“When you can’t go back, what’s left but to go on?” Tom said.
Kaitlin started the engine. When they were two hundred yards from the barricade, the police car reversed into the gap, stopping with the engine facing them. Kaitlin kept going, her fingers tapping on the steering wheel, her eyes on the shadow of the driver in that police cruiser. One hundred yards from the barricade, she slammed her foot on the brake. They waited.
The driver of the police cruiser got out. It was a woman in civilian dress. She stood by the vehicle, one hand on the door, the other on the roof. A man walked from the tow-truck toward her.
“Only two of them,” Tom said.
“There’s three,” Kaitlin said. “Third one is in the tow-truck. In the cab.”
“You sure?” Helena asked.
“Positive. I saw the sunlight reflect from a scope.”
“You mean a sniper?” Helena asked.
“It might mean nothing,” Tom said. “I better go and have a word.” He leaned forward, putting the 9mm into his waistband. He smiled at the children, but couldn’t think of any believable words of comfort. “Get ready to reverse and get off the highway as quickly as you can.” He climbed out, walking away from the truck.
“Howdy,” he called at the man and woman, keeping his tone friendly and his smile wide. “Makes a change to see people. Living people, I mean.” He kept walking. “There’s been nothing but zombies for the last hundred miles.” He half turned around, waving back down the road. As he did so, he noticed the pieces of burned rubber and the scorch marks on the asphalt. He turned back to the two people, angling his path so that he stopped twenty yards from the woman, thirty from the man, and seventy from the tow-truck. “No, nothing but the dead. It’s terrible. Truly terrible.”
The woman stepped away from the cruiser. She had a pistol holstered at her belt, the button undone. The man was similarly armed, with his hands held braced on his hips.
“Where are you from?” the woman asked.
“Originally?” He decided this wasn’t the time for the truth. “The military camp at Providence.” He watched their expressions. Neither seemed to recognize the name. “A couple of hundred miles that way?” he added. “You know, part of the relief effort, get people off the roads and back inside? No? You guys don’t look military.”
“I’m Captain Hennessey,” the woman said. “This is Lieutenant Danvers. We’re police, and in charge of law and order in this county.”
“Have to keep the road clear,” Danvers added.
“Sure,” Tom said. The man’s statement begged the question of whom they were keeping the road clear for. Not wanting to feed him his lines, instead Tom asked, “You seen many zombies today?”
“Nope,” Danvers said. He was biting his lip almost as if he was trying not to smile.
“Well that’s something,” Tom said. “Maybe we’ve outrun them.” Now that he was closer, he could more clearly see the vehicles lining the highway beyond the police cruisers. A few looked damaged. A minivan and a pickup were both missing their front wheels. That sense of unease, of cautious paranoia that had been his constant companion for most of his adult life, was telling him this was all wrong. Three people weren’t enough to operate a roadblock. Any town nearby would want passing motorists to keep going. And then there was Danvers’s expression. The man seemed to be enjoying himself. No, this wasn’t some official police blockade, but a robbery.
“It’s a good thing you’re keeping the road clear,” Tom said, turning around, and taking a step to the side. He turned back, glancing at the tow truck. He couldn’t see the sniper. “We’ll need that if we’re to get everyone to the joint-government defensive works they’re building on the far side of the St Lawrence River up near Montreal. It sounds like our government’s working with the Canadians to draw a line and make a stand.”
“They are?” Danvers asked. “Where did you hear that?”
“On the military frequencies. Aren’t you listening to those? We’ve been in contact since we left. Most people flew, of course, but it’s easier to drive the trucks and tanks. You’ll need to move a few more cars so the military vehicles can get through.”
Danvers looked as if he was about to acquiesce. Hennessey didn’t.
“Ain’t seen any planes overhead,” she said. “How far behind you are these tanks.”
“A couple of miles,” Tom said.
