Last Pandemic (Book 2): Escape The City

by Westfield, Ryan

  “I thought I was going to die, too,” she said.

  There was silence.

  Silence in the darkness.

  “Come on,” he said. “This is as good a time as any to get the hell out of this house.”

  “Shouldn’t we gather some supplies?”

  “Do you have anything?”

  “I don’t know. Some food. What do you think we’ll need?”

  He shrugged. He didn’t really know.

  “Maybe some knives,” he said, his eyes flickering down to the knife that she’d cut herself with. It still lay on the floor. It was still covered in blood. “I don’t know, really.”

  Then he started talking. He didn’t really know what he was saying, except that he just said whatever came to his mind. He told her about his wife. He told her about the security guards. He told her about his parents and what they’d been like before they’d died.

  “It really feels like the end of the world, doesn’t it?” she said, as a way to respond to his long monologue.

  “Yeah,” he said. “It really does.”

  The night was astoundingly silent. The silence seemed to ring out, as if it were as loud as a rock concert. The invisible and normally unnoticeable hum of the city had simply stopped. The machines had wound down and the cogs and gears that made everything work were motionless, silent in the night.

  Wordlessly, they got up.

  Both were drenched in blood.

  She opened the fridge and started taking food out, handing it to him.

  They were getting ready.

  Soon they’d leave, heading out once again, into the city ravaged by what might as well have been a plague.

  12

  Matt

  Matt waited mere seconds.

  It was a matter of judgment. A matter of guesswork.

  If he pulled the trigger too soon, then the shot would likely miss. The target would be out of range. And it would give the stocky man time to fire.

  It would mean that Matt would die.

  If Matt waited too long, he might die anyway.

  He had to get it just right.

  No point in worrying about it. Just go for it. These thoughts ran through his head.

  He pulled the trigger.

  The gun kicked.

  The stocky man fell. It hadn’t been a great shot. Matt had aimed for his torso. Instead, he’d hit his thigh.

  The stocky man grunted in pain, dropped to one knee. He was trying to keep it together, trying not to collapse to the ground, trying to keep his own gun in his hand.

  But it was too late for him.

  Matt was already walking toward him swiftly, long strides, gun outstretched.

  He squeezed the trigger.

  The stocky man fell. Dead. Right to the ground.

  Matt kept his gun arm outstretched for several seconds. He didn’t take his gaze off the dead man.

  Not more than twenty-four hours ago, he would have considered it a monumental event to take another man’s life. Now? It didn’t mean much to him, except that he’d survived.

  And he’d continue to survive. No matter how many he had to kill.

  The man was dead. Definitely dead.

  Turning around, facing the mountains, Matt could barely see Jamie and Judy. They were just little specks in the distance. He couldn’t tell if Judy had caught up with Jamie or not. Probably not, given how much distance they’d already put between themselves and the vehicle.

  Walking toward the crashed vehicles, Matt stopped at the stocky man’s corpse. He stooped down, grabbed the gun, checked it, switched on the safety, and stuck it in his waistband.

  It probably wasn’t a good place to store it, but at the moment, he didn’t have a lot of options. He’d read the stories of men who’d accidentally shot themselves in the leg, or, worse, the testicles. Probably they were men who didn’t understand the importance of the safety.

  There were two more corpses. One was mangled, smashed, splayed out inside one of the crashed vehicles. Blood everywhere. The face had been flattened by the car chassis.

  Another corpse was on the road. Someone else had made it out of the vehicle, trying to crawl away. But they hadn’t made it far. The man had died from the collision, barely making it any distance from the crash that had claimed his life.

  His skull was partially smashed in. There was no chance he would have made it. There was surprisingly little blood.

  Matt wanted to check the vehicles for useful supplies or weapons, but it didn’t seem safe. He knew that crashed vehicles usually only exploded in the movies, rather than real life, but still, it was an actual risk that he needed to be aware of.

  Looking off in the distance, the figures of Judy and Jamie hadn’t gotten any farther away.

  Matt sighed as he took off, jogging toward them.

  The dirt was dry and dusty beneath his feet.

  The mountains were really something, looming in place of the horizon, scraping the clouds. Despite living in a beautiful State with many national forests, Matt suddenly realized that he’d spent too much of his life in the city, away from the mountains, away from nature

  Well, he had a feeling that he was about to get his fill of nature.

  It took him a good five minutes to catch up to Judy and Jamie. He was slightly out of breath when he got there.

  “What’s going on?” he said, unable to contain his anger and frustration. “What the hell were you doing, Jamie? You can’t do shit like that. Not if we want to live.”

  “She was having a panic attack,” said Judy.

  “She can answer for herself, can’t she?” he said. “You’ve been on my case all day, Jamie, and now you pull a stunt like this? Look, there’s definitely an advantage to us sticking together, but not if some of us are going to be running off like this.”

  He took a good look at her now, for the first time since he’d gotten there.

  She was seated cross-legged on the ground. Judy had her arm around her, in a comforting sort of way.

