The Dead Are Sleeping

by Paul Westwood

“You’re saying I should give up the spare truck key and give someone the rifle or the shotgun?” I eyed Joel. “I don’t see that happening.”

  He said, “I know you don’t trust me and I don’t blame you one bit. That will take some time. But we were thinking of Allison here, at least, could have the extra car key.”

  I looked at her. Allison was a lovely woman, one that many men would love to be with. That made me suspicious, or perhaps I was feeling guilty over my wife. I wasn’t ready to let someone like Allison into my life; at least not yet. But they did have a point. If I was killed with my keys, then their chance of surviving was greatly reduced. However the idea of her stealing - along with the help of Joel - the truck from me, leaving Sarah and I stranded was an idea that left me cold. “What about the gun?” I finally asked, pushing that decision off.

  “I was thinking that I would like to have my rife back,” Joel suggested. “I’m a good shot, provided the target is a few hundred yards out. As you saw, I’m not so good working close up.”

  “That’s not happening.”

  Sarah said, “We thought of a compromise. Joel can have his gun back but I’ll hold onto the bullets. That way he can’t shoot anything unless I let him.”

  Her eyes were pleading for me to give in. I wondered whose idea this was. But I was feeling tired – tired of the responsibility and having to do all the work. Just letting someone else drive would let me get some badly needed rest. As for Joel and that rifle of his, I would have to keep my pistol close by. “Okay,” I finally said. “But I want it understood that I’m the leader here and this is not a democracy. If we run into trouble, I’m giving the orders.”

  I dug the keys out of my pocket and pulled the extra truck key off of the ring. I handed it to Allison, who tucked the key into her front pocket. I went to the truck, removed the clip from the rifle, and removed the four cartridges inside. I also removed the one still in the chamber. I then went back and handed the gun to Joel, feeling that I was making the wrong decision. He seemed happy enough though, and looked through the scope while aiming the rifle off at some unknown target in the distance.

  “There is something else that we have to consider,” I said. “With four of us in the group now, that’s two more mouths to feed. We have enough supplies to last maybe three or four days. At the speeds we’re taking along these side roads, and if we always stop before nightfall, that means we are going to burn through the food before we get to New Orleans. We have to find a store, or come along a cache of food, and the sooner the better. I would also like to get some more shells for the shotguns, and even ammunition for the rifle and Sarah’s pistol. That means a hardware or a sporting goods store. Add in finding extra fuel, we’re talking at least a medium-sized town that we can scavenge. According to the map, which I studied yesterday, there is a nearby town called Lone Oaks. It doesn’t look too big and it’s not near a main highway.”

  “Why does that matter?” Joel asked.

  “Maybe not much at all,” I explained. “But if my thinking is right, then it could mean that the stores are still relatively untouched. Any of the big cities have highways going through them. That means more travelers going through and more looting.”

  “I see,” Joel said, not sounding very convinced.

  “It is only an hour from here. It’s not too far out of our way.”

  After breakfast, which Sarah cooked on the little camp stove, we all loaded back into the truck. The sun was hidden behind dark clouds that were heavy with rain. It was warmer here down south. The trees still had some leaves and the grass was thick. The roads were getting overgrown now with the weeds nearly choking out the shoulder. In a few years the pavement would crack and become impassable. After that the trees would start to take over.

  We reached Lone Oaks just before noon. A quiet rain was pelting the windshield. This was a small place: older homes grouped around a main thoroughfare that consisted of tiny tourist trap shops, restaurants, and a post office. There was a grocery store and a hardware store located right next to each other, sharing the same small parking lot. There were only two cars here, both with flat tires. Their windshields were intact. In fact the entire town looked to be in remarkably good condition. Except for the overgrown grass, one would think that everyone had gone to sleep for the afternoon. The small population here must have died quick.

  I pulled into the parking lot and shut the engine off.

  “Let’s try the hardware store first,” I said.

  “We could move quicker if we split up,” Joel suggested. “Sarah and I could take the hardware while you and Allison take the grocery store.”

