Dark Days (Book 1): Contagion

by Dyer, Marcy G.

  Josh came upon a gas station and started laughing.

  "What's so funny?"

  He turned to find Mark behind him. "I was hoping to find a working station to top off the Charger when I pulled into this town."

  "We just filled up." Mark frowned. "Back there where Sierra—"

  "I know, but I'd planned to put gas in at every town." He motioned to the area around them. "Because I didn't want to us to get stranded on foot."

  Mark let out a hysterical half-laugh and half-cry. "We're going to die in this place, and no one will even find our bleached bones.”

  "Time to get over the pity party." Josh walked toward the station. "Let's see if this place is safe, so we'll have somewhere to stay for the night if we don't find transportation."

  He reached the door of the square, squat building, slipped his weapon from his holster and uttered a quiet prayer of thanks the muggers hadn't stolen it. He stepped inside. A stark room with only a few bottles and packages left on the floor. The shelving units and coolers were empty, but there weren't any infected in it. He checked the bathrooms and storage rooms, and walked outside.

  "It's clear inside." He slipped his arm around Mark's shoulder. "Come on." Once he was safe, Josh would hunt for a vehicle.

  Mark found a couple of chairs behind the cash register. "What are we going to do now?"

  "You're going to stay here, while I find transportation out of this godforsaken place."

  "No!" Mark jumped up. "I don't want to stay in here alone. We should hunt together."

  "Please. I won't be long. If I don't find something soon, I'll come back, but I can't think clearly and try to protect you at the same time. This building's empty, and the doors are secure." He picked up a key near the register. "Try this in the front door. If it works, lock it behind me, and don't open it for anyone. The store looks deserted so if you hear people, hide in the back room or lie down behind the counter."

  Mark tried the key and it worked.

  "Good. Stay out of sight until I return." Josh slipped out the door and started walking. Time to find a residential street and start car shopping.

  Chapter Nine

  Randi paced from guard tower to guard tower. Dry, brittle grass and trees, but nothing else stretched through the compound. As she came to the fourth one, Miguel and Leon waited for her.

  "We're going to take turns with you." Miguel had a notebook and a pen in his hand. "It doesn't matter if the rest of the family gets this or not. We understand."

  Leon stuck his hands in his pockets. "In fact, I've thought about taking Adriana on a run to see how insane the world is now, but I doubt I could keep her alive long enough for her to understand. You know how she is."

  "At least you two get it and don't think I'm a drama queen." Randi tucked a strand of her short hair behind her ear. "How do y'all want to do this?"

  "We could rotate off every twelve hours." Miguel handed her his notebook. "This is the schedule I've worked out. We're gonna get exhausted doing it with no end in sight, but I don't know how else to keep the family safe."

  "That'll work." She hugged her brother. "I'll take the first shift. Y'all rest."

  As Leon and Miguel disappeared down the stairs, a sound behind her made her spin around with her .45 in hand. The barrel pointed at her father's chest. Randi dropped her hand immediately. "Sorry, Dad. You startled me."

  "What if it had been one of the children?" Her father sighed and shook his head. "Don't you think you are going overboard here?"

  "How do I make you understand?" She bit back a scathing reply. "If we don't keep watch, we could wake up with infecteds everywhere."

  "They're people, mija. Sick people."

  "Would you agree a paranoid schizophrenic is ill?"

  "Of course." Her father frowned. "What are you getting at?"

  "If a paranoid schizophrenic broke into your house intent on killing Mom because he thought she was telepathically controlling his thoughts, would you stop him? At any cost?"

  "Of course. Your mother's precious to me."

  "These people who are infected with the rabies virus are no different than the schizophrenic who wants to kill Mom. They no longer see us as people. As human beings. We are food. Period. Their brains don't work well enough for them to understand what they're doing. These people are dying, but shoot, Dad, I will not allow them to turn my loved ones into flesh-eating, killing machines."

