Fighting the ragged exhaustion that gripped my limbs, I swam a few minutes until my hand touch the side of the boat. The hull was low enough in the water that I could swing my body onto the lowest deck. It took all of my energy to clamber aboard. The floor here was covered with water and rising fast. Thanks to the adrenaline rushing through my veins, I managed to half-stumble to the closest door and let myself in. This was the casino area where Allison and Sarah should have been. They weren’t here. The destruction of the explosion on the far side of the hull was evident by the broken slot machines, furniture, and litter strewn on the soaked carpeting. The far wall had a massive hole that was a chaotic jag of wood. Broken glass was on the floor.
The ship gave a shudder and an unnerving groan. With a heavy burble of water, it listed hard to one side. Water began to rush through the hole. Thrown off balance I lurched toward the stairs and grabbed the banister. Using some last remnant of strength I pulled myself up to the next floor. This was the dining area. The tables had been overturned and chairs had been thrown around like a bar fight had erupted. There wasn’t anyone here either. From here the sound of the helicopter above was clearer than before. I kept on going upward.
The Blackhawk was here, just pulling away from the deck. I ran toward it, my fists clenched. No one saw me coming. Before I could get to the helicopter it was out of my reach. I screamed and shouted but my voice couldn’t be heard over the sound of the rotors. I didn’t know if Sarah or Allison or Trevor was on board. I felt helpless as I watched the receding lights of the helicopter disappear.
I had a sudden realization of cold. I was soaking wet on a sinking ship and I had to get to shore. But there was one more place I had to check. I scrambled over the wreckage to the pilot house. It had taken a lot of damage; the door was ripped from the hinges and the wood wall was torn with shrapnel. With shaking hands I pushed through the destruction. There was Trevor, slumped forward against the wheel. Even in the gloom I could tell he was dead. The large fragment of wood sticking out of his back only added to that conclusion. I still checked, feeling for a pulse on the neck. There was nothing there. The flesh was already turning cold.
Without looking at Trevor’s face – the loss of another friend was too much to bear – I scrounged through the remnants of the pilot house as quickly as I could. There were a few snacks and a thermos of coffee. I put these in a plastic bag that had been used to hold trash, and added a thin coat that was hanging on the wall. Before I could look for anything more, the ship gave a violent lurch, and pitched hard to the starboard side. The top of the prow was now all the way underwater. It wouldn’t be long before the whole boat went turtle , at best, or just went all the way down. I had to leave.
The old brain wasn’t making all of the connections it should have. I blamed the shock and unreality of the moment. It took me a second to remember the rowboat stowed away at the stern. I ran outside and down the length of the deck. There was the row boat. It was still covered and appeared to be undamaged. I removed the cover, threw the bag in, and wrestled the boat over the side. It fell into the water with a splash and, thankfully, remained upright. I then lowered myself into the craft, grabbed the oars, and began rowing toward the shore, away from the boat and the burning city.
October 30th – Morning
The rowboat was pulled against the shore. I had found a small, deserted house. I had broken in and then stumbled into the living room to crash on the sofa. I was too tired to check for vampires. Instead I had fallen into a dreamless sleep. When I woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. The light was flooding through the closed drapes. I sat up, and rubbed my temples. My head hurt.
Once the pain behind my eyes lessened I could finally take in my surroundings. The living room I was sitting in was small and filled with furniture. The walls were cluttered with art, mostly prints and some that looked original but not-quite professional. Lying on the floor was a red oriental rug. I got up, wishing I hadn’t, and limped into the kitchen. My joints and muscles hurt. I felt as if I had run a hundred miles while carrying the world over my shoulders.
The kitchen, with smelly dirty dishes stacked on the countertop, had windows that overlooked the river. The city of Cairo was still on fire, but the wall of flame was gone and replaced by trails of black smoke that rose high into the blue sky. I looked at this for a few moments. I thought about what happened last night.
