by Hunt, Jack
When I jumped in the suspension barely moved. It was already squished to its max. I had visions of the back tires being stuck in mud with all that weight, thankfully that wasn’t the case. Dax gunned it before the others who were dragging ass caught up.
“Be nice,” Jess said to me. I rolled my eyes.
She slid back the window on the cab.
“Hey thanks, I thought I was going to become zombie chow back there.”
“What’s your name?”
“Ralph, but my pals call me...”
He paused for a second to catch his breath. Baja jumped on it.
“...dumbass?” Baja added.
Izzy slapped him.
“Shit, Izzy, you need to ease up.”
“My pals call me Ralphie.”
“I would have never guessed that,” Specs muttered.
“Where you from?” Dax yelled from the front. Ralphie stuck his head into the opening, filling what little space there was with skin.
“Wells.”
“You?” he asked.
“Castle Cock,” Baja said, lighting a cigarette.
“Ignore him, he has mental problems,” Izzy said glaring at Baja.
Ralphie’s eyes darted between all of us.
“Wells, Nevada. We’ll be passing through there on the way to Salt Lake City.”
“Not much left. I barely managed to escape.”
Suddenly, Dax slammed the brakes on and jumped out.
“Strip down,” he said to Ralphie.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
I ducked my head out the window.
“Okay, Dax, I know you’ve always been one for the lads. There’s no shame in that, but eh, I think you might want to go on a first date.”
“At least buy him flowers,” Baja added.
Dax rolled his eyes. “I’m checking for bites, morons.”
“I’m not bitten.”
Dax motioned with his Glock for him to get out of the back. Once again we had to feel our stomachs fly up into our throats as Ralphie hopped off the back of the truck. He glanced at Jess, Izzy, and Caitlin and went a deep shade of red.
“Dax, is this really necessary?” Izzy asked.
Dax ignored her. His eyes were fixed on Ralphie who was sweating and looking dark around the eyes. He had a point. We had no idea if one of those Z’s had taken a chunk out of him. We were surprised that he had even managed to outrun them.
“Do you even remember seeing him by the side of the road?” Specs asked me.
“What do you mean?” I said quietly.
“If I wasn’t mistaken he just appeared out of nowhere.”
While we were talking Ralphie had begun stripping down to his tighty-whiteys. Baja started swirling his groin around while hollering, “Key the music. Yeah! Magic Mike is in the house. Bust a move.”
“Sit the hell down,” Dax yelled.
I think I actually caught Izzy smirk which only made Ralphie go a deeper shade of red.
Dax walked around him.
“Like what you see?” I shouted to Dax. Dax flipped me the bird.
“Skiddddyyy,” Baja yelled, referring to the brown trace of shit on the poor guy’s underpants.
“Baja, I swear you have the mind of a twelve-year-old.”
“Sweet cheeks, admit it. You have a thing for me,” Baja replied back.
Izzy screwed up her face and threw up her middle finger.
“All right. Sorry to make you do that. But we have to be careful,” Dax said.
Ralphie pulled his clothes on like an embarrassed young virgin and Dax got back into the truck.
“Here. You might want this.” Jess shoved her coat through the window. It was cold outside. Just with the windows down we were getting chilled. I had visions of arriving in Salt Lake City and Ralphie frozen to death in the back of the truck. As soon as he was back in, Dax floored it.
I looked over his shoulder and could see we were down to a quarter of a tank of gas. Definitely not enough to get us to the city.
“We need to stop for gas.”
Dax glanced down. “We’ll try the next town.”
“There’s nothing there. I saw it on my way out. It’s been looted,” Ralphie said. “In fact, you’re better off giving Wells a wide berth too. A lot of asshats there.”
Dax eyed him in his rearview mirror. I could tell he was skeptical of our new addition. We all were. It wasn’t that we weren’t open to have another with us. In all honesty it was a good thing. Baja had leaned back and asked me what I thought of having him tagging along. I told him it was one more person to fire a gun. He replied, “Yeah. I guess in the worst-case scenario, we could feed him to the Z’s and make a run for it.” He grinned. I could always trust Baja to find some odd angle.
We drove a few more miles until we came across the town that Ralphie was on about. It was called Halleck, Nevada. He wasn’t kidding. The place was a total ghost town. It consisted of two buildings: a post office and a gas station. Dax slowed down to a crawl while we took in the sight of the burnt-out post office.
“Shit, and there was me thinking of sending a postcard back to Castle Rock,” Specs said.
The gas station was in a far worse state. A truck had been driven right into the single gas pump they had. What remained of it lay black and burnt. The building had been leveled by the explosion. None of the charred bodies appeared to be moving.
“You think we have enough to make it to Wells?”
“How far is it from here, Ralphie?” Dax asked.
He pushed his face through the open slot like an eager pug dog.
“It’s a thirty-minute drive.”
Dax sniffed hard. “I guess we should have enough. There’s gas stations there, yeah?”
“How are you going to get gas out of them if there is no electricity?” Ralphie asked.
“Couple of ways. Open the covers where they refill the tanks. Unless the underground containers have been destroyed, there is going to be some inside. Or you can get the side covers off the gas pumps and then slip a hose and siphon out that way,” Specs said as he continued to try the portable radio for a signal.
