America The Dead Survivors Stories (Vol. 1)

by Sweet, W. G.

  Haley touched the back of his arm, he turned and smiled at her where she stood with Alice. Behind them, John was checking over the trailers they intended to tow behind the trucks with Jayne. They had picked up Jane back in Hayneville where they had found the tires and a still standing garage to do the work in. It had taken two days to break down the tires on all three trucks and swap them out with the new ones, using only jack handles, crow bars and a foot operated air pump. There had been no generators anywhere close by. On the way back they had nearly driven into a big one that had been left by the side of the highway. That generator was now attached to the third truck.

  They had met Jayne Singleton on the second day. She had stayed in hiding the first day and night watching them. Three men traveling with two women, it had looked all wrong to her, but by the second day she had decided to take the chance.

  She had seemed unsure at first, even after introducing herself, and so they had spent an extra hour feeling each other out: By the time they decided to head back to Fort Deposit, Jayne had been with them.

  There was no friction between any of them. They seemed to be able to work together as though they had known each other for years, Joel thought now as he lifted his eyes back to the sky. He looked back down at Scott and shrugged.

  “Let's do it,” Joel said aloud in the quiet afternoon sky. “Let's take a look.”

  The Alabama Gulf

  Joel and Haley

  They were past the point they had traveled to previously, 12 miles on the odometers. Twice now they had crossed deeper sections where the trucks had slipped down into the water driving slowly across the sandy bottom, water nearing the tops of the door-sills. The island was closer, but the sun was setting and soon the tides would be changing, rising. Joel picked up the radio handset as he coasted to a stop.

  “A few more hours... By midnight we'll be in high tide... From now on out it will be rising.” He didn't ask the question.

  “I say keep going,” Scott answered after a few moments of silence.

  “No sense in stopping,” John said a brief second later. “Jayne says so too.”

  “Well, except we can't swim,” Joel said half joking.

  The silence held a few beats. “That's why we have the boats,” Alice answered with a laugh.

  Joel re-set the handset and dropped the truck into gear. He was making maybe three miles an hour tops, with darkness coming it would be even harder to see into the water. He shifted back out of drive.

  “I think I'm going to ride the hood... sounds crazy, I guess. But I think we can make better time... I can let you know to slow up if anything looks funny, bad,” he shrugged.

  “Does that mean you aren't sure, because it sounds like a plan to me,” Haley said. Joel smiled as he leaned forward and kissed her. A few minutes later he was on the hood: One wet foot for his troubles. He looked behind him and saw Scott climb out on his own hood.

  “No way are you getting all the fun,” Scott called. He scrambled up onto the roof of the truck and Joel followed suit. A few moments later they were traveling through the shallow salt water. Joel lowered his hand and moved it in a forward motion. A few moments later he gave the okay sign, and leaned across to the drivers window.

  “What is that? Speed wise?”

  “Ten, a little less, maybe,” Haley told him.

  “Ten it is,” Joel said. He sat up straight once more and watched the small waves as they seemed to roll toward the truck. With the tide beginning to turn he supposed that was exactly what they were doing. His eyes shifted to the island, which now seemed to take up a much larger space on the horizon. His eyes returned to the water shifting from side to side and ahead. Not long now, he thought. Not long.

  Alabama Island

  Joel and Haley

  It was not far past the sunset when the nose of the truck rose out of the water and skimmed along across no more than a few inches of water. The moon had drifted behind the cloud cover, the headlights were on, but they did more to hide the surface of the water than anything else. They illuminated a small area ahead of the truck and then seemed to be swallowed by the night.

  Before the bottom had risen, the water had been growing steadily deeper as they traveled. They had once again been slowed to just a few miles an hour, plowing through close to two feet of water, and there was a current with the depth that tried to pull them sideways. Joel had been close to calling it off, turning around, or getting the boats ready if there was not enough time to get back before the tide was fully in. A few minutes later they had begun the climb from the water and found themselves where they now were, proceeding slowly through the darkness in just inches of water.

