by Glass, J. B.
She reached over and turned the radio on. It hadn't even occurred to her to check and see if there was anything useful on the air, the world seemed to have gone so completely and utterly to hell so fast.
Static. She hit the SEEK button. Static. Static. Static.
And then: "-- Skip Cooperson in the WAVE-3 News Copter still on the air, sending down traffic reports to anyone who might be in a position to benefit from them. I'm still seeing some vehicles on the roads obviously under human, not rabid raider, control... all right. Repeating what I'm seeing from about a thousand feet above Preston Highway near the Outer Loop intersection -- Preston is mostly clear. By mostly clear I mean, there are no wrecks that a reasonably skilled driver couldn't weave around, although you may have to use sidewalks or parking lots. But the back roads I've seen are all but impassible with stalled cars and wrecks. Stick to main roads as much as possible.
"Here is a very important bulletin: there's a Thornton's gas station on fire just beyond Outer Loop heading back towards downtown, and the rabid raiders are avoiding it like the plague. I mean, they are giving that fire a WIDE berth. It may be that for whatever reason these things are afraid of fire. Berserkers, rabid raiders, zombies, ghouls, cannibals... whatever you want to call these things, they do not seem to like fire. So there's that, for what it's worth."
It was good enough for Sheila. The three car pile up was also smoking and, indeed, there were no 'rabid raiders' for a hundred yards in any direction. She went around it in the far right lane and kept on going down Preston.
As she was urging the van along next to the wreckage, she remembered the odd thumping sound she'd heard. She glanced at the passenger seat -- nothing other than her purse. But... shouldn't there have been something?
She braked and put the van in neutral for a second, and leaned way over to look at the floor.
Jerry's gun was on the floor. It must have been jounced off the seat when she went over those curbs.
For a crazy moment, she was tempted to pick it up, power down a window, and throw it out. It hadn't saved Jerry. It hadn't hurt the zombies at all.
But... zombies might not be the only thing to fear in this brave new world she found herself in.
She reached down and snagged the gun, and put it in her purse, which she then shoved into the built in space between the seats meant for storing loose odds and ends like that.
Then she put the van back into gear and got on with it.
By the time she was coming out from under the Watterson overpass the zombies were in the road again. She went around them when she could, knocked them out of the way when she couldn't. She maintained a steady 35 to 45 miles per hour, swerving around stalled and wrecked vehicles when necessary.
Now from the radio came: "Galaxy vehicle on Preston heading towards Manslick Road. I see you. If you want to call me on the WAVE 3 news tip line at 888-434-6612 and give me an idea of your destination, I can try to give you a report on road conditions. Or reach me on CB channel 7. I repeat, Galaxy vehicle on Preston..."
Sheila already had one hand grabbing for the CB radio mike. She didn't really know how to operate one but it seemed simple; the radio came on in a blast of static when she took the mike off the hook, and there was a tuning dial with a digital read out window next to it. The number that came up was 5, she dialed it to 7 and yelled into the microphone "Traffic copter, this is the driver on Preston, do you read me?" She paused, then added "Over" and let go of the transmit key.
Immediately: "I've got you five by five, Galaxy van. Where you heading?"
"Douglass Boulevard, the Highlands," Sheila sent back tersely. "Planning on going down Outer Loop to Old Shep to Bardstown. How's that looking?"
"Negative on Old Shep," the helicopter answered immediately. "Negative on Old Shep, berserker swarms all over it and it is impassable to traffic at several intersections. Take Outer Loop to Jefferson, go down Jefferson to Poplar Level..."
Sheila nodded as the pilot detailed a roundabout alternate route that was, at the moment, still clear.
"How much fuel you got up there, friend?" she asked, after he finished.
"The name is Skip, believe it or not," the pilot's voice responded. "Enough fuel for another forty five minutes of this. I was carrying a cameraman named Jimmy Jones and a reporter named Amy Morgan down to Bullitt County for a stand up at the new cancer center there when all this shit started to kick off... they didn't make it back to the copter and I had to take it up or get overrun. Not sure where to refuel... downtown is a crazy house and so is the airport."
