Haven (Book 1): Journey

by Switzer, Brian M.

  “It’s ridiculous,” Danny protested.

  Will detected movement in his side mirror and turned. Tara and David were out of their trucks and approaching. He opened his door and stepped out, motioning them back toward their vehicles.

  “Well I’m sorry if you’re unhappy with the route, Danny,” Justin said, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot. “But the route is what the route is. I happened to have worked for a long time trying to figure it out, and I’m a little insulted that you’re questioning it.”

  Danny looked at Will and rolled his eyes. Will shot himself in the head with his finger and fell back in his seat.

  “I’ll tell you what though, Danny,” Justin went on, “if you’re that dissatisfied with the job I’m doing I’d be happy to drive and let you take over the navigating.”

  “Justin honey, nobody is unhappy with the job you’re doing,” Becky said in a soothing voice. “Everybody appreciates all your hard work.” She patted his knee for emphasis.

  “Well they should,” Justin said, still petulant. “It’s not easy, and it takes a lot of time.”

  “Jesus wept,” muttered Danny, laying his forehead on the steering wheel.

  “Drive, boy,” Will growled.

  “I’m driving,” Danny sighed. He dropped the truck into gear and the caravan rolled on.

  They rolled along for an hour, making steady progress west and south. They drove by a group of creepers in a field, huddled around a fallen cow. The creeper’s upper bodies were awash in blood as they wolfed down organs and chunks of cow flesh. Their heads turned in unison, following the passing caravan, but they were content to stay with the prize on hand rather than pursue a new one.

  They were driving west on Highway DD. “Look at that,” Danny said, pointing at the horizon.

  Will looked ahead to what he was pointing to; great, billowing columns of white smoke rose in the distance, filling into the November sky.

  “That’s too much smoke to be a farm or a pasture,” Danny observed. “And it’s too spread out- it covers a wide area.”

  “Well, at least the smoke’s white,” Will said. “That usually means whatever was on fire is just smoldering now. Justin, what’s up ahead?”

  “A little town called Miller,” Justin answered at once, without consulting his map.

  “How little?”

  “712 people.”

  “Have you got a workaround for it?”

  “Of course,” Justin said, in a tone of voice that suggested Will had asked him if he was wearing pants. “The route we’re on doesn't really take us through town, though. We just skirt a few blocks of the Northwest corner.”

  “Okay. Be ready to tell me how to get out of here if I ask.”

  They passed a couple of small farms, a smattering of houses, and then a high school football field. The school was on the outskirts north of town; they passed it and turned south. Smoke drifted in front of them, first in misty threads, and then blankets. Danny brought the Ford to a stop, and they looked at what had become of the town.

  The fire spared the school. Beyond it, there wasn’t a building standing. Smoke rose in tendrils from small piles of ash and billowed from the mounds of rubble left where homes and businesses burned. Some of them were still ablaze, though the fires were sputtering.

  “The whole town?” Becky said in wonder. “Will, how could that happen?”

  Will shrugged his shoulders. “There’s no telling, Becks. Someone could have started the fire on purpose and made sure it burned everything. It could have started as one fire that grew and grew with no one to fight it. Could be a lot of things.” He gave her a pat on her knee. “No use wondering about it. We’ve got road to drive.”

  He turned his attention to Danny. “Drive on, Jeeves.”

  Danny dropped the truck into gear, looked out the side window, and froze. Moving as if he was in a trance, he brought the shifter back up to park, never taking his eyes off the window.

  Will followed his gaze and blanched. “Christ in a sidecar.” His mouth curled in disgust.

  Danny let loose a string of curses, and Justin and Becky craned their necks to find out what the commotion was about. Becky cried out with shock when she saw.

  Three creepers had emerged from behind the rubble fifty feet from the truck. Two were on foot; behind them, the third pulled itself forward with its arms. They were burned to a crisp. Wisps of smoke danced from their blackened skin. Their hair, noses, ears, and lips had burned away. Their skin had roasted until it cracked open; a clear, thick fluid seeped from the cracks.

