Survive Texas Dead

by C. A. Hoaks

  Steve looked up and accepted the cup and allowed another mouthful of tea to pass his lips.

  Della nodded to Zack, and he eased Steve back to the mattress. Millie brought a box of gauze and tapes from the cabin. “I am fixing a meal if that boy will clean those two squirrels he brought back.”

  Della nodded. “After I change the dressings, I’ll come in and help.”

  Darlene stepped out on the back porch. “Anything you want me to do?”

  Della looked up to see Penny peeking from behind her mother. “Just keep watch out front, Darlene. If Penny doesn’t mind, she can sit and help me keep Steve cool.”

  Penny hurried to Della. “Will Mister Steve be better soon?”

  “I hope so.” She answered. Della unwound the dressings on each of Steve’s legs. She used the antibacterial soap and an antiseptic ointment on the open wounds. When Zack brought back fresh water, she used it to dampen towels to lay on Steve’s face and torso. She folded a wet cloth across his forehead, then pushed away and stood just as Millie appeared.

  Millie handed Penny a fan with a wooden handle, a picture of Jesus on one side and the Lord’s Prayer on the other. She patted the child on the head. “Found this inside the cabin. Guess they was God-fearin’ folks. You and Jesus here can watch over our boy while you make a little breeze.”

  Penny accepted the fan and waited patiently while Della finished dressing Steve’s wounds. When she was done, Penny picked up the fan with both hands, made wide sweeping arcs. Della adjusted the child’s grasp and showed her how to make short, even movements. Della pulled the netting closed leaving Penny on the outside fanning with a determination that made Della smile. “Watch him, for me. I’ll be back soon.”

  Della got to her feet and carried the supplies back inside the cabin. She washed her hands and put all the bottle back in the medical bag keeping out the Cipro. She brought the box of supplies inside and sat it next to the medical kit on a corner table.

  When she got back to the kitchen table, she settled into a chair and accepted a bottle of cold water. She pushed the hair from her face as she commented. “I hope this works. It would have been better for an IV and liquid antibiotic solution, but the ranch had nothing like that I could use.”

  Millie turned from cast iron pot on the wood stove. “You’ve done what you can.” She added the last of the pieces of freshly cleaned squirrel into the pot. “He has a chance.” She chuckled. “What’s this I hear about horses?”

  Della smiled. “They followed me home.”

  “That might be a good thing. I ‘magine riding those horses might be a better way to travel sooner than you think.”

  Della shrugged. “I think I’m the only one that’s ever been on a horse.”

  “Wrong. I barrel-raced as a kid.” Darlene called out from the front porch.

  Zack appeared at the back door. “We don’t have saddles. Besides, the only one that acted like he even liked people was the black boy.”

  Della laughed. “That was a mare.”

  “Whatever,” he retorted.

  “They just might be a little skittish from what’s been happening around them. We can work with the horses for a few days, and it’ll make a big difference.

  By dusk, Millie had made biscuits, and the rabbit was cooked in a thick hardy, gravy. “It’s cooled off maybe dat boy should bring Steve back inside?”

  Della sighed. “I think his temperature has gone down a little. I hate to move him, but it’s just not safe to be outside the cabin at night. If any infected stumbled across him, he’d be defenseless, and we couldn’t carry him in fast enough to save him. We’ll bring him inside now that the cabin has cooled off.”

  Millie set the table and readied for the evening meal. She turned down the wick in the kerosene lantern and called out. “Darlene, come on inside. We can keep an eye out from inside, now.”

  Zack took a few minutes to move Steve back into his bed. With Della’s help, he brought the mattress and bedding inside as well.

  Della with a cup of broth in hand walked to the bed where Steve slept. She pulled a pillow from the bunk overhead and slipped it behind him. “Steve? You have to try to drink this.”

  Steve groaned. He turned to face Della’s voice. She scooped a spoon of broth from the cup then brought it to his lips. He opened his mouth and accepted the first mouthful.

