They walked for a few more minutes, “OK, let’s cut up over the hill here.”
It took them five more minutes of getting scratched by thorns and smacked by branches before they came up to the end of Walnut Street.
It took them another five minutes before they reached the edge of the football field.
After seeing the field was clear, they ran across the field and behind the dumpsters.
“You first Deb,” Jim said as he opened the coal bin door.
After Debbie was back in the boiler room, Jim reached in as far as he could with Ed until he felt Debbie grab her.
After lowering Monica, Jim stuck his head in through the bin door.
“You three wait here,” Jim said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where the hell are you going?” Debbie asked.
“I’m going to run over to the library and get your books,” Jim answered. “It will only take me a few minutes.”
“Don’t forget my crayons,” Monica spoke up for the first time since the bridge.
Jim closed the coal bin door before Debbie could protest any further.
He smiled to himself. When he got back, someone was going to get teased about her recent use of foul language.
Seeing the dead up close again had definitely shook up Debbie. Even in the early days Debbie hadn’t resorted to using foul language.
After all the hassle she had put him through about his language around Moni, he was going to rub it in good.
“She is going to have to change her ways or I’m going to tell her I won’t allow her to play with Ed anymore,” Jim laughed to himself.
Chapter 6
Ricki climbed into the back of the Chevy Cobalt as Jamal got behind the wheel, Devon had shotgun and George got in the back seat across from Ricki.
Jamal started the engine and backed the car away from the door to the community center.
As the car pulled away, Ricki waved to his brother Denny who was watching them leave through the window on the second floor.
Denny would have the boring job of keeping an eye on the center today. Denny said he was going to go down to the basketball court on the main floor and shoot baskets to pass the time. Ricki doubted he would do that. Ricki had tried shooting baskets to pass the time, but the empty center just felt too damn creepy to enjoy shooting baskets. If Denny was like Ricki, he would end up pacing the building and looking out the windows to try and get rid of that uneasy feeling of being left there by himself.
But Ricki was happy Denny was staying behind today.
Today Ricki would be the one to go in and check out buildings and all the other places the gang wouldn’t go until they knew it was safe.
It was definitely worse than staying behind but he felt better doing it than having Denny do that job. Denny was one of those kids that bad luck just followed around.
Ricki always worried when Denny was out. He was afraid Denny would get bitten by one of the dead, or the gang would get spooked and just leave him behind.
Today would be different than their other supply runs. Today they were going to New Florence. All their prior runs had been to different places up on the hill. Up on the hill was bad enough, any time you had to deal with those dead rotting creatures was bad, but up here on the ridge there weren’t near as many of those things as they saw on their weekly drive that they made to look out over the valley below. They were bound to run into a lot of those things today.
If it was up to Ricki, he would be happy to hunt and fish near Ross Mountain Park at the dam. He would wait until he didn’t see anything moving in the valley before going down there. It was bad enough up on the hill, he didn’t need to make his life any worse than it was.
He wished he knew what the hell had happened. Had the country been attacked by terrorists with some kind of nasty biological weapon? He had wondered what had happened ever since this had started. He figured he would never know what happened. He hoped that maybe someday he would run into another survivor, but he hoped that it wouldn’t be today. The gang would probably take everything they had and then kill them.
But first Ricki had to worry about not getting killed himself.
The car reached the intersection with Route 711 and turned left. They started down over the steep hill.
“I bet you twenty bucks there won’t be any of those staggering hillbillies down at the bottom of the hill today,” George said.
“I’d take that bet,” Devon grinned, “but I know you don’t have twenty bucks. Even if you did, it isn’t worth shit anymore.”
George thought for a second, “Let’s make it a bag of chips then.”
“You don’t have a bag of chips either,” Devon laughed.
“I will when we get to New Florence,” George grinned.
“I’ll take that bet,” Ricki said.
“I didn’t ask you runt,” George shot Ricki a nasty look.
Devon laughed again, “OK you’re on, but if you don’t pay up, I get your Nike’s”
“”And if I win I get your Lakers jersey,” George replied.
“That’s fine, because you’re not going to win,” Devon answered. “If we see even one of those things you lose.”
George looked down at his shoes, “Only if there are more than ten at the bottom of the hill. I’m sure we will see a few, it has to be more than ten.”
“OK, more than ten,” Devon replied.
Ricki just stared out the window and just stayed out of it. He hoped George didn’t have any other shoes. He would enjoy seeing that asshole running around in his bare feet.
The car moved down the hill.
Ricki was just looking out the side window as they drove.
He smiled to himself a few minutes later when George started bitching. It would have been funny but he knew it just meant more problems.
“Pay up George,” Devon said.
“I’ll get your damn chips when we get down to New Florence,” George complained, “Shit! I was sure those damn things would be gone by now.”
Devon and Jamal laughed.
“I’m counting on getting your Nike’s,” Devon laughed.
