The last few rows had what looked like camping gear including tents, camouflage nets both for wilderness and urban environments, back packs, combat packs, ropes, and other equipment for any and all possible situations the police might encounter. I didn’t see any zombie survival kits so I’m guessing the police didn’t foresee that eventuality.
I grabbed a urban combat pack and two sets of netting, one a gray color that would help me hide amongst the buildings and the other of the desert camouflage design, then I grabbed and industrial looking flashlight. I left the tents. There was no way I’d sleep in a tent where I couldn’t see out, had only one exit, and anything could sneak up on me while I slept. Fuck. That.
I packed up all my new gear in my new pack and tried it on. It was heavy but I’d been building up muscles I never knew I had on my walk from Los Angeles so it felt OK. I decided to take a quick look in the evidence archive. The light from the warehouse penetrated the gloom but only about halfway in leaving the back half shrouded in near complete darkness that could be hiding just about anything.
I glanced at the shelves lined with bins full of sealed plastic envelopes marked “evidence” and figured that there wasn’t anything in here I could use that I didn’t already have. I turned to leave and caught a glimmer of something out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t need anything shiny that would give away my position out in the sunlight but I was drawn to it none the less. It lay on the first shelf and was wrapped in a large plastic bag. I pulled back the plastic keeping an eye on the shadows revealing a long wooden box inlaid with gold and silver metal in an intricate design. I popped the finely crafted latches on the box and slowly opened it. Inside was a shotgun. But not just any shotgun, no-sir-ee! This one was a double barrel pump shotgun that had been sawed down to the very base of the wood stock making it just under two feet long. The wood stock was also inlaid with silver plating on the side that gleamed dully. I picked it up and put it against my shoulder, It fit snug and was incredibly light weight. It would be easy to hide and very easy to handle for a young teenager like me. I put it in its box and picked the box up from the shelf turning to head out of the warehouse.
I heard something shift behind me. I dropped the box and pulled out my pistols expecting to see a few dead stumble out of the back of the evidence room. I turned and instead saw nothing. Maybe the building shifting in the heat? I stood there motionless then heard the shuffling sound again.
People learned early on during the event not to call out “who’s there?” or “hey [fill in the blank with name of a dead loved one], is that you?” They learned early or got eaten. So I stood there complete silent. Then I could hear the breathing, a low, wet wheezing.
I thought maybe it was a dog until I heard someone deep in the darkness whisper so low I had to strain to hear it, “Someone’s been pick, pick, picking…”
I didn’t bother to ask if they were all right. I knew they weren’t. I had traveled with James for so long that I already knew the sound of insanity, of madness, and of death so I picked up my shotgun box and began to back out of the evidence room keeping my pistol training on the voice.
“Sneak sneak little mouse and go away. Leave us to our darkness…” I thought I might have caught the reflection of two eyes but it most likely was my overheated imagination. The nut job hiding in the dark, however was not my imagination and it was time for me to leave.
As I spun and headed towards my pile of gear, I heard the voice call out, “One warning! If you come back, I will have you tended to, YOUUU….!” The voice screamed at me rising at the end in a high pitched screech.
First, I ran. Grabbing my new gear and heading out the warehouse doors still careful to look around and ensure no dead had crept into the area.
Second I wasn’t coming back. I could guarantee you that.
And third, fuck you looney tune, I’m out of here.
I got out of the warehouse, back out onto the street, and away from the police station. I quickly found my bike and began repacking my equipment looking back over my shoulder expecting to see a tattered figure stumbling around the corner of the police station crying after me, “One warning little mouse! One warning!” and calling the dead down on us both. I quickly finished and strapped my old pack onto the bicycle cart, then mounted up and peddled away from the police station at to the onramp and quickly as I could.
I felt the fear begin to fade as I made it up the freeway and headed east. It was still hotter than a furnace but the hot breeze blew away my sweat and the feel of the wind as I peddled down the highway felt wonderful.
I slid effortlessly by the burnt out and abandoned wrecks of cars, busses, and trucks and soon found myself momentarily free of the urban traffic jams that clogged the roads. In front of me was the open highway with no dead in sight. Behind me was Phoenix still afire. I peddled away moving faster than I had for months and for a moment felt free. Free from death, free from worry, and free from James. I knew he was out there somewhere, running around the wreck, playing with the dead, but I planned on putting as much distance between him and me as I could so he could never, ever catch up to me.
How naïve I was to think he’d let me go that easily.
* * *
I only had a few hours left of sunlight and I still needed to find a place to sleep for the night. I stopped peddling and pulled out my map. Just a few miles further east was Gila River Memorial Airport. I’d try that first.
I peddled off the highway and down to the frontage road and soon found myself at the airport’s perimeter fence. I found an open gate and peddled onto the runway. There were a few planes here, mostly private commuters or fancy jets for millionaires, but none of the larger planes of the commercial carriers. On the far east side of the airport, I could see a large assortment of military hangers, vehicles, planes, and helicopters. I thought about exploring all the equipment they left behind later but figure I already had everything I needed.
