by J. Thorn
Dog just stood quietly at the open door, nose twitching. I stepped into the hallway and Dog stayed by my side. Rachel brought up the rear, padding silently in her bare feet. We quickly checked the entire house and found it empty. With that out of the way I made sure all the doors were securely locked and all the windows were covered. I didn’t want any visitors.
The house looked like it had been home to a couple. There were three bedrooms, two of them musty smelling and being used for storage. The master was a shambles with drawers pulled out of the dressers and left lying on the floor amidst heaps of clothing. It looked like someone had packed and left in a hurry.
The kitchen was small and not particularly clean, but the cupboard was well stocked with canned foods. The range was gas burning and I was happy to hear the hiss of natural gas when I turned the knob. The gas didn’t ignite because the range used an electric starter and the power was off, but a simple match would solve that problem and we’d have a hot meal.
Rachel checked the water and it was still on, and it even got hot as she let it run. Must be a gas hot water heater with a pilot light.
“First shower!” She grinned across the room at me.
I grinned back. “I’ll make dinner while you clean up. Keep your pistol close and leave the bathroom door open. If you hear me shout…”
“Got it,” She answered, still smiling. Apparently not even the end of the world could dampen her spirits when a hot shower was available. Rachel went down the hall to the bathroom and moments later I heard the shower start up.
The storm still raged outside as I started pulling cans out of the pantry. A large can of chunky beef stew went into a bowl on the floor and Dog devoured it in less than a minute, licked the bowl spotlessly clean and went over and laid down in the corner with a contented sigh.
I found a large skillet and after getting the stove top lit put it on the burner and started adding the contents of several cans. I wouldn’t win any culinary awards, but as I added two cans of Spam, a can of baked beans and another of corn I thought the aroma coming from the skillet was one of the best I’d ever smelled.
Giving everything a stir I searched some more cabinets and found a couple loaves of sourdough bread. Cutting the tops off each loaf I hollowed out the insides and put each on a plate, the bread from inside the loaves on the side. Each one made a perfect bread bowl.
The shower had been off for a few minutes and I was about to go looking for Rachel when she walked into the kitchen.
“That smells fantastic,” She said, coming over to the stove to look in the skillet. Rachel had found clean clothes in the master bedroom closet that almost fit. She had on a pair of cotton shorts that were short enough to not leave much to the imagination and a thin T Shirt that was stretched almost impossibly tight over her breasts.
“And it’s ready. Hope you’re hungry,” I answered, trying to keep my eyes from drifting to the hard nipples stressing the thin fabric of the shirt or the long legs left bare by the short shorts.
I scooped generous portions of the skillet contents into the bread bowls and carried them to the table while Rachel found water glasses and filled them at the sink for us. A quick search of drawers yielded a couple of spoons and we settled down at the table.
The kitchen was almost dark due to the heavy clouds outside and the closed blinds at all the windows, but I didn’t care to show a light that might be seen by either survivors or infected. We both dug in, too hungry to spend any time talking. From across the room Dog watched us, his chin on his front paws. When my food was half gone I was able to slow myself down and enjoy eating the meal.
“So I was thinking about why those infected showed up at the park when we stopped this afternoon,” I said, then shoveled another spoonful into my mouth.
Rachel paused with a spoon half way to her mouth and looked at me with raised eyebrows. I chewed, swallowed and continued.
“I think it was the sound of the truck idling. I think mechanical sounds are going to draw these things like a moth to a flame. I’ve got to find a switch I can wire into the truck so we can shut it off and start it easily when we stop.”
“How many of them do you think are out there?” Rachel asked, getting up to refill our water.
I thought for a minute before answering, “I don’t have a clue. So far we’ve seen far more infected than we have survivors. I’m shocked the nerve gas was so effective and spread so fast. Based on what we’ve seen so far it seems like most of the population has been infected.”
That thought hit both of us like a slap in the face. Suddenly my food didn’t taste good anymore and I put the remains on the floor for Dog who gladly polished it off for me. When he was done I picked the plate up and washed it in the sink. Not that it mattered, but old habits die hard.
I made another tour of the house, checking windows and doors to make sure we were secure. The worst of the storm had passed, but it was still raining and now completely dark outside. I put a piece of duct tape over my flashlight lens and poked a small hole in it so only a tiny beam of light could make it out.
Using the muted flashlight I carefully covered the master bedroom windows with blankets, taping the edges to the wall with more duct tape to prevent any light from escaping. The battery powered LED lantern I had looted had a night light setting and I turned it on in the bedroom for Rachel then went to the living room and covered those windows as well, taping the blankets as I had in the master bedroom. I’d be sleeping on the couch tonight. There was only one bed in the house and I’d already decided to give it to Rachel.
Next I retrieved a 12 gauge shotgun I’d found in the outfitter store vault and showed Rachel how to load it, rack the slide and where the safety button was. After having her rack a few shells through the gun and reload it she was about as familiar with a shotgun as she was going to be until we were somewhere safe that I could teach her how to aim, control and fire the weapon.
