Not Dead in the Heart of Dixie

by R Kralik

  I knew of five big pharmacies and several little locally owned "Mom & Pop" pharmacies. This town is infiltrated with pharmacies for such a small population.

  We have about 15,000 folks in the city limits and another 18,000 or so out in the county and smaller towns. We decided to try Walgreens first, because it was the closest. Then, we'd head to the CVS and Rite Aid on the south side of town. We'd continue on to CVS and Rite Aid on the north side if we needed to.

  We saw no one on the five-mile ride into town. The streets were deserted and about half the houses we passed had a vehicle of some sort in the driveway. Only a few houses looked completely empty. Right as we went past the first shops and businesses, I saw my second HDI. The first was Unky Bo at Caleb's house, remember?

  Suddenly, a huge mass appeared, standing on the road in front of us. She seemed to come out of nowhere. I figure she came out from behind one of the cars lining the street.

  Mick had to slam on the brakes to keep from plowing into her. We came to a screeching halt and I heard Jason come to a screeching halt behind us.

  There was an unbelievable amount of flesh standing smack dab in the middle of the road. I didn't want to look, but I couldn't tear my eyes away.

  She was a large, fat, woman in her previous life and was wearing a faded housecoat with a faded nightgown underneath. Her once fat legs stuck out from the bottom of the housecoat. The skin was sagging down around her ankles and her bare feet were black, with numerous chunks of skin missing. Oozing thick, black fluid was coming from the wounds.

  Her hair was halfway full of those big pink rollers that you need to use bobby pins with. The parts of hair where rollers had fallen out were curled in perfect, medium sized spirals and were bouncing around as she moved.

  She had big black eyes that had no depth, just darkness. The fat on her dirty face was hanging down both sides and almost reached the base of her neck. Her mouth was bloody, and when she opened it to howl, we could see that the teeth she had left were covered in blood, maggots, and black goo. One side of my brain asked "how can there be maggots in the middle of winter?" The other side kept searching for a reasonable answer.

  She shuffled up to the front of the truck and started banging both fists on the hood. Each time she landed a fist, the cut and scraped skin hanging from her arms moved like ripples on a lake.

  Chunks of her hands and fingers began sticking to the hood, and pieces of meat were flying off to land on the street below. She reached up and ripped a big, saggy, flap of skin off her jowl. She looked at it, licked it, and then flung it to the ground. Thick black fluid began oozing from her new injuries. She was howling so loudly that I wanted to plug my ears and crawl down on the floorboard, but my eyes were fixed on her and I couldn't pull them away.

  Jason was out of the Jeep, behind the driver side door, yelling at Mick to "SHOOT 'ER, SHOOT 'ER!" Mick opened the door and stepped out, standing behind the protection of the door. He raised the Benelli and took aim.

  The shot hit her smack in the face.

  Almost her entire face disappeared with the pellet facial she had just taken, and she stood glaring at us from fleshless eye sockets for three or four seconds before she dropped to the ground with a loud splat. I opened my door, leaned out, and called Ralph.

  We climbed back into the vehicles and locked the doors. Mick looked back, put it in reverse, and turned the wheel so we could go around the sprawled out body. I saw movement at the side of a building on our right. I didn't say a word but started bouncing in my seat and frantically pointing.

  There were two HDI's coming around the side of the building with their arms stretched toward us like they wanted a big ol' hug. I think they were father and son, but I really didn't want to hang around and find out. I screamed for Mick to "get us the hell outa here," and he slammed it in drive and floored the gas pedal.

  We kept heading into town proper. We had a mission and Mick was not about to abandon it. I looked in the side mirror so I could check on Marisa in the Jeep behind us. She was sitting in the passenger seat, as still as a statue.

  Mick and I didn't talk. We were both quiet and trying to silently talk ourselves into believing that we "didn't see what we just saw." It didn't work, and I had to tell him to pull over in front of a little jewelry boutique so I could call Ralph again.

