“Alright this is all very entertaining, but our day has also been less than stellar,” I said.
Brian was about to unleash some new verbal assault on Deneaux, but stopped when he looked around at the four of us and our hangdog expressions.
“Sorry,” he said to us, careful to make sure that Deneaux did not believe she was included in that apology.
“Any luck before they came?” I asked.
His bowed head answered before he spoke. “We’ve been stuck in that shed almost since you left.”
“Alright, let’s just find someplace relatively safe to hunker down for the night. I think we could all use a break from today’s festivities.” Nobody argued, at least that was a step in the right direction.
“Got any good ideas about that?” BT asked, “Because I’m a little hesitant about going into other people’s homes right now.”
“Oh come on, Mike,” Gary said as he saw me looking back at the storage space Brian and Mrs. Deneaux had just been liberated from.
“We’ll chain up the front gate and we’ll post a guard,” I said.
“Hopefully, one that doesn’t fall asleep while they say they’re watching your back,” Brian said for good measure, looking across BT at Mrs. Deneaux.
I smiled inwardly as the old crow stuck her tongue out at him.
“Come on. I’m sure there’s plenty of blankets,” I said.
“Tons of sleeping bags too,” Brian added. “I’ve found all sorts of camping gear.”
“I wish we had some S’mores,” Paul said. “Oh that’s right, you don’t like them, do you, Mike?”
“Isn’t that un-American? Not liking S’mores?” BT asked.
“They make his hands sticky,” Gary said, adding his two cents.
“Think of how many more germs you can pick up with sticky fingers!” I said, trying to defend my position. If making my opponents laugh was victory, then I had defeated them all.
“Didn’t you ever think to lick your fingers off?” Mrs. Deneaux asked.
I shuddered at the thought.
“Wash them off in a stream maybe?” Brian asked, trying to be helpful.
“Ever hear of giardia?” I answered.
“Come on, as a kid you were thinking about a parasite in water that came from the refuse of wildlife?” BT asked.
I nodded. “I read a lot as a kid.”
“Poor bastard,” he said, smiling. “I’ll take first watch. Won’t get much sleep thinking about your S’mores issue anyway.”
I didn’t tell him that since Tomas’ bite, I didn’t feel like I’d ever need to sleep again and could pretty much take every one’s shift without an issue. I decided I’d take the other watches after his. That’s what he gets for making fun of me.
Chapter Six – Mike Journal Entry 5
BT finished up his watch. The sun had long since departed. We had a small flashlight going in the corner of the ten by thirty foot-shed, but it did little to shield us from the darkness within. Every time I even contemplated shutting my eyes, images of the infant from earlier today crept in. I should have just let sleeping zombies lie, so to speak. BT raised the door as quietly as he could, which was still as loud as you would expect a metal rolling door would be. Paul and Brian immediately awoke, Deneaux slept on, snoring like a sailor, (which I guess is an unfair comparison to sailors everywhere because I don’t really know what they sound like when they’re asleep.)
Paul started to get up. “I’ve got it, bud,” I told him.
“You sure, man?” he asked even as his head was traveling back down to its resting spot.
“Can’t sleep anyway. No sense in both of us being up,” I said. He grunted something about thanks, in return, or he belched, sounding just about the same.
“Anything?” I asked BT, who was eyeing my bed longingly.
“I think I heard a couple of cars off in the distance and maybe some gunfire, but it was so far away, I can’t be sure.”
“Thanks, man,” I told him. “Enjoy your beauty rest.”
“You have any phobias about other men sharing your bed?” he asked.
I didn’t answer, I wanted to hold onto some secrets.
“Okay, so I know it’s not because I’m black. Is it because I’m a man?” he asked solemnly.
“BT, I don’t like my kids in my bed,” I told him truthfully.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“Why would I? Like you need some new and improved reason to think I’m nuts?”