  The moon peeked out from the edge of the clouds and an island took shape before them, partly hidden in mist, the island stretched away on both sides. A quarter mile to the beach, no more. The moon slid free and the island was lit up fully. Trees, broken pavement delineating a road that disappeared into what looked to be a jungle. They were both standing on the rooftops now, knees flexed, arms pumping, screaming, as the trucks finally left the water behind and drove up onto a wide sandy beach. Birds lifted from the surrounding trees, momentarily blotting out the moon once more, as Haley bumped the truck up onto the wide beach, followed closely by John and Alice.

  ~

  The fire burned brightly on the beach. They were close to the tree line, watching the tide bring the water up the long sloping beach., waiting for sunrise.

  “Never make it at high tide,” Scott said. He worked open a pack of peanuts and tilted them above his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully.

  “Probably has risen a good eight feet out here,” Haley said.

  “At least,” Jayne agreed. She blew across a cup of broth and sipped at it.

  “Maybe an hour until daylight,” Joel said now. He shifted his back where he rested against a tire, one arm around Haley.

  “Be a good time to bring something in by boat though,” Alice said.

  “Yeah,” Scott agreed. “Plenty deep enough now.”

  Rifles and pistols lay nearby. There was no way to know what to expect, but to think there had been no living souls on this land that had died and turned would be foolish they had agreed. They would get no sleep tonight, and at sunrise they would start inland, looking the island over.

  The conversations flowed back and forth along with the occasional subdued laughter in the darkness. The Sky began to lighten behind them, gray light spilling across the tops of the trees. Far out on the water the first red-gold arrows of light touched the water and awakened what looked to be an ocean.

  “Hard to believe we drove across that,” Haley said from his lap. Her head rested against his thigh, eyes slitted. She rose to one elbow and then sat up as the others began to stand.

  ~

  The broken roadway ran through the jungle of vegetation and they drove it slowly into the interior of the island. There were several roads that cut off from the main blacktop, but there was no time to follow all of them. They passed through the overgrown remains of two small towns. Empty. Cars sitting on the streets on flats, buildings overgrown with kudzu and other vines. Mounds of sand trying to wipe out everything the Kudzu had not taken.

  In places the road looked washed out, as if water had flowed across it at some point. The four wheel drive took them down into the resulting ravine or through fields and dry stream beds to get around it and up the other side. They drove through a slightly larger town twenty miles inland. Several large stores, a few car dealerships still stood: Sand covered most of the roads and streets everywhere they drove. The doors that lead into the stores were drifted shut four feet high in places. They stopped to dig one out, broke the locks from the aluminum door frames, only to be rewarded with a moldy interior that had obviously been flooded at one time. Somewhere inside a clicking came to them, a few moments late three dead, not much more than putrid flesh on skeletons, had come from the aisles to meet them. They had taken them out quickly and nothing else had come from the depths. Ev
en so they had forced themselves to walk the interior to be sure. They were even more convinced the entire store had been submerged when they left it an hour later. The aisles were full of sand in places. The roof had collapsed in others and sand and what had probably had once been seaweed clogged some aisles.

  Scott opinioned that most likely every car or truck in sight had a motor full of sand and was worthless. No one argued the point. They had gone through the town slowly after that, but they encountered no more dead. They had returned to the main road, driving farther into the interior of the island.

  Fifty miles inland the land rose steeply and then flattened out. They stopped once the island began to spread out below them. They could see all the island from this point. The end of the journey was not far ahead. No more than five miles ahead, cliffs dropped down into the ocean. A much deeper area of water than what was behind them capped that end of the island. The western and eastern views were nearly equal. Off to the west there was a second smaller island that was removed from the main island by a small channel, at least it looked small from where they were. The distance was hard to judge, they would have to drive it, but it was far less than the fifty miles they had driven, maybe half that, Haley thought.

