“I’ve got a little surprise of my own set up. We should have plenty of guns for what I want to do.
“What about the zombie?”
“He’s dead now,” I said, walking back towards the shed. I could not see anything more in the dark.
Paul met me about halfway back. “Hey, buddy, do you need any help?” he asked still fumbling with his pants.
“It looks like you’re the one that needs a hand. Now, I’m not offering, I’m just saying.”
“Go figure, I find a camp potty, toilet paper, a small flashlight and some damn comic books. The night couldn’t be any quieter and I find the perfect spot to take care of some personal business.”
“Sorry, man, but you should know better by now,” I said. I felt for Paul I truly did. Women don’t really get it, but a man’s time on the throne is one of relaxation, a time when he can let go, both literally and figuratively. Not bathroom humor, just fact.
“I’m going to see if the office is open. Maybe there’s actually a door to the bathroom there.”
“Be careful, my friend.”
He waved a hand at me, I hoped it wasn’t the one he had been using for other needs earlier.
Mrs. Deneaux was sitting outside in a plastic lawn chair, smoking a cigarette, I couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not. The fluid motions she made when extracting the smoke from her lips and flicking the ash was a much-practiced maneuver. It was her own small dance of death.
Mrs. Deneaux magically produced a half-empty pack and one cigarette leapt out at me. I took it much like a drowning man would take a glass of water, or an apple from a serpent. You decide.
Gary had grabbed my shoulder and gave me a brotherly squeeze as he went back into the storage unit. Brian walked by, stopping only long enough to tell me he would take over the patrol. I thanked him as Deneaux lit my smoke.
“BT doesn’t trust you,” she said after a few peaceful moments. She wasn’t looking at me, but rather up at the sky and the blazing stars.
“And you?” I asked, taking a heavy intake of smoke, also marveling at the sight above us.
“All I know is that if you turn me into a vampire and I’m stuck in this old wrinkled body forever, I will make sure to never leave your side. I’m no longer a Miss Stewart.”
I started laughing. “I’ll keep that in mind; and who is Miss Stewart?”
“It’s of no concern now. So how are things, Michael?” she said. At some point, she had stopped looking at the stars and her eyes sparked brightly as they focused intently on me.
“That’s quite a gaze you’ve got going on there,” I said, trying to deflect some of that attention.
“It is not every day that someone has their soul stripped from their body. I have also given mine up, but I fear I will have to atone for it a lot sooner than you, I expect.”
My mouth opened to ask her what she had done, but she cut me off at the pass.
“It is not something I wish to discuss. Perhaps I will write it down in a journal. I see you scribbling in that thing all the time. I would love to know what you think of me.”
“No you wouldn’t,” I said.
Now it was her turn to laugh. “No, perhaps I wouldn’t. Do you lead us to salvation, Michael?” she asked in all seriousness. “Is that even possible?”
“To be honest, Mrs. Deneaux…”
“Vivian.”
“Vivian,” I said. Her name felt like I was swirling broken glass around in my mouth as I tried to say it. “I’m just trying to make it through tomorrow.”
Her gaze shifted back to the heavens. We actually enjoyed an easy silence for a few moments before she stood up. “I’m going to get a few more hours of sleep. I believe that we will make it through tomorrow,” she said, heading back into the shed.
And then what? I wanted to say, but I wished her a good night and I meant it. I stayed there, looking at the stars swirling overhead until the morning sun began to bathe my face in its presence.
“You out here all night?” BT asked, stretching his arms wide.
“I guess so. I think I might have discovered a new planet.”
“Okay, so it’s early and now I’m not truly sure if this is sarcasm or are you telling the truth?”
“He’s full of shit,” Gary said coming up from behind. “So what’s on the agenda today?”
“Is Brian back?” I asked, I hadn’t seen him since he had taken over patrol duty and how long ago was that? Four or five hours at least.
“He’s not in there. Probably couldn’t handle Mrs. Deneaux’s snoring,” Paul said.
“Vivian,” I corrected.
“Who the hell is Vivian?” Paul asked.
“That’s Deneaux.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.
“Mrs. Deneaux’s first name is Vivian,” I clarified.