SHATTER: Epoch’s End Book 2: (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Series) (Epoch's End)

by Mike Kraus

  “You might want to try the shower anyway,” Tom said. “The water heaters are insulated and if it’s a gas water heater, it might still work depending on how it’s lit.” Tom motioned at the chair where he’d hung fresh garments. “You should be able to find some dry clothes in here, too.”

  Sam climbed out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Door shut behind her, she began rummaging around and soon, water burst from the shower spigot, then ten seconds later, Sam gave a happy cheer.

  “Must be working,” Tom smiled.

  Jerry and Tom changed into freshly washed clothes, the soft material brushing wonderfully against their skin. Tom pulled on two pairs of socks and an extra sweatshirt over his T-shirt, grunting as he forced the garments over each other.

  “Hopefully, we can stay dry this time.” Tom smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt. “Last thing we need is to get wet and cold all over again.”

  “What’s the plan for today?”

  “I’d like to salvage a few things from the hotel,” Tom said, “then hit the road. How’s your arm?”

  “Much better, surprisingly.” Jerry lifted it straight out, almost able to get it over his head before wincing with pain and withdrawing it.

  “That’s great. Come here, let me check the bandages.”

  They met at the table where Jerry sat opposite him with his arm stretched across the surface. Tom peeled back a corner of tape to see the scraped skin still moist with antiseptic.

  “This is still okay, I think.” He pressed the tape back in place. “I’ve only got enough supplies for two more dressings, so we should conserve it.”

  “I’m good with that,” Jerry agreed, taking his arm back and testing it.

  Tom crossed to inspect their shoes. Despite the power being out, the heat had been on long enough to dry them and he put Jerry’s on the floor at the foot of the bed, then slipped his own boots on, tying them up tightly. Standing, he raised on his tiptoes a few times to loosen them up.

  “Just like new,” Tom grinned.

  “Hardly,” Jerry laughed as he sat on the edge of the bed and pushed his feet into his tennis shoes, “but much better than last night. I’ll take warped and dry over wet and soggy any day.”

  “Agreed,” Tom knelt to help Jerry tie his shoes, then stood to look at their supplies spread out across the room. “Let’s start packing.”

  He stepped to the table and loaded their backpacks, putting the bottled waters and drinks on the bottom before adding the jerky and energy bars, followed by the first aid kit, miscellaneous supplies, and clothing. He left the bulky pillows behind but took the sheets off the bed, folded them tight, and crammed them on top.

  “We still have a little room.” Tom gestured at both his and Sam’s backpacks where they rested on a pair of chairs “I’ll save it for stuff we find in the hotel. Donut?” He flipped the top of a pastry box open.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Jerry said.

  “I hate to eat them again.” Tom sighed and reached for one himself. “But the sugar crash will be worth it.”

  “Definitely.” Jerry spoke around a mouthful of sweet cake.

  Sam popped out of the bathroom ten minutes later in a robe with a towel wrapped around her head. She trailed a huge waft of steam, which was exaggerated in the chilly room.

  “That was amazing.” The girl stepped to the chair with the clothes. “But it’s freezing out here.”

  “I left you two pairs of socks and a sweatshirt.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Sam frowned as she sorted the clothes. “I’ll have to wear my old jeans, but they’re dry enough.”

  After selecting what she wanted, the girl took her things into the bathroom to change. She appeared a few minutes later fully dressed in a baggy gray sweatshirt hanging off her girlish shoulders. The towel came down next, her wet hair falling out in curls and she ran her hair through the towel, trying to get it as dried as possible.

  Tom stood at the window, peeking between the blinds for the third time since waking, still seeing no signs of any danger in their immediate vicinity. “Keep drying that hair of yours, kiddo. We want to make sure you’re completely dry before we go outside.”

  “I’ll run a brush through it,” she replied, returning to the bathroom. “That might help.”

  Tom nodded absently as he stared into the morning sunlight shining across the parking lot, blinking in pleasant surprise. “Huh. The sun’s out.”