I rode across the nearly empty runways and to the outer maintenance buildings. I found a small maintenance hangar that was nearly three stories tall and had a flat roof. I set my bike against the outer wall and looked for a drain pipe, found one, then shimmied up to the roof. It was perfect. There was no roof access and a three foot high wall that ran around the building. I could make my camp up here and no one could see me or get up to me without me knowing.
I climbed back down and tied a rope to my two packs. I then tied a bottle of water to the other end of the rope and threw it up onto the roof. The water bottle sailed over the edge and landed with a thud. I then wheeled my bike into the hanger and covered it with a tarp in the corner where no one was likely to look. Then I climbed back up to the roof.
I grabbed the rope and pulled all of my equipment up after me then began to make camp. I first took out my binoculars and scanned the horizon around me. I could see a few dead near the airport terminal and a few scattered about the runway but none near me. I could also see the highway all the way back to Chandler the way I had come. I studied it carefully looking for any movement, any sign that I might have been followed. Satisfied that no one was tailing me, I broke out the urban camouflage net and tied it down making a canopy that was just below the rim of the wall yet high enough for me to crawl under it and lay down comfortably. The canopy would also serve to let in any breeze during the day and block out the worst of the sunlight.
I then unrolled my sleeping bag and unpacked my night vision goggles. I wanted to read the manual before the sun went down and test them out later in the night.
I had landed an excellent pair of goggles. These had different setting for when the moon was out, in a well-lit urban area, and in the wilderness. They also had an infrared setting that would allow me to see heat sources at night as well. That wouldn’t help for the dead, but it would allow me to see any people or animals moving about in the night. They also had a charger port for a small solar array for me to charge them during the daylight hours. The charger also fit my hand held radio, and my flashlig
ht so I could recharge all of my equipment while I slept through the heat of the day.
I read the quick start manual, then read it again, then familiarized myself with all the functions of the goggles. I slipped them on and adjusted the head harness until it fit comfortably on my head without pinching or squeezing me too tightly. I pulled off the goggles and set them down, stripped down to my boxers, and laid back on my sleeping back. I listened to the breeze blow and occasionally peeked my eyes over the edge of the roof wall. The dead were starting to come out of their hiding places as the sun hit the horizon. I lay back down and waited for the sun to go down and for night to arrive.
When it was completely dark, I pulled on the goggles and pressed the power button. The world popped up in glowing green with crystal clarity. The moon was not up so I chose the wilderness setting. The light from the stars in the sky burned a bright green and the roof shown like it was bathed in Saint Elmo’s Fire. I could see everything and in such crisp clarity. It was as thought someone was shining a vast green light down on the roof of the hanger I was on.
I slowly raised up on my knees and scanned the airport. I could easily see the dead moving around, many, many more than had been out earlier in the day when I had arrived. If I adjusted the lenses, I could zoom in on whatever I wanted to focus on. I zoomed in on the passenger terminal a little over a mile away and could see the dead moving around in there with such focus and clarity that it felt like I was standing right outside the terminal.
I then looked back towards Chandler along the highway. The fires burning from Phoenix nearly washed out the picture so I set it to a lower level until I could see again. All along the highway I could see the burnt out and abandoned wrecks as bright and as crisp as during the day. And better yet, I could see that no one was moving along the highway alive or dead.
I changed settings to the infrared lens and looked around my perch. I could see small animals moving along the airport runways. Rabbits and a stray coyote or two. I looked back towards Chandler again and saw something that gave me a start: a line of three human figures glowing softly in red. I switched back to the night vison and could see two men and a woman trekking along the streets heading east. I watched the trio until they disappeared behind a building and out of site.
I lay back down under my canopy thinking about them. They were too far away for me to signal or even try to catch up. I didn’t really know if I wanted to try and meet up with other people. Part of me wanted to but part of me wanted to be alone. At least for now.
I lay back listening to the dead wander around the tarmac below. A few must have gotten close since I could hear them moan and the sound of their feet dragging along the asphalt. I did my best to ignore them but it was hard having the dead so close and the feeling that I was out in the open. It would take me awhile to get used to sleeping on rooftops, to convince myself that I was safe even though I didn’t have four walls and a roof over my head.
I looked at my watch and saw that it was nearly nine. The temperature had begun to drop a little and the breeze had died down to nothing. I figured I’d wait until ten, then try the radio.
At ten, I pulled on my boots, grabbed my radio and climbed up the small transmitter tower. I could see pretty clearly in the glow of the fire but I still took my time carefully moving my hands and feet up the skeletal metal structure until I reached a small crow’s nest up at the top. I sat there cross legged and turned on the radio.
I sat for a while listening to the static pop and hiss waiting to see if anyone else was active. Apparently no one was so I pressed down on the send button and said, “Kailee? Are you out there?” and released the button. I pulled a small cable out of the bottom of the radio and clipped it to the tower I was sitting on and suddenly a voice came across as clear as if the person was sitting next to me.
