“I’m telling you they have a bunch of food in here.” A woman’s voice, one that she recognized. It was Mark’s neighbor.
“Shhhh,” someone else responded.
She ducked down and crawled out of the bedroom, hidden from view of the back door by the computer desk that occupied part of the kitchen. She heard someone trying to force the back door. No time to be subtle here Jay. She went from her knees to a squat by pulling her legs up underneath her. She sprang up and saw the figures on the other side of the door’s window. They were so busy trying to break in that neither of them noticed her standing five feet from them. She shot the man, which knocked the woman back down the stairs as he fell into her.
Jay stepped forward, her weapon pointed at the man, the red dot squarely on center mass. “Don’t talk, just shoot,” Ryan said in her head. Just as she started to apply pressure to the trigger, the man suddenly scrambled face-first down the stairs. For some reason she didn’t shoot. She watched as he stood at the bottom of the stairs, then staggered into the night, the woman nowhere in sight. After a moment, she reached over and flipped on the back porch light. The man was definitely wounded; a trail of blood led from the doorway, across the porch, down the stairs, and out to the hedge beyond. Should I follow them or just let them go? Now that they know I’m here and armed, they’ll probably give up the idea of coming back. I hope.
She heard a scream. It sounded like a man, but she was unable to tell for sure. Then a shriek followed that turned her heart cold. The shot must have alerted the crazies. She killed the porch light. Moving the trash can out of the way, she went to the backside of the computer desk and pushed. It was heavy and took all of her strength, but she was able to get it wedged up against the door. The sound of a car spinning its tires on the street below the property signaled her that at least one of the two had escaped. She looked at the clock on the microwave; it was 3:40 a.m.
Jay went and got the AR15 and sat in Ryan’s recliner with the rifle across her lap. She sat there like that until dawn broke, not sure how long that was. It seemed like hours. She heard a shriek occasionally, and even the echo of gunshots, but both seemed to be some distance away.
With the gray of first light, she went into the kitchen. The microwave’s clock was now dark. Okay, no power. She lit the gas stove with a match, boiled some water, and threw in a handful of coffee. Her Cherokee grandmother used to make it this way. She allowed it to steep for a few minutes, then strained it into a thermos. Her grandmother never strained it, she just threw some cold water into the pot, which settled the grounds. She smiled at the memory and sat and drank a cup before cleaning out the fridge. With the power out, she didn’t want to return home to a bunch of spoiled food. She emptied out everything from both the refrigerator and the freezer and bagged it. As she carried the bags down the hill to the burn pile, she rounded the corner of the house and came upon the body of the misbegotten burglar. There wasn’t much left. Blood and bones occupied the mangled clothes. The devastation was hard to fathom. The crazies were nothing if not thorough. She tossed the bags onto the burn pile, then went back up the hill to the house.
She had saved out four eggs and some bacon, which she cooked on the stove. There was a good pound of bacon. She fried it all and made some BLTs, sans L and T, to take with her. After finishing her breakfast, she looked around the house. She pulled a few photos out of an album to take with her, some of each of the kids and a few of her and Ryan. She loaded the bike and rearranged the Gucci bag of ammo to work with the bug-out bag. This made a good backrest once she’d strapped the AR15 to the sissy bar. She locked the house and sighed. She daydreamed of coming back to find Ryan, Mark, and Patty with their dogs waiting on the porch.
The fingerless gloves gave her good dexterity, but the early-morning ride quickly left her wishing she had brought her winter gloves. She rode with her left hand stuffed in the side pocket of her leather jacket, only pulling it out if she had to maneuver around something in the road. Normally, the trip to South Carolina took about eight hours. She had no idea how long this trip would take.
She didn’t see any of the crazies out this morning. Thinking on it, she was becoming suspicious that they might be strictly nocturnal. She kept her eyes open, scanning far ahead for any possible problems. The lack of information from any source made her hope to run across someone who might be able to enlighten her. Be careful what you wish for, she thought. The road began to climb as she entered the Appalachian mountain range. The highest point in the range was sixty-seven hundred feet, so at this time of year she wasn’t worried about running into any weather of consequence.
