Solar Plexus

by Victor Zugg

  Sam looked down the highway and saw two adults—a man and a woman—and two children, probably early teens. They weren’t carrying a lot, and they did not appear to be armed.

  “Great,” Sam muttered.

  The group stopped when Sam and Chet started walking toward them.

  Sam put his hands up, palms facing the people. “We’re harmless.”

  The man and woman visibly relaxed a bit and started walking to meet Sam and Chet.

  “Are you military?” the man asked.

  Sam glanced back at the Hummer. “Kind of. Where you folks headed?”

  “Not sure,” the man replied. “Not safe at home.”

  “Where’s home?” Chet asked.

  “This side of Cleveland… Tennessee, just down the road.”

  “Why did you leave?” Sam asked.

  “Too many assholes with guns,” the woman replied. “They are taking what little there is and shooting anyone who gets in their way.”

  “I have a sister in Chattanooga,” the man said.

  “The larger cities are even worse,” Chet said. “Gangs.”

  The man winced and looked at his wife. “We have nowhere else to go.”

  The woman put her arm around her daughter. “Why isn’t the military doing something?”

  “What would you like the military to do?” Chet asked.

  “I don’t know… something!”

  “We tried, in Atlanta,” Sam said. “There are just too many people, too few resources, and way too many assholes with guns.”

  “Can you spare some water?” the man asked.

  “Sure,” Sam said, as he glanced at Chet.

  Chet walked toward the Hummer.

  The man pointed at the Hummer. “Does she work?”

  “She does,” Sam said.

  Chet returned with four bottles of water which he handed out to the people.

  The man looked up at the sun, removed his hat, and scratched his head with the same hand. “Hot one, even for August.”

  “It is,” Sam said.

  The man replaced his hat, took a swig from the bottle, and then screwed the cap back on. “I guess we should keep moving.”

  “Thanks for the water, mister,” the youngest child said.

  “Not a problem. You folks take care.”

  The family continued walking toward Chattanooga. Sam and Chet returned to Tiff and Elliot under the tree.

  “What do you think?” Elliot asked.

  “They’re harmless… just a family on the move,” Sam replied.

  “I mean about staying here tonight,” Elliot said. “Maybe we should move on as well.”

  “There’s no telling what we’ll find at the cabin,” Sam said. “I think it would be better for you to rest up for tonight. Hopefully, you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

  “I agree,” Tiff said. “You need to rest. And you need to eat some more.” She shoved another cracker with peanut butter at his mouth.

  Sam looked at Chet. “No fire tonight. I think you and I should split staying awake.”

  Chet nodded. “Where’s those MRE’s?”

  ***

  Sam was able to make out details in the landscape as the first rays of light filtered through the trees. He stepped from the Hummer and stretched. Chet stepped from the Hummer, yawned, and then headed off toward some bushes fifty yards away.

  Sam turned his head to the tent at the sound of the zipper.

  Tiff stuck her head out. “Morning.”

  “How’s he doing?” Sam asked.

  “Still some fever but not as bad,” she replied. “I think the Cipro is working.”

  “He needs that bandage replaced.”

  Elliot crawled out. “Morning,” he said.

  “Morning,” Sam replied. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like crap,” he said as he sat back against the oak tree.

  “Well, at least you’re talking, and you look better,” Sam said.

  Tiff proceeded to remove the bandage from his shoulder.

  Sam knelt and leaned in to get a better look at Elliot’s wound.

  “The doc did a good job on the stitches,” Sam said.

  “The wound is a little red, but otherwise looks okay,” Tiff said.

  “Do you feel like traveling today?” Sam asked Elliot.

  “I’m fine,” he replied. “We need to get moving.”

  “We will,” Sam said. “As soon as the nurse gets you fixed up.”

  Tiff washed the front and back of his shoulder with Betadine, applied a fresh dressing, and then helped Elliot put his arm back in the sling. Sam handed items to Tiff during the process.

  “I need to visit the little boy’s room,” Elliot said.