I showered with my pistol in the shower with me, safe inside a plastic zip sandwich bag I’d found in the kitchen. The hot water felt wonderful and released a lot of the tension I was carrying in my shoulders and upper back.
Dried off, I dressed in the khaki camouflage cargo pants I’d found at the outfitter and a matching camo T-Shirt. I tried on the steel toed hunting boots, which fit well, and left them sitting open and ready at the edge of the couch.
With a fully loaded assault rifle on the floor next to me, and a loaded pistol in my waist band, I laid back on the couch. I closed my eyes but the voice of a long gone instructor popped into my head, ‘Check everything, check it again, then check to make sure you checked it right, numb nuts.’
I smiled at the memory of Sergeant Willis, swung my feet to the floor and made another round of the house with Dog padding along at my side. All the doors and windows were locked tight. The blankets in the bedroom were still tightly covering the window and Rachel was breathing heavily as she slept, cocooned in a light blanket with only her face exposed.
I turned off the lantern’s night light to save the batteries and headed back to the living room, feeling my way in the dark. Passing one of the other bedrooms I stepped in and up to the window that looked to the street in front of the house. Carefully moving the curtains an inch open, I looked out at the rain soaked front yard.
The clouds were breaking up and a small amount of moonlight lit the street. I stood there watching for a few minutes, but nothing moved. I was about to close the gap in the curtains and go to bed when movement across the street caught my eye. My pulse picked up until I identified the fat raccoon that waddled into view. He stopped and sniffed the air then slowly made his way up the street. I closed the curtains tight and went to bed.
17
I snapped awake when Dog growled deep in his chest, my hand automatically grasping the butt of the pistol in my waist band. I drew the weapon and swung my feet to the floor silently, watching Dog to try and figure out what had him agitated. He was staring intently at the front window of the living roo
m. I couldn’t hear anything, and didn’t have any idea what time it was other than early as it was still dark.
I stood up carefully and made my way to the bedroom next to the living room, eased my way up to the curtains and a millimeter at a time opened them enough to see out the window. All the clouds had moved out and there was enough moonlight for me to see what must have been hundreds of infected stumbling down the street, all headed to the north.
They filled the street, flowing around abandoned cars and spilling up onto the lawns of the houses that lined the road. Both males and females moved together, the females appearing much more coordinated in their movements. Occasionally children could be seen in the crowd, and just like the adults the males were slow and uncoordinated, the females moving with almost animal-like fluidity and grace.
I closed the curtains as slowly and carefully as I had opened them and quietly backed away from the window. Deciding it was best to wake Rachel in case we were discovered I made my way out to the hall and down to the master bedroom where she was sleeping.
She hadn’t moved since I’d done my last check of the house before going to sleep, still wrapped up in the blanket and snoring softly. I knelt onto one knee, leaned over her and put a hand over her mouth to prevent her from crying out in case I startled her.
Her eyes instantly flew open wide with panic and she started struggling. I wrapped my other arm around her, using the blanket to help control her movements and put my lips against her ear.
“It’s OK, it’s me. There’s infected outside. We can’t make any noise,” I whispered in her ear.
She stopped struggling but her body remained tense. Slowly I released her then removed my hand from her mouth, ready to clamp it back in place if she started to speak. When it was obvious she was under control I stepped back and she sat up and shed the blanket. I motioned for her to follow me, using my taped flashlight to give her enough light to see.
Rachel stood up, crossed her arms across her breasts and followed me to the other bedroom. Again, I very cautiously opened the curtains enough to look out and was dismayed to see that the number of infected had grown. Just a few minutes before what had been a steady stream had now grown to a tightly packed mass of human bodies flooding through the neighborhood.
I moved aside and Rachel looked out the opening. She caught her breath but made no other sound. After a moment she moved back and I carefully put the curtains back in place. Fumbling in the dark I reached out for her, felt her arm and followed it down until I took her hand in mine. I led her through the darkened house out to the living room where Dog still stared at the front windows with his ears at full alert.
Pulling Rachel to me I put my lips back to her ear and whispered, “Let’s get dressed and ready to move, just in case. I got hunting clothes and boots for you from the outfitter. I’m going to turn my flashlight on so we can see. Don’t make a sound.”
Rachel nodded and I didn’t so much see it as feel her hair move against my face. I turned on the flashlight and aimed the beam at the floor. The light seemed brilliant after the tomb-like darkness, but I kept the beam on the dark colored carpet which absorbed much of the light and didn’t create any reflections.
I pointed at the duffel bag next to the coffee table and Rachel slowly dug through it until she found pants, shirt, socks and the pair of boots I’d guessed at on size. She held the clothes up to herself and nodded when they looked like a pretty good fit. I was surprised when she didn’t hesitate to strip naked right there in front of me, then remembered her state of dress when I’d found her.
A few minutes later she was dressed in the new clothes and both of us had our boots on. I retied her boot laces for her, showing her how to knot them so they didn’t come lose and let her lose a boot at an inconvenient time.
I dug through the other duffel and pulled out canvas web belts and holsters. Handing one to Rachel I put the other one on and holstered my pistol on my right hip. Rachel watched what I did and copied me. Next came tactical equipment vests for each of us.
