Jo stopped because she had no family there. Her son was out west, lost somewhere in the middle of the country. She really had no idea if he was still even alive, but she hung onto the hope that he was. So, the people she had in the east were her family now.
“We have a lot of close friends out there,” Jo said. “People who have survived and fought alongside us.”
“You make it sound like a war,” Clara said.
“Sometimes it seems like that’s what is,” Jo said.
“You have to think that way,” Jones said, opening his eyes from a fake nap. “It is a war for the survival of humanity.”
“Do you think it is really all that?” Clara said.
“Yes, I do,” Jones said. “Unless you’re looking at the world through rose-colored glasses.”
Gertie broke in to diffuse the rising tension, “How about you, Del? Do you have anybody in the East?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do,” Del said. “My son is there. His name is Jim. He’s a good kid, and I’d do anything to see him again. So, that’s why I’m so eager to go east.”
“Please beg my pardon,” Clara said. “There’s an awful lot of territory to the east. How do you know where they are?”
Jo let out a breath and said, “We don’t know for certain, but before we split from them, we set up a tentative path for them to take. That said, there’s no telling what they ran into. They could have had to detour from that route.”
Gertie asked, “Do you know…” She paused, and it was clear that she was thinking through what she was going to say. “Have you heard from them at all?”
“I know you’re asking if they are still alive or not,” Jo said. “We don’t know, but we do have a lot of hope that they are. They are a wily group, much like us.” She put a slight smile on her face to sell it, or maybe because she wanted to believe it herself.
“Where would they go first?” Gertie asked.
“Jackson,” Jo said.
“Oh, how nice,” Gertie replied. “Our grandpa used to run a small grocery store there.” She said it as if the store still might be there and she might be able to step back in time to buy some penny candy.
Jo heard the reminiscence in her voice but decided not to burst the old woman’s bubble by the harsh reality of their present lives.
“We need to stop for a minute,” Donovan’s voice came over the walkie-talkie.
Jo picked up the walkie-talkie and pressed the talk button. “No. We need to get more room between us and them.” The tractor had slowed them to a crawl. There were moments when Jo felt as if she could run faster than the tractor and trailer.
Donovan came back an instant later. “We really need to stop. The people in the trailer are taking a beating. They need a break.”
Jo looked over to Del and asked, “What do you think?”
They were on a two-lane county road heading east. Even though they had been on the road for nearly an hour, it didn’t seem nearly far enough away from the dead heading their way like dark and menacing flood waters. She just couldn’t shake the image of the horde in her mind. She had experienced some terrifying moments in this fallen world, but the sheer numbers of the dead chasing them nearly staggered her.
Del responded, “That trailer is for moving equipment, not people. Every bump or hole in the road is going to feel like someone’s pounding on you with a jackhammer.”
Jo let out a long breath of air and said, “Okay, but we only stay for a short time.” She relayed this to Donovan and said they’d look for a suitable spot to pull the caravan over as soon as possible.
They both surveyed the road, looking for a place to turn off while the caravan crawled along the road. Their truck had the lead, with two ATV’s behind them, followed by the tractor and the trailer. Behind the trailer was the last ATV and Donovan and Mason, along with a couple more of his people in the Jeep acting as the caboose.
A long-abandoned gas station came up on the south side of the road. It had what looked like a broken down produce stand attached to it with a weather-worn billboard that displayed ‘Farm Fresh Tomatoes’ on it. Paint peels agitated by the westward breeze pulsated, making the sign look almost alive.
It took nearly two minutes for the caravan to come to a full-stop as an anxious Donovan mother-henned the tractor and trailer into place. It was easy to tell that he was just as nervous as Jo about their lack of progress, but these were his people, and he had just put his life on the line to save them. The tractor had barely stopped before the passengers of the trailer started jumping over the side. Most of them looked as if they had just gone through either an accident or some benign but punishing surgery. Their expressions were tight and drawn, and they walked with a wobble, mimicking the motion of riding in the trailer.
Donovan milled among them, hugging hard, patting backs, and listening attentively with great empathy. It was easy for Jo to see why they followed him. He had all the great qualities of a leader, strength, loyalty, and compassion.
She was outside the truck, leaning against the front fender. The passengers of the truck gradually disembarked, stretching as they did. They didn’t dare say anything for fear the trailer-people would hear, though.
Clara Benton asked, “Do you think there are facilities around here?”
Del said, “There could be some in the gas station, but who knows what they look like after all this time.”
Clara visibly shuddered and said, “Well, I’ll just have to make do. It’s not like I’ve never been camping, although it has been a while.” With that, she tottered off toward the gas station, with Gertie following behind her.
Clayton positioned himself to provide a watchful eye over the two older women, just in case they ran into any trouble.
“Jo, Del, can you come over?” Donovan shouted from among a group of his people.
Jo wondered what he wanted but knew the only way to find out was to go to Donovan. “Come on, Del,” she said.
Del looked at her and shrugged then they both started toward Donovan.
