by Hoaks, C. A.
“We’ll get everything, including all the coffee you can find and that coffee maker. We can use it in the recreation center at the camp.”
Jake raised his hand and tapped the end of the crowbar into the glass front of the candy machine. The glass shattered into a puddle of shards at the metal base. He knocked out the remaining glass from the top of the window and retrieved a Payday candy bar. He tore open the wrapper and bit off a mouthful.
“Damn, that’s good. The world is truly going to be fucked without these,” Jake commented with a grin.
“Get serious. We got a job to do.” Matt frowned as he walked down the counter opening cabinet doors.
Jake swallowed the mouthful of nuts and caramel. “Got it, boss.” He shoved the remaining candy bar into his pocket.
“We’ll come back and get the water and usable items after we get the office cleared,” Matt ordered. “For now, let’s find those keys.”
“Manager’s office, maybe?” Jake responded.
“Good a place as any to start.”
They walked back into the hallway, and Matt nodded toward a metal plaque at the side of a door, on the front end of the hall. He stepped to the door and tapped. When he heard nothing, he turned the knob and eased the door open. The office was empty. Light from a window spilled into the room, making both Matt and Jake squint.
“Won’t be much need for sign makers now,” Jake commented.
Next to a sign listing procedures for using company vehicles hung a glass front box with rows of keys. Each set was labeled. When Matt found a tag with crane truck written on one side and a plate number on the other, he palmed the key.
“I’ll get Dreschel and head out to the yard. You and Jenkins clear the offices before you go in, then clean out the machine and load up anything of value.”
Jake laughed, “No problem.”
Matt and Dreschel picked up two cases of water each and carried them to the Humvee. They turned to head for the equipment yard when Dreschel pointed toward the intersection two blocks away. A couple dozen infected had taken notice of the activities and headed up the street toward the yard. The sound of the Humvee driving through the streets had drawn them as if moths to a flame.
Matt leaned back into the office and called out, “Make it quick. There’s company coming. Out of here in two minutes!”
“Coming!” called out Jake.
He walked out of the break room with three cases of water in his arms. Jenkins followed, dragging two trash bags and carrying the black coffee brewer under his arm.
Matt laughed. “Get to the Humvee and cover us.”
“Roger that!” yelled Jenkins.
Matt caught up with Dreschel just as he got to the truck door. He reached for the door, but Matt stopped him and pulled his handgun. He slammed his fist against the door and stepped back to look into the window. When no sounds emanated from within the cab, or a face appear with gnashing teeth, he nodded.
Dreschel turned the key in the lock and opened the door while Matt trained his gun on the inside of the cab. A moment later, Dreschel pulled himself into the driver’s seat and jammed the key in the ignition. He turned the key, and the engine roared to life.
He grinned at Matt as he climbed into the passenger seat. “Ya’ gotta love procedures that are followed. We got a full tank of gas, and the crane key is on the same key ring.”
Matt laughed. “Can you lower the boom?”
“Not from in here. Got it covered, though. I worked on a tree trimming crew before joining up. We used one of these bad boys on the big trees.”
Dreschel opened the door and stepped to the platform behind the cab. He slipped into the rig control house and cranked the engine. He twisted levers and used a knob or two, and the boom descended and lowered to the top of the cab. After a few more adjustments, he retracted the telescoping supports. He cut off the crane motor and balanced his way back into the cab of the truck.
At a thumbs-up from Matt, Dreschel grabbed the big truck’s steering wheel and slammed the shift into first gear. He released the clutch, and the rig rolled toward the entrance.
The big truck moved out of the yard just as the assemblage of infected crossing the intersection a block away. Dreschel turned the rig toward the shambling crowd, where the monsters continued to stumble down the middle of the street toward the sound of the big diesel engine.
Matt picked up the spare radio and depressed the mic button, “Dreschel is gonna plow the row, just fall in line but not too close.”
“Roger,” Jenkins answered through the speaker.