  Whether heading east or west, roads snaked here and there, away from the main route, or what they considered the main route: Woods covered parts of the island, wide plains other areas. Nothing alive moved anywhere they looked.

  “I think,” Joel said as they sat on the hoods of the trucks and drank warm bottled sports drinks, “This whole place, or most of it, was flooded over. I guess we can all see that, but I mean for a time, a long time. Any life washed away... Including people.”

  “So what's to stop that same thing from happening again,” Alice asked. She looked nervous even as she said the words.

  “I would bet a tidal wave... No, tsunami triggered by the quakes, rolled right over everything on the coast. Probably took days to recede. That's why there is no one here.” Jayne said thoughtfully.

  “Wouldn't happen again?” Alice asked.

  “I don't think so,” Scott said. “I think it's been quiet for months now... I think this place is safe now... Maybe the only place in the world without dead. I think the dead in that store were trapped by the place being locked up. Probably locked it up themselves for protection... Drowned when it flooded.”

  “We'll have to be careful if we come across something like that again,” Jayne said, more to herself than anyone in particular.

  Silence held as she finished, a few nods of agreement.

  Joel upended his bottle, drank deeply and then grimaced. He looked at the label. “Cherry Cucumber,” he said aloud. “For real? Who in hell thought that up? Haley, take a letter to...” He paused as he looked for the manufacturers name on the bottle without success. “Well, to these sonsofbitches,” he said in his best Clint Eastwood imitation. “Tell 'em we won't be drinking no more of these bastards.” He grinned, turned and spat on the ground. Scott applauded.

  “No more Clint Eastwood, that sucks,” Alice said with a sad face.

  “Or cold beer,” Scott said and grimaced.

  “Or panty-liners,” Jayne said and then pulled a face. Haley broke into laughter so hard that tears squirted from her eyes. Alice joined in. Joel, John and Scott just shook their heads and looked at one another.

  “I... I can't believe you said that,” Haley said. She laughed harder.

  Joel cleared his throat and looked out over the island. “A perfectly good conversation,” Joel said and sighed dramatically. Haley gave him a shot in the ribs with one elbow. They all laughed then.

  Okay... Okay,” Jayne said eventually, “but really... Here we are, what is this place now that we've found it?”

  “Alabama Island,” Scott answered promptly.

  “Yeah... Alabama Island,” Joel agreed.

  “Okay, but what is it to us,” Jayne said

  “Home,” Haley said. “It's home.”

  The silence held as one by one they each nodded.

  “We'll need to make more trips,” Jayne said at last.

  “A lot of trips,” Scott agreed.

  “What do we need,” Joel asked, as Haley produced a small pad of paper and a pen.

  November 12th

  Alabama Island

  Joel and Haley

  The tide was on the way in when they reached the shore and rolled out onto the long flat beach. The trip was faster now, knowing for a certainty that the land was there, but it was still a close run between the tides.

  As the days passed and the trips became more regular, they planned on leaving on the low tide, collecting all the materials they needed, and coming back on the next nearest low tide. That usually meant a layover, as it took time to collect what they needed, and as the areas around Fort Deposit were nearly stripped clean of any and all building materials or supplies: They found themselves venturing farther out. Some were back on the island while another group was out. Today two groups had met up and come back together.

  The old road had been cleared of sand in most areas simply by driving over it, in others with shovels and hard work. The highest area had been officially named Mount Alabama, and a rough camp was set up there. It was the highest point on the island, therefore worthy of the name, they had decided. Piles of materials had been trucked in across the water and stored there under the trees, but they had not yet begun to build.

  Joel lead the way down the road and into a forested area that was part of Mount Alabama, but a quarter mile from the actual summit. Here the trees were very old growth. Massive trunks, and heights that went well beyond a hundred feet with large spreading limbs. They had all been taken under the spell of the place since they had first stumbled across it on the third day. Unlike some areas they had discovered, where submersion under salt water had killed the trees, these trees had either never been submerged, or had not been submerged for long. There were thriving and imparted their beauty over the entire area.