  “No way,” Jerry rose from the edge of the bed and joined him at the window, parting the blinds with his finger. “Wow. Seems like forever since I’ve seen that beautiful orange ball. It’s so bright.”

  “It’s about to get brighter.” Tom gestured for him to step back, tugging the cord to raise the blinds all the way to the top, allowing in a wash of light. Jerry raised his arm to cover his face and Tom narrowed his eyes at the brightness. The sunlight shined through the glass to cut sharply across the carpet, warming the air instantly, bringing with it a sense of hope in spite of their situation.

  Sam appeared, made a happy noise, and dashed over to brush her hair out in the sun’s warmth. The room filled with the smell of her shampoo, and Tom smiled, remembering how the house back home used to smell some mornings with three girls around, all of them using some slightly perfumy product on their hair or skin.

  “Make sure you both take a leak before we go,” Tom strode over to the bathroom. “We might not have many places to stop once we’re on the road and I, for one, don’t want to use the bushes.”

  They each took care of their business and stood by the front door, Sam donning a black beanie they’d found in a suitcase and tucked her hair up into it before they threw on their jackets and shouldered their packs.

  “Ready?” Tom asked.

  They nodded, so he moved the chair aside, unbolted the lock, and opened the door, stepping out in the chilly air. While the sun beat down warm across the lot, their breath puffed out in small gusts of mist, puddles on the ground already looking half-frozen and the nearby power lines starting to ice over.

  “Let’s go check the lobby for something we can use.”

  Tom guided them to the rear, and they entered through the same pried-open door as the evening before. Following the blood trail inside, they crossed the old storage room and into the hall.

  “Stay out of there.” Tom pointed to the closed office door and gestured for them to go the other way toward the lobby.

  “Is that where the...” Sam swallowed, unable to finish her sentence.

  “Yes. And you don’t want to see it.”

  They filed into the lobby area, Tom angling straight for the front desk, rifling through the shelves and drawers. He started from the bottom drawers and went upward, leaving them open after rifling through each one, moving swiftly and with purpose.

  “What are we looking for?” Sam circled inside.

  “Food. First aid kits. Like this.” Tom drew out a compact plastic square with a red cross emblazoned on the front from beneath the desk. He handed it to Jerry and turned so the young man could place it inside Tom’s pack.

  “Got it,” Sam said, glancing around. “It looks like there’s a dining room over there. I’ll go check it out.”

  Tom finished with the desk and circled to stand in front of the window where they’d first knocked the evening before. Two cars passed by on the road, and at least a dozen people walked along US-58, one family bundled up against the chilly morning air, a few others dressed in vacation clothing, shivering as they huddled together for warmth. Puffs of steam trailed behind each person, betraying the chill in the air even as the sun still shone bright overhead.

  “Score!” Sam called out from the other side of the lobby. Tom turned and saw her pointing into a storeroom next to a buffet-style counter where they likely used to serve complimentary breakfasts. He crossed to where Sam grinned at him and stepped past her into a compact kitchen area. To their right were industrial-sized jars of peanut butter and jelly, biscuit gravy, freeze-dried eggs, dess
ert snacks, and packs of chocolate chip and oatmeal cookies and a basket of fresh fruit still sat on a prep table.

  “Oh, this is a score, Sam. Great job.” Tom shed his pack and placed it on the floor. “Grab all the fruit you can carry.”

  They loaded up with a bunch of bananas, a half dozen apples, and four oranges, then they threw in some cookies and small boxes of dry cereal to top it off. It was a lot of sugar to be carrying around, but it would provide them with much-needed calories and it was a good balance to the protein from the jerky sticks they had.

  “Look at this.” Jerry had slipped in behind them and strode to the other side of the room. Tom followed him and found the young man pointing to a stack of bottled water cases.

  “We should find a cart and load it up,” Jerry suggested. “We could take turns pushing it.”

  Tom shook his head. “No. We need to be as discreet as possible, and these backpacks we’re carrying are already going to make us stand out like sore thumbs. Pushing along a cart filled with water will just slow us down and make us easy targets.”