Matt laid the radio on the seat and glanced at the side mirror, as Jenkins guided the Humvee behind the crane truck. The growl of the powerful engine under the truck’s hood vibrated under his feet. “Plow through ‘em. Don’t slow down and don’t stop,” Matt ordered.
Dreschel grinned. “No problem.”
Dreschel grabbed the steering wheel with one hand and the gear shift with the other. He shifted gears, released the clutch and stepped on the gas. Gears engaged and the truck began picking up speed. He slammed down his left foot, changed gears, and then released the clutch again.
The truck was doing thirty miles per hour when they hit the first of the infected. The massive grill knocked over the bodies while the wide heavy-duty tires ground them into rancid, pungent goo on the asphalt.
“Sick!” Jenkins called through the radio with an exaggerated groan. “Fuckin’ smell is killing me!”
Matt took out the city map and directed Dreschel to the next cross street to turn left, leaving the group of infected behind. They passed through the older part of the city, dodging around stalled and abandoned vehicles and clusters of infected. No signs of life remained. Houses stood as silent sentinels of the lives lost to the infection. Doors hung open, and curtains billowed on the breeze through shattered windows. Everywhere, there were bodies with terrible wounds, yet teeth gnashed, and their clouded eyes turned toward the sound of the truck engine.
Dreschel sighed. “How did these fuckers get this far out from San Antonio so fast?”
Matt studied the surrounding areas. “Probably locals. No one to stop the people leaving the city. Some were probably infected, and when they died, well this is the result.”
As they drove down the street, Matt saw a Mercedes with Bexar County plates. The doors on the driver’s side stood open. Blood covered the light colored interior of the door and the outside of the back door. Slender arms covered in blood reached out through a broken window at the sound of the truck passing.
Matt turned away, as he imagined a child forever reaching for a parent’s comfort. A child that had suffered greatly, before dying. He took a deep breath to dispel the image and looked toward the end of the street; it was the main thoroughfare that led to their next destination.
“Take a right at the end of the street. The trucking company is on the left about a mile down,” Matt added.
Dreschel downshifted, then eased the massive truck around yet another pair of cars forever locked together with the occupants clambering to escape their tomb. He accelerated and steered the truck down the last half mile to the trucking company location.
He slowed and asked, “Where to?”
Matt pointed to a wide parking lot at the side of the road. “Park there. Stay in the cab and keep the radio close. Keep watch,” he picked up the radio and spoke into the mic. “Jenkins, come around and pick me up. Time to look for those trucks,” he handed the radio back to Dreschel. “Let us know if anything heads our way.”
Dreschel opened the door and laid a handgun on the dash. He pulled a rifle across his lap and checked the load. “No problem. Got it covered.”
Matt stepped out of the cab just as Jenkins pulled the Humvee alongside the cab of the truck. Matt opened the back door and slid into the seat behind Jake. He pointed toward the left side of the industrial complex where they could see half a dozen parked trucks.
Jenkins guided the Humvee across the lot. He rolled past the firs
t of the commercial companies. The business park looked deserted as far as they could see. No wandering infected or evidence of the living was evident.
“Looks like at least three companies use the parking lot,” Jake complained.
“We’ll have to find the right office,” Matt announced, as he pointed to the far end of the compound. “I don’t want to draw any more attention than we have to. We may need to come back for more equipment.”
Jenkins guided the Humvee to the front of an office advertising a trucking company on the door. He made a bootlegger’s turn, and then stopped the vehicle facing away from the entrance.
“Jenkins, you stay here.” Matt opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle, while Jake followed suit. They walked toward the glass door. Both men pulled their machetes from their scabbards. They studied the darkened interior of the Southwest Trucking logo.
Six trucks lined up on the side of the parking lot, each backed into a numbered space. Two truck cabs had been parked without trailers while three had refrigerated trailers, and the last one had an empty container trailer.