“Not a chance,” George complained. “I’ll get you those chips if I have to search every damn house in town.”
“He means if I have to search every house in town,” Ricki thought.
Ricki leaned over and looked through the windshield towards the bottom of the hill. Starting at the bottom of the hill, dozens of the dead were staggering around out along Route 711.
It wasn’t as bad as he had expected, but it was bad enough.
“It looks like I might have to run a few of them over,” Jamal said laughing. “You might want to buckle your seat belts.”
Devon pulled at his seatbelt tighter, “Just don’t wreck the damn car, I don’t want to walk back up this hill.”
“No problem,” Jamal replied.
“That’s what we said that night in Ligonier,” Devon shot back.
Jamal slowed the car as they reached the bottom of the hill, “Maybe you’re right, I’ll just ease the bastards out of our way until we are on the way back.”
“Maybe we should get a truck while we are out today,” Devon added. “Just to use in the towns until we are sure these things have moved on.”
“Good idea,” Jamal replied. “If most of these things have moved on like I expect, maybe it’s time we start thinking about going back to the city. A truck would be nice.”
“That sounds good to me,” George chimed in. “We’ve spent enough time out here in hillbilly country.”
Ricki would have liked to push George out of the car and let him try to outrun the dead. Ricki didn’t consider himself or anyone else that had lived in Fairfield hillbillies.
If only he was bigger and had a chance against these guys, one on one. He would just have to wait for the right opportunity. He knew the opportunity would eventually present itself, then he would show these guys he wasn’t a hillbilly, that is if he lived that long.
<
br /> In the meantime he wouldn’t forget how the gang had acted and treated him and his brother.
“I think before we start planning any trips we should see how today works out,” Devon said. “We haven’t even made it to this New Florence yet. After today we might decide we are happy where we are.”
“Not a chance,” George snorted.
All conversation stopped as they approached the first group of the dead staggering along on the highway.
Jamal slowed down even more and began to weave between the first of the creatures.
The dead began to take notice of the car. They all started turning towards the car and reaching out their arms to grab at the car.
With the dead beginning to crowd onto the road, it became impossible to avoid hitting them. The bodies started bouncing off the hood and fenders with an occasional body flying up over the hood, glancing off the windshield and back over the roof. Bloody streaks began to form on the hood and across the windshield as the sound of bodies colliding with the car sounded every ten seconds.
“I knew this was going to be bad,” Ricki finally spoke up. “Is this what it was like in Ligonier? Maybe we should turn around.”
“Nay, this ain’t bad,” Jamal replied. “In Ligonier the bastards were so thick the first seven cars couldn’t push through them. They tried running them over but between the number of them and all the blood and guts on the road, the cars got stuck and just spun on the bodies. The dead broke through the windows and crawled inside the cars or dragged our guys out on the street. When we saw what was happening, we tried to turn around and go back. Those dead bastards swarmed us and started to beat the hell out of our cars. They busted out our windows and were trying to get in at us. Half of our guys had their arms shredded trying to keep them out. The last three cars, we were lucky as hell to get out of there. This, a half dozen or so every few hundred feet won’t stop us. As long as we keep moving we’ll be fine.”
“But how are we going to get out and get gas?” George asked.
“And how are we going to get back?” Ricki asked sounding worried. “If all these things follow us, there will be hundreds of them on the road when we come back this way.”
“You worry too much little Ricki,” Jamal said. “Look up ahead.”
Ricki looked out through the bloody smears on the windshield. Except for the two bloody creatures walking in the middle of the road a hundred feet ahead, the highway didn’t look too bad. Ricki could see two or three more further down the road, but nothing near as bad as they had just run through.
“I told you these things were moving on,” Jamal said. “Surely you didn’t expect them all to be gone. What fun would that be?”
Ricki sat back nervously and studied the fields as they passed by, hoping Jamal was right and he wouldn’t see a large horde coming for them from out of the woods.
Except for the occasional thud, when a body glanced off the side of the car, the rest of the way to New Florence was fairly uneventful.
When the car reached the little hill that led down into New Florence, Jamal stopped the car and pulled out the map Ricki had drawn last night.
“OK, this town is only about ten or twelve blocks long according to your map,” Jamal said.
“Yea, it’s not a very large town,” Ricki replied as he leaned forward to look at the map.
Jamal studied the map and pointed, “This Graff’s gas station is only four blocks in and right across from it is Trimbal’s grocery store.”
“Not far at all,” Ricki said. “As soon as we get to the bottom of this little hill, you should be able to see them down the street.”
“Good. That will be our first stop,” Jamal said. “When we get to the station, Devon, you and George take the gas can and siphon the gas out of any cars near the station. If they are by a gas station they should all have plenty of gas in them. Ricki, you go into Trimbal’s and start hauling out all the food you can carry.”
Devon and George nodded.
Ricki thought, “As I expected, I’m the only one going inside a building and I’m going in by myself again.”
