Setting out, they all began feeling that peculiar sensation that had become all too familiar over the last few years—sort of a sixth sense—not to mention that Austin was looking a little too concerned. He kept tilting his head up and slowly moving it left and right as he breathed. Sydney began to wonder where their next “animated friends” encounter was going to be. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
While they had been planning their next trip, they were being zeroed in on by a few Turners the next block over. Austin was the first to pick up on the smell. Then the wind turned, and they all knew that company was on the way.
Even after years of constant putrid odors, Sydney never really got used to the stench. Her gag reflex went on overdrive, and with so many Turners so close, her stomach began to heave. Being tall and red-haired does not a warrior make!
The foursome started to move rapidly down the street while readying their weapons. A hundred feet ahead, the first rancid Turner lurched around the corner. Christian homed in on it with his crossbow and hit his mark. As that one fell, three more came right behind it. Mason picked off the second one with a shot to the head as Christian and Austin hit their marks at the same time. The boys had long ago worked out their zoning. They picked their target based on their orientation to one another. Whoever was on the left would start firing on the left, the one on the right would pick off Turners to the right, and the one in the center would start taking out the Turners in the middle, with each boy on the end working his way toward the center. In the case of a mob of Turners, they just ran.
Focusing on what was in front of them, they didn’t notice a Turner coming up from behind. Austin caught a whiff, turned around and took care of it. As they passed by the Turners they had just stopped, Christian reached down and grabbed his arrows, wiping them hastily on the body’s jacket.
Filing past the now unanimated, they crossed over to the other side of the street, since it didn’t appear to be occupied. Hearing groaning, they looked over their shoulders to see more Turners heading their way. Picking up speed, they made for the highway, which they could see to the east. Once there, not only would they have lots of open space, but also the hotels and businesses along the frontage roads would provide shelter and possibly food. Within ten minutes they had gained enough distance to slow up their pace a bit. Turners could pick up on the scent of a human from a short distance, but beyond that their own putrid stench overwhelmed any other smells.
“I say we do some hunting pretty soon,” Austin said when he had caught his breath. “I’d like some fresh meat tonight, even if it’s squirrel or crow.” He may have been the first to say it, but now that there was some space and fresher air between them and the Turners, they were all thinking along the same lines.
10 Bittersweet Memories
The next day was miserable. An early dust storm limited their vision and ability to smell Turners. Sydney preferred summer to winter anytime, but summer did have its issues, the worst being the dust storms. Once the weather cleared, they continued along the interstate, heading for the military base while munching on leftover squirrel. Sydney made a mental note to pick up toothpicks at the next opportunity. Hair strands made good floss but using two hands wasn’t always convenient.
Moving along at a pretty fast gait, they’d covered almost ten miles by two o’clock—and there had been no unexpected socializing with reanimated bodies.
“Tell me about your families again,” Sydney asked the boys. She never tired of hearing their stories. Their mothers had been so different from hers. These young boys were remarkable, and Sydney knew a lot of that had to do with their early upbringing. Today, the boys were in a reminiscing mood and easily slipped into their pasts.
Mason began.
“My dad and my uncle—Christian and Austin’s dad—were really close. They were best friends, and our families always did things together. They loved firearms and the mechanics of weapons, so they taught us what they knew.
“They were always telling us that one day we would need to defend our family or our country, and it was important to learn what they were trying to teach us, so we listened and learned.
“We all liked doing the same things and spent all of our spare time camping, hunting, fishing, and at the shooting range. Our dads took us out to the wilderness a lot, and that’s where we learned to shoot, and Christian became an expert shot with his bow. That’s one of the reasons we’re such good shots. Our dads made sure we knew how to sight and take down something that was moving fast.”
Austin picked up the conversation. “Our moms were the best. My mom always threw the best birthday parties and said they had Disneyland themes. We never went there, but it sounded like a really great place.”
“One thing I really miss is surfing,” he went on. “My parents had a house just off the beach. We spent most of our summers there because my dad worked from home. Our Grammy and Papa would come out a lot when we were there. Dad and Papa would surf with us, and Grammy and Mom would watch us from the beach. Our grandparents turned one year after the great outbreak.” His sadness was palpable. “Grammy and Papa were the best. They always made sure we knew how much they loved us.” Sydney never had what they were describing, but she still felt their loss deeply.
Mason picked up the memories. “The one thing my dad and uncle always kept telling us was that we’re blood, and we always watch each other’s backs. We can and should depend on one another, no matter what,” he said. “Anyway, our dads saw what was coming down, and they got us all out of town and took us to the hunting cabin that we had near Flagstaff. It wasn’t big, but we had water, food, and a warm place to sleep.” Sydney could see the longing in his eyes as he talked.
Christian joined in the conversation, reliving the horrible chain of events that followed. “We were there about six months when one day Austin and Mason spotted a horde of Turners coming toward the fringes of the forest. As soon as they got the news, our parents packed and got us out of there. We could never have fought off that many.
