The Orphans (Book 2): Surviving the Turned

by Evans, Mike

  The man said, “Who the hell do you think you are, kid? Get that damn gun off of me now, boy.”

  He tried to turn around, but Shaun pushed harder with the rifle and said, “We are just trying to survive. Unfortunately for you, you’ve got a lot to learn and a hell of a short time to learn it. If you have supplies, sir, then I suggest you just stay here safe and sound; if not, I say get the biggest truck with the most gas that you have and drive until you find a safe place. Oh, and don’t go to Des Moines. It’s been completely overrun.”

  “You kids are all crazy, you know that? What the hell do you all want then?”

  “For now we just want one SUV; that’s it. You got anything more than just that shotgun here?”

  “It’s all I need to take care of your type.” He set the shotgun down, and Shaun motioned for Tina to pick it up. The man laughed. “Well, at least let the cute crackhead be the one to shoot me.”

  Tina and Ellie both looked at the man baffled. Ellie said, “We aren’t going to shoot you. Now show us what these keys go to.”

  The man walked by a fire alarm and started to reach for it. Shaun screamed, catching the girls, who were unaware of this, off guard. “Don’t you dare touch that fire alarm, for god’s sake; you're going to bring on every one of those freaks out there. If you seriously don't know what’s going on, then I’m doing you a huge favor. You got plenty of trucks here and they aren’t going to do you any good going forward. You aren’t ever going to sell another one of them again. Just get us one and we’ll leave and you’ll never see us again.”

  “Well, as soon as you leave I’m calling the damn police and they’re going to throw your skinny asses in jail, you hear me?”

  They walked up to a large truck on the showroom floor where one of every model was out for display. Ellie opened the door and read the number on the tag. Tina ran back and grabbed the right key. After they turned the key in the truck’s ignition, they saw the gas gauge was sitting at three-quarters of a tank. Shaun hoped the gas pumps were still working; he wanted to have any extra gas that they could collect for the big gas-eating vehicle.

  Ellie pointed at one of the efficient cars on the floor that was two wheel drive and small. Shaun shook his head no. “It’d be nice if we could take more with us, Ellie, but we need something that will let us go anywhere anytime. Think about wintertime the snow out in the woods can be brutal. In bad conditions, this thing might have a hard time getting out on that gravel road. Remember, going forward, there isn’t going to be any snow removal.”

  Ellie said, “Yeah, it’s hard to think of the world in that way. I guess I keep hoping there is some way they can cure those things.”

  Walt was listening to this and getting a little curious about what they were discussing. He started peering out into the street but saw nothing. Shaun saw him and said, “If you go up to the roof, sir, you can see exactly what I’m talking about. Shoot them in the head, or they will tear you apart.”

  The man just stared at the group of kids. “Look, you little shits, I don’t know what you are talking about. God, I just wish that you’d leave. I’ve been upstairs since Friday, determined to get through two bottles of Templeton, and this week I finally won. I haven’t even came back downstairs since we closed shop on Saturday.”

  Shaun took the shotgun from Tina and unloaded it, ejecting the two shells. He handed them to the old man then walked the shotgun over and slid it across the floor far from his reach. Shaun opened the tailgate and the rear door, putting everything in the backseat. He took a big whiff and came back out. “You gotta love that new car smell, right?”

  Tina started the vehicle and pulled up to the doors that led to the infested streets. Shaun punched the door to go up and yelled back at Walt, “Shut these doors as soon as you can and get that gun loaded back up. Then get upstairs and go have a look for yourself. Good luck; sorry about, well, about all this.”

  As Tina pulled into the street, Shaun ran out behind her, jumped into the tailgate, and closed it. Walt staggered up to the door, screaming and shaking a fist. “You little bastards! You're just a bunch of pieces of shit. Do you hear me? I hope they throw the goddamned book at you, damn it. It’s too early for this shit, and I’m still hungover.”

  He pulled the security alarm located next to the door and the sound erupted through the building. Shaun whipped his head back around, yelling from the window to get inside but it was too little too late. The man’s blind rage did not allow him to focus on anything else but the truck and the teenagers who took it. When he finally heard the growling, he turned to see a mob of blood-covered people running toward him. His eyes grew wide and he turned to run into the shop. His old legs weren’t enough to get him to where he needed to be though.

  As he ran in through the garage, he hit the red button to lower the door; it came down slowly, inch-by-inch. He ran for the shotgun. “Goddamn kid couldn’t have just left the gun sitting somewhere.”

  He knelt down next to the shotgun, opened it with shaking hands, and loaded it. He turned around as he slowly rose to a crouch—as much of a crouch as his aging back would allow—and shouldered the shotgun, using the Cadillac that Shaun had slid the gun beneath as a barrier. At first, he heard nothing, but then the sound of growling filled the space until that was the only thing he could hear. The growling wasn’t coming from one individual; it sounded like hundreds, as though packs of monsters had converged upon his dealership. He peeked around the rear of the car and took a quick glimpse. Men and women, all looking like they had lost their minds, were roaming in front of the large glass door.

