THE TRASHMAN

by Terry McDonald

  I didn’t know what to say. There was no way to put a good face to the predicament we were in. I didn’t say anything. I kept my eyes on the road and listened to her crying beside me. Finally, I knew I had to do something. I saw an abandoned shed at the edge of a pasture and pulled onto the rutted graveled drive that led to it. The drive ended, but I plowed the Durango through the tall weeds surrounding it and parked in back, out of sight from the road.

  I turned off the engine and leaned over to pull Becky’s hands away from her face. She gazed at me with a lost look. Her eyes were reddened from crying.

  “What are we doing?”

  “I’m hungry and this looks like a good place to have a picnic.” I turned to speak to Jen and Will. “How about it, you all ready for a picnic?”

  “I’m starving,” Will said.

  “I am too. Hon, you have two starving kids and a hungry husband. Let’s have a good old fashioned picnic.”

  Motherhood is a strong force. Mentioning the children’s hunger helped Becky to gather herself. She took a deep breath and spoke. She even made an attempt at humor.

  “We may as well have a picnic seeing as how all the fast food joints are on strike. Can we use the propane stove to make a hot meal?”

  “A hot meal sounds great. How about heating one of the canned hams?”

  “Can we have mac and cheese,” Jen asked.

  The shed had a small window in the front facing the road. I asked Will to act as lookout while I helped Becky prepare our meal. It took us several minutes to rummage through the supplies in the cargo space of the Dodge.

  Becky handed me the propane camp stove. “I put the propane tanks in a box that’s buried in here somewhere. We may as well take everything out and repack so we can find stuff. We left in such a hurry we just threw everything in.

  “I’m sorry I freaked out. I probably scared the hell out of the kids, talking about killing and dying. I won’t let that happen again.”

  I reached in to grab a couple bags from the space. “I’m on the verge of freaking out myself. You’re right about the kids. We need to watch what we say in front of them. Not completely, though. They need to realize there’s danger.

  “Hon, we’re in a desperate situation. Society has always been filled with people who behaved in a civilized manner only because of our laws. The rule of law is gone. Now any stranger we meet could be a danger to us.

  “We’re ill prepared for survival. We have no training, no skills to cope with anarchy. Think of all the military and ex-military types that may have survived. Highly trained killers, some of them gun-happy, shell shocked nut cases. We wouldn’t stand a chance against even one of them. I expect gangs and groups are forming, some for survival and mutual protection, and others for mayhem and plunder.”

  Becky set a box beside the growing pile of our hastily packed supplies. “What should we do? Should we still try to make it to a cabin in the mountains or should we find a place closer?”

  “I’ve given that some thought. I don’t like traveling in the Dodge, we’re too exposed, but walking a long distance with two young children would be worse. Besides the fact it’s still February and we’re due for a lot more cold weather, Will and Jen, especially Jen, will slow us down and actually, we’ll be more exposed, more in danger of meeting up with people. At least with the Durango we have the ability to escape faster.”

  “I agree walking is out of the question,” Becky said, “but what about just finding a place around here?

  “Even though it’s rural farm land, it will still be more populated than a wilderness area. Another thing is the hunting and fishing will be better… and safer in the mountains. Think about all the chances of pollution in the rivers and streams. With no one to maintain them, dams will fail. Like Jessica said, nuclear power plants could be in meltdown. Rain will wash the radiation into waterways. I would rather take a chance on mountain lakes and creeks.”

  I set the last bag on the ground and straightened. “I’ll take the utensils and stove in. Round up the food while I clear an area for our picnic.”

  The floor of the shed was poured concrete. The broom I found was worn to the nub but I swept an area so we could sit in a relatively clean space. As I finished, Will shouted he saw a car coming. I called for Becky and then lifted him away from the small window and peered out.

  The shed was on a straight stretch of the highway, and the car was a half mile or more away, approaching from the north. Becky joined me at the window and I moved to give her room.