Sheila recognized the name 'Amy Morgan'; a pretty young blonde reporter she'd been seeing more and more of lately on the WAVE 3 newscasts, doing reports from the field. So this was in Bullitt County, too.
"Well, Skip, this is Sheila and I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance." Sheila thought for a second. "Try Bowman Field," she said, finally, referring to a small airfield on Taylorsville Road, near where she lived.
"Maybe," came the reply. "Listen, you're one of very few vehicles I'm seeing moving on the roads right now and the only one I'm in direct contact with. I'm going to stay over you while you head for the Highlands. That will let me see the situation at Bowman Field, too."
"Works for me," Sheila said.
She turned right on to Outer Loop and went down it as fast as she could. She'd already learned that moving vehicles quickly picked up comet tails of running, screaming zombies and you had to keep ahead of them or they'd swarm you.
Fortunately, the only good news she'd had today as regards the hordes of flesh eating undead -- they seemed to have short attention spans. If she managed to break eye contact with them for a couple of seconds, they'd stop chasing her.
Still, she had a pack of maybe fifteen running down Outer Loop after her when she spotted another crowd of them to the right side of Outer Loop, in a Walgreen's parking lot, shrieking and pounding on a red Nissan.
And just inside the glass doors of the Walgreens, she could clearly see what looked like a young black woman and two very young black kids. They were watching in horror as the screaming group of zombies smashed all the glass out of the car windows and then dragged a black man out from behind the wheel...
Jerry's voice immediately came up in her mind, reminding her that she needed to 'tough up' and make 'hard decisions'.
"Fuck it," she snarled to herself, yanking the wheel over to the right hard.
The van rocketed into the parking lot and bumped up onto the sidewalk right outside the Walgreens front door. She slammed it to a shuddering stop and shoved open the passenger door, hoping to God the woman and her kids could be quick. "GET IN" she screamed, or started to, but by the time she got to "IN", the woman had already shoved open the Walgreens' front door and was throwing her first child -- a girl, maybe three -- up onto the passenger seat, then grabbing the second one and hurling herself inside with the little boy in her arms.
Sheila hit the gas pedal and they spun off, barely a half second ahead of the shrieking horde of zombies running up behind them. The passenger side door slammed closed as the newest passenger yanked her feet inside.
Sheila ran down three zombies getting back onto Outer Loop, crunch THUD crunch crunch THUD thud.
The radio crackled: "That was a terrific thing you did, Sheila," the traffic pilot said. "Not seeing a whole lot of people doing things like that today."
"Just keep the traffic reports coming, Skip," Sheila sent back. She wasn't sure if it was a terrific thing she'd done. What the hell was she going to do with these people? Two young kids? Jesus. Dan was going to kill her.
"That's a big ten four, good buddy," Skip's laconic voice returned.
The two kids were both screaming for daddy, of course, while their mother tried to quiet them down. Sheila figured the poor woman didn't need anyone yelling at her, and anyway, none of them were getting in her way or jumping around on the passenger side of the van too much, so let 'em scream. It wasn't exactly an unreasonable response to the events of
the day; actually, Sheila would have loved to pull the van over to the side of the road and screamed for ten or twenty minutes herself.
"Thank you thank you oh god THANK you," the mom finally said. "Oh god oh GOD those THINGS...."
Sheila abruptly slammed the van into a hard left turn, into the common parking lot that ran along the left side of Outer Loop Road in front of a long line of stores -- Kroger's, TJ Maxx, PetSmart, a bunch of others. The parking lots looked like they might be easier to navigate than Outer Loop, and there were cars and other objects she could weave around to try and confuse her pack of pursuers.
"Hang on," Sheila snarled, weaving between a parked van with a Top City Dry Cleaning logo on it and a heavy duty dumpster that took up eight spaces in the lot just in front of the Kroger's.