The Apache helicopter attack was without warning which meant that the rest of the military had been alerted of our escape from Desmond. Whoever discovered us was has been ordered to shoot first. But the kidnapping of Allison and Sarah meant they were still rounding up civilians who were immune. When the Blackhawk left the boat, it was heading south, maybe towards New Orleans. But why? I had to go there to rescue my friends, and to find out why. But first I needed to eat, gather some supplies, and find a way to get where I wanted to go. It was time to get to work.
I started by searching the kitchen. There was nothing here. Moving over to the bedrooms, which were thankfully empty of the dead, I found the man who had lived here had a build that was close to mine. I dressed in a pair of blue jeans, some wool socks, a long sleeve shirt, and a plain gray sweater that had a few moth holes. A set of keys was on the nightstand. I returned to the living room, searched fruitlessly around there before going outside. The garage door opened easily enough. Along with the usual gardening tools there was an old Chevy truck here with soft tires. I got inside and searched through the keys until I found one that fit the ignition. The indicator lights came on. With a prayer I turned the key and, after a brief pause, the engine just caught before the battery died. According to the gauge the tank was at the quarter level. Nonetheless I left the truck idling to charge the battery while I left the garage and decided to search the house next door.
This required a short hike through the woods. The fallen leaves, which were a rainbow of colors, scrunched underneath my feet. A wave of loneliness hit me. I wondered if I would ever see Allison or Sarah again. Or would I be alone until the ends of my days, which would either be from starvation or being consumed by the vampires? It wasn’t a pleasant thought but it clung to me, unshakeable. These dark thoughts only served to make me work harder. Even if all of the odds were against me, the army and a horde of vampire, it just meant that I had nothing to lose. Even if I did die in a rescue attempt it was still better than the alternatives.
This house was a much larger place: newer construction, overwrought Spanish styling that didn’t fit the locale, and a massive garage. Whoever had lived here not only had money to spare but also a lack of taste. The lawn, that had been planted here to replace their part of the woods, was thick and overgrown. Little saplings, seeds fallen from the nearby trees, were already growing. It would only be a few years before the forest reclaimed this land.
The garage doors were open but there weren’t vehicles here. Whoever lived here had left in a hurry. Maybe they had left something valuable behind. I went into the garage. Next to a riding lawnmower was a red plastic can of gasoline. It looked to be half-full. It wasn’t much but it was a start. I left that there and tried the handle of the side door. It was locked but made of a flimsy enough wood that a few hard kicks took care of that. I went in. This was the kitchen. The cupboard doors were all open but there were a few cans still inside. I found a plastic bag and gathered my loot – pears, corn, chicken soup, and broth cubes. It wasn’t much but it looked like a feast. There was also a still-sealed container of whey protein powder, chocolate flavored. Someone must have considered themselves a bodybuilder.
The living room consisted of a brown leather sofa, a bookcase, two lounge chairs, a massive television that took up most of the corner, and, to my surprise, a gun cabinet. I ran up to the dusty glass and found it was locked. But there was a shotgun inside. A hardcover book took care of the glass and I found myself in possession of a vintage Peabody double-barrel shotgun with ornate gold leaves embedded on the stock. It looked pretty and I’m sure it wasn’t a piece that
was used very often, but it could still kill. That’s all that mattered. Inside the cabinet was a box that contained a handful of shells. And that’s all. There wasn’t a pistol, which was a disappointment but I was happy to be armed again. I loaded the shotgun, and then proceeded to search the rest of the house. I found nothing useful in the bedrooms, which were a mess of clothes lying on the floor. The basement, however, yielded up a sleeping bag among the other items stored away.
With my prizes, I walked back to the truck, which was still running. I dumped the gasoline from the can into the tank, stowed my gear on the passenger seat, and took off down the driveway. The truck seemed to be running pretty good; it was old enough that it just had a simple six-cylinder engine and not a lot of creature comforts. That was fine by me.