“Fourteen klicks from here. Do you see him?” a gruff male voice said.
“I see him. What’s he doing?” a young girl’s voice responded.
“Settling down for the night it looks like,” the man responded.
For a moment I thought they might be talking about me. I looked around with my goggles and couldn’t see anyone or anything close that might see me but then the girl spoke again sending ice water into my veins, “We gonna kill him?”
If they were talking about me, I’d have to pack up and move right now, “No, we let him pass unless he keeps stirring up the dead.
Stirring up the dead? I had been avoiding the dead and hadn’t had any major problems since Phoenix.
“I think he’s crazy,” the girl said, “Like he does it on purpose. What was he doing to that dead girl?”
“Nothing you need to worry about. And yep. He’s crazy but he’s heading west and will be out of the city soon so we let him go on his way. If he heads back into Phoenix, then we might have to do something about him.”
James. They were talking about James. But why would he be heading west? I didn’t care. If he was heading west, all the better for me.
I switched channels and heard another voice that was broadcasting weather conditions in a flat, mechanical voice. I figured somewhere a military or government installation must still have power and was broadcasting an automated update. I listened until I heard the temperature for the Phoenix metropolitan area, “Current temperature, Phoenix metropolitan area is one hundred and three degrees Fahrenheit, thirty nine point 4 degrees Celsius. Wind four miles per hour out of southwest. Current temperature, Tucson metropolitan area….”
103 degrees Fahrenheit! Yikes! And it was already after ten. I switched through another few channels and got nothing but static. At each channel, I’d hit the send button and say, “Kailee?” and wait for a few minutes for a response. After a few minutes of silence, I’d move on. I stayed up there until well after one in the morning and checked the temperature before I climbed down. 88 F. Better but still hot.
I laid out the solar panel collector and hooked up all my electronic equipment. The solar cell had a little control panel so I could charge the most important item first. So I set up the goggles to charge, followed by the radio, then the flashlight. Before I hooked everything up, I scanned the area around the hanger again and saw that it was clear of anyone tracking me but still full of the dead then I turned off the goggles and hooked them to the solar charger.
I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep but at soon as I lay down I was out and didn’t wake up until the sun peaked over the horizon sometime after six. I didn’t even awake with a start. I woke up for the first time in months, maybe since the event started feeling safe and secure.
My plan was to stay on the rooftop under the canopy through the heat of the day. As sunset approached, I’d break camp, strap on my night vision goggles and start heading east again. Easier said than done.
First, even with the canopy, the heat was brutal and even though I stayed in my shorts, the sweat just poured off of me. And I was bored. Hard to believe a person could actually get bored during the end of the world but with no dead threatening me and no one living around for miles I found boredom seeping in. So I sat cleaning my weapons, familiarizing myself with the new gear, plotting out my trip for that night, and napping as much as I could.
Tucson was about a hundred and sixteen miles away. I figured I’d be riding around fifteen miles per hour so it’d take me about eight hours to get there. I’d need to stop early and find a place to camp. Also, I didn’t want to try to get all the way there on my first night ride attempt, so I found a spot halfway between here and Tucson called Eloy and found a small commuter airport where I could stop.
I needed a backup plan in case the airport in Eloy didn’t work out so I found another one two more hours away called Pinal Airport. Having mapped out my trip for the night, cleaned as much of my equipment as I could, and eaten more food than I needed, I dropped down on my sleeping bag and tried to get some rest but the thought of what lie ahead keep me from falling asleep.
Four hours riding in the dark. The thought scared m
e near to death. And even if I left just before the sun went down, that meant I’d arrive after midnight and have to set up my camp in complete darkness. That scared me even more. Maybe I should reconsider traveling at night. I thought I could make it to Tucson but the next leg of the trip across the vast, open desert to Las Cruces would be nearly impossible. I’d run out of water or the heat would kill me. Or both. So I stuck to my original plan to travel at night.
The hours crept by and between the heat and sweat I thought I was going to boil in my own oil. In the late afternoon a wild wind picked up and helped cool me down and I watched thunderstorms move across Phoenix putting out the fire I had started and then move on out into the desert. They swept in with their huge thunder and lightning shows, drop walls of rain, then moved on leaving only the heat and a few quickly drying puddles of rain. I was glad that none of the thunderstorms came my way. I didn’t think the canopy would be waterproof and I didn’t want all of my gear and clothing to get wet. At last the sun was near the horizon and it was time for me to go.
I broke down my camp and lowered all my gear down to the tarmac. I checked around my little site to make sure I didn’t leave anything behind, then climbed down the drain pipe, uncovered my bike, and packed all my gear into the little trailer. I peddled out of the airport and onto I-10 east after stopping at anther gas station and topping my water supply off.
The Great Wreck Page 21
