When she broke the hug, I asked her how much fuel we had.
“Three quarters full,” she said.
“Is that enough for us to make the coast?” I asked.
“I’m not a trucker. Probably. Maybe.”
“Now that’s definitive,” I replied and we both smiled. Few thing were clear cut in this dead new world.
“Hey, you’re hurt,” she said as she pulled away and looked at my arm.
“It’s just a flesh wound,” I said, being brave.
“Still, we need to have Rosalita look at that.”
Robbie, looking more shell shocked than most of our crew, walked up to our little gathering. “You guys need to listen to this,” he said holding up a small pocket radio.
The signal wasn’t the greatest and the speaker was tiny, but Robbie adjusted it a little and some of the static dropped off and a voice came out of the small speaker. Most of the rest of our people crowded in around Robbie.
“Where’d you get that radio?” Jay asked.
Robbie gave him a stare as if that was the most absurd question in the universe. Robbie was the anointed king of the world when it came to gadgets, didn’t everyone know that? I wondered too, but was afraid to ask where he had secreted that little radio on his body. There was such a thing as too much information.
The voice said, “We have tried to stave off the spread of the infection and the movement of these infected individuals, but due to the nature of the virus and its virulence, that has been quite challenging. This virus and the infected threaten our nation and our world. As president, the last thing I would want to do is what I’m about to do, but the future of our nation, and, yes, our world is threatened. This calls for drastic and dramatic action. I have consulted with generals in our Armed Forces and after much consideration and prayer, I have decided to take their recommendation and have agreed to the use of tactical weapons on U.S. soil to prevent the spread which threatens humanity’s very existence. As I said, this is a worst case scenario and it calls for the most dramatic action. I say to you all, God bless you and your families and God bless America.”
I felt like I had been punched in the gut and the fist belonged to the Hulk. For the next few seconds, I had trouble catching breath, but I somehow was able to maintain my focus on the broadcast.
A hail of questions of shouted questions from reporters filled the room from wherever the broadcast was originating. This chaos went on for several seconds.
Jay stuck his head into the scrum of people and asked, “What does all that mean? What is a tactical weapon?”
“He’s not talking about tactical handguns or rifles,” Robbie said, “he’s talking about tactical nuclear weapons.”
Jay titled his head as if he didn’t understand.
“Nukes!” Robbie exclaimed.
“Whoa, dude, that’s too heavy for me,” Jay said slapping a hand to his forehead and stepping out of the crowd.
“What the hell is going on?” Dave asked, his face etched with concern. “Where are they dropping these bombs.
He started to ask another question, but Robbie cut him off with a loud, “Shhhhh!” Dave shut up as did the rest of our group.
A new voice came from the radio. “We now have General Andrew McCord to detail the plan of attack.”
Yet another voice came from the radio, it was gruff and full of strict authority. “At the direction of the president and the supreme command structure of our armed forces, we have dispatched aircraft carrying tactical weapons to several key targets around the country. Since the spread started in our southern and south central states, those will be the first targets. Florida, southern Georgia, New Mexico, Arizona, and southern California along with Texas are lost to the virus and the infected.”
With the mention of Texas, Randell let out a soul wrenching wail, “Oh no, not my Texas!” His chin fell to his chest and I thought he might have started to cry.
Joni stepped over to him and threw a comforting arm around his shoulder. I gave her a look trying to say with my expression that I knew she hated Texas, but she just shrugged.
The general’s statement continued on the radio, “Our federal forces have worked with governors of these states to put general evacuation in place and we are confident that the vast majority of the people in these states have made it safely away…”
“That’s what they said about San Antonio and we were still there,” Randell said without looking up, his voice thick with emotion.
Robbie shushed us all again.
The general continued his statement, “For anyone still in the areas mentioned, we urge you to evacuate as quickly as possible. You need to be no less than twenty miles out of the blast area and thirty five miles would be even safer. Any questions?”
The speaker on Robbie’s little radio exploded with a cacophony of different voices as all the reporters spoke at once. The most obvious questions were asked and we all stood, locked in place. What about the fallout? What about other countries? Will this really stop the virus?
The general said that they have developed weapons that had limited fallout. (If you could believe that. This sounded like a desperation move to me.) As for other countries, China had already dropped several nuclear weapons to stave off the spread and bombs had been dropped so extensively on Africa that communication had been stopped completely with the entire continent, so no one knew the effect. Of course, he ended his comments with an effusively confident tone that this would end the virus and the undead scourge unequivocally.
Yeah, and I had a bridge for sale in New York if you wanted to buy it.
I reached out, took the radio from Robbie’s hand and turned it off.
“Hey!” he said with a shocked expression. Several others in the group looked at me as if I had just cancelled Christmas -- forever.
“Listen folks,” I said, “there’s nothing more to be learned from listening. We have to start moving. If there’s anyone south of us, they’ll be heading north, and I mean fast. Every minute we delay, the better the chance we have of getting trapped in a huge traffic jam.”
“What’s the point?” Dave bellowed.
