“We need to make it kinda fast. The engine revving and the tire squeal has drawn us an audience,” Steve pointed out.
They grabbed their backpacks and continued north. They followed a dirt road on the other side of the multiple train tracks and came out between a collision center and a tire shop. Bill made a beeline for the tire shop. Terry and Jake had their swords out and were dispatching thrillers as they went. There were quite a few that headed towards the sound of the stuck truck. The thrillers were spaced out several feet apart, and it wasn’t too difficult to navigate between them. Parked in front of the tire shop was another old two-door pickup.
“Jesus, what is this? Farm truck day?”
Bill looked in, and the keys were in the ignition. He hoped this one would start. And it did. Bill walked around to the passenger side and hopped in. Brandy resumed her spot behind the wheel as the other three got in the back.
Heading north again, they went seven blocks and found the Buffalo Police Department Annex on fire. Bill told Brandy to speed up and not to stop for anything. Since the building was still on fire, that meant it had been set today, and whoever had set it ablaze was probably still around.
As they got up the street another block, shots rang out from the pawn shop on the left side of the road.
“Faster, faster, faster!” Bill urged.
“I have the pedal to the metal right now. This old truck just won’t go any faster,” Brandy bit back.
Shots zinged by, and a few hit sheet metal. The back window shattered inwards, covering Bill and Brandy in little bits of glass. A small hole appeared in the windshield. The guys in the back returned fire. Fueled by fear and adrenalin, Brandy hauled the truck around stalled-out cars and raced further north.
“Guys, we have problems back here,” Terry announced through the hole that was missing a back window.
Bill looked back but didn’t see anyone following them, so he looked at Terry with a confused look on his face.
“Jake’s been shot.”
“Goddamn it,” Bill hollered out in frustration.
“Brandy, hun, I’m going to need you to stop. Now,” he said more calmly.
She looked over at him, and the color had drained from her face. She replied with a nod and stopped the truck in the middle of the street.
“Thanks.”
Bill jumped out and climbed into the back.
“Get his shirt open,” he instructed to anyone listening while he dug out his trauma kit. Steve also had some field triage training but hadn’t begun to triage Jake. Why he hadn’t started sooner, Bill never got the chance to ask.
“Brandy, keep going. A couple of miles up the road on your left will be a university, and on your right will be a golf course. That’s when you know you’re getting close to the next turn, which is right onto Highway 5, also known as Main Street.”
Without a word, she hammered down on the gas pedal, and the truck lurched forward once again. Bill and Steve went to work. Jake had a sucking chest wound, so Bill cut opened the chest wound package while Steve stuffed combat gauze into the hole. Bill handed him the plastic square and some tape, and Steve sealed off the wound. Bill and Steve rolled Jake onto his side to assess the exit wound. It was large and raged on the edges. Bill and Steve locked eyes, and Bill just shook his head slowly. They rolled Jake onto his back, knowing his time was almost up.
“Did you get the bullet out? Am I going to be ok?” Jake said with slurred words.
“Yea, man. You’ll be fine. I gave you an injection. The pain will go away here in a little bit. Thanks for being there for us. Just rest.” Bill had lied about the injection, but he hadn’t known what else to say.
“Ok, I think I’m going to take a little nap. I’m awfully tired now.”
“Yea, buddy, you do that.”
Terry just sat there, held his friend’s hand, and silently wept.
“Bill, we have another issue up here,” Brandy called out. Bill looked up and saw the university to the left. The intersection up ahead was jam-packed with crashed cars.
“Turn right, through those trees, and cut across the golf course,” Bill said solemnly.
Brandy drove across the fairway and headed for the clubhouse. She ran over a thriller wearing funny pants and then turned onto the golf course entrance road. She took a right onto Main Street and still hadn’t slowed down for anything. Three miles up the road, they passed another college on the left. This one was completely ablaze. Several blocks up the road, more gunfire was exchanged with some mouth breathers who were apparently trying to break into a bank. Then they crossed under the 92 and into the business district of Williamsville.