  “Not hungry.” He whispered after he swallowed the first spoonful.

  “May is, but you have to eat,” Millie called out. “Finish it. I made it special.”

  “I need to give you more antibiotics, and you need fluids to take them,” Della announced.

  “Bully,” Steve whispered as he accepted more of the broth. Without further argument, Steve finished the brew.

  “Can you drink from a cup?” Della raised the liquid to Steve’s lips.

  After three swallows, he slumped back and sighed. “No more.”

  “You have to take the Cipro.” She held out two pills each cut in half, and she reached for the willow tea.

  “Giving me horse pills,” He let her slip two pills into his mouth and took two long drinks of the tea to wash them down. “Tastes like shit.”

  Della gave him the two remaining pills then shrugged. “Sorry, horses don’t take aspirin.”

  He forced a frown and laid back. Della sat and watched until his breathing grew slow and even again. When she was sure he was asleep, she walked to the kitchen table and filled a plate with biscuit, meat, and gravy. She ate quietly then helped Millie clean up the remains.

  “He’s better?” Millie asked as she sipped willow tea. Della raised a brow and Millie continued. “My arthritis is troublin’ me a might.”

  “I think he’s better. I’m sorry I didn’t find anything you can take for your hands,” Della responded.

  Millie chuckled. “You don’t need to worry ‘bout me.”

  Chapter 10

  Escape

  “Shit!” Brian quickly looked up and down the street and saw dozens of infected stumbled toward the gate. “Go left!” he ordered. “At the next intersection, we can go south. We need to get out of the area.

  Juan guided the van around two stalled cars in front of the ornate church, then up across the medium to avoid more infected in the street. Slowly, they moved further and further from the enormous stone structure. After several turns, they entered an industrial area with concrete buildings with parking lots littered with cars and trucks. Vehicles were still parked neatly between the lines while others exposed the attempts to escape the mayhem. Others ended their escape stuck behind a cluster of cars locked together and blocking the entrance. Many of the doors were flung open, while others contained the remnants of the occupants. It was apparent the infected had caused the chaos.

  “I don’t know about this,” Juan announced. “Lookin’ a little dicey.”

  “Keep going!” Brian ordered. “We have to get through here to get to the blacktop heading south. I have a pretty good idea where we are.”

  Juan steered the van through the labyrinth of vehicles abandoned on the streets. Dozens of infected meandered between the buildings and cars until they heard the motor, then began moving toward the sound.

  “Get moving, man. The natives are getting restless.” Leon advised.

  Juan scowled. “I can’t go any faster!”

  Brian leaned over the seat and pointed to an alley between buildings. “That way, go down the driveway between those buildings.”

  Juan stepped on the gas and dodged the last sedan, taking off the door. He made a quick right and accelerated. At the end of the alley, he followed the asphalt between two rows of small warehouse buildings. The units included rolling overhead doors and side doors. At the end of the building, the alley opened onto a narrow street with a grassy median on the far side.

  “Jefe?” Juan said.

  “Ease out. Let’s see what we can see.” When Juan complied, Brian looked both directions then added. “Left.”

  Juan complied. When the road o
pened up, and the few stalled vehicles had been pushed off the street, he accelerated, and everyone settled back a little more comfortable without the infected slapping on the windows.

  “Keep watch,” Brian ordered. He pulled a paper map from his pocket and scanned the spider web of colored lines. “That’s it!” He announced. “We head south until we get to Pleasanton Road. When we get there, we can head west.”

  “Sí señor.” Juan leaned back in the seat and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the dash and lit one. “I hope it’s not far. We only got a quarter tank of gas.”

  “As soon as we get out of the city we can find gas,” Brian answered.

  The van traveled past smaller groups of infected from abandoned and wrecked vehicles, all the while, Brian directed them further from the city of the famed River Walk and the Alamo. An uncomfortable silence settled over the travelers. They each knew they would never see San Antonio as it had once been again. The dead now owned the city of old churches and magnet for the unique culture of Texas.

