by Newman, AJ
The huge truck slid to a stop after Jon yelled, “Stop!” after he saw the hogs behind the fence.
Samantha warned, “Jon, sliding to a stop is detrimental …”
“Shut up. I should’ve kept the Ford AI?”
The hogs were there to attract attention to the business. Dozens were dead, and Jon feared they’d all die from thirst and hunger. Jon didn’t like pigs much but hated to see any animal suffer. He walked over to the fence with Bo trotting by his side. He couldn’t cut the wire, so he went down the driveway and found the gate to the pen and opened it. Before he knew it, two of the beasts ran through the opening and knocked him down. They squealed as they attacked him. He kicked their snouts several times while he tried to draw his gun from his hip holster. It was under him, but he remembered he had his Glock on his chest.
Bo jumped between Jon and the hogs, biting and growling at them. This allowed Jon to draw his Glock. He took aim at the one farthest away from Bo and shot twice. The hog let out an unearthly squeal and took off for the bushes. Bo and the pig faced each other, with neither giving quarter. The hog tried to bite Bo, but Bo bit the sow’s ear. He finally drove the porker away after circling her for another few minutes.
Jon felt pain in his leg and pulled his pant leg up enough to see the shallow gash in his leg. “Those damned sows were going to eat me alive,” he protested on the way to the truck to fetch some antibiotics, antibiotic cream, and bandages.
Jon doctored his leg and then gave Bo a Milk Bone dog biscuit. “Good boy. You saved my life.”
Bo barked and whined until Jon followed him to a wooden structure behind the office and display room. Bo pawed at the door until Jon opened it to reveal a dozen smoked hams. The sign on the door indicated the shoulders were fully smoked and ready to sell. Jon sliced a piece off and tossed it to Bo, who caught it in the air. Jon ate a slice himself and then took three of the hams to the truck. He wrapped them in waxed paper from the office and was ready to go.
“Bo, ya done good. You are a good boy.”
Bo jumped into the truck’s seat and did his twirling around routine before settling down. He laid his head on the console between him and Jon, so Jon could scratch his ears. Jon looked down at his new best friend and rubbed Bo’s ears before asking Samantha to drive on up the road.
Samantha probed, “Are you okay? Your blood pressure is high, and your heartbeat is too fast.”
Jon quipped, “I’m just glad to be back with you.”
“That’s BS, and we both know it, although I think you are warming up to me.”
By the time he saw the sign for Redwood, Oregon, there were subdivisions and strip malls on the side of the road. He saw the occasional body beside the road or hanging out of a car’s window until Redwood. This abruptly changed with the higher population, as did the Earth’s natural clean up mechanism. Jon was sickened when he saw the flock of buzzards feasting on the woman. That was bad, but the opossums nibbling on a body almost caused him to lose his lunch.
Jon pulled off the road into a gas station to collect himself. Samantha said, “Human,” just before he heard a tapping on the window. Jon jerked sideways in his seat to escape and heard a man’s voice. “Are you okay?”
Jon was amazed the man didn’t have blood on his face. “I’m okay, but I’m not rolling my window down. I don’t want to get the disease.”
“You won’t get the disease. We’re immune. I thought my group was the only people who would survive, but I’m happy there are others,” the man said.
Jon had his pistol by his side, ready to shoot. “Why do you think we didn’t get the disease?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a week or so. I feel we have some genetic trait that keeps us from getting the plague. Have you been in the hospital or had a major injury lately?”
It had been five years since he’d been in the hospital. Jon replied, “No, not for five years or so. I’ve been afraid to even think I was immune, but we have encountered several sick people and had their blood on me.”
“We?”
“My dog, Bo and me.”
“Damn, I hoped there was another human survivor. Where ya going?”
Jon answered, “Mobile, Alabama, where my folks live. What about you?”
