Nicole's Odyssey (Human Extinction Level Loss Book 1)

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Nicole's Odyssey (Human Extinction Level Loss Book 1) Page 15

by Philip McClimon


  He tried to smile and Nicole tried to laugh.

  “The timer is set?” Nicole asked.

  Paul nodded.

  “Jordan all tucked away?” she asked.

  Paul looked to the bus. Nicole placed her hand on Paul’s shoulder and squeezed.

  “Okay, See you in a minute,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Paul said.

  Nicole turned and made her way down the ramp. Billy stood holding the rope in his hand staring at the golf cart. Nicole came up and the two looked at each other.

  “Sure am glad I didn’t run you off, Billy,” she said.

  Billy smiled. “I’m glad too,” he said.

  “You’ve turned into a darned good skater, Billy, just do what you know how to do,” she said.

  Billy smiled. “I will,” he said.

  Nicole smiled at him, then turned and disappeared down the corridor. She came around the first bend and saw Sam standing with his foot in the door, rifle at the ready. The two nodded to each other as Nicole stopped. Sam looked at her and swallowed hard.

  “Don’t worry, we’ve got this. You’re a good shot. Hit your marks and get out,” she said.

  Sam nodded. Nicole slapped him on the shoulder then turned to go, then stopped and looked back at him. “The only thing you need to worry about is not scratching my car when I let you drive it. You do that, then you’ve got real trouble,” she said.

  Sam smiled then turned and looked down the corridor, readying himself.

  Around the next curve, she saw Walt at the ready. She stopped and they looked at each other.

  “I’d rather be drinking one of your smoothies about now…” she said.

  Walt smiled. “I hear ya, man. Hey, you know, we’re gonna make this. I gotta Bob Marley song running through my head right now. Bob always talks to me when I get concerned, you know,” Walt said.

  Nicole looked at Walt. “What’s Bob telling you right now?” she asked.

  “He’s telling me, every little ting’s gonna be alright,” he said.

  Nicole nodded. Walt got ready and Nicole continued down the corridor to her position.

  Paul stood alone facing the Dead. He had synchronized his watch to the timer on the doors. He had just seconds to go, but it felt to him like an eternity. He jumped when his watch began to beep and he heard the gears began to wind. He watched as the bottom of the doors in front of him began to rise. Instantly, the sound proofing vanished and the growing crescendo that had always been there began to reach his ears. The moans and howls of the hungry Dead assaulted him. Not immediately realizing what was happening, the Dead clamored at the rising doors. Paul turned and looked behind him at the second set of doors and saw the same thing. He turned and tried to keep his eyes on both sets at once. Where would the breach happen first? As the doors rose in unison, the Dead discovered their reprieve and surged in from both sides. Paul took a breath.

  “This is it!” he screamed and mashed the button on the air horn. This got their attention, and from both sides they surged toward him. Paul continued to sound the horn as he ran down the ramp. The Dead, like the closing of the Red Sea after Moses, became a single horde. They turned toward the ramp and pursued Paul.

  Paul looked to Billy as he jumped aboard the cart. In his panic, Paul kept the button on the horn mashed, the result was a continuous deafening blare. Billy bent his knees and readied himself. A grisly hand came within inches of his shoulder, as the rope tightened and Billy was sped away. Paul pressed the pedal and the Dead followed. Billy wobbled unsteadily on his feet, fear seized him as he felt like he was going to fall. He tried to relax and looked over to his right. He imagined Jordan there, flying gracefully by his side, smiling at him. He relaxed, the tension going out of his legs. All other sensory intrusions were tuned out. There was only him and Jordan, flying.

  As Paul rounded the first curve, he saw Sam. He saw Sam’s eyes grow large as he approached. Behind Billy, three runners were gaining. As Paul sped past, Sam found his marks and fired. Two shots in the head of each of the leaders dropped them, buying Billy precious feet of safety. Sam saw Billy smiling, looking peaceful as he flew by, not seeming to even see him. As Billy passed him, Sam ducked inside the door, slamming it shut behind him as the Dead poured past. Sam turned and ran.