Jamal continued, “If we get everything we need here, if it’s clear we will look around and plan our next trip back. If it’s not clear we will call it a day and take our stuff and go home. It should be an easy day.”
Jamal started driving down into New Florence. Cars were parked haphazardly on the streets and sidewalks, making driving down Ligonier Street slow as Jamal had to weave through the wreckage. It wasn’t until they passed Tenth Street, two blocks before Graff’s garage, did they see any of the dead. Two blocks back off of Ligonier Street, two staggering bodies wandered down the street but didn’t seem to notice their car as it quietly glided down Ligonier Street.
A block later, Jamal pulled the Cobalt into Graff’s garage and stopped in front of the station and turned off the engine.
“It’s like a ghost town,” George whispered.
“More like a battlefield,” Devon added as he looked at all the garbage on the streets and at all the buildings with their doors and windows smashed out.
“What do you make of all these cars?” George asked, “You can barely see in through all the blood covered windows, but I think there are dead bodies in them.”
“I think it looks like what we saw in Ligonier, except after the dead were done with the passengers and had moved on,” Jamal said. “I think maybe the towns folks tried to make a run for it.”
“They didn’t get very far,” Devon added. “I wonder how many of the dead are still around here?”
“Let’s get out and get what we came for before we find out,” Jamal said. “Move your asses, I’ll keep watch.”
Devon and George got out of the car and ran back to the trunk and took out two empty five gallon gas cans.
Ricki got out and looked around. The quiet, dead quiet was eerie. He had come to New Florence many times before being stranded on Fairfield Hill. In fact he had played baseball in New Florence when his pony league team played the New Florence team. The teams didn’t have names or mascots. They were just called the Fairfield or the New Florence team. The New Florence team gave Fairfield’s team a name. They called Ricki’s team the Fairfield Hicks. He expected the gang to refer to Fairfield as hillbillies, but now that he looked back at it, it had been funny to hear kids from the little dumpy town of New Florence call anyone hicks. From the looks of the town, he doubted they were calling anyone anything right now. The town looked like it had been completely wiped out.
Ricki’s trip down memory lane was interrupted by Jamal, “Get your ass moving Ricki.”
Ricki started moving towards Trimbal’s.
After looking at what was in the first few cars he passed, he tried to keep from looking in anymore of the cars. It reminded him of what had happened around his home, but only ten times as bad. He just tried to listen to make sure nothing in the cars moved as he walked by.
When Ricki reached Trimbal’s, he approached the front of the store cautiously. The door was out in the middle of the sidewalk. The windows were scattered half on the sidewalk and half inside the store on the floor.
According to the blood covered sign on the ground next to his feet, Trimbal’s had a special on Grade A Large eggs. They were only ninety-nine cents while supplies lasted.
Ricki was sure the sale was over. Even if supplies had lasted, he would skip the rotten eggs at this point.
He was hoping to find some blueberry Pop Tarts. It had been a year since he had his favorite breakfast snack.
Ricki started to get excited. Maybe Jamal was right, the dead had moved on and the town would be a paradise of food and supplies. He hoped so, he would be happy to admit he was wrong about what he expected to find here if it was true.
Ricki moved quietly in through the door. Trimbal’s was a small store. It was what one would expect to find in a small place like New Florence. It was about fifty feet wide and ninety feet long. There were five rows of shelves that ran from the front of the
store to the back. New Florence just didn’t have enough people for the town to need a larger store. But at least New Florence had a grocery store. Fairfield didn’t even have a gas station.
Ricki, after listening to be sure the store wasn’t occupied, stepped inside.
After what he had seen out on the street, Ricki expected to see the store had been trashed, but what he saw surprised him. Every shelf had been knocked over. Broken jars were scattered around on the floor. The coolers had been smashed, but what surprised him most was, except for the broken jars, the place was empty. Every last bit of food had been taken. The candy and snack racks were empty and on the floor. There were a few paper plates on the floor, but every box and can was gone. Even the toilet paper was gone.
Ricki got down on his hands and knees and looked under some of the fallen shelves, but there wasn’t anything. The store had been cleaned out.
Maybe all the people that were trying to leave town must have loaded up on supplies before they left, but he would have expected something to have been left in the store. Ricki was sure when the town folk were leaving they would have been in too much of a hurry to clean out the store this thoroughly.
Ricki backed out of the store and ran back over to the Cobalt where Jamal was sitting inside with the windows up.
Jamal rolled down his window as Ricki approached.
“I thought I told you to bring back as much as you could carry,” Jamal complained. “If you want to eat you have to work.”
“I know,” Ricki replied, “But there isn’t anything in there. The place has been cleaned out.”
“You’re shitting me,” Jamal said looking annoyed.
“You can go look for yourself if you want,” Ricki answered. “I don’t understand it, but it looks like everything in the store is gone.”
Survivors in a Dead World Page 8
