Doc hesitated then slowly asked, "How was the wind that day? Was it at your back?"
Joe straightened and spoke softly. "It was windy. The direction kept changing and we had to move a couple times because the wood smoke was dense and burned our eyes. We finally left and went back later after the fire died down. The bodies were incinerated, nothing was left of them." He looked to Doc pleadingly. "You really believe we're infected, don't you?"
A tear rolled down Doc's cheek. He couldn't speak, so he nodded slightly. He coughed, removed his glasses, and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. The room was silent as we waited. "I don't know for certain, but I strongly suspect you breathed the ash of the zombie's bodies as they burned and were contaminated that way. But there's no way I can pinpoint that as the cause. It's possible, and I believe it's the most probable cause of your infection. I'm sorry I can't tell you more, but I just don't know."
Georgia was devastated and slumped in her chair crying. Tim didn't speak but stared harshly at the committee members as he engaged us one by one.
Shane stood. "Joe and Ronnie, go spend the rest of the evening with your family and friends. I'll meet you at the holding cells at midnight." It was clear he supported the decision, but his sympathetic tone of voice indicated he didn't look forward to implementing it.
The hostile meeting ended, and I went to my quarters to be with Kira and the kids. At quarter of midnight, I met Shane at the cell area. Joe and Ronnie approached sullenly at ten minutes past midnight. They were accompanied by Tim, Georgia, and Nate Robard.
Nate started bellowing from twenty feet away. "What the hell’s wrong with you, Jacobs? There's nothing wrong with these boys that God can't cure. They're not going into those lock-ups. I'll keep them in my custody and take full responsibility for them."
Shane stepped over to the first cell door and swung it open on squeaky hinges. I opened the second door and nodded to Joe. He looked to Tim and Nate pleadingly before he shuffled over and stepped inside. Nate interfered loudly. I closed and locked the door behind Joe. Ronnie walked toward Shane after I silently motioned to that side with my head.
Nate continued to protest. "This isn't right. You have no valid reason to lock those men up and threaten to murder them on the word of an old quack." He punched my chest with his right index finger. Nate gasped and sank to his knees after I gripped the offending digit and bent it backward until he cried out in pain.
"Nate, neither of these men will be harmed unless it is obvious they have fully transitioned into the undead. Doc's observations are valid; he doesn't have an axe to grind with either of them. But they will not be allowed to roam at will and place all of us in danger. You will stay out of this and not get in my face again, or you'll be locked up for your own safety." I released the offending finger and let Nate stand. He rubbed and flexed the finger and stared wide-eyed. Tim had advanced and stood two feet off from me with his fist clenched menacingly. I read in his eyes that he wanted to lash out but knew he had hesitated too long.
I put the keys to the cell locks back in the lockbox and locked it. "Go to bed folks, Ronnie and Joe will be monitored and well cared for. Good night."
I winked at Shane, and we headed for our rooms. When we were out of hearing distance, Shane grinned as he commented, "For a few seconds I thought Tim would attack you. I guess he's smarter than I gave him credit for."
Three days later I was accompanied by Kira, Shane, Ed, John, and Doc. Two large dogs lay in the back of the SUV, drowning in boredom. We were in the Mark Twain Forest in South Central Missouri. The weather was hot, near ninety in the early afternoon. Rain had fallen recently because the ground was moist; it wasn't wet, but under the leaf cover the ground was damp. We covered a lot of miles in the Expedition and inspected many sites. So far we'd come up empty handed. There was something lacking at every possible location: too far from water, no tillable land close by, or small cabins were spread out over too large an area. We wanted all members to be in close proximity for safety and to instill a sense of unity. The one thing we observed at all the locations was wild game. Deer, wild pigs, turkeys and squirrels were abundant. That also indicated a lack of zombies in the area. That alone made us like the area more and more.
Finally, on the third afternoon, we found a site that was suitable to all the members of our exploratory party. A large, abandoned, resort sat atop a wide rock outcropping twenty feet above a fast, meandering river. Scattered around the large main building were twenty cabins of various sizes. The property dropped in elevation until the outlying cabins on each end were near the river level. Some were single buildings, others were duplexes. After cursory inspections, all were found to be in relatively good condition. Rodents had burrowed through walls at several buildings and would need to be forcibly evicted. The roof shingles of about half the structures had deteriorated and needed to be replaced.
Across the potholed oil and chip main road was a twenty acre tract that had been used for overflow auto, camper, and motor home parking during special staged events. The faded paint on
