“Ain’t nobody else in there,” he told Melvin and turned his attention to the small man. “He sure is a sorry looking sight. What’s your name, boy?”
The man visibly gulped and stared at True in a mixture of fear and wide-eyed astonishment. True noticed.
“He’s acting like he ain’t never seen a black man before.”
“Maybe he hasn’t,” Melvin said. He snapped his fingers to get the man’s attention.
“Do you speak English?”
“A little English,” the man answered.
“Good,” Melvin said and tapped his finger on his chest. “Melvin.”
The man nodded in understanding and tapped his chest. “Dong,” he said.
“Dong?”
“Dong,” he repeated.
Melvin suppressed a laugh. “Do you have a gun, Dong?
Dong looked confused. Melvin stepped toward him and patted the heavy jacket. Dong realized what Melvin was doing and held his hands up.
“No kill me,” he pleaded. “Pẻng you. Friend. Dong friend.”
“Uh huh,” Melvin said. “Hold your arms out.”
Melvin had to physically move Dong’s arms out and took a glove off so he could unbutton the little man’s jacket. As soon as he did so, his nostrils were assailed with body odor. Melvin reacted by wrinkling his nose and sneezing.
“This boy hasn’t had a bath in a while,” Melvin complained, which elicited a grunt from True.
The only weapon he found was a dagger type knife sheathed in Dong’s belt. When Melvin snatched it, Dong offered a sheepish grin.
“No kill me. Dong friend.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that,” Melvin muttered and held a hand up, palm facing Dong, indicating the man needed to be quiet. Dong nodded like he understood.
“What do you think?” he asked True.
“Same outfit,” True said. “I ain’t no Einstein, but I’d bet he’s one of them.”
“Yeah, I’d say you’re right,” Melvin agreed.
“The question is, what’s he doing out here all alone? Hey boy, are you a deserter?”
Dong frowned before answering. “Dong friend.”
Melvin grunted and tested the edge of the dagger. “It’s duller than Grandpa’s dick,” he said before putting his glove back on.
“Well, he don’t look infected,” True remarked. “I suppose we could take him back to Weather for a proper debriefing.”
Melvin considered it. “Yeah, we could. I don’t think anyone speaks Chinese, but Garret and Grace might have some kind of translation software on that big computer.” He took his glove off again to scratch his face and try to rub some of the smell out of his nose. “He stinks to high heaven, but if we put him in the back of the truck he’ll most likely freeze to death.”
“Yeah, and he’s as good as dead if we leave him,” True said. “If you’re asking, I think we should take him back. We can always kill him later.”
“Dong friend, no kill!” Dong shouted.
True grabbed him by the shoulder and shushed him. “Be quiet,” he ordered in a harsh whisper and then led him to the passenger side of the truck.
He put Dong in the front passenger seat and got in the back. Melvin took a moment to inspect the dead zeds. They had various personal items that were of no value. Melvin noted none of them had anything that would be considered identification. Satisfied, he got back in the truck.
“They didn’t look like fifteens,” he observed. “Mostly rotten skin and bones. None of them were Chinese soldiers, from what I could tell.”
“Do you want to radio this in?” True asked.
“Maybe later, at the moment I just want to get the tanker and put some distance between us and all those newly created zeds. We made more noise than I’m comfortable with.”
“Yeah,” True said in agreement. Both men knew from experience freshly turned zeds were faster, stronger, and much more aggressive than old ones.
“You know, if Zach were still living at Weather, I’d go ahead and call it in. He’d have everything prepped and ready for our new guest.” He then chuckled. “And, he’d probably have a list of questions already written up.”
“Yeah, but how many? Five hundred?” True asked.
“Probably more like five thousand,” Melvin said.
True smiled, which elicited a laugh from Melvin. Dong wasn’t exactly sure what was being discussed but laughed along with them anyway.
“Yo, Dong, why did you leave your friends?” Melvin asked.
Dong seemed to understand. “Bad. All bad. No food. Hungry always.”
Melvin glanced back at True.
“Yeah, he looks like he’s starving,” True concluded and reached into his knapsack. He then stuck his hand out and nudged Dong, who jerked and stared back at True in fright.
“Here,” True ordered. “It’s food. Food.”
It was a homemade Mount Weather granola bar. True was skeptical the first time he was served one at lunch, but he found them to be rather tasty. He and Melvin had stocked up on several before leaving on their mission.
Dong tentatively reached out with his cuffed hands and took it. He tried a small bite and True could have sworn Dong’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy. He then devoured the small bar in two bites and bobbed his head at True in thanks. True must have been in a good mood, he gave Dong another granola bar and a canteen of water.
Melvin chuckled. “You’re such a softy.”
Melvin located the trailer five minutes later. He backed up to it and hooked it up while True made Dong stand beside him while he stood guard. Finishing, Melvin motioned for them to get back in the truck.
“Alright, we’re all good. Let’s go home,” he said.
“Amen to that,” True said.
“By the way, there was about a half-gallon of diesel spilled on the ground. Someone either opened the valve to see what was in it, or they helped themselves to