  “Do you need help?” Tiff asked.

  “Yeah, do you need help?” Chet asked with a smirk as he walked up heading back from the bushes.

  “No, I can handle it on my own.”

  “I’m sure you can,” Chet said. He winked at Tiff.

  Tiff frowned at Chet and then helped Elliot to his feet. He walked off toward the bushes.

  “What’s the plan?” Tiff asked.

  “Break down the tent and get moving,” Sam said. “We can eat something in the Hummer.”

  By the time Elliot returned, Tiff and Chet had the tent down and packed. Sam sat in the passenger’s front seat looking at a map as Chet, Elliot, and Tiff settled in their seats.

  “Which way?” Chet asked as he started the engine.

  “I say we turn off at Lenoir,” Sam said. “We can take country roads all the way from there. We’ll be bypassing Knoxville.”

  Chet nodded as he put the Hummer into gear and pulled out on the road.

  “I’m surprised at the number of people we’re not seeing out here,” Tiff said.

  “They’re not going to find a lot of food out here along this highway,” Chet said.

  “Makes sense,” Tiff said.

  Chet kept the Hummer at a moderate speed, weaving around stalled cars when necessary.

  Sam focused on the map. “We’re coming up on Cleveland,” Sam said. “But we’re fairly far to the west, so we should bypass a lot of whatever is going on in the city.”

  They cruised past both of the Cleveland exits with no problems. Chet pressed on.

  “How are we doing on gas?” Sam asked.

  “A little more than half,” Chet replied. “Maybe we should fill up while we have all these cars to choose from.”

  Tiff leaned forward in her seat. “And it will give us a chance to go potty.”

  Chet came to a stop next to several stalled cars and everyone hopped out. Sam grabbed the siphon hose from the back while Chet poured one of the five-gallon cans of gas into the tank. Soon, the tank was full, the gas cans were full, and all bladders were empty.

  Two hours later, Chet took the highway 321 exit at Lenoir, curved around the off-ramp, and then accelerated on the four-lane highway heading east. They passed several gas stations and fast food restaurants, but not a lot of people. The few people they did pass just stood gawking as the Hummer went by.

  “Our turnoff is in Townsend,” Sam said. “About twenty-five miles. Through Marysville.”

  “It’s beautiful up here… and cooler,” Tiff said.

  “And the people are nice, or at least, they were,” Sam said.

  Chet glanced back. “They could all be zombies by now.” He smiled.

  “I’d like to stop in Townsend and get an idea of what’s going on up here,” Sam said.

  “Think it’s a good idea to stop with the Hummer?” Elliot asked. “Any type of authority will want to commandeer a running vehicle.”

  “I know the police chief,” Sam said. “But you’re right. We can park outside of town and I’ll walk in.”

  “How about if we leave Tiff and Elliot with the Hummer,” Chet said. “You and I can walk in.”

  “Even better.”

  Forty minutes later Sam pointed to the side of the road. “Pull off over here and into the fo
rest a bit. The police department is about two miles down.”

  Chet slowed, pulled off, and drove into the forest a hundred feet. “We should be good here.”

  “How long do we wait?” Tiff asked.

  “If we’re not back in two hours, something’s up,” Sam replied.

  “And then what?” Elliot asked.

  “I’d recommend you wait until dark and then head in on foot,” Sam said.

  “Or we could just keep driving to Ohio,” Tiff countered.

  Sam detected a slight smile on Tiff’s face. “Or you could continue to Ohio.”

  Chet threw Tiff a dirty look. Tiff smiled.

  Sam and Chet exited the Hummer.

  “Sidearms only?” Chet asked.

  Sam thought for a moment. “Probably a good idea.” Sam smiled as he glanced at Tiff. “We always have Tiff and Elliot for backup.”

  “Hurry back guys,” Tiff said. “I’d like to get Elliot into bed.”

  Chet rolled his eyes.

  “You know what I mean,” she said.