“Damn, that’s a far piece to travel. I’m retired on disability from the Navy and staying around here. I’m one of those doomsday preppers. There are about forty of us hiding at our compound not far from here. I think I’m the only one with immunity from the disease. We’re all veterans and our families. Many were wounded over in Europe and just wanted to get away from the outside world. I had a leg blown off over in France during the uprising of terrorists in their ghettoes. I hear they’re still fighting. Oops, were fighting. I only hear some chatter on my short wave radio once in a while since the plague hit.”
Jon was astonished. “You’ve talked with outsiders?”
“Yep, but they don’t know much more than we do. It started in a remote bioweapons lab in Russia and spread quickly because the damned Russian Military thought they could contain it before telling their leaders. The plague was on airplanes flying around the world before the UN and the USA knew it existed. Our cowardly leaders are hiding in bunkers. The SOBs.”
Jon said, “I heard the same story from a dying man a couple of days ago. I’d love to join your group, but I have to go south to find my family. If I ever get back up this way, I’ll look you up.”
“Just be careful if you come back this way. Some of our people don’t cotton to outsiders. If you do come, just tell our lookouts that George P. Washington told you to come to our mountain.”
Jon had a confused look on his face. The man said, “No, it’s not my name. I’m Bill, and I gotta go. Goodbye, and stay safe.
The man left as fast as he appeared.
Jon didn’t want anyone else to sneak up on him, so he ordered, “Alert me if there is any movement within fifty feet of the truck.”
“Moving and parked?”
“No, just parked.”
Chapter 6
Boulder City, Nevada – June 2038
The tall raven-haired woman didn’t waste time putting on gloves or a mask to cover her face because she thought she’d be dead in a few days. The crusted blood around their eyes, ears, and mouth, sickened her, but the screams caused by the pain wracking their bodies were worse. She couldn’t think about that now. The horrible pain and suffering her family and neighbors had endured would haunt her forever, but not now. She had things to do.
She secretly prayed to live for at least another week or more, so she could see her family once more. In her grief, she didn’t think her visit could doom them to this bloody death. The sun rose while she buried her sister and niece before deciding what to do with the rest of her life. Living wasn’t a big topic for Jill until the day the president told the nation to shelter in place. Until the plague, she’d lived with her sister and niece until she could afford a home of her own.
Her mind wandered back in time. She’d been fired from the Henderson City Police Department, which was a few miles out Highway 30 from Ft. Worth, for using excessive force and had to sell her home and use up her savings until her sister Jane used her connections to get Jill a job on the Boulder Police Department.
The charge was bogus and stemmed from her resisting the advances of a city councilman. He’d made advances toward her, which she resisted, and then tried to run his hand up under her skirt at a bar. Jill grabbed his hand, twisted it behind his back, and slammed his head into the bar top. She placed handcuffs on him and read him his Miranda Rights before calling the arrest into the station. Of course, the councilman was the mayor’s brother-in-law, and the situation went downhill from there.
The Boulder City Police Chief had gone to college with her sister, Jane, and already knew Jill Scott to be a good cop. She was fired by the city council even though numerous witnesses backed up her recount of the arrest. That would have been the end of the story; however, the truckloads of
horse manure appearing overnight on the councilman’s, and the mayor’s lawns started a firestorm between the citizens and city officials. The last straw was the women picketing the councilman’s house with signs saying he was a sexual predator. The councilman who groped Jill loaded his shotgun with birdshot and shot the protestors. The police arrested the demonstrators.
Later that night, the predator councilman went back to his favorite bar to celebrate with his friends. The usual patrons left when they saw him enter the bar. He gave them the finger as they left and drank until he could only stagger to his car. He was missing for two days until a farmer found him walking naked on West Freeway with his hands tied behind him and a sign reading ‘Pervert’ in large red letters. He also had a large “L” cut into his forehead, along with blue and yellow bruises all over his body. The farmer didn’t help the pervert and called his city friends to help form a parade to follow the pervert back to town.
The Henderson Police tried to tie Jill into the crime, but she had a solid alibi. The mayor and police made life difficult for Jill and threatened any company that hired her. She finally gave up and moved to Boulder City, Nevada, to live with her sister. Jill thought I should have cut his balls off and let him bleed to death instead of beating him within an inch of his life.