“I thought while we took a break, it might be a good time for you to meet the people you helped us pull out of that basement,” Donovan said, and for the first time since she had met him, he actually looked a little relaxed. Just a little.
He put out an arm to encompass his group and then singled out one of the women. “This is Casey. You met her in the basement.”
“Yeah, she brought some kids over to us before we hit the road,” Jo said.
“Thanks for taking them,” Casey said as she put out a hand for Jo to shake. “And thanks for helping to get us out of the basement.”
Jo took her hand and found her grip to be surprisingly strong. Del did too, and he might have even winced a little.
Jo wasn’t sure what to say but said, “We were glad to do it. We had to rescue our own people from that place. We know some of what you’re going through.” But she regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Everyone’s journey through hell was different. She couldn’t know what they went through, but she had an idea. “I know what you went through was bad. I’m just sorry we couldn’t have got you sooner.”
“We’re just glad to be out of there,” Casey said.
A voice came from out of the crowd, and Jo recognized it as the man called Troy. “What I want to know is, who is that?”
When Jo looked to Troy, she saw that he was pointing to where Clayton was standing near the front edge of the gas station.
Del caught on more quickly and said, “That is Clayton. He’s with us.”
Troy came back quickly with, “He looks like one of those soldiers.”
“He used to be with them, but he left them before you and your people were taken,” Jo said.
Clayton turned and saw that Troy was pointing directly at him. So, he decided to get to the source of the issue and started toward Jo and Del.
“How can you know that?” Troy asked Jo. “He looks a lot like one of them.”
“Are you saying we all look a
like?” Clayton asked, clearly catching the innuendo. “I mean, how racist is that?”
“No, no,” Troy said, “that’s not what I was saying. I said that you look like one of the soldiers that raided our compound.”
“There you go again,” Clayton said, “making gross generalizations about who I am. Even in the apocalypse, it never ends.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Troy said. “You’re twisting my words.”
“Why don’t you quit while you’re ahead?” Del asked.
“Troy, give it a rest,” Donovan said. “At least for now. We can sort this out later.”
Troy waved his hand at Donovan and barged back into the group, knocking people aside.
Del leaned in toward Clayton and asked, “What was up with that?”
“I just like messing with people,” Clayton replied. “Some people are just easier than others to piss off.”
Casey chimed in and said, “Don’t mind Troy. Every group’s got to have an asshole, and he’s ours.”
Donovan looked at Casey, lowered his chin, and gave her a low-level glower, but she seemed unfazed. He must have decided there were bigger issues at hand because he said, “We were in a hurry to get out of there, so I had no idea what our assets and liabilities were. I just did a quick assessment, and it seems that our liabilities outweigh our assets by a lot.”
“In our group, we have four rifles, six handguns, and a handful of ammo. I checked the gas levels in all our vehicles, and it’s not good. We might have enough to make it to the Ohio River, but that’s a stretch.”
Jo asked, “What about food and water?”
“I hope you’re kidding,” Casey asked. “The soldiers pretty much stripped that complex down to the bones. We were able to scrounge up a couple of cases of water, and someone found a box of MRE’s in a storage closet. If you want to know the truth, we were down in the basement all day, and they sure as shit didn’t feed us.”
“So, what’s the priority?” Del asked.
“It’s got to be gas first,” Donovan said. “We run out of gas and we’re walking. With how worn out our folks are, I’m not sure if we can stay ahead of the horde.”
“And when was the last time any of you slept?” Casey asked.
“Don’t ask,” Jo said.
“There’s got to be a place we can find at least a temporary refuge,” Casey said.
“There are some farms along the way coming up,” Del said. “We could check out a few of them.”
“We can’t do a lot of hunting for things,” Donovan said. “Not with what’s coming after us.”
“But we need gas plus some food and water at the least,” Casey said. “And you guys need some rest.”
“Rest will have to wait,” Donovan said. “Del, can you get us to these farms you talked about?”
“Jo, do you remember them when we were trying to find a way to distract the helicopters?” Del asked.
“Yeah, too bad we had to burn that one down,” Jo said. She was referring to a farm they burnt down to draw the helicopters away from chasing their friends.
“What?” Donovan asked.
Jo said, “That’s too long of a story to get into. It’s been a blur since then, but I guess we can find them. I know there are a few more of them up the way.”
“We’ll get everyone loaded up, and you lead the way,” Donovan said.
“Can’t they have some more time?” Casey asked.
“No, not really, but they can rest when we search the farms,” Donovan said.
There was a lot of groaning and complaining, but it took less than ten minutes to get everyone loaded back up, and their little wagon train continued heading east.
Chapter 5
Scrounging
They came across the first farm about thirty minutes later. Del pulled the truck off onto a road that was more dirt than gravel and headed back toward a two-story farmhouse painted white with black shutters. Behind it stood a large barn. Even further back was an expansive farm field, filled with weathered and broken stalks of corn and withered and brown soybean plants, never harvested and rotting.
Coming from the farm-life, Del could tell that this had been a well-kept and prosperous farm. At least before the world tipped over the edge and fell into the abyss.
