Troy followed the jeep as they set back out into the night, following the road further away from the city. Alex just hoped Troy would remember the way to his family’s farm. It seemed like months ago that they left to head out to a new start. He couldn’t believe it was just yesterday morning.
Troy told Lindell the rough direction to head towards. They would drive for another hour before stopping for the night. They all needed some rest. The last few days was taking a toll on them physically, emotionally, and mentally.
As they drove along the dark highway, every now and then an infected person would race from the tree line and charge at the jeep – having been summoned by the sound of the loud engines. They were no threat. The vehicles where moving too fast. The creatures ran directly at the fast moving objects and were caught by the bonnet or under the tires.
At one intersection, there was a horde of about twenty infected around a tipped over bus.
Seeing the group from a distance in the headlights, Lindell eased back on the gas and let Troy overtake him. Troy then proceeded to gather speed and smash right through the group, splattering a handful up the verge.
Terrance didn’t waste any bullets as the jeep sped past. The remaining creatures turned their attention to what was left of their companions.
In the distance, Alex could see a vast fire. It looked like miles of fields were set ablaze. There was no way of knowing if it was set by man or nature. It was too cold and wet for forest fires, but it could have been started by a lightning strike. He was amazed it burned in the torrential rain. He was surprised at how heavy the storm was, as if mother nature was trying to wash all the blood away.
Alex watched the flames in the distance as they lit up the heavy clouds a blood red.
Maybe it’s some kind of factory or military installation, possibly a town, or even a city on fire?
Years ago, he watched a documentary on what would happen if humans just vanished overnight. There was no explanation as to why; it just showed what would happen if they did. How factories that needed regulating would overheat and explode. What caught his attention was the nuclear power plants. They needed to be regulated closely. The programme stated the water that surrounded the core would overheat and evaporate, allowing the fission uranium bars to go critical, resulting in a nuclear meltdown and explosion. Vast sections of land around the nuclear power planets would become nuclear wastelands.
He stared at the distant flames lighting up the sky a warm rosy red. Then as the miles past beneath them he watched it fade in the rearview mirror.
He wondered if it was a nuclear power plant that had exploded, taking out miles of countryside.
Is the rain radioactive? Surely, we would have heard an explosion of that magnitude? Then again, we have been distracted as of late.
Up ahead the jeep was pulling into a gas station. Troy slowly pulled in behind them.
Great, a building in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by fields. We know how this normally turns out.
119
Emma, Bachman, and Peter
In a maintenance shed
The underground bunker
Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania
The three of them were soaking wet, but alive. They hid in a building down next to a park. The large lake Emma had spotted while checking out the windows, as they made their way through the building, had saved their lives. They hit the water hard, but they survived with scrapes and bruises, after just missing a section of large ornamental boulders. They were lucky the lake was deep enough to absorb the impact.
Bachman still clutched the axe. He wasn’t aware he was still holding it when he dragged himself up the muddy ponds bank. At least the water was clean, and it washed away the smell of piss off his foot and blood and guts off his clothing.
Peter sniffed continuously, as if making a point.
They both ignored Peter as they stood close to the only window, checking the surrounding area. They stood in a small concrete shed, that was filled with spades and rakes and hoses – obviously a section put aside for gardening equipment. There was a small fridge with sandwiches in, and a few soda cans. They ate whoever’s food it was, and downed the drinks, while silently thanking whoever left it there. It wasn’t much, but it was needed and appreciated.
Emma had splinters in her hands from the table she used to shatter the window. She painstakingly pulled them out without a sound. She now held onto a dangerous looking long handled edging knife that had what looked like a pendulum guillotine blade on the end of a long pole.
Bachman stuck with the axe – it was solid and he felt comfortable with it.
Peter gripped a rake in his long thin hands. When Emma pointed out there was other tools that would be more useful, he stated, “If it’s good enough for Pigsy, then it’s good enough for me.”
When Emma gave him a long, penetrating stare, he explained that Pigsy was the Zhu Bajie that traveled with the legendary Monkey King.
Emma had left him stood holding his rake, as she walked over to the window while shaking her head and muttering, “I will be amazed if you survive another hour. Bloody Pigsy!”
She wandered over to Bachman who was staring out of the window, as she pulled the last splinter from her left palm.
“So, if Peter is correct then that direction is where Zone 12 is located.” Bachman pointed to a collection of tall buildings which were in the way. They couldn’t see any creatures from their location, but it didn’t mean they weren’t around. The pods were herding them all to the platform, but they may have left a few around, just in case. However, they could see streams of black spores pouring from smashed windows, as they continued to gather way up at the apex of the towering vaulted ceiling.
Emma looked like a drowned rat. She had used the small sheds toilet and wrung the suit out. She had to use the toilet due to not wanting to stand in front of the two men naked. She never wore underwear due to it rubbing. She never thought it would be a problem. She never expected to be in this kind of situation. Not that she wore underwear; she had the adult nappy on, that she had to discard because it swelled up with lake water.
