by Jeannie Rae
"I'm just glad that you’re...” stopping mid-sentence, an eerie feeling washed over Hank.
He spun around in the doorway to find a woman standing inches from his face. Hank recognized his neighbor, Mrs. Thacker. Before he could even react to the sight of her, Jake shoved him out of the way. Hank went tumbling to the ground, as his gun slid under the table, from the open holster. The cat scrambled across the vinyl, running off into the store.
Jake reached for his gun, tucked in his waistband, when lady Thacker charged him. Her rotting teeth and bleeding gums had already sunk into the side of his neck. Fighting to free himself from the woman, Jake toppled over on top of her, outside the door. The impact of hitting the ground dislodged the woman from his throat, taking with her a huge helping of flesh. Jake shifted over onto his back gripping his throat. Blood dripped down lady Thacker’s chin and chest, staining her floral night gown. She rolled to her side toward Jake, before quickly sitting up and slamming both of her hands on the ground. Plumes of dust puffed into the air. Her damp hair clung to her pale face, and her black, soulless eyes locked onto her prey. Lowering her head, staring at Jake’s injured neck like some sort of starved animal, she slid her knees beneath her to move back in on him.
Retrieving the gun, Hank scrambled to the door. Taking aim at the woman's head, he fired the pistol, the gunshot echoing through the corn field.
Mary and Joe dashed outside to help Jake in as Hank stood watch for any others. Hank closed and locked the door after taking one last look around.
Joe eased Jake onto the vinyl floor. Jake tightly gripped his throat as blood spilled through his fingers and began to form a pool beneath his head. Mary held her hands over Jake’s in an effort to control the bleeding, while Kate began rifling through the kitchen cabinets. Finding a stack of towels in a drawer near the sink, Kate rushed them to Mary’s side.
“Jake, put these on the wound,” Mary's voice quivered. With trembling hands, she passed him the stack of towels.
“Is it bad? I can’t really feel it,” he asked, taking the towels with a shaky hand and pressing them against his throat.
“Can you do me a favor Kate? There is some duct tape in the top drawer, next to the stove. Can you bring it over here?” Hank asked as he knelt down over Jake.
Kate nodded with a frightened look on her face, rushing the tape to Hank.
“I’ll tape it up for him Hank,” Mary extended her bloody hand.
“Alright, tape it really tight,” Hank said, handing her the roll.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Dave leaned back in his chair, observing the mechanic shop. The group outside were silent now, almost as if they had moved on. He had no interest in going out and checking—and his idea of bunking here for the night seemed like the best option. Why go back out there, when we’re secure in this shop? He eyed Roxy hanging up the telephone, and shaking her head. He could see that she had all but lost patience, having been the eighth or ninth time she’d tried to call home.
“How old is she, your sister?” Dave probed.
“Kate? She’s fourteen,” Roxy sighed. “What about you Dave, you must have family that’s worried about you?”
“No family. Just uh, a couple buddies that hang out at The Horse sometimes. But that’s it,” he started to pop his knuckles.
“The Horse?” She raised an eyebrow, grinning.
“Oh, The Crazy Horse. It’s a bar over near Saddle Brook Park. I’m the bouncer there. Well…was the bouncer. All hell broke loose there tonight, and the bar caught fire. When I split, it was an inferno,” he smirked.
“So were you headed home, when I saw you in Saddle Brook Park?”
“No. I was staying in an apartment above the bar. So, I’m pretty sure it’s all up in smoke now. Home, job, all that. I was actually headed to one of these warehouses to stay for the night. The streets over on the other side of the park looked like a riot scene. The closer to the hospital you got, the worse it was. I guess after being bitten by raging lunatics, people probably thought that the hospital would be the place to go,” he said.
“You don’t have any family or do they just live outside of Port Steward or something?” She questioned.
