The Inroad Chronicles (Book 1): Legion Seed

by Erickson, Brian

  As they got closer, they could first make out a large automobile then recognized it as an SUV. When they finally trudged halfway up the incline, which seemed to dangle opportunity aloft over their heads teasingly, they identified it as a military Humvee. It had a gun mounted on top and looked armored, ready for combat. Whoever drove it there had left it in the middle of the road with the driver’s side door open, completely deserted.

  “Look, it’s a Gatling gun!” Jim managed the first bit of excitement any of them had exhibited since escaping campus.

  Jeremy shook his head. “It’s a minigun. That’s what they call ‘em now.”

  Jim raised one eyebrow and scowled. “Same difference.”

  “That oughta come in handy.” The first smile crossed Donnie’s face that he could remember for days.

  Jeremy nodded and also wore a wide smile. “Damn right.” He took a look inside and nearly jumped at what he saw. “Oh my God!” He scrambled into the driver’s seat head first and backed out just as quickly with a full bottle of water in hand. “Yes, goddammit, yes!” He threw off the cap and turned the bottle straight up into his mouth. As the water coated his parched throat, he slowly rolled one eye over and noticed that the other four stared at the clear liquid while pressing their lips together, as bubbles raced up and smacked the end of the bottle. Jeremy slowly lowered his arm and let out a large sigh while handing the bottle over with a grin stretching from ear to ear. “Oh, that's better, have some.”

  After a series of loud gulps, the last drop gathered on the bottle’s rim and threatened to never fall. Each one of them immediately had color return to their faces, and regained some energy.

  Donnie moved around to the rear and looked inside the rest of the vehicle. His eyes widened, and he smacked his hands together. “Hey y’all, more good news.” He pointed at the back as everyone crowded the rear hatch and peered in.

  Inside they saw a box with several more unopened water bottles, and another box packed with MRE’s sat next to a camping stove. The group erupted into cheers and hugs accented with high-fives and fist bumps.

  They immediately started to devour crackers and chips, and happily opened more water bottles. Pretty soon the scene looked like a group of happy hikers on a snack break during a long trek.

  Awhile later, after they had thoroughly re-hydrated, replenished, and rested their bodies; they decided to climb into the Humvee and get back on the road.

  Donnie inventoried the rest of the rear hatch's contents. It had some flares, extra propane for the camping stove, a first aid kit, pistol ammunition, and an extra ammunition case for the minigun. “Whoever left this stuff behind must’ve gone in a hurry. You’d think they’d at least take some food with ‘em and extra bullets.” Donnie shook his head and closed the tailgate. “We better get goin’.” He looked toward the gun, which opened to the inside of the vehicle through a hatch that allowed the user to climb in and out of the assembly from the cabin, and gave a clever smile. “I can take the first shift on the gun while y’all relax.”

  Jeremy’s head shot up from the other side of the vehicle. “No way man, you’re the best driver here, so I think I should take the gun first, because I’m not a great driver, but I can probably shoot better’n you.”

  “Here we go.” Meg rolled her eyes and looked away.

  “Well there’s obviously only one solution here.” Donnie smiled and held his arms out wide. “We’ll have to play Rock Paper Scissors for it.”

  “That’s retarded.” Laura went and stood beside Meg, and they both crossed their arms and sulked.

  Jeremy mashed his fist into his hand. “Rock Paper Scissors it is then.”

  Simultaneously they began banging their fists in their palms and chanting the opening sequence that was the game’s namesake.

  Donnie won the first two out of three and could not hide grin on his face. “You always lose when you do scissors. When are you gonna learn?”

  “It’s not over yet…best of five.”

  “No way, two out of three, that’s it, you lost man.”

  “I said best of five!” Jeremy tightened his face and widened his stance.

  “Fine, you big baby! Best of five.” Donnie pursed his lips and continued less excitedly. “We all know where this is headed. You just have to win.”

  Jeremy grinned and chuckled softly. “Well, at least this way it’ll have a civil outcome.”