  “We know exactly what you mean,” Chet said.

  With a wave and a smile, Sam and Chet started off toward the road and quickly disappeared into the foliage. At the edge of the road they stopped and checked both ways. There were no people in sight. They stepped onto the road and started walking into town. Sam thought it was odd that there were no people around. Except for an occasional lifted blind in a window or the corner of a curtain pulled back slightly, Sam couldn’t detect a sign of anyone.

  “Seems pretty quiet,” Chet said.

  “Yeah,” Sam nodded. He glanced around. “I can think of only one reason why at least some people wouldn’t be out.”

  “Not safe,” Chet said.

  “Exactly.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Two men standing and talking in front of the police department turned toward Sam and Chet as they approached. The bigger man—early thirties, toothpick in his mouth, and wearing jeans, a stained T-shirt, and a large automatic pistol on his side—stepped forward with his hand up. The other man—younger, also in jeans and a T-shirt—put his hand on the revolver holstered to his side.

  “Hold up there, gents,” the bigger man said.

  Sam and Chet stopped, about ten feet back. “Looking for Chief Daniels,” Sam said.

  “You won’t find him here,” the bigger man said. “Who are you two?”

  Sam raised his hand. “Sam. This is Chet.”

  “Howdy,” Chet said.

  “Where can we find Chief Daniels?” Sam asked.

  The younger man snickered. “The chief met with an unfortunate accident.”

  The bigger man put his hand on his pistol. “Sam and Chet, what brings you to Townsend?”

  “I own property around here.”

  “Really, whereabouts?”

  “Around here,” Sam repeated. “So, who’s in charge?”

  The bigger man shuffled his feet a bit. “I’m Dan Jones. This is Tony Smith. I’m in charge.”

  “Jones and Smith,” Chet said. “You don’t look like police officers.”

  “Self-appointed,” Jones said. “How did you get here?”

  “Walked,” Chet said.

  Jones pulled his pistol and pointed it at Sam and Chet. “Enough chit-chat. This is a gun-free zone. You’ll have to give up your weapons.”

  Smith pulled his revolver and pointed it at Chet. “Starting with you.”

  Sam caught Chet’s eyes. Chet shrugged his shoulders. They both raised their hands.

  Smith stepped forward and removed their pistols from their holsters and their knives from their sheaths.

  Jones motioned with his pistol. “Inside.”

  Sam and Chet walked forward with Jones and Smith following. Sam opened the door and stepped into the police department, followed by Chet and the two men. Sam immediately saw a large stain in the middle of the floor. Could be blood, he thought.

  Jones pointed to a hallway. “Just walk straight back.”

  Sam and Chet, hands still in the air, did as they were told. The hall opened into a large room that contained two holding cages.

  “Take a seat in the cage on the right,” Jones said.

  Sam and Chet stepped into the cage, lowered their hands, and sat on the metal bunk bed. Jones closed and locked the door.

  “Now, where’s this place of yours and how did you get here?” Jones asked.

  Sam and Chet looked at each other and then stared back at Jones and Smith without saying a word.

  “Look, this will go a lot easier if you just answer our questions,” Smith said.

  “Where is everyone?” Sam asked.

  Jones holstered his pistol. “Those that cooperated are in their homes.”

  “And those that didn’t cooperate?” Chet asked.

  “In a hole,” Smith answered with a laugh.

  “So that’s your choice,” Jones said. “In your home or in a hole.”

  ***

  “Something’s wrong,” Tiff said. “It’s been well over two hours.”

  Elliot’s eyes blinked open, and he started to sit up. He winced and sat back in his seat.

  “How are you feeling?” Tiff asked.

  “I’ve been better, but I’ll do.”

  Tiff opened the door to the Hummer and stepped out. “It’s almost dark.”

  Elliot sat up again and winced. He paused a few moments and then opened his door.

  “Where are you going?” Tiff asked.

  “With you,” Elliot replied.

  “You’ll just slow me down. Plus, someone needs to watch over the Hummer.”