I drove a little north, found the highway onramp, and then, after a few miles, took a bridge over the Mississippi River. It was already getting late in the day. I must have slept in later than I thought. By the time the sun was setting, the low gasoline warning light had gone on. I pulled off on the nearest exit, drove into a gas station, and then over the curb and into the bushes behind the building. There I parked the truck, shut off the engine, and just listened. No one came out to see what I was doing there. I opened a can of peaches and ate the contents using my fingers. When I was done, I pulled out the sleeping bag and got inside. I was asleep within minutes, using the bench seat as my bed.
When I woke, it was early in the morning. I got out of the truck, stretched, and looked over my surroundings. I still felt as if I was in a daze, completely unable to grasp the reality of my situation. I knew that the further I stayed out here alone, the more likely my sanity would come into doubt. Like a man possessed, I had to rescue Allison and Sarah, or die trying. After eating a quick meal of uncooked chicken soup, I went to the gas station. There was no sign that anyone had recently been here but I still took no chances. I approached as close as I could get from the woods, shotgun at the ready. My precautions were for nothing. The interior, which had been thoroughly looted, was a mess. But I was able to find another empty gas can, a little hand pump to fill the tires, and a candy bar that had been stepped on. The package was still intact though. It would make a good lunch.
Using the same tactics that Sarah and I had used before, I found the keys to the main gas tanks. I opened them, and a few hours later, was able to fill the tank of the truck and even have enough to top off the two gas cans I had. That would be enough fuel to get me to New Orleans, provided the vampires didn’t get me first.
October 30th – Afternoon
The rest of the day blurred into the task of driving. I went as fast as I could, but it seemed as if fate was slowing my trip at every turn. The highway was mostly clear, but around towns there was always the chance of car pileups. These weren’t necessarily caused by accidents. Instead it looked as if people had just decided to park their cars on the highway and camp out. Maybe they had run out of gasoline, or perhaps, towards the end as the disease had spread everywhere, people had just given up. Driving around these obstacles took time. I would often have to backtrack to the previous highway exit, take the side road through the city and then back on to the highway.
These detours led to an interesting discovery. The towns I saw were all burned out, as if someone had come along and purposefully set all of the buildings on fire. I remembered my own suburb, and then the town of Cairo. The military had done that. Were they systematically reducing the places that the vampires could hide? It seemed like a fool’s errand since there wasn’t enough gasoline or napalm left in the world to do the job.
I passed the Louisiana state border late in the afternoon. Even though it had been less than two days, I still felt as if I had been alone forever. I missed Allison and her dark, mysterious eyes; I also missed Sarah and her constant chatting. Instead I only had myself, the sound of tires against gravel, and the rushing of the fan that tried to keep the cabin cool. It was hot down here and the trees along the side of the road were lush with leaves and dark Spanish moss. The untrimmed highway felt like a tunnel of green as the sun cast long shadows across the pavement. It felt like a dreamland, one that I had a hard time staying awake in.
This state of mind didn’t help. Once I saw a fluttering plastic bag stuck on a tree branch and thought it was a person waving at me. Only when I drew closer did I realize what it was. And one time I saw a small town storefront, that had somehow managed to survive a fire, with a mannequin inside. But I would swear upon my honor that it was a finely dressed woman with dark hair that reminded me too much of Allison. I had to slow the truck down to do a double-take. And then chastised my imagination for running wild. I sped off in disgust.
By the time the sun began to set I was tired beyond belief, but instead of pulling over for the night, I continued to drive. I was so close now, and the last highway sign that I saw indicated I was only twenty-two miles away from New Orleans. I was getting close but I still had no idea exactly where this military base was. I was hoping I would see a helicopter overhead to guide me, but there was nothing up above but the stars. I drove on.