  Paul kept his head down as he raced down the next straightaway. Behind him, four more runners had taken the lead. Walt readied himself, and with a positive island song on his lips began to drop the pursuing Dead. As soon as Billy was past, Walt ducked inside the door and away.

  Paul wanted to look behind him. He knew that the shooting meant that some of the Dead had gotten close, must have almost gotten Billy. It was everything he could do to not just look behind him once. He pushed the pedal, that was already mashed to the floor, even harder. The wail of the air horn screamed out and echoed off the walls. As he rounded the third turn, he saw Nicole aiming. She was as still as a stone, as her rifle fired. Paul saw the fire jump from the barrel as Nicole squeezed the trigger. A wave of the Dead dropped behind Billy. The ones behind dropped back even further as the ones in front tripped and fell over the fallen. Nicole turned and ran through the door, shutting it behind her.

  As Paul sped down the last straight away, he knew that they were alone with the Dead now. He gripped the wheel and steeled himself for what came next.

  As he approached the last turn, he knew there would be no shooters, that he would have to slow down to make the turn, that Billy would have to be in the cart, but that there was nothing he could do about it if he wasn’t. He looked up and saw the writing that Nicole had put on the wall. “Go Fast”. Paul felt the cart bounce, as if something had hit it from behind. Fear seized his heart as he thought the worst. Against everything he knew he should do, he turned to see what death awaited him. He saw Billy sitting on the back seat holding on. Behind him was only empty corridor. Paul turned back around and saw the field entrance up ahead. He let up on the pedal, tapped the brake and turned the wheel. The cart turned but the Dead had left a slick of viscera behind them and the cart slid on it. Rather than continuing up the ramp, the cart skidded into the left side wall of the field entrance. Paul stomped on the accelerator but could get no traction. The wheels spun under the cart. Billy saw what was happening and thought of getting out and pushing until he remembered he was wearing skates. He looked at Paul and the two locked eyes. Paul’s face flashed resignation to their fate. Billy saw it too and his heart fell. An image of Jordan flashed in his mind, the knowledge that she would not be his first kiss, his first love, and it made him angry. Beneath him the wheels of the cart continued to spin. Down the corridor, the first of the Dead began to round the curve. Billy looked down and saw the spray of gore being kicked away by the spinning tires. It came to him in a flash and he began to jump up and down on the back of the cart. As he came down, his weight forced the tires into the gore and onto the concrete.

  On the field, Walt sat behind the wheel of the bus looking in his mirrors for the first sign of Paul and Billy. He revved the engine to keep it hot. Jordan looked out the back window for her father. In the GTO, Nicole did the same. Jordan pressed her face against the rear window of the bus. Several seconds passed.

  “I see them!” she shouted as she caught sight of the cart nosing out of the field entrance.

  “Why aren’t they coming?!” she cried as she watched the cart slip and slide up the ramp.

  On the cart, Billy continued to hop up and down. With each bounce the wheels would catch, sending the cart lurching forward. As it reached the top, a final bounce from Billy got the traction they needed and the cart shot out of the entrance and hit the field. Paul shouted and for the first time noticed he was still pressing the button on the air horn. He tossed it away as he sped toward the waiting bus.

  Paul and Billy jumped from the cart and climbed aboard the bus.

  “Yeah, Man!” Walt shouted as he worked the lever and closed the sliding doors.

  The GTO shot forward and sped out through the
open doors. It hit the remains of the Dead and the car’s tires immediately lost traction. It spun a rooster tail of gore behind it as its tires spun, the forward momentum alone sending the big car sliding out of control onto dry pavement. When the tires got traction, Nicole spun the wheel and came to a screeching stop. Nicole jumped from the car and ran to the doors. The bus was not so fortunate. Without significant forward momentum from a fast acceleration it came to a stop in the middle of the sea of dismemberment. The bus’s tires spun, making a shrieking noise. Nicole unslung her gun and went to the rear of the bus which was under the door and still inside the stadium. Sam came up behind her, his rifle at the ready. Several of the Dead had caught their trail and had come up the ramp. Nicole and Sam began to fire, dropping them on the field.

  “Get that bus moving!” she shouted as more of the Dead began to emerge onto the field and come towards them.