The tall, slim woman’s mind snapped back to reality. Jill wiped the sweat from her brow and pitched the last shovel of dirt on her niece’s grave before sitting on the patio and crying for the first time in years. She didn’t cry during the entire debacle in Henderson because the crap only hurt her. This was family, and family meant everything to her. She sat there, drinking a glass of sweet tea while planning what to do next. Her mom, dad, brother, and his family lived close to Lubbock, Texas, and she needed to get there to protect them as soon as possible.
She had driven her old Chrysler from Henderson to Boulder City a year ago and knew the way, but wanted more detail so she could avoid the larger cities. Her phone, laptop, and van worked as usual, except no one answered her calls, and the internet was dead. She could write letters and make spreadsheets but couldn’t email them or share them with others. The grid was down, and most people in the city died within a few weeks after the first symptoms. The folks in the country lasted a week or so longer, but the virus or whatever was killing the people eventually made it to every farm and hamlet around the county.
Jill found her sister’s old Rand McNally book of maps and made notes for her journey. She also made a list for the trip. Replacing the Chrysler with something more dependable and much more rugged was first on the list. The notes for the journey and list grew by the minute. She took a break to clear her mind and began to gather the items on the list. Food, clothing, hygiene items, camping gear, guns, and ammo lay on the garage floor. She had her 12-gauge pump shotgun, Sig Sauer 9-mm pistol, and Jane’s concealed carry .380 pistol. Weapons were the second-highest concern behind replacing the van.
Jill walked through her sister’s home, looking for anything useful for her trip and survival in general. Jill was more of a tomboy than a girlie-girl and didn’t have many dresses. She pulled one off its hanger, held it up against her in a mirror, and saw a plain woman with no makeup and raven black hair. She had never thought of herself as pretty and never dated much. She always thought men found her to be too assertive and a bit bossy. Actually, she scared most men. She was a confident woman who, as a military policewoman, could shoot, fight, and out drink most of the men she knew. Even though men were attracted to her, they steered away from her when they got to know her. She was a bit overpowering for them.
She didn’t like the idea of stealing what she needed but didn’t think the dead would mind a great deal. Jill drove through the city and thought it would be good to get back to Texas and the open areas. The houses in Boulder were stacked upon each other with no yards to speak of at all. There were only a few bodies on the street near Jane’s home, but a different story unfolded in the heart of the city. City Hall had burned, and the police station had all the windows broken. There were dead bodies strewn around the street.
She saw a man wave frantically at her from the front seat of a Chevy truck parked at a pharmacy. Blood covered his face, and a bloody mist filled the air when he sneezed. Jill kept her distance from him. This reminded her to stop at the pharmacy and stock up on medical supplies. The doors had been shattered with rocks, and a man soaked in blood lay in the entrance. He’d been shot several times. She stepped over him and walked back to the pharmacist’s counter to find it ransacked. There were no antibiotics left, but she found plenty of general medicines and wound treatment supplies. She also took two large first aid kits back to the truck.
She passed the Chevy dealer, pulled into the Dodge dealership, and parked by the new truck parking area. She wanted a four-wheel-drive, even though the gas mileage wasn’t as good as the two-wheel-drive models. She soaked her handkerchief with water and tied it around her mouth and nose to help prevent contamination. She wasn’t sure if it would make a difference, but it couldn’t hurt.
She glanced at the new trucks but passed them by to walk into the showroom. Only two bodies lay on the floor of the showroom. Jill ignored them while she surveyed the room. She walked behind the manager’s desk and looked at the hundreds of keys on the board. Then she found what she wanted. Above a separate section were the words, “Sales Demo Keys.” Jill searched through the keys and found a tag that read, ‘2038 3500 Dodge Ram 4x4 – Black.’ She didn’t want an untested new vehicle. The huge Dodge Power Wagon had the large 426 CI Hemi engine, oversized tires, dual rear wheels, and the eight-foot bed. The truck had the super cab, and it would hold more than enough food, water, and supplies for her trip. The thing that pleased her most was the dual gas tanks. She was only worried about the amount of fuel the truck could carry, even with the extra built-in gas tank.