“We wound up a week later in an abandoned sawmill. One night, when everyone was asleep, Turners found their way into the mill. Because of the sawdust on the floor, we never heard them coming at us. We thought we had all of the entrance points protected, but one of the Turners found an opening and others followed.”
“We should have heard them break in, but the wood in the walls was too soft to make any noise,” Mason added.
“And we were all so tired from hiking all day with our packs,” Austin said, almost apologetically.
“Anyway,” Christian continued, “by the time we woke up, they were on us. They went after the adults first, probably because they were bigger and easier to grab. While the grown-ups were slashing away at them, the three of us slipped out a low window, like we’d been told to do, and we ran westward till we were safe and waited. If our parents had survived, they would have come right after us. We’d been told that if they didn’t come within an hour, we would be on our own.”
“Running west was one of the other things they taught us,” Mason said. “That way, if we got separated, we would at least know which direction to walk so we could find each other.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
They were still about three days away from the military base when they found a supermarket that looked promising. The parking lot was scattered with cars and debris.
Edging through the obstacles, they carefully watched their appendages to make sure they weren’t within grabbing distance of an animated arm. Two Turners were blocking the entrance but were dispatched easily with Christian’s arrows without making too much noise. Sydney’s fire iron never let her down, and Mason used his Ka-Bar.
Coming up to the doors, they spread out in their usual formation, with Mason and Austin taking the lead. Sydney could never get used to walking into a place where there might be something waiting to jump her for her brains.
Inside the store, they heard the low groaning and gru
nting of Turners to the left. Slithering closer, they counted four of them trying to get into the glass dairy cases. Semi-dry slime was all over the glass, but the contents behind the glass were undisturbed. Since everything dairy was well beyond the mold stage, they quietly headed to the other side of the store.
Prepackaged foods such as tuna in a pouch and jerky were sparse, but the foursome managed to find a few items. There were still some bottles of water scattered around, and they picked those up as they found them. After grabbing what was available, the small group headed back toward the front entrance.
The back door would have been a better choice.
Coming around the last aisle, they were greeted by the four reanimated shoppers. It never ceased to amaze Sydney how stealthy Turners could be without even trying. One time they would show up three feet in front of you, and the next time you could hear them coming a block away. This, unfortunately, was one of the quiet times.
Comfortable in their teamwork, they automatically fell into their positions. Mason, as usual, took the first shot. Christian and Austin took out the others in order of appearance. Sydney, swinging her fire poker, was reminded how much more sanitary a gun would be and was more determined than ever to pick one up and learn how to use it. It would be nice to drop a Turner at a far enough distance to keep the gore off. Besides, it was getting harder to find clean clothes.
Mason did the honor of popping off the last one, and they made for the doors.
Just as they were stepping over the defeated foe at the front of the store and walking through the glass doors, another surprise rounded the corner.
11Jeremy
Taking care of the last Turner on his way out of the department store, Jeremy Soto grabbed his duffle bag and walked away. After being separated from his squad, he had pursued a path to his old base camp, where he was stationed last. The detour he had just made was for clean clothes and hygienic needs. Before entering the store, he had spotted a canal built alongside the retail complex, so with clean clothes in tow, he made his way down to the canal, which still had water running through it. He couldn’t stand the feel of the mucus and blood that was always a part of dealing with Turners. Hitting their heads was like bursting water balloons, except the muck that sprayed out was anything but pleasant.
Finding a spot with the utility ladder going into the water, he opened his duffle and pulled out a clean shirt, socks and pants. He laid them on the top of the embankment along with his weapons, which he placed within easy reach. The current was gentle, so he let go and swam around in the cool water and then scrubbed himself down with the soap he always carried. Before he climbed out of the water, he surveyed the surrounding area in case any Turners had followed him. All looked clear, so he pulled himself out. Using a dishtowel, he quickly dried himself off, dressed and headed out in the direction he had been traveling.
After an hour of walking he spotted a grocery store and decided to head over and see if there was anything left that was worth scavenging. That was when he heard the shots.
Gunshots were always a double-edged sword. On one hand, it meant humans were about, but on the other, they might be marauders, or worse yet, turning. Hearing the shots was a dead giveaway that the really living were about. But between the shot and the encounter anything could have taken place. Double-timing it to a strategic position, he stopped where he could be seen but not be an easy target.
Mason spotted the man first and got the others’ attention. The man was facing the glass doors with his rifle at the ready. He looked to be about twenty-five, over six feet tall, and muscular. His dark hair was clipped in a military cut (or maybe he was just trying to keep the lice at bay), and his handsome face was angular, with a couple days of beard growth. He was dressed in newer clothing, and Sydney couldn’t help but notice how clean his clothes were, thinking he obviously hadn’t had an encounter with any gore-flingers today.