  There were tears in Jamie’s eyes. And distress on her face.

  She looked up at him. Her eyes were wide. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft. “I just...I don’t know...I just screwed up...”

  “She’s really sorry,” said Judy. “Although she did make me chase her down.”

  “All right,” said Matt, realizing that at this point whatever Jamie had gone through, she seemed to have already gotten over it. “Unfortunately we don’t have time for a therapy session here, although obviously I’d really love to delve into our feelings. Come on, we’ve got to see if we can get the car out of here.”

  “We might end up walking,” said Judy. “It looked pretty bad.”

  “We might be able to get it out. How far do you think your cousin’s place is from here?”

  “Joe’s? I don’t know. Maybe ten miles?”

  “That could be quite a walk,” said Matt.

  “It’s not that far. It’d take us, what, five hours on the road?” Jamie was trying to be useful. Whatever had been on her mind, bothering her, she was trying to move past. Matt appreciated that.

  “We might be able to go a little faster than that,” said Matt, remembering that he’d heard that humans typically walk about 3 mph. And he figured they could go a little faster than typical people. “But the thing I don’t like is spending more time out on the open road.

  “Why?”

  “More exposure.”

  “To what? We’re apparently immune from the virus.”

  “Even if we don’t have to worry about the virus, chaos is enveloping everyone. Were you not aware of the insanity back there? That guy was walking toward us, ready to kill us. And for what? For no reason whatsoever? People are either dying or going mad from the stress of society falling apart.”

  “Uh, yeah, good points,” she said, somewhat humbly. “I mean, you’re right…” She sort of trailed off, not knowing how to admit that she was wrong, apparently. At least not well.

  “Come o
n,” said Matt. “No point in discussing it. Let’s just go try.” He held out his hands for Judy and Jamie. They each took one and he leaned back, pulled them to their feet.

  Together, they walked back to the car, and began the task of trying to get it back on the road.

  After about twenty minutes of frustration, cursing, and sweating, during which time no one drove by and the crashed vehicles continued to smoke ominously, Matt had to admit to himself that they simply weren’t going to get the car out.

  It was stuck and the back wheels spun uselessly, well above the ground.

  “If we had someone to give us a tow, or even a bump, maybe we could make it out, but...we’re not going to get it back on the road.”

  Judy nodded silently and began to gather gear from the car.

  “She’s got the right idea,” said Matt. “Come on, Jamie. We’ve got to figure out what we can carry.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were as ready as they were going to be. Since they didn’t have proper backpacks, they were limited by what they could manage to strap to themselves or carry.

  Matt carried a trash bag slung over his shoulder. It was heavy, but he could manage it.

  They started walking without a word, heading south, hoping to reach Judy’s cousin’s property without incident.

  As they walked, keeping the pace steady and reasonable, trying not to fatigue too early, Matt found himself glancing down at the backs of his hands, paying close attention to his veins.

  They weren’t sure, after all, that they actually were immune.

  Was it possible that they were merely less susceptible to the virus than others?

  13

  Joe

  Joe had rarely felt this angry. It was as if his head was actually full of steam, like in the cartoons.

  He actually felt hotheaded. As if his temperature were far higher than normal.

  His chest felt tight. His guts were clenched. Muscles all over his body were arbitrarily tense.

  They were driving down the road, headed north toward Santa Fe. They had gotten one of Joe’s other trucks, which had been parked not far away.

  “What choice did we have?” said Sean, from the passenger seat. “They outnumber us. What else could you have done?”

  There was a pleading tone to his voice.

  He’d been going on like this for the last ten minutes, while Joe drove in complete silence. He was too angry to even speak

  “Come on, Joe. I know you’re pissed. But don’t take this out on me, okay? I mean, look at it this way. I know you don’t like being run off your land. But it’s not forever. It’s just until everything calms down with the virus. I mean, do you think the cops are going to be okay with someone running you off your own land with guns? No way, man.”

  That was too much for Joe to take. Finally, he spoke. “You just don’t get it, do you? This is it. This is the new law and order. Force. It’s what you can do, what you can take, that matters now. There aren’t going to be any cops. Hell, if we make it through this...we’re going to have to take matters into our own hands.”

  “Aren’t you being a little dramatic?”

  Joe shook his head. “I wish I were,” he said. “I’ve always thought something like this would happen. Society has never been stable...just one little mishap and the whole house of cards comes tumbling down. But I always imagined that I’d have my land, that I could defend it.”

  “Well, we’ll just go hang out somewhere else for a while, right?”

  Joe shook his head vigorously. “I’m taking it back,” he said.

  The truck was bouncing along the dirt road. The mountains loomed up in front of them.

  Eventually, this road would lead onto 14, which did continue to Santa Fe. But there was a turnoff up ahead, another dirt road that would take them around to the other side of his property.

  “You’re taking it back? What do you mean?”

  “That property is all I have,” said Joe.

