by David Rogers
Jessica glanced back. The trio had opened a gap of over a block between themselves and the leading edge of the pursuing horde, but the zombies were still following. She looked around, trying to figure something out. The landscape was much more open, another difference between Georgia and Florida.
Back in Georgia, trees were everywhere; mostly pines. There was open land, but especially along roadways, trees tended to border the pavement unless it was a settled area like a city or town. And even there, a lot of the space not occupied by pavement or specific landscaping, or buildings and their cleared yards, tended to have pine tree stands growing.
Here, there were some trees; but they ranged from the occasional pine, through a varied mix of things like scrub oaks and sometimes maples, and even a not infrequent number of palm trees. None of the palms Jessica had taken note of were the towering examples she saw in movies or on television, but palm trees they definitely were.
But here the trees were an exception, not a rule; mostly singles, and well spaced singles at that. A lot of the land was fairly open; with grass and other low lying vegetation predominant. It made for an easier view, and as she took it in, she noticed a less upscale collection of houses off to the southwest. The trio would have to cross maybe half a mile of sandy ground, but it looked like there were at least several dozen houses over there.
Austin had told her, repeatedly, the best place to find a car and its keys, would usually be a house. If the car was parked at the house, it probably had belonged to someone who lived there. Most people had multiple keys for their vehicles, if only because there were usually multiple people residing there that might need to make use of it. If the people were gone but the car was still there, there was at least a decent chance the house might hold the keys that would go to the car.
“What about over there.” Jessica said, pointing.
“Worth a shot.” Austin said immediately.
She eyed him. “You’ve been waiting for me to suggest it, haven’t you?”
“Would I do that?”
She shook her head, uninterested in teasing him very much when he was obviously having to dig some for the drive to keep going. He was tough and determined, but there was always a limit. Nothing said flesh could keep going even when will demanded it. “Watch yourselves going through the ditch.”
“It should slow the horde down some.” Austin said, changing course to angle off-road.
“Let’s hope.”
“Ten bucks says we at least double our lead before a decent line of them make it off the road to keep coming.”
“No bet.” Jessica snorted.
“Chicken.”
“I don’t have ten bucks.” she pointed out. She’d been suburban through and through; living her life via cards. She still had the cards, in her wallet tucked away in her purse, but they were useless. Though, to be fair, the money – if she’d had any cash – was equally useless now.
“And we don’t bet with you.” Candice chimed in. She was starting to look and sound calmer, as the trio continued to outpace the zombies and gained some separation from the hordes. “You’re too good at betting games. That’s why we usually play rummy or Nah-Ah.”
“I’d laugh if I wasn’t trying so hard to breathe.” Austin said, though he did flash a smile that held most of his usual good cheer. “But you’re both still chicken.”
“Less name calling, more breathing.” Jessica said as she went down the front side of the ditch. The bottom was sandy but gave good footing. She climbed up the far side and turned in case Austin needed a hand. He didn’t; his height and long legs gave him an advantage even though he was moving gingerly.
Sure enough, they did double their lead over the zombies by cutting cross-country. Jessica ignored her growing thirst as the exertion and sun raised a good sweat; anything was better than getting eaten. As they neared the new neighborhood, she recognized it as definitely a lower income one. The houses were back to single story, and there was little sign of any carefully cultivated landscaping or grounds keeping. Some were clearly in need of fresh paint and basic maintenance.
But out of the first half dozen houses she could see, three had cars parked in their driveways. That offered hope. She glanced behind at the zombie pack, then eyed the houses ahead again. She saw only a small handful of milling figures that might be zombies; but nothing that was going to block her off from getting into any of the houses.
“Candice, stay with Austin.” she said as she decided.
“What? Why?” the girl asked, her voice rising in alarm.
“Stay with Austin. I’m going ahead to start checking for a car we can use.”
“But—” Candice began, then stopped herself. “Be careful Mom.” she said, her voice obviously under tremendous control.
Jessica smiled her best reassuring smile; they weren’t out the woods yet, and the girl obviously knew it. “Always.”
Jessica broke into a jog, pulling away from Austin and her daughter. She angled directly for the closest house that had a vehicle out front, heading right for the glass doors on the back patio. She was concerned about Austin, but she also trusted him. If he couldn’t keep going, he’d figure something out. Candice was safe with him.
As Jessica neared the house, she noticed a line running from one corner out to a stake planted a good ways from the structure. Then she saw the bodies close to it; each laying crumpled up and still leashed to the runner cord. The dogs had suffered a lot of damage from zombies that had clearly caught them, but even after that and the intervening decomposition, the bodies were still recognizable. She averted her eyes as best she could, and hoped Candice focused on surviving rather than what had happened to the pets.
Pausing only to collect a good sized rock before she entered the yard, Jessica used it to break the glass on one of the back doors by throwing it from the edge of the patio. Most of the glass fell out in a shattering tinkle of fragments, but she had to use the barrel of the Shield to poke a few stubborn ones free so they fell clear before she could enter.