  He stood, walking slowly to the office. He wanted nothing but to get out of there but knew now that opening the front door was probably a bad idea. He still didn’t know what the hell the kid was talking about, but in sixty years of living in the city, no one had ever looked like or made a sound like those things. As he approached the alarm to turn it off, the large group of Turned stopped directly in front of his door; they were wise to sounds and knew immediately that it was coming from the inside. As he was punching in the code, he thought one of them was going to attempt to see inside the window past the glare.

  Walt jumped back a foot, tripping and landing on his ass when the head that looked like it just wanted a peek began using its skull as a battering ram. One, two, three times, and the cheap glass started to splinter and spider web its way further out. Then the rest followed the head banger’s example. With every crack of their skulls on the window, it turned red. The reddish-black streaks made their way throughout the glass in sloppy lines. Walt scrambled over and collected his shotgun from where it fell just as one managed to break its face all the way through. He saw the skin rip from the man's head after the glass sliced it away, but this did not hinder the man.

  Walt mouthed, “Mother of God,” and pulled back the hammers, wishing he had a machine gun instead of a damn double-barrel shotgun. He aimed at the man and forgetting what teenage boy had said, pulled the trigger sending two barrels’ worth of buckshot into the man’s chest. He disappeared instantly from the window. Walt lay on his back for a moment trying to breathe and trying to keep from having his third heart attack; he rubbed his chest, hoping the pain would stop. He thought about his weapon and the fact that he had just used the only two shots he’d brought downstairs with him, as he’d neglected to bring reloads… or for that matter, pants and shoes.

  The man who had disappeared came crashing through the window. Walt was already pushing off the ground to head back to the one bedroom apartment he kept for himself when a drinking binge was about to take place; with shotgun in hand, he ran up the steps for everything he was worth. He slammed the wood door that connected the office to his loft and an insistent pounding began. He said, “Oh, for the love of God. When will I learn to listen… when will I learn to listen? That damn kid was telling me everything I needed to know, and what do I do? I ring the fucking dinner bell!”

  He ran to the kitchen where he kept his extra shotgun shells and sli
d one in each barrel. He sloppily pulled on a pair of Levi’s and slid all the extra shells he had into his pockets. He sat watching the door, praying that the evil on the opposite side would stop its constant threat of trying to get in. His prayers would go unanswered that day. As the door burst open, a group straight out of hell raced through the door, followed by more running up the stairs, falling over each other to be the first to the man who was quite the prize to be had. He fired off two shots, taking out four of them. He opened the gun a second time, letting the two spent shells fly to wherever they might land. His building, unlike others, was not equipped with a ladder; he went to the third short flight of steps and ran, pushing out the door to the roof. Once there, he looked for anything he could use to keep the door secure and was rewarded with nothing. “Shit, what do I do now?”

  He ran to the edge of the building. The mob that had been at Bynum’s Hardware Store was now in front of his car dealership. He looked back at the heavy steel door as it exploded open. His eyes grew wide, and as his life flashed before his eyes, only regrets came to mind—and too many bottles of amber-colored drinks.

  Walt saw five of them coming for him. He did the sign of the cross, put the shotgun up to his mouth, and pulled the trigger. It clicked empty. He forgot to replace the shells. Realization of what his immediate future held set in. “Oh my god! What have I done?”

  He was standing on the edge, trying to get two shells out of his pocket when a shirtless man who was missing half of his chest came running toward Walt. Walt closed his eyes, not wanting to find out what they were going to do to him once the inevitable happened. He spread his arms, dropping the gun and fell backward off of the building. The Turned, who had been licking his lips watching him, ran for everything he was worth leaping off of the building, arms out, and catching up to Walt one story down. The vicious bite he tore out of Walt’s neck created a geyser of blood that sprayed across the street and onto the Turned below. When they saw the blood coming their way, they opened their mouths wide for a drink of what they craved so badly.

  Walt landed hard on the ground. The Turned who had been eating him landed headfirst, cracking his skull so badly that it put him out of his misery. The others ran for the fresh meal, picking up the Turned and throwing him far out of the way, as he was no longer a fellow feeder. The ones on the roof jumped out of frustration to get a taste of Walt. They landed breaking their legs, their arms, and in some cases spines. These bled on the ground, leaving a trail as they pulled themselves hand over hand toward the buffet

  *****

  Shaun pounded on the back window of the truck and Ellie slid it open. Shaun passed what gear was in the truck and then slid into the rear seat himself. “I really wish that old guy would have listened to me. He hasn’t a clue what he is in for, I’m telling you. “

  Tina replied, “Well, it isn’t like there was a lot of choice in the matter. Imagine going to sleep, thinking all is well and waking up to this. What can you do? How do you convince them of something like that?”

  “I know; I’m not disagreeing with you, but those things didn’t have a clue that he was in there until we were screwing around, stealing one of his cars.”

  Ellie turned around to look at him. “Shaun, there’s nothing that we can do about it now, like nothing, nada. He’s probably dead. If he’d have listened to you or not been threatening to shoot the two of us, then maybe he’d be sitting in the back seat with us. Instead, he’s stuck at his place hopefully locked down tight.”

