Capítulo 311: Can't Have Shit in Kentucky (Project Zomboid) by Pastah-Farian
Saving humanity as a whole is impossible the virus is already airborne.... but maybe maybe something can be salvaged...
Words: 20k+
Links: https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/25128
https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/cant-have-shit-in-kentucky-project-zomboid.1134454/
Note: While it's posted in space battles too the thing is fic is kuch further along in qq so reading from there until space battles version updates on to date is a better idea
Chapter 1
Jackie took in a breath. Then, she regretted it.
Riverside was the very opposite of a industrial town. Hell, in the ass end of Knox County, Kentucky, it was a sleepy resort-town that was famous for backwoods activities, fishing, and their singular hotel that was the town's only place for tourists. Twas a simple and generally calm pace that ran their town unlike the hustle and bustle of Muldraugh or better yet, the chaos of Louisville. Yet, the air had recently been stinking like high heaven and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
She rubbed the bridge of her nose. The damned smell had come a day ago and it made doing anything hassle. The patrons of her little diner complained incessantly about it and management had done their best by purchasing loads of air fresheners but no amount of peach spray could cover the foul air. Well, it was bound to be a little problem for Jackie. One week more of putting up with hicks and old people and she'd be heading out into California with her bags full of cash and a head full of dreams.
Just one more week then, she'd be out of Kentucky.
The door to the diner opened and Jackie stood at attentie, ready to deal with whatever customer would come through. To her pleasant surprise, a man with a blue cowboy hat and equally blue jacket entered. "Good Mornin' Deputy Clarence," Jackie greeted him, her accent unfortunately thick with the signature Southern drawl. "How's the weather lookin out?"
Howard Clarance was a tall fella, dark-skinned and sporting mutton chops for days. He took off his aviators, revealing friendly brown eyes that would send someone at ease. He walked up to the counter, his gait strong despite his middle-age. "Weather's still stormy, Jackie," replied the Deputy, his voice a rich basso. "Pity that storm ain't wiping that damn smell off the air. Coffee please, dark." he then requested, leaning against the counter.
"Pure black coffee, coming right up," Jackie nodded, reaching below the cupboards and pulling out a mug. As she went into the motions, she couldn't help but think about what the Deputy said. "We still don't know where that stink comin from? It's making them tourists at the hotel cagey. Why yesterday, some old fella couldn't stop complaining that it was making his vacation worthless."
"Ah well, they can go complain about it. All of Knox is getting the smell," Deputy Clarence replied with a roll of his eyes. Jackie was in the midst of brewing coffee when she heard that. All of Knox?
"Waddya mean, all of Knox?" Jackie asked, pausing the brewing.
"Yup. Riverside, Muldraugh, West Point, all the other towns are experiencing the same thing as us. It's far worse for them folks at Rosewood. A friend of mine there told me that people are putting on masks," revealed Clarence, chuckling. "I say we here at Riverside are luckier."
"I wouldn't call constantly smelling shit lucky," Jackie said dryly. She finished the motions of her brewing and slid the mug towards the Deputy. "Enjoy your coffee, Deputy. That'll be five dollars by the way."
"I remember a time when a mug cost me three," the Deputy muttered as he shook his head.
Jackie leaned in, snorting. "Inflation is a bitch, ain't it?"
"You can say that again," Deputy Clarence nodded in agreement, strong hands wrapping around the mug. He took a sip, looking much more happier. Jackie had no idea how the Deputy could handle drinking coffee black. There was no other flavor there but bitter. Whatever floats his boat, she supposed. After taking a sip, Deputy Clarance placed the mug back, sighing.
"Yes well, right now the Department's biggest headache is the upcoming Fourth of July celebrations. While the council said yes to fireworks, the Ingelman's don't grasp that big bombs don't classify as fireworks but explosives." complained the Deputy. Jackie knew immediately what he was talking about. In the previous year, the Ingelman family nearly started a forest fire from their antics. They were well-meaning folk and in all her interactions with them, they were the nice sort if only really embodying the hick stereotype a bit too much.
"Well, they're fine people if a little bit on the hick side," Jackie nodded, half smiling at that before shaking her head. "At least they ain't… y'know, him."
Understanding came upon his face as he glanced outside the window. "Ah. That guy," Deputy Clarence said flatly.
