by Dirk Patton
Frozen for half a second I stared at the twitching corpse then swiveled to scan the driveway. I didn’t see any additional threats, but then I hadn’t seen the female that had just nearly killed me. Standing up I kicked the corpse out of the garage and jerked the door down, slapping a locking pin home to secure us inside.
“How do I shut the engine off,” Rachel asked out the open driver side window. “We don’t need to asphyxiate ourselves after surviving this long.”
Opening the door I reached across her bare legs and disconnected the two wires that kept the engine running. The diesel clattered to a stop and silence descended in the garage, the ticking of the cooling engine the only sound.
I rolled the truck window up, locked the door and after telling Rachel to stay put I closed her in the cab. The next ten minutes were spent checking the entire garage and office area and making sure all the entrances were secure. Satisfied at last I returned to the truck and motioned Rachel out.
Stepping stiffly down from the cab she looked down at the puddle of blood on the floor from the infected I had shot, then her gaze moved to the front driver side tire which was completely flat. A whole the size of a half dollar was visible in the sidewall.
Unlike in the movies where you see the hero shoot someone in the head and everything behind that person gets splattered in only blood and brains, in real life there’s also a bullet that exits the back of the head and can still cause damage. The shot I was so proud of had exited the infected woman’s head and torn through the sidewall of the tire.
My body cried for sleep, but I wasn’t going to rest without making sure our transportation was ready to go. Finding a floor jack I raised the truck and got the tire changed. I searched the garage but they apparently didn’t sell tires so we were stuck going forward without a spare. I still put the ruined tire and wheel into the back of the truck in case we could find a replacement tire as we traveled.
Next I inspected the truck for damage. The gleaming push bar on the front bumper was now scuffed and scratched from pushing our way out of the ambush, but it was still solid. There were numerous bullet holes in the truck’s sheet metal and glass as well as the cracked rear window from the infected female that had tried to head butt her way in. I reinforced the glass as best I could with duct tape.
Raising the hood I checked over the engine. Hoses and belts were good, oil and coolant were fine as well. Closing the hood I looked to the back of the garage bay and noticed a roll of heavy gauge wire mesh. Having seen how quickly our windows were failing I dragged the wire over to the truck then went in search of tools.
I had finished covering the back window with the wire mesh, cut to size and attached around the edge of the glass with sheet metal screws into the truck’s body, when Rachel returned. She was barefoot and wearing a set of mechanics coveralls that would have been large on me, and she had wet hair and a clean face.
“Think that will stop them?” She asked, combing her fingers through her hair.
“It will at least slow them down,” I answered, driving the first screw for one of the side windows. “You look better.”
“I feel better. I’m just glad the water is still on.”
Rachel watched me work for a few moments, then stepped up beside me and started helping. Working together we had all of the truck’s glass covered in less than an hour. Stepping back I appraised our handiwork. It wasn’t pretty, but I doubted the glass by itself would survive another day.
We spent another half hour gathering jugs of motor oil, anti-freeze, brake fluid, anything we thought the truck might need and got it all stowed securely in the bed of the pick-up. I found a couple of cans of pressurized tire inflator/sealer and threw them in with the haul.
We filled every bottle we could find with water from the small sink in the bathroom off the garage office and secured it in the back seat. Two tool boxes full of tools I picked out went into the bed and were strapped down tightly.
Finally I searched the entire building for weapons, but found nothing except a rusting filet knife. Never knowing what use it could be put too, I tossed it into the truck and headed to the bathroom to clean up as best I could.
Exhausted, but cleaner, I returned to the truck to find Rachel curled up on the back seat fast asleep. Careful so as not to wake her I crawled into the front and lay across the seat on my back. I fell asleep in seconds, the pistol resting on my stomach with my right hand lying on top of it.
11
“Max here again with the truth about what’s happening. Information is sketchy, but I’ll tell you what I know and what I think I know.
“First, don’t approach cities. The cities that were attacked are death traps. The effects of the nerve agent that was released are deadly to both those exposed to it as well as those who were not initially infected. The exposed are coming out of comas in a hyper aggressive state and will attack anyone not already exposed. I don’t know how or why this is happening, but I’ve got dozens of reports of people being attacked and ripped to shreds by their friends, family or neighbors.
“I’ve also personally seen women that have been exposed, infected I guess, so aggressive that I can only compare them to a lioness. They are fast, don’t seem to feel pain, and are nearly unstoppable. The infected men I’ve seen are just as dangerous, but slower and much less coordinated. I can’t explain it, but I’m sure there’s some scientist somewhere that can.
“As far as I know the infected aren’t contagious, but I think it’s a safe bet that if they have any of the nerve agent on their skin or clothing you would be infected by coming into contact with them. Reports are that the infection is spreading.
“The government continues to remain absent and reports are that the entire command structure of the US Government has retreated to hardened bunkers and is communicating with the military via secure satellite links. Civilian communications of all sorts remain offline.