  Several minutes later, after more bickering, Jeremy took the coveted position by crushing scissors with rock to win seven out of thirteen games. By that time the others had climbed inside the vehicle, and stared at them with blank faces.

  Jeremy raised a fist into the air and climbed up behind the gun with a toothy grin. “See, getting what you want in life just takes persistence, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, and some threats, new rule, from here on out Rock Paper Scissors is played to the best of three unless agreed on beforehand. Or else, the whole thing’s null and void, agreed?” Donnie raised his eyebrows and stared at Jeremy.

  “Agreed, by the way…you know, you do belong behind the wheel. We should play to our strengths, and nobody here can drive like you.”

  “Yeah, I know. I reckon before this is over, we’ll probably be pretty thankful my Dad taught me a few tricks.” Donnie forced a smile at the thought of his dad, Vernon. He had been an amateur race car driver in his youth who went by the nickname Big Thunder. While not possessing professional grade skills, he was no slouch either. Under his tutelage Donnie learned how to properly execute Doughnuts and the movie-style hard turns when a car skids around a corner and into a new road, amongst other maneuvers. “All right, y’all ready?”

  Laura shivered with her arms wrapped tightly across her chest. “Yeah, how ‘bout a little heat?”

  Donnie climbed in and looked in the rearview mirror at her while cranking the dial into the red. “Sure, in fact we should have thought of that long ago.” He turned the ignition, and heat poured into the cabin as the engine roared to life. Everyone sighed with relief at the change in temperature and the engine working, and leaned back in the chairs to rest.

  Donnie backed up at an angle and prepared to cut the wheel into the road when a zipping sound rang out, and the top of a fence post by the road fell over, sawed in half. Astonished, everybody looked up at Jeremy whose face was lit up revealing a row of white teeth.

  “Sorry…just testing.” He held one hand in the air, but still wore a huge grin as the minigun’s barrel spun to a halt.

  The others shook their heads as Donnie hit the gas and took off down the road. They drove for miles on end and gradually found an abandoned gas station to refill at. They also busted into the station’s shop and scrounged for more food and drink. Their fortune had turned from abysmal to blessed so fast that they almost forgot about the real problem still lurking around them somewhere.

  They got back on the road cramming chips into their mouths and slurping down drinks.

  Jim ate more delicately than the others, and he devoted most of his attention to staring out the window. “I don’t want to burst everyone’s bubble or anything…”

  “Yes, you do.” Jeremy had spread out in the rear hatch where he sat sucking on candy.

  Jim’s eyes flared and his face reddened. “But! Has anybody noticed that we have not seen any other people for days? Where is everyone?”

  Meg slurped some soda before answering. “Well that gas station looked like no one had gone back to work after the asteroid, not surprising with those things runnin’ around.”

  “How do we know everybody around here did not turn into one of those things?” Jim had an open hand raised in the air.

  Laura looked around at everyone’s faces with a blank expression.

  Donnie adjusted the rearview mirror so he could see the others in the back. “That makes sense, but it still begs the question: where did everybody go?”

  Jeremy shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe they all survived and ran away.”

  Donnie’s ey
es narrowed. “Perhaps.” He chewed on his lower lip as he looked at the road.

  They passed a sign that read: NASHVILLE – 30 miles.

  Donnie smacked the steering wheel. “Crap!” He saw the others looking at him quizzically in the rearview mirror. “We have to take the long way around the city and keep to these country roads. If we go in there, it might be just like college was, only a thousand times worse.”

  When the others heard the last part of his statement, their eyes bulged in their sockets as flashbacks of the carnage played in their minds.

  From the back Jeremy snickered. “What are you talkin’ about man? It won’t be like that, look at that gun! We’ll just mow their asses down!” Jeremy smiled and squeezed his hands in the air, mimicking the firing position.

  Donnie shook his head and shot him an icy glance in the rearview mirror. “Jeremy, it would take a thousand of those guns, even more with the suburbs, to clear a city like that if those things control the streets. We’d be better off with a bunch of bombs. I have to insist going in there is a very, very bad idea.” He drove his index finger into the wheel as he stared into the rearview mirror.