Sitting down on the couch I motioned Rachel to sit next to me. I then spread the blanket I’d used for sleeping on top of the coffee table and placed the case of 30 round AR magazines on the blanket. From the duffel bag full of ammo I retrieved several boxes of 5.56 mm and sat them on the table as well.
Indicating for Rachel to watch me I took a magazine and carefully and quietly started loading it. After a bit Rachel picked one up and helped. As each magazine was loaded I found a pouch for it on my vest until I was completely full, then started filling up Rachel’s vest. When we were done each of us was carrying 15 magazines for a total of 450 rounds each.
Finding and filling the spare magazines for my .45 and Rachel’s 9 MM pistol gave each of us another 100 rounds of spare pistol ammunition on our bodies. I had Rachel stand up slowly and I adjusted the vest for her so it fit well enough to not rattle when she moved. Anything that wouldn’t adjust got duct taped and silenced.
Finally I slung one of the M4 rifles over her head and adjusted the sling for a good fit for her size. With hand gestures and whispered explanations I showed her how to insert a magazine, charge the weapon, turn it off and on safe, change magazines and aim. In response to my whispered question of whether she’d ever fired an AR before she shook her head ‘No’.
I rummaged to the bottom of another duffel and pulled out two backpacks that had built in water bladders and drinking tubes. Showing these to Rachel I mimed that I wanted her to take them to the kitchen and fill the bladders with water. I wanted to check on the infected while she did that.
Moving slowly so as not to bang into anything and make a sound I crept up to the bedroom window and peeked through the curtains. The sky was lightening up and visibility had improved greatly, but I didn’t need the extra light to see that there was still a sea of bodies moving up the street.
I couldn’t even hazard a guess as to how many there were. They were moving so slow and were packed so tightly together that I had to concentrate to pick out individuals. Closing the curtains I went back to the living room where Rachel was carefully placing the backpacks on the coffee table.
We spent some time distributing spare clothing and food into the packs. I put all of the remaining 300 rounds of 9 mm ammo in Rachel’s, loading mine up with .45 and 5.56. I debated shotgun ammo, but decided to stick with the AR rather than the 12 gauge. If we lost the truck, we’d lose the shotgun with it.
Preparations made, we settled onto the couch. I had a map and my flashlight and Rachel scooted next to me to get a look. I traced my finger across the map following I-575 until I came to the interchange where we’d turned around yesterday. Tracing backwards I spotted where I thought we were, or at least the right neighborhood.
A few minutes of searching found an overpass that crossed I-575 a few miles to the northwest of us. This looked on the map to just be a bridge over the interstate without any entrance or exit ramps. My assumption was that this would not be jammed up by people fleeing the city.
I memorized as much of the route as I could and worked on mapping our way further west. A large lake lay west of 575 that we would have to make our way around, then we’d have to deal with I-75 which ran up to Tennessee to the north and back to downtown Atlanta to the south. I expected 75 to be completely impassable.
Looking for a route around the lake I didn’t like our options. Going south to skirt the water would take us a good distance back toward Atlanta, but if we went north and around it looked like there was only one small highway that cut through some rugged country.
I whispered my concerns into Rachel’s ear and traced the routes on the map with my finger to demonstrate. She peered intently at the map for a few minutes then using her index finger traced a route due north from our location up into the north Georgia hills. We’d still have to cross 575 but the route she was proposing would take us through some sparsely populated areas.
I nodded my agreement, irritated with myself that I was so focused on westerly t
ravel that I had overlooked the obvious. I was concerned for my wife and all I wanted to do was to get to Arizona and make sure she was safe. She’s tough as nails and probably smarter than I am, but there’s a reason men ruled the world until very recent history, and the world was quickly devolving back to that mode. At least she was well armed and knew how to shoot.
Putting Katie out of my mind, as much as I could, I spent some time studying the map and fixing roads and travel directions in my head. Not that Rachel couldn’t read the map for me while I was driving, but it was always better to have an idea of which way we were going and how we were going to get there.
I looked up when Rachel lightly touched my arm and followed her gaze to where Dog was lying in the middle of the living room floor. He had been alert and tense from the moment he had wakened me, eyes fixed on the front windows, but now he was lying down and even though his ears were straight up his eyes were closed.
I watched him for a minute then looked at Rachel and motioned to the bedroom. She followed me and we peeked out the curtained windows at what looked like was going to be a crystal clear day. What made it even better was that no infected were in sight.
Mailboxes were broken over, bushes and lawns trampled into mud, smears of something I assumed was blood were on all the parked cars, but that was the only sign of the infected. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and heard Rachel do the same.
“What the hell was that?” She asked in a very quiet voice.
“I don’t know. At first I thought maybe they’d heard something in that direction, but I think the females would have been out in front of the pack if that was the case.”
We stood looking out the window for a few more moments until I carefully put the curtains back in place.
“The bad thing is they were all heading the same direction we just decided to go and I don’t think we’d survive an encounter with a group that large. Even in the truck. They could batter their way in or even turn us over if they have any ability to work together.”