“Up ahead, you will cross Elliot Creek and then take a right onto Garrison Road.”
“Ok, got it. Right onto Garrison Road. Hang on!” Brandy shouted out.
The truck plowed into a small group of thrillers at fifty miles an hour. Steam began to rise from the hood almost immediately. The thrillers had congregated around a car that had stalled out in the middle of the road. One flew up and smashed the windshield. It spider-webbed the whole thing. Brandy shook the steering wheel back and forth until it rolled off onto the black top.
“Well, that really blows,” Steve announced. “Keep going until we get off this main road, at least.”
The truck lasted three more blocks before it overheated. They made their scheduled right at the intersection of Park and Garrison, and then the engine seized up.
“Terry, grab Jake’s pack. We will either redistribute everything at Cliff and Doris’s house or, hopefully, someone there can carry it. I’ll carry his gun. From here, it’s better if we walk anyway so we don’t attract any more unwanted attention than we already have.”
Bill went around to the front of the truck and saw an arm sticking out of the radiator.
“Don’t you just hate it when you’re trying to give someone a hand and you break shit instead?” Bill muttered to himself.
Steve hopped out on the driver’s side so he could give Brandy a hand, and he noticed her chest was all wet.
“Where did that come from? Is that from you?”
He had a hard time telling if it was blood or just wet, because she had on a red shirt. Bill walked over to see what Steve was talking about.
“Yea, I was also shot by the guys at the pawn shop. It’s not bad. I can hardly feel it,” she replied as she looked down at her shirt.
“Bullshit. Lift your shirt up. Let’s have a look.”
Her eyes flitted around to the three men, and she paused.
“Damnit, Brandy, were not trying to get a fucking peep show. We need to see how bad it is,” Bill pressed.
She lifted her shirt up: she had been shot right though her left breast, and it had nicked the right one.
“Holy shit, you got lucky. A few more inches that way, and it would have pierced your heart or lungs. All right, now take your shirt the rest of the way off, and your bra, so we can patch you up.”
“It’s fine, really.”
“You’re bleeding, and if we don’t clean and cover the wound, you are at a risk for infection. Now, off with it,” Bill demanded.
With another small hesitation, she pulled her shirt off and undid her bra, letting it drop to the ground. She figured since it was covered in blood, she wouldn’t want to put it back on.
As Steve got closer to her so he could clean her bullet wounds, he asked a question nobody expected.
“Is that, is that silicone leaking out?”
“Yes. There you have it. I got a boob job while you were in the Navy, ok? Can we move on and get this over with?”
“Yea, sorry. I just had no idea.”
“Well, you believed that they developed after high school, and so I let you. I got them a natural size that was proportionate to my ass.”
“Fair enough. I do love that ass.”
A few minutes later, the patch job was completed, and she pulled out a clean shirt from her backpack. They walked down Garrison Road and took a
left on Scott and a right on Monroe. Dispatching thrillers along the way was fairly easy, as they were able to sneak up on most of them.
When they arrived at Cliff and Doris’s house, everyone was happy to see them. Nobody in that family, other than Cootch, had learned to shoot or defend themselves. They’d never seen the need. That was why Cootch had asked Bill to go rescue his family.
“Cliff, Doris, nice to see you again. You remember my son Terry. And this is Steve and Brandy.”
“This is Phillip and Tanya, Cootch’s brother and sister in-law, and his sister, Michelle.”
“It's nice to meet everyone. But we really need to get a move on. Are y’all packed and ready to go?” Bill asked.
“Oh my. Dear, are you bleeding?” Doris asked Brandy.
“Yea, I was shot. They patched me up back by the main road.”
“Why would anyone do that? And where is your car?” Doris said as she looked out the window like maybe she had missed it the first time.