  The idea of Joel finding a cache of guns and ammunition was not something that I wanted to think of. Or he could attack Sarah and take the cartridges she was holding in her pocket. “I think we should stick together,” I said firmly.

  “You’re the boss,” Joel said with a smile that I did not find endearing.

  I got out of the truck with the shotgun and the flashlight. The rest followed me to the entrance.

  The front doors of the hardware store were unlocked. I motioned for the others to stay outside while I looked around. Once inside, I saw that everything was dusty. But there were a number of footprints visible on the floor. It was hard to tell how long it has been since someone had been here. The shelves weren’t particularly well-stocked, like everywhere else there has been a run on batteries, tools, and plastic sheeting. I turned the flashlight on and played the beam along the aisles. It wasn’t a very large place. In the very back I could see a sign that indicated where the firearms were sold. I headed that way, going slow enough that I couldn’t be caught by surprise.

  I reached the counter without seeing anyone. There wasn’t anything underneath the glass, just empty space with tags that indicated the make and model of the gun. But behind the counter were a few boxes of shotgun shells, and rifle and pistol ammunition. It looked picked over but I was able to find a box of shotgun shells. The other ammunition was the wrong size for my pistol. Perhaps Joel could find something for that rifle of his.

  I went back to the front door and opened it. “Come on it. Get anything you need but nothing more than you can fit in a single grocery bag. “Joel, there is ammunition in the back. If any of it will work with that rifle of yours, I’ll want to know. But for now, hand me your gun.”

  He stared hard at me and then, after a shrug, shot me another loopy grin. He handed the rifle over and walked to the back of the store.

  I turned my attention to the other two. “Sarah, keep an eye on him,” I said as I slung the rifle over my back. “I’m going to look for more stove fuel. Allison, I want you to look for a pair of sleeping bags, batteries, and water purifying tables. Also four canteens and maybe even a tent.”

  “Are we planning to camp out?”

  “I hope not, but you never know where we are going to end up at night. I would hate to sleep all four of us in that truck. None of us will get any rest if it comes to that.”

  After a hurried rush, we had moved out what we needed to the truck. Joel found one full box of ammunition. I counted the rounds to make sure none were missing. There were no batteries, but the rest of the camping supplies had been found. By the time we were done the bed of the truck was beginning to look like a gypsy caravan.

  I looked up at the sky. The clouds were even thicker now. A bolt of lightning traced across the sky. It was close. It only took a count of two and there was a rumble of thunder. The rain, which had been light, suddenly came sluicing down. We ran to the grocery store. Without electricity the doors didn’t respond. A push didn’t open them either. I was getting soaked to the skin so I took the butt of the shotgun and shattered the glass. A few blows later and we were stepping inside the building.

  Like next door, the store had been thoroughly picked over. The shelves were mostly empty. There was a rank smell of rotting food with an undertone of melting freezer. We split up, each going down the aisles with a grocery cart to find whatever we coul
d. I went by the freezer section, which was a moldy mess. I had better luck in the little wine department, pulling several bottles of merlot. The bread, of course, was all moldy – the packages that hadn’t been eaten through by mice that is. I did manage to score several sealed containers of nuts, which would last a long time. I could hear Sarah and Allison laughing. That was a good sign. When I returned to the front of the store, it wasn’t a long wait before I had a chance to look over the finds of my companions.

  Sarah, who was smiling ear-to-ear, had a cart filled with candy and cookies. Allison had been more pragmatic and had managed to score a large sealed burlap bag of Indian brown rice; not very appetizing but a good base for canned food. She also found some dried beans, the type that needed to be soaked. Joel, to his credit, had gone straight for the canned foods. His cart was stacked full of items, but none of them looked particularly appetizing. There were, of course, the too many cans of green beans and creamed corn, along with some fruit cocktail, canned tamales, and an assortment of beans, Chinese vegetables, and burrito sauce. It was going to be an interesting to see what meals came out of this motley collection of food.