“I just think you’d be better off going around Wells.”
That was it. Dax stopped the vehicle and turned in his seat.
“What are you not telling us?”
“Just saying. It’s probably best you avoid Wells.”
“What is there?”
Ralphie gulped. His eyes dropped.
“You want to walk?” Dax said.
“Dax,” I said.
“No,” he spat back. “If we are driving into an ambush. I want to know.”
“It’s not an ambush. But let’s just say the people have gone a little crazy there.”
“How crazy?”
Ralphie slumped back down, not wanting to answer that.
“Let me handle this,” I said. Dax shook his head.
I hopped out of the truck and came around to the side. I gazed out at the desert that was now covered in snow. The clouds had come down so it looked almost like a fine mist was hovering above the ground. I leaned against the truck, nodded to Jess and she pulled the sliding rear window closed.
“Listen. We’ve lost a lot of people: family, friends. Forgive my brother for being a little cautious but you aren’t the first person we have allowed to get close only to have them screw us over. Now if there is anything we need to know before driving through that town, you need to tell us now, because…” I scratched the side of my head. “I might let it slide. But my brother, he’s liable to put a bullet in your head if he thinks for one moment you are up to something.”
“I’m not. I just don’t want to go back there.”
“But you knew we were heading that way.”
“Yeah, but I thought you might be taking a different route.”
“Ralphie, do you have any family?”
His eyes dropped. He shook his head.
“How did you lose them?”
> He cleared his throat, looked out, and shivered slightly.
“My father was the first to turn.”
He had this faraway look in his eyes as if he was recalling everything that had taken place.
“I had two sisters, one brother. All of them died. I saw him kill them all. I can still hear their screams.” He paused and looked down. “I couldn’t take it. My sister was calling out my name, screaming for me to come and help. I could have saved her and I didn’t. I ran. I just ran. I couldn’t take hearing her call for me.”
“Man…” I trailed off.
“I know, I’m a coward, you don’t need to say it.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think you’re a coward. We’ve all lost people. None of us were prepared for this.”
“Did you run? I mean. Leave anyone behind?” he asked.
I thought of Matt. There was nothing I could do for him. I didn’t see him get bit and I know it wasn’t him that I shot. But I could still see his face. Still hear the sound of his cry in my ears. The fear that had overtaken me. The impulse to survive was overwhelming.
I didn’t answer his question.
“Is the place overrun with Z’s?”
“No.” He wiped his nose of a tear that had fallen. “There are others there. Vile fuckers.”
“Like?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want talk about. Just trust me. You don’t want to drive through there.”
I studied his face, trying to gauge if he was lying or not. I didn’t get a sense that he was being deceitful. He had experienced something that had shaken him to the core. Perhaps it was just the shock of seeing his family die or maybe it was something far worse.
I slipped back into the truck and for a few seconds I didn’t say anything.
“So?” Dax asked.
“Well. We are nearly out of gas. Even if we wanted to go around the town we couldn’t. It’s the closest town from here.”
Izzy leaned over and squinted at the gas gauge.
“We’ll be lucky if we even make it there,” she said.
“What did he say?” Dax asked inquisitively.
“It doesn’t matter, Dax. We just need to be ready. Get in, get some gas, and get out.”
Everyone stared at me then looked at Ralphie who was now huddled into a ball on the back of the truck bed.
“Maybe I’ll take a turn out there,” Specs said. With that he jumped out, Ralphie glanced up, Specs thumbed for him to get in the truck. As we rolled out of Halleck our minds were no longer on gas. We were preoccupied by what was to be found in Wells, Nevada.
TOWN OF THE RISING IDIOTS
We arrived in Wells, Nevada, about an hour after midday. Prior to that we constantly had to swerve our way around more abandoned vehicles. It was like a mass exodus had occurred and no one had made it. By the time we arrived the truck must have been coasting on gas fumes as the needle was in the red.
Wells, like many other small towns in Nevada, looked as if someone had built a wide road through the middle. All the buildings and homes were either side. Ralphie looked nervous as we rolled in.
“Keep your eyes peeled,” Dax said.
I checked how much ammo I had left. It wasn’t much.
“Ralphie, are there any gun stores in Wells?” Jess asked.
“One, but there’s nothing left. They took it.”
“Who took it?”
“Never mind.”
He returned to gazing out. Ralphie had crunched down in his seat. The windows were tinted but he still looked worried. I pushed open the back window.
“How you doing back there, Specs?”
“Fucking freezing.”
“We’ll soon get you warmed up.”
As we drove down the main street, we all noticed something peculiar. There were no Z’s or bodies anywhere.
“I thought you said this place was overrun,” Dax piped up.
“It was.”
“Why aren’t there any Z’s?”
“Maybe they wandered off into the desert,” Izzy added.
“And took all the dead with them? No, there should be bodies. At least a few.”
“Take a left here. The gas station is on the right.” Ralphie pointed.