  Jim raised a finger. “I second that.”

  Donnie waved a hand at the girls. “Laura, Meg…yea or nay?”

  Their faces scrunched up for a second, and then they looked at each other. Their eyes seemed to convey an understanding that the others could not see. At the same time they responded, “Yea.”

  Donnie nodded. “Then it’s settled. We go around.”

  Jeremy’s lips tightened up, and he started to speak, but then his face sagged down, and he lowered himself toward the floor. Seconds later he rose up and glared at Meg. “Thanks for backin’ me up.” Then he climbed up through the hatch to the turret and looked outside at nothing, gripping the gun with both hands, mirroring a steering wheel.

  They drove on for a few minutes longer and found a sign for another state road that bypassed the city. It pointed them ahead to an intersection where they could take their new road one mile away. Then, as they topped a hill, Donnie stabbed the brake peddle. They all stared down into a valley with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

  Donnie shook his head defying the scene below, his long face mirrored his crushed soul. “What is happening?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Claustrophobia has a nasty way of setting in sometimes when people just want a little space. Ever since Jackson had come back down to the basement, he and Kathleen had been afraid to go outside again out of fear for their own safety. Jackson, in particular, had less of a problem with the fact that they had not left the basement, and more of a problem with the fact that they could not leave it. When he dispatched the Langfords, the noise seemed to attract other creatures of similar intent. The sturdy new door he installed effectively held them at bay, so far, but fear had made itself a constant companion.

  Sometime after Jackson returned with the food, he heard a noise upstairs and went to check it out. After his previous experience he could not bring himself to open the door. Instead, he just put his ear to it and listened. What he heard on the other side made his skin crawl, and he could only think about how grateful he felt that a sturdy door sat between his family and the beyond. Outside he heard shuffling feet, grunts, groans, and at one point a squeal that sounded like a person in need nearly set him into a frenzy. Then with his ear still pressed to the door, he heard fingernails dragging across the wood on the other side, and he cringed. He quickly pulled his head away when another set of hands pounded the door and the thud reverberated into his skull. He dropped his head and went back downstairs with slumped shoulders. After that Jackson sat quietly for a while deep in thought.

  Kathleen gave him his space for as long as she could stand. She had been pacing back and forth and glaring out the window every few minutes for over an hour. “Jackson how do you know they were not just in shock or something? They were pretty old.”

  “Kat, I know they were elderly but trust me; I’m tellin’ you the truth. Those things up there ain’t normal, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “How can you be sure based on one elderly couple?”

  Jackson’s face tightened up, and he spoke through his teeth. “Do elderly people keep walking after you put a dozen bullets into ‘em, huh? Do their heads keep workin’ after being damn near cut off from the body? You answer me that! Then we’ll talk about shock. Shit!” He ran a limp hand through his hair and rested it on his knee. “Do you want to hear more gory little details or is that enough?”

  “Fine…sorry.” Kathleen’s lips puckered underneath her steady gaze. She sat silently for a second looking at the floor then she looked up and touched her finger to her lips. “But you know, we do have to get out at some point. We can’t stay down here forever. Our food won’t last, and, besides, it’s just not right living down here with the baby on the way.”

  “Right doesn’t matter anymore. Believe me, none of it matters.”

  “Now Jackson, what kind of an attitude is that? Don’t you wanna get out of here and see if any others are all right? What about family and friends? We haven’t had contact with anyone in days. Don’t you wanna know if people are okay?”

  “If those things are runnin’ around all over the place out there, then nobody’s all right. I don’t know how we survived it.”

  “That’s just it. Why did we survive it? How do you know that lots of other people did not stay safe too?”

