Earth's Survivors Box Set [Books 1-7]

by Wendell G. Sweet

  “How can you not be sure of that?” Beth asked. “You sound like you don't know.”

  “No... I mean, yes. I know. I just didn't want to upset you, Beth. Billy had her over his shoulder.”

  Beth stared for a second, locking her eyes on Adam's. “Adam, just to keep things on the level. Don't sugar coat shit, just give it to me. Don't assume I can't handle it, I can...” She frowned deeply, but kept her eyes on his own.

  Adam nodded. “I don't know why I did that... Billy said they were fine, so maybe they are.”

  “Yeah, well, Billy tends to coddle me too, so he would never say if she was good or not.”

  “What do you think we should do,” Adam asked. “Dusk in a few hours.”

  “Yeah,” Beth nodded. “No sense in looking today. We aren't equipped. They have a strong hold there. Tomorrow we can start fresh... We have to go in, Adam. Billy, whether he's okay or not, would want us to go on... Finish this... That means going in. We should go in tomorrow.” She held his eyes.

  “We'll go, but tonight... Better to bring it fast and get it over with. They'll think they drove us off. Sneak back under cover of darkness... Make sense?”

  “Unfortunately it does,” Beth agreed. “We should go on foot. Leave the truck here. Their truck is likely shot. We have to have one able to get us out of here and back home.” She switched off the truck and slipped the key into her pocket.

  Ten minutes later Adam was easing the big barn doors shut to hide the truck. They started off down the trail at a fast trot trying to make it back to the river and the caves before nightfall so they could plan their attack.

  Fort Deposit Alabama

  Mike and Candace

  “This should be low tide,” Mike said as he stared up at the sky, eyes shaded by one hand.

  “Should be,” Ronnie agreed.

  They had spent the last few days observing the tides and working on the three trucks. They had found a garage a few miles back while they had been searching for tires to swap out the ones on the first truck. A rusted truck had sat on the cracked and Kudzu choked pavement. Wide mud tires on all four corners. A few minutes work had gotten it to run at a choppy idle.

  Ronnie and Mike had driven it out in to the Gulf themselves, ten miles on the odometer, but it had plowed along with no problem. The bottom was hard packed sand, not mud. The water at low tide was no more than a foot deep, at least where they had driven. It had been a good deal farther out to land, maybe twenty miles or better, maybe less than another ten: Distance over water was hard to tell, Ronnie had said. Mike had tended to agree with that statement. To him it looked like the land mass had gotten no bigger at all. He had begun to wonder if it would.

  They had stopped, debated, and then decided to drive back. They had little fuel, no boat in case it did get deep, and no idea how far they had to go. As far as the binoculars could show them, the water looked no more than a few inches deep.

  That had been four days ago. Their own trucks, now equipped with wider, aggressively tread mud tires should be able to drive right over the sandy bottom: Dig themselves out if they did bog down. The question was whether the drive to the land could be made in one low tide window. The deeper question he had asked himself more than once now was why? Why was it so important to reach a spit of land that was cut off from the mainland. Abandoned by nature to the ocean? And what would be there?

  He had no answer except a vague certainty that it would be safe. Safe from the gangs, safe from the dead, safe.

  Candace touched the back of his arm, he turned and smiled at her where she stood with Alice. Behind them, John was checking over the trailers they intended to tow behind the trucks with Jayne. They had picked up Jane back in Hayneville where they had found the tires and a still standing garage to do the work in. It had taken two days to break down the tires on all three trucks and swap them out with the new ones, using only jack handles, crow bars and a foot operated air pump. There had been no generators anywhere close by. On the way back they had nearly driven into a big one that had been left by the side of the highway. That generator was now attached to the third truck.

  They had met Jayne Singleton on the second day. She had stayed in hiding the first day and night watching them. Three men traveling with two women, it had looked all wrong to her, but by the second day she had decided to take the chance.

  She had seemed unsure at first, even after introducing herself, and so they had spent an extra hour feeling each other out: By the time they decided to head back to Fort Deposit, Jayne had been with them.