  I said, “Let’s load up and get out of here. There is still time to put some miles on the road.”

  We headed toward the entrance, each pushing our separate cart. But the sound of an engine, getting closer every second, stopped us. Someone was coming our way.

  October 24th - Afternoon

  I motioned for my companions to stay back while I investigated. Leaving the shopping cart behind, I went to the row of windows, which were plastered with advertising. Peering through the paper, I saw a rain drenched Hummer parked next to the truck. Out of this new vehicle spilled four soldiers – at least they were dressed as such – carrying assault rifles. They were wearing city camouflage uniforms, helmets, and tan boots, but also had breathing respirators with a plastic tube that ran to a little metallic air tank hanging on the waist. I took it these soldiers were not naturally immune. But those tanks were small, which would give these men a very small range of operation unless they were able to refill or carried extras.

  They were busy now, two looking through the windows of the truck while the others stood guard. It wouldn’t take them long to figure out where we had gone. We could try to fight it out, but we were outgunned. The other option, running for it, would mean we would lose everything we had scavenged. I had to come up with something more cunning than that.

  I returned to the others. “There are soldiers out there. They have heavy weapons and can easily take us down. I’m going to go out and talk to them.”

  “Don’t!” Sarah shouted, eyes wide with fear.

  “Yeah the girl is right,” Joel said. “They’ll kill you.”

  I was surprised by his sudden concern. I said, “We can’t run. They’ll just hunt us down. Joel, get ready to use that rifle of yours. Sarah, give him the bullets. If I run into trouble, I want you to take them out.”

  I didn’t have any chance to explain further. Nor did I like trusting Joel but I didn’t have much choice. I just hoped that he wouldn’t put a bullet in my back. I turned on my heel and started for the doors. Before going out, I took the pistol out of the front of my waistband, where it was covered by my shirt, and tucked it in the back, where it pressed heavily against the lower part of the spine. After carefully stepping past the broken glass of the door, I went out slowly with the shotgun held over my head. I was soon drenched with rain.

  The soldiers quickly saw my movement. I had four rifles pointed in my direction.

  “Put the gun on the ground!” the lead soldier shouted. His voice was muffled, sounding almost alien, by the restriction of the air mask.

  I did as he suggested, moving slowly since I didn’t want anyone with an itchy trigger finger to get startled by a sudden movement. The shotgun was soon lying by my feet.

  The four of them edged closer, their guns pointed at me.

  “What are you doing here, civilian?” the same soldier asked. “This town here is protected by the Southern Army Command. We’re here to keep looters out.”

  “Just trying to get some food,” I replied. I kept my expression as neutral as I could. “What is the Southern Command?”

  “I’ll ask the questions here,” he shot back.

  They were only a few feet away now, stopped and keeping their distance.

  “Look at him, sergeant,” another soldier said. “He doesn’t look sick.”

  “Are you infected?” the sergeant asked.

  I now recognized the three tan stripes on his shoulder. He was obviously the one in charge. Shaking my head, I replied, “No I am not infected, just hungry and almost out of gas. I’m not looking for any trouble.”

  “Are there any others?”

  I noticed that the barrel of their rifles had dropped a tad. They weren’t quite ready to accept my story yet but they were a little more at ease. I replied, “No. I haven’t seen anyone since I’ve left Michigan.”

  “That’s a long trip. You mean you haven’t been attacked at night by the pale people?”

  There was no reason to tell them anything. I just wanted them to move on without any trouble. That plan, however, wasn’t to be.

  “Sergeant,” the other soldier said, “our air tanks are getting low and we only have the one backup left. We have to get back to base. You remember Captain Lucas gave us orders to pick up anyone who wasn’t sick.”

  Damn, I thought to myself.

  “Thanks for reminding me, soldier,” the sergeant said. “Get in with us, civilian, and we’ll drive you back to the base for questioning.”

  “What about all my stuff,” I said, pointing to the truck.

  “One of my men will drive it,” the sergeant suggested. “Now move it!”