  We made it to Walgreens and pulled in the parking lot. There were four cars there, but the remaining spots were empty. Mick pulled the truck right up beside the front door. Jason and Marisa parked directly behind us.

  Glass from the windows was laying in shattered piles on the sidewalk in front of the building. Mick and Jason got out to check the inside of the building before allowing Marisa and I to get out of the vehicles. They came back about five minutes later and said we could go in, but not to expect much because the place looked like it had already been looted.

  There wasn't a crumb of food left in the place. Marisa and I began grabbing soap, shampoo, toothpaste, and other hygiene items, but there wasn't much of that left either.

  The aisle with the paper goods was a mess, but there were several unopened packages laying on the floor. I grabbed as many toilet paper packages as I could find and went to toss them in the bed of the S10. Marisa was behind me with an armload of paper towels and a pillowcase full of baby wipes. I threw the toilet paper into the truck bed and turned to head back in.

  I paused before re-entering because I thought I’d heard something shuffling between the truck and the building. I looked to my right.

  About five feet in front of me was an HDI who wanted me for breakfast. I was just in time to dodge a grasping hand.

  He was wearing a white lab coat, and he looked "fresher" than the lady who attacked the front of the truck, but he was scary as hell and his eyes were black and flat. I felt his hand brush the sleeve of my coat and I almost wet myself. I kicked out at him, and my foot connected with the side of the truck. He kept coming. I almost fell to my knees from the pain, and he would have had a handful of my face if I hadn't crouched down to grab my screaming foot and ankle.

  It threw him off balance. He fell forward and slid down between my body and the side of the truck. He was partially underneath the truck and was pushing his body back around to come at me again. He got a hold of the door handle and pulled himself back up.

  I had backed up a few feet, and was pawing frantically at my holster, trying to get my Glock and take him down when he suddenly stopped moving and stood completely still. I looked closer and saw a big ol' Ka-Bar knife sticking out of his right eye socket. He fell to the ground in a heap.

  I looked for Marisa and saw her standing off to the side, shaking like a leaf, with an empty Ka-Bar pouch on her belt and a Walther P22 dangling from her hand.

  I couldn't help myself. I screamed "you missed one!" into the building toward Mick and Jason. They dropped everything and came running out of the store with guns in the air.

  When he saw we were okay, Jason gathered the still shaking Marisa into his arms and began walking her back to the Jeep. I stopped him long enough to ask her if she was okay, and she nodded her head up and down. I asked if she had been scratched or bitten and she shook her head from side to side. She said "I couldn't shoot 'cause I was afraid I'd hit you." Jason, Mick and I all assured her that she had done the right thing.

  She burst into tears and pulled me in for the tightest hug she's ever given me in her life. I was clinging to her and crying along with her. After a minute or two she let go of me and Jason continued walking her to the Jeep. He opened the passenger door and put her inside.

  He stood there, talking quietly with her for a few seconds, and then he shut the door and headed back to Mick and me. I heard the locks of the Jeep doors click down as Jason was walking toward us. He came up beside us and said "let's get this done," in a solemn voice.

  Mick raised Sam Colt and pointed over the pickup bed. He took out an elderly lady who was infected and shuffling toward us. She fell to the ground, and Mick turned and headed back into
the building without a word.

  I wiped my eyes and decided to head straight back to the pharmacy counter to get any medicine I could and get out of there as fast as my weak, trembling legs would carry me. There was only one thought on my mind - get Nana and Pop's meds and get out of this place. Lucky for me, the glass across the front of the prescription drug area was already broken.

  I climbed over the counter and headed toward the drug shelves. There were no narcotics or drug-addict favorites left in the place. I tried to calm myself by focusing on my list and the task at hand. It was difficult, but after several minutes I was fully into my work and concentrating on finding the right medications.

  The drug shelves were arranged much like a grocery store. The medications were stored in sections, with each section related to a specific need, company, or related disease. Several shelves were completely empty. I walked the aisles, finding bottles here and there, until I came to sections that were hardly touched. There were a lot of medications in the mix and I didn't know what most of them treated, but I took them anyway.

