Apocalypse Aftermath

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Apocalypse Aftermath Page 8

by David Rogers


  “Obviously I’m not suggesting we go to Atlanta.” Harris replied. “But there are hospitals and clinics in every town in the state. We don’t even necessarily need to find one, just a doctor.”

  “And what are the chances we’ll turn up a doctor out here?” Peter asked. “Even if the phones were working, how would we go about tracking one down.”

  “I’m pretty sure just sitting here isn’t going to solve the problem.”

  “No, it’s not.” Peter agreed. “But if your wife is about to go into labor anyway, then I doubt any heroic attempts we make would succeed anyway. She’s at least a month from being due based on what you told me, so another day to rest and get ready for what comes next isn’t going to hurt.”

  Harris gazed at him steadily for several seconds, then frowned a little. “So what comes next?”

  “As we were discussing, next are supplies. Food and water, plus whatever else we can find that could be useful. Medical supplies are on that list, but so are a lot of other things.”

  “And then?”

  “Well I seriously doubt step one is going to be as simple as finding a store and just doing a little shopping.” Peter pointed out patiently. “So I’m sort of focused on that at the moment. But what we see while we’re handling that issue might help us shape step two better.”

  Harris still looked unhappy, but he put his hands in his pockets and made his tone slightly calmer. “Assuming supplies are obtained without even more hell breaking loose, what would you like to do then?”

  Peter suppressed a urge toward frustration, reminding himself again of the pressure the civilian was under. “I agree camping here might not be a good long-term plan. If we get lucky we might encounter other survivors who are holding out that could take you folks in.”

  “Dump us.”

  “No, place you in a secure environment that offers safety.”

  “Ease up Steve.” BB tried again. “You have to admit something like that would work out pretty good.”

  “You’ll forgive me if I don’t start holding my breath now.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Peter told him. “And I did say that would be lucky. What I figure is probably more likely is we might be able to pick up some news about what’s happening outside the confines of this Interstate exit. One of the things I’m hoping to get my hands on is an emergency radio, but we might be able to gather some information through word-of-mouth if we run into other survivors. Or there might be emergency notices posted that could direct us to another refugee point, one that’s still operating.”

  “I can’t think of any planned camps that are nearby.” BB said worriedly.

  “My people were able to gather a little information before we bailed out of Atlanta. If nothing else breaks our way, we have a list of FEMA sites in the region that we could start checking. But with fifty people to move it won’t be a quick process. Some of them are on the other side of Atlanta, which would mean a lot of traveling to get to them, even if we decided to leave for Griffin or Newnan right now. You might have noticed conditions are pretty hazardous.”

  Harris’ forehead wrinkled in thought for a moment, then he frowned. “Griffin or Newnan? Those are metro suburbs.”

  “Yes.”

  The man’s frown deepened. “Those don’t sound like good choices to me.”

  “I’d agree, but they’re on the list if we exhaust all other possibilities.”

  “You’d head clear around to the other side of Atlanta with everything that’s going on?”

  “If that’s what it takes.” Peter let his voice become firm, with a hint of his growing frustration creeping in at last. “If you’re looking to me to decide, then I’ll tell you they’re on the list if we get down to them.”

  “I’m looking to you for help.”

  “And that’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

  “Meeting in here with Burns in secret?”

  Peter decided he’d had enough. “You need to settle down some sir.”

  “I—” Harris began, but Peter cut him off.

  “I know all about your situation. Planning has to start somewhere, and this is where I am at the moment. I can’t hold a little committee meeting of everyone anytime something has to be decided. You might not like the answers I have for you right now, but as I’ve explained there’s a lot we don’t know, and need to find out, before we can have a chance to make a serious attempt at a realistic plan.”

  Harris was quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Alright. I understand.”

  “Good.” Peter told him. “So, for the moment, you should tend to your wife and do what you can to keep her and yourself calm and comfortable.”

  “I need to know what’s going on.”

  “We all do. If you’re prepared to listen, then I’ve got a sketch of a proposal that’ll take care of step one.”

  Harris nodded again. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Three - Home sweet home

  Jessica

  “This looks . . . interesting.”

  Jessica opened her eyes and blinked. She hadn’t been sleeping, exactly, but the slow speed and security offered by the SUV had let her allow herself to be lulled into a vague lethargy. Next to her, Candice stirred a little, but didn’t otherwise rouse herself from where she lay against Jessica’s side. Upon dropping off the trio of rescuees, Candice had decided she liked sitting up front next to Jessica better than being stuck in the backseat.

  Since there was room, Jessica had acquiesced. Shortly after they’d gotten back underway, Candice had dropped off into a nap. Jessica couldn’t blame her; Candice was only ten, hadn’t gotten much sleep during the horrific nightmare of the previous evening, and was bored. She was actually surprised it had taken this long for the girl to doze off. And she was happy Candice was able to sleep. She wasn’t entirely sure she was going to be able to sleep as soundly as her daughter was at the moment, at least not anytime soon; even though she was tired too.

  Nightmares weren’t restricted to the nighttime anymore.

  “Mr. Morris, looks like there’s some sort of checkpoint up ahead.”