All she knew was that he had no name and was called simply the Buyer. Their newcomer had suddenly waltzed into town undergoing a massive spending spree. Everything as innocuous as boxes of nails and seed packets and canned goods. What was interesting however was that he never haggled, always paid in bulk, and had them delivered to a specific address. No one had seen his face since he had always walked around with sunglasses and a thick hood, adding an air of mystery to him.
Though, who the hell wears thick coats in the summer of Kentucky?
"Say, the Sheriff found out anything about him?" Jackie asked the Deputy. She then leaned in, her voice low. "He, um, dangerous?"
The man took a sip of his coffee before shaking his head. "Nah. He never bothers no one unless they have something they could sell him." answered the Deputy. "Dangerous? Unlikely. He hasn't tried to peddle some cult mumbo-jumbo to anyone for now. Unless something happens, the Department is content to leave him alone."
"Eh, fair enough," Jackie shrugged her shoulders. In a week, this was no longer her concern. She would be off to sunny Cali and far away from crazy pyromaniac hillbillies, complaining old folks, and the slow pace of a small town life.
Far away from Knox, from Kentucky.
"Anyway, back to this July 4th, is the barbeque grilling competition still happening?" Jackie asked again, The town had a tradition held every Independence Day in making the most succulent roasted beef ever. One of the few things Jackie would miss from Riverside. At that, Deputy Clarence nodded enthusiastically.
"The competition? You bet!" he grinned. "The Farmer's cooperative are planning to supply cows to slaughter. You got your usual contestants coming in."
"Oh yeah? Gramma Rosie is joining?" Jackie asked with a slight drooling of the mouth. Her lips just taste the succulent beef slow-roasted with herbs and spices.
"She'll probably win again. Well, it ain't a bad thing. Old lady like that needs the money anyway," Deputy Clarence said with a shrug of his shoulders. He took another sip off his mug before his eyes settled on his watch. Taking the mug off, he shook his head. "Well, back to work for me. I'll go and see you roun, Miss Wrynn."
"Of course, Deputy. Don't forget to leave your money now," Jackie said dryly. The deputy nodded, planting a wad of cash on the counter before he turned to leave. Taking the cash, the waitress moved to take away the mug and wash it. It wasn't even rush hour yet and she was already tired.
The images of California played in her mind. The beaches… the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. As she went ahead to deposit the mug in the sink, she reminded herself that there was simply one more week of monotony then, she would be free.
Then, her ears shivered as a rubber squealed then finally, a booming crash. Alert, Jackie quickly turned off the sink and ran out of the diner. Outside, a crowd was forming around the scene of a crash. Glass and metal was everywhere though thankfully, no blood. Jackie marched up, her heels clacking against the asphalt road as she glanced at the old jalopy that had crashed into another car.
She clicked her lips. "Oh, missus Kettleman!" she called out as she made her way to the jalopy. Inside the car sat two elders in quiet shock at what happened. She peered in and saw that they were uninjured though Mister Kettleman was holding the wheel tight, his hands shaking. He was fat and balding, already in his years. His wife was elderly as well though her hair had some color. She glanced up as she heard Jackie call her name.
"Oh-um, we're fine, sugar. Howard simply lost control, is all," the elderly lady assured her. Wanting to hear it from the man himself, Jackie glanced up to him. Despite the assurance, he simply looked… sick. He was an odd shade of green, the pupils of his eyes dilating wildly.
"Mister Kettleman, you aight there?" Jackie asked him carefully.
"Hm? Uh, yeah. Just tired," confessed the man. "It's been a long day today,"
"It's 10:47 AM, Mister Kettleman," Jackie clarified. The man blinked again and again. "It's 10:47? Oh, I'm sorry. I thought it was 3."
"It's fine," Jackie added raising her hands. "But you okay? You need me to call an ambulance?"
The elderly man shook his head. "Oh, no need, lil missy. We'll be on our way now," he insisted, restarting his engine repeatedly. As he did so, Jackie nodded. If that's what he wanted then who was she to argue?
"If you say so…" she drawled, retreating back slightly. Eventually, their beat up car roared to life and it pulled away, the engines sputtering in protest as it drove off. Jackie glanced down at the glass and metal on the asphalt and shook her head.
Yeah. One week more and she was out.
A/N: You poor summer child.
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