The Road to Perdition

by SJ Morris

  “I had a good chat with Peter last night, and he seems all right to me.”

  “Yeah, where’d he get the uniform from? Is he a soldier?”

  “I didn’t ask if he was, but he said he was at a FEMA camp, so they would have given out whatever clothes they had on hand.”

  “Or he killed a soldier and took his clothes to look more important or have new people he met trust him more.”

  “I didn’t think of that, but…”

  I shook my head again, “You have to be leery of everyone, Smith. Taking in the wrong person could get you killed.”

  Grayson, yelling from the back, “I want my Mom,” interrupted our conversation.

  “Calm down, Grayson. It’s okay. Mom is gone. You know that. I’ve got you, buddy,” Peter said calmly as he tried to cradle the scared little boy.

  “Peter, why don’t you bring him up here? We’re going to open up the back so we can use the bathroom and check the area to see if we’re going to have a problem getting out of this snow,” I said breaking up the family drama.

  Peter put a blanket around his son’s shoulders and walked him towards us. I moved aside so they could get up front, and the look Peter gave me didn’t sit right with me. When we broke eye contact, I got another sharp pain in my stomach as if the babies were trying to tell me something again. From that moment on, I was sure there was something off about this man.

  I looked at Smith, but he had missed the visual interaction between Peter and me. I was going to have to keep my gut feeling, if you will, to myself for now, but the second I had proof Peter wasn’t who he claimed to be, he was out.

  Smith turned the EMF on just in case, and we headed for the rear of the truck. I saw a small hatchet attached to the wall and grabbed it. If the infected were vulnerable, I was going to take advantage of the situation as much as possible.

  We stepped out of the back of the truck into a significant drift of snow. It was almost up to Smith’s waist, and I couldn’t help but laugh as he looked around at the snow like it was going to eat him. Then, I realized my thought wasn’t so funny. Snow this deep could very well be hiding one or more of the infected.

  Frozen or not, they could still bite and cause severe damage with death and reanimation to follow shortly after. The thought of the infected under the snow like sharks lurking around us in dark ocean waters filled me with a very rational fear. Suddenly I had to pee even more than I thought. I bet with my luck I would end up kicking a log, believing it was an infected and pee on myself, making this trip outside a waste of time. I was going to take my chances though.

  I used the hatchet to stab down into the snow around me trying to make sure there was no undead within reach at least. Smith was doing the same but with a crowbar in one hand and his other practically twitching on the trigger of his Glock .22. Once I was satisfied there was no undead around me; I slowly made my way through the heavy snow using Smith’s tracks as a guide. The snow was only about a foot deep when we got further away from the drift created by our monster sized truck.

  Smith pointed at the tree line to the right, “If you want to use the bathroom, do it right there. I’m not going to watch, but I want to make sure we can still see each other. Not being able to tell what’s under this snow and knowing for sure that those monsters are out here somewhere has me on edge. Make it quick too, please.”

  “If I have to be out here much longer, I’m pretty sure I’m going to scare myself and pee in my pants anyway, so you don’t have to tell me twice.” I laughed nervously.

  Smith turned, and I could tell he was relieving himself near the tree line on the other side of the road. I, unlike a man, couldn’t just whip it out and pee wherever was most convenient. Especially being pregnant, I needed something to either sit on or lean against. It was much harder trying to use the facilities as a pregnant woman, and I quietly envied my friend.

  I found a large tree and did my poking around with the hatchet routine to make sure there was nothing that might decide to grab me while I was using the facilities. I always found it hard to pee under pressure, no matter how bad I had to go. I hovered leaning against the tree so long my legs started to burn. I had to quiet my mind.

  I looked around again at the trees and the snow and listened to the forest around me. I appreciated how peaceful it felt; it was virtually silent out here. Taking a deep breath, I felt the moisture in the air. I looked up and saw the sun being blotted out by giant, puffy gray clouds. The dense clouds were a sure sign that more snow or even ice was in our future. That would be bad for our chances of getting back to the cabin before nightfall.