  Shaun sat back in his seat as they drove the highway out of town, thinking of the man and thinking that if they were going to survive, they needed to stay ahead of the Turned and couldn’t put themselves in compromising positions like that again; it had been too close. He thought of the help he figured would be coming for the townspeople, but nothing has happened yet, one day into it. He didn’t want to go back to town for a very long time. He was debating two options; one was to spend the summer making sure that everyone who decided to stay at the cabin was capable of shooting the guns in their sleep. The second was to pack everything and make a break for somewhere. Anywhere would have to be better than here, he thought.

  They drove down the highway, navigating again through the abandoned cars. Tina turned the final left turn of the short drive. The clearing where they needed to park the car was only a quarter mile down the road. Tina pulled the truck over and parked it. “Remember, we got medicine and some of Patrick’s things while we were there, but we absolutely did not see anyone in his house. He won’t need any help feeling worse about being the only survivor of his family.”

  Ellie laughed. “So we’re gonna start keeping secrets this early in our little dysfunctional family?”

  Shaun thought about what each of them said and realized Tina had a valid and good point. “She’s right. There isn’t anything to be gained from it. If he decides he wants to go back to his house that badly then we will simply break it to him. The way I see it, if we only end up with one or two skeletons in our closet we’re doing okay. Besides, we already talked about this.”

  Ellie shrugged. “The more I had time to think about it, the more I think it’s a bad idea and I don’t like it at all.”

  Shaun laid his head back on his seat. He was exhausted from the number of times they could have died already and it was early in the day still. Shaun thought about his dad telling Ellie what had happened the day before and he barely whispered the thought out loud. “Ellie, just think of how you felt when Dad told you about your mom. No one needs to go through that twice. You don’t have to like it, but there isn’t any middle ground; we tell or we don’t. Is it that important to tell a guy who is already sick that we had to take out his once cute baby sister who Turned and ate their mother?”

  Ellie rested her head on the window. Her tears made their way down her cheeks. She thought about how she had felt yesterday, and the chunk of her heart Frank had ripped from her when he told her that her mother had gotten infected and that she was already gone, taken by those things. Frank had not mentioned to any of them that he had developed the drug that would change the world forever. She wiped at her face and nose. “I can’t think of any good reason. I guess it’s better that at least we discuss things, right?”

  Shaun was quick to come back with, “Dad said people had to earn trust; you, Tina, and Greg have done that already. If we want to make decisions about things, then it’s between us. The other three were just lucky people who got saved. They can be happy to be here until help comes or we are forced to move on.”

  Chapter 8: Discoveries

  Greg and Kristy left the cabin, both already feeling stir-crazy. They had found a hand-crank electric radio and decided they could take it out and see if there were any updates being made. Mike and Patrick decided to stay at the cabin. Patrick didn’t look like he was up for a hike just yet, especially until he knew if more of his medicine was on its way or not. Mike said he would be okay staying with him, and when the two left the cabin, the boys were already getting a pack of cards out and starting a game to try to keep their minds off of things.

  Greg took his rifle and a bag of ammunition with them for good measure, and after a short walk, they were at one of the highest points in the area that they could find. They thought that it would serve perfectly to rest for a while and see if there was any type of news coming from the outside.

  Greg placed the radio on one of the military blankets from their stash. Greg was thinking of that old guy Andy, and how there wasn’t much that he had forgotten when he was setting them up. He thought that if this whole thing worked out, maybe they needed to stop by and see if he was doing okay. If he was still around, it might be a good idea to find a way to get him up to the cabin where he could be safe.

  Kristy followed the directions from the box. She spun the hand crank, charging it up and waited for a light to come on. “Greg, do you think that we're going to hear anything?”

  “Hell if I know, but that cabin isn't good for anything but to sl
eep in. With all these people, I’m going to be spending as much time outdoors as possible, I think.”

  Kristy thought about it, thinking how there weren’t enough beds to go around and wondering what other issues with space and privacy were going to be coming up. “You know, I’m almost as scared to hear something as I am not to. I mean, what if there isn’t good news? What if it’s worse news?”

  “You know, it might sound dumb, but if I can hear any news I’d like to know. I feel like we are just sitting in the dark right now. I think having to sit and think and contemplate what's going on down there, especially with three of us down there, is making it even more difficult, if you know what I mean.”

  Greg flipped the power switch on the radio and a small light glowed as it came to life. Greg spun the hand crank a few more times and adjusted a few knobs in order to fine-tune the signal coming in until it showed it was going strong. He stopped moving it around when he heard the beep of the emergency broadcast channel coming across loud and clear.

  Kristy squeaked, almost knocking Greg off balance, gripping his arm. It was apparent to Greg that she was more hopeful about the thought that someone might be on the other end than she had let on. A beep came again, holding steady for a moment until a man’s voice said, “Good evening from the White House. There is an emergency message; please stay tuned to the emergency broadcast channel. We will have an announcement from the head of The Center for Disease Control shortly.”

  Greg and Kristy stared at each other, feeling more hopeful that at least there was going to be some news. They were happy to confirm that there were other humans besides themselves still alive. Kristy said, “Well, maybe this means that, you know, the entire country hasn’t been taken over.”