  I was able to get two industrial sized bottles of Nana's blood pressure medicine and three 100 count bottles of Pop's Celebrex. I also got a 100 count bottle of Nana's diabetic medicine along with two, new in the box, glucose monitors.

  The antibiotic shelves were missing about a quarter of their stock and were across the aisle from the empty narcotic shelves. I swept my arm along the shelves and landed what was left into one of the plastic pharmacy bins they get their daily deliveries in. When I bent to pick up the bin, I saw a bottle that had rolled under the shelf, so I grabbed it. It was a small, half full bottle of Lortab. I didn't have time to see what strength or count they were. I threw the bottle in the bin with the antibiotics, said "ha ha, you missed some" to some invisible drug fiend.

  I filled another bin with prescription medications for children whether I was familiar with them or not.

  I took all the bags of "fluids" that were left. I'm guessing they're used for re-hydration.

  I took all sorts of little medical gadgets even though I have no clue what many of them are intended for.

  There was a refrigerated storage container with vials and bottles still inside, but I left it alone. I figured that everything in there had gone bad since the electricity has been off, and I didn't want to take a chance with them. I didn't open it because I was afraid some rotten, stinky bacteria from a man-made science experiment would float out and get me.

  As I filled each bin, Jason grabbed it and took it to the Jeep.

  Mick was stuffing bandages, splints, crutches, leg braces, peroxide, witch hazel, bleach, washing powder, over-the-counter medicines, and anything else he came across into several small, wheeled shopping carts.

  He got one of those metal adult "walkers" and a couple of walking canes.

  He got several small bags of dog food and cat food. He tossed in a few pairs of panty hose, a couple brooms, a bunch of feminine hygiene supplies, and several instant cameras for some reason known only to him.

  He grabbed manicure sets, hair clippers, scissors, barrettes, hair brushes, and other hair supplies.

  He picked up a couple of toilet seats and threw them in. I laughed and he said "What? We can put 'em on top of the buckets." I have to admit, I thought that was a good idea.

  He took scarves, hats, and gloves along with socks, gimmicky pajama pants, and a pile of white t-shirts that were on clearance.

  He got every vitamin left in the place for children and adults, and any dietary supplements he could find including the "build stronger muscles" protein powders.

  He finished clearing out the toilet paper aisle and found an overflow shelf full of condoms and sexual "enhancement" products. He took the condoms and left the rest.

  He also left the makeup and perfumes. It took him four trips with the carts to get it all on the truck. We threw everything in willy-nilly except for the medications which we put in the rear of the Jeep.

  We left all the Christmas decorations, greeting cards, and gift cards, but we did get a good little haul of Duracell batteries from the Christmas section. We left all the "as seen on TV" cheap gadgets that were only good enough to stuff a box.

  We had no more encounters with HDI's near the store.

  Both vehicles were full. We needed to head home and unload before we could go back to any clothing or food stores. Jeremy would have to wear his high-water sweatpants for another day or two. Mick was cussing a blue streak and said we have to find a way to haul more stuff if we were gonna keep on lootin'.

  We heard two gunshots as we took off down the street. None of us were in the mood for target practice and none of us wanted to be the target. Marisa was still in shock, so we high tailed it out of there lickity split.

  My heart was thumping in my chest and my breath was coming fast and shallow. I tried to get it back under control and pulled my purse out of the glove box so I could get a Xanax in me. When we got within shouting distance of our street, I looked to my right and saw a little HDI infected girl jumping around on a closed in trampoline. I let out a little whimper, then turned my head back to the watch the road and concentrate on my breathing.

  We didn't stop at the little motorhome camp. For one thing, we didn't want them to see what we had in our vehicles, and for another thing, our nerves were shot and we felt like we would make poor company.

  There were two middle-aged men and a tall girl standing near the fire. The girl was stirring something in the pot. Mick waved at them and they waved back as we turned the corner and headed down our street.

  By the time we reached home, I was feeling a little better. We practically fell out of the vehicles. It took about thirty minutes before I felt normal again.