  I finally relaxed enough to pee. When I finished, as I was pulling my pants back up, I heard a distant snapping sound. I stood motionless, trying to listen to where it was coming from. I had closed my eyes to focus on the noises better when I felt a hand wrap coldly around my ankle.

  I quickly brought the hatchet down on top of the blue dead arm grabbing at my leg from under the snow. The sharp blade made quick work of the frozen bone and muscle. I was free from its grasp, but it’s body and head were still alive somewhere under the snow, so I chopped down over and over again until I felt the blade sink deeply into what had to be a brain. I pulled the hatchet up, and it was covered in chunky black infected gunk.

  “Are you all right over there?” Smith yelled over to me as I shook the thick muck off of my weapon.

  “Yeah, just a close call with one under the snow, but I got him,” I replied as calmly as possible while my heart pounded practically through my chest from the adrenaline.

  As Smith looked at me, his face turned white. He looked like I had confirmed to a five-year-old that there were monsters under his bed and they were going to grab him and pull him under. I never saw a grown man run so fast and jump so quickly.

  “Oh, don’t worry about little old pregnant me. I’ll make it back just fine by myself.” I yelled sarcastically.

  “I’m looking for any movement under the snow. I’ve got you covered Abby.” Smith replied from the safety of the truck.

  I told myself if I followed his footprints back, I’d be fine, but after what I just experienced, I didn’t believe it. As I finished my thought, the sound of tree limbs snapping and cracking filled the air all around me. I looked up, and one of the trees from behind me was shaking, the heavy snow weighing the branches down was becoming too much for the old tree it seemed, and the whole thing looked like it was coming down.

  “Abby, run!” Smith yelled pointing back at the tree.

  I eagerly obliged and ran as quickly as my swollen, pregnant body would let me. I was almost to the truck when the EMF field hit me, and I vomited right in front of the truck. I looked back just in time as the rest of the tree fell to the ground less than five feet from where I was now standing in last night’s dinner. Smith held his hand out to me as he covered his nose with his coat to avoid the smell of my sickness.

  “Sorry, that EMF crap really screws with me.”

  “No worries. As long as you didn’t get hurt out there, I can deal with a little barf. Let me turn that off by the way.” Smith said as he walked to the cab of the truck.

  I grabbed a bottle of water and rinsed my mouth out, spitting outside before closing the rear doors. As I closed the doors, I noticed the light from outside had caught on something shiny under one of the seats. I locked the doors and looked around for anyone else. I saw no one around, so I investigated the item that had caught my eye. It was an MRE pouch sticking out from under one of the seats. I lifted the cushion and found not only a stash of MRE’s but also a few handguns, boxes of ammo, and a few bottles of water tossed into the compartment.

  I didn’t know if this stuff was in this particular spot before, but I knew the MRE wasn’t sticking out from under the seat, or I would have noticed it. I wasn’t going to say anything for now, but I was going to keep an eye on what was in there from now on. I assumed Peter took us being outside as an opportunity to hide some of our supplies in a spot he could quickly
recover if he needed to bug out at a moment’s notice. I bet Smith running back as quickly as he did interrupted his work, so he had quickly closed the seat, unintentionally leaving the MRE slightly exposed. The problem was, Smith wasn’t looking for Peter’s deception. But I was.

  I felt the truck roar to life, “Are we about to get moving?” I yelled.

  “I’m going to let her warm up a little bit, but we should be on the move in a few minutes,” Smith yelled back to me.

  I walked up front and saw Grayson wrapped in a blanket rocking back and forth on Peter’s lap in the truck’s passenger seat.

  “Do you guys need to go to the bathroom at all? I’m sure you could just open the back doors if you need. You don’t even have to go outside.” I offered.

  “Sure, I think I’ll try that. Grayson, son, do you want to try using the bathroom?” Peter asked, but Grayson ignored Peter’s question and continued to rock silently. “I’ll take him back there and see if I can get him to go.”

  “Do you need any help?” I offered.

  “No, we should be all right but thank you for asking,” Peter said as he stood positioning Grayson to walk in front of him.