“No. I don’t believe you,” Hennessey said. She turned to face the tow truck. Danvers’s hand moved toward his holster. Before Tom reached for his own weapon, there was a burst of gunfire. Bullets smacked into the tow-truck, riddling the paintwork. It was Kaitlin. There was no more time for thought. Tom dragged his gun clear of his belt, dropping to one knee. Hennessey had drawn her weapon. She managed one shot toward the fire truck before Tom fired. Hennessey fell. Tom shifted aim. Danvers was running. There was another burst from the truck, cutting him down.
Just as quickly as it had begun, the fire fight was over. Tom ran toward the bodies. Hennessey was dead. He kicked her gun away. Danvers gave a coughing hack, a bubbling rasp, and was still. Tom turned toward the tow-truck, but Kaitlin was already halfway there, the assault rifle raised. She reached it, took one look inside, and yelled, “Clear.”
She moved around the vehicle with a quick professionalism, obviously searching for any other members of this little gang. Tom doubted there were any. He walked back to the corpses, curious as to who these people really were. Starting with Hennessey, he searched her pockets until he found a wallet. In it was a photo I.D.
There was a chugging roar from the fire truck as Helena started the engine.
“Stop!” Kaitlin yelled, waving at the truck. Something was wrong, though Tom couldn’t tell quite what. Kaitlin ran across the road toward the truck. Helena turned the engine off. She stuck her head out of the cab.
“What?”
Kaitlin pointed at the roadway. Tom crossed over to the soldier. She was standing by a lump of broken tire.
“I’ve seen this before,” she said. “You see the edges? The tire didn’t break. It’s been cut.”
“Why?” Helena asked.
Tom knelt down and looked inside, knowing what he would find. “It’s an explosive. Remotely detonated.”
“Careful,” Kaitlin said as Tom gently removed it.
“Looks like an incendiary,” he said.
“You know explosives?” Kaitlin asked.
“I know enough to disarm this one. It was a childhood interest,” he added. “That explains the scorch marks on the road, and the damaged vehicles beyond the line of police cruisers. Set off the explosives, and destroy the tires, bringing any vehicle to a halt. That would make it easy to rob them.”
“Robbery?” Helena asked. “So they were thieves?”
“No.” Tom held out the I.D. he’d taken from the dead woman. “Captain Hennessey. She really was a cop.”
“The guy in the tow-truck didn’t have a rifle. The light was reflected from a pair of binoculars.” Kaitlin held up a phone. “It’s the detonator.”
The thieves’ horde – mostly food and a small amount of ammunition – was in a blue panel-van parked at the front of the line of disabled vehicles. To the side of the road beyond were the bodies. There were thirty-seven, rolled into a ditch.
“There’s a lesson here,” Tom said. “I’m not sure precisely what it is, except that each hour that passes, this world gets increasingly more dangerous.”
“We should leave that stuff,” Kaitlin said. “It might be booby-trapped. I don’t want to risk it, or waste any more time here.”
As she went to move the police cruiser, he found pen and paper, and left a note for anyone else who came that way.
“This vehicle may be booby trapped. The people here were using the police cruisers to stop people and rob them. We killed them.”
Chapter 8 - Shopping
Tioga County, Pennsylvania
“There’s a sign for a grocery store,” Luke said. “Can we
stop? We need toothbrushes.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Kaitlin said.
“We do need to refill the fuel tank,” Helena said softly. She’d taken over driving. It was a case of on-the-job-training that had made the last thirty miles a less than smooth experience.
“I think I’ve found the store on the satellite,” Tom said.
“We’re not going inside,” Kaitlin said. “I mean it.”
“What if there’s a delivery truck parked in a loading dock,” Tom said, passing the tablet over. “Do you see it?”
Kaitlin took the tablet and peered at the screen. “The truck might be empty.”
“It might be full of toys,” Luke said.
“We don’t need toys,” Soanna said.
“She has a point,” Kaitlin said. “Where’s the nearest town? How do you zoom out on this?”
Tom took the tablet back and zoomed out. “The town’s about five miles away. No smoke. No obvious signs of life. Not that that tells us much.”
