“Ah man, that was great.” Stewart said with wide eyes.
Tom turned back to him. “Contagion everywhere?”
“Not quite. I get chatter from around the world when conditions are right and it sounds like the spread is only in the states. That crap we started spraying got that going. Thank you government. The zombies are everywhere. I knew it was coming.” He said with a look of pride. “Ten years ago I knew the zombies were coming. Watched that TV show and –“
Tom interrupted him, knowing they needed to get moving. “Anybody getting results…hope for stopping this?”
“Ha! Stop the zombie apocalypse? You’ve seen the movies. This train is a one way ride.”
“Why haven’t you settled in with a group? There must be good groups out there on the radio.”
“Not for me man. For now there is plenty of gas to keep on the move. Finally my chance to see the country. Mom and I always talked about just forgetting everything and cruising around America.” He looked down at his feet. “Not really what we expected or how mom and I wanted it. I wish the –“
“What’s your plan right now?”
“Keep touring. I’m going –“
Tom interrupted him again. “We’re going the way you just came from. Anything we should know?”
“I’ve been on the back roads from the Wenatchee area. Haven’t seen too many Zeebes. There is a group setup on the river. All good people. Last I heard from them, maybe a week back, they were infection free and nobody with symptoms. Even when the –“
“Any word on the method that spreads it?”
“Everybody has an opinion, but fairly consistent that it is not airborne. Fluid contact, that sort of thing. A lot of belief that it is contagious prior to symptoms, but who knows. I got sick a while back…thought for sure I was a goner, but guess it was just a cold or whatever. Never wished I had some hot chicken soup so bad. They’ve never proven, but –“
Tom looked up at the sun. It was approaching the horizon and would be down soon, blanketing the area in darkness. He stopped listening to Stewart. His mind wandered to Kelly and Sam. The two of them sitting at the table with him, playing cards and laughing, flashed through his mind. He wondered if he could really go on.
“You okay guy?” Stewart asked.
Tom snapped his head back up at the words. His cheeks were wet with tears, but he didn’t even realize he was crying. Stewart stepped up close to him with a worried look on his face. Tom quickly wiped the tears from his cheeks and nodded his head rapidly. “I’m fine…sorry, I’m fine.”
“Hey, no worries man. I totally understand. Nowadays, tears are the new itch. That thing you scratch at, not sure why, but it won’t go away.”
Tom’s face was hot and surely beet red. He turned from Stewart, looking over at Hank. “We probably better get a move on. Gonna get dark and…they mostly come out at night…mostly.”
Stewart started laughing and snorting hysterically. Once he finally got his breath he said, “Good idea Newt.” He started giggling again. “Ah, feels good to laugh. You’re right though. I better be getting a move on as well. I hope to be in Montana by tomorrow.”
“What are you doing there?”
“I’m finally going to go see the Lewis and Clark Caverns like mom and I always meant to. It’s on my list.”
“Good luck to you. We’re going to go see some places that were never on my list.”
Chapter 17 - Friends
They all knew something was wrong when they cleared the crest of the hill and could see the river below. It wasn’t anything obvious, like smoke or people running and screaming. Instead it was the utter calm of the scene. A large brick pump house surrounded by motorhomes sat at the edge of the river. The structure had a high chain link fence running its perimeter, once built to keep vandals and looters out, but now the first defense against the infected. Amongst the living quarters nothing moved.
After leaving Stewart, they had made their way through the winding back roads that led to Wenatchee. The roads had been mostly clear, but they still took their time, siphoning gas when cars were available and stopping once for the night. It was the best most of them had slept in a long time. Finally away from towns, people, and the sounds of infected. Tom on the other hand, stared up into the night sky, watching the stars and wondering if Kelly and Sam were looking down on him. He liked to think they were, but felt no comfort, missing them just as much. His night was spent in these turbulent thoughts, never feeling so distant from the forest that he once loved as he did now.
Isaac slowed to a stop before making their way down the last stretch of road that led to a small bridge. The makeshift pump house village sat just beyond. Hank looked over at Tom and saw that he was staring out the window, fidgeting with something in his fingertips. His eyes glistened with recent tears.
“You okay man?” Hank asked.
Tom continued to look out the window for several seconds. Hank was about to ask again when Tom turned and said, “People aren’t going to live like this. I’m going to…we’re going to make things better. Promise me that. All of you.” He looked down at his hands and the wedding ring he had been spinning in his fingers.
“I’m all in, you know that. Why ask this now?” Hank said.
Tom slipped the ring back on his finger and said, “We’ve all lost things. A lot of people have died. Spartans once said ‘to learn to love death’s ink-black shadow as much as you love the light of dawn’ and I’ve thought about that. I am to the point that the light of dawn is no longer a joy for me. Not just because of Kelly and Sam, but before that. It hasn’t been a joy for quite some time.” Hannah started to say something, but Tom held up a hand and said, “Just a sec. Let me finish. This world is no way to live, not for us and surely not for children. There are other Rachaels out there. There are other Kellys out there. There are other Sams. I am going to make things better at all costs.”