“Well, my parents died when I was fourteen, in a car wreck. No sibs. I had a couple aunts and uncles that weren’t very close to my parents and none of them would take me in. So I went in the system. I was a foster kid in about six different homes over a span of three years. I picked up some destructive habits and eventually was popped for grand theft auto when I was seventeen. It was a wakeup call for me. I was in a tailspin and needed to make some changes, before I ended up in prison. A couple months later, I was eighteen and enlisted in the Marines. I was discharged three months ago. One of my old buddies from high school hooked me up at The Crazy Horse, while I figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Now you know my whole life story, maybe we can make it into a TV movie. You’re turn. Tell me about you and your family,” he grinned, a little embarrassed about how he’d just gone on and on. It had been a while since he’d had someone to tell his story to.
“I bet you’ve been all over the world, being in the Marines for what four years or so?”
“Six years and yeah, here and there, I have a lot of stories. Maybe if we survive this night, I'll tell you about them sometime,” he grinned.
He watched Roxy pop her neck and draw in a deep breath through her petite nose. She began to talk while staring deep into his eyes. Her brown eyes and disarming facial expression gave Dave a feeling he hadn’t had in quite some time. He felt comfortable, relaxed, as though they were old friends.
“I live with my Dad and sister north of Sandy Dunes Campground, with the ladies,” she said motioning to the sleeping pooches on the ground. “I always planned on moving out right after high school, but about two years ago my mom died, also—a car accident. It was a hit and run. I remember the day she died like it was last week. We had just had a funeral for my grandfather—her dad—only days before. He was killed in a work-related fire. My uncle Eddie stopped by the house that day. They got into an argument and he left shortly after. About an hour later, my mom took a call from the estate lawyer. Then she said she needed to take care of something and would be right back. At the time, I was mad at her for not letting me go to Sophia Jepson’s party…I never even said goodbye to her when she left.
“We’re still trying to put things back together—she was the heart of our family. My dad needs help to keep everything going, and with Kate. There are some things that a teenager just can’t tell her dad. I had planned on going to college on the West Coast,” Roxy looked off in the distance.
Dave understood what it was like to have your normal seeming life turned upside-down. She put herself and her dreams on the back burner to help her family. A kind thing to do, but it was as clear as freshly cleaned window that Roxy wanted more. Dave knew all too well, that if she waits too long, her chances of following her dreams will begin to evaporate.
“Are you in college now or on a break from school?” Dave questioned.
“Uh, well...” she paused for a moment. “I’m studying marine biology at the Junior College this year and next. Then I’d like to transfer to a University. In the meantime, I am a SCUBA instructor down on the cape for The Scuba Cabana.”
Roxy perked her head up, her eyes darting around the room.
“Do you smell that?” She whispered, inhaling through her nostrils.
Dave gave doubtful sniff to the air, “No. I don't smell anything but grease and engine cleaner in this place,” he studied Roxy.
“It’s sweat. Someone else is here,” she froze in place. Her head cocked to the side as if she were trying to hear something. Her eyes peeled open as though she were in some sort of trance.
Dave looked at her as if she had lost her mind. Pulling his shirt collar up to his nose, he discretely sniffed, it smelled odorless to him. After a moment, he began to feel a little uneasy.
“Who is in here with us and whe
re are they?” He whispered, looking over his shoulder.
“Right here,” a voice twanged from what looked like a storage closet across the shop, beneath the overhead loft. His southern enunciation was unmistakable. Kentucky—Dave guessed. Emerging from the darkened doorway, the man had on auburn cowboy boots that poked out beneath his dark blue, painted on, denim jeans. He wore a white tee shirt with a picture of an electric guitar on the front. He had his shaggy, blonde hair parted to the side, looking almost like a comb over, but plenty of hair topped his head. A barely-there, blonde mustache shaded his lip, and in his hands, he held a double barrel, pump-action shotgun.
Roxy and Dave stood at the sight of the man with the gun, neither saying a word, just standing there, as if their voices had left them entirely. His presence alerted the dogs. Standing next to Roxy, the dogs barked obnoxiously, a warning to the stranger to stay back. Roxy swung out her open-palm signal to the dogs, silencing them. They sat next to her, stalking the stranger, on guard.
“Them are some good lookin' dogs, trained pretty good too. Now, the way I see it, y'all are trespassin,” he looked at them with a half grin on his face, as though he were amused.
Roxy opened her mouth to speak, but the words never found their way out.
