Hell Happened (Book 1)

by Terry Stenzelbarton

  Everyone had been thinking of an RV that would be pulled by Jerry’s truck’s fifth wheel, no one had thought about getting a rolling house on wheels. Tia took one side of the vehicle, Jerry the other while the boys walked around the outside of the building, looking for a way to get the big motor home out.

  Tia opened the door of the home and looked inside. It was clean. There was no damage inside and there was no smell of rotting food or dead animals. It was like the home had been readied for someone, then stored here in the building. She sat in the driver’s seat and Jerry came to the window. “It looks good from out here. There’s no major damage that I can see. Tires are all inflated. If we can get it out and it runs, I don’t see why this wouldn’t be better than a camper.”

  “I have to know, Jerry. The keys are in it. I’m going to start it!” Tia said excitedly. Jerry couldn’t see why she shouldn’t so nodded to her. She was going to do it anyhow, whether he said yes or no.

  She turned the key and the dash lit up. She waited for the diesel’s glow plugs to heat. It started after two turns of the starter. All the gauges came up and the Winnebago idled like it was brand new. The fuel gauges read full. Tia couldn’t quit smiling.

  Randy and Eddie came running at the sound of the truck. They decided the expedient way of getting the 13-foot tall, 42-foot-long motor home out of the garage was to pull the overhead door off with the Ford, which took about 10 minutes to accomplish. Jerry offered to drive the Winnebago, but Tia wouldn’t let him. She told him she’d driven semis before and behind the wheel of the behemoth she felt right at home.

  With the large overhead door off, Tia to pulled the vehicle into the light. It was better than she’d hoped, bigger than they needed and Jerry was just a little envious.

  Eddie was not. He found something else in the garage. Part of the roof had fallen on it, but it wasn’t badly damaged. “Randy, you gotta see this!” he hollered.

  Randy went to find out what Eddie was so excited about as Tia and Jerry looked around inside the Winnebago.

  Eddie was grinning like someone who had just found the key to the backdoor of the cathouse. “Lookie what I found!” he said and pointed.

  It was a three-axel Emergency Response S.W.A.T. truck.

  Eddie was almost frothing like a rabid dog. There were no stickers on the truck and it was still flat black from the heavy-duty tires to the periscope air vent on the roof, with no external accessories, except three antennas. It had a heavy-gauge grill guard on the front and gun ports, which were more likely ports for releasing tear gas.

  “This thing better freaking run because I’m driving this bad boy home,” Eddie said as they ran for the driver’s door. Eddie climbed in and rummaged for the keys. They were in the console on a plastic key ring from this RV dealership.

  Inside, it was unfurnished except for a driver and passenger seat. There were no radios or weapons which Eddie had hoped to find, but he wasn’t upset.

  Eddie started the truck. He grinned in the same way Tia had done when her new vehicle had started. Randy climbed in the passenger seat and was looking at the dash video screens when Eddie said “Hang on.” Randy looked up, startled, and Eddie dropped the shifter into gear and stomped on accelerator. He drove through the garage door, laughing all the way. The roof collapsed behind them as they pulled out.

  Jerry and Tia had to come see what Eddie had done. There was no reason they needed a SWAT vehicle at the shelter, but Eddie made all sorts of deals, like making sure he got the fuel for it, taking care of it, finding a place to park it so it would be out of the way and rationalizing that it was a vehicle they might need someday. He also found a 75-gallon fuel tank that had been in the garage that was still near full. He and Randy strapped it to the back deck of the SWAT truck.

  After giving in to the young man, Jerry told them of a couple of stops he wanted to check out on the way back to the shelter. There was now more than enough room to carry stuff in one of the four vehicles.

  The clock was still running. They’d been gone now for nearly six hours and out of contact for four.

  Headed back the way they’d come, the four-truck convoy was able to move fast, now that they knew what to expect. Jerry pulled off the interstate twice to check out areas that hadn’t seemed to suffer as much damage as others.