“People have lost their damn minds. They are killing and raping to their hearts content. A thriller’s arm punctured the radiator of the truck we were driving. So, we're going to need a new car.”
“A what, dear?”
“A different car. That's what I meant by new. Obviously, there aren’t any salesmen to buy a car from anymore.”
“No. What's a…thriller?”
“Oh, thriller. We call the zombies that because of the music video from the eighties,” Bill interjected.
“Oh, from that pervert that liked little boys.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me again why people were shooting at you?”
“Because they think they can and get away with it. We lost one of our team on the way here. He was shot through the chest and bled out in the back of the truck we were using,” Brandy said.
“How do you propose we get where we're going, then? My car isn't big enough to fit everyone.”
“Y’all only have one car here?”
“Well, we had a few, but some guys came last night and stole them,” Cliff explained.
“What? How?”
“Phillip was charging the cell phones and left the cars running. And next thing we knew, they were going down the street,” Cliff explained.
“Uh, yea, sorry about that.”
“Ok, no worries. What kind of cars did your neighbors drive?”
“What? Steal from our neighbors? We could never!” Doris sounded shocked that such a thing could even be thought, let alone vocalized.
“Where are they now?”
“I don’t know. We haven't seen them all week.”
“Doris, listen to me. We just traveled two thousand miles to come save you. His best friend just died not but twenty minutes ago. There are no police. There are no firefighters. I'm getting a vehicle, and we're leaving. If you want to see Cootch and the kids again, I highly suggest you get on board with us.”
“Ok, fine, do what you have to do. I just don't want to know about it.”
“Deal. Steve, let's go next door and see what we got.”
The two men went around the neighbor’s house to the back door and found it unlocked. Inside, as they sighted down the barrel of their weapons, they found themselves in a mud room with coats hung up and rain boots neatly placed to one side.
In his best Hispanic female voice, Bill said, “Pablo? Are you coming to Florida?”
“AHRGHRGHRGHRGHAGRHARGH!”
Around the corner came an adult little-person thriller. Bill adjusted his aim down and double tapped him in the face.
“What do you call a psychic midget that escaped prison?”
“I don't know, what?”
“A small medium at large.”
“Dude, how can joke at a time like this?”
“That's how I deal with feelings.”
“Ah, ok. If I was in a better mood, that might have been funny. Let’s hope he has a car big enough for us all fit in.”
“I'm sure we can fit everyone in his car.”
“You mean he drives a clown car?”
“Let's hope.”
Bill squatted down next to the body and patted down his pockets, looking for the car keys.
“Found them. They were on the kitchen counter,” Steve called out from another room.
They very carefully entered the garage and found it empty except for one four-door sedan. Turned out his car had special modifications so the owner could drive it safely.
“Sorry, man, no clown car. Let’s go next door and see what we find over there.”
The next house down was a little smaller in appearance, but it had a two-car detached garage. They could see inside, since one roll-up door was open, and that half was empty. Bill walked into the garage and saw a suburban parked in the closed side. The suburban was locked, and nothing inside moved. They walked up to the back door and found it was also locked. Bill lifted up the door mat on a whim. He didn’t really expect to find a key there, but lo and behold, there it was.
“Dude, how stupid can people be in this day and age?” Steve asked.
“Are you talking about, like, right now, right now or like two weeks ago?”
“You know what I meant. Let’s go find the keys and get the hell out of here. I don’t like this door-to-door shit. It’s worse than trying to sell vacuum cleaners. At least then you know you’re going to be told no. Now we have no idea what to expect.”
“True. Let’s get this over with.”
When Bill opened the door, the hinges creaked slightly, and he froze. There was no sound from within, so he pushed it the rest of the way open. The house smelled like it had been closed up for a week, but it did not smell of death. Bill turned to check down the hallway while Steve started in the living room. Bill found a set of keys that looked like the right ones in the master bedroom on the dresser. He walked towards the back door and found Steve standing there eating a Twinkie.