  I heard the doors open in the back, and I sat in the passenger seat next to Smith.

  “I think we need to keep a closer eye on Peter,” I whispered.

  “I think you may be right, Abby. When I got back inside before, he seemed like he was hiding something. I asked him if Grayson was okay, and he told me he was fine and that he was just looking for another bottle of water for him. There was already a bottle of water up here that he had been using, and it’s right there. Still half full.”

  I looked at the bottle and shook my head at the thought of helping someone who was trying to deceive us, “We need to find out more about Peter. What is this guy after? I think he was stashing guns, food, and ammo while we were outside. He hid them under one of the seats. He seems to be preparing for a quick getaway.”

  “I hate to say it, but that makes sense. I guess I interrupted him when I ran inside so quickly.”

  In a rush, Grayson came running back to where we were sitting. He looked at me with wide eyes and hugged me tightly. I looked at Smith, and he had the same questioned look I had. Peter rushed back to us trying to pull Grayson off of me, but Grayson started kicking and screaming.

  “Stop! I’ve got him. Leave him be; he’s fine. He’s not hurting anyone.” I said putting my hand up to stop Peter from grabbing the scared child.

  “Okay then. I’ll just close the doors, and we can be on our way then.” Peter said as he stormed away.

  I heard the rear doors slam and lock. I looked over at Smith, and he just shook his head. Neither of us had any idea what the hell was going on now.

  Grayson finally settled for kneeling on the floor in front of me. Putting his head in my lap and sucking his thumb, he wrapped his other arm tightly around my waist. This was very peculiar behavior for an eight-year-old boy, even if he did recently witness the horrific death of his mother.

  I calmed Grayson by rubbing his head softly until he was almost asleep. I looked just behind me and saw Peter watching me like a hawk. I couldn’t tell if he was a father being protective of his son or a threat calculating his next move. I feared it was the latter.

  Smith put the truck in gear, and we each looked at each other, hoping the truck would move forward through the snow and not be stuck. Our hopes were answered as the truck lurched forward. Smith smiled from ear to ear as he dropped the plow and we ran over the practically frozen infected. It was an oddly satisfying feeling to hear the thump of the bodies hitting the scoop and watching them disappear underneath the truck. I had a smile on my face, but I was happy that Grayson was asleep. I didn’t think he would be as delighted watching as I was.

  Chapter 24

  In and out of sleep, Grayson refused to move from my lap. I was getting extremely restless. The drive was taking forever, and I still wasn’t seeing any landmarks I even vaguely remembered. I told myself it was due to the weather. I had never seen these places covered in snow. Smith looked like he was starting to get tired of driving, but I wasn’t sure how Grayson would react to me trying to get up, so I was going to stick it out for as long as Smith was okay continuing on.

  I looked back at Peter, and he was still in the same seat. Still watching me. I felt his eyes on me, and his stare made me very uncomfortable. I wanted to believe he was worried about his son, but Grayson’s behavior and Peter’s glares were making me start to think Grayson might not even be his son.

  I didn’t want to think about that possibility. I had already encountered my fair share of despicable people, so I distracted myself by thinking about what Tyler and Chris were doing this very moment. I imagined they were inside the cabin helping Kristin and Dana make lunch or taking turns getting firewood from outside. In my little dream, the cabin was still safe, and the people I had left behind when Brigantine took me were all out of harm's way.

  What I wouldn’t give to have Tyler lying in my lap right now. I had lost my only daughter and my oldest son. I knew now to cherish every moment like it was your last more than anyone in the world, and that thought made me think about Peter and Grayson again. The way they acted around one another was entirely one-sided, and I had the feeling it wasn’t due to the trauma of Grayson losing his mother. If a kid lost a parent, I would think the child would gravitate towards the remaining parent.

  I looked down at the boy still sucking his thumb, but now he had his eyes wide open. He was looking in the direction Peter was sitting. It was as if he was keeping watch, making sure Peter didn’t come any closer.