  She turned her head to see Austin gripping his radio. The SUV’s speed was dropping as he waited for a response. She looked around, trying to get her bearings. The scenery was quite rural, with fields mixed in with trees that weren’t just Georgia pines now. She saw trees of the non-pine-needle variety interspersed with them around the edges of what had to be crop land of some sort. What was being grown she had no idea, but the fields on either side of the road didn’t look like random wild grass and weeds.

  Her attention focused on the road ahead, and she frowned. “Is that a police car?”

  “Looks like it.” Austin said.

  “Checkpoint?” Tyler’s voice asked from the radio.

  A number of vehicles were blocking the two lane road about half a mile ahead, but for a change it looked like they’d been deliberately parked rather than left there after a wreck or some other tragic occurrence. A pair of farm tractors and some sort of construction vehicle dominated; the tractors flanking the bulldozer or whatever it was. There were some gaps in the way they were parked that let her see some normal cars and pickups parked behind the bigger vehicles, but even counting just the tractors and bulldozer the road was completely blocked.

  They were parked between a pair of telephone poles that guarded the shoulders, eliminating any possibility of going around off road without chancing the low fall and rise of the ditches and farm fences beyond the road shoulders. Jessica wasn’t entirely sure even the SUVs, with their high ground clearances, would be able to take that chance; and she was certain the BMW carrying the Morrises couldn’t without getting stuck. A police car was centered in front of the whole arrangement, and as she studied the scene she saw its lights come on, rotating blue beacons flashing from the rectangular light bar on its roof.

  “Road’s blocked off by vehicles, and they’re parked on purpose to do it. There’s
a police car with its lights on.” Austin said into the radio.

  “Okay, let’s approach slowly and find out what’s going on.” Tyler said after a moment. “Scott, you listening?”

  “Yes sir.” the driver of the last vehicle in the convoy answered.

  “When we stop, I want you to get out – be safe about it – and tell everyone else to be ready for problems, but to stay in their vehicles and to not do anything unless there’s shooting. Then return to your vehicle.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Mr. Carter, take the lead, but I’ll join you if you don’t seem to be making any progress.”

  Austin hesitated, then nodded unconsciously. “Just be careful sir. There’s no telling what mood these people might be in.”

  “I’m sure whatever’s going on, we can negotiate through their concerns.”

  “Yes sir.” Austin said before releasing the radio. Jessica glanced at him, but his face wasn’t giving anything away. He was still letting the SUV’s speed fall off, and concentrating on the scene ahead.

  “Where are we?” Jessica asked.

  “Just outside of Knoxville.” he answered without looking at her. “Less than ten minutes from the facility.”

  Jessica looked forward, suppressing a twist of concern that rose within her. Ten minutes. So close. As they drew nearer to the roadblock, she began to be able to pick people out. Someone was in the driver’s seat of each of the three big vehicles, along with two more on the ground behind the police car. All of them had the unmistakable shapes of rifles or shotguns in their hands. One of the tractor drivers had something up to his face, which she decided after several seconds were probably binoculars or something similar.

  “Why aren’t they watching out for . . . zombies?” Jessica asked after a moment. All five appeared to be focused on the approaching line of vehicles. Things were dangerous now. Being outside was dangerous. Zombies were everywhere. Weren’t there any down here?

  “They are.” Austin said.

  “What?”

  “Up in the trees on the left, about fifteen yards up, maybe seven or eight behind the tractors.”

  Jessica lifted her gaze and scanned across the trees, frowning in concentration. It took her a lot longer than she liked, but just as she was about to open her mouth and ask for more detail, she finally spotted a figure wearing camouflaged clothing perched on a little platform attached to a tree. He was the only one in view who was ignoring the convoy as he looked down at the parked vehicles.

  “See him?”

  “Yes.” she nodded slightly.

  “And I count five bodies off in the ditch off to the right.” Austin added. He’d let the SUV’s speed drop to barely a walking pace, and was now getting his MP5 looped into position on his left side.

  Jessica found the bodies only because he’d told her where to look; they were all but hidden in the roadside weeds and unmown grass. From here she couldn’t tell if they were zombies or not. A shiver rolled up her spine as she pondered the possibility they weren’t. That they’d still been human when they were shot and left to rot on the side of the road.

  She really hoped they were zombies.

  The tension was starting to become unbearable as they drew closer. She could pick more details out. One of the men – they were all men – behind the police car wore a police uniform she didn’t recognize, but she was only familiar with the metro area police departments. She knew almost nothing about South Georgia except that it, along with the rest of the state that wasn’t within the metropolitan borders, was considerably less populated than Atlanta and its outlying suburbs.

  Austin brought the SUV to a halt just short of maybe twenty-five feet from the roadblock. A couple of the guns were starting to shift away from carry positions, but they paused when the vehicles stopped. “Remember, this thing is super tough.” he said, glancing at Jessica. She couldn’t help her wide eyes as she met his gaze, which caused him to quirk his lips in a brief expression of reassurance. “If it all drops in the pot, just turn it around and head back the way we came.”