  They refueled all the trucks from a wrecked tanker truck they found at a Pilot Truck Stop. They all used diesel except the Escalade so it was a simple matter to pull into a Pilot truck stop. Jerry pulled out the manual pump and they pulled fuel right from trailer which was on its side, but not broken open. There was a brief discussion about trying to right the entire rig, find another semi, but their time constraints put that idea to bed for another time.

  The doors to the store were open in front and back and there were a trio of torn up bodies near the doors. Zombies were here, but they wouldn’t be out in the bright sunlight and no one wanted to go inside anyhow.

  The next stop was a strip mall at the 459 / 20 interchange area. The four vehicles circled the mall and all the doors were closed. Glass had been shattered in the fronts, roofs had been ripped off, but the place didn’t appear to have been ransacked.

  From the outside, they could see how much damage the wind and rain from the hurricane had done to the insides of the stores. None of them had any real hope of finding something they could use, but since they had some time while the other vehicles were fueled, they did look around.

  Jerry was able to get several microphones from a Radio Shack, some more AA and AAA batteries, a couple of antennae for Tony and a toy remote control truck for John.

  Tia found some goods for her mobile home. She located a nice grill still in the water-soaked box, picked up all the charcoal that hadn’t been too ruined by the weather that were stacked outside of the K-Mart, and two gumball machines that were still filled with M&Ms. She also loaded more clothes for her and her children.

  Eddie and Randy found a book store. Most of the contents were ruined, but along one back wall there hundreds of still-dry books, shelves full, which they loaded into the SWAT truck. Mike loved reading and the two boys had become quite fond of the elderly black man. He never got mad at them, only offered advice and never talked down to them.

  They loaded back into their respective vehicles and headed east on 20. Jerry tried reaching the shelter on the CB, but got no response. He was sure they must be outside because it was a beautiful day. He’d instructed Kellie to have someone monitor the radio so the convoy could check in every hour. He’d try again in another 20 minutes when they were another 10 miles closer.

  Ten miles later Jerry heard why Kellie hadn’t answered his call.

  ~ ~ ~

  Kellie waved to Jerry, Tia and the boys as they pulled out of the driveway. She watched the dust on the road for more than a mile and she felt alone. It was Mike who came up, not quietly, but not in a way where she felt like he was intruding on her private thoughts.

  “They’ll be fine,” the kindly man said to her. “Why don’t we get these two kids breakfast. Tony and Monica are running some more cable to the windmill tower so he can move the short wave antenna. That’ll keep those two busy for hours.

  “I think John could use a little distraction to keep him from thinking about his mom so I’m going to teach him to use some of Jerry’s wood working tools. I’m sure you and Hannah could find something to keep her busy.” Kellie understood Mike was also finding a way for her to engage her time with young Hannah so she wasn’t worrying about Jerry.

  Following breakfast and with the dishes cleaned and dried, Hannah said she wanted to build a doll house for her dolls the same way Jerry had done for her, her mom and brother.

  Mike had already left with John for the garage.

  Kellie found a couple of hand shovels and the two ladies started digging in the rim of the parapet. Molly tried to help with the digging too, but she got tired and laid on the rim with her head on her paws. Boomer ran around the field for a while then lay down in front of
the shelter door.

  Everyone was working on non-critical jobs, enjoying the light duty while the others were away. Kellie kept the doors open to the shelter so she could hear the CB. Jerry checked in while they were in range and had told her they would be going further than the CB could reach, but to not worry. He’d let her know they were running behind schedule, but assured her they’d be back before dark.

  Kellie thought she’d heard something from the radio so left Hannah to dig while she checked. She called several times but didn’t get a response.

  She’d just returned to where she and the little girl were digging when she heard a gun shot report. She actually heard the echo from the hills that ringed behind the shelter. She wondered if it was Monica or Tony who was shooting.