  Inside Walt stomped the gas and raced the engine to no avail. Paul hugged his daughter and looked from Walt to Nicole and Sam out the window. He saw more of the Dead hit the field and Nicole and Sam losing ground to them. Paul sat Jordan down and grabbed a rifle.

  “I’ve got to help them, baby girl. I’ll be right back,” he told her. Jordan screamed and reached for her father as Paul ran down the aisle and off the bus. Billy held Jordan’s hand as she cried.

  Paul joined Nicole and Sam as they fired on the increasing number of Dead that were pouring out onto the field.

  “I’m out!” Nicole shouted as she whipped the rifle onto her back and pulled a pistol.

  Sam covered her as she readied her aim. Inside the bus, Billy listened to the tires spin, heard Jordan crying, and the guns firing. His eyes lit up as he realized what needed to happen. He pulled Jordan after him to the rear of the bus. Their added weight dropped the rear of the bus a little and the sound of the tires dropped an octave and moved forward several inches.

  Outside, Paul, Sam and Nicole did not notice as they continued to shoot. Billy banged on the glass and tried to get their attention but they were not turning around. Billy looked to the front of the bus and shouted at Walt. “Honk your horn, Walt!”

  Walt looked in his mirror and saw Billy gesturing to him. He began to lay on the horn.

  Outside, Nicole heard the horn and turned. She looked up as she saw Billy and Jordan gesturing to the rear of the bus. It took a second for her to realize what they meant. She turned to Paul.

  “Jump on the rear of the bus!”

  Paul looked to her, then the rear of the bus. He slung his rifle and grabbed the door handle and tried to haul himself up.

  “Help him, Sam!” Nicole shouted as she holstered her spent pistol and drew her last one.

  “What about you?!” Sam asked.

  Nicole did not respond as she picked her marks. Sam ran up and grabbed Paul’s foot, pushing him up onto the bumper before climbing aboard himself. As they held on, the rear of the bus dropped. The screaming from the tires fell silent as they got traction and the bus lumbered out of the stadium and came to a stop by the GTO.

  Walt came running out with a rifle on his back and another in his hand. He stood beside Nicole and Sam and joined their firing squad. Paul rushed past them into the stadium. The Dead caught his scent and made for him, but Nicole, Sam, and Walt cut them down. Paul entered the code to close the doors and then raced outside. He grabbed the extra rifle from Walt and they all began to fire on the groups of the Dead still pouring out onto the field. The doors lowered and Nicole, Sam, Paul, and Walt had to stop firing. Fifteen of the Dead raced towards them. They slammed into the massive doors as it hit the ground and came to a stop. From the inside, the Dead clawed and tried to tear their way out.

  Nicole and Sam shouted then slapped hands, as Walt and Paul clasped each other in a hug and almost cried in relief. Jordan came running out. Paul turned and saw her just as she fell into his arms. Billy came skating up. The group welcomed him into their embrace as they all shouted and cried.

  Nicole took a spraycan of yellow caution paint from a cargo pocket and walked up to the massive doors. As the Dead pounded trying to reach her, she painted a large skull, like on the signs posted outside of the city. She backed away and looked at it.

  “A warning to others…” she said.

  Walt looked across the street. “You know, now that the Dead are all in there and we are out here, we could probably do our shopping in peace, man,” he said.

  Everyone smiled.

  “Good idea, Walt. I could use a smoothie about now,” Nicole said.

  “Alright, man,” Walt said as they all turned and crossed the street, heading for the All-Mart. As they made their way over, a look of shock came over Jordan’s face.

  “Oh no! I left my MP3 player inside and it had my song on it!”

  Paul looked at her, his relief at maybe never having to hear the song again giving way to his fatherly instincts.

  “It’s okay, baby. Maybe they have a copy inside the All-Mart,” he said.

  Jordan’s face brightened just a bit, as she joined her father and followed the others inside.

  Twenty-Eight

  Nicole sat in the passenger seat of her GTO. She extended her right arm out of the window and felt the wind whip past her, caressing her arm. The breeze was warm on her face and it tickled its way through her hair.

  She felt relaxed, confident, hopeful. They had raided the All-Mart and were well supplied for a while. She let herself enjoy the ride.