  “Why’s it coming so slowly?” She asked.

  She was right. The car, a white one, seemed to be doing less than ten-miles per hour.

  “I don’t know.”

  Eventually the car rolled past the graveled drive to our shed. Sitting in the driver’s seat was a young boy, no older than twelve or thirteen. Even from a distance, we could see him coughing and spitting out the window of the car. We watched until he went from sight around a bend.

  Becky said, “He has the plague. I wonder where he’s going.”

  “Who knows? It does tell us that the plague is still active. Let’s have our meal and get back on the road. The sooner we find a remote cabin the better I’ll feel.” I left the window and sent Will back to watch.

  “You did a good job, son. That one drove past.”

  We ate our meal sitting on towels to shield our butts from the cold concrete floor. There’s something about eating a warm meal. It restores confidence that all is well in the world. My family close to me, well and healthy, warmed me, too. While we ate, I initiated a game of I-spy. Oddly, Becky was a sucker for the game. In no time at all, she was smiling and having a good time.

  *****

  We repacked the cargo space, handing the items to Becky so she could arrange them. We left the shed. According to our map, the town of Ashburn was less than three miles farther on.

  Ashburn, still too small a town to warrant a Walmart or other big-box store, was much bigger than Sycamore. At the leading edge of the city there was a small strip mall featuring a dollar store. I turned into the parking lot and cruised by the storefronts. Most had the glass broken from the doors. Oddly, the bargain store door remained closed and intact. I mentioned that to Becky and she suggested we should investigate. I circled back and parked in front of the entrance.

  Becky joined me on the walk. We had our pistols in hand as we went to peer into the store. There, in plain sight, was the reason why no one had broken in to loot the merchandise still displayed neatly on the shelves.

  Lying near the entrance to the store was the body of a woman, her features so swollen and covered with pustules that if not for the clothing, her gender would not have been guessable. Her head was on its side and blood had pooled where it leaked from her mouth.

  Becky’s shoulder was touching mine and I felt a shudder run through her.

  Walking back to the Dodge a thought struck me and I reached for her arm. “Hold up a minute. Did you see the blood in front of her face?”

  “Jeez, Ralph. Yeah, I saw it.”

  “Bright red blood, like she just died. Look at the other stores. Any with usable supplies has been broken into. The only ones not plundered are the beauty parlor, the nail salon, and the computer repair shop.”

  It dawned on her where I was leading. “If she only recently died…”

  “Why wasn’t the store looted?” I completed, turning back to the store, still holding her arm. “Let’s take a better look.”

  Once more, we were peering through the door glass.

  “The blood sure is bright red,” Becky said.

  “Too bright. Puddles might stay red for a while, but look at the edges of the blood. It’s just a bright as the rest and it should have begun to darken. Another thing, look close at the face. Do some of the boils seem like the edges are lifting?”

  “They are,” she responded. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “If you’re thinking we’re looking at a manikin made to look lik
e a plague victim. Here’s what I think. The manager or owner saw the writing on the wall and planted this to scare looters and scavengers.”

  “Well, if that’s truly a dummy, it worked.”

  “Honey, we’ve stumbled onto a gold mine of supplies. Look at all the canned food and dry goods. There’s enough food in there to last us months.”

  She pressed closer to the glass. “Other stuff, too. Paper goods, bug sprays, detergents. I can see shelves of bottled water.”

  “I don’t want to disturb the door. Let’s drive to the back of the store and find a way in. I’ll wear a mask and check the body to be sure it’s a dummy. If it is, I say we find a bigger truck, a box-truck like a U-Haul.”

  Becky said, “I’d bet the store has a local phone directory. We can look for what we need and not drive randomly around.”

  The rear of the bargain store had a raised loading dock. The steel door presented a challenge. Becky waited with the children while I snuck on foot to the hardware store at the end of the strip.