  The barrels of their guns went up again, pointed right at my chest. I didn’t have much choice but to follow them. In a second they would discover the pistol, take it away, and then force me into the Humvee. I took a step back, putting my hands together to plead my case. But I never got the chance. There was the sound of a shot from behind me and at the same time the sergeant’s face blossomed into a red flower of blood and bone. There was a momentary pause of shock by everyone as his body slid to the ground. It took a second for me to register that it was Joel, shooting that rifle of his. And then all hell broke loose. I rolled to the ground and to my right as the assault rifles opened up. The bullets struck the ground next to me, sending splinters of asphalt right into the skin of my thigh. I didn’t take the time to examine the wound. My heart was beating fast with fear. Those rifles weren’t so good at close range, not if I could keep moving and especially if I could duck behind some cover.

  Another shot rang out from behind me. There was a pause in the shooting. I didn’t take the time to see if Joel’s shot was on target. Instead I pulled the pistol out from the back of my waistband. I pulled myself up and ran to the side of the truck. A few more assault rifle shots were fired but it didn’t seem to be coming toward my direction. And then the firing stopped. I poked my head over the bed of the truck. I saw two of the soldiers dragging a third away, who had a bloodied shoulder. They were headed toward the Humvee. I couldn’t see their faces through the respirators but they were acting scared.

  I couldn’t let them go. They could have a radio inside their vehicle which would call in reinforcements. I didn’t know what kind of reserves they would have back at base, nor did I want to find out. I steadied my arms using the side of the truck, aiming down the sights of the pistol. They were only a twenty steps away. When I had the shot lined up I squeezed the trigger. There was a crack of the bullet and one of the upright soldiers went down, clutching his chest with a jerk of pain. His remaining friend didn’t stick around to see what happened next. He dropped his rifle and ran for the Humvee. I snapped off another shot but it missed. Joel joined in, firing another shot that ended up striking the front fender with a metallic clang.

  The soldier was inside the Humvee now. The diesel cla
ttered alive. It was quickly put into gear and began moving backwards. I opened up with the pistol, fruitlessly nicking a few chunks out of the vehicle body, and one bullet spider webbing the windshield. The heavy truck then began moving forward, steering out of the parking lot and making it to the road. Joel managed to fire one more time, the bullet striking the rear glass with no effect. Soon the Humvee was out of sight.

  I took a deep, shuddering breath. I realized that I was shaking. It had been a near thing.

  The others spilled out from the store, Sarah taking the lead.

  “Tom, are you okay?” she asked, looking at my bloodied thigh.

  I looked down at my leg and saw where the asphalt fragments had pierced the jeans. There was a line of blood there. “Nothing serious,” I said in reply. “I’ll bandage it up and then we will have to pack the truck up and get the hell out of here. We don’t know what kind of help that escaped soldier is going to bring back.”

  “What about the wounded soldiers here?” Allison asked with concern.

  I had forgotten about them. The one I had shot was looking sickly green, while the one that Joel had wounded was trying to crawl away. The dead sergeant wasn’t going anywhere. He was a sickening sight.

  “We have to leave them here,” I said.

  “We can’t do that,” Allison angrily said. “They will die if we don’t do something for them.”

  “No,” Joel said. “He’s right. We can’t help them. There isn’t any time.”

  This was the first time that Joel and I had agreed with anything. He had also saved my life. I would have to reconsider my position on him later. Right now wasn’t the time.

  “Joel is right. There is also the matter of that bottled air. We don’t have any for them. Once they breathe without a respirator, they’ll be dead soon enough. Maybe their friends will come back in time to save them. It’s all we can do.”

  That seemed to placate Allison. We packed the food into the truck as quickly as we could. When we were finished, I hopped behind the wheel and started up the engine. Joel got in behind me. I saw Allison and Sarah briefly stopping at their doors, looking at the blood on the pavement. They looked a little sick. I was feeling the same way, the shock of the moment melting away into an uneasy queasiness. I would never get hardened to killing.