  Next to her, driving, was Sam. Back at the All-Mart, when Nicole told him he could drive, he had searched the shelves in the automotive section for a pair of fingerless driving gloves. Not finding any, he got a pair from the garden center and cut off the fingers. He wore them as he held the wheel and stared out down the road. The big engine purred and Sam dreamed of leather clad apocalyptic warriors cruising across the barren land.

  Nicole looked over at the speedometer. Sam was inching up past eighty.

  “Alright, Max. Ease up there. I doubt Walt’s bus can keep up,” she said.

  Sam awoke from his daydream and looked down at the speedometer. “Sorry… sorry,” he offered.

  He looked in the rear view and saw that the bus was a pin prick in the mirror. Its headlights flashed on and off as Walt tried to get Sam’s attention.

  “Shit, sorry,” he said again, slowing the big car down.

  ☣

  As the sun began to set, they came up on an exit that had a campground. Nicole looked over at Sam.

  “We should stop for the night. Turn in here,” she said.

  Sam nodded and headed for the exit ramp. Nicole leaned out her window and signaled Walt. He flashed his lights in understanding and followed.

  They cruised through the campground. There were several campers and motor-homes parked on concrete pads. Many were still connected to water and electric. They parked their vehicles in the circle in front of the office, side by side with the front of their vehicles pointed out toward the exit. Everyone got out and stretched.

  “This seems a good a place as any to stop, I figure. We need to walk the camp, though. We don’t want any surprises. No splitting up. We encounter any Dead, close in, shoulder to shoulder in a circle with your back to the inside, okay? We don’t get caught unawares, and we don’t get separated,” she said.

  Nicole reached in the GTO and retrieved a satchel with a long strap.

  “Jordan, until we get you qualified on the rifle and pistol, you’re our reloader, okay?” Nicole said.

  She handed Jordan the satchel, three boxes of ammo, and three full magazines.

  “You’ll stand in the center of the circle. Dump those extra rounds in the satchel and reload the empties we hand you, got it?” Nicole asked.

  Jordan nodded as she slung the satchel over her shoulder.

  “Good girl. Okay, let's check it out,” Nicole said.

  With their rifles at the ready, they moved out through the campground.

  An hour later, they had swept through the entire campgrou
nd and found it was completely abandoned. They returned to their vehicles and began to unpack for the night. Nicole looked at the circular driveway in front of the office. The center of the circle was grass.

  “Rather than get too far from the vehicles, I think we should just stay right here. I know we cleared the grounds, but if we have to leave, we don’t want to have to run too far, you know?” Nicole said.

  Everyone agreed and began to set up in the grassy circle.

  With full stomachs they reclined around the circle. Jordan had begged for a campfire and it had finally been agreed that a small fire would not attract too much attention, shielded as it was by their bodies and the parked vehicles. The tiny flame cast its warm glow across contented faces. With the relaxed feeling of satiated hunger and the hypnotic dancing flames licking through kindling, they all were lost in their own thoughts.

  Walt rose without saying a word and went to his bus. All eyes turned to him but did not question where he was going. A minute later, he returned and took his seat again by the fire. In his hands was a guitar.

  “I didn’t know you played, Walt,” Sam said.

  “Oh yeah, man. I taught myself, you know,” Walt said.

  Everyone looked at Walt and remained silent as he readied himself. Walt plucked the strings and tuned the guitar for a while. When he got it where he wanted it, he cleared his throat.

  “Today was a good day for us. We got out of that place, got us some supplies. We got us a place to go and we got each other, man,” he said.

  Walt looked around at the group, his goofy smile was contagious and they all smiled back.

  “Times are tough, but today was a good day. I want to play a song, man. It’s called Buckets of Rain.” he said.

  Walt began to play. The music was soft and low and had a soothing rhythm. The words told of the troubles that can come into a life, the blessings too. He sang of the joy that two people in love can share and the little things about each that can make them love each other more. He sang of the preciousness of life and loss, and the simple truths of companionship, doing what must be done when the time came. As his fingers danced across the strings, the others bobbed their heads and stared into the fire. Not forgotten was the death and ruin all around, but the words comforted them with the assurance of hope and love within every storm.

 

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