  It sounded like a heavier caliber gun than the .22 Monica used. She then heard a truck coming up the drive. Something didn’t feel right to her. If it had been Jerry, he would have radioed her and the gunshot she heard before the sound of the truck bothered her.

  Hannah heard the truck too and looked up to Kellie. “Is that mommy?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart. Let’s get you inside and in the cellar and I’ll go find out. If it is, you can surprise her when she comes in.” She smiled a smile she didn’t feel and took the little girl’s hand and led her inside. Molly followed with Boomer. She sent all three to the cellar and told Hannah to lock the door. She had given the little girl a walkie-talkie, but told her not to use it or to unlock the door until Kellie told her to.

  She then picked up the Remington 20 gauge, which was loaded with six rounds of buck shot. Jerry had showed her how to use it and she’d fired it half a dozen times, but only at a target.

  She picked up her walkie-talkie, changed to the channel Tony and Monica were using and placed it on her belt. She was afraid, but she had to know what was going on. She looked out the door and saw no one. She didn’t want to use the walkie-talkie in case it would alert someone to her presence. She waited and listened.

  ~ ~ ~

  Monica saw it happen.

  Tony was between the hills, but she was on top of the taller one where the windmill was and where they were going to put the short wave antenna. She saw Mike talking with someone. She hadn’t seen from where the man approached her friend, and she was too far away to hear what was being said.

  She saw Kellie and Hannah playing in the dirt outside the front door of the shelter and at the sound of the gun shot, Kellie had calmly taken the little girl and dogs inside and shut the shelter doors.

  Mike must have walked out from the barn where he and John had been working.

  It was an ugly scene.

  ~ ~ ~

  Mike had heard someone calling in the driveway. It was a voice he didn’t recognize. He and John had been sanding on one of the new propellers Jerry would be using for a second wind mill. Mike told John to go hide while he checked on who the person was in the driveway. John nodded and ran to the back of the barn and lay down inside one of the old tractor tires. He held his walkie-talkie in his hand and tried not to be afraid.

  When John was well hidden, Mike opened the door of the barn and saw a large black man wearing a dirty red shirt, a brown jacket and pants. Mike had a pistol holstered under the leather jacket he had put on before leaving the barn. He didn’t want the stranger seeing the gun and start shooting before talking.

  Mike walked slowly toward the man. He was shorter and darker than Mike, and had 100 pounds on him, but he didn’t look threatening. “Morning, mister. Can I help you with something?” Mike asked pleasantly, stopping 10 feet from the stranger.

  “You got any food, mister? We need food and water,” the man said. He had a gravely voice, deep and harsh like he’d been a smoker for 50 years.

  Mike looked around. “I don’t see anyone else. Who else did you bring with you?”

  “I didn’t bring anyone, mister. You got any food and water. I ain’t had anything good to eat in days and am real hungry,” the man said, looking nervous now that Mike had noticed his mistake in mentioning “we” instead of “I.”

  “What ‘chyou got in that barn there? Cows? I like steak.”

  “Mister, we don’t want any trouble. If you’re hungry, we will share our food with you,” Mike said, trying to placate this man who was looking more nervous as the conversation continued. He hoped the offer of food would settle him down some. Mike had face a bank robber early in his career in banking and the robber had settle down after Mike had given him four thousand dollars in cash.

  The robber had left the bank without killing anyone and was caught a week later, but no one had died.

  “You said ‘we’ too, mister,” the newcomer said. “Who else you got here? You got women? How many are here?”

  Mike raised both his hands to show the man he had nothing to fear. “Mister, my name is Mike and there are a number of men who live here. We don’t want any problems. If you want food, we can give you some and send you on your way.”

  The man’s feral smile was filled with rotten teeth. “Your menfolk are gone. We saw ‘em leave. I bet yer the only one left here ‘cept the women.”

  Mike’s hands were in the air and he wasn’t prepared for the swiftness the man in front of him moved. It was just registering with Mike that the man was reaching inside his jacket when he realized he’d made a mistake. Fifty years separated him from his Marine training and years of sedentary living slowed his reactions. He’d just started reaching for his gun when the man’s gun came up, aimed right at him.

