“They’re in the black bag in the back. Go ahead and help yourself. I have to get us some gas or its going to be a short trip.”
I grabbed the jerry cans off the back bumper and spied the handful of cars in close enough vicinity. I walked around the front of the Jeep moving toward a sporty little number half up on the curb. William was sitting in the passenger seat munching away with his eyes closed. I thought briefly about the trip he must have taken to get this far. He had to be retarded or something. How the hell had he made it this far? What did that say about me and the rough fucking time I’ve had of it. What about all those hardcase mother fuckers I had seen along the way, half eaten and dragging their own guts behind them? I figured his being retarded must have been a benefit rather than a burden. He had no real idea what the hell was going on. In his mind he was just going to Grandma’s for the weekend, hoping to get some snacks along the way.
I sucked half a can of gas out of the ‘Vette. A good start, but not enough. I moved to the next car, some little beater wrapped around a sign pole. Doesn’t anybody know how to drive anymore? I made my way past the driver side toward the gas cap and I just about shit my pants when a corpse missing half its face slammed itself against the glass from the inside. No way it had the strength to bust the glass, but I was a little worried that the racket might signal one of its friends.
I managed to top off one of the cans and get about a third of the other. I noticed my buddies from earlier had perked up and were headed back this way toward the shithead in the car making all the noise. The gas I had would have to be enough.
I beat feet back to the Jeep and William was still sitting in the passenger seat, chocolate smeared on one cheek and a contemplative look on his mug. I fixed the cans to the back and climbed in. I turned the key and as the engine kicked over one of the corpses threw itself onto the hood.
“That man looks angry,” William said.
“I would be too. If I was dead and all I wanted to do was lay down…” I trailed off as we sat there watching this thing beat itself ineffectually against the hood of the Jeep. I was more intent on watching William’s reaction to the whole thing. He just stared at it. No fear. No revulsion. No reaction at all, like he was watching an egg fry or an ant crawl on a windowsill. I couldn’t figure him out.
“We should go now,” William said, pointing out the windshield past the roof of another car. There were at least a dozen more corpses dragging their way toward us.
“Fuck ‘em,” I blurted, throwing the Jeep into first and driving over the fucker on the hood. I was half tempted to drop it into reverse and finish the job, but Mom always told me never to tempt the Devil. With my luck, we’d get hung up on the body and end up zombie chow.
“You should not swear. Father says it is not proper.”
“I’ll do my best kid.”
We drove in silence for a while. Progress was slow, moving around piled cars, on and off of side streets. We didn’t see too many more corpses either. At one point, I even managed to stop and fill the tank and both gas cans. Might even have enough gas to get to New Jersey, or at least close to it, even giving up my original plan to follow I-95.
William wasn’t the most conversational driving buddy. Every few minutes he would make some observation about a wrecked car or a gang of zombies shambling across the street. I noticed that they seemed to move in packs. It didn’t look like any kind of active decision, just kind of like those old pictures they used to show of Russians lined up for bread, only they were lined up for human flesh. And they weren’t standing still either, kind of shuffling along with no real purpose, unless one of ‘em gets a look at something they want to chew on. That happens and they home in like missiles. Slow moving, but fucking relentless.
So we just kept creeping north when we could, east when could, and doubling back only when we had to. The GPS didn’t last long, but I had maps. The going was slow, but not as slow as you might think. The back roads weren’t too tangled until you got close to an on-ramp for the interstate. We should be in New Jersey in less than a week, maybe even just a few days.
Max
“I know you didn’t mean for this to happen”
That was the last thing I said before I left. I didn’t say anything to Daniel. With all the adults freaking the hell out about what happened to the town it was easy as hell to snag a set of keys and a backpack. Rocky knew something was up and was waiting in the back of the pickup. We took off before they noticed a thing.
“Fuck them.” I mumbled to Rocky.