Helena stopped the truck as the grocery store came into view. It was a low, one-floor building, with space for a hundred cars in the parking lot, though it was now almost empty.
“Yeah, you see the way those two cars are slewed across two parking bays? That matches the image exactly.” Tom said. “So there should be two vans and one rig parked out the back. Let’s check the fuel. See if we’ve enough diesel for two vehicles. If we don’t, then it’s academic.” He climbed out and waited until the door was closed before he spoke again. “I understand your reluctance,” he said.
“I don’t think you do,” Kaitlin said.
“We need more supplies. Assuming that everything is still in my cottage, then we’ve got enough for a little over a week. We’ll have to go out for more, and whether we do it in this truck or find some diesel-powered car, the engine will make a lot of noise. The zombies will hear. They’ll follow us back. We’ll have to fight. If we bring the supplies with us, we don’t have to go out again. Look, it’ll take twenty minutes to see what’s in those vehicles. There’re no zombies down by the store and none on this road. The kids will stay in the fire truck. Someone can stay with them. They won’t be at risk.”
“We do have enough fuel to bring another vehicle,” Helena said. “I say we do it.”
“It’s up to you,” Tom said.
“Fine,” Kaitlin said after a moment’s deliberation. “But just to check if there’s something actually useful in those vans.”
They parked the truck on the road by the entrance to the parking lot.
“I can’t see any monsters,” Luke said.
“You stay inside the cab,” Kaitlin said, getting out. “All of you.”
“We’re always inside,” Soanna said. “And I need to use the bathroom.”
“When I get back,” Kaitlin said.
Helena and Tom followed her outside.
“Fill up the tank,” Helena said.
“You’re going?” Tom asked.
“I want to talk to Kaitlin,” Helena said. “You can keep an eye on the kids. It’ll be good practice.”
“Just keep them inside the truck,” Kaitlin said.
The children stared at the two women walking across the parking lot. Then they turned their eyes to Tom. They all wore matching expressions of suspicious calculation. It was off-putting, so he turned away from the truck, taking in his surroundings. Except for the broken window at the front of the store, and the complete lack of traffic on the road, it looked much as it must have a month before.
As he began the laborious process of refueling the truck, he calculated how much fuel they’d used, and how much they’d need. He decided they had more than enough to get to the cottage. Did a fully laden delivery van weigh more or less than a fire truck? He wasn’t sure, but they should be able to get at least one van all the way there. Even if the van had to be left by the side of the road somewhere, they could go back and collect it at some later date. There were plenty of other grocery stores between them and the Atlantic coast, but each day that went by increased the chance that they’d be looted. Who’d notice another vehicle abandoned by the side of the road? It wasn’t just food they needed, but clothing, toiletries, bleach, tools, and… and the list was endless.
The tank was full. He replaced the cap. The one thing they wouldn’t find in the store was more fuel. He had a small stash at his cottage for his boat, which would stretch a lot further if they used it on land, but that would mean relying on sail if they took to sea. He sighed. Each solution begat a new problem.
“Perhaps you’re thinking too much,” he murmured. He walked back to the cab and opened the door.
“I hope you’re enjoying our road trip,” he said. “I guess we’re missing a dog, although I don’t suppose many of you have read Travels with Charley.”
Seven faces stared blankly back at him. Seven.
“Where’s Soanna?” he asked.
“She went shopping,” Luke said.
“Shh!” Amber hissed. “You weren’t meant to tell.”
“What do you mean, shopping?”
“For toothbrushes and stuff,” Luke said.
Tom scanned the parking lot. There was no sign of the girl, nor of Helena and Kaitlin.
“Stay here.” He closed the door and ran toward the store.
The two cars near the entrance were empty, their doors closed and windows intact. Someone had driven them here, so where were they? He should have thought of that before. Something far larger had been driven through the plate-glass window. The vehicle was gone. Had the car’s passengers left in that other vehicle?