There was a tall silo off to the side of the barn, and he could envision the day when it was stuffed to the brim with corn. Just thinking of it brought back memories of working his uncle's farm, cultivating on cool spring mornings, and running the harvester across the field in the fall, the smell of the dirt filling his nose. He knew many thought the farming life was for hayseeds and simpler folks, but he enjoyed the country life. It just fit him, until his uncle was forced to sell the farm when the market on corn collapsed.
It was the Army for Del then. That was far from the simple life. Sure, he only drove supply trucks across Iraq, but more than once, his convoy came under attack. It was then that he knew he really missed the farm.
He navigated the truck into the circular drive in front of the house with the caravan following. He brought the truck to a stop and shut off the engine.
“Who’s going inside?” Del asked.
Before Jo could answer, Del spotted Donovan in his side mirror, jumping out of the Jeep and surging toward the truck. Mason popped out on the other side of the Jeep and had to work to keep up.
“Here comes the captain,” Del asked.
Donovan appeared on the passenger side of the truck and said, “To save time, I think we should take two teams. One take the house and the other search the barn. I don’t want to spend any more time here than we have to, especially if this turns out to be a wild goose chase.”
“What do you think, Sergeant Jones?” Jo asked into the back seat.
“It sounds like a solid plan to me,” Jones said. “And please stop calling me Sergeant. That’s not who I am anymore.”
Jo said, “Clayton, Ryan, and I will take the house if that works for you?” Jo asked Donovan. He didn’t object. “Del knows about farms. He might find something of use out in the barn.”
Donovan said, “Ten minutes, let’s go.”
The teams broke up and Del, Donovan, and Mason headed for the barn, while Jo, Clayton, and Ryan started toward the house. They made it five steps when Madison said, “Hey, you’re not leaving me behind. I can handle myself.”
Jo stopped, turned back to the truck, and started to say something, but it was clear she changed her mind in an instant. “Come on, then.”
The barn team circled around the house. Del peeked in the windows and saw an orderly place. Obviously, looters hadn’t made it to the house yet. Maybe this would prove to be a house of bounty. It made him wish he had been on the house team as he felt his stomach rumble from the imagined piles of food they would find. He didn’t even know that he had almost slowed to a stop.
“Keep moving,” Donovan said. “We’ve got a job to do. They’ve got theirs.”
The barn was twenty yards off the back of the house. The area between the two buildings was mostly dirt, cut through with ruts from past vehicle traffic. When they made it to the barn doors, they discovered a heavy chain and a padlock holding them shut.
“Wonder what’s up with that?” Del asked.
He got an answer when the sound of a groan came from behind the barn doors and then a thud sounded against them.
“Shit,” Del said.
Mason asked, “Do you think there’s anything in there worth risking opening those doors?”
“The only way to find out is to open them,” Del said.
Jo tried the front door, but it was locked tight. It was made of solid dark wood with a window covering the top, and the lock on it looked formidable. Curtains covered the window blocking any view into the house.
“Who the hell locks the door in the zombie apocalypse?” Clayton asked.
“These people, I guess,” Jo replied.
Ryan asked, “Are we sure there’s no one inside?”
/> None of them had even considered this notion, and the realization that they could be entering a occupied house settled in as they all gripped their weapons a little tighter. They had gotten too used to walking around in a ghost world.
“Want to try a different door?” Jo asked the group.
“As Donovan said, we’re on the clock,” Clayton said as he reared back with his boot and snapped his foot forward. It connected with the door, and the wood cracked, but the door held. Jo pushed Ryan and Madison back away from the door just to be safe. Not to be deterred, Clayton drew back again and gave the door another kick. The door crashed open, exposing a staircase leading up to the second floor and a hallway that ran into the depths of the house.
The stale but sweet smell of decay wafted out and washed over them. Jo and Clayton’s face wrinkled, but Madison threw a hand to her face, pinching her nose shut. Ryan looked unfazed.
“That really stinks,” Madison said.
She had been around the undead, but it had been a while.
“Let’s go in pairs,” Jo said. “Clayton and I will go in first. We’ll cut to the right. You two follow and go to the left.”
“Where’d you learn how to clear a room like that?” Clayton asked.
“We had a great leader who had a lot of military experience,” Jo said. “He drilled us relentlessly.”
“Sounds like a great guy,” Clayton asked as he peered into the shadows in the house. “Where is he now?”
“He’s dead,” Jo responded, not meeting Clayton’s stare. “Let’s go.” She stepped inside and went to the left, ending up in a living room. Clayton followed her in and nearly ran into her as she came to an abrupt stop.
“Whoa!” Clayton said.
Laying on the floral patterned couch were two bodies, one covered in a sheet and another mostly concealed. A single arm stuck out from under the sheet, dangling off the side of the couch. A .38 caliber revolver laid on the floor, just out of reach of the partially decayed hand. The sheet was white with the exception of two dark but partially faded red stains that bloomed out from head height on the bodies.
The Deadland Chronicles (Book 2): The Undead Horde Page 3