  I didn’t want to draw attention to us, so I slowly patted Grayson on his shoulder. I waited for him to look up at me, and when he finally did, his eyes said it all. He was petrified. They were glossed over as if he had been tortured for weeks. I knew that look personally.

  I needed to help this little boy. Whatever the situation was, he was not safe. No matter how good of a liar Peter was. I was going to find out what was really happening and make sure this child was protected from anyone who would do him harm. I rubbed his head again, and he looked away closing his eyes. I was glad he felt comfortable with me, but it had me worried that him feeling safe with me was also going to make me Peter’s next target.

  As a million different ideas swirled in my head, Smith stopped the truck, “I need a break, and I’m starving. How about you guys? Is anyone else hungry?” Smith said with a long stretch and a yawn.

  “I’m eating for three, so you don’t have to ask me twice,” I replied trying to play up the innocent pregnant woman card. Maybe it would make Peter less suspicious of Grayson’s reaction to me.

  I rubbed Grayson’s head a little and spoke softly to him, “I need to get up and get us something to eat. Are you hungry?” He looked up at me, still clearly frightened, but he nodded yes slowly as his stomach growled answering for him as well. “Do you have to go to the bathroom at all first?” His eyes grew huge, and he shook his head no vigorously, “Okay, honey, no bathroom. Stay here, and I will get us some yummy, warm food okay?” He nodded again as he slinked off of my lap and further into the corner of the truck.

  His behavior was starting to worry me more and more. It seemed as if something sinister might have been happening when Smith or I weren’t watching. His overly enthusiastic reaction to being asked about using the bathroom was a huge red flag for me. It made me think Grayson was not Peter’s son and that he may have been using the boy for extremely inappropriate activities. I almost threw up at the mere thought of what he could have done to this innocent child. I wanted to cry as I saw this beautiful young person, who was full of life, being reduced to a quiet, ashamed little mouse because of one disgusting person’s sick desires.

  I looked at Peter. I didn’t want him to think I was on to him, but it was hard not to just slap him in the face or put a bullet in him for what I imagined he was doing. However, I managed to keep up the charade, “How about we g
ive Grayson some space. He seems pretty vulnerable right now,” I said as motherly as I could muster speaking to this human piece of garbage.

  He looked like he was going to put up an argument, but then, he conceded. “Yeah, sure. I guess he’s been with just me for weeks now so maybe he needs a woman’s touch. Thanks.”

  Smith gave me a look that seemed to ask what was going on, and I quickly shook my head no so he would back off. The last thing I needed was Peter getting suspicious that both Smith and I were ganging up on him. I needed Peter’s defenses down, so when the moment was right, I could find out more and deal with whatever the situation actually was. I was hoping that moment would be right when we got to the cabin. I needed more space than this truck allowed to deal with this situation. And Grayson would need others to help him feel safe. My family at the cabin would be perfect for him. Grayson would have other children around so he could just be a kid again. Maybe that would help pull him out of this state he was currently in. We had enough real zombies to worry about. We didn’t need an eight-year-old boy walking around like one too.

  I realized I was banking on the cabin still being there and my family being alive, but I couldn’t bare to even think about the alternative, not after losing so much already. They had to be okay. They just had to.

  I warmed up the chicken with noodles in vegetable sauce MRE using some water and the warming packet, which worked quicker than I expected. It smelled awful, but I was hoping Grayson would eat it. I took it over to him, and he looked at me hesitantly from his spot on the floor. I took a bite and made the yum sound, hoping it would help him trust what I was giving him was good. It wasn’t that bad, so when he hesitated again, I took another much larger bite, and he climbed forward a little. He looked around to see if Peter was near. I leaned closer to him whispering, “Whatever he did to you, I won’t let that happen again. I promise. You are safe with us. Please sit and eat with me. Peter is way in the back making his food.”

  My words made Grayson smile for the first time since I had met him as he crawled out of his hiding spot. He still made sure to be on the side the door was on, so if Peter came back up here, he would be as far away from him as possible using me as a barrier between them. It was a considerable improvement in his behavior though.