  “It’s all gone,” Paula whispered.

  “But we’re alive,” Brian answered. “We’re alive to find a place to rebuild. The dead will decay and disappear one day, and the country will rebuild.”

  “You really think so?” Margo asked, her voice betraying her disbelief.

  “We survived all this time in the midst of all the death. I’m sure we were not the only ones.” Brian answered. He tapped Juan on the shoulder and pointed to sign. “That’s the road. We should find a station soon.”

  The van crested a hill, and suddenly they could see miles of narrow black asphalt ahead. In the distance, a fifty-foot sign advertising gas and food.

  “There!” Leon pointed from the front seat. “I hope they have a beer.” He laughed.

  “I’d settle for a jar of beanie weenies,” Billy announced. “I never liked MREs.”

  “Take it slow. I count half a dozen vehicles in the parking lot.” Brian leaned over Juan’s shoulder. “Bound to be infected.”

  “Should we chance it?” Asked Margo. “Can’t we go somewhere else?”

  Juan snorted as he slipped the van into park. “No. Gas tank’s been on empty for the last five miles. We’ll be walking if we don’t fill up here.”

  “Folks, we got no choice,” Brian said. “Go in slow, Juan. Everyone pay attention and let’s see what we’re facing. If we can, I’d like to get a better vehicle.”

  Juan slipped the van back into gear, and it eased forward. The occupants watched as two infected wondered from behind an eighteen wheeler at the edge of the parking lot. Brian slid open the side door of the van and stepped out with Billy close on his heels. Leon followed with a slam of the door. Brian held up his hand to signal Juan to slow.

  “Paula, watch the side door. If we come running open the door and get outta the way.” Brian ordered before sliding the door closed.

  The trio, with the van following twenty feet behind, walked toward the two infected now focused on them. The taller of the two dead men wore coveralls and appeared to have been a mechanic when alive. The second man had been a graying executive with a comb-over. His dress shirt was in shreds and what remained was covered in dried blood. He shambled toward them on the fleshless bone of a broken ankle barely keeping up with the mechanic.

  Leon used his machete to point toward a heavy-duty pickup truck parked near a big rig. “Maybe we can get that truck.” The hood of the commercial truck cab was open, and a service truck parked in front of it had side compartments left open.

  “Maybe not,” Billy commented.

  “Those two came from over there. I got this.” Leon grinned back at Brian.

  He walked to the tall, thin man and swung with his blade. The man’s head separated from his shoulders and tumbled to the ground as his body collapsed in a heap. The second infected raised his arms to reach out, but Leon made another swing of the machete and took off the man’s arms. The infected barely noticed the loss of his limbs. He took another step forward, and Leon ended him then turned around and gave Brian and Billy a wide grin.

  “Quit horsing around,” Brian ordered. “Look what’s coming.”

  Leon turned back to face more than a dozen infected stumbling toward them. Men, women and even a couple children with horrible gaping wounds made their way toward the trio.

  Brian nodded at Billy, then Leon. “Spread out. Take out the closest and don’t use your gun unless you get into trouble.” He glanced at Juan and held up a fisted hand.

  Juan stopped the van, then called over his shoulder. “Margo, get up here behind the wheel. Pay attention and do what Brian says.”

  Paula climbed around the middle seat to the front seat. Juan opened the door, stepped outside and waited as Paula slipped between the front seats to settle behind the wheel.

  Juan closed the door and said, “Hang back unless we get in trouble then step on the gas.”

  “Got it…just be careful.” Paula answered.

  Juan raised a hand to his head in a mock salute. “Don’t be late.”

  Brian nodded as Juan jogged to Billy’s left and moved forward. “No one gets ahead. Make ‘em choose. Anyone get overrun, the guy next to him helps out.” Juan, Billy, and Leon waved in acknowledgment.

  The infected were confused with so many opportunities to feast. In the end, Juan attracted the attention of a man in a white apron cover in blood. A second infected followed at a limping gate. Brian faced three people in matching blood-splattered jerseys. The arms and faces of all three men were shredded leaving raw strips of flesh.

