by Brown, TW
I felt something pushed against my side and turned to see a shotgun being thrust my way. I didn’t even think as I took it, checked it, and brought it to my shoulder. I had to wait because I knew that range was not my friend with a shotgun.
A loud crack from my right made me wince. I almost dropped the shotgun as my eardrum felt like it had been smacked with a ballpeen hammer. I looked over to see Selina with a hunting rifle pressed to her shoulder.
She didn’t even acknowledge me as she took a deep breath and held it. There was a pause, and then she fired again.
I looked to the bus and saw two holes in the front windshield. I also could not see a driver! I was waiting for the big yellow vehicle to veer over the deep drop off to the left or slam into the sheer face of the hill that rose to our right.
Neither happened.
A moment later, a figure popped back up in the driver’s seat. Then I saw movement on the top of the bus. Somebody was getting into position behind the .50 cal that was mounted to the top of the school bus. I could see the safety barricade in place that the person was clipping into and felt my mouth go dry.
The opening scene of Saving Private Ryan popped into my head. The part when that amphibious craft hit the beach and opened the hatch.
“Fuck me,” I whispered.
14
Licking Wounds
Somebody yelled something to the driver of our truck and the vehicle accelerated while beginning to weave erratically. The roar of that machine gun was perhaps the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard.
Luckily, many of the people in the back of the deuce were firing back. The driver had no choice but to weave as well and that made it almost impossible for the gunner to do anything but spray and pray. Luckily, none of those prayers were answered as we rounded the turn that would put us on the highway.
The bad part was that our impromptu hosts had no choice but to take us with them. They certainly couldn’t take the time to stop and let us out.
We turned right and started into the winding section of the Highway known as the Carver Curves. A river ran alongside the left of the road and heavy trees with only an occasional residence bordered on the right.
The best thing this stretch of road had to offer were all the twists and turns. I could hear the bus, but it would always just come into view as we rounded a curve. The speeds we were now moving at felt very dangerous, and a few times, we were tossed around with the assorted supplies stacked back here with us.
We sped past a few residences on the left and I know we would be emerging from the curves in a moment. The next stretch of road heading toward the depot would be a very long and straight stretch of road that was not going to offer us much chance of escaping unscathed.
The captain had been tossed to the bed of the cargo area and struggled to her knees. Selina helped her up and then said something. The captain looked at her with a strange expression for a second until the girl gave a little nod. Captain Burrell crawled to the window where the driver sat on the other side.
She hollered something, but I couldn’t make it out over the engine of the deuce compounded by her shouting forward and me being in the back by the tailgate. As we roared past a tiny diner that had a small claim to fame with being used in the filming of the Twilight movies, the bus emerged from behind us.
It had fallen behind a bit, but not nearly enough. We were coming up on a three-way split in the road. Turning right would point us toward the guard depot.
It took me a moment to realize that we’d turned left. I could look out now and see the other two trucks speeding away toward what they hoped would be safety. We rumbled down a slight decline and then hit the flatness of the bridge that would take us over the Clackamas River.
I held my breath as the school bus reached the juncture of the three-way split. It didn’t even slow as it raced after the other two trucks.
“Where are we going?” I shouted over the noise of the powerful diesel engine that was propelling us toward the foothills.
“McIver Park, Evan,” the captain said calmly. “I think we can hide out there for a bit.”
I shot a look at Selina, but her eyes suddenly found more interesting things to look at on the ground. How would she know that was where we had settled? Had I talked about that in front of her? It all seemed so jumbled.
“Not sure of the logic behind such a location, but I am curious to see the place for myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been,” Captain Burrell said with a shrug.
“Not from around here?” I quipped.
“Actually, I lived just outside of Troutdale.”
“But you’ve never been to McIver?”
“Honestly, not a big outdoors person,” the captain answered with a shrug.
I opened my mouth, but then shut it as I realized that I had plenty of friends who didn’t get into the hunting, fishing, or camping. And if you were into things like hiking, then you probably took to the mountains or the Columbia Gorge.
“Then what did you like to do?” I asked, leaning back against the tarp that covered the cargo area of the big truck.
“I had a garden.” The captain closed her eyes and I could tell by the smile that began to tug at the corners of her mouth that she was enjoying a pleasant memory. “I never bought herbs from the store if I could grow them. And then there were all the fresh fruits and veggies. It was so nice to stop on the way into the house and grab something for that night’s dinner.”
I nodded as she spoke, recalling how Stephanie and I had failed three years in a row to get tomatoes to grow. Our biggest problem was always thinking the other was doing the watering. But one year…we actually got one Roma tomato plant to survive long enough to give us three whole tomatoes.
They had been delicious.
“Other than that, I was a software designer. Hell, when all this happened and I got recalled, I was packing for my trip to New York. Had tickets to five shows and was even going to be shown around the floor of the stock market by a friend who works there.” She frowned and opened her eyes. “A couple more days and I would’ve been…there.”