All heads turned to him.
“I mean, if the nukes don’t get us, the zombies will,” he said.
“Dave!” Joni shouted moved to pull Martin and Jessica close.
“What do you mean, dad?” Jessica said.
Joni shot Dave a withering look when he started to speak again.
I decided to head off any further discussion going in that direction, “I know we’re all tired and I know we’ve been through a lot, but we need to get on the road now and head north. I say we stick to the plan and head for North Carolina like we agreed on. Everybody on board with this?”
Like they had any better choices. They all agreed with the exception of Dave. He put his hands in the air and threw them downward in disgust while letting out a loud exhalation, but, to his credit, he did start moving toward the truck as did the rest of the group. There wasn’t much talk, though. That could have been the fear shutting down conversation or it could have been that they were just totally exhausted. Or, worse, it could have been defeat. After so many struggles and pyrrhic victories along the way, I could see the fight going out of them. Hell, I could feel it easing out of me.
The zombies were bad enough, but in our latest disastrous encounter with our own kind, the living, we had barely escaped. That had cost us two of our own and the wounds didn’t end there as thoughts of Carla lingered in the back of my mind. She was out there wandering on her own. Things were just plain bad,but it was my fear that things were only going to get worse. The use of nukes was an ominously bad sign, but I tried to put it out of my mind and only thought of positive things like a hot shower and a soft bed. Those would have to wait because, as usual, we were on the run again.
We drove the rest of the day. Robbie and I got in the cab with Joni. My job was to navigate, Joni’s was to drive, and I think Robbie was designated as our unofficial chaperone
since Dave had to stay back in the trailer with the kids.
We spoke little other than to make sure we were headed in the right direction. Robbie flipped on the truck’s radio periodically, but it was all bad news. There was no definitive information on when the bombs were going to drop, but every announcement made it seem imminent. With news like that, we decided to keep the radio off most of the time.
I directed Joni around Atlanta. Big cities were a big no-no. Once you’ve seen one massive horde streaming out of a major artery out of a city or downtown skyscrapers caught up in an all consuming inferno, you knew cities were things to avoid.
The hypnotic sound of the engine and the tires on the pavement lulled us into a lower state of consciousness as we were all on autopilot after the long and tiring ordeal of the previous night. More than once I had to prod Joni back to full wakefulness as her eyelids sagged and the truck drifted across the double yellows. Not that it mattered, really. No one was headed back the way we had come from. The exodus was on and everybody was headed away from the south.
The government had been right about one thing and that was the fact that people had evacuated. We saw very few vehicles on the road. Most were like us and were headed either north or east. Between the zombies and the impending nukes, the south was becoming a no man’s land.
In several places, we had to slow to a crawl to make it around abandoned cars. At one point, we had to break through what looked like an abandoned military check point. All of these obstacles slowed us down, eating up precious time.
At times, we saw bodies along the road. We didn’t stop to inspect them, but I could tell that many of them had been zombies. Some had been shot, while others had been ran over by those in a hurry to get the hell out of Dodge. It’s no wonder people were listening and obeying the evacuation orders. All it took was one zombie to tell you that where you lived was no longer safe. I was beginning to worry if any place was safe.
Inside each one of us, there was a clock ticking away, waiting for either the bright flash of a bomb to be the last thing we ever saw or maybe some other unexpected calamity to befall us. Maybe more road bandits or a horde of zombies. Optimism was in limited supply in our group at that point.
My eyes felt scratchy and half burned after staring ahead for so long. My eyelids nearly closed when a loud banging noise from just behind my head woke me up. I jerked awake and nearly gave myself whiplash as I turned to see what it was.
That’s when a voice came from the back through the wall. “The kids have to pee.” It was Dave.
Joni gradually slowed the truck down as we entered a one stoplight town on the east edge of Georgia just a few miles before the border of South Carolina. It was called Hartwell or Hartley or something like that. It really didn’t matter. Half the towns we cruised through were already dead. Hartley, Hartwell, or whatever it was either there or on its way there. A few of the houses had lights on, but I wasn’t sure anyone was home.
My knees cracked when I got out and my legs felt like rubber. It had been too many miles since I had been outside the cab of the truck. The others came out of the trailer like refugees of a war with vacant stares, waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. I would have liked to have cheered them up with some positive pep talk, but I was thinking the shoe was really a boot. A giant-sized boot made for Paul Bunyan and it was ready to stomp us flat.
“Where should I take them?” Dave asked Joni as Martin hopped around as if his bladder would burst at any moment. Jessica showed much more poise.
Joni looked to me and I said, “This place looks like a ghost town. Let’s try one of these houses.” Houses were spaced at irregular intervals along the street. On the right side of the street was one story brick house. There were no lights on or cars in the driveway. On the left was a white two-story house built in the old plantation style with tall white columns extending from the ground to the second floor roof.
Enie-meenie-minee-mo, I said to myself and picked the two-story house.
“Randell, do you want to accompany me?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said through a yawn.
