The Zombie Plagues: The Story Of Billy and Beth

by Dell, George

  “Yeah, I do, if I hadn't had the machine pistol, I think we would've been in deep trouble. That Remington is nice, but... it just can't match that machine gun, no way, and I really think we'll need it before we get... Well, wherever it is we get to,” she finished lamely.

  With that they both got up and began to break camp. Together they loaded the Suburban. Billy drowned the small fire and they edged the truck through the trees and out of the camp site, to the accompaniment of the bird-talk and the chatter of the squirrels.

  When they reached the small park office, just before the main road, they stopped the truck and went into the rustic log building to search for a map. They had only hoped for a simple map of the region surrounding the state park, but were instead rewarded with a selection of state maps.

  “Kentucky?” Billy asked.

  Beth nodded. “Otherwise we'll need a boat.”

  Billy found the next large city, Sturgis, and was surprised by how far they had traveled during the night. When they were back in the truck, Billy checked the gas tanks. One was full, but the other was barely above a quarter. He switched to the full tank, and said, “We'll have to get gas soon, does the map show any small towns?” Beth studied the map before her as Billy drove slowly out of the park to the main road.

  She traced out a route on the map with one finger as she spoke. “Follow 1508, Billy. That should bring us to route 109. That runs right into Sturgis,” she paused briefly as she continued to trace the route. “Morganfield is north on 60. We should be able to get gas and ammunition there, If not in Sturgis.”

  “Well, it’s not a small route, but it is smaller,” he said, “and that's a help.”

  Route 109 was not clogged with stalled traffic they found, when they reached it a few minutes later. Less than an hour of driving took them into Sturgis, it was not as large as Morganfield, but, Billy reasoned, it should fill their needs.

  They had both decided that it would be unwise to split up for any purpose at all, and so when Billy eased the Suburban into a paved area in front of a sporting goods store, they locked the truck, and taking their weapons with them, headed in the direction of the store together. Billy had reasoned locking the truck up simply enough, if someone did try to get into it, they would have to break the glass, and hopefully they would hear that from inside the store. He would have liked to park closer, and not risk leaving the truck in the lot, or being so far away from it, but all of the spaces in the front of the store were full.

  As they left the truck and began to walk across the asphalt, Beth suddenly stopped short. When she did, Billy automatically raised his rifle.

  “What?” he asked in a near whisper.

  Instead of answering she pointed with the machine pistol, she had also raised, toward one of the vehicles in front of the store. Billy hadn't noticed when they had exited the truck, but the low rumble of the trucks idle suddenly came to him in the clear morning air. Stupid! I should have been paying attention. Before he could take the thought any further, a tall gray-haired older man stepped from the store, and, after seeing them frozen in position in the parking lot, quickly ducked back inside.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Billy and Beth

  April 19th

  The sight of the man broke the paralysis that had held them, and they both quickly took cover behind an old station wagon parked in the lot. Billy continued to mentally berate himself for not hearing the sound of the running truck when he had gotten out of the Suburban. Stupid-Stupid-Stupid! He thought as he dropped to the ground and tried to crawl under the old car.

  He couldn't get all the way under it, but he did get under it far enough to be able to look into the open doorway of the sporting goods store. What he could see of it was empty, but he could not see far enough into the gloom of the interior to see whether there was just the old man, or others waiting with him in the shadowy store.

  “Hey!” a young sounding male voice called from within the store. “Don't shoot, okay? We don't want any trouble with you.”

  The voice let Billy and Beth know that there were at least two people in the store, and a few seconds later, they could hear the soft weeping of a woman coming from the store as well.

  “We don't want trouble either,” Billy called.

  From under the car he could see a jeans-clad pair of legs separate from the shadows, and cautiously walk toward the open doorway. “What do you think, Beth,” Billy whispered, “you believe 'em?”

  “Only one way to find out,” she replied, as she backed out from under the car and stood slowly.

