The Last Outbreak (Book 2): Devastation

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The Last Outbreak (Book 2): Devastation Page 14

by Jeff Olah


  As the road drifted right and they continued climbing, the forest beyond the two-lane road had gone completely white. Snow drifts as far as the eye could see and in every direction. The contrast from where they’d been wasn’t lost to the moment. He took a deep breath and savored the view. It was beautiful.

  The radio chirped—sounded almost like a voice. But then a second later static again filtered quietly though the speakers. Shannon was already staring at the dash when Ethan turned to her. “What else you got in that box?”

  She hesitated a moment before turning to Ethan. “What was that?”

  “Nothing. I’m sure we’re just in a weird spot out here.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay,” she said, turning her attention back to the mystery box. “You ready for this?”

  “This better be good.”

  Reaching back in, she pulled out a small bag of coffee and dropped it into his lap. “We have caffeine, well at least enough for one cup each.”

  Ethan shot a quick look into the rear cabin and then turned to her with a smile. “Not if they don’t find out.”

  As he went back to watching the road, Shannon grabbed the bag from his lap, tossed it back into the box and pulled out her third surprise. One in each hand, she held up a pair of matching two way radios.

  “They work?” Ethan asked.

  “Yep.” Turning them on one at a time, she stared at the displays. “Looks like they both have a full charge.”

  “Might come in handy.”

  “That’s it?” Shannon reached across and pushed his shoulder. “That’s all I get? I thought you’d be a little more excited.”

  “Excited?”

  “Well, at least appreciative. I know the coffee isn’t much, but the maps and the radios are—”

  Her voice trailed off as she saw it at nearly the same time as Ethan. The remnants of a massive collision that had carried off into the thick treeline and a raised black pickup truck sitting with its doors open and its headlights pointed into the dense forest.

  Two men stood near the edge of the roadway each with a shotgun slung over their right shoulder. As they noticed the armored vehicle approaching, the closer of the two held his left hand in the air and motioned for it to stop.

  Slowing the truck, Ethan turned to Shannon. “Go into the back and send Frank up. Tell Ben to stay down and stay quiet. Dump all the food into the bags on top of the guns and slide them to the back. Have Carly and Cora stay with Griffin, he’s hurt and these guys need to know it.”

  As the men approached, the first moved to the driver’s side and the second stayed near the center of the road. Looking up through the stained window, the smaller of the two men smiled and waved Ethan out.

  Taking a deep breath, Ethan cut the engine and reached for the door handle. He waited as Frank slid down into the passenger seat and before opening the door said, “They are going to want to look inside and I’m going to let them.”

  29

  The man outside his door didn’t appear to have lived in the same world that Ethan and his friends had for the last several days. His clothes were free of the usual blood and debris, he was clean shaven, and his hair sat tight to the sides of his head, brushed neatly with a purpose. He spoke through the closed window, his voice calm and even.

  “Good afternoon,” he said, lowering his weapon. “Why don’t you meet me out here in the road and we can have a little chat, maybe get to know one another?”

  Pushing open the door, Ethan didn’t look back at Frank. He stepped out, leaving the door open and stood out away from the armored truck. “My name is Ethan Runner. I am traveling with six other people. We are short on supplies and have one man injured. We’re trying to get into the city to find him some help.”

  The man standing less than five feet away nodded at Ethan and then turned to the other standing in the center of the road. “They’re short on supplies, aren’t we all?”

  “You can check the truck, we don’t—”

  Turning his focus back to Ethan the man held up his hand. “Yeah, we get it. We’re not here to hurt you, that’s not our job specifically. We will if we have to, but don’t worry. As long as you do what I say, you’ll be back on the road in less than five minutes.”

  Ethan looked back into the cab, but didn’t respond.

  The man followed Ethan’s eyes into the truck. “We’re just going to check that you don’t have anything in there that could pose a problem for our people. Once we clear you, we’ll give you directions and send you in.”

  Ethan stepped forward. “Directions? We won’t be needing any—”

  He stopped Ethan mid-sentence. “Most of the city is gone, but there are a few places that aren’t. We control those now. You’ll be leaving here and heading to the university. Either that or you can make a nice little U-turn right here and now, and then go back to whatever hole you drove out of.”

  Ethan looked out into the forest and then past the man, to where the black asphalt disappeared toward the higher elevations. “Just out of curiosity, what happens if we don’t like either of those options?”

  The man’s eyes drifted toward his shotgun. “I’ll let you figure it out. But hey, there’s no reason for any tension here. Like I said, we aren’t here to do you any harm; in fact, we actually want to help. You all look like you could use some friends, am I right?”

  Ethan didn’t answer.

  “Look, we are part of a larger group that has set up a perimeter around the university. There are over a hundred people there now who actually have a safe place to sleep at night and don’t have to worry about being attacked by those things every time they turn around.” He pointed to the armored truck. “We’d also like to help you and your friends.”

  “What do you want from us?”

  “Nothing. We just need to do a quick check of the back of your vehicle… you know, make sure you aren’t hiding a rocket launcher or anything.”