Her face paled and I saw her fists clench. I hadn’t caught much of the news, so I had no idea what happened where. Judging by her face, the Big Apple had not fared well.
“The last image from that media helicopter as it bugged out was a city on fire with probably millions of those things clogging the roads and pouring across the bridges. They say that over a hundred thousand people died there on the clogged roads. Trapped in their cars, they just got swarmed in a tsunami of rotten flesh with teeth and claws.”
I closed my own eyes as I realized that this was even worse than I’d considered. I couldn’t imagine a hundred thousand—much less a million—of the undead marching along. I’d seen some large groups that might’ve even numbered into the thousands. But to consider the numbers I was hearing from the captain, I once again had to wonder what our actual chances of survival truly might be.
We rode in silence after that, chewing up days of foot travel in a matter of about forty minutes. I saw the house where the cats and all that horror existed roll past as we slowed and then turned into the long entry drive of McIver Park.
I winced the few times we bounced over a body. They made a very identifiable crunch that set my teeth on edge.
We slowed and stopped. I could hear a lot of shouting and threatening. One voice stood out from the rest.
I got up and jumped out as I shouted, “Alex! It’s us. Stand down.”
I peered from behind the big truck and was impressed to discover that I didn’t see anybody. They were all using cover. Smart.
Raising my hands, I stepped all the way out. “It’s me…Evan. Marshawn is with me and we have a few…guests.”
“Come away from the truck, Evan,” Alex called from somewhere to my left and on the opposite side of the truck.
I skirted down the side and reached the front bumper, making sure to keep my hands up. I peeked out and waited. After a moment, a ful
ly camouflaged person emerged from the brush. When the veiled hat was pulled off by one gloved hand, I saw Alex’s familiar somewhat lopsided grin.
She took a step toward me, but her eyes kept flashing over to the cab of the truck. She had closed half the distance when the brush rustled and then a large black dog bounded out. She loped past Alex and slammed into me, her paws coming up and resting on my shoulders as her mouth opened and a huge wet tongued made a few sloppy passes on my face.
“Chewie!” I laughed, dropping to one knee so I could ruffle her ears and hold her big head in my hands.
I’d no sooner dropped when a small voice spoke from behind me. “Chewie was supposed to stay in the camp.”
I looked over my shoulder to see Michael standing there with his hands behind his back. As usual, he was looking at the ground, but I swear I caught just a flicker as he looked up and flashed just the slightest smile.
“I think I have somebody that you will like to see also,” I said calmly as I continued to plunge my fingers into Chewie’s thick, black fur.
“Michael?” a timid voice squeaked.
The boy turned around. And in that very moment, you would have never known he was autistic. His face lit up. He actually staggered back a step before almost wailing, “Selina!”
He took off, arms thrown wide. It should have been in slow motion. It was such a wonderful scene to witness as the girl swept the boy into her arms and the two laughed as tears streamed down both their faces.
Chewy broke loose from my grip and trotted over as well. She leaned in to sniff Michael and then Selina. It apparently passed her inspection and she returned to me and sat down.
It was then that I realized I’d sort of forgotten somebody. I glanced over my shoulder at Alex. Her hands were planted on her hips, but she wasn’t looking at me. She had tears in her eyes as well as she watched the two children reunite. I gave an inward sigh of relief as I realized that I might not be in trouble after all.
“Are you going to ask us to get out some time soon?” Captain Burrell called from the back of the huge, covered military vehicle.
Crap. I stood up and dusted myself off. “Yeah, come on out.” I turned to see a few of my own people emerge from the brush, all sporting some pretty impressive weaponry.
The truck emptied and Marshawn basically took on the duties of ambassador and host as he started introducing people. The thing was, I saw a few faces of our own that I didn’t recognize. It was obvious that our numbers had jumped a bit in my relatively brief absence.
I started to walk towards the main camp and felt somebody grab my arm. I turned to see Alex. She was wiping the tears from her eyes but smiling.
“Not exactly the welcome home reunion I thought we’d have,” she said as we walked through a copse of trees.
I saw that the trench had come along nicely in my brief absence. There were about a dozen large tents and a handful of small ones as well that had not been here before I left.
I glanced over at Alex and then pointed out the new arrivals. “Umm, so what do we have here?”
“A group that were trying to get away from Oregon City. They had planned to stop here just for the night on their way up to Mount Hood, but once they saw what we had going on, the jumped in to help and are really turning out to be very helpful.” Alex stopped and turned to face me. “They’ve heard of Donnie. I guess he has been very active.” She paused and swallowed. “Please tell me you guys killed him.”
“Nope. And it is worse than we thought,” I blurted. I’d struggled in my mind how I was going to address this during those few quiet moments in the truck as we approached McIver. That was not how I’d intended to let the news be known.
The look on Alex’s face almost broke me. I hadn’t realized how much hope she’d had that things would return to some form of normality.
“Well,” she sniffed, and it was obvious that she was fighting back the tears, at least you’re okay…and you brought that kid back with you. She sure made Michael smile.”
“Has he been okay?” I asked.