The house had the same musty smell she’d grown accustomed to; no one had been in it for a long time. Jessica didn’t bother to clear the house, though she kept her pistol in hand as she ransacked the living room very quickly looking for a rack or a bowl or something that might hold keys.
She didn’t turn anything up, but as she went to leave, she noticed a case of cheap generic bottled sodas on the linoleum next to the kitchen counters. Bending down, she picked the whole thing up and carried it outside with her. At the edge of the yard, she set it down and waved at Austin and Candice to get their attention, then pointed at it. Austin gave her a raised thumbs-up in return. She nodded back exaggeratedly, then knelt and tore two bottles out of the plastic rings holding them in place.
One she stuffed into her back pocket, the other she held away from herself and twisted open. The soda foamed up immediately, but she just let the cascade dribble away until it subsided so she could start downing it. The sugary liquid was warm and really not very pleasant, but it was liquid. She gulped at what was left of the bottle greedily, then dropped it as she jogged for the next house. The drink gave her hope that things were starting to look up.
She didn’t spot another rock as she walked; but the house had some tube framed lawn chairs placed around an umbrella-stand table that had seen better days about a decade earlier. Now the set was just pathetic; weathered, dirty, chipped, and in desperate need of replacing. But one of the chairs served to let her break through the glass back door just as well as a rock would’ve.
Entering, she found the living room held a shock – the long dead body of a woman who’d been shot twice in the head, judging by the dried and crusty gore splattered on the wall and floor around her – but there was a little wire rack next to the front door that had two sets of keys hanging from it. Keys! Jessica dropped the chair and had to remind herself to be careful.
She double checked that the body was really twice dead, and not just an unobservant or tired
zombie. It didn’t move, and the rest of the room was empty of anything humanoid shaped or hungry. Well, except her. She was hungry, but that was a problem for later. Right now, she was only concerned with the keys. Holding the Taurus at the ready, she darted across the room and grabbed the keys before retracing her steps toward back door.
Outside, she took a wide berth around the house. She had drawn some zombie attention with her glass breaking, but she had most of a minute before any got near enough to her to cause problems. A car was also out front, which hopefully she now had the keys to. It was a battered little Toyota with rust streaks and paint that had not fared any better under the Florida sun than the picnic table out back; but one of the rings had a key that fit the door lock.
Dropping into the driver’s seat, Jessica closed the door and then briefly closed her eyes as she fit the ignition key into place. “Please God, please oh please oh please.” she prayed before twisting the key. The engine made a sort of chugging sound, then a longer one, then finally started turning over. Jessica held her breath as the starter worked, looking over her shoulder to check on the zombies. She still had time. The engine kept cranking. Then, with a surge that spiked through her like a breath of icy artic air, the engine caught and whined to life.
“Thank you.” she said, looking skyward feelingly. The engine was idling a little roughly, and she heard a faint pinging that told of some sort of fuel problem, but she’d worry about any of that later. Right now, it was running. “Please, please, keep running.” she thought. “Come on, give us this break. Just this break and we’ll have a shot.” Shifting into reverse, she twisted and looked over her shoulder again. There were a few zombies getting somewhat close. All three were out in the street.
Stepping on the accelerator, Jessica backed rapidly out of the driveway and right into the first two. They were lined up neatly enough for her to hit one after the other, and they went down without anything more than a few thumps and bumps as the bumper, then wheels, drove over them. She went several car lengths past the third one before stopping and putting the transmission into drive and running that one down too. It stuck to the hood for a few moments before falling beneath the wheels. The car rocked as she drove over it, but other than the body swaying back and forth some, the car held up under the ramming just fine. She parked in the driveway again and looked around quickly. Now she had a much bigger zombie-free space to work with.
Lowering the window – using a manual handle that she hadn’t seen in a vehicle in quite a while – she set the brake and left the car running with the transmission in park before getting out. Jessica was almost around to the back yard between the houses before she spotted Austin and Candice coming toward her. Austin had the cardboard flat of sodas propped up on his right shoulder – his good side – and was starting to visibly limp a little.
But he kept coming. The set expression on the big man’s face told her he was in pain, but she could tell it was under control by how he kept moving and didn’t falter. He didn’t say anything as he went past her toward the Toyota. Candice, however, threw her hands up like she was signaling a touchdown. “Mom! You found a car!”
“I did. Get in sweetie.” Jessica said, looking around again.
“Yay!” the girl cheered. She had soda dripping from her chin, and more spilled across her shirt, but Jessica didn’t care. What mattered was Candice was safe. Watered, somewhat sticky, in need of a meal and a shower; but safe.
Austin eased himself into the passenger side as Candice piled into the back seat excitedly. Jessica got in and took the drinks from Austin, half throwing them into the back seat next to Candice. Then she got the car moving again; following the streets toward the main road that was visible between the houses in the rundown little neighborhood. She wove around zombies at need, twice changed routes for one that was less hungry, then headed west when she made the six lane expanse that was obviously a major artery for the Ocala outskirts.
“Now what?” Austin asked tightly as he shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position as he pushed it back to the stops. He was much bigger than the car was really designed for. He was clearly willing to make do though, however much he filled the space and had to hunch his head to fit in beneath the cramped roof level.