“Only one flatbed trailer in the lot. What now?” Jake asked.
“Take this one and hope we can find another trailer,” Matt answered, and then called out to Jenkins. “Drive around and see if you can find another trailer that we can load a container on. We’ll take an extra tractor.”
Jenkins shrugged. “Are you sure you want me to take off, sir?”
“You got a radio. Make sure it’s turned on and at full volume.” Matt reached behind the seat for a hand radio. He snapped it on his belt.
Jenkins pulled out slowly, and Matt caught up with Jake at the office door. “Well, let’s do this.”
Jake popped the door lock and with Matt cleared the front office. They found the owner’s office and browsed through the desk, papers and came up empty when it came to keys.
“Now what?” Jake asked.
“Keep looking,” Matt answered, as he crossed the room to look at the whiteboard. It listed trucks by unit number, destination, and stops between. He studied the shorthand and tried to work out the key to deciphering the code. Finally, he shrugged and followed Jake to the only other office in the unit.
Matt chuckled. Where the owner’s office was cluttered with stacks of newspapers, magazines, promotional material and a variety of business-related paperwork, the second office was a picture of efficiency. Another whiteboard sported truck information including a unit number, plates, service schedule and current trailer. To the left of each listing, hanging on small white plastic hooks were the keys.
“Which unit?” Matt asked.
“Unit two-o-seven has the trailer,” Jake called from the window. “Two-thirteen and two-seventeen are the ones without trailers. Two-thirteen looks to have been just serviced.”
“Let’s take two-o-seven and two-thirteen,” Matt answered.
He pushed the mic button and spoke into the unit, “Talk to me, Jenkins.”
“I’ve been driving around looking for trailers and found nothing so far, sir,” Jenkins answered.
Matt turned to the desk and scanned through an in-box until he found what he was looking for. He jammed the bill with an address on it in his pocket, “I got it. We take a side trip to pick up the second trailer we need.”
Matt clicked the mic and spoke again, “Jenkins, get back here. We’ve got something.”
Matt and Jake walked out of the office and headed to the appropriate vehicles. Jake pointed to an open lot behind the fencing. Two or three dozen infected had noticed the activity around the trucks and were stumbling toward the fencing.
“Why aren’t we seeing any live people?” Jake asked.
“Hiding out, I guess,” Matt answered. “Let’s get this done.”
Matt pulled himself into the truck without a trailer. He stuck the key in the ignition, and the tractor roared to life. He pressed the mic. “Good to go?” He got a thumbs-up from Jake when his tractor rumbled to life, while both Jenkins and Dreschel answered affirmatively.
“Jenkins, you’re in the lead. We’re going to a trailer storage site three streets over. Turn left on First Street, then look for a sign for Southwest Storage,” Matt ordered.
Chapter 5
The Bluff
Tate watched as Phil studied George’s oldest son. Finally, he turned back to the young man’s father. “What’s wrong with him? He’s sweating like a pig.”
“Nothing!” George answered. “He’s tired and hot just like the rest of us.”
John walked up to the gate and studied the young man, as he swayed on his feet. John turned back to Phil and whispered, “He’s got bit. Look at his right leg.”
Phil rolled his chair forward to take a closer look. He saw dark threads stretching up the young man’s leg from the waistband hanging at his knees.
“He can’t come in,” Phil announced, then rolled back to the line of family men.
The young man turned to his father with a questioning look.
“You and the boy can come in, but he can’t. He’ll turn,” Phil stated.
George pulled up his pants and fastened his belt. His shoulders slumped, and answered, “I can’t leave him all alone.” After a sob, he added, “Just take Jason.”
“Dad?” The younger boy jerked up his pants and cinched up his belt. “I want to go with you and Dell.”
“I can’t leave your brother. You’ll be safe here.”
John opened the gate wide enough for the boy to walk through. When Jason didn’t move, John looked at George with a shrug. George nodded.