  As Joel stopped the truck there was nothing there to denote the fact that they had chosen this place to build: It looked like nothing more than a scattered tent community under the huge trees. The six survivors had become twenty during their supply runs, and Joel had no doubt the twenty would become fifty before they ceased their runs to the mainland. Others were there, he could feel it. He, Haley and Scott often talked about it. It was easy to understand their reluctance to come out of hiding and join them. It had taken those with them some time, it would take those remaining some time too.

  Joel jumped down from the truck and watched the others pull in. Two of the new trucks were stake-rake trucks: One driven by Scott one driven by Kyle, one of the newcomers. Kyle had been a farmer in the old days. All of his own animals that had survived were here now, including a half dozen cows, fifty chickens, and a nearly blind dog named Bam-Bam. Kyle helped Bam-Bam down from the truck and then walked over to Joel where he stood with Haley, Alice and Scott.

  “Six cows and four pigs. Scott's got a bull and John has twelve pigs that are about as wild as I have ever seen. Like to have eaten us as we were trying to load them... No horses yet.” He pulled his hat from his head, wiped away the sweat from his face and then put the hat on backwards. Joel smiled.

  “That bull?” Scott said.

  Haley smiled. “Pissed off?”

  “Very,” Scott agreed. “I think take it out in the field before I release it. Make sure it calms down and doesn't just charge us.”

  Joel laughed. “I know it's not funny. I never really thought about how to get it out of the truck once we got here.” He sighed. “Well, we've got five acres fenced for it... Should have built one of those chutes you see on rodeo shows.”

  “Are you a secret cowboy,” Alice asked Joel as Jayne walked up.

  “If I am, I'm one of those McMurtry cowboys. The real ones not the cleaned up versions.” Joel laughed.

  “So... We could back it up to the gate, close in the sides before we let that door open,
maybe it will shoot right out the back and kick rocks,” Scott said.

  “Kick rocks?” Joel asked.

  “Hit the road,” Haley supplied.

  “Hmm, well, if that's our best option let's do it.” Joel agreed.

  The bull turned out to be easy, it was the pigs that were trouble. They dropped the latch on the back of Scott's truck and the bull took off. They dropped the door latch on John's truck for the pigs, and instead of taking off into the woods to become wild pigs they could hunt on occasion, they stayed right in camp. Raiding garbage, knocking down tents, and chasing kids around. They had to shoot two of them before it was over and the other ten had finally run off: As night closed in they had all eventually found a reason to laugh about it.

  ~

  “Okay, there are more pigs we can get. What we'll do next time is release them a little further away. The thing is they're going to be dependent on us until this island springs back and starts supporting all the life it should be. We've released rabbits, and a few dozen nutria. It won't take long for them to breed and become a food source for the pigs, but until they do they will search us out and look for food. And a pig will eat anything at all. A cat, puppy, garbage, which is what we can feed them. They're omnivores so they'll search out vegetation and eat that too,” Kyle finished.

  “You mean feed them cats and puppies,” Jayne asked.

  “I didn't say that,” Kyle said. He frowned “Okay, maybe it sounded that way. I meant garbage. We can feed them garbage so they aren't trying to eat our cats and puppies.” His face was red.

  “So long as you are not trying to feed them cats and puppies,” Jayne said. She seemed to enjoy getting Kyle wound up. It was an easy process. He was somewhere south of infatuated with her and immediately got both defensive and tongue tied when she spoke to him.

  The fire in the center of the tent city was burning brightly. Both pigs were spitted and cooking over the flames. Food for a few days only with twenty adults. There were six children here too. None had come through with their parents, all had been on their own and taken in by the people that had come to join with them. Some were past the trauma on those first days back in March, some were not.