  A young man was standing framed in the doorway, a shotgun resting in his hands. He saw her rise from behind the car, quickly followed by Billy. His shotgun remained in his hands, but he did not turn it in their direction, instead he seemed to be purposely holding it away from them, and they could both see that he was frightened.

  Billy and Beth both kept their guns turned away, but still they were on guard, as Beth spoke into the silence that had descended on the parking lot.

  “Look, we really don't want any trouble either. We only stopped because we saw the truck running,” she lied. She thought it probably wouldn't be a good idea to let them know they had stopped for ammunition. “We haven't seen any... many,” she corrected herself, “people. We'll leave, if it’s what you want,” she finished.

  The young man’s grip on the shotgun seemed to loosen as she had spoken, and he seemed to be not as fearful as he had been.

  “We haven't seen any good people,” the young man said, “but we have seen a lot of bad ones.” He seemed to be asking them which group they belonged to.

  Beth and Billy both relaxed a small amount, and Billy spoke. “We've run into some bad ones ourselves,” he said. He considered for a moment, and then moved from behind the old station wagon, and out into the open. “Can we talk?” he asked. He was careful to keep the machine gun pointed down as he had moved from behind the car, and he forced himself to keep it pointed at the pavement as the young man seemed to consider what he had said.

  The young man had lifted his shotgun from the pavement as Billy had stepped from behind the old car, now he dropped it back toward the pavement, and answered. “Well, come on, I guess,” he replied. The older man they had seen initially and a young red haired woman stepped out of the shadowy interior as he finished speaking. They were both armed, but both kept their weapons pointed down at the pavement.

  Billy looked at Beth. “Well?” he asked. She nodded her head, and they walked slowly toward the front of the store. Once the two groups were facing each other, Beth spoke. “I'm Beth, and this is Billy,” she said, pointing at Billy.

  “Delbert,” the older man said, stepping forward, “and this is John,” he said pointing at the dark haired young man, “and Peggy.” He paused for a few seconds. “Might've over-reacted a bit, I guess, but we haven't seen nothin' but bad the last few days. Thought you might be some of a group we ran into yesterday... things is awful balled up, ain't they? It’s hard to tell who you can, or can't trust.” With that the man seemed to consider them briefly, and then set his rifle aside.

  The man’s fear, that had been so evident once Beth and Billy were standing face to face with him, seemed to melt away. Beth stuffed the machine pistol into her jeans, and Billy slung the rifle over his shoulder before he stuck out his hand. “Good to meet you,” Billy said, “I think we were beginning to think we wouldn't meet anyone at all who wouldn't try to kill us.” Beth stuck out her hand as Billy finished speaking, and the young man and woman put their own weapons aside and stepped away from the sidewalk and shook the offered hands.

  “You from here?” Delbert asked, as he also shook their hands.

  “L.A.,” Beth replied, “heading east, how about you?”

  “Texas,” Peggy, the young woman said, “You headin' east for the same reason we are?”

  “Kind'a feels like we're drawn in that direction,” Delbert said, “can't explain it a lot better than that I guess.”

  His
accent was slight, Billy noticed, not thick like some he had heard. “We feel the same way. Tried South... South is no good,” Billy said. He looked at Beth who nodded before he continued. “We could all make the trip together,” he offered, “It might be a lot safer that way?” Beth echoed the invitation.

  “See no reason not to,” Delbert said slowly, as he turned his eyes to the couple beside him. “Peggy, John?”

  “I'm for it,” John agreed. He had a slightly thicker accent, Beth noticed, well, maybe not an accent really, she told herself, he just talks somewhat slowly.

  “Me too,” Peggy said, and a smile lit up her face as she spoke. “No lie. I've been pretty scared, and it'll be good to have more of us, I think.”

  “I lied,” Beth said, and then hastily continued, “We didn't stop because we saw you. We stopped because we need ammunition. We got ambushed, sort of, and... Well, we got out of it. I didn't mean to lie, I just wasn't sure we could trust you, and I didn't think it would be a good idea to tell you we were running low, not knowing if... you know...” she finished lamely.