John walked out and took Jason by the arm and led him through the barrier. “Come on boy.”
John closed the gate with a loud clank and the security latch engaged. George pulled Dell’s clothes back together and fastened his belt.
Jason walked up to the gate and wrapped both hands around the wrought iron. “Dad? Let me come with you.”
George pushed his older son toward the truck and turned back to Phil. “Take care of my boy. When this is over, I’ll be back, and Jason better be here.”
“He will be…unless we’re all gone,” Phil answered.
The F-150 pulled away amid a spray of gravel. The truck fishtailed until the gas was eased off so the driver could right the vehicle. It headed back down the narrow road toward the highway.
John led Jason toward the gathering of new arrivals while Bill, Doyle, and Tate walked up to Phil. Bill continued to stare at the gate. “I don’t like that prick, but I wouldn’t wish that on even him.”
“Nothing else to be done, I’m not letting an infected person in here.” Phil spun his chair around and headed toward the house calling out, “Ben!”
The boy ran up to him. “Yes, Uncle Phil.”
“Get up to the roost. Keep an eye on the road and Bandera Falls. I want to know if anything moves toward us, walking or riding.”
“Yes, sir. Can I take Jason with me?” Ben asked.
Phil nodded. “Do that. See that he’s fed and gets a shower first.”
“Yes, sir.” Ben disappeared into the house with Jason in tow.
Tate looked toward the new arrivals standing around their vehicles. Emma came rushing from the room with a tray of sandwiches and plastic bottles of water. She herded the new arrivals to picnic tables with several benches and lawn chairs in the shade under a massive oak tree. When they were settled and eating, Phil rolled up with his entourage.
“I know some of you, the rest I’ll get to know soon enough. We don’t have room for any more people in the house, but with your help, I think we can make arrangements that will be tolerable. In the meantime, everyone will be expected to help keep the place secure and forage food for everyone. All I ask is that you remember, you’re on my property, so what I say goes.”
One of the men looked as if he would protest, then thought better of it and gulped a swallow of water instead.
Clyde poked Tate with his elbow. “That bastard is gonna be a problem,” he whisp
ered.
Tate chuckled and whispered back, “Don’t think Phil is gonna be very tolerant.”
Phil turned around and motioned for his brother-in-law, Doyle and Tate, to follow. When they got to the house, he led them to a back room with a large desk. He rolled to his place behind the desk and motioned the others to find a seat.
Phil propped his elbows on the desk and rubbed at his temples.
John sighed. “What are we going to do with all these people?”
Phil laid his hands on the desk. “What we have to do. I won’t turn folks away.”
The small gathering spent the next hour making lists and prioritizing jobs. It was decided the three car garage would be cleaned out and the space used as living quarters until something better could be arranged. Sanitation would not be a problem since a fully functional apartment had been built at one end of the garage when Phil and Emma first moved to the bluff. They lived in the two-bedroom apartment with it’s full bathroom and kitchen while the house was being built.
“The FEMA trailers are going to be even more important now. People are going to get real tired of staying in the garage,” Tate commented. “Until the electricity went down, we all enjoyed the air conditioning, and it’s not even summer yet. It’s going to be a hot summer and people will be getting kinda hot inside that metal building.”
“I know,” Phil answered. “We got a lot of shit to worry about, that’s for sure.”
John nodded. “I would also suggest trimming back the brush around the fence.”
“I agree,” Phil answered. “But we have to get those trailers and more supplies in here first. We won’t have enough to feed all these people for very long.”
“The food situation is the priority. Is there a big box store anywhere close?” Tate asked.
“There’s a discount store outside Bandera and one in Boerne,” John answered.
“Alright. We settle folks in and then head out tomorrow,” Bill announced.
It was a long day settling the new arrivals into the garage. There was plenty of space, but in the end, it took an executive decision to decide who would take the two bedrooms in the garage apartment. Phil announced the older couple got one bedroom and the second would be used by the young couple with two young children.