“There is severe civil unrest in the cities that were not attacked. Rioting, looting, fires burning out of control. Avoid the cities at all costs. It’s only going to get worse.
“More missiles have been launched, some going north which can only mean Russian targets, but most going west. There have been no reports of retaliation and so far I’ve had no luck in reaching anyone outside the continental US to find out what’s happening in the rest of the world.
“We’ve had to move twice in the last twelve hours. Once to avoid military forces that were tracking our signal, and again to escape a large group of infected. We’re ready to move again before the military triangulates our signal and we get a visit from one of the drones they so love to use.
“Again, avoid the cities. Avoid the infected at all costs, and don’t trust the authorities. I don’t know why they’ve abandoned us, but at this point they can’t be trusted. Until my next broadcast, be safe.”
The signal cut off before Max finished speaking the word safe and was replaced with the sound of static.
I had awakened to a hot and humid Georgia morning and turned on the truck’s radio to see if there was anything broadcasting. As before there was only static as I scrolled through both the FM and AM bands so I had left the radio on the frequency I’d first heard Max on and when I returned from the bathroom was rewarded with his update.
Rachel was still in the back seat, silent and unmoving and I thought she was still sleeping until she spoke, “Why would the government cut us off like this? Shouldn’t they being doing everything they can to help us?”
I thought about it before answering, “I don’t have any idea. It doesn’t make any sense to me either.”
She turned over and looked at me for a few minutes before climbing out of the backseat and disappearing into the bathroom. She returned a few minutes later and hopped up on the lowered tail gate next to me.
“I don’t suppose we have a toothbrush or any toothpaste.” She said.
“I’ll put it on the list.” I said, trying to make it sound light hearted but failing miserably.
Rachel looked over at me through tangled hair, “So what’s the plan?”
I let out a big sigh before answering. By nature I was a person who analyzed situations and made decisions quickly. The US Army had recognized this trait early and honed it to a fine skill. College and work after the army had polished it, but at the moment I felt like I was in a daze and thinking at about half of my normal rate.
Trying to get my brain in gear I started to lay out our situation and options.
“We’re cut off from any form of government help or protection. In fact I haven’t even seen a cop since this all started. Infected are roaming the streets and will attack as soon as they see us, but I think the bigger danger may be from other people.
This just started and already we’ve had to escape an attempted ambush. Fortunately those guys were amateurs or we might have been in some trouble. We might not be so lucky next time.
I’m heading for Arizona to get to my wife. I don’t know what it’s like there, but if anyone can hold out it will be her. That’s at least 1500 miles through what sounds like will be hostile territory. No comfortable hotels or restaurants along the way.
I guess the first question is what are you doing?”
I looked at her and reached to my shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes that wasn’t there. Another item for the list the next time I looted a store.
Rachel shook her head, the tangled hair swirling around and hiding her face.
“I don’t have anywhere better to go, and sure don’t want to be on my own, so I guess I’m with you.” She answered while staring between her swinging feet at the stained garage floor reaffirming her prior commitment to go with me.
I was relieved. She had already shown a good head for crisis situations not to mention saving my life at the first gas station we’d stopped at.
“Good. First thing we need are more supplies. These protein bars aren’t going to last long. Just as important we need weapons. We’re going to have to defend ourselves and a tire iron and nearly empty pistol aren’t going to cut it. And, I need to find a map.”
Talking was helping and I was starting to think again; starting to plan how we would actually make it across the majority of the United States.
“Why a map? We just follow the freeways, right?” She asked.
“If the freeways are open and safe that would be great, but I have a feeling that there’s going to be a lot of bad guys ready to ambush anything moving on the interstate system. Also, freeways go through big cities. We need to go around them. I know how to get to Arizona, but I don’t know how to avoid all the dangers between here and there.” I answered.
She thought about that for a moment then nodded her head in agreement. “You’re right. OK, so what’s first?”
“Weapons, then food, medical supplies, then a map. In that order.” I didn’t even hesitate with my answer.
12
I started the truck, twisted the right wires together to keep it running and stepped out of the cab so Rachel could slide behind the wheel. In place, she put her foot on the brake and held it there while shifting the big transmission into drive so the truck was ready to go the instant I raised the garage door.
The roll up door had a row of grimy windows set into it at head height so I was able to look out to the parking lot and surrounding area for any threats. Several infected males were slowly lumbering down the street, apparently aimless in their travels, but they were far enough away to not be an immediate concern.
I was more worried about the females. The one that had attacked me the night before had been so damn fast and strong it was scary. My only advantage had been that I outweighed her by a good 100 pounds, and not for the first time I was thankful that as I settled into corporate life I had kept myself in shape. Two hours a day in the gym had been a pain, but I was still one strong son of a bitch. All that said, I didn’t want to get in a foot race with one of the females.