  Holding out his right arm toward the cab, Ethan said, “It’s all yours. We’ve got some food, a few blankets, a change of clothes and an injured man. Other than that—”

  The man grinned. “Weapons?”

  “Yes, there is a nine millimeter pistol in the console near the passenger seat. But we need that in case we run into another horde. It’s not much, but it’s helped us get this far.”

  “Don’t worry, we don’t want your gun. We just want to be sure who it is we’re sending up the road. Our friends count on us to sort this stuff out before anyone drives up to the gates.”

  Ethan nodded. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  “First,” the man said. “Is anyone inside bitten?”

  “No, but we do have one injured, he’s got a nice size lump on his head. Everyone else is okay.”

  “Good, because we don’t let anyone that is infected past this point. Got it?”

  “Yep.”

  Then man then turned to his friend and waved him over. “Watch this one—what did you say your name was?”

  “Ethan.”

  “Watch Ethan. If he tries anything, shoot him.” Reaching into the cab, he turned back to Ethan. “No hard feelings.”

  The man climbed into the cab, quickly greeted Frank and then disappeared into the rear of the truck. The man’s voice could be heard from the road, but the actual words were lost before they escaped the cab.

  Looking over at the larger of the two men, Ethan noticed a hint of bright orange fabric near the collar of his coat. It was tucked down, but shown as the hefty shotgun pressed into his shoulder.

  “So,” Ethan said. “You all local?”

  The large man snickered. “You could say that.”

  Ethan didn’t need to ask any more questions and it didn’t appear that the man wanted to continue the conversation. He wasn’t nearly as charismatic as his friend and looked more uncomfortable than Ethan felt. The bright orange material sitting below the man’s jacket could only be one of a few things and if it wasn’t a hu
nting vest, Ethan didn’t need to know anything else.

  Looking back into the cab and making eye contact with Frank, Ethan nodded. Frank held his hand low, gave a thumbs up, and leaned away as the smaller man stepped back into the cab and then quickly exited through the driver’s door.

  “Looks like your friend is pretty messed up. You need to get him to the gym once you and your group get there. Josie is at the north gate off Temple Avenue, you familiar with the area?”

  “Been there many times,” Ethan said. “Had a girlfriend who went there.” He was lying.

  “Good.” The man turned and looked back up the mountain. “I’ll let Josie know to expect you within the hour, so no side trips, got it?”

  “We’ll head right over.” Ethan paused and looked back the way they’d come. “Anyone else come out of the valley? I mean anyone from Summer Mill?”

  “We’ve only been out here for two days, but you’re the first come up this road. We were beginning to think everything down there was dead.”

  Ethan nodded and stepped toward the truck. “It is.”

  The man pointed up the road and said, “Remember, no side trips. If Josie has to send someone out to find you, she’s not gonna be happy. And trust me, you’ll want to keep her happy.”

  “Sure thing. North gate. Josie. Got it.”

  “Hey,” the man said as Ethan climbed into the cab, “the name’s Boone. Maybe we’ll run into one another again. Don’t be a stranger.”

  Ethan slid down into the driver’s seat and turned over the engine. He closed the door and without turning, said to Frank, “In and out in less than sixty seconds? Something isn’t right with those guys.”

  Staring straight ahead, Frank nodded to the men and waved. “Yeah, I didn’t get a good sense of what it was, but that was too easy.” Then motioning toward the back he said, “Only asked a few questions—I don’t get it. They came on pretty strong, but seemed like they lost interest quickly.”

  Nosing around the black pickup, Ethan peered into the mirror. “Did you get a look at the other one, the guy in the middle of the street?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You see that strip of orange around his neck?”

  “He had it tucked down under his shirt, but yeah I saw it too.”

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Frank lowered his voice and turned to Ethan. “Xavier Brevin?”

  “I think so, would explain a lot.”

  30

  He’d moved from the window to the floor and back to the window six different times over the last several hours. Nothing had changed. Those things still gathered near the front of the building, and although their numbers had diminished, attempting to leave the way they’d come in wasn’t going to be an option.

  Tom turned away and looked down at the woman. She’d drifted off just over thirty minutes earlier and with sleep being a rare commodity these days, he left her to rest. He didn’t need her help at the moment and was beginning to think that she may be right about heading out into the city. Instead of testing fate, he decided to get more familiar with their surroundings.

  Removing his jacket, he laid it over her upper body, walked to the door and quietly pulled it open. Peering out into the lobby, he scanned the unfamiliar room and then stepped out.

  “Okay, here we go.”

  It was much cooler in the open space than in the small office. And moving to the center of the lobby, he could see from one end of the building to the other. With the day rapidly fading into night, only the windows facing west still held a glimmer of sunlight. The blinds were drawn back and the long slivers began their descent out of the building.

  Three doors sat along the back wall. Each roughly twenty feet apart. The first he was sure led to the stairs. The second, an interior door, sat directly ahead. It had a small sign off to the right that was secured to the wall—some sort of acupuncturist. The last offered no indication as to what it was. Maybe another office, maybe something else. Tom was curious.