“Found some keys, Steve. Let’s go see if they work.”
“Man, I didn’t really like these things before. You know? All those preservatives and crap. Now it’s like heaven in my mouth. I guess it’s probably because I know that no more will be made. And you never know how long you’re going to live in this day and age. And yes, I’m talking about right now, right now.”
“I get what you’re saying. Got anymore?”
“Nope, sorry, man, last one.”
“How many were there?”
“I don’t know, like five or six.”
“Jesus fuck, Steve, you went full-on sailor and deep throated them like a dick, didn’t you?”
“HAHAHAHA! Yea, I guess I did. I also realized we haven’t eaten since breakfast. So, I was pretty hungry.”
“Damnit, now I’m hungry too.”
“Well, eat a dick!”
Both men laughed heartily.
“No, I’m Air Force. We’re only gay on Tuesdays.”
“Well, it’s not my lucky day, then, isn’t it?”
“I have no idea what day it even is anymore.”
Steve looked at his watch.
“It’s Saturday again. Eight days since the dead started walking.”
“Fuck my life. Is that all? Feels like it’s been a month or two. Kinda like deploying. You do so much every day that in a few days, they all blend together, and you lose track of time.”
“I know what you mean. It’s really like that on a ship too.”
“I bet. Yea, my brother is Navy, and he was out to sea when this went down. I have no idea what happened to him.”
“Sorry to hear that, man.”
“Well, there nothing any of us can do about, so I try not to dwell on that shit.”
“I’m trying to do the same thing. Still can’t believe Brandy got shot. She and I have become real close, in the last week especially. I don’t know how I would handle losing her.”
“Trust me, it’s not easy. You must have been an awesome Navy officer.”
“What? Why?”
“You have some white stuff on your chin. Clean yourself up and let’s get back,” Bill said with a chuckle to his voice.
Bill and Steve pulled up in front of Cliff and Doris’s house, and Steve went in the house to help with their bags while Bill waited in the in the driver’s seat. He’d turned off the engine because he didn’t want to draw attention, but he also didn't want to leave the car unattended since there were apparently car thieves roaming the neighborhood. Ten minutes later, they pulled away from the curb and headed back to Fort Wayne.
Chapter 3. Road to Fort Wayne. Again.
Bill headed out of the neighborhood, taking extra precaution to stay at least two blocks away from their abandoned truck, with Jake’s body left still lying in the truck bed. Bill felt wrong about leaving him there. He had a knot in the pit of his stomach for not taking him to the house and burying him, but he knew they didn't have the time. When they got back on Main Street, Bill saw a horde that had surrounded the truck. He knew the scent of Jake’s blood had attracted them. He also saw a group of people picking them off, probably in hopes that something good was left behind. They traveled west a few miles and then headed south on Highway 78, also known as Transit Road. Just after making the right turn, Terry spoke up. He was sitting in the cargo area of the Suburban with the bags and keeping watch behind them.
“Heads up. I just saw a flash back there. I can't be certain, but it looked like someone might be following us.”
“Copy.”
“To whom are you speaking? Have you gone mad? Are you talking to yourself?” Doris asked Bill. He calmly explained how the coms in their helmets worked and that he was talking to Terry in the far back.
“Oh, that's neat,” she replied.
A mile up the road, Bill saw their tail turn to follow them, so he sped up as fast as he dared while avoiding stalled-out cars and thrillers in the road. He looked down at the instrument panel. His heart sank, and his balls got that tingly feeling that told him he was in serious trouble.
“I need everyone who’s not wearing a helmet to get as low as you can. We have people following us, and we're going to have to fight. Real soon.”
“No, I'll just talk to them. I can be very persuasive when I want to. That's what I'm good at. That's why I was hired on at one of the most prestigious law firms in Buffalo,” Phillip announced proudly.
Beginning of the New Beginning, Vol. 2 Page 3