The mountains in front of her seemed to open their arms to welcome her. The air temperature dropped several degrees every time she rode into a hollow, then rose again as she climbed ever higher. The miles rolled underneath the Harley’s tires, and she felt the momentary thrill of being on the bike as it vibrated between her legs. She opened the throttle and gave the beast its head.
She rounded a long curve and the elation disappeared as the first of two tunnels she would have to negotiate came into view.
It wasn’t that she had forgotten about the East River Tunnel, it just hadn’t crossed her mind. When they went to the beach on summer vacation, the kids used to try to hold their breath the entire length of the tunnel. Ryan would sometimes slow down just to mess with them, or speed up if he was feeling charitable. The first time Auddy successfully made it all the way through, he’d been doing about eighty.
She slowed as she approached the gaping black maw of the tunnel’s mouth. The lights were not on and she could only see about a hundred feet into the mountain. She sat astride the Harley, peering into the darkness and trying to see the other end. The tunnel was more than a mile long and changed elevation. “So, no light at the end of this tunnel!” she said aloud. Then she sat there thinking. I could go down Route 52, but it would add at least a couple of hours to the trip. Oh, quit being a pussy! She put the bike in gear and slowly entered the man-made cave.
The beam of the Harley’s light didn’t capture any glowing eyes staring at her from the blackness. Why don’t people’s eyes reflect light like an animal’s? she wondered. The reverberation of the engine growled at her loudly, blocking out any other noise there might be. The temperature dropped, but she could feel the sweat run down her back under the leather jacket. She tensed when the headlight picked up a red reflection ahead. It was a vehicle in the slow lane.
Jay’s head began to buzz; she was having trouble catching her breath. The darkness was so utterly black that without the headlight it would be absolute. Get ahold of yourself girl. Panic is your worst enemy right now. The voice in her head helped, but she still felt the crazies reaching out, grasping at her from behind. She shook her head and sped up, trying to outrun the feeling.
As she got closer, she could see that the vehicle’s door was open. She steered as far left as she could without catching the handlebars on the side of the tunnel. She was doing about twenty miles an hour when she passed the car. She focused on it, waiting for something to jump out at her. Her attention stayed on the abandoned vehicle for an instant too long; she looked back to the road in time to see a body lying in her lane. She didn’t have time to react, which probably saved her from dumping the bike. The Harley lurched and bucked as she ran over the body’s outstretched legs, but the bike stayed upright. More taillights reflected ahead of her, now in both lanes. Her brain screamed at her to turn around and get the hell out of this nightmare, but she figured she was close to halfway through at this point. She fought back the mounting instinctual urge to flee coursing through her body. Slowing even more now, maintaining just enough momentum to keep the bike from tipping over, she concentrated on what was ahead of her.
She wove in and out of the vehicles, afraid that now she wouldn’t have room to turn the bike around even if she wanted to. She came to the reason for the traffic jam. An overturned car sat in the middle of the tunnel, a mangled pickup truck mashed between it
and the far right wall. The smell hit her just as the wreck came into view. Her stomach rolled, and she tasted the burn at the back of her throat as her breakfast threatened to come up. She came to a stop and put her feet down, standing up to see if there was a way through this mess. She turned the front end of the bike back and forth, panning its headlight across the scene. A headless body hung upside down in the car, its arms hanging down to the roof. It looked like it was riding a roller coaster. Jay killed the engine but left the key in the auxiliary position to provide light. She was going to have to take a closer look on foot. This in no way pleased her, but it had to be done.
She unholstered the Glock and turned on the tactical flashlight. Moving toward the overturned car, she saw that there were more wrecked vehicles fifty feet past it. As soon as her light reached that far, she heard the shriek. It was definitely coming from the other side of the far wreck. She scanned the entire area. A semitruck and multiple other vehicles had the tunnel completely blocked. Movement caught her eye and she pointed the Glock toward it. On the extreme right-hand side next to the wall was one of the crazies, struggling to get through the wreckage. Its body, about halfway through, wiggled and squirmed in the thing’s attempt to break loose. Jay turned and ran.