  The door glass of the hardware store had been smashed out. There weren’t any signs of mass looting except behind the counter. The proprietor sold ammunition and all the shelves that held it were empty. I reckon hardware supplies weren’t big demand items for post apocalypse scavengers. I found a hefty pry-bar and went back to the rear of the mall.

  After jamming the bar between the jamb and door, right above the lock, with Becky’s help pushing the bar, the door popped open.

  Becky tied on a surgical mask to cover my mouth and face. “This is the last one from the pack. We need to get more.”

  “Damn, I should have picked up some masks at the hardware. I’m going in to take a quick look. I’ll try not to breath close to the body. If it’s real we’ll keep on driving.”

  Up close, without the glass and the distance distorting the view it was easy to see that the body was plastic. I returned to the door.

  “It’s what we thought. Even close, it almost looks real. Let’s get inside. Honey, have you heard anything while you’ve been waiting, cars, people? Anything human?”

  “Nope, nothing.”

  “Kids?”

  They shook their heads.

  We did a quick survey of the store. Even though the space was dimly lit by the light coming through the front windows, it was obvious we’d found a mother-load of supplies. Becky went to the service counter and rummaged behind it.

  “Viola!” She stood and opened a thin booklet and laid it on the counter. The light at the front of the store was much brighter. She flipped pages. “Ashburn has a U-Haul rental. It gives the address.”

  “Bring the book with you even though it’s useless without a map.”

  She flipped through the book again.

  “Ha. City map on the inside cover. Let’s get us a truck.”

  The U-Haul facility was on the west side of town on a road that led toward I-75. I warned Becky and the kids that in a town this size there were bound to be some survivors and to keep a close watch while we traveled. We didn’t see anyone on the drive over, but Will spotted smoke coming from a house several blocks over from the road we were on.

  We would need keys for the truck we selected. The pry-bar proved its usefulness again to gain access to the facility. I was torn between a ten-foot or fourteen-foot box. I decided on a 14-footer simply because it would have more mass to push aside any wreckage that might block our way north to the Smoky Mountains. We packed the truck with moving blankets, boxes of all sizes along with a hand truck and moving dollies. Then we moved our belongings from my Durango. It sat, lonely and forlorn, slowly shrinking in the rearview mirror as we drove off.

  When we arrived back at the strip mall we made a mistake that under different circumstances could have been life threatening. I backed the truck to the loading dock. Without slowing to reconnoiter the area, I mounted the concrete steps to open the rear sliding door of the truck. As I bent to unlatch the locking mechanism I heard someone behind me shout, “Freeze, Mister. Stand up and turn around.” And then, speaking to Becky and the kids at the foot of the steps, “You, too. Stay where you are.”

  I turned to face a huge, burly man dressed in camouflage clothing. He had long, unkempt black hair and a scraggly beard. I was also facing the business end of a sawed-off shotgun.

  “We’re not looking for trouble, sir. We can leave.”

  He looked me over and then grinned, exposing yellowed teeth. “Hell, I know you ain’t looking for trouble, you’re just looking to take food that belongs to the residents of this town.”

  I decided to play it straight. “We found this store un-looted and thought everyone here was dead. I see we made an unintentional mistake. We can look for supplies elsewhere.”

  His backwoods southern accent was strong. “Don’t be in such a rush ta go.” He glanced toward Becky. “How ‘bouts you and the young’uns come join your man and let’s do some gabbing.”

  Becky led the kids onto the loading dock and he motioned with the shotgun for them to join me.

  “You and the lady slide your pistols my way? Do it slow. I’m disarming ya, but I ain’t inta killing.”

  Becky and I did as he asked.

  “Ya mind if your two young’uns go inside and fetch us some plastic chairs from the stack near the front of the store? We’d be a mite more comfortable settin’.”

  Will looked at me. I nodded at him. “Take Jen and bring the chairs.”

  The man shifted his position so the shotgun wasn’t pointed directly at Becky and me.

  “Took me a look at the dead body up front. What clued you it wasn’t real?”