“Two options, possibly with some room to modify them a little if we want.” Jessica said as the reality that they might be okay began to settle in. She glanced at the dashboard. The fuel gauge showed about two-thirds of tank.
“Hit me.”
“Option one, we scavenge up some basic supplies like gas cans and water and stuff and head south.”
“And the other one?”
“We find a better vehicle, something big enough to carry more than just us, and see if we can get back to the SUV and grab all the stuff we already found.” Jessica said. “Then we head south.”
“Do we have to decide now?” Austin asked.
She glanced over at him. He was holding his left side and controlling his breathing in an attempt to keep from alarming her or Candice, but he was hurting. She eyed him as critically as she knew how. His color was good, so if he’d started bleeding somewhere, it wasn’t too bad. His breath was slightly labored, but already easing as he was able to rest his injuries. Tough guy or not, however bad she felt for him, she’d seen him worse.
But if he wanted, needed, a break . . . that was fair. More than fair. “Hell, I need a break.” she thought tiredly.
“No, we can take some time.” she said aloud. “Maybe we can look around and find a quiet spot, and catch our breath.”
“Maybe find something to eat?” Candice asked hopefully.
Jessica smiled, trying to keep the moment light and funny rather than desperate. “Some food would help, definitely. We’ll keep going east, try to get away from the heavier zombie concentrations, and see what turns up.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Austin nodded.
“Why don’t you take something?” Jessica asked him. She knew he had some first aid stuff in one of his pouches or pockets; and that there were some pain pills in it. She knew because she’d given him the pills; from a big family sized bottle she’d pulled out of a bathroom cabinet six weeks ago. They were only acetaminophen, to be fair, but they would probably help.
“It’s not that bad.”
“Bad enough.” she disagreed.
“The pain lets me know what’s going on.”
“And it slows you down.” she said. “Anything really bad is still going to get through the pills. A couple might take the edge off though.”
“Is that an order?”
She blinked at him, then smiled hesitantly. “If it needs to be, then yeah. Pop some painkillers and take a breather soldier. We’re not all the way out of the woods just yet.”
Chapter Nine – Pit Stop
“This looks like it might be promising.”
“Only one way to find out.” Austin said.
“You feeling better?” Jessica asked him. He’d drunk three of the sodas and taken some pills, and sounded better, but she was still worried about him. Sugar, caffeine, and pain killers only went so far. But he lifted the MP5 with sure movements when she glanced at him.
“I’m fine.”
Hiding her frown, Jessica returned her gaze back outside the car and looked over the little garage again. It looked intact and closed up tight; not even the windows were broken out. Neither did she see any sign of damage on the doors or walls to indicate anyone – anything – had been beating on it.
The structure wasn’t very large, even though the roll-up door fronting the garage portion was a double wide. There were two bays, and both were occupied with vehicles. There was also a battered, old Ford truck and a well-worn Buick four-door parked out front of it that were similarly unmolested.
“Alright, let’s circle it once and see if anything happens.” she decided. “If not, we’ll get out and have a longer look.”
“Good call.” Austin nodded, rolling his window all the way down and layi
ng the stubby little submachine gun across the sill. Jessica drove into the lot and slowly around the side, then the back, of the garage. It was just off SR-40, west of Ocala. According to the map in Austin’s pocket, the only things of note in this direction away from Ocala were a couple of fairly small towns to the north and south west; but due west was nothing but rural Florida, some sort of state park, and then along the coast another one.
She supposed she and Candice and Austin were probably still in the Ocala zip codes, but they’d driven far enough west to leave the zombie infested city behind. The garage was free-standing and spaced a couple hundred feet from anything else along the road; but there were other buildings in view. Just north was a small and fairly uncrowded looking subdivision of single story houses, and a little further west other buildings with tall commercial signs promised other businesses.
The garage was apparently on the outskirts of whatever little piece of civilization they’d come to, and Jessica was happy to stay distant. She just wanted a spot to rest up for a little while, and where they could find a better car than the beat up little Toyota. Preferably something larger, since she knew what she wanted to do after they caught their breath.
Circling around the far side of the garage, Jessica slowed and stopped as she reached the front again. Aside from wind rippled overgrown grass and weeds beyond the paved lot, nothing seemed to be moving. Nothing pressed itself against the windows, watching them with dead hungry eyes. Neither did anything appear from elsewhere, lurching toward them with outstretched arms.
“Looks quiet.” Austin said.
“Let’s hope it is.” she nodded, putting the car in park and setting the brake. Turning, she looked at her daughter. “Okay Candice, you stay right with me, alright?”
“I’m not staying in the car?” the girl asked, wearing an expression of surprise.
“No.” Jessica shook her head. The SUV had been a safe place for Candice to stay, with its heavily armored construction and dark windows that could stop bullets and withstand pounding hands; but the little Toyota was no more than a speed bump for any zombie who wandered up. Jessica had no illusions about glass holding one off, and any average sized adult who was now pulseless and hungry could reach past the midline of the car from outside.