I saw my first vampire. It was a man in a grimy work jacket and blue jeans. He was crossing the highway, heading west. I had to swerve the truck to miss him. He gave chase but disappeared quickly in the gloom. A minute later I saw another one, this time it was a woman wearing nothing but the remnant of a tattered night gown. She was also headed west and only stopped heading that direction to fruitlessly try and catch me. I had an idea. I drove a mile ahead before gently pulling off, pointing the nose of the truck straight down into the ditch. The truck went up and over, crashed through the wire fence, and ended up in a marshy field. Keeping the gas pedal down, the back tires slipped and slid through the weedy mud. Driving past a cypress tree with low branches, I shut off the lights and stopped. I killed the engine.
Sliding sideways on the bench, I opened the door and let myself out. I then gently closed the door and headed west with the shotgun tucked under my arm. I remembered how the vampires gathered around the fence of Desmond. Maybe they were doing the same here with the base. That would explain why the military was trying to burn the vampires out – to relieve the nightly onslaught against their own defenses. In my tired state of mind it made some sort of sense.
The wilderness here seemed to be working against me. I splashed and slid along as unseen branches whipped against my face. After struggling up an embankment, I came to a road. It wasn’t much of a road – a peppering of crunching gravel over a dirt rut, but it was roughly heading in the direction that I wanted to go. Aware that I was heading in the same direction as the vampires, I went cautiously, staying close to the embankment. It was only a few minutes before my paranoia paid off. I heard someone approaching; crashing through the underbrush.
I ducked down and stepped gently into the trees to hide myself. Through the branches I could just make out a figure stepping onto the road, and then, like a hunting dog following a scent, plunge back into the forest. I was about to break cover when I heard something else coming through the woods close behind me. I stopped, crouching closer to the ground. The shotgun was up, ready to fire. A twig snapped. Through a branch I could see someone. They had hair hanging long and unkempt. I held my breath, praying the creature would continue on. It did. Like its companion, it was heading mindlessly west. I had to find out where.
Counting to a hundred, I waited. From there I crept slowly through the underbrush, trying to head in the same direction that the vampires were going. Without any light to guide me, it was hard to not get lost. I slipped and stumbled along, swore as quietly as I could, and prayed that I wouldn’t walk into a whole group of the creatures. It was only minutes but it seemed like hours when I came to an opening in the trees. I stopped there and crouched down low to crawl on my knees. Under the safety of a large bush I parted the long grass and found myself looking downhill onto a wide field. It was crammed with vampires. There must have been thousands of them down there. A paved road, with un
lit lampposts edged along the side, led to a tall chain link fence. On top of the fence were lit spotlights that moved across the mass of the foul creatures. Behind this barrier I could see an army base: rows of buildings, landing pads with helicopters, a half-dozen tanks and Hummers, along with a tall communication tower that blinked with a red light.
As I watched a shot of flame came from behind the fence. It was a flamethrower. The liquid fire fanned across the nearest creatures. A machine gun opened up with a staccato burst, tracers showing the deadly path of lead as it swept through the crowd. But the vampires didn’t seem to care if they were being consumed by flame or chopped down. Soon the flamethrower and machine gun stopped, replaced by several intermittent flashes of separate small arms fire. A curious whump noise made me hold my breath. Something exploded in the throng of vampires, sending bodies and body parts flying through the air. Mortars? A few more rounds struck, the explosions making the earth beneath my feet tremble.
In a few minutes, it was all over for the vampires here but their numbers were quickly replenished by a steady stream of arriving replacements. When this next group was large enough, and pressing heavily against the fence, the fireworks started all over again. The mounting dead littered the ground, making high mounds of corpses.
I decided it was time to scout the base out. There had to be some way in, perhaps a break in the fence that I could use early in the day once the vampires had left. I went off to the left, staying under the cover of the woods. The sound of the explosions and gunfire covered whatever noise I made pushing through the thick underbrush. But it also stopped me from detecting if anyone - or anything - was ahead. My luck ran out in only a few minutes.
The Dead Are Sleeping Page 19