  “Like that family that had their bikes stolen,” Sam pointed out.

  “Exactly. We don’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves. We’re just a trio of refugees with meager supplies trying to find our way back home.”

  “Low profile. Got it.” Jerry bent and pulled three bottles from a case that was already open, handing them around. “Still, we should each take one for the road.”

  Tom thanked him, popped the top on his, and took three big swallows before looking around the room. “Okay, guys. I think we’re loaded up with as much as we can carry. Let’s hit the road.”

  They shouldered their packs and crossed the lobby to the front door, Tom turned the deadbolt, and they stepped into the sunlight, walking up the ramp to join the other travelers on US-58, heading west on the right side of the road. The trio kept at least twenty yards between themselves and those walking in front and behind them, Jerry walking on Tom’s right, and Sam on his left.

  “How are you guys feeling?” he asked, rolling his shoulders beneath his backpack. The aches that had been taken away by the hot shower had returned thanks to sleeping on the couch, and the backpack was ensuring that he wouldn’t soon forget them.

  “My head feels a little better,” Jerry replied. “But my neck aches. I think it’s from the crash. Or maybe it’s sore from when you used me as a battering ram.” Jerry chuckled. “Actually, it’s hard to tell.”

  “I know what you mean,” Samantha agreed. “My left knee hurts, and my neck is sore, too. I can’t decide if it’s from the wreck or when I was lighting those people on fire.”

  “Sorry you guys had to go through all that. There’s a lot about this whole experience that I’d change if I could.”

  “You did great, Dad.” Sam gave him a playful elbow in his ribs. “I mean, if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have even made it off that research boat. We might still be out there floating in the ocean... or worse.” Tom shuddered at the reminder of all the vessels and lives that had been lost due to the anomaly.

  “How do you feel, Tom?” Jerry asked, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ve been through all of this, too, and barely said a word about yourself.”

  “A lot like you guys,” he replied. “I’m sore. My knees and feet hurt. I’m not the young man I used to be.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve got old man strength.”

  Tom chuckled dryly and shot Jerry a mock sour look. “I’m not that old.”

  The trio lapsed into silence, devoting their energy toward making better time and soon they were passing people on the highway, giving each group a wide berth, keeping their words and gazes to themselves to avoid attention. A twenty-something woman with two younger kids in tow marched ahead of them, the mother wearing her sandy blonde hair back in a disheveled ponytail, a heavy backpack hanging from her shoulders, suitcase in one hand. Her son pulled a red wagon behind him with a small cooler and stack of bottled waters in the bed while the little girl wore a pink backpack with a dolphin on the back pocket as she gripped her mother’s hand, constantly shifting the pack’s position. It was stuffed to bursting with belongings, and her shoulders bowed forward with the weight, causing her – and her brother and mother – to look more like a trio of zombies than people as they trudged westward to no end.

  Tom winced inwardly at how vulnerable they’d be to anyone wanting an easy score. Sam flashed her father a sad glance and he sighed, nodded and slowed, drawing closer to the woman.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” Tom said. “Ma’am?”

  The woman slowly raised her head, her tired blue eyes blinking at Tom like he was a ghost.

  “Do you need some help?”

  “W-what?” Her response was confused, like she was having trouble processing what Tom was saying.

  “We can help you carry something if you want,” Tom offered.

  Fear flashed in the woman’s eyes, and she stopped and turned to wrap her arm protectively around her daughter. The little girl watched Tom and his companions with big, fearful blue eyes.

  “We’re fine,” the woman snapped, pulling both children closer. “We don’t need any help!”

  Tom changed tactics. “How about some food? Are you hungry?”

  She blinked, a frown mixed with disbelief. “Are… you serious?”

  “We’re totally serious.” Sam walked up, wearing a grin, already holding out three bananas, offering them to the mother. The woman stared at the fruit and then up at Sam.

