Chapter 8: Lucy again.

.....Jerrid got up to get another round.

Chris looked around the room, taking in everyone in the bar. He was able to recognize some of the people already from the cafe and could tell who the people coming back from Colorado were: They were the ones being passed around and hugged while being examined for the change from three years ago. Chris’ gaze fell on a table filled with four girls, one of them Mary-Anne Dawes and one was Lucy from Doctor Stevensen’s office. She was wearing the same outfit without the sweater covering her shoulders and she had on more make-up, making her look older and sexually enticing. She saw Chris looking at her, she mouthed ‘hi’ and waved. All the girls except Mary-Anne turned to look as Chris waved back.

Katrina watched to see who Chris was waving at. When she saw it was Lucy they exchanged waves, but the other girls rolled their eyes and turned back into their seats. The girl sitting next to Lucy said something that made the rest of the girls laugh. Lucy shrugged. Katrina knew it was something about her but she didn’t care; she wasn’t popular in school and if these girls didn’t like her, then she did want to be their friend anyways.

Gregory and Jerrid were pre-occupied with a couple of women dancing next to the bar, obviously trying to get the attention of the men: rubbing each other’s bodies and pressing their hips into one another rhythmically swaying with the beat of the music.

The haggard waitress plopped her butt down in Jerrid’s lap and asked if they wanted to do any more shots. Jerrid said they did and she stood up as quickly as she had sat down.

Chris glanced over at the girls’ table to see if Mary-Anne was bothered by this interaction. Lucy smiled at him again while Mary-Anne shot daggers at the waitress. Lucy stood up to walk over to Chris’ table, keeping her eyes on him the entire time. Katrina realized her intentions and got up to go to the lady’s room. She felt uncomfortable knowing Lucy was interested in Chris and needed to avoid that interaction.

Jerrid smiled and nodded at her, which she returned with a polite smile and nod.

“Hi Chris. I was hoping you’d come tonight,” She giggled awkwardly. Jerrid and Gregory looked at Chris with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

There’s a lot of hoping to see people tonight Chris thought. “Oh, yeah, well Katrina and I thought it would be a good idea to come and meet some more people-- to interview.”

“Doctor Stevensen thinks that you have very good potential to get the story out.” She twirled a lock of blonde hair around her finger.

“He said that?”

“Uh huh.”

Chris got a little red in the face and looked over at the giggling table of girls from which Lucy just came. He looked back at her and she was caressing her bottom lip with her teeth. “Oh, well that’s nice.” He was cursing his inability to entertain females.

Lucy gave him a confused look and ended the conversation. “Okay, um, well I’m just over there if you want to chat later. It was good seeing you.” She turned to walk away.

“You too.” He dropped his head in shame.

Jerrid and Gregory had turned their back to the conversation in the beginning but had obviously been listening because they both spun around in their chairs, laughing and shaking their heads. Katrina walked up at that moment and asked what happened--even though she already had a pretty good idea from the lack of high fiving.

“Well, your boy Chris here wouldn’t know how to pick up a chick if she were attached to his finger.” Jerrid said

Katrina was relieved nothing romantic was exchanged between the two and she regretted the feeling that came with it; it meant she was starting to have feelings for Chris. She recognized it and pushed it to the back of her mind

Chris didn’t say anything but shook his head. He was confident his face was at least three shades pinker. He couldn’t look over at the table of girls again. But Katrina could and they were all laughing while Lucy sat there with a wondering look on her face. Katrina felt a pang of happiness and contentment.

They spent the majority of their time at the bar drinking and taking more shots. Gregory and Katrina got caught up on the past three years while Jerrid and Chris played more pool. During one of their games, a man, who seemed intoxicated burst through the front door and frantically searched the room with his eyes. Jerrid noticed and recognized the guy. He put his pool cue down, excused himself from the game and calmly sprinted towards him. Chris couldn’t hear the exchange between the two men, but judging by Jerrid’s animated hands, it wasn’t a pleasant situation.

Chris walked up to Katrina and Gregory. “Who’s that guy Jerrid’s talking to?”

They both looked over towards the door. Katrina stood up and rushed over as quickly as Jerrid had.

“That’s Clint—Katrina’s uncle,” Gregory answered. He wasn’t as concerned as the other two, and he didn’t get off his chair.

Chris mentally reprimanded himself for not remembering Clint from the photo albums. His dark hair was just as thick, but streaked with gray; his face was worn like old leather but his strong jaw was still very prominent. He was wearing a jacket thicker than what Chris thought he would need for this weather.