Jill sat in the driver’s seat and adjusted the controls and seat to fit her. The truck said, “I don’t recognize you.”
Jill said, “I’ve got your keys in my pocket, and I don’t give a frig if you don’t recognize me. Do a system check and get your ass ready to go!”
Jill drove the truck to the maintenance bay and broke a window to enter the massive garage. She tugged at the chain to raise the garage door and then drove the truck into the bay. She loved the truck, its leather seats, and its stance. This was the right one for her. She searched the area and found the storage room where she found what she needed. The fifty-gallon aluminum gas tank weighed only seventy pounds, and she quickly pushed it across the floor to the truck. Lifting one end up to lean on the tailgate was a chore, but she got it up against the tailgate. A short break was needed while she figured out how to get the tank into the truck’s bed.
Squatting below the end of the tank, she lifted with her legs to avoid straining her back. The tank rose as she pushed it into the pickup bed. The container was finally in far enough that Jill could take a breather before pushing it up against the front of the cab and finishing the installation. She sat on the tailgate, taking a breather when a rat ran across the floor towards her. Her reflexes brought her feet up and straight out above the floor. The rat looked up at her feet and then ran to the back of the building. She actually felt threatened by the rat, though she usually would have picked it up by the tail and pitched it across the floor.
The tank was easy to secure to the bed, but the wiring for the pump was a bit tricky. The container was meant to gravity flow into the extra gas tank, but there was no electricity, so Jill couldn’t drill the hole for the automatic refill to work. She never noticed the truck had an AC outlet in the bed powered through an inverter connected to the dual batteries. She could have used the power drill.
The pump was easy to wire, per the supplied wiring diagram. She could now pump gas into or out of the large tank. She raided the shop’s supply room of all of the tubing she could find. Now, she could fill her tank from gas station fuel tanks. It would be slow, and she would still have to fill the truck’s tank from th
e spare tank in the pickup bed. Not a perfect situation, but she would start out with a little over one hundred gallons of gas. Even in four-wheel drive at ten miles to the gallon, she could travel a thousand miles before having to fill up. She planned to top off the truck’s tank every two hundred miles or so when safety allowed.
She climbed into the driver’s seat. The truck spoke, “There is a new electronic device wired into my system. The ground wire is not properly grounded. I can’t move until the ground wire is properly grounded.”
Jill climbed back out and went to the bed of the truck. She inspected the self-tapping screw securing the ground wire, and as she suspected, it was trapping the brass connection against the sprayed-in bed liner. She used her knife to cut through the thin coating and reinstalled the ground wire against the bare metal.
The truck started, and she drove away.
The outdoor store yielded a camp stove, camping supplies, a 5.56 caliber AR, and nine boxes of ammunition. The store had been looted, evidenced by the dead looters spread around the front door. She recognized the owner who had a shotgun in his hands. He died from multiple gunshot wounds before the plague had a chance to kill him. He killed more than a dozen men and women trying to loot his store. She loaded her shopping cart into the truck and thanked him before she sped off to go back to her sister’s home.
She went back to her sister’s home and gathered some pictures of Jane and her niece, along with a few personal possessions. She then went to the back-yard to say good-bye. She said the Lord’s Prayer and left forever after placing some plastic flowers on her sister’s grave.
The long hose dropped into the tank, she flipped the valve and pushed the button to start the pump. Fifteen minutes later, her truck’s tanks were topped off, and she was more than ready to get the hell out of Boulder. Samantha drove across the O’Callaghan-Tillman Bridge into Arizona. She dodged stalled cars as she traveled down Highway 93. She was getting used to the bodies with the blood pooled around their heads, but she became sick when she saw the four young kids lying beside their parents. She took a gulp of water and drove on, wondering if she was the last living person on the Earth.