  She nodded, feeling her heart starting to hammer again. Austin cracked open his door, waited a few seconds, then pushed it all the way open and waited several more. Nothing happened, and finally he leaned his head over to the space between the front edge of the door and its seal. “Friendly, coming out. Just want to talk.” he shouted.

  Candice started against Jessica at the shout, knocking her legs against her mother’s bandaged knee. Jessica winced as she tightened her arm around the girl, trying to still her movements before her thrashing continued. “Ow.”

  “What’s wrong?” Candice demanded, looking around wildly.

  “Nothing.” Jessica said quickly.

  “We can talk.” the policeman called back from behind his car. “But I don’t care if you’re the damn President himself, we ain’t too interested in whatever you’ve got to tell us.”

  “Who is that? What do they want?”

  “Shhh.” Jessica said as Candice straightened and looked over the dashboard at the roadblock and the men manning it. “We don’t know. Austin is going to talk to them.”

  Candice fell silent as Austin stepped from the vehicle with his arms and hands held out from his waist, showing his open palms. He stepped to the side, away from the SUV, but ready to move back inside if necessary.

  “What’s wrong in town?”

  The officer shrugged. “Nothing that’s not wrong everywhere else. You military or government?”

  “Neither. We’re with Eagle Security and Executive Protection. Our company owns property here.”

  “So?”

  “So we’re headed there to shelter with some of our other people who are already on-site.”

  “Y’all sure do look like you might be military.”

  “Would it matter if we were?” Austin replied. His voice was raised, but his tone was level and even, pitched to be reasonable.

  “No, not really. Listen, town’s closed. We’re not letting anyone in until this all blows over.”

  “What odds are you giving it’s gonna?”

  Two of the men at the roadblock laughed suddenly. The policeman turned with a scowl, which only worked on one of them. The other kept chuckling. Jessica lowered her window an inch so she could hear better. “Today, tomorrow, next year, next ten years, who fucking knows.” he called back when he faced Austin again. “Don’t matter though. We go letting outsiders come traipsing through here and we’ll go getting sick too.”

  “None of us are sick.”

  “I’m supposed to take your word on that? For that matter, I’m supposed to take your word you’re with Eagle?”

  “You can take mine.” Tyler said. Jessica glanced further to her left and saw Tyler approaching on foot. He certainly cut a less imposing figure than Austin, with his suit and leaner, shorter body lines compared to Austin’s black military gear and towering bulk.

  “Who are you?”

  “Tyler Morris.” Tyler answered. “I’m a senior executive with Eagle’s southeastern division.”

  “So you say.”

  “I have identification and business cards if you’d like to verify my statement.”

  The officer was scowling again. “Anyone can get business cards printed up.”

  The same two men on the roadblock laughed again. The policeman turned to them, and one of the laughers gestured in a broad motion as if trying to indicate where they were. Jessica grasped his meaning pretty quickly; as far as she knew and had heard, every business . . . everywhere . . . was closed.

  “We’re not here to cause any sort of trouble or problem for you or anyone else in Knoxville.” Tyler said in a calm voice, one well practiced at projecting reasonableness and inviting connection. “We just want to get to our facility so we can take shelter there.”

  “No. None of us want to get sick, and we don’t know you aren’t.” the officer said, facing them again.

  “We have a doctor with us.” Tyler said. “He has persona
lly examined everyone in our vehicles and confirmed they’re not sick.”

  That set the men on the roadblock to muttering. Jessica frowned slightly; that wasn’t entirely true. So far as she knew, Dennis had examined everyone else; but she and Candice had been ‘examined’ by Tyler’s wife, Vanessa. And it had only been a confirmation that there were no bites or other wounds that appeared to be zombie inflicted. And she knew from the news that no one had been able to identify what was causing the outbreaks.

  It was confirmed that surviving an encounter with a zombie that managed to wound you almost certainly caused the victim to become a zombie; but before everything had gone from worse to apocalyptic a considerable number of people had become zombies without any initial cause that could be identified. So how could Tyler be so sure Dennis knew they were all clean?

  She shuddered and thrust the thoughts from her head. One thing at a time. Safety, food, shelter. Take care of the important things and worry about the rest later. The policeman had traded several comments with his fellows before facing Tyler again. She was starting to get the impression the officer’s authority over the others wasn’t ironclad. “How’s he supposed to know they’re not sick?”

  “For that matter, how is you’ve got a doctor who’s still alive?” one of the others called.

  “Look, Mister . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Jones.” the man replied, tapping the badge and nameplate on his uniform shirt. “Crawford County Sheriff’s deputy.”

  “Deputy Jones, I promise you; none of us are sick. Do you think we’d be riding together if any of us were? We just want to get to our facility and stay there. If the town wants us to have no interaction, then we’ll honor that once we can take up residence at our facility.”

  “Oh, you got all you need there do you?”

  Jessica saw Austin stir a little at that. It wasn’t so much anything he did, but rather a subtle shift in how he seemed to be holding himself.

  “We’ve got supplies with us, and there are more awaiting us, yes.” Tyler replied, his voice still calm and even. “But we’ll probably do some scavenging just as I imagine you are.”

 

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