  Elliot sat back in his seat. “You can’t go alone.”

  “Why not?” Tiff asked. “They’re probably just lost.”

  “If you’re not back in a couple of hours, I’ll be looking for you.”

  “Fair enough,” Tiff said, as she checked the chamber on her XDs. She holstered the pistol and took a long swig from a water bottle. “I’ll be back as soon as possible, hopefully with the guys in one piece.”

  Tiff made her way through the brush and stepped out on the highway. She looked at the last of the sun peeking through the leaves and started walking down the road. She kept her head on a swivel. There were no people about and all the buildings were dark.

  Once in town, she moved from sign to sign. With very little light, she had to get close to read each one. Finally, she found one that said Police Department with an arrow pointing to the right. She walked down the single lane drive until she saw a dim light flickering from the window of a building up ahead. A sign out front identified it as the police department.

  There was a large building across the street, what appeared to be a school. The ground around the police department was completely open on three sides. The fourth side, the far side, had brush and trees to within a few feet of the building’s wall.

  Tiff took a knee behind a small bush so she could see the front of the police department and the light flickering in the window. After ten minutes with absolutely no activity, Tiff low trotted to the side of the building and ducked under the window with the flickering light. She popped her head up for a moment and saw several desks, filing cabinets, and a counter facing the front entrance, but no people. The light was coming from a hallway.

  She stepped carefully as she inched her way along the wall toward the rear of the building. The elevation dropped away in the back. The windows were on the second level, well above her head. She noted some metal stairs leading up to a second-floor door and then continued to the forested side of the building. There were several windows on the far wall but all were dark. She crept forward and stopped at the southwest corner, the front of the building.

  She took a step to round the corner but immediately jerked back. Standing on the sidewalk, less than twenty feet away, was a man visible in the moonlight who apparently did not hear her movement.

  The man flicked a lighter and brought the flame to a cigarette wedged between his lips. Given the bri
ef additional illumination, Tiff’s mind registered only two characteristics: grungy T-shirt and a revolver in a holster on his side.

  The man took long drags from the cigarette and stared up at the cloudless sky as Tiff considered the situation. Bad guy or good guy? Unknown. How many were in the building? Unknown. Were Sam and Chet even in the building? Unknown. Tiff decided to err on the side of caution.

  She eased her pistol from its holster, stepped out from the building, and padded across the grass, almost on tiptoes. She was within five feet when the man whipped around, saw Tiff, and started for his revolver.

  “Don’t,” Tiff said, as she shook her head side to side and pointed her pistol with both hands at the man’s head. “Two fingers, take it out slow.”

  A sarcastic expression spread over Smith’s face. “And if I don’t?”

  “I’ll shoot you and move on to whoever’s next,” Tiff replied. “Your choice.”

  Smith’s sarcastic expression faded. He flipped the cigarette away and then used his right thumb and index finger to extract the revolver from the holster.

  “Toss it on the ground,” Tiff said.

  Smith complied. “Now what?”

  “Turn around and down on your knees.”

  Smith took his time turning around. “This is not going to work out well for you lady.”

  “Knees.”

  Smith went down on his knees.

  “How many are inside?”

  Smith snickered. “More than you can handle.”

  “How many?”

  Smith grinned as he shook his head. In the dim light of the moon, she could see his eyes wander from her eyes down to her breasts and then back to her eyes. He smiled.

  Tiff walked up and smacked Smith on the side of his head with her pistol. He crumpled to the ground, out cold. Tiff holstered her pistol, grabbed Smith by the feet, and dragged him to the side of the building. She removed his shoelaces, rolled him to his stomach, and tied his hands and feet. She then tore the bottom half of his T-shirt off and used it to gag him. She threw his revolver into the bushes.

  Tiff returned to the sidewalk and then hurried to the front, mostly glass, entrance. The inside was dark except for a faint, flickering light coming from down the hall. Tiff eased the door open, stepped inside, and paused to listen.