“You’ve got the right color to your skin, and you’re still holding your weapons, so I’m thinking you all won that one,” the man said as a smile crossed his face. He walked slowly toward Sydney and the boys, and when they were sure he was alone, they walked toward him.
“I’m Jeremy Soto,” he said, smiling easily at them. It was obvious to him that it was just the four of them.
Dropping their guard just a bit, the boys and Sydney offered their names. After a few minutes of conversation, they discovered that they were all heading in the same direction.
Since Jeremy knew the way, they decided to hoof it together. The boys didn’t seem too concerned about Jeremy, which made Sydney lower her guard just a bit and agree to have him join them.
In no way was Sydney diminishing the capabilities of her three young musketeers, but she couldn’t help thinking that having a man around with obvious military bearing couldn’t be bad. She just hoped he had an honorable character to go with the look.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The small groups of Turners that they came across that afternoon were easily dispatched, as all but a handful were older and slower. For Sydney, the boys, and their new ally, the focus was getting food and not being it, so the biggest advantage to walking was that they could hunt at the same time. They had all agreed to leave Sydney’s bike behind to allow more maneuverability.
As dusk came, they found a suitable spot to hunker down for the night. Christian set up the perimeter alarms, impressing Jeremy as he was doing so, while Mason, Austin, and Sydney scouted the area and set up camp.
Sydney always carried fabric softener sheets, steel wool and a 9-volt battery. Rubbing the active end of the battery against the steel wool produced enough sparks to get a fire started. No matter how hungry they were, they found that rabbit and squirrel always tasted better when they’d been roasted a little. The softener sheets she used as a mosquito deterrent.
During the afternoon, the guys had speared a dozen squirrels. Now, with their work done and stomachs somewhat full, the conversation turned to Jeremy. Sydney had some questions she needed answers to if he was going to be their guide and fellow exterminator.
“Okay, Jeremy, I’m curious. Why are you all alone? Don’t soldiers usually travel in groups?” she asked, having pondered this all afternoon while they exchanged small talk.
“That’s a fair question,” he replied. “My family and I grew up in Arizona. I have, that is had, four sisters. We were a tight-knit family, involved in each other’s lives. I was the youngest, but I always tended to watch over all my sisters. I joined the Marines right out of high school because I loved being outdoors and looking for challenges. Then I was given the opportunity to go for indoctrination with Force Recon. When I completed the training, I became a part of the Special Forces community. Life was good. Then my family was wiped out within three months after the last mega outbreak. My greatest regret was not being there to protect them when they needed me most.”
His pain was tangible as he spoke.
“My squad was all I had left. Our platoon was being used to test different vaccines that hopefully would delay the transformation time. The labs at our base were also trying to isolate why some people transformed almost immediately while others seemed to have a significant delay.
“While we were out on a long-range patrol, taking out Turners and securing the perimeters, we ran into a bunch of freshly converted. Man, those things were lightning fast. Before we could take our shots, one broke through and got a taste of Meyers. We watched him close, but because he’d been vaccinated, nothing happened, and we double-timed it back to base. The doctors monitored him around the clock, but after a couple of days it was decided that the vaccinations were working, and he was okay to go back on patrol. The ranks were thinning, and they needed every available man out there.
“We were out on a longer patrol a few weeks later when Meyers just went berserk. He started shaking violently and spewing this junk out of his mouth. Before we knew what was happening, he had bitten, scratched, or clawed a piece out of all the other guys I was with. I was the far
thest from him, and I was able to get a clean shot with my handgun.
“Each of my brothers was shot as he started manifesting the signs. We’d all agreed to do that for one another, since we knew exactly what the transition phases looked like. In the end, I was the last one who could pull a trigger. Apparently, their vaccines weren’t retarding the virus the way Meyers’ had. Either that, or they didn’t have the genetic makeup he did, or whatever it was that had slowed his transition.
“When I radioed my CO to update him, I found out there had been a serious outbreak on the base and all able personnel were being airlifted out of there. All he could do was wish me the best. I knew there wasn’t anything to go back to, so I’ve been looking for survivors and doing what I could to help them out if they needed it.”
12Daily Business
At this point, you might be thinking that some people breezed through the apocalypse, popping the melons off Turners and then going about their usual business. Nearly everything people thought and did revolved around three things: water, food, and shelter. Cleanliness was fourth in line, but in Sydney’s mind it was every bit as important as the others.
When they scavenged, it wasn’t just for food and water. Not being able to bathe regularly presented some big problems. For one thing, a body ripe from not showering smelled quite different from a body stinking from decay, and Turners could pick up on the difference right away.
Keeping a supply of soap was high on the priority list, but Sydney also found that, in a pinch, the fabric softener sheets she kept on hand for mosquitoes could also remove a lot of stink. If you smelled like flowers, Turners didn’t think twice about it. They just thought you were part of the flora, unless you got too close.
Turners | Book 1 | The Beginning Page 3