It was beyond strange. We passed by several pristine-looking vans with blacked-out windows as we pulled into the gas station. Not getting out of the truck for a few minutes, we looked around cautiously. Something didn’t feel right about the place. It was quiet but nothing had been damaged. No burnt-out cars, no smashed windows.
“How many live here?”
“About thirteen hundred.”
Dax was the first one out. “Specs, you give me a hand fueling up. Baja, Johnny, go inside and see what you can scavenge for supplies.”
He glanced at Izzy and Jess but they already knew they were to keep an eye on anyone approaching. I stretched my legs and felt my muscles unwind as I got out. I badly needed to take a piss.
Which reminds me. You’re probably wondering. How do folks relieve themselves in an apocalypse? No mystery there. Up until that point we just pulled off to the side of the road and went behind a vehicle. One of us would watch out for Z’s while the other took care of business. There was no toilet paper so we used old newspaper, rags, or whatever we could find. Anything was better than using our bare hands. Which I might add, surprisingly, newspaper is actually softer than that spiky shit they gave us in high school. Anyway, point made.
Dax and Specs began working on retrieving gas. To their surprise the pump worked.
“How is that possible?”
“Backup generator,” Specs said.
“No gas station runs off a generator.”
“These must.”
Dax raised his eyebrows. He swept the empty street and continued filling up the truck.
* * *
“Something feels really off about this,” Baja muttered.
“You’re telling me,” I said before glancing at Baja and then realizing he was referring to a dubious-looking sandwich in his hand. We had picked up a stash of food from some of the vehicles but not all of it was edible. Most of it had gone mushy or turned a shade of green. Baja wasn’t picky. He continued eating what would have made me throw up. I was just hoping we would find some packages of beef jerky inside.
The bell above the door let out a shrill as we stepped inside. The entire store was in pristine condition. No one had looted it. There wasn’t even one item overturned.
“Shit,” Baja tossed the half-eaten excuse for a sandwich on the floor and began dashing around the two aisles snatching up packets of chips, candy bars and… he jammed his head under a slushy mixer that was still whirling around. Power? It had to running on a backup generator. I glanced over at the counter expecting to see someone but there was no one there.
“Hello?” I called out.
With a mouthful of slushy he tried to speak. “Oh you’ve got to try some of this.”
I didn’t reply. I was still waiting for a Z to pop out or someone else.
“Oh my god,” Baja stared wide-eyed at something on the shelf. “Stop the truck, suck me backwards, and call me Krispin,” he uttered before disappearing behind an aisle of shelves and emerging slowly holding a box of Pop-Tarts and some beef jerky in the air like lost treasure.
“I told you. I knew things were on the upswing. This is good, right? It means there’s probably more towns like this. You know, ones where the virus hasn’t hit.” He paused. “Pop-Tarts or jerky?”
“Whatever, I’m gonna take a whiz,” I replied, walking slowly out back. Baja opened a bag of beef jerky and started tossing chunks of meat back as though he wouldn’t be getting any more for some time.
“Yeah, sure thing, take your time.”
I glanced outside the window. Things seemed peaceful. Too peaceful. I hung a left and went down the short corridor. I looked over the photos that hung on the wall. One of them had a certificate and a small picture of a balding man. It read, Tom Knotts, licensed owner.<
br />
Where did you go, Tom?
I eased the door that led into the washroom. I peered inside without stepping in. I still had my Glock in hand ready to shoot the first Z that came at me. There had to be some nearby.
It was warm inside. Clean and smelled like bleach as if someone had recently cleaned it up. There were three stalls. Two of them were closed, one was partly open. I readied my gun and kicked the first open. It was empty. I took a deep breath and checked the next. Same again.
“Huh!”
I pushed my handgun back into the holster on my right thigh. I relieved myself, then wandered over to the sink. A quick twist and water gushed out. Oh, beauty!
I heaped handfuls over my head and rubbed my face clean. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I had dark circles beneath my eyes from a lack of sleep. I thought about what it would be like to return to normality. To no longer be worried about Z’s. To be able to sleep without the risk of being attacked in the night.
As I dried my hands on a sheet of brown paper towel I peered through a small rectangular window covered in condensation. I could see they had finished fueling up. Specs and Dax were laughing about something. Jess was kneeling in the truck bed, slowly sweeping her assault rifle. Izzy was near the front with Caitlin. Those two had come a long way in a short time. I was worried about Caitlin. She hadn’t spoken a word since her sister’s death. I was unsure if she would survive the long haul. Death was hard to cope with, but in time you healed. Trauma? None of us knew how to deal with that.
I scanned the street. It was hard to imagine that Wells hadn’t been touched by the outbreak. Ralphie said Z’s had been here. But where was the evidence? Where was everyone?
I was about to leave the washroom when I caught a glimpse of movement across the street. At first I thought it was my eyes playing tricks on me. With little sleep, and constantly looking for the dead, your eyes started to see things that weren’t there. I had already seen my father three times. It was creepy, disturbing, and painful to see.
Of course, it was just my mind replaying events. But it seemed so real.
I came close to the window and looked again. Across the other side of the street was an all-you-could-eat buffet restaurant. The sign above the store read, Black Dragon. I was sure I saw someone beyond the window. Now as I looked there was no one there.