  “Well, okay,” she said with fading reluctance. “Yes, I think the kids are a little hungry. We’ve been walking all night and didn’t eat breakfast.” She accepted the three bananas and handed them out to the kids, whose faces lit up as they eagerly peeled them and took big bites. Seeing her children enjoying the fruit, a smile spread on the woman’s face, and she turned her grateful expression upon Tom. “Thank you so much. I’m… sorry I was rude before. It’s just so dangerous out here.” She lowered her voice. “I saw three people get beat up last night. It was ugly.”

  “We know.” Tom nodded. “No apologies needed. Go ahead and eat. We’ll wait with you. The more the better when it comes to staying safe out here.”

  When they finished their bananas, Sam offered the mother two energy bars and gave the kids some prepackaged rice treats from the hotel. Tom and Jerry stood guard as other groups passed them, some shooting them side glances to measure them up, receiving the pair’s scowls and furrowed brows in return.

  The mother took a long drink of water from a bottled water Sam had given her and her whole body visibly relaxed, clearly refreshed from whatever hell she had been going through. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said, all trace of her former hostility gone.

  “Where are you headed?” Tom asked.

  The woman’s eyes ticked westward. “That way. My parents live in Windsor. It’s not terribly far, but my car broke down. What about you guys?”

  “Were headed in the same direction.” Tom turned and glanced at the red wagon. “Jerry, can you carry that cooler?”

  The young man walked over and took the cooler out from the wagon bed. Sam knew what her father was about to suggest, and she removed the stack of waters and put them in her backpack.

  “Wait, w-what are you doing?” The woman’s voice rose with renewed tension until Tom walked over and took the wagon handle from the little boy with a smile.

  “Kids, get inside. I’ll pull you.”

  The children looked up at their mother expectantly, her fearful eyes fading as she flashed Tom and Sam a grin. “Yes, go ahead, kids. Get in and let the nice man pull you.”

  The pair’s faces lit up as the girl climbed in back with her legs crossed and her brother sat in front of her with his feet hanging over the edge.

  “Let’s go,” Tom nodded and pulled the kids along, their mother falling in close beside him, relaxed again but still staying close to her progeny.

  “I’m Jean,” the mother said, fall
ing in beside him. “And you have no idea how grateful I am for this.”

  “Actually, I do. I have kids myself, and I’d want a stranger to do the same for them if they were in trouble.”

  “Do unto others...” Jean said.

  “Exactly. I’m Tom.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tom. Are both of those yours?” She nodded at Sam and Jerry who’d fallen in behind them.

  “Just the girl. That’s Samantha – Sam for short. The other guy is Jerry. He’s a stray we picked up on the side of the road.”

  “Hey!” Jerry laughed.

  Jean chuckled. “I guess we’re strays, too.”

  “Maybe we all are.”

  As they walked, they chatted briefly between periods of silence, Tom telling Jean where they were from near Bristol, and her replying that she knew of the place but had never been there. Tom’s eyelids eventually fell half shut as the talk died down, the kids fussing in their tired boredom as the adults redirected their energy into walking. The mother and her children were a burden, but that was okay with him; there was no way he could live with himself if he allowed the small family to travel alone, unprotected in a world becoming more violent by the minute.

  The flow of refugees around the group grew, and soon they weren’t able to keep much space between themselves and others as the convoy of bodies grew more crowded. Tom kept them close to the side of the road, using the sidewalk where they could, allowing unencumbered people to pass them without much trouble.

  Cars sped by down the middle of the road, all of them heading west through the endless sea of storm blasted buildings, loose shingles fluttering in the gusting breezes, parts of roofs hanging free, pieces falling to the road. Rain dribbled on them from the sky and dripped from the eaves, carried sideways at them by the wind. Garbage and debris were scattered everywhere from the storm, and he’d only seen two emergency vehicles the entire time, both of them bearing markings that seemed uncomfortably like impacts from weapons. A few stores on the north side of the highway were open, but the owners stood at the doors with guns, only letting in a few people at a time, watching over both their customers and their wares with an intense gaze.