Glass crunched as he stepped inside. Immediately in front were the registers. Beyond those were acres of shelves. Even accounting for the items on the floor, most of the store’s goods had been taken. From the way that the only untouched shelf in sight belonged to a display of winter soup mix, he guessed it was the locals.
A sound came from further inside the store. He raised the axe, lowering it slightly as he registered that noise as an old familiar one. He moved toward it as the sound resolved into the squeak of a trolley’s wheel. He rounded an aisle, and saw Soanna, pushing a trolley.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.
She jumped, spun around, and looked apologetic for a fraction of a second. Then she gave him a glare, swept an arm along the nearest shelf, knocking a row of shampoo into the trolley. “What does it look like? I’m shopping.”
The trolley was half-filled with a random assortment of toiletries, toothbrushes, and soap. He opened his mouth and closed it on the angry retort. It was the wrong reaction. The time when children could just be children was gone, at least for now.
“It was the people from the town who came here,” he said instead. “You saw how they left the soup behind? So everyone who came here had to know what it tasted like, and decided it wasn’t worth eating, even when there’s so little else. Has to be local people, and they had to have come together. It says a lot about the town and its hygiene that they left all the toiletries behind.”
“Yeah. I s’pose.”
“There was some toilet paper near the registers,” he said. “I say we get that, and then your trolley will have more in it than we have room for in the truck. Agreed?”
“Okay,” she said, clearly suspicious at his placatory tone.
“You’re the oldest,” he said, grabbing the trolley and pushing it along.
“You mean the others will copy me? They won’t. I told them to stay in the truck, so they will.”
“Right. Just like you did when Kaitlin told you? They look up to you, and you need to look out for them. Right now, they’re on their own, unguarded.”
“That’s your fault, not mine,” she said.
“How about we say that we’re both equally to blame, and that we’ve each got a lot to—” He stopped. He heard a sound, and now he was listening to it, he realized it had been there for some time. A clink of metal, then a bang of wood. Clink. Bang. Clink
. Bang. He turned around. It was coming from the rear of the store. At the far end of the aisle was a pair of double doors marked staff only. Through the handles on this side was a chain. The sound came when the doors were pushed, and the chain hit them.
“Quickly. Zombies. Must be trapped inside the storeroom.” Then he thought of Helena and Kaitlin. “Very quickly! Go!”
“But my trolley!”
“Leave it. No time.”
He pushed her in front of him, and almost straight into the arms of a zombie. Its clawing arms swiped over her head, catching in his coat. He slammed his palm against its chest. It was like hitting wood.
“Run! Run!” he bellowed.
Its mouth snapped down as he brought his forearm up, knocking its hand free of his coat. Its other arm slapped into his side. Tom staggered back, wincing with the pain. He punched and pushed, but the snapping mouth got nearer. He grabbed and twisted, and managed to throw the creature against the nearest bank of shelves. They collapsed, and it slipped, falling to one knee. He backed off, turned, and ran after Soanna. When he stepped outside, he remembered the pistol in his belt. He drew it, turned around, watching, waiting. He saw the zombie lumber past the registers. He raised the gun, backing off a step, and lowered the weapon. There was no point wasting ammo. He turned and ran. Soanna was almost at the truck, and past the point where Kaitlin crouched, rifle raised. He glanced again at the store. The zombie had reached the shattered window. It tripped as it tried to walk through the broken frame, slamming face first onto the ground. He jogged back to the truck.
“The delivery vans were empty,” Helena said as they drove back onto the highway.
“There wasn’t much left in the store,” Tom said. “It was stripped nearly bare.”
Kaitlin’s jaw was set. She said nothing. Nor did the children, and Tom couldn’t think of anything he wanted to say. It was Soanna who finally broke the silence.
“It wasn’t completely bare,” she said. She dug around in her pocket. “I got toothbrushes.” She held up three of them.
Chapter 9 - Caught
Here We Stand (Book 2): Divided (Surviving The Evacuation) Page 10