“Damn near got me and you killed, mother fuckers. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck…”
“And shit.” At that point I started laughing like a crazy person because I was tired, angry, and cuss words are always funny.
Rocky shook his head at me. I figured we had driven far enough to take a look at what we had in the truck to work with until we could find a safe place to get supplies. Supply runs with Daniel had taught me a few things, but being alone was going to be my biggest advantage. Rocky and I can scout an area silently. That dog has always read my mind and always seems to be where I need him without any instructions.
Burning tears flowed down my cheeks. God, I was angry. Grabbing Rocky around the neck I ran my hands through his fur. If they had let something happen to him I may have killed them all. He was all I had left of home. Rocky is family. I learned my lesson. Don’t get to comfortable. Comfort gets you killed. So Rocky and I would keep moving.
My mom had an old farm dog that she loved. Goldie followed momma the way Rocky follows me. Goldie would curl up on the porch after supper and lay warming my mom’s feet while I played in the yard. One summer Goldie got fat. She got lazier, and spent most of her day lying on the porch, even when momma was busy. Growing up on a farm I knew it meant she was carrying pups. But Goldie wasn’t going to have pups the easy way.
It was late one evening that Goldie started panting really heavy. Her eyes turned glassy and she just stared off in the distance. My mom brought some blankets out to the porch and tried to help her get comfortable. Nothing was helping, but momma said that was how it is sometimes and we just had to patient. I waited as long as I could; curled up on the extra blankets I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke to the sound of a truck rushing up the gravel driveway. It was still dark, and with only the light on the porch I could hardly see. My mom’s face looked tired and worried. I wondered who was here. Doc Thompson jumped out of his truck and sprinted towards our porch. Goldie lifted her head to show she saw him, and then rested again. Eyes closed she panted furiously. Something was very wrong.
“They aren’t coming, Doc. Least not on their own.”
“Lizzie, I will do what I can, but this porch isn’t the best place to have treat her. I can’t make any promises.”
Dad scooped me up and brought me in the house. I protested for a bit, but he told me they needed room, and I would probably be in the way. I prayed and prayed that Goldie and the pups would be alright. But, when I heard my mom’s cries I knew that those prayers hadn’t been answered. Curiosity beat out fear and I snuck back out to the porch. It was covered in blood, and back in those days that kind of sight stuck with you.
Mom had Goldie’s head resting on her lap as she stroked the dog’s fur. I could tell Goldie was gone, but momma wasn’t ready to let go. Doc had something really small and gooey in his hand. He was working furiously at keeping that small thing warm. As I managed to get closer I saw it was a pup. One lone little guy fighting to stay alive. Without a doubt, at that moment I prayed harder than I have ever prayed for anything in my whole life.
“Max, come here,” Doc called at me. “I need you to take over, my hands are going numb.”
As he handed me the pup, he explained what he had been doing. Performing little gentle circular movements on the pup’s chest would keep the blood flowing, and hopefully get him breathing on his own. We were at it for over an hour. Doc looked down at the pup, and sighed.
“If he makes it on his own till
morning we are in the clear. Put him down your shirt against your skin. That should keep him warm. There really isn’t anything else we can do.”
Doc then got up, hugged my Mom, and loaded up his things. As put his tools away in his truck he promised to call later in the day to check on everyone. Dad carried momma up to bed. I heard him whisper that he was sorry over and over again as he took her away. When he returned, he grabbed the shovel out of the shed and went to bury Goldie out in the side yard. I never connected it before, but that was the same spot he buried momma.
When he had finished, he took a seat next to me on the porch swing. “We have to get all this cleaned up before your Mom wakes up. She is really gonna miss that dog. Speaking of dogs, how’s the little fighter doing?”
“He’s still breathing.” I said. “Doc said that’s the important part.”
“Yea it is. What are you going to name him?”
“Hadn’t thought about it.” It never crossed my mind, I was too busy being scared that he was going to die, and praying that he wouldn’t. Dad was right, he needed a name. Once I knew it, it felt like he was going to make it. He was real now.