She had thought, maybe, it might make sense to stop at the Kroger's and load the van up with supplies -- canned goods, bottled water -- whatever was handy. But as she swerved around the dumpster she saw that the Kroger's had already fallen to the zombie hordes. Most of the glass windows in the front were smashed and the crowds milling about inside the store were clearly not living people. The sound of the van's engine brought all the heads within snapping around to stare out avidly at her. She hit the gas and gunned the van down the accessway running in front of the stores. Everything here was done, gone...
The kids were now crying quietly. Sheila didn't take her eyes off the roadway in front of them, but she said "I'm sorry about your husband."
The woman shook her head. "Not my husband, my brother. These are his kids, my niece and nephew. I took them shopping on the bus today so he could do some work at home. Then all this happened and I called him to come get us, and..."
Sheila was weaving around several cars that had apparently been abandoned by their owners right in front of the PetSmart. "Don't think about it," she said. "This isn't going to get any better. You need to keep your shit together."
And what the hell are you going to do with these people, Sheila? once more echoed in her mind.
The sight of a cell phone tower off to the right, over by the Steak n' Shake reminded her of something. She pulled out her cell phone and hit MAIN MAN again.
This time it rang once, and then, a whisper: "Hello?"
In the background, she could hear Vicki, also whispering: "Is that mommy?"
vi.
Vivian hugged the kids to her and stared at this strange white lady who had, out of nowhere, come swerving and screeching across that Walgreen's parking lot to save them.
She was wondering if she'd made a big mistake. Not that she had anything against this woman on short acquaintance, but now that she had a chance to think on it some, that Walgreens might have been a pretty good place to take shelter from whatever was goin' on outside. Only one set of doors in front. Solid construction. Plenty of food and other supplies inside.
She hadn't really thought about that. By the time this lady had come roaring up with this big old van, all Vivian had been able to think of was how was she gonna get the kids home again? And who was gonna take care of her nana if she was trapped out here? With Jerome dead and Derrick probably off in jail somewhere, she was the only grandchild nana had who could help her. She HAD to get home. So when the truck had pulled up, she'd reacted without thinking, and gotten her and the kids inside.
But now, where were they even going?
The lady driving the van was talking on the CB to someone in a helicopter overheard. Whoever she was, she seemed to have some shit together, anyway. But that Walgreen's... there hadn't been anyone else in there except Mr. Johnson, the nice old man who had been in charge of the register... and he'd been kinda anxious to close up and try and get home himself. All the other store help and shoppers had gotten out when things started getting really bad outside an hour or so before. All those terrible news reports on the TVs about gang violence and riots. After half an hour of that, it had just been her and Mr. Johnson and the babies. And she felt bad about Mr. Johnson with his bald head covered with dark age spots. He'd been in back lookin' at something... the generator, or somethin', he'd said... when this van had pulled up and she'd just hustled her and the kids inside.
But how was that nice ol' man gonna get home now?
Well, most of those things that had been outside the Walgreen's... maybe all of them... had chased the van up the road, so maybe Mr. Johnson would get lucky and could get out to his own car in relative peace and quiet.
Maybe that was another reason Jesus had sent this van to get her and the babies. He moved in mysterious ways.
If not, Mr. Johnson had a pretty good place to hole up.
Now the white lady was talking on her cell phone, which was pretty dangerous when you were driving if you didn't have a Blu Tooth but she was doing it anyway. Sounded like she was talking to her husband or boyfriend... her baby daddy, anyway, since she was asking about a child.
And now she was saying "Listen, honey, I'm going to get home as fast as I can but that might be an hour or so with how the roads are. But these things are afraid of fire. Or they seem to be. That's the report I've got."
Afraid of fire? Really? Well, that was interesting. Hadn't seen that on the TV.
Vivian stopped to ponder on that. Her daddy had driven a van very similar to this for the phone company when she was a girl. He'd done a lot of repairs to outside lines, and one of the things he'd had in his van...
"Okay, babies, let Aunt Vivvie up for a second," she whispered to Jameel and Shymala. She had told her brother not to give his kids no trashy ghetto 'we hate white people' names like that, but that woman of his, you couldn't talk any damn sense to her...