  “Don't give it a thought,” Delbert said, “can't say as I blame you. In fact,” he said reaching for his shotgun, and opening the breech. “We did too, but there isn't any here. I hoped to scare you off, but the truth is, we're out of ammunition ourselves. If you had been... well, bad, I guess we would've been screwed.” He finished by setting the empty shotgun against the door frame, resting butt down on the pavement.

  “You mean,” Billy said, “you're out completely?”

  “Oh yeah,” John said, “I've been out since yesterday, and whatever was in this shop is gone. Somebody cleaned it out.”

  Billy and Beth followed the others into the small shop. It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the sparse light inside, but once they did they could see that the shop had been ransacked. Two large glass display cases that had probably held, who knew how many handguns, Billy thought, were empty. The glass fronts had been shattered into the cases. Racks that had once been likewise protected by lockable glass sliding doors had also been broken into, the thick glass that had once protected them lay inside, but the rifles they had protected were gone. Nothing had been left. The floors were strewn with empty boxes, wads of packing paper, and literature on several types of guns that had been discarded. The glass from the cases was everywhere, Billy saw.

  “Looks as though they didn't leave anything at all,” Billy said.

  “Told you,” John said, as he shook his head. “Somebody got here before us, and it looks as though they weren't about to leave anything behind,” he sighed.

  “You have any ammo at all?” Beth asked.

  “I do,” Peggy answered, “I've got seven rounds for this 30.06, that's why... well, that's why I hung back when we saw you, you know. I could see you through the window, and... If I had too, I was going to shoot,” she seemed embarrassed as she spoke.

  “She's 'bout the best shot between the three of us,” Delbert said, “my eye's is going, and John just never learned to shoot.”

  John turned red, but nodded his head before he spoke. “Just never saw a real big need to learn,” he said, “course now I wish I had.”

  “Been anywhere else in town?” Billy asked, “Maybe there's another sporting goods store around.”

  “Didn't have the time,” Delbert said, “we got here only ten minutes or so before you did.”

  “Well,” Beth said, as she counted up what ammunition she had left for the machine pistol, “I've got one full clip of sixteen, and... Looks like two in this clip, and I'm done.”

  Billy had checked over what he had while she was speaking, “Looks like this one is down to ten in the clip, but I've got better than a hundred rounds for the Remington in the truck, that should help a little. We need to find a place to get our hands on more, especially for that machine pistol,” he gestured at Beth's weapon, “and this one,” he said holding up the machine gun they had taken from the kid who had tried to shoot Beth, “this is a...” he held the machine gun up so he could read the writing on the side, “Hey, Beth, this say's it'll take nine millimeter slugs like yours, let me see one,” he waited until she handed him one that she took out of the full clip, and then compared them side by side. “Yeah, same thing,” he said, “this doesn't have a brand name on it though, just says what sort of bullet it takes, everything else has been ground off, see,” he held the side of the machine gun up so that Beth could see it.

  “That's been converted,” she said, “and that's probably why they ground off the serial number, and most likely the model and make at the same time. That's been converted to full auto,” she finished.

  “Gee, does that mean it's illegal to carry?” he asked, “you're not going to arrest me or something are you.”

  “Ha-ha, mister funny man,” Beth said smiling. “It does explain something that has been bugging me though. When that guy popped up and let loose on me, I thought he was squeezing those rounds off pretty quick. You can buy that gun, or could, I should say, and you could even order the conversion kit, but if you got caught, big trouble. I've seen a few though...Just the same, and I'm glad that one fell into our hands, and not someone else's.”

  Billy turned the gun over in his hands; his appreciation for it was much greater than it had been. “So what is it?” he asked.

  “It's called a Sixteen Nine on the Street,” Beth said. “I don't know what it's really called,” Billy looked confused. “Sixteen for the clip,” she said, “and nine for the ammunition size. See?” she held up her own pistol, comparing the two side by side. “They're nearly identical, except for that long wire stock on yours. Makes it look more like a rifle. Mine's semi, that one's full.”

  “And we can swap back and forth on ammunition?” Billy asked.