  He lowered his face into his hands. "I don't want you, Miguel, or Leon to ever have to live with killing someone, though." Her father closed his eyes for a few seconds and pain flitted across his expression. "It's not easy. Their faces will haunt you day and night. They crawl inside your brain and take up residence there."

  "Too late. I wasn't a clerk in the Marines. That's what I told you and Mom, so you wouldn't worry. But I was in a full combat regimen."

  Her father stared at his hands. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. That's not what I wanted for you."

  "Life doesn't always give us what we want." She grimaced. "If it did, then I'd still be out building homes and offices."

  Dad stood and ruffled her hair. "I love you, mija. Does Miguel have the watch schedule?"

  She nodded.

  "I'll find him and have him add me to the duty roster."

  Randi clenched her jaw until it ached. She'd never shared with any of her family the things she'd faced in the war. They didn't need to hear the details of her personal torture. Her father was right. Every time she closed her eyes vivid images burned into her retinas flashed back. Her counselor had called it PTSD. Dad should understand the syndrome even if he'd only received counseling while serving his prison sentence. What they faced now, might eclipse the level of PTSD she'd experienced in the war.

  She could hardly remember Aaron's face, but the metallic tang of his blood that covered her face and hands—she'd never forget that.

  Why didn't she remember his face, when the faces of those she'd killed haunted her dreams? The teenage girl. She wore a scarf over her black hair, and her dark eyes shone with purpose. That purpose was to kill as many as she could with her vest bomb. She pulled her wrap aside and Randi saw it. One chance to save hundreds, but she couldn't save the girl.

  Cold dampness to match the coldness in her heart seeped into Randi's bones from the concrete, so she hauled herself up. It had been a while since she'd made rounds. She made a circle checking every side of the compound, and then when she reached the front left guard tower, she climbed on the stool and watched for a while.

  Dusk fell over the countryside creating an orangish glow on the horizon almost blocked by the trees, and the temperature dropped. If they hadn't found the fire pits, the kids would've been miserable. Even more miserable. At least they were young enough to adapt to the changing world, but her mother and sister might never learn to cope with this insanity. Although, they would focus on their religion and cling to its empty promises. For years, her parents tried to get her to join their church, but she'd resisted. Now she was glad she had. God wasn't the loving benevolent Being her parents thought He was, if He existed.

  She pushed off from the stool and retrieved a pair of night vision goggles. The deepening twilight made it impossible to see far enough for her liking. Something moved in the distance. She focused on the form for several minutes. Human or animal? Her breath caught in the throat. It continued to move toward the camp as her heart rate soared higher. They needed night scopes for the rifles. The movement drew closer, and she made out the antlers. He raised his head for a few seconds, stared toward the camp, and then the buck bolted in the other direction. Voices from below must've scared him off.

  A blast of cold air slammed into her as she opened the door. Chill bumps popped out on her arms. If it got much colder, they might have to rethink breaking into Barker's house. Of course, her father wouldn't agree even if the kids had icicles hanging from their noses. Randi walked the rest of the way with the goggles in place. Thankfully, Barker had the foresight to have the walkway between the
guard stands open so she could see out into the fields.

  The giggles of Adriana's children reached her ears and brought a smile to her face. An ache spread through her chest. She didn't know anything about her niece and nephew. Was it too late to change? Probably. She'd never been close to her sister, and as a result, she hadn't been close to Tommy and Lori. Adriana always said she didn't want her babies to grow into drama queens like their aunt, so she'd kept them away except at holidays.

  *****

  Josh searched several empty houses, but he found no signs of a car. At one home, he saw movement behind the curtains, but no one answered his knock. Instead of risking a zombie, he moved on the next house, a large southwestern-style stucco home. He rapped on the door. No one answered. He twisted the knob. Locked. Leaded glass sidelights were on either side of the door. It galled him to think of breaking into a home, but he had to find shelter and transportation or they were dead.

  He slammed his elbow into one of the sidelights. It cracked but didn't shatter. He slammed his elbow into it again and suppressed the urge to scream at the window. It shattered after three good blows. "This would've been much easier with a tire iron." He yanked off his jacket, wrapped it around his arm, and cleared enough glass to reach in and unlock the front door.