Life in the military run bunker was dull and boring. Each day was the same as the last. She was worried she was going to die from boredom. Now she craved the tedium – the normality.
I should be careful for what I wish for, she mused.
She was also worried about her parents, and has been for a while. However, there was nothing she could do about them in here. One situation at a time. The burning question about whether her family were alive was what was keeping her going.
“I am right,” Peter stated from across the room, as he experimentally swung the rake around in what looked like complicated patterns. He missed shelves and equipment by mere inches, due to luck, not skill. Peter used the toilet after Emma and removed his adult diaper also. He came out complaining of adult nappy rash.
Neither commented.
“It’s our only hope,” Peter remarked. “There is no other way for the three of us to kill all these… these… things, without help. The Furnace is our only chance for success.”
“We are not saying the plan won’t work, I’m saying the problem is getting there,” Bachman said as he scrutinized some rustling bushes around the edge of the pool.
“There is potentially hundreds, if not thousands of those creatures out there. Literally every human that was in this base at the time the spores escaped into the air system could have been turned.”
Emma tried her best to wring water from her long hair, which draped around her shoulders. Her hair band flew off when she hit the water.
Bachman stared at the bushes over by the ponds edge. A few plants were swaying from side to side. He could just make out the edge of a metal grid in the grass.
He knew they were exhausted. It has been a long, stressful day, to say the least.
“I think we should rest up here for twenty minutes or so, to catch our breath. Else we are going to be useless. And maybe,” he
said staring at the metal cover, “we don’t have to make our way via the streets after all.”
120
Frank, and the others
In a gas station
Just outside New York City
Frank watched Terrance dig two holes with the army shovel from the back of the jeep. Frank’s back ached just watching him. Terrance continued to dig, even when the rain started up again. He wouldn’t let anyone else help him with the chore, as if it was penance in some way. Two graves started to form in the earth, one after the other. They wouldn’t be six feet deep, just enough to stop the animals from digging them up, or the creature from getting at them. He allowed Frank to form two crosses from some smashed shelves.
Once Terrance finished he wouldn’t let anyone help him put the two female bodies into the holes either. He gently laid them to rest, as if softly laying them in a bed. He didn’t shovel the mud down onto the bodies, instead he used his hands to pull and scoop the mud down. When he finished he knelt in the rain, patting the mounds with his large hands.
Frank then stood beside the graves and said a few words. He couldn’t read from his bible due to the heavy rain. The words were burned into his mind; he had said them so many times over the years.
The only thing we have in common, he thought. We all die, no matter who we are – rich or poor. Good or bad, and sadly, old or young.
Alex, Troy, and Lindell stayed back under the overhanging gas stations covering. Naomi had locked herself in the toilet an hour ago and hadn’t come out since. Tierra kept Dante inside, stating he had already seen too much death.
The gas station nestled on the side of a quiet road, a road long ago abandoned by the masses as they used the new interstate. It had survived by selling bait – a large river flowed beside the road. They also hired out boats and charged drivers a fee for using their parking lot for the day or weekend while they fished. A large dock extended into the wide river. A few boats were tied to awnings.
The station was ransacked. Everything of use was gone or smashed up.
Lindell did manage to manually pump gas from the underground tankers, after he removed the covering of a gas pump and used an emergency handle. Luckily, it was an old style station, with dated pumps. If it had fitted a new system, they would have no way of getting gas from below ground.
They filled both vehicles with fuel and found some containers that would hold more. At least gas wouldn’t be a problem for a while. They secured the gas on the roof of the truck, away from everyone so the fumes wouldn’t make them sick. They also put three containers in the back on the jeep.
Luckily, the power was on, and the overhanging cover flooded the area in artificial light. The sound of the heavy rain hitting the large metal covering echoed throughout the station, creating a dull humming sound.
The truck was parked under the large metal covering. However, they would sleep inside the building.
The jeep was parked across the front on the structure, so someone could be stationed behind it all night. The river was a good protection – nothing would come from that direction, due to how powerful the water was flowing because of the rain.
The problem was the glass front, which had been smashed weeks ago. The shop section was a ransacked mess. Shelves were tossed around, with leaves and dust having blown in, along with pools of dirty water. Someone had also tagged the walls with bright graffiti.
They would sleep in the storeroom. It was secure from the wind and rain. There was also a clogged toilet, which Alex had to clean, and a back exit if they needed it.
It was the best option available at short notice. They were all completely exhausted.
It had been a long, hard day. It was 9:52 PM, but it felt much later.
They all needed a few hours of sleep to gather their thoughts and get some much-needed rest.
However, what was heading their way was going to disrupt any chance of sleep.