  “Come on,” said Sean. “It’s just land, right? I mean, no one can really own the land, can they?”

  “I told you before, Sean,” said Joe. “I can’t stand that hippy crap. I own the land. I have the title in city hall. I bought it. I paid for it. It’s mine. And if that whole system fails, then it’s going to be mine simply because I’ll be the one who defends it.”

  “No, I get it,” said Sean. “It’s important to you. But, like, we’ll have to just find somewhere else?”

  “Have you lost your mind? You know what’s on my property. Food. A well. Shelter. How are we going to survive without that? Without the well, for instance? Just that alone is enough...” His voice trailed off into angry mumbling. The anger was deep in his guts, and it wasn’t going anywhere until he got what he needed.

  “Can’t we just go somewhere else? There are bound to be other wells around. Right?”

  “Are you nuts? You’ve been here how long?” He didn’t let him answer the question. The answer wasn’t important anyway. “You really think that wells won’t be hotly contested? Water is even more important than food. You can survive a month without anything to eat other than your own muscle and adipose tissue. But water? Forget about it. Once the summer hits, we’re going to be hurting until monsoon season.”

  “But what’s the alternative? It’s just the two of us against a dozen. How’s that going to work?”

  “It’s going to work,” said Joe. “It’s got to.”

  “Yeah,” said Sean. “But how?”

  “With strategy,” said Joe.

  “Strategy? How’s that going to work?”

  Joe was still furious. “Look,” he said. “I’ll pull over right now. You can get out if you want. Head into Santa Fe. See how you survive there with all this shit going on.”

  “I’m good, Joe,” said Sean. “I’ve been with you this long. I’m not going to abandon you now. I just wish you’d tell me what’s going on in that insane head of yours.”

  “I’m still working on it, I guess,” muttered Joe, as he turned the truck down the dusty little dirt road that would soon reach the other side of his property.

  Up ahead, the sun was rising high in the sky. There were a few clouds here and there. Plenty of strange shapes that Joe had spent hours gazing at in the past, in the days of leisure and peace on his property.

  Those days were long gone.

  He’d do what it took to get his property back.

  It was all he had.

  14

  Will

  “How’s the duct tape holding up?” he said, finally mentioning the elephant in the room.

  “Good, I guess. You think I can take it off? It’s itching me like crazy.”

  “Better not,” said Will. “Don’t want it to start bleeding again. Or it could get infected.”

  “I’m not sure duct tape is the best thing for wounds, you know?”

  “I didn’t have much else to use. When we get somewhere safe, we’ll take another look at it. Get some antibiotic stuff on there. Wrap it up with something else.”

  “With that? More duct tape?”

  “If that’s what it takes, yeah.”

  They’d left Sara’s house behind them, walking through the morning as the sun rose.

  They were walking on suburban back roads that paralleled a major thoroughfare named Juan Tabo. Will had always wondered where the name had come from, but what he did know was that Juan Tabo was lined with all sorts of little shops. There was, for instance, a dentist’s office that he’d visited more than once to get fillings.

  He remembered that near the dentist’s office, there were all sorts of stores. Nothing big like a drugstore. No, for some reason there weren’t many chain stores. More like little e-cigarette vape stores. Or tarot card–reading places.

  They weren’t businesses that would have a lot of supplies, a lot of things that they could make use of.

  “We’ve got to figure out where we’re going, right?” said Sara.

  Will nodded. “Any suggestions?�
��

  They hadn’t known each other long. Really, they were still strangers to one another. But in the short time that they’d known each other, Will was starting to understand that Sara was a very intelligent young woman. Maybe prone to emotional trouble in the face of stress, maybe a little too sensitive, but definitely very intelligent.

  Hopefully she could use that intelligence to help keep them alive.

  “Either get out of the city, or hunker down in a private residence. Preferably one not filled with dead bodies and blood.”

  They hadn’t ended up gathering that many supplies from Sara’s family home.

  For one thing, her family simply hadn’t had much. He got the distinct impression that they were a family of modest means, and they certainly had not valued stockpiling gear or food. There hadn’t been much in the fridge or the cupboards, despite the obvious presence of a very large family.

  The other factor was that there’d been bodies and blood everywhere. It had made it simply emotionally impossible for Sara to do anything productive in the house.

  Will had done his best. He’d gathered what little food there was. He’d brought a couple of kitchen knives with them for self-defense, along with a metal baseball bat that he carried slung over his shoulder. They each wore small school backpacks that he had found. Most of the food that they carried were things like crackers and candies. A couple things like canned potatoes.

  The most important thing they had with them was water.

  Will knew they couldn’t last long without water. At a bare, bare minimum, they’d need a quart a day to avoid getting sick. To stay active, to keep their brains, muscles, and organs functioning well, they’d need more like two quarts. And that was still very, very low.

  In the afternoon, when the sun was higher, Will knew he could sweat out quite a bit, even in these springtime temperatures.

  “I don’t see how we’re going to last long outside the city,” said Will. “What about water? Shelter?”