  The sound was loud, but Mike was dead before the echo faded.

  It was surreal for Monica. Mike and the other man were talking for a moment and Monica supposed Mike was just trying to find out if the man was a drifter who had just showed up or something more devious.

  It was the latter.

  As Monica watched, the man reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun and shot Mike in the head. The old black gentleman who had been kind and helpful to everyone in the shelter, who had never said an unkind word, dropped.

  Monica was shocked into inaction. Tony also heard the shot. He had to say her name three times before she responded. She ran down the hill when she saw the truck come up the driveway. She hoped she hadn’t been seen. She met up with Tony halfway down the hill and she told him what she’d seen. Tony, who had been unrolling coaxial, sat down in the knee-high grass with Monica.

  “We have to get back to the shelter,” Monica told him.

  “No, you have to. I’ll never be able to get back there without someone seeing me, but you can sneak back and call Jerry for help,” Tony told her. They’d become close friends, closer than Tony’d been with anyone, but there hadn’t been a physical relationship. Only Tony knew that Monica had a crush on Eddie, and in one of their late-night talks, he admitted he had a bit of a crush on Randy, a secret she swore she’d take to her grave.

  Monica nodded at Tony’s suggestion. “What’re you gonna do?”

  He lifted his head above the grass. “I’m going to crawl all the way down there, then up on top of the hill where the hatch is. I’ll be able to see everything from there. If I can get Jerry on the radio, I will, but also, I want to make sure John stays wherever he is hiding.

  “Sounds like a plan, man. Be careful.” She kissed her friend on the forehead and started off through the grass, trying to follow the path Tony and she had already made on the trek out to the windmill.

  Tony, tossing his crutch aside pulled out his 9mm and began crawling the hundreds of yards he’d have to navigate to get to the base of the tree line so he could go up the hill under the cover of the trees.

  Monica moved quickly. She was a large young woman, but the panic she felt gave her the extra energy to move through the field. She had her .22 rifle with her; she carried it with her all the time now after the death of Jeff and of learning of the callousness of the vigilantes.

  There were about 100 yards of cleared field between Monica and the shelter. She was hesitant about crossi
ng the area, not knowing who might be watching. Instead she laid down at the edge of the field and waited until she saw Tony finally reach the edge of the tree line.

  Monica had been caring for Tony and he was healing well. She hoped he didn’t hurt himself scrambling the way he was. She was using what she’d learned from three years of working for Dr. LaFavre at the clinic.

  ~ ~ ~

  Her parents had doted on her growing up. She hadn’t liked sports and wasn’t good at music, except listening to it, but she did enjoy eating. She’d never been lithe and slender, but she did have an athletic build prior to junior high school. That was when her parents moved from the country to the city for her dad’s job.

  She was at a new school with no friends she began spending more time enjoying the friendship of comfort food. By the time she was in high school, she was topping 200 pounds.

  Her grades were excellent, but her friends were few. She was able to test out of classes and started nursing school during her senior year. That was the same year her parents divorced and after 18 months of nursing school, she had to drop out and get a job.

  Dr. LaFavre needed a receptionist at his small clinic and Monica was able to earn enough to live on her own in a small apartment not far from the clinic. After three years she felt like a part of a team at the clinic. Mrs. LaFavre worked part time while her husband and his partner Dr. Belewa saw patients. The clinic catered to lower income patients, some with questionable injuries or illnesses, but Dr. LaFavre was an honest man in treating patients and if they were fakers or malingerers, LaFavre wouldn’t allow them to use him as their doctor of reference.

  Dr. Belewa wasn’t as honest. Belewa had his own receptionist, but she and Monica shared duties with billing and scheduling, but only Belewa’s assistant would take care of certain patients. Monica asked why one time and was told to mind her own business by Dr. Belewa.