“I can shoot you where you stand. And I'd be right in doin' it,” he paused and moseyed closer. His walk seemed more like a stroll, slow and legs loose. “Why did you pick my garage to break into? There's plenty to choose from on this street, why this one? Ain’t nothin’ valuable here, just some broken down cars and greasy tools.”
“It’s secure. Thick, concrete walls, high windows and only a couple of doors in and out, make it an ideal place to hide out from those…things. Plus you've got the fence around the backside, as added protection,” Dave said modestly. “We were just looking for a safe place to stay, that’s all. Those things are all over, chased us right up to the door.”
The man nodded with a smirk on his face, “Are either of ya bit?”
“No,” Dave said.
“No,” Roxy squeaked out.
“Well, then I guess you're welcome to stay here for a while. I was just giving you a hard time. Never had anybody break into my place before, so I thought I'd give my best tough-guy-act a whirl. So tell me, what'd ya think?” He smiled and loosened his grip on the gun.
Roxy and Dave exchanged looks of relief. Smiling, Roxy said, “It was great, very intimidating.”
“Ooooo doggy! I knew I was pulling it off! I ain't pulled one off like that in a long time!” he squealed.
“I’m Roxy, and these are my dogs. This is Dave, I met him in the park tonight. Do you know what’s going on out there?” She gestured to the door.
“Where are my manners? Ma'am, my name a Matt, but my friends call me Mattie,” he reached out and shook their hands. “It's crazy out there. People out there are turning into cannibals, it's somethin’ awful. All I know, is it's the bites that are spreading the sickness.”
“Have you heard anything, like on the radio or TV?” Roxy asked.
“Hell yeah! They are saying all kinds of crazy shit. I have a loft, you guys come up. You can leave your dogs down here,” he started in the direction of the doorway from which he appeared.
“Do you want to come up?” Dave asked. He had begun to follow Mattie, when he turned back to see that Roxy hadn't moved.
“Nah, I'll stay here with the ladies,” she said nonchalantly. “They go everywhere with me.”
Dave looked to Mattie.
“Okay, they can come. It's no biggy. It's not like a museum up there or anything. I just thought that they might keep an ear out in case anything or anyone else tries to get in. Bring ‘em on up.”
They crossed the storage room to a narrow staircase that led up to a black hole in the roof of the room. Mattie led the ascension up into the darkness. Flicking on a switch near the open doorway, at the top of the stairs, light illuminated the room. Just inside the doorway, a medium sized window offered a view of the shop. The studio loft was modest in size, with a sofa, coffee table and 19” Zenith television on one end. On the far side of the room, is a bed against the wall with one night stand and a dresser beside it, and on the other side of the wood paneled wall—a kitchenette, followed by a pair of narrow, open doors. The nearest door is to a small closet and the other is a tiny bathroom. The high windows that Roxy observed on the exterior are lined along the wall in the kitchen and bedroom areas, and from up here in the loft, lend a view out to Hell’s Canyon.
“Well ladies and gent's, this is the pad. Make yourself comfortable. Let's see what the news is saying now,” Mattie set down the shotgun on the coffee table and picked up the remote control and clicked on the television. A generic emergency broadcast system screen displayed, with no sound.
“Well hell, it looks like they’ve gone off the air. Ain’t that a crapshoot? I’ll just leave it on, in case they come back on. I’m gonna get back on the HAM radio and see if I can find anything out in the meantime,” Mattie announced, motioning to the slim closet door near the bathroom. “I may just be a country boy, but I think this is gonna be big. What’re y’all thinkin’ 'bout all this?”
Dave looked at the pair of them all looking to each other, mere strangers just two hours ago. Now hunkered down in the mechanic's shop together, seeking refuge with one another from the horrors that lie behind the walls of concrete that give them a feeling of safety.
“If it's okay,” Roxy began, “I’d like to stay overnight. I need to find my family and haven’t been able to reach them all night. But I don't think it would be smart to leave tonight, especially since I totaled my car and—well, the bus wreck out front. Maybe things will be more under control in the morning, and it would be better traveling in the light,” Roxy admitted, shifting her eyes to Dave.
“Well, I 'm with her. I want to help her find her family and try to get somewhere safe. It would be cool if we could crash here tonight,” Dave said.