Hank slapped him on the shoulder. “Sure, steal the opening for a fancy speech.”
Hannah turned around in her seat so that she could see Tom’s eyes. “I’m in…fully committed.” She looked over to Isaac. He nodded back in agreement.
“Now that that is settled. Thank you President Pike.” Hank said.
They all laughed, glad someone broke the tension. Eyes returned to the pump house compound that sat below them.
“Sun’s been up for a couple hours now. Should be movement.” Hannah said.
Isaac said, “Do we blow past?”
“We could use food and supplies.” Tom said.
“If we can trust Stewart, which I don’t see why not, then this place was doing great a week ago.” Hannah said.
“All it would take is one roaming band of thugs to kill everyone.” Hank said.
Tom nodded in agreement. “If infected were here we would seem them wandering around.”
Hank said, “We can either sit here gossiping like a bunch of ladies playing bridge or we can go find out for ourselves.” Nobody argued with that.
The front gate was left wide open. Its giant chain and padlock hung impotently. They eased through the opening, barely creeping forward; the sound of rocks crunching under their tires was audible over the idling engine. Once they got within a car length of the brick pump house Isaac pulled to a stop and they all peered out their windows. Nothing moved. There was no breeze to stir the scrapes of paper that lay about. Windows and doors were all buttoned up; none of them revealing anything living.
Feeling like any extra noise would disturb the delicate balance, Tom whispered, “Wow, talk about creepy.”
“Ghost town.” Hank whispered back.
Hannah popped her door open. “Come on you Ninnies.” She climbed out of the SUV, pulling her rifle out with her. She held it loosely at her side, not seeing or sensing any immediate threats.
The others piled out as well. Despite dropping below the snow line, a sharp chill hung in the air. Tom rubbed his hands together, headed for the back of the SUV, and opened the hatch.
“Let’s use silent weapons. Shoulder your rifles in case we need them, but let’s not perk any nearby ears.”
Once they all had what they wanted they stood in a small circle, looking around nervously. “Two teams. One for the motorhomes and one for the pump house and outbuilding over there.” Tom said while pointing to a single story brick building that sat just upriver from its much larger twin.
Hannah nodded. “Isaac and I will go through the motorhomes. Must be about ten of them…should go quick.”
“K, Hank and I will hit the pump house first and then move to the outbuilding. Stay sharp and shout it out if you need help.”
Hank and Tom watched as Isaac and Hannah made their way to the first motorhome. Both men remained in position until the two were inside, in case they needed assistance. After this they felt comfortable that the motorhomes would be empty and just needed searched.
A large set of black metal doors loomed in front of them. They were of the quality only seen from the early 1900s and would have been acceptable fortification for a castle. Hank and Tom stopped just shy of the large doors.
“Fort Knox.” Hank said.
“Construction like this died a long time ago.” Tom said while stepping up to the door and resting a hand on it. “I’ll open and follow you in.”
Hank nodded in agreement and pulled his crossbow up to a ready position. Tom grabbed the large handle and gave it a pull. He was glad to find it unlocked and despite its weight and size, the door swung outward easily. Dark silence stared back at them. Hank clicked on a flashlight duct taped to the fore grip of his crossbow. Light shot forward, slicing through the darkness and illuminating a metal beast. The giant machinery had surely sat silent for decades.
Tom held a flashlight in one hand and his crossbow in the other. Tucked in right behind Hank, he swept inside the building and turned to the right, covering his side. On the floor lay piles of blankets and sleeping bags, but no people. Stepping between the sleeping areas, he made his way to the far side of the room where he saw a large bin sitting in the corner. He shined his flashlight down into its dark interior and found it half full of empty food cans.
He made the corner, following a metal railing that led past the old machinery. The narrow path had more blankets, marking that people had been sleeping here. As he neared a set of metal stairs, Hank came around from the other side. He gave a shoulder shrug and a shake of his head.
Hank whispered, “Ghosts.”
“Yeah, let’s take a look up above.”
Each step they took on the wrought iron stairs made a slight squeak of rubber. These sounds would normally go unnoticed, but the pump house interior was a tomb; the silence felt heavy it was so pervasive. The thick brick walls blocked out anything that was going on outside. At the top of the stairs was a small platform with a closed door to the left. Tom eyed the door with dread; a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“This could be ugly.” Hank whispered.
Tom nodded his head. “I know it.”
The door handle turned easily and Tom gave the solid wood door a push. Hank brushed past him with his crossbow up and ready. Tom thought about all the things they might find. He raced in after Hank despite the potential horrors. None were to be found. The large room was a makeshift kitchen, left in a state of disarray. There was no sign of a struggle or anything out of the ordinary.
A quick search of the room and a couple additional doorways revealed only small closets empty of items. There was no food or water. The area was empty of useful items.
“Outbuilding?” Tom said.
“I think they were abducted by aliens.”
“Couple years ago I would have laughed…now I’m not discounting anything.”
Back outside, they stood about halfway between buildings watching for Hannah and Isaac. After a few minutes the pair exited one of the motorhomes. Hannah raised both hands up and shook her head, signaling that so far they hadn’t found anything as well. Tom pointed to the outbuilding. She nodded back and headed for the next motorhome.