Chris sat down and watched the interaction with Gregory. Katrina was distraught; she pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead. Jerrid threw his hands up in the air again and Katrina was trying to diffuse the situation; pushing her hands towards the floor in a ‘calm down’ motion, followed by touching her hand to Clint’s arm. When she patted him on the shoulder he seemed to calm and nodded in some kind of agreement before he walked out the door.

Katrina said something to Jerrid, which only received a nod in return and they started back towards the table. No one in the bar was bothered by the situation—they didn’t even notice.

Chapter 8: Jerrid's story

...Jerrid thrust a shot in front of each of them. “Drink.”

“Oh, Jerrid. I really don’t want—“

Jerrid downed his shot in one gulp, “You heard me.”

The rest of them took their shots and left the glasses on the table. Chris could feel his stomach bile and Whiskey re-creating the civil war in his belly.

“So,” said Jerrid looking over at the pool table. “I guess you won. Too bad I didn’t see it, so it doesn’t count.”

Chris felt annoyed. “You were too busy crying like a baby behind Katrina. But I’ll happily kick your ass again if you want.” Chris was smiling until Jerrid stepped up to him, their chests almost touching. “--At pool I meant.”

“I thought so.” Jerrid smiled and backed down. “No, it’s not worth my time.”

“So we have a deal then?”

“We’ll see.” Jerrid walked over to grab his drink from beside Gregory.

The haggard waitress that Jerrid called ‘Darlin’’ came over and grabbed her empty drink tray, giving Jerrid a dirty look. “You said you’d bring this right back.”

“Sorry, guess I lied. I wanted to make you come get it.” He winked at her and she smiled back at him and walked away. They all moved to a table in the middle of the room.

“So kid,” Gregory turned to Chris. The bar was almost full now and the music was a lot louder. “Why you writin’ an article about the infection? What kinda things you wanna know?”

“Everything: how it started and what it was like; how people dealt with it; what the town was like living in while it was happening. Just everything.”

“Well, let me tell you: nothing you write will portray what it was like living during that time. It was like living in Hell. Family members were killed, or transformed. You don’t know what it’s like to see a family member chase after you wanting to eat you, or seeing babies and toddlers with blood dripping from their lips after they’ve just fed on their household pet. Could you imagine having to kill your own child, or someone else’s?”

“No, I couldn’t. But neither can the rest of America, and they don’t even know it can happen. That’s why I want to write this article.”

“And how do you think that you can get this article out when the rest of the people that have tried couldn’t?”

“I don’t know that it won’t get killed like the rest, but once I tell my boss about this, he has to publish it. He just has to,” Chris said reassuring himself more than Gregory.

Jerrid turned his chair towards the bar and rested his ankle on his knee while he lit a cigarette. “I don’t think you know what you’ve gotten yourself into kid.”

“You make it sound like there’s still infected people running around out there.”

“There is,” Gregory said.

“What?”

Gregory shook his head as if to erase what he just said, “I mean they’re not all gone yet. Every once and awhile we’ll come across a decomposing body with the eyes sucked out, or a limb that’s been torn off and the flesh chewed all around it. That means there’s still some out there.“

“We got a live one the other week; not from around here—-as far as I could tell--and we thought that he was our last problem. But another body turned up after him. Look, don’t tell anyone. We have it under control and we’re pretty sure there’s only one running around. We’ll get him.” Jerrid inhaled and winked at a different waitress.

Chris’ heart rate rose and Gregory could see it on his face. “Don’t worry kid. No one’s going to get you.”

Katrina leaned over the table, “So, the blood on your shirt today Jerrid, that was—“

“A bird. I told you that.”

“Just checking.” Katrina lit her cigarette.

“So Gregory, how do you guys work your watches? Or how did you? You couldn’t both have stayed up all night and all day.”

“No, we had a lot more watchmen during the peak of the infection; we had recruiting sessions like an army and even practice during the day. But, too many of the watchmen were being killed or getting infected, so we decided that we would take care of the whole thing alone, that way we wouldn’t have any more unnecessary blood on our hands. I would do nights and Jerrid would do days and we’d trade sometimes. Whenever we needed a break, Clint-- Katrina’s uncle—would come help sometimes too.”

“So what made you guys so immortal?”

“Nothing, we’re just that good.” Jerrid said. Everyone laughed.

“Jerrid, can I ask what happened to your neck? Where you got that scar?”

Jerrid tamped out his cigarette and took a long sip of his drink. He didn’t acknowledge the question and Chris didn’t want to ask again. He looked at Katrina for an answer. “He doesn’t tell everyone that story.” Katrina comforted him.