  I saw no reason not to be honest. “The red blood. Blood turns dark pretty fast.”

  “I guess none of us thought to look in there after our first go. Don’t know if we’d of spotted that tell anyways.”

  “There’re more of you here?” I asked.

  His answer was evasive. “A few. How about where ya came from?

  “A few.”

  “Yeah, like that all over I reckon. That plague was a rampage for sure. Where ya’ll headed that you need a big truck ta haul your takings?”

  I glanced to Becky who nodded at me. “We’re trying to get to a place where we can avoid people until the plague runs its course.”

  “It can do that? Ya saying after a while it’ll be over and we’ll be safe?”

  “Like the flu. After a time it will die off.”

  “I reckon ya got a point there. Where’s this safe place ya talkin’ bout?”

  Again, Becky nodded for me to be open. I told him about our plan to find a secluded mountain cabin to hide in.

  “Makes better sense than any idee we come up with. Look-a-here, my name’s Jed. There’s four of us. Me and Sadie Barnes, a woman I took up with, and George Walters and his wife. We must be ‘mune ta the plague cause we all been around them what had it. Heck, George and Diane was right with their boy, watching over him while he coughed ta death. Georg got it too, but he kicked it.”

  Will returned through the back door dragging three plastic chairs. Jen followed with two. Jed snagged one from Will’s load. “Let’s get comfortable,” he said.

  I took a chair and asked Jed, “Only four of you in the town survived?”

  “Naw, there was a few more. Five more ta be exact, four men and a loose woman. Me and George ran them out cause they was no-accounts. Naw, there was six. George had to draw down on one of them what tested him. Son-of a…” he glanced at the kids and finished his sentence, “gun pulled his pistol ta shoot me in the back but George shot first.”

  I was feeling a more comfortable with Jed, but was still confused. “What are your intentions Jed? Like I said, we thought we were taking things that no one had claims to. I have to say the shotgun is making me nervous.”

  “I got no intentions with you. I just wanted to talk a bit and to pick your brains. What do you know about conditions all over?”

  “Not much. Just that the government is gone and the powe
r’s off. Oh, someone told us that some of the nuclear power plants might be in meltdown, but she was just guessing.”

  “Mighty clear guessing. George has a ham radio he connected ta batteries. He’s been talking ta people all over the world. Course some of’ems talking gibberish foreign tongues, but lots of’em talk English. There’s meltdowns in New York and Texas for sure, but we ain’t talked ta all the states yet.”

  “What about the Shenandoah Plant near Chattanooga Tennessee? We heard a broadcast that it was in trouble.” “We talked ta some in Tennessee and ain’t none of them said nothing ‘long those lines. Look-a-here, I a’thinking maybe me and George should get us one of those trucks and move ta the mountains, too. A couple times a pickup truck’s rode through town with a bunch of drunks in the back shooting at the buildings and raising hell. Same truck both times and I recognized one of the men. Him and his brother got busted for meth. They had a lab in a travel trailer. Mean SOBs too. I don’t know how he got out of jail, but there he was.

  “Three days ago a gang of six motorcycles came through and searched a bunch of houses and stores. They had a girl with ’em. Pretty young thing if she weren’t so bruised up. Short of it is, we don’t feel none too safe this close to the freeway. What I’m gonna ask is ya wait ta load until I get back with George and the women. There’s four of you and four of us. We can split the booty here even-steven. There’s plenty for all of us.”

  “Where do you plan on going,” I asked, hoping he didn’t say with us.

  “I’m thinking a Wild Life Management area not too far from here. Good fishing and hunting. I’m sure we can find a cabin, maybe just a house near it. So longs we’re away from that…” again a glance at our children, “darned freeway.”

  “Jed, I appreciate what you’re offering. By rights, everything in town belongs to you and your people. Of course we’ll wait until you return. It’d be better to load at night anyway. Anyone traveling the roads will use lights and we’ll have an earlier warning. I think we’ll load and then wait for morning to head out.”