There was a well-worn path in the dirt that led to the outbuilding. It was impossible to tell if this was from recent traffic. Tom was reaching for the door handle when the snapping of gunfire erupted. It was distant, but close enough to know exactly what it was. Maybe just over the nearby hill.
Hank and Tom shared a look, and then Tom said, “Let’s finish here.”
“Roger that.”
Hannah stepped out of the motorhome and looked around quizzically. Tom pointed at the buildings, his eyes, and then gave a circling motion with his hand up over his head. She nodded and moved back into the motorhome.
Tom pulled open the door and found part of what they had been looking for. Light spilled into the single large room from high windows running both sides of the brick building. Scattered in a large heap were bodies, lots of bodies. Men, women, a few children; it had to be the compound’s residents.
Hank turned back out the door.
Tom stepped up to the pile and knelt down next to one of the bodies. There was very little blood and no immediate signs for cause of death. He moved over to the next body, a middle aged woman that was on her side. A crimson trail of blood ran from her ear, down across her cheek, and past her neck to the floor. The blood glistened slightly. Tom used the tip of his crossbow bolt to poke at the red liquid. He was surprised to find it only partially congealed. He leaned down and put a hand on the woman’s back, in under her shirt, and found the skin wasn’t the cold, clammy flesh of a long dead body. He rapidly stood back up and moved outside where Hank stood.
“Sorry boss, couldn’t look at them.” Hank said.
Tom surveyed the surrounding forest. “Not dead long…probably less than a couple hours.”
Hank looked to the woods as well. “Whoever killed them can’t be far.”
They both turned in the direction that sporadic gunfire could still be heard. While they stood thinking, Hannah and Isaac walked over from the motorhomes. They didn’t have any supplies in their hands.
“No people, no supplies…nothing. It’s like they just ran off.” Hannah said.
“They wish.” Hank said.
Tom nodded his head and pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “They’re all in there. Dead.”
“What happened here?” Isaac asked.
“Killed this morning. Stabbed through the ear. Ice pick or something thin.” Tom said.
“Gangster.” Hank grumbled.
Hannah was in full cop mode. She turned to the gunshots. “Somebody turned on them…maybe a few somebodies. Killed them while they slept and took everything. What I don’t get is why they took the time to move all the bodies into this building.” She finished while turning back to the brick outbuilding. “Gunfire is probably them. Who knows, maybe they turned on each other down the road.”
“Worried they would come back.” Isaac said. When nobody responded he added, “Only reason I can think you would move all the bodies to this building is you were worried they might come back even though they went for the brain. Stuff them in there in case you wanted to use the compound again?” He said while shrugging his shoulders.
“Doesn’t matter.” Tom said. “No supplies here. We have two options. We can either continue on our way to the missile site or we can follow the gunshots…see if we can get the supplies.”
“Women…kids…whoever did this were scum. As much as I would like to hunt them to the ends of the earth, we can’t turn into the morality police.”
“Especially now.” Isaac said.
“We could really use supplies.” Hannah said.
Tom nodded in agreement. “You’re both right. Let’s move on the gunfire. Stay back and see what we have… decide from there.”
******
“At least two are down.” Hank said from a prone position under the cover of a large spruce tree. He held one eye up to his rifle scope. “Four targets still active.”
Tom was just on the other side of the tree’s trunk. “
Two behind the truck.”
“They’ve got ‘em pinned down.”
From their vantage point on top of the hill they had an excellent view of the firefight below. Two large military trucks were pulled side by side in the roadway, blocking the progress of a tan extended cab truck. The driver of the truck had turned at an angle across the street, either to provide better cover or they were stopped in the progress of turning around. The driver and passenger were now huddled behind the truck. At the rear of the military trucks were six people total, two of which laid face down on the pavement, rifles laying uselessly at their sides. They were in a stalemate, neither side wanting to push things.
“Looks like a kid and a girl behind the truck.” Tom said. He pulled his eye off the scope, noticing something out of the corner of his eye. “Movement in the trees.” Tom said.
“Hannah and Isaac?”
“Nope. Further back on the other side.”
“I see ‘em. Demented.”
“Drawn to the gunfire.”
They both laid and watched as a pair of demented raced out of the woods behind the tan truck. Having seen prey, they were moving incredibly fast. The younger boy was continually poking his head around the backside of the truck, trying to keep an eye on the military vehicles. His concern for being out flanked meant he was oblivious to the attack that was coming from behind.
Tom touched on his trigger.
“Give the word.” Hank said.
Crack…crack.
Two rapid shots from the girl dropped both demented. Her shots were surprisingly quick and efficient. Running targets often had a way of being elusive, especially when they were coming right at a person, but she maintained her cool and made each shot count.
“Never mind.” Hank said.
One of the men behind the military trucks used the distraction to make a break for the trees to the side. The boy saw the movement and shifted around, firing at the dark form as it disappeared into the forest.
“Did he get him?” Hank asked.
“Couldn’t tell.”
The Demented Z (Book 3): Contagion Page 13