“It’s Okay kid,” Jerrid started, “I was about fourteen and went camping up in Northwest US with my parents and brother. We had been there about three days and there were bear warnings all over. My family had always been avid campers; we knew what kind of precautions we had to take. Plus, we had been in bear country many times. After the third day, we had all gone to bed, my brother woke-up and had to go to the bathroom. My dad got up to take him. Jeff insisted on going deeper into the woods so my dad couldn’t see him. Seconds later he started screaming. It was a scream I had never heard before—and never want to again.
“My mother and I heard it from the tent. She grabbed the shotgun my dad left and we went running towards them. My dad was running towards us with Jeff in his arms. Jeff’s leg had a massive chunk taken out of his thigh. My mother dropped the gun and ran over to him. She was screaming, ‘what happened? What happened?’ My dad had trouble answering. He would repeat himself, ‘A bear. I think it was a bear.’
“Jeff had passed out by then and they laid him on the ground, trying to figure out what to do. My dad yelled at me to get the car. I ran. The truck was parked out on the main road--over a hundred yards away. My dad always left the keys in the ignition, but since this was a new spot, he hid them under the steering wheel; it took me awhile to find them. I drove as close as I could get and when the lights shone on the campground, I could only see blood and flesh strewn around the place. I couldn’t hear my mom or see my brother. When I looked closer, the flashlight was on the ground pointed at my dad who was lying on his back and had his arm stretched out reaching for the shotgun about four feet away. I wondered why he didn’t get up to grab it, but when I got closer I saw my dad’s right leg had been ripped—or chewed--off above the knee. He was obviously in some kind of shock or something. I grabbed the flashlight and that’s when I saw my mother’s body underneath the bear. She was already dead.” Jerrid stopped a moment and took a mouthful of rum and Coke.

“The weird thing was, the bear’s fur was brown but it was patchy; pieces of it missing and the skin showing through was all infected, like mange on a dog--but worse—not as scabbed, more raw. I ran over to grab the gun, as I got closer to my dad, the bear was distracted by the light from my flashlight. My dad screamed at it to leave me alone, it jumped at me anyways. I got the gun cocked and shot him, but on his way down, one of his nails—which was broken and infected—caught my neck.”

“How did you survive when you were so far out in the woods?” Chris asked.

“I got to the truck where he had a VHF and called for help. My dad died in my arms before help got there. I woke-up in a hospital with news reporters and people trying to put me into foster parent programs. They tested the bear for its infections. All tests came back negative for anything and only my neck had a severe infection. I was in the hospital for over a month."

“Did you go to a foster home?”

“A couple, until I was about eighteen, then I ran away and came back here to work for Katrina’s dad.”

Chris nodded. He didn’t know what else to say. Jerrid didn’t seem to care. He turned around in his seat.

“I lost my brother too,” Chris blurted out. Jerrid looked back at him. “He was young. He got hit by a car.”

“Sorry,” Jerrid replied. He lifted his glass to cheers Chris and the others. “To good friends being the best family one can have.” They all clinked their glasses together and gulped down the last drops. Jerrid got up to get another round.

Chapter 8: At Stumps

........“She doesn’t look like she was hoping to see anyone tonight” Chris whispered to Katrina. She just about spit the drink out through her nose. The waitress glared at her While she pressed her breast against Jerrid’s arm. He pretended not to notice.

“Hey Darlin’, How ‘bout you get us a round of shots—-whiskey—and I’ll have a rum and coke. Greg?”

“Uh, yeah I’ll have the same—-minus the round of shots.”

The waitress didn’t acknowledge Gregory’s presence. “Okay, so a round of whiskey and a rum and coke, what about y’all?” She looked between Chris and Katrina, snapping her gum between her teeth.

“Just another beer and…”

“…Gin and seven.” Katrina finished.

The girl turned on her heels, winking at Jerrid as she walked passed. He smacked her on the butt, giving her a jolt like a cattle prod.

Chris was finding it hard to believe that Jerrid was once a dedicated husband and father.

“I don’t think she likes you after last weekend Greg, you’re better off gettin’ your own drink from the bar.”

Gregory didn’t say anything and walked over to the bartender.

“So, kid, how ‘bout we play a game? I’ll rack ‘em, you break ‘em.”

“Okay.”

“You wanna put some money on it?”