  There was no friction between any of them. They seemed to be able to work together as though they had known each other for years, Mike thought now as he lifted his eyes back to the sky. He looked back down at Ronnie and shrugged.

  “Let's do it,” Mike said aloud in the quiet afternoon sky. “Let's take a look.”

  Watertown New York

  Billy and Pearl

  The river road ran away in both directions. Pearl had come to as he had begun to run. She could not run fast, but she could run and that made their chances of getting away rise significantly Billy thought. He had eased them into the tree line and they had faded into the darkness there, traveling toward the outskirts of the city as quietly as they could.

  It would be full dark soon and that would hide them. It would also leave them wide open to attacks from the dead too, he thought sourly. He stepped from the trees and looked up and down the road. It appeared empty so he set out at a fast walk, staying close to the shadows. Almost immediately a figure stepped from the tree line less than a hundred feet in front of them. They both came to a quiet stop, each group waiting on the other.

  A kid, Billy saw. Or at least not much more than a kid. The kid spoke quietly into a hand held radio and Billy's heart sank. The words had been lost on him, but he heard a motor turn over and catch not far away. The motor settled into a low grumble and then revved slightly, growing louder as it neared them from the west, the end of River road that lead out of the city. Away from where the fight had been. Billy wondered if that meant there might be others coming at them from behind. He no sooner had the thought than the nose of a Ford pickup eased around the bend in River road a quarter mile away and coasted down to them. The truck shut off and two more kids stepped down to the asphalt in the silence that ensued. The three moved forward as a group.

  Pearl raised her rifle and pointed it at the lead kid. “That's it then.” She said.

  She didn't scream it, softly spoke it, Billy thought later, but the kid stopped in his tracks.

  “What's with the fuckin' guns?” The kid asked.

  “It's a rough world. We weren't looking for a fight, you bought it to us: As for the guns you had yours on us from the first we saw you. It only makes sense that we're going to put ours on you,” Billy said. He hoped he sounded as cool as Pearl had.

  'Bullshit,” one of the other kids said. “You had it in your hands when I looked at you. That's why I got mine ready. And you're the ones that was shooting us up a while ago, right?”

  “I don't want to kill anyone today,” Pearl said.

  “Oh, you don't want to kill anyone today. La dee dah. Big fucking deal,” The third kid said, imitating her accent. His eyes were blood shot. His face was lacerated, probably from the ambush. He kept rubbing at his cheek, Pearl saw.

  Pearl sighed, flicked her safety off and aimed it at the kid that had spoken. “I think you're right, mate. It can't matter if I shoot you... Just another big fucking deal done with,” Pearl said.

  “Hey,“ the lead kid said, “You came into our town.”

  “Must have missed the sign then,” Pearl said.

  “Pretty funny,” the kid responded. “Look... It's our city. We ain't the only ones here. You shoot there will be more here in seconds. Then everybody dies.”

  “If you have to make it that way, then it has to be that way,” Pearl said. “I can see a way out for all of us,” she shrugged. “You have to want it though.”

  Th
e one in the back, the one with the red eyes, swiped at his cheek and his eyes reflexively slipped shut for a split second from the pain. Pearl shot the lead kid in that split second. He flipped backwards like a rag doll. Billy shot the second guy a split second later. The third kid opened his eyes and blinked hard.

  “Still ready to die?” Pearl asked. “Just give me a reason, any reason.” The kid released the rifle he held and it dropped from his hands, clattering loudly as it hit the pavement.

  “Can't shoot me I'm unarmed...” He spun and looked off toward the opposite end of River road. He turned back to Billy and Pearl. “Can't shoot me... I ain't armed... Can't...” Billy shot him.

  “Christ,” Pearl said. “What method of warfare is that?”

  “The shoot first and ask questions later method,” Billy said sadly, as he herded her toward the truck where it sat at the edge of the roadway. “Been down this road before. It is what it is.”

  A second later the truck roared to life and Billy spun the wheel hard heading west down River road and the outskirts of the city.