  Danny tittered. “Check it out, Will. I guess if you cook them long enough that black gunk that runs through them loses its color.”

  The upright creepers walked slower and jerkier than most of the dead- they had cooked so crisply they couldn’t bend at their joints. Will’s stomach did a slow roll when he took a close look at the creeper in the rear, the one that pulled itself along. As it dragged across the ground, globs of its flesh sloughed off, leaving a trail of gore to mark its path.

  A truck door slammed shut in the silence. Will spun around and saw Jiri with his ax over his shoulder, walking away from the Expedition, toward the creepers. The big professor whistled and the creeper’s heads swiveled in his direction. The upright pair turned toward him, their movements stiff; the crawler’s focus stayed on the truck. Jiri tilted his head and watched the creepers creak toward him. One of them tried to walk faster than its ruined body allowed, lost its balance, and toppled forward. It didn’t try to stop the fall or protect itself. When its head struck the pavement it burst like a rotten pumpkin, making a wet ‘splat’ that was audible inside the truck. Jiri winced, then chuckled.

  He crossed his legs and rested his weight against the ax handle, making the second creeper struggle all the way to him. He’s going to screw around and get himself bit, Will thought. It looks like it’s time for the ‘always take the creepers serious no matter what’ speech. When the creeper got close to Jiri it tried to reach for him but its fried arms only extended a few inches. It lunged for the meal in front of it instead, and Jiri simply side-stepped out of its way. The creeper sprawled to the ground. It fell arms-first, so it avoided the face-plant suffered by the first creeper. Jiri’s ax rose and fell and the blackened husk ceased to move as its head rolled away from its body.

  Jiri put down the crawler, cleaned the ax blade with its shirt, and jogged back to the Expedition. He shot Will a sardonic salute as he passed, and then disappeared into the cavernous SUV’s back seat.

  “Let’s get out of here before we call out more of those things,” Will said.

  Danny nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay with never again seeing a crispy-critter creeper. Those things were nastier than a rat-asshole sandwich.”

  Justin’s eyebrows squished together. “A rat what?”

  “A rat-asshole sandwich. Lots of people ate them after the war. You’re probably too young to remember.”

  “Danny, I’m a year older than you.”

  “Is that right?”

  “And what war?”

  “Anyway, Regina Sloppinsnatch used to make them for me. The girl couldn’t cook at all, but nobody cared because she had a rack that men die for. I remember this one time...”

  Will chuckled to himself and quit listening. He looked out the window as they left the ruined town behind. Fried creepers, he thought. What other damned thing are we going to see on this trip?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  * * *

  They rolled along for an hour, making steady progress west and south. They drove by a group of creepers in a field, huddled around a fallen cow. The creeper’s upper bodies were awash in blood as they wolfed down organs and chunks of cow flesh. Their heads turned in unison, following the passing caravan, but they were content to stay with the prize on hand rather than pursue a new one.

  They were driving west on Highway DD. “Look at that,” Danny said, pointing at the horizon.

  Will looked ahead to
what he was pointing to; great, billowing columns of white smoke rose in the distance, filling into the November sky.

  “That’s too much smoke to be a farm or a pasture,” Danny observed. “And it’s too spread out- it covers a wide area.”

  “Well, at least the smoke’s white,” Will said. “That usually means whatever was on fire is just smoldering now. Justin, what’s up ahead?”

  “A little town called Miller,” Justin answered at once, without consulting his map.

  “How little?”

  “712 people.”

  “Have you got a workaround for it?”

  “Of course,” Justin said, in a tone of voice that suggested Will had asked him if he was wearing pants. “The route we’re on doesn’t really take us through town, though. We just skirt a few blocks of the Northwest corner.”

  “Okay. Be ready to tell me how to get out of here if I ask.”

  They passed a couple of small farms, a smattering of houses, and then a high school football field. The school was on the outskirts north of town; they passed it and turned south. Smoke drifted in front of them, first in misty threads, and then blankets. Danny brought the Ford to a stop, and they looked at what had become of the town.