“ I betcha know now. I can see it on your face. “
“Rocky. Like the boxer from the movies. This pup is tough, so he needs a tough name.”
Dad smiled at me. “I think that is a great name for him, Max. You stay here keeping him warm and I will go get the hose. Let’s clean this place up, then go inside and make all three of us breakfast.”
I spent every second with Rocky after that. Well, until school started. But by then he was strong as could be and didn’t need me holding him to keep him warm anymore. We were brothers, it didn’t matter that he was furry and I wasn’t. We took care of each other from day one. I wasn’t every going to let anything bad happen to him. I felt the anger growing in my gut again. I pushed myself up and away from Rocky.
“Keep watch, boy. I’m gonna see how screwed we are.”
My backpack was loaded up with three days worth of food and water for Rocky and me. That was a good start, but it wasn’t going to keep us alive very long. The truck had a rifle and a hand gun in it. Those were two huge scores. The hand gun didn’t have much ammo, but the rifle had a decent amount. There was better accuracy with that one, so I put that in the good luck pile.
We were low on gas, but when aren’t we anymore. Gassing up is a pain, and the townies would always bitch and moan about how they had to go further and further to get it. I had a small knife, a tire iron, and few blankets. Rocky and me needed to find a small town fast, or we weren’t going to make it. I signaled for him to get in the cab, and we took off down the road.
By sunset we had come across a place with potential. I wasn’t heading in there so close to dark, though. It would have been different if I knew the town, but it was suicide to get trapped at night somewhere new. I didn’t take off just to get killed the first night making some rookie ass move. We parked the truck up on the ridge about a half of a mile away from the town. Finally, I felt like I could relax. All that fighting Daniel and the Rev had been doing for the last few weeks had put me on edge.
I didn’t say goodbye to Daniel when we left. Breaking his nose said everything I needed it to. Daniel was the only guy there that had ever made any sense. He knew better than to treat me like some dumb ass kid, then he goes off and acts like some dumb ass kids himself. I probably should have told him why I was mad, but what would it have helped. Him and the Rev are so bent on playing king of the hill, that we lost a bunch of people because of them.
I only said goodbye to Rev because I really believe he didn’t mean it. He was just too damn stupid to know better. Daniel I expected more from. He should have been able to see what would happen if he went off halfcocked. “You gotta plan every move out here,” He would tell me. Then he doesn’t plan at all. Or maybe he did, I don’t care. He almost got Rocky and me killed, and I ain’t putting up with that.
Rocky scarfed down his can of dog food. I’m not ashamed to say I scarfed mine down, too. Before all this crap happened, I never would have ate the stuff. But now? Hey, it’s food. Locking the doors, I pulled the blanket over both of us and drifted off to sleep. Neither of us stayed up to keep watch, I guess we just needed a good night’s sleep, or some time next to one another. Either way, when we woke up it was morning.
“We need to go in that town today, boy. The faster we can get in and out, the better.”
I thought about eating breakfast before we went in, but I figured it may upset my stomach. Better to deal with it later, and maybe with better food. Starting the truck was much louder than I expected. Rocky was on top of his job, and his head jerked back and forth as he scanned the area for moaners. We gave it a few minutes, when no one came stumbling along, we drifted down the ridge. “Back to the way it ought to be,” I stated. “Right, boy?”
I’m pretty sure he agreed, cause he licked my hand.
Mick
The more time I spent with Wayne and his friends, the more I liked them. They were down to earth people. Watching how they are with their families makes me wish I had been a better man back when it wasn’t a matter of survival. Some nights I dream of the days my ex-wife and I were still together. I had it all wrong. Years of resentment made me hate her. I can see now she wasn’t the piece of shit I believed her to be, she was just trying to navigate all my bullshit. Some nights I wish her and the kids have found a safe place, others I wish they died just so they wouldn’t have to struggle anymore. No matter what, I promise myself I will never be that selfish son of a bitch anymore.