  Pearl bounced around the cab and smacked her head hard enough on the windshield to star the glass when the truck left the pavement at better than fifty miles an hour and hit an area of hard packed dirt from a wash out. She finally got her balance, swept one hand across her forehead, looked at the blood and cursed lightly. She fixed her eyes on the road behind them. Three trucks had rounded the curve in River road that lead to the cave and were running hard to catch them.

  “Company, love.” Pearl told him as she settled against the seat back and tried to open the old sliding window. “Jammed,” she muttered.

  “Fuck me,” Billy said. He pushed the pedal to the floor, there was nothing else for it. The glass in the back window starred a second later as Pearl rammed the rifle stock into it. Another hit and the glass fell out into the pickup bed area. She raised the rifle and began to fire back at the trucks. A second later a hole punched through the windshield to Billy's left. He mashed the pedal harder into the floorboard feeling the truck skate across the washed out sections of the road as the truck flew beside the river. Far ahead two trucks were pulled nose to nose across the road. There was no way past them without going into the river. A bridge that would take them to the north side was coming up fast. Cars appeared to clog it, spaced purposely to close it off.

  “Billy,” Pearl called. “We have to get north, the other side of this river. If they squeeze us south we'll be in the damn downtown and they'll have us,” Pearl yelled above the scream of the engine. “I know that area!”

  “There's cars up there,” Billy yelled back. “On the bridge! Blocking it!”

  “There are bullets down here and they are gaining on us,” Pearl yelled back.

  “Better sit down,” Billy yelled.

  “Just do it, Billy!” She continued to fire out the back window.

  Billy turned the wheel hard right and the truck lurched hard to the left, threatening to roll over as the center of gravity changed. It nearly rolled before it hit the edge of the pavement, broke over, and then became airborne. It came within ten feet of a bridge abutment and skirted the front of a wrecked mini van as it came down on the bridge surface. It hit the front fender of a small car and sent it spinning.

  The truck landed in the middle of the span, Billy punched the gas and they flew toward the other end of the span and a small hill that climbed away from it on the other side. A police cruiser, placed purposely to block the road, went spinning as they clipped one corner of the rear end, and then they plunged off the other side of the bridge so smoothly that Billy couldn't believe they had actually landed.

  “Nearly broke my neck slamming it into the ceiling,” Pearl yelled. She fell silent. “I...” She started, but an explosion from the bridge stopped her words.

  Billy locked up the brakes and the trucked slewed around, finally stopping in a cloud of blue rubber smoke and a low squall as the tires hopped across the pavement. They stared back at the bridge from the first rise of the small hill.

  The opposite end of the bridge was a mass of flames climbing into the darkening sky. “They hit that abutment,” Billy screamed. “Has to be.” He watched as something exploded on that end of the bridge and a fireball lifted into the sky. Black smoke was billowing into the air.

  “Get it going and keep it floored, Billy. Keep it floored.” She stayed where she was, staring out the back window, knees driven into the seat top. Billy floored the gas, the truck lurched to the left and then snapped back to the road, turning in a half circle and once more pointing away from the bridge. They watched the jumbled pavement fly by as they climbed the short hill.

  “This is taking us north,” Billy said. He had no sooner said it than the truck hit the slight rise and flew across it.

  'Back roads!” Pearl yelled.

  “I don't know the back roads,” Billy said. “But we have to get off this main road... Hide somewhere.”

  She was trying her best to hang on as the truck bounced and tilted. One hand clutching the seat back held her in a somewhat stable position as she watched the fallen down houses slip by. “Billy, it looks like all streets, but there are back roads farther out, Billy. I remember... Farms, back roads... Bad shape even then, so you may have to look hard, but you must find them.” She managed to get turned completely around and sat down holding the dash to stay steady. “They must have hit the van too, or each other. Whatever it was, I don't think they will feel like coming after us for a bit.”

  Billy said nothing. Pearl went back to watching the road.

  “Billy... Take the next road that crosses, and let us start looking for a place to hide for the night.”

  Billy slowed the truck and took the next right, east. Pearl watched the road as the overgrown fields slipped by. “Pull into that big place on the right. If we can't get in by the building, we can park alongside and that should hide us from the road...”