The thought of her older brother, who had never missed a Sunday at church and who had gotten a good job working for KFC-Yum as some kinda marketing executive, made her want to tear up and start crying again -- what an awful,awful way to die! -- but she couldn't do that right now. She had to stay strong for the babies.
Now they were grabbing on her, not wanting her to get up, and it was hard enough turning around in this truck cab. She firmly set them both down on the floor. "Now you set," she said. "I gotta see if we got something to fight the monsters with."
That hushed them up.
Now the white lady was looking at her like she was crazy. Vivian just held up a hand to her. "Hold on, now," she said, turned around and rummaging in the back of the van. "My daddy drove a van like this for Bellsouth. And he had..."
She found what she was looking for, got two of them in her hands, turned around triumphantly. "These!"
Sheila stared. After a second, she said "Wow. That's awesome." She made an O sign with her thumb and forefinger, around the cell phone in her hand.
Into her phone, she said, "Babe, I don't think we can fort up for long in the upstairs. Yes. Yes. I know. No. No. Honey, I'm sure you can. But I've got another girl here and two small kids and they're not going to be quiet... plus, how long is our food gonna last?"
"Yes, I have a plan! Kind of. Instead of us coming inside, you bring Vicki out. Bring a box of those cans and that flat of water if you want. We'll all pile into the van and go hole up at Kroger's."
Vivian started waving at her frantically. The lady looked at her, then said "Look, I'll call you again when we get closer. But we've got a plan going here. Yes. Yes. I love you. And... oh, hi, sugar! No, you be very quiet for daddy, and I'll be home soon. I love you! Mwah!"
The lady dropped the cell phone into one of the cupholders. "That's a great idea," she said, eyes on the road ahead of her but obviously talking to Vivian. "Thanks. I'm Sheila Noyce."
Vivian nodded. "I'm Vivian Rhodes. This is Jameel and Shymala. Pleased to meet you, Miss Sheila."
Sheila made a kind of tired grimace that might have been intended to be a smile. "Just Sheila, please. I'm married, anyway." She looked over at the three of them. "Hi, kids. Sucky morning, huh? I'm gonna do my best to get us someplace safe."
Vivian could very nearly hear the thought that followed: If there's an
y place safe to get to.
Vivian said, "Yes, ma'am. And we do thank you, ma'am, we absolutely do. I heard you say something about hiding out at Kroger's."
Sheila nodded. "Plenty of supplies there."
Vivian nodded. "Yes, ma'am. But lots of doors and ground floor windows, too. And probably lots of people already inside. And I'd think a pretty good chance that some of those things already got in, too. Like at the one we just drove past." She paused, and then went on, "Plus, a lot of perishables... big produce department, dairy, meat... and alla that is going to go bad real fast when the power goes out."
Sheila gave her a look. "That's... smart. Damn it. Okay, then... the thing is, my daughter's sick. We have medicine at home, but before all this started happening, I was thinking that, if she doesn't get better by Wednesday, I'd want to take her to a doctor. Maybe she needs a z-pack or something. Kroger's has a pharmacy."
Vivian nodded again. "Oh, yes, I understand. I'd want to have some medicine around too, for the babies. But... you got a Walgreen's in your neighborhood, Sheila? Because that Walgreen's we were just in... that only had one set of doors goin' in. Not too many perishables. And everybody in it had left by the time you came, except old Mr. Johnson. So I'm thinking..."
Now Sheila nodded. "No, you're right. That's a much better plan than mine. And people would go to a Kroger's first. They might not go to a Walgreen's..."
Vivian said "There's just one thing, ma'a -- Sheila, I mean. I... I got to take care of these babies. My brother would want me to, and lord knows that baby mama of his is no good. But I got my nana at home too and nobody's taking care of her right now if Jerome came to get me." She shook her head. "I mean, I got another brother Derrick but he's just 17 and no good anyway. He probably in jail or the back of a police car right now. Can't count on him a little bit."
Sheila just stared off into space for a second... and then slowly, shook her head. She muttered something to herself; to Vivian, it sounded like "you've got to touch up, She-Ra'.