  Breathe. He'd been holding his breath without realizing it, so he took a deep breath, stepped inside, and searched the living room. Empty, but even better, no sign of zombies. He walked through the living room with his weapon in hand. Clear. He walked into the dining room. His heart thudded in his ears and sweat beaded on his upper lip in spite of the cool temperatures.

  The dining room and kitchen were clear. He moved from the kitchen to the master bedroom. He stilled his breathing at the door and listened. No sounds came from the room. A good sign. He gripped his gun tighter and stepped through the doorway. Empty. His heart rated slowed a little, but he still had to clear the master bath and the rest of the bedrooms, but so far no problems.

  How many rooms did the house have? He searched the bedrooms, found clothes draped half out of the drawers, and hangers scattered across the floor. Back in the kitchen, he opened drawers and cabinets. The pantry was well stocked, and the cabinets had plenty of food. At least they didn't need to look for a grocery store and risk getting caught after dark.

  He tugged open the last drawer and found a set of car keys. Maybe whoever had abandoned this place had left their car. Nope. The garage was empty. A long, low sigh pushed to the surface. He just knew he'd find a car when he found the keys.

  If he didn't find transportation soon, he'd be stuck outdoors after dark. He searched houses up and down the block with no luck. The next block had a large three story home. A house that size might have a car. He knocked on the door, but no one answered. The door was locked, and there weren't any windows. He walked to the back yard, tried the kitchen door, and the knob turned. He pushed it open and stepped into the house.

  A groaning noise reached him. Where was it coming from? He flipped on the kitchen lights and opened the pantry and laundry room doors. Before he went any further, he opened the garage door. A Porsche 911 with dealer tags sat in a third-car tandem slot. Yeah buddy. What a blast to drive. Now, if he could find the keys. Hair lifted on the nape of his neck, and sweat snaked down his spine as he stepped into the living room. Also empty. He could get overrun too easily in a house this size.

  Where were the blasted keys? He went into the downstairs master bedroom after he checked the living room and den. The groaning grew louder. He flipped on the overhead light. "Hello?" No answer. Josh walked further into the room but kept his weapon ready. The bedroom was empty. He stepped into the master bath and tugged open the closet door.

  A man lunged at him. "You ain't bitin' me!"

  "Whoa. I'm not a zombie." Josh quick-stepped backwards. "I was just checking the house."

  "What fer?" The guy had white hair sticking out all over making him look like a deranged Albert Einstein.

  Josh decided to go with honesty. "I need transportation. My car was stolen."

  "Yeah, well this place is mine. I found it, and I ain't leavin'."

  "Is it okay if I take the car in the garage?"

  "I ain't got no use fer it. That blasted thing's standard shift."

  "Do you have the keys?"

  The man shrugged. "T'weren't my place. Before. It is now, though. You try and take it, and I'll kill ya."

  Josh held his hands up in a surrendering motion. "I don't want the house. Just the car."

  "Then get ta lookin'. I don't know where them keys are."

  Josh gritted his teeth and opened a dresser drawer, but the man's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

  "Ya ain't gonna take nuthin' but the keys, right?"

  "Right." Josh dug through dresser but came up empty. The sun dipped low in the sky. If he didn't find them soon, he'd be walking back to the gas station in the dark.

  "Good. When we find them keys, you and me's gonna talk about the price fer the car."

  Great. At this rate, he'd never get back to his brother. "If I'm going to pay you for the car, then help me find the stinking keys."

  The man nodded and shuffled into the bathroom while Josh dug through all of the drawers in the dresser and the chest of drawers. Nothing. Where would they keep them? Josh went to the garage to check the car. Maybe the owners left them in it. He tugged on the driver's side door handle, but it didn't budge. After trying the passenger door without luck, he returned to the house. He searched through all of the drawers in the kitchen. There weren't any hooks on the wall. He slammed his hand on the counter. This was taking too long.