When she reached the Harley, she knew there was no way she would get it turned around where it was. She would have to drive past the overturned car to where there was enough room to make it work. That meant driving toward the crazies. It was as if a switch flipped in her head. Gone was the overwhelming fear. Not being able to flee did not cause her to freeze. Instead, it fueled her desire to fight. Fight these freaks of nature that threatened everything she cared about. She might not win, but she would fight.
“You assholes want some?” she shouted as she started the Harley. “Then come and get some!” She wheeled the big beast around like it was her old Harley 125 dirt bike. Sliding it between the overturned car and the wall, she spun the back end around until she was sideways to the pileup. She pulled out the Glock, and as its tactical flashlight lit up the scene, the crazy she had seen before broke free of the wreckage and was immediately replaced by another, shrieking and clawing its way through the space.
Holding the pistol with one hand, she pulled the trigger several times. The shots missed, ricocheting around the tunnel wildly. She let go of the bike to grab the gun with both hands. The Harley shot forward and ran into the wall, then fell over on her leg. Her fatal mistake—she hadn’t taken it out of gear.
The first of the crazies reached her as she was kicking the bike, trying to free her leg from under it. She threw up her arm at the last instant and felt its crushing bite. With her left hand, she shoved the muzzle against the thing’s head and pulled the trigger. The warm blood erupted straight up and rained down on her, covering her face. Spitting and blinking, she used her free leg to push its body off her. Lying on her back with one leg still trapped, she pointed the Glock back to where the hole in the wreckage was. The next crazy had pushed through and came at her at a dead run. This time she did not miss. It fell in a heap and slid a couple of feet before stopping. Jay refocused on the breach, only to see a third one almost through. Rather than struggle to get free, she lined up the shot. Front sight, extend the arms, the red dot will come into focus, she thought calmly. She squeezed the trigger. There was no timing her breathing or steadying her heart rate; she just squeezed the trigger, again and again. The noise of the pistol stopped before she saw the slide locked back. She pulled it close to her face, squinting through the blood and bits of brain matter all over her; she found the magazine release and pushed it. She went to search her right-hand jacket pocket for another, only to recognize that her right arm was no longer working. With her free leg, she shoved with all her might against the bike, waiting for the inevitable feeling of the next bite that was surely coming.
Her left leg came loose. Still sitting on her ass with her feet straight out, she pointed the empty gun’s light toward the wreck. She expected to see more of them coming. Not understanding what was happening at first, she finally realized that she had killed the third one while it was still halfway through the hole. The shrieking had multiplied and she had no doubt that the others would tear the dead one apart shortly. She scurried to her feet and grabbed the handlebars with her left hand and the sissy bar with her right, which seemed partially functional now. Trying to ignore the pain in her arm, she lifted the bike up and swung her leg over.
After maneuvering back through the wrecked vehicles and around the body she had run over, she held the throttle wide open despite the pain shooting up her arm. She could see the light ahead. Ahhh, there’s the light at the end of the tunnel. She’d laugh at that one later, after she was done puking her guts out.
Chapter 12
Day 3
East Shore Estates
North Myrtle Beach, SC
Auddy & Danny
The drive to the maintenance shed only took a few minutes. They parked the BMW around back where the trucks, lawnmowers, and other equipment were stored.
Auddy got out and walked over to the old Chevy 1500. “Hey babe, check this out,” she said, pointing into the bed of the truck.
There in the truck bed was a generator and several gas containers. “Looks like the guys were getting ready to do something they needed power for,” she said.
Danny couldn’t believe their good fortune. “Well, looks like we might have some microwave popcorn tonight.” He high-fived her on her discovery. “No need to look for the keys, either,” she grinned, pointing to the keys hanging from the ignition.
“I was thinking maybe a shower and coffee,” Danny said as he got in the cab. “Put coffee creamer on our list.”