I scanned the area again, moving to change my viewing angle, but still saw nothing other than the males. No vehicles moving, no other uninfected people moving, no animals, and thankfully no infected females.
Glancing back at Rachel we made eye contact and I nodded that the area was clear. She nodded back to indicate she was ready. Glock in my right hand I released the door’s locking pin with my left and pulled up on the door, shoving it all the way open.
I stepped out of the open bay door and into a two handed shooting stance with the Glock at low ready which means the weapon was at a forty five degree down angle from my body with both arms straight out in front of me. It would take a fraction of a second for me to raise the pistol and engage a target if we were threatened.
The note of the diesel engine rose as Rachel fed it some fuel and the truck rolled out of the garage and stopped when it was completely clear. I started moving quickly for the cab but spun around when I heard running feet behind me. The pistol swiveled with me and raised as I spun, eyes searching for a target, but I was caught off guard by what I saw.
Running towards me with a guttural snarl was a little girl that couldn’t have been more than ten years old. The front of her shirt was covered with blood and her eyes fairly glowed blood red. I hesitated pulling the trigger. Any adult attacking me would have already been shot, but I wasn’t prepared for a child.
Recovering from my hesitation I realized it was too late to shoot. Stepping to the side as she launched herself into the air I clubbed the back of her head with the pistol butt as she flashed past me, landing in a heap of flailing limbs by the rear tire of the truck.
Now I’m a big, strong, solid guy and I hit her hard. Not a tap. Hard. Hard enough to have brought down a grown man. She couldn’t have weighed more than sixty pounds, but she sprang back to her feet like all I had done was slap her.
“Fuck this,” I muttered to myself and side stepped so the truck was no longer behind her in my line of fire.
She snarled and raised her arms, hands held like claws, but I fired before she could charge. The body dropped to the pavement and lay still.
Spinning I sighted in on the males that had been in the street, but they were still more than 20 yards away and moving just slightly faster than a slow lumber. Grabbing the handle I yanked the door open and slid behind the wheel of the truck as Rachel moved out of my way.
Dropping the truck into drive I accelerated straight for the approaching infected males and ran down two of them. The massive push bar on the front knocked them to the ground then they felt like minor speed bumps as the big off road tires bounced over the bodies.
At the street I turned right and continued our westerly direction of travel. After a bit I realized that Rachel was watching me and I turned to meet her gaze.
“Are you OK?” She asked.
“Just fine,” I answered after a bit. “I always wanted to shoot a little girl in the head.”
After a moment Rachel placed her hand on my right arm and left it there. We drove that way for a while, neither of us saying anything.
13
We kept working our way west, keeping our speed down enough to avoid accidents and the lumbering males, but fast enough that all the females could do was run at us as we quickly outpaced them. I was not comforted to see that when they started chasing us they didn’t give up until we were out of sight. This didn’t bode well for us if we ever found ourselves on foot. We’d be quickly run to ground unless we could find secure shelter or fight them off.
We had yet to see any uninfected people since the attempted ambush the day before. This changed as we approached a four lane state highway that ran roughly north and south.
A small group of five men stood around an ancient Ford Taurus in a convenience store parking lot, staring at us as we approached. They looked like blue collar workers and were armed with a variety of hunting rifles and shotguns.
I felt Rachel tense up next to me as we approached, but she didn’t say anything. The men didn’t try to flag us down and didn’t make any threatening moves wi
th their weapons, but I’m not a great believer in the goodness or charity of the human race so I accelerated slightly as we drew abreast of them and kept going.
“You didn’t trust them?” Rachel asked when we crested a rise in the road and could no longer see them behind us.
“Let’s just put it this way. We’re in no position to help them and at the moment we don’t need their help. Probably better for all to keep our distance.” I answered.
“People are going to be getting hungry very quickly, and they’re already scared. That’s a dangerous combination. Add to that the fact that civil authority has evaporated and there’s not much that would prevent a group like that from trying to kill me and take you and the truck.”
Rachel thought about that for a moment before answering, “You have a pretty dim view of society.”
“I can’t remember who said it, but the quote is something like ‘Society is only a thin veneer that masks the animal that man really is’, or something like that. I’ve seen for myself what people do when there’s no authority in charge.”
Rachel started to answer but stopped herself and pointed at a side road we had just passed. “Would an outfitters shop have what we need?”
By way of answer I hit the brakes and slowed the truck enough to make a U-Turn in the middle of the road. For once in my life I wouldn’t have minded a cop showing up to give me a ticket for the illegal maneuver.
I drove back to the side street and turned the direction Rachel had pointed. A block down on our left was a small cinder block building with a chain link fence protecting the rear parking lot. The sign on the front advertised that it was an outfitter for hunting and shooting. Underneath in slightly smaller lettering that looked like an afterthought the sign said the store was a one stop shop for all my tactical needs.