  "Whooeee! I found them keys you was lookin' fer." The old man shuffled into the room. "Now, we need be discussin' what I get in return."

  "What do you want?"

  "A gun."

  "I can't."

  "Then I guess you ain't gettin' a car."

  "Come on, man. You're inside a house. Safe." Josh ran his hand over his face. "I've got a kid brother to protect."

  Grandpa dangled the Porsche key from his finger. "You want a key. I want a gun. Decide if'n the car's worth yer gun."

  "Have you searched the house for weapons? Maybe we could find you one here."

  "I ain't been upstairs. Not sure if'n them creatures is up there."

  Josh clenched his fists. "I'll go see what I can find."

  "Not without me, you ain't."

  "Okay, let's go." Josh led the way upstairs. The groaning he'd heard earlier grew louder. He glanced behind him, but the old guy wasn't making any noise other than heavy breathing.

  "Outta my way, slowpoke."

  "Wait, don't you hear that moaning?" Josh jogged to keep up with him. "Stop. There's an infected person up here."

  The man yanked open the door before Josh could stop him. An infected knocked him to the ground and bit into him as Josh fired at the infected. The old man's breathing came in gurgling gasps as he died. Josh snatched the keys from his hand and ran to the garage.

  The door slid open when he hit the button. How much longer before the electric grids collapsed? It couldn't last more than a few more days. A week tops. Not with the crumbling infrastructure. He punched the start button and the car roared to life. Gas tank was almost empty. He prayed the station still had fuel as he backed out and zoomed down the road.

  Night had covered the town in darkness. Good thing Mark didn't have a gun or he might shoot him. Josh knocked. "Mark, it's me. Open up, man." Several long seconds passed with no response. "Mark!" He yelled and pounded on the door. "Open up! I've got safe place for us and a car. Come on, man."

  "Hold your drawers." Mark twisted the lock and opened the door. "Anyone ever tell you, you have the patience of a hummingbird on crack?"

  "Sorry." He shrugged. "I was afraid something had happened."

  "I was in the john." His brother frowned. "I see you found us a fun car. Do I get to drive, now?"

  "It's standard shift."

  "Shoot. Let's go
."

  "First, we need to fill the tank and sleep in real beds." Josh patted his brother on the shoulder. "Come on."

  "Wait." Mark disappeared into the store and came out with a large box. "I've got two more of these. I found a couple of bottles of water and a few canned goods in the back room that hadn't been raided."

  Josh popped the trunk, and they loaded the boxes. "I don't suppose you know how to turn on the pumps, do you?"

  Mark shook his head. "How hard could it be? Give me a second."

  Thirty minutes later, they had a full tank of gas and headed to the first house Josh had found.

  "We need to be cautious. It's possible the people left for a while, and if they return, they may want to kick our rears for squatting." He shrugged. "And breaking their fancy side-light."

  "Wonder if they still have running water?"

  "I don’t know, but if they do, I'm taking a shower."

  Josh raided the cabinets and squeezed the nonperishables into the Porsche. He opened the freezer and found several TV dinners. Since they still had electricity, they could nuke them. He gathered up four of the dinners and took them inside. Mark strolled into the kitchen wearing a towel. "Man did that shower feel good."

  "I'm headed there now." He pointed to the counter. "I left a few frozen dinners there, and there're more in the freezer. I'll be back after I shower. Maybe we can find clothes that'll fit."

  Josh let the hot water run over his back. As the infrastructure broke down, showers would become a thing of the past. They weren't far from their destination. How much longer would it take them to get there? He rummaged around the closet once he showered and found a pair of men's jeans that hung loose, but fit well enough. He grabbed several and some shirts.

  Mark looked up from the magazine he was flipping through as Josh walked into the kitchen. "I stuck an enchilada dinner in for you."

  "Thanks. I found us clothes. They may or may not fit as well as we'd like, but it's better than wearing the same things again."

  "There's a washer and dryer in there." Mark pointed to the laundry room. "Let's wash ours. At least we'll have those."