  The fire spared the school. Beyond it, there wasn’t a building standing. Smoke rose in tendrils from small piles of ash and billowed from the mounds of rubble left where homes and businesses burned. Some of them were still ablaze, though the fires were sputtering.

  “The whole town?” Becky said in wonder. “Will, how could that happen?”

  Will shrugged his shoulders. “There’s no telling, Becks. Someone could have started the fire on purpose and made sure it burned everything. It could have started as one fire that grew and grew with no one to fight it. Could be a lot of things.” He gave her a pat on her knee. “No use wondering about it. We’ve got road to drive.”

  He turned his attention to Danny. “Drive on, Jeeves.”

  Danny dropped the truck into gear, looked out the side window, and froze. Moving as if he was in a trance, he brought the shifter back up to park, never taking his eyes off the window.

  Will followed his gaze and blanched. “Christ in a sidecar.” His mouth curled in disgust.

  Danny let loose a string of curses, and Justin and Becky craned their necks to find out what the commotion was about. Becky cried out with shock when she saw.

  Three creepers had emerged from behind the rubble fifty feet from the truck. Two were on foot; behind them, the third pulled itself forward with its arms. They were burned to a crisp. Wisps of smoke danced from their blackened skin. Their hair, noses, ears, and lips had burned away. Their skin had roasted until it cracked open; a clear, thick fluid seeped from the cracks.

  Danny tittered. “Check it out, Will. I guess if you cook them long enough that black gunk that runs through them loses its color.”

  The upright creepers walked slower and jerkier than most of the dead- they had cooked so crisply they couldn’t bend at their joints. Will’s stomach did a slow roll when he took a close look at the creeper in the rear, the one that pulled itself along. As it dragged across the ground, globs of its flesh sloughed off, leaving a trail of gore to mark its path.

  A truck door slammed shut in the silence. Will spun around and saw Jiri with his ax over his shoulder, walking away from the Expedition, toward the creepers. The big professor whistled and the creeper’s heads swiveled in his direction. The upright pair turned toward him, their movements stiff; the crawler’s focus stayed on the truck. Jiri tilted his head and watched the creepers creak toward him. One of them tried to walk faster than its ruined body allowed, lost its balance, and toppled forward. It didn’t try to stop the fall or protect itself. When its head struck the pavement it burst like a rotten pumpkin, making a wet ‘splat’ that was audible inside the truck. Jiri winced, then chuckled.

  He crossed his legs and rested his weight against the ax handle, making the second creeper struggle all the way to him.He’s going to screw around and get himself bitten, Will thought.It looks like it’s time for the ‘always take the creepers serious no matter what’ speech.When the creeper got close to Jiri it tried to reach for him but its fried arms only extended a few inches. It lunged for the meal in front of it instead, and Jiri simply side-stepped out of its way. The creeper sprawled to the ground. It fell arms-first, so it avoided the face-plant suffered by the first creeper. Jiri’s ax rose and fell and the blackened husk ceased to move as its head rolled away from its body.

  Jiri put down the crawler, cleaned the ax blade with its shirt, and jogged back to the Expedition. He shot Will a sardonic salute as he passed, and then disappeared into the cavernous SUV’s back seat.

  “Let’s get out of here before we call out more of those things,” Will said.

  Danny nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay with never again seeing a crispy-critter creeper. Those things were nastier than a rat-asshole sandwich.”

  Justin’s eyebrows squished together. “A rat what?”

  “A rat-asshole sandwich. Lots of people ate them after the war. You’re probably too young to remember.”

  “Danny, I’m a year older than you.”

  “Is that right?”

  “And what war?”

  “Anyway, Regina Sloppinsnatch used to make them for me. The girl couldn’t cook at all, but nobody cared because she had a rack that men die for. I remember this one time...”

