We had parked our truck around the back of the building’s parking lot and I was looking towards that direction when a sudden movement made me jump and shift my gaze further up the road.
A small figure had just dodged out from behind a tree and run to duck behind a stack of trash cans one house down from the store parking lot.
I thought I could hear whispering, though I couldn’t make any of it out. Then another figure, this one smaller than the first, came out from behind a different tree and joined the original figure behind the trashcans.
Another minute passed, and then two got up as one and headed towards the back parking lot. I was trying to get a better glimpse of them when a third figure rushed past the window just inches from us. I pulled back and tried to calm my rapid breathing.
River tensed next to me. Tracy was able to stifle Percy’s attempt at a bark though his growling was getting louder.
The figure was gone by the time I looked back through the window.
During my last scan of the front I tried to formulate a plan.
Whispering to Tracy what I had seen as well as my suggested plan I got up and started for the back door, ducking down in case there were still figures lurking in the front of the building. River followed at my heels.
After making it through the storeroom and to the back door I quietly unhooked the lock. I pressed my ear to the door, listening as closely as I could.
“Are there keys in it?” asked one voice in a whisper.
“I don’t think so, it’s locked,” replied another.
“Max, get over here! There’s stuff in the back,” came the first voice.
“What type of stuff?” This voice was the third and deepest of the three.
“Do you think the people are still around? We should take care of them first,” said a girl’s voice.
They must have been checking out our truck, and I didn’t want to risk anything getting snatched. We had a decent amount of gasoline canisters, palates of water, and canned food in the back. But from the tone of the whispers I had a hunch my initial impression had been right about their capabilities, and their ages.
I readied my (empty) pistol and tucked my crowbar back in to its strap.
With as much grace as one can shove open a massive steel lined door I did just that: in other words with as much grace as a T-rex trying to pick up its dinner with its hands. But I had my weapon up and looking threatening in a good amount of time, River bounding around me to survey the scene.
“Stop right there,” I said, confirming my suspicions as I took in our opponents.
There was a young boy and girl by the back of the truck, probably in their early teens. And the larger figure I had seen in front of the store was likely the boy in his late teens. He had a rifle strapped to his back and was standing towards the side of the store.
I pointed my gun at all of them to make sure they knew I had seen them all and slowly started walking their way.
“Ok, all of you, next to the kid with the rifle. You with the rifle, take it off slowly and place it on the ground,” I instructed them.
The kids looked scared and surprised, probably still too young to realize they weren’t the experts they thought they were at stealth.
“And keep your hands up,” I said last minute as I noticed the smaller boy reaching for his back pocket.
The two by the truck put their hands up and started walking towards the older boy while he set down his gun. He was still too young to have any stubble on his face, though the dirt and lack of showers added a shadow to his chin. The younger children looked like a pair of the Lost Boys from Neverland. The girl’s hair had been matted into something that wanted to become a dread. If she ever wanted a proper cleaning she’d have to shave all that hair off her head. And the younger boy was so filthy he would have needed a pressure washer to get that layer of grime off him. All of them had clothing caked in smut and full of holes.
“Thank you. My name is Diana. We just stumbled across this store. Is this where you are living?”
Slow nods followed.
“Are there any others with you?” I asked.
Rapid shaking of their heads followed.
“What are your names?”
The oldest boy spoke up. “I’m Max, and this is Anya and Danny,” he said as he nodded at the girl and boy respectively.
“How long have you been alone?” I was trying to get to know them and was hoping they would realize we meant no harm.
“About three weeks. Anya’s my sister. Our parents were killed by zombies in the town hall. Danny’s parents just never came home.”
“Do you know of any other survivors?”
More shaking of the heads.
This time the little girl spoke up. “We occasionally run in to survivors, people trying to raid our store. But they tend to leave us alone when they realize we’re just kids.”
“Is that what happened with the pile of bodies in your dumpster?” came a voice from behind the kids. They all turned around to look as I saw Tracy coming around the front end of the store. Percy at her side, his tail wagging. But Tracy’s expression was much less friendly, especially coming down the barrel of a shotgun.
“Tracy, what are you talking about? Put the gun down,” I recommended.
She looked at me, slightly wild eyed.
“Not gonna happen. I saw something suspicious in the dumpster on the other side of the building on my way here. Turns out there’s a pile of bodies full of bullet holes and head wounds up to the brim, mostly in the back. If these kids are the ones that have been living here they are probably the ones responsible,” she continued. She was not letting that gun down for a second.
“Well how about we ask them about it. Do you three know about those bodies? What happened?” I asked. But before they could answer Tracy interrupted.
“They’re responsible. This outbreak is bringing out everyone’s true colors. And these kids are murderers. We both heard them talking about our truck’s stash and how they should take care of us. They meant put us in the dumpster with the others,” her voice was rising, getting more frantic. “We could always put you in the dumpster with them bodies.”