Mattie looked at them, his fingers grasping the tiny bit of fuzz on his upper lip
“Well, tell ya what. I've got an idea,” an enormous smile stretched across his face. “I have a truck, if we can stop by to pick up my sister, I would be glad to help you find your family. Where are they, anyhow and where are y’all planning to go?”
“I don't know where they are,” Roxy sighed wringing her hands together. “I've been trying to call all night but all circuits are busy, and the few times that I have gotten through, it goes straight to voicemail. My dad has a beach house he inherited from my grandpa on the east end of the cape, in an undeveloped area near the Port Steward Wildlife Preserve. There really isn’t anything nearby. No stores or other houses for at least a mile, it should be safe. I think that’s where he would go, once he finds out that our house isn’t an option. I think it would be the best place for us to go.”
“Don’t you worry. If they’re even half as resourceful as the pair of you, then they’re bound to be safe. Y'all are welcome to stay out here on the couch and floor for the night if you’d like. I don’t get much visitors, so sorry for the cramped space. It’d be best if ya gottcha selves some sleep and we’ll leave bright and early in the morn,” Mattie pulled the blanket off his bed and set it on the back of the couch. “Sorry, just the one blanket.”
“Thanks, this will be just fine,” Roxy said looking to Dave. She reached down and scratched Rogue on the head, as the ladies settled on the floor beside the couch.
Mattie walked through the slim door next to the bathroom and closed it behind him.
“You take the couch. I’ll take the floor,” Dave said, reaching for the comforter.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Shotgun maneuvered the SUV tactfully, steering between abandoned and wrecked cars in the darkness, on the Dixon Street. The few infected in the road were moving slowly, and seemed not to notice the slow-moving vehicle with its lights off. The remaining core guards inside were silent, the situation with Walker weighing heavily on their minds in this
early morning hour. The only sounds were the incessant pings of Junior and Rhino’s phones.
The gridlock extended several blocks. Ahead on their side, three lanes of red tail lights were aglow in contrast to the white and yellowish headlights shining from the three lanes on the other side. The stop light ahead changed from green to yellow, then red, yet all the vehicles were at a standstill. No sounds of horns blaring or citizens shouting, the traffic riddled street sounded nearly silent at this hour. The vehicles were mostly sedans and compact cars, although there were a few pickup trucks and sports utility vehicles. A small red hatchback had pulled out of traffic and rested near a street lamp, with its front end smashed, while steam drifted from under the hood.
The businesses on either side of the traffic were closed, but that didn’t stop thieves from busting out windows and retrieving valuables contained within. A handful of looters ran in and out of the buildings on Dixon, while law enforcement was nowhere to be found. They ran with stereos, laptop computers and fur coats from the Penny Saver Pawn Shop, down the ravaged road, using the chaos to their advantage. Blood seemed to be on everything, the street, the cars and the few slow-moving infected scattered about further up the road. It almost looked as if the sky itself had rained blood.
“It looks like the traffic from earlier never got a chance to clear out before they were hit by the infected,” Junior said, looking out the window of the SUV.
“The low jack signal isn't far. Buzz and Doyle's vehicle should be up ahead,” Rhino said, looking at his phone.
“Yeah, their phones are there too. GPS reads them at the same approximate location,” Junior said, glancing at his phone, then over Rhino’s shoulder.
Shotgun pulled over on the sidewalk. Buzz & Doyle's SUV could be seen forty feet ahead, parked in the middle of the street, amidst a sea of empty vehicles. The air looked dense with smoke, rolling in thick and swift, blanketing the surrounding area. There were at least three smoldering vehicles and a warehouse burning itself out in the distance. Rhino and Junior exited the vehicle from the back seats. They had changed back into their Angora security uniforms shortly after arriving at the lab. Boots followed them out from the back seat, still wearing his street clothes, never having an opportunity to change before they left to look for Buzz and Doyle. Randy and Shotgun followed them out of the truck as they all pulled their weapons in the ready position, switching the safeties off. A few infected were shuffling about the rows of parked cars, with none particularly close, the men moved in on the SUV, trying not to be detected.