“Got it.” She smiled and hopped in next to him. The day seemed destined for success.
The first stop on the agenda, after the maintenance shed, was Charlie’s gun store. While Danny wasn’t thrilled, he saw the logic of trying to secure more ammunition, and almost more importantly, to find out what was going on.
They pulled the old pickup into the parking lot of Charlie’s store, and Danny drove slowly around the building. The place looked locked up tight. There were several cars parked in the lot, but no sign of anyone who might own them.
“Circle back around to the rear and park there,” Auddy said, sitting forward on the seat and looking closely at the structure. Danny did as she asked and stopped near the back entrance.
When she opened the door, the sound of a motor running became obvious. Auddy looked at Danny and he nodded. “Yeah, I hear it too.”
They both got out of the truck and approached the building. Auddy pushed the button next to the door and spoke into the intercom. “Doug, Charlie, this is Auddy Brant. Are you guys in there?”
There was no response. Auddy tried again. “Doug, Charlie?” The intercom crackled for a moment, but that was it. Then the door buzzed loudly as the electronic lock unlatched. Auddy reached for the handle. Danny stepped between her and the door. “Let me go first.” She didn’t have a chance to argue as Danny pulled the door open an inch.
He was still holding on to the handle when the door burst open, catching him on the side of his head. He crashed into Auddy and they both went to the ground in a heap. The creature was on them instantly, tearing at Danny’s chest. Danny grasped the thing and rolled away from Auddy. She looked over to see them grappling on the ground, then looked up to see the door swing shut. After the few seconds it took all of this to occur, the creature broke away from Danny and scrabbled back toward the building. Finding the way back inside blocked, it ran headlong into the door, shrieking loudly.
Auddy hadn’t even realized she had pulled the gun until it was firing seemingly of its own accord. The bullets found their mark and slammed into the back of the thing as it tried in vain to escape the sunlight. It fell down next to Auddy and its head rolled to the side. Its skin began to turn red and blister. She stared back at what used to be Charlie as its last breath heaved out of its chest. Then it
lay there unmoving, its eyes fixed on her.
She clambered to her feet and ran to where Danny lay unconscious. Blood was pouring from his head where the door had struck him so viciously. “Danny, Danny!” She was down next to him, yelling at him, her face next to his. “Danny please, Danny,” she wailed. Her head snapped toward the door as she heard the lock buzzing again. She had dropped the gun when she made her way to Danny. The door swung open, and there was Doug. He came out in a shooter’s stance, pointing the gun first toward Auddy, then at what used to be his dad.
He bent over his dad and felt for a pulse. Then, returning his gaze to Auddy, crouched beside Danny, he holstered his weapon and hurried toward them. He quickly examined Danny. Pulling back his eyelids, he turned to Auddy. “Help me get him up. We need to take him inside.”
Together they carried Danny between them, pausing at the door as Doug fumbled for his keys. Once inside, Doug directed Auddy to a door that appeared to lead to the employee break room. They laid Danny on the table in the middle of the room. “Wait here with him,” Doug said, hustling out of the room. “I have to get the first aid kit.”
Auddy unrolled the paper towels over the sink and held the resulting wad to the gash on the side of Danny’s head. She remembered her brother Mark hitting his head and bleeding all over the place years ago. Her dad had calmly held a towel against it and told her not to worry, that all head wounds bleed a lot, and that Mark would be fine. She hoped beyond hope that Danny would be okay.
Doug came back into the room carrying a formidable-looking case marked “First Aid.” He set it on the floor and unlatched the clasps holding it closed. Once opened, he grabbed a bag of something and also a bottle of water. “Okay, gently remove those towels from the wound, then I’m going clean the wound with this sterilized water, then I want you to open this quick-clot and apply it.” She pulled the paper towels away as gently as she could. Some stuck to the wound, and she gingerly pulled those away too. Doug irrigated the wound with the water.
Apocalypse Family (Book 2): Family Reunion J Page 8