  “Just on the ammunition,” Beth answered, “the clips won't fit.”

  “Well, with just sixteen bullets wouldn't it run out pretty quick?”

  “Not pretty quick, babe, damn quick, like immediately. I think the attraction was speed, sixteen bullets in less than half a second. You can get a larger clip that'll hold two hundred.”

  Billy turned his head back to the other three who had been listening to Beth talk. They all seemed impressed. “I guess,” he said looking around the destroyed shop, “we better get going. Is that truck of yours in pretty good shape Delbert?”

  “Junker,” Delbert said, “it was nice, when we left Dallas, but it's on its last leg for sure now. That's why I left it running; bitch-kitty won't start if you don't, and to be honest, I been too damn scared to stop and get another.”

  “Well,” Billy said, “leave it. We got room in ours for all three of you.”

  Beth was staring around at the wrecked interior of the shop, it wasn't the damage that bothered her though, it was all the missing rifles, and guns. “Yeah, let's get out of here,” she said, “this place gives me the creeps, and I for one don't want to be here in case whoever took all of this...” she gestured at the empty shop, “...returns.”

  Everyone, Billy included, looked apprehensively around the empty shop.

  “Yeah, let’s go,” Billy said hastily, as he turned and walked out the door.

  They all scouted carefully around the parking lot, as they walked to the Suburban. Anyone could be hiding in this lot, Billy thought, as he looked around at the packed parking lot, anyone, anywhere. They reached the truck, Billy unlocked it, and they all climbed quickly inside. Several sighs of relief were released once Billy started the Suburban, and drove from the lot.

  A half mile down the road, Delbert spotted another store and Billy cautiously pulled into the lot to have a look. He was able to drive up close to the shop, without getting out of the truck. The glass store front, including the doors, were barred by a segmented aluminum pull down door, and the store looked as though no one had as of yet been in it.

  “What do you think?” Billy asked of no one in particular.

  “Don't look as though it's been broke into yet,” John
replied, “gonna have to leave the truck to be sure,” he finished with an apprehensive shrug of his shoulders.

  Beth pulled the nearly spent clip from the machine pistol, and clicked home the full one. “Stay here, I'll go see,” she said, and she was out the passenger door before Billy could protest.

  Billy shut off the truck, and got out. No way, he thought as he jumped from the truck, no frigging way.

  Delbert looked from John to Peggy. “I don't know about you, but they got the guns, and I ain't keen on staying in here without one,” he said, as he opened one of the rear doors, and stepped out. He carried the empty shot gun with him as he went, and Peggy and John brought their guns out of the truck with them as well.

  Billy was staring through the segmented burglar door into the interior of the small shop, as Delbert walked up. “What's it looking like, Billy?” he asked.

  Beth was back on the sidewalk, the machine pistol in her hands, sweeping the parking lot with her eyes, Peggy and John beside her.

  “Looks like nobody got to it,” Billy said, “what do you think, Dell?”

  Delbert squinted into the shop. “Hard to tell, but I think you're right, Billy, it looks good to me. But this door is gonna keep us out, just like it's kept out ever one before us.”

  “Uh-uh,” Billy said, “not me it isn't.” He turned face and walked back to the Suburban.

  “Look out, Dell,” he said, as he started the truck, and cramped the wheel around to bring it up on the sidewalk. “Saw this on a cop show once, here goes...”

  Billy lined the truck up even with the front doors in back of the aluminum burglar door, backed up, and punched the gas pedal. The rear tires screeched briefly as the truck bumped up over the curb and hit the door. The truck passed through the aluminum door as if it were made of paper and barely tapped the inside glass doors before Billy locked up the brakes. The light tap on the doors was all it took to shatter the safety glass. Billy reversed the truck, and backed down off the sidewalk. He cramped the wheel once more, and shut off the truck, leaving it almost where it had been in the first place. He got out and looked over the front of the truck; there was not even a single scratch to show where the massive bumper had connected with the aluminum door and then the glass. He stood up from his examination of the bumper, and was surprised to see everyone staring at him.