  Will chuckled to himself and quit listening. He looked out the window as they left the ruined town behind. Fried creepers, he thought. What other damned thing are we going to see on this trip?

  The gas station had been a big Conoco before the outbreak. It sat well off the road, surrounded by an asphalt parking lot. Crushed gravel covered the remainder of the lot. Several outbuildings sat behind the station and three big aboveground fuel tanks took up the far corner of the lot. A handful of cars sat in the parking lot, but they all looked like beaters. Will decided to make room for the Buick’s passengers in the other trucks and leave the car and its empty gas tank behind.

  Exhausted, he wanted nothing more than to curl up with Becky in a sleeping bag and catch a few hours of sleep. But first, there was work to do. He put together two teams to clear the station and the outbuildings. Once they checked every nook and cranny for the dead (each team found and quickly dispatched one creeper) he headed up a third team, this one tasked with scavenging the grounds. They conducted a methodical search of the Conoco and the outbuildings for anything that could be useful. It was apparent from the start that other crews had hit the place many times. A couple of moldy blankets and a dull set of kitchen knives was all that they found.

  “That was a bust,” Will said. He leaned against the side of an outbuilding, eyes closed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. Coy and Danny stood on either side of him, and Sally sat patiently at Coy’s feet.

  Will sighed, opened his eyes and stood up straight. He looked at the younger men. “What do you think- we’ve got about an hour of daylight left?”

  “Forty-five minutes, maybe,” said Coy.”

  “Where’s George?”

  “I think he’s out in front of the station.”

  “Okay. I need to talk to him.” He led the two men and the dog along the back of the station, around the side and toward the lot out front. His legs ached and he had to push himself to keep up a brisk pace as they walked. They rounded the last corner and joined the rest of the group in front of the building. They were scattered around the station front in clusters of two or three, enjoying the reprieve from the road. Will was gratified that, in his and Danny’s absence, someone set up a perimeter- four people at the edge of the parking lot, watching in each direction.

  George stood alone, hunched over with his back to the wind. His ball cap was pulled low over his head and he was trying to light one of his stinky home-rolled cigarettes. He saw Will approaching and pocketed his smoke.

  “How much longer, Georgie?” Will asked. He fi
gured he’d have to wait while George worked through his thought process but the old man surprised him.

  “About thirty miles straight down this here road, with a few turns at the end,” George said.

  “So thirty minutes at normal driving speeds?”

  George pondered a moment, scratching his head, then smiled. “Yep. Yes, sir. That sounds just about right.”

  Will smiled. “Thanks, George,” He said in a gentle voice, clapping the older man on the back.

  George beamed like a third-grader who’d been complimented by the teacher.

  Will stepped back. “Everybody gather around,” he said in a loud voice. Becky was the first to make it over, and he took her delicate hand in his large, rough one and waited. David and Kathy were the last to arrive and Will began.

  “Here’s the deal. We’ve got a little over a half hour of daylight left. The place we’re going, with luck, is an hour, hour and a half away. Now, in the whole time we’ve been together we’ve never traveled at night, and we’re not going to start now.” He paused while a handful grumbled and groaned, then resumed speaking. “We’re going to get some food in us and bed down here tonight, then get an early start in the morning. With luck, we can be there before nine.”

  “Excuse me, Will?” David said in a tentative voice.

  “Yeah, Dave.”

  “Not to argue with your plan, but if we’re that close why not load up and drive the rest of the way? If it’s only ninety minutes away, I mean. I sure would love to get this trip behind us, and I’m sure I’m not alone.”

  “I said ninety minutes with luck, David. We don’t have a clue what the road will be like or what obstacles there might be. It could take five hours instead of ninety minutes. It that’s the case, I’d much rather roll up on the place at two in the afternoon than two in the morning. We don’t have any idea what security will be like. If I controlled a place like that, and four trucks I’d never seen before came rolling up in the dark, I’d shoot first and ask questions. I want to be able to see what we’re dealing with when we get close.” He looked at David intently, hoping the retired jeweler was through.