  “Well I guess one clue was, instead of having a search and rescue team come and save us, a bunch of those half-dead vultures showed up instead!” He stood up as his voice grew louder, until the words thundered out of his mouth, and he had clenched one of his fists into a tight ball. “What do you want me to do? And help me out with this one: If a lot of other people are alive, then please explain to me why those things are too. If we were in control those…dead-living, whatever they are, would be gettin’ exterminated, and somebody’d show up to rescue us or at least recruit us to help out. We'd at least hear guns or trucks or somethin'. There’s nobody left alive up there.” He had begun pointing up to the door, and the thrusts of his arm reminded Kathleen of a piston. Then he dropped his shoulders, moped to the corner, collapsed onto the floor, and put his head down. At that moment hands started smacking the door upstairs, accompanied by groans. Jackson looked at Kathleen and gestured toward the door with an—I told you so—look on his face.

  Kathleen sat down and leaned on the table with her head propped up by her hand calmly staring at Jackson balled up on the floor. Inside she felt nothing remotely like calm but knew Jackson could not see that, or else he would have no lifeline with which to regain his will to fight. She blinked several times as she continued thinking, a nervous habit that started in college whenever she got overloaded with work. The baby delivered a sharp kick inside her stomach as it stretched out, and her eyes bulged. “Ooh!” She caressed her belly with one hand and blinked a few more times.

  Normally Jackson would have come over to feel her stomach and share the moment, but he stayed in the corner with his head down.

  Kathleen exhaled as the sensation in her belly subsided. She leaned back in her chair and flattened out her shoulders, but her eyes continued to blink occasionally. She looked up at the door and blinked a few more times then looked back at Jackson. She traced a finger over the barrel of one of the guns, and then returned her head to perch on her hand as she drew in a long breath and sighed.

  ✹✹✹

  Ron’s eyes shot open with a start and ripped him out of slumber. Rolling onto his back he stared at the ceiling with half closed eyes and yawned. Tingles left behind by needed sleep tickled the front of his head and around the eyes. He had lingered awhile in the shadow lands between sleep and cognizance, where dreams leave a decipherable mark and connect to thoughts more clearly. Images of his encounters in the yard had repeatedly flashed in front of his eyes, a disfigured, ashen face here, a clawing hand there, and a bloody fist. He slowly sat up and rubbed his e
yes. He looked over at Ann, who still slept quietly beside him. She breathed normally, and looked relaxed by comparison, her dreams unfettered by cold dead hands and gaping rotten mouths. Ron wished he could have the same peace of mind back.

  He got up, put on some clothes, and went out to have a look around. He checked the monitor, and saw nothing moving in front of the house. He exhaled audibly as he stared at it, but then he looked over at Cassius who sat in front of the door at attention, and his forehead wrinkled. “Cassius?” Ron scratched his chin as he continued staring at the dog. Could be an animal outside, like a squirrel. That would do it. He walked over to see him.

  What is it boy? What’s out there?” Cassius only looked at him with droopy eyes, let out a short whine, and turned back to the door. Ron looked sideways at him and went to the kitchen. He eyed the coffeemaker and the bottle of whiskey on the counter, and his eyes went back and forth a couple of times between them. Finally, he shook his head and opened the cupboard to retrieve a bag of grounds. He set the coffee down and looked back at the bottle, then dropped the bag, grabbed the bottle, and put it in the cupboard. Out of sight out of mind. He set the coffee to brew and looked up at Cassius again as the water hissed into the filter. He walked over and checked the monitor again and scratched the back of his head at the sight of the empty yard. He looked back at Cassius sitting in front of the door and wrinkled his forehead. That’s so odd. Maybe I shot all the ones in this area, or maybe I didn’t attract more. He watched as Cassius would occasionally change between sitting and standing, scratching the floor and turning his head to the side, eyes always on the door. The wrinkles furrowing Ron’s brow closed in tighter around his eyes.

  “What’s his problem?” Ann stood in the doorway to the bedroom in her underwear, wearing one of Ron’s white undershirts which stretched over the swell of her breasts. The shirttail just reached her upper thighs as she crossed her legs.

  Ron glanced at her legs and quickly flattened his face as he poured a cup of coffee and nearly spilled it all over the counter. “I don’t know.” As he sipped his coffee his eyes wandered over the mug’s rim toward her curves. “He’s been like that since I woke up. You want some coffee?”