“Tracy! That’s ridiculous. Plus look at Percy and River,” I said, nodding at both dogs. Both of them were wagging their tails and seemed calm. “They’re both chill, and they seem to be the best judge of characters we’ve had this whole trip.”
I was right. I did not feel threatened by the children. The little boy’s hands were trembling. I’m sure they had a reasonable explanation for the bodies, or none at all if it hadn’t been their handiwork.
“We can’t trust them, we can’t trust anyone! I can’t even trust you if you think letting your guard down with these killers is a good idea. I’d feel better putting a bullet in all their heads, but I know you won’t let me. So let’s compromise. Let’s get in the truck and leave now before they have a chance to try to stab us in the back,” she demanded.
“No,” I replied.
“Don’t think I won’t leave without you,” Tracy shouted.
Percy whined and was starting to walk nervously back and forth.
With these antics we were bound to attract some more unwanted visitors soon.
“Maybe we can help them. Besides, I have the keys to the truck. You can’t leave without me,” I reasoned.
“And I’m the only one with a loaded gun. We can let them keep their gun and their store, but we’re getting the hell out of here before they can shoot us in the back,” she said as she walked towards me, her gun still pointing at the children. She turned back to them before continuing.
“Don’t get any wise ideas either. I’ll be pointing my gun at you the whole time as we drive away. You really are lucky- PERCY, get back here!” she shouted. Percy had started walking slowly towards the children but stopped in response to Tracy’s fantod and came back to us.
When she reached me she continued in a more reasonable tone. “I’m sorry Di, but I can’t le
t your bleeding heart put us in another vulnerable situation.”
“Cause my bleeding heart is what almost got us raped before. Really Tracy? You’re going off your rocker. The only way we survive this is if we find people to work together with,” I said in a hissing whisper to her.
“That’s not what helped us at the school. You’re bleeding heart is why we lost the school in the first place. You’ll thank me later Di, the only way we survive this is staying together and not trusting anyone. These kids are lucky I don’t execute them for what they’ve done,” Tracy explained. I was shocked and saddened by this last outburst. Had she really felt I was responsible for what happened at the school?
I was still trying to heal my internal wounds when Tracy gave me her next order.
“Get in the truck. Let’s go. I’ll watch our backs. You’ll thank me later,” she said coldly as she pushed me towards the truck and turned to stare down the end of her gun barrel at the kids.
I did what she said, with her pointing the gun out the back window the whole time until we turned down a street and couldn’t see the kids anymore.
She finally turned back around to face forward, sighing with relief as she did so. River and Percy were in between us like usual, but the tension was palpable and both dogs were still on high alert.
“You know, you’ve really lost it Tracy,” I said to break the silence. It felt like I was growing bristles out of my back I was so rigid and tense. And it felt like Tracy was sending waves of heat my way from the seat she was in.
“I don’t care what you think. I did the right thing back there and saved our asses. There was a whole dumpster of murdered people on the side of that store. That’s gotta be why there was that large stain in the store. If those kids were living there they were responsible. They would have shot us and taken our truck full of supplies in a heart beat,” Tracy explained.
“You don’t know that. Those bodies could have been zombies!” I countered.
“I got a good look at them and it didn’t look that way. None of the bodies had the tell tale signs of having turned before being shot. There was a lot of blood staining that had to have been from gun shots before they turned.”
“Fine, let’s say they did kill people and not zombies. Well maybe they had a good reason to. I never would have thought we would be murderers, but look what happened to us last week! I still have a hard time with it, but I can certainly justify our actions,” I countered.
“You are the one that’s going to get us killed Di. You’re so fucking stupid! All you care about is your martyr complex and overprotective nature. You couldn’t save everyone as a vet, what the hell makes you think you can save everyone now? When are you going to realize that no one can be trusted!” Tracy yelled.
“Well at least one of us wants to save people,” I retorted. It wasn’t much of a come back, but I couldn’t just sit there and let Tracy berate me for wanting to do the right thing. What did she want from me? Did she want it to just be us and the dogs on our own the rest of our lives? Would she ever trust anyone again? And were there people out there we could trust? There had to be. It’s not like the apocalypse would happen and the world would only be full of selfish, back stabbing, violent rapists. Where could we find the good survivors?
I continued pondering how the rest of humanity was surviving when I realized the awkward silence in the truck had been going on for several minutes. Percy was starting to move over towards Tracy.
Glancing over I saw he was trying to lick away tears that were streaming down her face. I felt a brief tinge of guilt at being so harsh, but she had been acting way out of line.
“Tracy, I’m sorry for everything we’ve been through. I’m sorry for what happened at the house. But I really think we need to try to find other survivors. Not everyone is going to be a creep that rapes or kills us,” I said with as much compassion and reason as I could muster.
She just kept crying silently and petting Percy. River was sidling up next to her too.