“He’s been…Michael.” She shrugged her shoulders and kinda threw her hands up. “He only talks to the dog when you are gone, but he says all this crazy stuff that makes no sense. Half the people think he is some sort of creepy kid with magic powers and the rest tend to just ignore him.”
I didn’t really like either of those options and had to wonder how he would fare if something were to happen to me…or God forbid…to Chewie. She was his lifeline from all appearances.
This wasn’t the first time for cursing myself because I didn’t know the least thing about autism. I heard laughter and barking in that moment as the boy, Chewie, and Selina came racing through the brush and burst out in this old park that was turning into a decent living area.
My eyes roamed over things and I saw three new tiny houses in mid-construction. There were paths being cleared and all sorts of things being put into place that were giving this place a real feeling of community.
And just as quickly, I saw how deficient we were in comparison to what I saw at Don’s compound. Granted, he had a full high school set up to work with and didn’t have to build from scratch. However, I still recalled the way the football field was being turned into a massive garden area. The way the kitchen was being run with what certainly seemed like precision.
Perhaps making an encampment here was a mistake. There were so many places that would be better suited to call home.
Right?
“Hey…Evan?” Alex snapped her fingers in front of me, snapping me out of my gloom. “You okay?”
“Just wondering if I am doing this right.”
Alex stared at me for a moment as if I’d suddenly sprouted a second head. She clucked her tongue and frowned.
“Is there a right way? Did somebody pen a manual or something? I think everybody is flying by the seat of their pants. How can we know if this is right or wrong until it falls apart or works as we hoped when we set it up?” Alex practically scolded.
“But we don’t really have a plan…do we?” I shot back. “I mean, we’re trying to throw up living quarters and dig a deep trench around our place. We don’t have any sort of plan in place for maintaining a sort of self-sufficiency. Everybody is just sort of drifting.”
Alex opened her mouth, but it was a voice behind me that beat her to the punch. “That’s crap, brother.”
I turned to see Marshawn. His scowl was etched deep and he practically stomped over to where Alex and I stood. His eyes flicked to the kids playing keep away with Chewie using a mossy stick. His gaze softened for just a second before returning to me and hardening.
“We have people coming in and finding peace. They step in and help once they get their bearings. We don’t need to point to each person and assign a job because folks are stepping in to help where they see it needed.”
He looked around for a moment until his eyes spied what they were looking for. He pointed past me and I turned.
“Every single person taking a turn on the watch in the towers has volunteered for that spot. There is no set schedule. Yet, people show up and relieve each other. We are never unmanned. Same with the rovers. All volunteers.”
“I thought we had a schedule…a watch leader,” I argued.
“This ain’t the military, man. It’s a bunch of store clerks, office managers, accountants…and music teachers…all coming together to try and carve something out of this mess and make a place that is safe,” Marshawn countered.
“We got incoming!” a voice shouted from somewhere.
In a flash, I watched my camp transform. Suddenly children were being ushered past me to what looked like a big lump of dirt. I saw a very difficult to spot door of sorts open. A handful of men and women started counting as the children passed. Michael grabbed Selina’s hand and led her to it as he fell into line. No surprise, Chewie was right by his side.
The girl went willingly a few steps until she seemed to realize what was happening. She cast a look
over her shoulder at me and I gave her a curt nod.
Meantime, other people were hurrying past with all manner of weapons and all the tower watches were now sporting scoped rifles instead of field glasses. I had no idea when all this had happened.
I vaguely recalled mentioning something about having a safe place for the kids to be kept if we were faced with a herd or raiders. I’d been the one to insist on scoped rifles in the towers. But a lot of what I was seeing were what I only remember as requests and items on a list of things that might be helpful. At some point, it looked as if many of those things had been implemented.
I guess it was like weight loss. You never notice on yourself because you are exposed to yourself every day. But if you look at a before and after photo six months apart, sometimes you have to do a double take.
I shook my head and then felt something shoved into my hands. I looked down to see a rifle. When I looked up, Alex nodded.
“Let’s go see who comes a knockin’ at our door,” Marshawn said.
I followed him through our camp and took notice of people that were now taking cover behind a variety of barricades set up to offer cover.
I made it to the big dirt berm and saw Andrew Greene standing at the top of the ridge. He had binoculars up to his eyes and was waving at some unseen person or persons.
I climbed up beside him and clapped him on the shoulder to let him know I was there. “What’s the story?”
“Group of what appear to be at least fifteen individuals,” Andrew reported. “They rolled up in a pair of pickup trucks. A single member has separated from the group and has closed the distance alone. She is about a hundred yards away and not showing any signs of carrying a weapon.”
I took the binoculars and looked towards the clearing where he pointed. As soon as I spotted the individual, I didn’t need to see her face.
“Lisa Hargrave,” I whispered. “I’ll be a son of a bitch.”
“Who?” I heard Alex ask as I skidded down the berm and started across the open field to where the woman had come to a stop holding a stick with what looked like a pair of white boxers tied to it.