“How about something better?” Jerrid and Katrina gave each other a surprised glance. “If I win, you have to stop bothering me and let me talk to you about the infection; If you win, you don’t have to tell me anything and you can continue hating me,” Jerrid laughed and slapped his knee. “Either way, I wont ask about your wife.” Jerrid stopped laughing and both him and Katrina kept their eyes on Chris. Chris knew he probably stepped over the line, but it was effective.

Jerrid put out his cigarette, grabbed the billiard triangle and walked over to the table. Chris took that as a yes.

Gregory came back with his drink, followed shortly by the waitress with their shots and drinks.

The bar was starting to get busy and the music was slowly getting louder.

They each took a shot and slammed it back. Chris and Katrina both made a funny face that Gregory and Jerrid laughed at.

“Okay then, lets get this bet started.” Chris walked over to the table.

“What bet?” Gregory asked Katrina. She explained making his massive frame shake with laughter.

Chris sunk a low-ball on the break. He shot again sinking another and another until he missed on the third shot. Jerrid caught up, tying the game. Chris sunk one of his balls by an accidental trick-shot, which passed the turn to Jerrid. Chris got to the eight ball, leaving Jerrid with only one of his balls, which he missed again.

Jerrid walked up to the table to take a sip of his drink. Chris went to take his shot and heard some murmuring wave through the bar followed by an “oh no. Don’t let her see me,” Chris quickly looked up to see Jerrid hiding his face behind his rum glass and his body behind Katrina.

That is about as efficient as a black bear hiding behind a fire hydrant in the middle of winter Chris thought. Chris called ‘corner pocket’ and took his shot, sinking the eight ball, winning the game. He turned around to see what Jerrid was hiding from.

The blonde girl from the plane had just walked in. She was stood in the doorway, her eyes locked on Jerrid. She smiled and walked towards them trying to look around Katrina at Jerrid.

“Oh No, no, no. Make her go away.” Jerrid pleaded with Katrina. Gregory just stood there and Katrina didn’t know what to do. Chris enjoyed watching such an intimidating man quivering behind a girl less than half his size.

“Hi Katrina.” Mary-Anne gave Katrina a calculated hug and smile intended to get past her to Jerrid. “I thought I would have gotten a bit of a warmer welcome than that Jerrid.” She attempted to give him a hug but he planted his pool cue firmly in front of him. “How come you haven’t called me yet?”

“Uh, I’ve been busy and I heard a rumor you weren’t coming back to Forest Hills.”

Mary-Anne waved her hand like she was shooing a fly, “Ha, who would start such a rumor.” She took a step closer to Jerrid and lowered her voice to a seductive tone “You know as well as I do that everything I have is here in this little town.” She stepped back laughing as if she just said something funny. Jerrid nodded and leaned towards Gregory.

“I think I need another shot.” He said, loud enough for everyone to hear. They both walked to the bar leaving Mary-Anne watching them, bewildered.

Katrina felt the urge to break the tension. “Mary-Anne, this is Chris; Chris, this is Mary-Anne. Her parents bought my family’s company and you’ve met her aunt Mary-Jo-- who owns the café.”

“Oh yes, good coffee. It’s nice to meet you,” Chris politely extended his hand.

“Likewise. You were on the plane sat beside Katrina weren’t you?” Chris nodded, “What brings you to Forest Hills?”

“An article. About the infection.”

“How interesting. I hope it works out for you. It was nice seeing you.” At that she turned and walked across the room.

Chris and Katrina both gave a sigh of relief. “She makes me feel un-easy and I don’t even know her. Why?”

“Because, that’s Mary-Anne. She’s a little loopy and you can feel it. Mama can’t even stand to be around her with the energy she picks up.”

“What’s the deal with her and Jerrid. Why’s he so afraid of her?”

“I don’t know for sure, but you know how she bit her sister who then infected others and it continued from there?”

“Yeah.”

“He thinks she started the whole infection.”

“But how’d she get it then?”

Katrina cleared her throat when Gregory and Jerrid walked up. Jerrid thrust a shot in front of each of them. “Drink.”

Chapter 8: Going to Stumps

8.

Dusk was starting to press on forest hills; the setting sun was playing off the buildings and trees, creating supernatural shadows. Chris commented on the eerie feeling that the pursuing darkness was giving him and Katrina laughed.

They reached Stumps in less than five minutes and were greeted at the door by a heavyset man testing the strength of a stool he was perched on. He opened the door when he saw Katrina approaching. She smiled and nodded in thanks before she walked through. Chris continued behind her but felt a hand press against his chest before he made it over the threshold.

“Identification.” The man said without looking at him, or removing his hand.

“Oh, yeah sure,” Chris pulled out his wallet and obliged the man.