  Leon laughed a robust sound that filled the unnatural silence of a world with so few living people. Four infected headed for the big black man. The closest monster was huge, at least five hundred pounds. Whatever clothes he had been wearing in life had been pulled from his folds of draping white skin. An apron of flesh hanging over his privates jiggled with each jerking step he took toward Leon. The fat monster’s upper arms waggled and flopped as he reached out toward Leon.

  Billy pointed and started laughing. “Holy shit! Now you don’t see that every day.”

  Brian growled. “PFC, you got two infected looking at you like you’re a steak. Get busy.”

  Billy turned and took a couple steps back. He raised his machete and swung at a teen boy with barely a hint of fuzz on his chin. The infected kid’s glazed over eyes found Billy and turned just in time for the blade to cleave his head.

  Chapter 11

  Being in Charge

  Matt pulled the cover from his watch and saw he missed midnight by seven minutes. He emptied the rest of his bottle of water then got to his feet. Stepping around the people that had chosen the storeroom to sleep in, Matt walked to the front door. He heard a whimper and glanced over at the little girls and saw everyone was still asleep except one little girl who sobbed quietly.

  Matt was still frowning when he stepped around the display shelf and saw Tate silhouetted in the moonlight at the front window.

  “What’s that look for?” She asked.

  He answered with a growl. “That little kid’s crying in her sleep.”

  “They said she’s all alone. All the other children have at least a sibling in the group. She has no one since the bastards killed her folks.”

  “I should have made it slow, for each and every one of them,” Matt snarled.

  Tate sighed. “Can’t change what happened. I’m gonna get some sleep. You’d better decide where we go from here. They all act like you have all the answers, now.”

  “That’s what scares me,” Matt sighed.

  Tate disappeared around a display case, and after a few minutes of shuffling around she settled, and the room fell silent.

  A few moments later Matt could hear the soft whimper of the little girl again. Matt looked out into the night and watched the glow of fires in the distance. It was at least ten maybe fifteen miles away. He wondered what town. Uvalde? Had to be. Could the entire city be burning? How many people? Seems Doc said, fifteen thousand peop
le? They needed to head north and get back to Camp Verde. Then what? Stay or pack everyone up and head up to Pine Springs Canyon. Would the old man take in this many kids?

  Matt ran his hands through his hair. He made a mental calculation of the folks at the camp and realized he had only two dozen adults and over thirty-five kids. Fifty people would be a lot of mouths to feed. Too many to bring to an old man’s door and expect sanctuary for all. He took a deep breath and decided he didn’t need to make a decision tonight. When he got back to the camp, Matt could discuss it with Jake and Larry. He couldn’t just sit at Camp Verde with the Amy and Claire when he knew where they had a family member. He promised Amy he would get her to her grandfather. What if the girls’ mother was at Pine Springs thinking she had lost her daughters? He figured their father, Brian Jameson, was dead since he was on the base the morning of the attack. Amy and Claire deserved to be with family.

  Matt tried to push away the problems of being in charge as he studied the shadows and night slipped away. He pondered the future for the group, his group. Matt decided he had taken his last drink as he pulled a map from a side pocket and a LED light. Matt laid the paper on the counter and ran his fingers down the red lines to Camp Verde. He owed Brian, but he couldn’t make it at the expense of forty-five other people that depended on him. He’d figure out a way to get the girls to their grandfather, but not right away. As lame as it sounded, it was a matter of the greater good.

  Red relieved Matt at three but he was back up by the time the night began to fade, and the glow of the rising sun could be seen behind the distant tree line. Tate walked up behind Matt with two cups of coffee in hand. She handed him one.

  “Well, boss. What’s the plan?” She asked.

  “They go to the camp with us. I have to get the girls we found in San Antonio to Pine Springs Canyon eventually, but for now….”

  “Which girls? What do you know about Pine Springs Canyon?” Tate interrupted.