  Marisa was still slightly in shock. She went straight to her bedroom and came out only to eat a little supper since she missed the hot dog/mac 'n cheese lunch. She ate a tiny bowl of rice and about half a cup of pinto beans, but she refused the muffins. She gave me a hug and told me she needed to have some peace and quiet.

  Nana told her we'd take care of the little ones and not to worry. I gave her a big, motherly hug and sent her to bed. I doubt we'll see her again until morning. Jeremy can take care of his cuts and bandages by himself tonight.

  11:15 PM...

  Mick, Pop, Jason, and Jeremy are sitting at the kitchen table, cleaning all of our weapons even though only two of them saw action today.

  I'm feeling a little washed out from the Xanax along with more adrenaline than my body has seen in years. I'm a little nauseous and fear I might have to call Ralph again. I plan to sleep late tomorrow. God help anyone who tries to drag me out of my bed before I'm good and ready.

  Oh, while we were unloading today Mick found two bullet holes in the rear fender of the Jeep. Ain't that grand?

  Bye for now.

  Friday, January 10

  When I walked out of the bedroom this morning, Mick was already up and coffee was waiting. He had a thermos in his hand and was headed out the door. I asked where he was going and he said he's taking the Jeep over to Caleb's house to hook up the flatbed trailer from the tractor shed, then he's headin' to TSC with Jason to see what they could find.

  I rolled my eyes. I told him to grab any animal feed he could find.

  I told him to check the clothing area for anything he, Pop, Jason, or Jeremy could use, and handed him my list with their sizes written down. He said "will do" and went out the door.

  I sat down for my first cup of coffee of the day as they were heading down the driveway. Jeremy wanted to go with them but he's still not strong enough to protect himself, or anyone else, for that matter. I forgot to tell them to grab animal care products and animal maintenance supplies, darn it!

  Carisa sat down beside me while I was having my coffee. She grabbed a soda and sat in the chair next to me. I looked at her like she was crazy for having soda at 8:00 in the morning. She looked down at the shiny can, shrugged her shoulders, and popped open the top. She took a big ol
' swig.

  I think it was her version of liquid courage 'cause she had that "I need to talk about something serious" look on her face. I took a sip of my coffee and waited for her to speak.

  "Well, Mom" she said "you know I'm fifteen and I know how to shoot a gun, and I'm not stupid." She looked at me for assurance. "Yep, I know all that. I gave birth to you" I replied, then paused to let her continue. "I was thinking that maybe you guys could let me go on one or two of the lootin' runs so I could help gather stuff, or shoot the bad guys when they get too close" she said. "I'm sick of always being the babysitter and running to my room when something happens."

  I sat my coffee mug on the table and turned to look at her while I spoke. I wanted to be careful. I didn't want to make her feel like I thought she was still a little kid who needed her parents to take care of her at every turn, or that her opinions didn't matter. "You have no idea how important it is to us that you, Caleb, and Amber are kept safe. We rely on you more than we should."

  She started to turn from me, so I put my hand on her knee and continued. "I know you can take out the bad guys with the best of 'em, but I'm your mother and you’re still young. I'm responsible for making sure you’re safe and able to grow into the incredible woman you are becoming. It's a responsibility I don't take lightly. I'm afraid the world has hit rock bottom and the only chance it has to regain its strength is through young people like you, Amber, Caleb, Marisa, Jason, and Jeremy. You guys are our future. We need to learn from experienced people like Pop and Nana who have lived through some tough times themselves. If we can’t keep all of you safe, there is no future." I stressed that last sentence strong and hard.

  I had her full attention, so I continued. "We're in for tough times ahead. We don't know if the military plans to attack and raid us, or if they’ll leave us alone to take care of ourselves. We don't know if they'll try to take you, or Jason, or Marisa, or me and Dad for that matter. We don't know if other survivors will join us, or try to take what we have and kill us. We have no idea what's happening in the world, and we don't know what's gonna to happen tomorrow, or the day after."