“I knew you weren’t from around here,” He said, handing the card back to Chris. He waved Chris in. Chris realized the bouncer was profiling him instead of checking the legality of his attendance at the bar.

Once inside, Chris could see that the bar was named appropriately; to the left of the entrance--past the restroom--was a long burl-wood bar extending the entirety of the room. The bar stools were made out of tree stumps, this was the same for the tables, however, they were at least three feet in diameter. The inside of the building was made to look like a log cabin complete with heads of various animals and an old stove converted into a freezer for ice. On the far wall there was a hundred inch TV projecting the scene of a lake out a cabin window with jet skiers and boats passing through.

There were hardly any patrons in the bar, and the only two servers were chatting outside the kitchen; neither of them paying attention to the newcomers. Katrina didn’t know anyone in there so she lead the way over to the pool tables. After she put her purse down on top of a tall table in the corner--also carved out of a tall, skinny tree stump—she asked Chris: “You play?” Nodding towards the table.

“Uh, yeah I guess I can give a good rally.”

“Good. Will you rack ‘em?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“What do you want from the bar?”

“Just a beer, whatever’s on tap,” Chris grabbed some quarters out of his pocket to insert into the table and was happy to see the tables didn’t cost anything; they were real billiard tables.

Katrina came back and set their drinks next to her purse.

“Thanks,” Chris sipped enough beer out of the glass to keep it from spilling. “You wanna break?”

“No, you go ahead.” She unwrapped a new pack of cigarettes and lit one.

Chris sunk two solids and moved onto his next shot. He lined up the shot with his cue before he bent over to take it.

Katrina took notice to his broad shoulders and lean back muscles. She was thinking of how long it had been since she had any mutual contact with a man. She shook the thought out of her head, taking a drag on her cigarette and closing her eyes. She heard the crack of the balls hitting, followed by the sound of a ball being pocketed. She exhaled, feeling the roughness of the smoke leaving her chest and throat. She opened her eyes.

“I sunk a high ball, it’s your go.” Chris smiled and passed the pool cue to her. She assessed her best shot and continued with the cigarette still hanging out of her mouth; the smoke making her squint.

Chris took notice and asked: “Why do you smoke anyways?”

She missed and passed the cue back to Chris. “It keeps me relaxed. Despite what you may think, I actually hate it but I get nervous and jittery sometimes for no reason. This keeps me calm and relaxed when that happens.”

“Do I make you jittery and nervous?” Chris asked coyly.

Katrina rolled her eyes.

As Chris was about to shoot the eight ball for the win, he saw Jerrid and Gregory walk through the bar door. Jerrid was showered and clean, but still looked un-done and tired. He glanced around scoping out the scene when his eyes rested on Chris and Katrina. He smirked at Chris and said something to Gregory that made them both laugh. They started to walk over and Chris missed his shot, sinking the white ball and losing by default.

The two men walked over to stand beside Katrina. “Aw, kid did we make you nervous?” Gregory laughed and Katrina hit them both on the chest. They seemed about as bothered as if a housefly bumped into them.

Gregory was just as big as Jerrid, but his build was more muscular. They both could have been brothers by the way they looked the same. Gregory had darker hair and lighter eyes and let his beard grow long on purpose, where Jerrid’s was just days of overgrowth.

“No way. I just miss-judged my shot.”

“Uh-Huh.”

“He’s actually quite good, he kicked my ass there for awhile.” Katrina vouched for him.

“Well, that’s not hard to do.” Gregory nudged her.

Jerrid cleared his throat, “Anyways, Greg this is that kid I told you about that you almost shot in the forest.”

“Oh, yeah. You were right: he does look like he could be infected; the frightened little look he has on his face.” Jerrid laughed, the cigarette smoke coming out his nose.

“Ok, you guys stop it. Why can’t you just play nice? He’s with me, he’s staying with Mama and I and we like him. Get over it.” Katrina took a step towards Chris and put her arm around his waist to show she was on his side. Chris was pleasantly surprised and wrapped his arm around her small shoulders.

A waitress in a green flannel-printed T-shirt and small brown shorts walked over to them. Her brown hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head and her make-up looked like it was put on last night before she went to bed. Chris imagined she was in her thirties, but looked about forty-five. He assumed it was from the habits one could obtain living in a small town and working in a bar.

“Hey Jerrid, I was hoping you’d come in tonight.”

“She doesn’t look like she was hoping to see anyone tonight,” Chris whispered to Katrina. She almost spit the drink out through her nose making the waitress glare at her. ...