121
Emma, Bachman, and Peter
Inside Zone 1
The underground bunker
Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania
Regardless of the time, Zone 1 was still bright as midday due to the lights not being adjusted to the twenty-four hour cycle. It was still set to the mad rush of trying to get everything ready to seal the main doors – to get America’s chosen few below ground. A time that would never come.
So as they made their way across the grass, heading for the large drain cover, they were exposed and vulnerable. They were aware that creatures were in the area. They just hoped the pods had herded them away to the main lift.
The idea was to try to reach Zone 12 below ground, through the sewage system. Everything was connected one way or another. The theory was they could crawl all the way, or at least some of it. Better to be hidden below ground than a sitting target on it.
Bachman couldn’t think why there would be creatures in the sewage system, so that way seemed the safest option available to them.
They crouched around the metal grate, with Bachman and Emma trying to raise the cover by using the edge of the axe. It was slow going; they didn’t want to catch a finger in the heavy grate.
Peter was the lookout. He kept popping his head above the large bush, while quickly scanning the area. He looked like a giant, hairless meerkat. He shook so much that the bush rustled.
With some effort, they managed to get the axe head under the metal grate and raise it enough to use the handle on Emma’s weapon to leverage it open, and slide it to one side so they could squeeze through. It was no easy task – the grate was used for industrial cleaning, and a machine was normally used to lift it.
A metal ladder vanished into the wide tunnel. Bachman dropped down first. Followed by Peter and then Emma. The lid was too heavy to pull back into place. Emma snapped some branches off one of the bushes and used them to pull in, to cover the opening as best she could. It would pass a quick glance but not a close up inspection.
The three stood ankle deep in dirty water. The tunnel was six feet wide and nine high. Small-encased lights were dotted along the tunnels ceiling. They were dim but strong enough to light the way. It appears the designers had thought of everything.
“Sewage,” Peter mumbled. “Great!”
“At least it’s not up to our necks,” Emma pointed out.
“It’s kind of thick,” Peter stated as he lifted a foot out of the water.
“It’s because a lot of it is blood,” Bachman pointed out.
“What?” Peter gasped. He tried to lift one foot out, then the other, but he succeeded in only splashing the thick liquid up his legs over the rubber boots.
“We’re in the sewage system. There is blood literally running in the streets. It has to go somewhere.”
“Gross!” Peter muttered. He looked pale in the dim light.
Bachman ignored Peters whining and heading down the tunnel. It only went in two directions. They waded through the blood in the rough direction of zone 12.
They didn’t notice the sewage rippling behind them.
122
Naomi, and the others
In a gas station
Just outside New York City
Naomi sat in a corner, leaning up against the cold wall. She shook all over, but not from the cold. She needed a hit. Anything would do – her body didn’t know how to cope without it.
When they first arrived, she had checked the building from top to bottom, looking for any drugs she could use. Anything to take the edge off. It was empty of anything useful.
The hunger she could ignore, but the need for something to dull her senses was consuming her every thought. She had to clench her teeth to stop them from clattering. A cold sweat beaded across her forehead and top lip.
After she ransacked the building, she locked herself away in the toilet. She retched for half an hour. There was nothing coming out apart from dirty, bile water. Her stomach ached from the vomiting, and her throat felt raw. Sweat dripped down her face.
She lay on the cold ti
led floor, staring up at the ceiling, ignoring Tierra as she banged on the door, stating her precious child needed to use the toilet.
“Fuck-off bitch!” she muttered so softly there was no way Tierra could hear her.
Naomi couldn’t stand any of them.
They’re nagging, annoying bastards. None of them understands me. Not that I care.
Life used to be hard, now it was near impossible. The world was hanging on tender hooks. If it wasn’t bad enough that there were creatures stalking the land, infecting, killing, and eating them, there were others like them just as willing to end a human life. No one can be trusted.
At the moment, she was just using them. As soon as she reached somewhere safe, she would abandon them to their own demise. At the moment they were a protection. Let them do the fighting, the scouting, and gathering of provisions.
One of them stole my bag, she reasoned. And when I find it, and I no longer need these losers, I’m out of here. And if some of them die along the way, all the better.
123
Frank, and the others
In a gas station
Just outside New York City
Frank sat in a corner of the storeroom, staring at his bible. He cracked it open at a random page and started reading. The words soothed his spirit. He felt his strength and resolve return.
God is my help; the Lord is the one who sustains me, he read from Palms 54 verse 4.
Even so, his mind was too unsettled to try to sleep. He was exhausted, and he knew he should try to get some rest, but first he wanted to settle his soul.
His past was blackened with death and suffering. He thought those days were over – he had run as far away as possible from the killing fields. He thought he had witnessed his last victim of violence. He had seen a lifetime of death – by others and dished out by his own hands. He knew he could drown in the amount of blood he has spilled.
The Sixth Extinction America Omnibus [Books 1-12] Page 30