Amy only knows the good me. It started as a mask that I wore so her and the kids would give me that ride that I needed. Then it became who I was. They say a man can change, only if he really wants to, though. I’ve come a long way from that asshole locked up in the corner store. Nice part about reinventing yourself with people you just met is that they will never know you did it. They will believe this is who you have always been.
We’ve been pushing along on the back roads for way too long now. Days are beginning to merge, and there are times when I think we have actually managed to go backwards. Oh hell, it probably just feels that way. Wayne is doing a great job keeping spirits up, but the trip that should have been over months ago seems like it will never end. We need to work our way back to the highway. Anything is better than the stop go we face going through every small town along the way. Plus we keep picking up strays. I know we were once strays that were added to this fine group, but we can hold our own.
Two days ago we rolled up into yet another middle of bumblefuck town, which barely merited a mention on the map. Amy, Zoe and I were four cars back from the lead. Being stuck in the middle was good or bad, depending on who you are talking to. If I had a choice I’d pick rear or lead. I like having an escape route. Anyway, we roll up into this shithole that’s been torn apart and immediately know that a supply run is going to be useless. Not my call though, because middle man gets no say in the matter. Jim was up front that day and he was known for stopping everywhere.
The man did not care what the area looked like; he was determined to find some magical treasure in every lousy neighborhood we drifted through. This was a big part of our issue with getting to the place on the flyer. We spent way too much time worrying about being prepared for every issue that could arrive. This group has some great qualities, but over planning is definitely holding us back. Amy could sense my frustration and took my hand in hers. No one has ever calmed me like she does. The anger eased back as she traced tiny circles on my hand.
Jim signals for an all stop, and we pull our vehicles in position. Lining up while parked makes no sense, so we point the cars in ways where they can pull around each other if needed. Garrett is right behind me, and Emma pops out of her dad’s truck as soon as we stop to go running over to him. Things have gotten pretty serious with those kids. Amy was ready to kick his ass about it. Weird shit must be going on when I become the voice of reason, and it ended up
being my job to talk her out of it.
Life moves too fast now to get fixated on something so trivial as age or how long someone has known another person. Each day could easily be your last, and it would be a shame to see a kid like him miss out on something as monumental as first love. I still remember that girl from back in high school who was my first everything. That kind of intensity can’t and shouldn’t be repeated, but when it happens it is one hell of a rollercoaster ride. All you can do is strap in and enjoy it.
It’s harder for her to let the kids go. She feels a duty to them and her dead brother to keep them safe, but this world ain’t safe. And to be honest Garrett hasn’t been a kid for a long time. There they stand kissing and cuddling, acting like this is just a normal day, just like any other normal day when you are a teenager and in love. Well fuck, I’d give anything to feel like that right now. I squeeze Amy’s hand and plant a small kiss on her forehead. Time to man up and go treasure hunting.
The best way to handle these runs was to send one person from each vehicle. We always left behind at least one person capable of getting those cars out of there if needed. Too many people moving from building to building generally led to too much noise. Noise led to dead guys, and dead guys led to us becoming dead guys. Garrett got to stay behind this time because he was the only driver for his truck. I had a feeling when we returned that we would see Emma join him for the next leg of the journey. She was pretty good at still spending time with her dad. It was one of the things Amy and I both liked most about her, she had loyalty.
Ten of us slowly make our way towards Main Street, USA. What a waste of time. I can feel my anger building up again. Every time we march down streets out in the open, we are risking our lives for a few cans of tuna. All I can do is remind myself that anger makes me careless, and figure out a way to reign that shit back in. Wayne reaches the first store door. Hand signals are shot all around, but we have done this same scenario so many times most of them are just for show. We damn well better know where we should be, and who has what job at this point.
Aftershock Zombie Series (Book 1): Aftershock (A Collection of Survivors Tales) Page 18