“Let’s go,” I said and led our small group forward. The contingent was larger than I expected. It was Jessica and Joni, plus Jane. Maybe sitting too pee was a female primal urge not to be denied? I’m guessing the guys felt like they could find a nearby tree. Dave ushered Martin towards a wide oak tree just off the street. Jay followed along whistling slightly off-tune.
Robbie said, “Wait for me,” and joined our group. At least one man had a sit down performance to attend.
We moved off the asphalt, the sounds of crickets and other night creatures making their night music, filling the air. The partially parched grass crunched lightly underfoot sounding like we were stepping on dried angel hair pasta. It had been a while since this place has seen rain.
We made it to the front sidewalk and I put up a hand for the group to wait as I made the final approach with my gun in hand. The wood on the porch creaked a little as I stepped onto it. I waited to see if there was any reaction inside, but none came. It was two steps across the short porch and I was at the door. Again, I stopped to listen, but only heard the breeze blowing through the trees.
It was time to put my money where my mouth was as I grabbed the outer door and opened it. The inner door was made of solid wood and would effectively kept me out had it been unlocked, but it wasn’t. I grasped the door handle and heard the slightest of clicks when I turned it. The door offered no resistance and opened easily.
That’s when it hit me. A wall of moist and sickeningly oversweet decay wafted over me so powerful it nearly bowled me over. After being out in the open air lately, the smell acted almost like a physical wave. I definitely wasn’t prepared for it. I gasped and took a step back.
“What is it?” Randell asked as he switched off the safety on his rifle, the click sounding like a gunshot in the clear night air. I nearly jumped, but the insects and night creatures took that as their cue to end their performance mid-stream and the night went quiet.
“Stay back,” I said as I braced myself to enter. I stepped forward and the smell assaulted me again. I fought back the urge to toss my cookies and pushed the door fully open.
The smell was bad, and, of course, it made me think of the undead, but there was a difference in this odor. Something not so fresh and active. There was an undercurrent of staleness.
I stood still in the doorway letting my eyes adjust to the interior darkness and gradually the dark world within became more discernable. A long hallway extended back into the house with a tall China cabinet along the wall. I stared into the shadows for any movement, but saw none.
“I’m going inside,” I said in a low voice. “If you hear a gunshot, get everyone back to the truck and wait for me. If I don’t say anything or don’t come out, go on without me.”
“If its dangerous, you shouldn’t go in,” Joni said.
“I don’t think it is, but you never know about these things,” I said. To cut off any further debate, I stepped inside and let the door close behind me and immediately regretted it. With the door open, the fresh air was cut off leaving me in the cloying stench inside.
I crept forward and looked into a room on my right. An expansive dining room table filled the room surrounded by high backed wooden chairs. I thought I could make out place settings in front of each chair, but the light was too dim to be sure.
I turned my attention to the room on my left. A persistent buzzing seemed to emanate out the dark room. I initially thought the buzzing was in my ears because I was listening so intently, but the longer I stood there, the more I knew it was a very real sound. The room was nearly pitch dark and no matter how long I stared into it, it didn’t get any lighter. And like an idiot, I had left our single flashlight in the truck.
There was nothing to do, but enter. I did this with my gun extended in front of me with the safety off and my finger on the trigger. I only hoped some stubborn homeowner didn’t decide to stumble ou
t of the shadows because they’d get a face full of lead whether they were living or dead.
Something buzzed by my cheek and then another something did the same by my ear. The buzzing intensified as I moved forward, a cautious step at a time. In the dim light, I could barely make out dark shapes against the back wall of the room. The shapes were long and low and were mostly symmetrical. They could only be furniture of some sort.
I side-stepped and promptly rammed my shin into something hard. The sound of something tumbling over in the dark followed and the buzzing sound increased. More things buzzed by my head as I jumped back and aimed down at whatever had fallen over. I poked out with my foot and it hit something wooden and solid.
It didn’t move. I continued toward the front of the room with my gun aimed into the darkness at the back of the room. I kept my attention locked on the shadows and groped with my other hand for the wall. After a few seconds, it hit something soft, yet scratchy that yielded to my hand. I pushed against and, at first, I thought it was drapery, but upon deeper inspection decided it had to be something much heavier like a blanket or a bedspread.
I grasped it in my hands and gave it a hard tug. Something ripped and the covering came free, spilling onto the floor around my feet. The buzzing things filled the air, flying this way and that.
Moonlight streamed in through the windows and I saw two bodies on a long couch at the back of the room. A knee height coffee table sat directly in front of the couch. One body was covered with a yellow and white quilt. The other body was only partially covered with what was left of its head exposed. I didn’t want to do a close inspection, but moved close enough to see the head was that of an elderly man. Most of his head was gone and a shotgun sat across his lap. The form under the blanket could have been anyone because I wasn’t about to pull off the quilt, although I thought I saw a dark stain about where the head would be. A black swarm of flies hovered over the bodies, flitting this way and that.
Forget The Zombies (Book 3): Forget America Page 13