“We can’t keep living like this, day to day, out of the truck. I haven’t had more than two hours of sleep in a row this entire week. My senses aren’t as sharp, and I feel fatigued all the time. We need to start staying in places other than the truck at night. And I think we need to come up with a game plan to try to locate other survivors,” I continued.
There was no response from Tracy, but it might just have been that she was too emotional to talk.
“Tracy, it’s going to be ok. Let’s try to find somewhere to sleep and tackle this with some hopefully refreshed minds in the morning.”
She nodded. I guess that was the most I could hope for.
I was surprised when she started talking again.
“When I was six years old, my uncle started sexually abusing me. I never told anyone, I never fought back, even though I knew it was wrong. I didn’t have anyone to go to. And it made me terrified of all older men,” she stated without emotion.
“I’m so sorry,” was all I could think to say.
She shook her head before continuing.
“Eventually he got caught, not for what he did to me, but what he did to others. He was an assistant at a local pre-school, and eventually a kid told on him. He had sexually abused dozens of little girls. He was put away behind bars. I was thirteen at the time and he had stopped abusing me. I was too old for his taste,” Tracy’s voice was starting to fill with some emotion again, her words full of disgust.
“But when I came forward and told my parents that he had abused me as well when I had been younger, they didn’t believe me. They told me I was just doing it for attention, to get recognized. They said I was jealous of the girls on the news and all the attention various people in my family were getting with what was happening to my uncle. They told me never to tell anyone my lie again. And I didn’t, until now. Only it wasn’t a lie. And I have spent the last decade and a half coming to terms with it, and taking back control of my life. Getting in to veterinary school, becoming a surgeon so that I could be in one of the most respected and self-sufficient doctors in our field. Becoming a pseudo-professional mountain climber on the side. Someone that didn’t need anyone to validate how important or accomplished I was by what happened to me, but by what I had done with my life.”
Tracy took a deep breath as she continuing petting River and Percy.
“I still know there are bad people in the world, and worse, people who deny there are bad people. I can control my life to the best of my ability, but I can’t control others. I can just prevent them from having any impact on my decisions. And I won’t let anyone else hurt me. It’s not worth it. I won’t let it happen,” her voice was taking on a new determination. I couldn’t see her face as I continued driving, so I pulled over to the side of the road and parked the truck.
Tracy turned and looked at me.
“Those kids. They were bad people. I know it. They have done bad things. There was something of my uncle in that older boy. I can’t explain why I know it, I just know it. You have to trust me. You can’t be one of those people who deny that there are bad people out there. Take it from someone who knows, first hand, all too well. There are terrible people out there, and they won’t hesitate to kill us, hurting us along the way,” Tracy said as she stared at me.
Even though I thought she was being a little overly dramatic, she was right. She had been through worse experiences at the hands of terrible people than most, and all I could think to do was reach over and hug her.
Part 7: Mother Nature
“But man is a part of nature, and his war against nature
is inevitably a war against himself.”
-Rachel Carson
Chapter 33
“Damnit!” Linda exclaimed as she railed on the horn again.
Her horn wasn’t the only one blaring: horns and shouts were going off all around them. They were stuck, just like every other car for miles just outside of Roseville, in bumper to bumper traffic.
Greg shook his head. They
had been on the road for over five hours and due to traffic only made it just about eighty miles. It made the usual morning traffic update with Joe McConnell look like a cakewalk. It seemed everyone in the overpopulated state of California had the same idea: that it was best to head for the country.
“Put on the lights. We have that right. You don’t even have to think of it as abusing your privileges considering we are trying to get somewhere to help stop this infection,” Jason suggested.
“It won’t do much good. The roads are clogged. Even all the shoulders are full of cars,” Greg pointed out.
Linda groaned as she shifted the car in to park for what seemed like the tenth time.
“Greg’s right. We’d just be stuck all the same, only with the blaring sirens driving us out of our mind,” Linda huffed.
Judy was in the front passenger seat of the car still analyzing what she could of the organism. She was able to get intermittent WiFi and was using it to her advantage. While the three others stared out the window of the car in frustration, Judy kept at it on Pubmed, tracking all the research she could about treatments for the various organisms she knew had parts in this new chimera.
She was also trying to find information on the section of the genetic code that was not accounted for in the preliminary designs the researchers had put together, but that would probably have to wait until she got to Boston to figure out.
The current article she had up was on the different antibiotics used to treat Toxoplasmosis, specifically clindamycin use in cats suffering from meningitis as a result of the protozoa. Clicking on the link for a related article on the transmission of the protozoa resulted in the hourglass icon popping up on the screen. Only this time it kept going and going.
Trying another link also failed.
The computer looked like it was getting a good wireless signal but all the practical evidence was telling her differently.
After another couple minutes of failed attempts to open various links Judy closed the computer with a sigh.
“Did you find something Judy?” her brother asked from the back seat.
Eves of the Outbreak Page 17