  Crossing the stained grey and white checkered tile, he moved to the third door. As he approached, he noticed the word “GONE” had been written in black marker. With the front entrance and the office the woman slept in over fifty feet away, Tom let out a long breath and placed his ear to the door. The only sound came from the hinges giving in to his gradual pressure.

  Pausing, he gripped the handle and tested the lock. He gave it a quarter turn and then leaned away from the door and released the handle.

  Standing out away from the door, Tom half expected someone or something to come bursting through. As if they were watching or waiting for him, but from the inside. When they didn’t, he turned back toward the office he’d come from and started to walk. She needed him. He should be there when she woke up. It was the right thing to do. But something told him he also needed to see what was in that room.

  Not five paces in, he stopped and turned. He stared back at the door and tried to justify what he was about to do.

  If there was anyone in there, they’d have come out already. The door is unlocked and we haven’t heard from anyone in hours. And if the dead were walking around in there, they’d have at least come toward the noise.

  He stood staring down at the handle. There was no reason for him to open the door. There was also no reason for him to be out in the lobby. The woman fifty feet away knew more about this area than he did and she’d seen no reason to leave the comfort of their tiny sanctuary. But he also wasn’t completely sure of her sanity. She moved in and out of coherence, and at this point, still didn’t even know her own name.

  Again scanning the lobby from one end to the other, Tom gripped the handle and pushed open the door. Parted less than six inches, the stench poured out like a wide open faucet. The smell of death enveloped him and forced his gag reflex. His knees shook and he let go of the handle. Stepping back, the door continued to swing open until it came to rest against the wall and he had a full view of the twelve-foot by twelve-foot room.

  Moving quickly with the intention of resealing the room and heading back, Tom stopped at the threshold. He wanted to close his eyes and run the other way. He wanted to reverse time and unsee what lay before him. He wanted to be able to forget, but he knew that was never going to be possible.

  Tom had spent nearly seven days in hell and what lay before him was worse than anything thus far. He avoided looking directly at the bodies and although his conscience told him not to, he entered the room and moved quickly to the man lying in a heap in the corner.

  There were four bodies in all. Three sat together at the far end of the room and appeared to have spent their last few seconds in an embrace. Two older women in pants suits and a younger female wearing jeans and a tee shirt had the backs of their heads sprayed uniformly against the wall. He glanced quickly at the blood-soaked carpeting near their feet and then looked away. Nothing he needed.

  Feeling the bile rise against the back of his throat, Tom dropped to his knees and avoided looking directly at the man who suffered the same fate as the three women. Mass suicide. His mind running quickly through the possibilities, he could only come up with one that seemed to fit the gruesome picture.

  The man whose legs he now straddled, as well as the three women lying only feet away, had decided to end things on their own terms. They wanted out of this new world and weren’t willing to let those things take them down. They wanted to die while they were still human and had the ability to make that choice.

  It appeared as though the only male in the room had punched his own ticket. His final resting place was eight feet away and opposite the women. He lay slumped to the left and his badly discolored right hand still clung to the only weapon in the room. Tom avoided breathing in through his nose as he reached in and slowly pulled the revolver free.

  Moving to his feet and standing, Tom turned back and exited as quickly as he’d come. Out into the lobby, he exhaled forcefully, attempting to rid himself of everything that lay just beyond that door. As the cool d
ry air slipped in through his nose and began filtering down into his lungs, he began to jog. His right leg still ached, but at least now it worked.

  After ten seconds, he was running. It was awkward and he limped with every other step, but he needed to get back to her. He needed to help her. Tom wasn’t ready to leave this world and neither was she. And although a small part of him understood why they did what they did, he in no way wanted the same fate. Not today, not ever.

  He was going to get back to his friends. He was going home. He was going to live, and so was she.

  Opening the door to the office, Tom stepped inside.

  She was already awake and looking up at him. She’d moved from the spot he’d left her in, and was now wearing his jacket. She wiped her face with her right hand and shook her head. “There isn’t anything out there.”

  “I know,” Tom said. “But we can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

  Attempting to look past him, out through the open door, she tried to speak, but it was only coming out in short bursts.

  “The door—”

  He just stared at her. “What?”

  “We have to—”

  She was falling again, going back into her cave. He needed her here with him. He needed her present, at least until he could get her to the car. He had a plan, but he needed the other version of her, the one that pulled him into the building. Tom stepped closer and squatted down.

  He shouted. “I NEED YOU!”

  She heard him and even met his eyes for a brief moment. However, her gaze moved away from his face, traveled over his head, and out the door. Raising her right arm, she pointed into the lobby.

  “They’re here.”

  31

  The last remaining hints of the past day were now sitting well below the horizon. Oranges and yellows had given way to the blues and purples of the coming night. The city was now cold and other than the occasional gunshot, mostly silent. The streets were empty and void of any moving vehicles, the only light coming from the university over two miles away.

 

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