  Billy drove them to the leaning building, a farm machinery business the fallen sign proclaimed, and continued down the length of the building into the tall weeds. Billy saw no dead as he pulled deeply into the overgrown brush at the side of the building so he shut it down. The silence held for a few moments as Billy checked Pearl's head over. There was a shallow cut just above the hairline. He taped it closed after cleaning it with some alcohol swabs from their first aid kit.

  “What now,” Billy asked. He tried to look outside into the gloom; he saw nothing but the clouded moon far above them.

  “Come here,” Pearl said. She pulled him down to the seat and a second later she was lying beside him. He pulled her closer.

  “We need sleep, Billy,” Pearl said quietly. “Regardless of what has happened, we need sleep to be sharp.”

  “I can't sleep, Pearl. I'm too keyed up.” He pulled her closer, inhaled her scent, tried to fold her into him. She stroked the back of his head, her fingers found his neck and massaged lightly.

  “I don't want to sleep, Pearl,” Billy protested.

  “Let it happen, Billy. Let it happen.” She stretched out her legs, angled them across to the drivers side floorboard, and leaned back into the door, he shifted forward, his head on her breast. The last thing she remembered was smoothing the hair out of his eyes and then she slipped away.

  The Alabama Gulf

  Mike and Candace

  They were past the point they had traveled to previously, 12 miles on the odometers. Twice now they had crossed deeper sections where the trucks had slipped down into the water driving slowly across the sandy bottom, water nearing the tops of the door-sills. The island was closer, but the sun was setting and soon the tides would be changing, rising. Mike picked up the radio handset as he coasted to a stop.

  “A few more hours... By midnight we'll be in high tide... From now on out it will be rising.” He didn't ask the question.

  “I say keep going,” Ronnie answered after a few moments of silence.

  “No sense in stopping,” John said a brief second later. �
�Jayne says so too.”

  “Well, except we can't swim,” Mike said half joking.

  The silence held a few beats. “That's why we have the boats,” Alice answered with a laugh.

  Mike re-set the handset and dropped the truck into gear. He was making maybe three miles an hour tops, with darkness coming it would be even harder to see into the water. He shifted back out of drive.

  “I think I'm going to ride the hood... sounds crazy, I guess. But I think we can make better time... I can let you know to slow up if anything looks funny, bad,” he shrugged.

  “Does that mean you aren't sure, because it sounds like a plan to me,” Candace said. Mike smiled as he leaned forward and kissed her. A few minutes later he was on the hood: One wet foot for his troubles. He looked behind him and saw Ronnie climb out on his own hood.

  “No way are you getting all the fun,” Ronnie called. He scrambles up onto the roof of the truck and Mike followed suit. A few moments later they were traveling through the shallow salt water. Mike lowered his hand and moved it in a forward motion. A few moments later he gave the okay sign, and leaned across to the drivers window.

  “What is that? Speed wise?”

  “Ten, a little less, maybe,” Candace told him.

  “Ten it is,” Mike said. He sat up straight once more and watched the small waves as they seemed to roll toward the truck. With the tide beginning to turn he supposed that was exactly what they were doing. His eyes shifted to the island, which now seemed to take up a much larger space on the horizon. His eyes returned to the water shifting from side to side and ahead. Not long now, he thought. Not long.

  Watertown New York

  Adam and Beth

  Adam crept quietly along the tree line following Beth.

  They had nearly stopped and gone back an hour before when a huge explosion had rocked the quiet afternoon. Flames high in the sky ahead of them. They had watched as a fireball had climbed into the late afternoon sky. The flames fell off, below tree level, but they had watched greasy, black smoke continue to rise into the sky until the sun set and they could no longer see it. Even so they could smell hot metal, and the roast pork smell they had smelled far too often that meant someone had been burned alive in the explosion and fire they had seen. The odors were heavy on the air and they had wondered to each other in whispers if the explosion had come from the south side of the river, even the cave they had been heading to when things had turned bad. They were close enough now that they could see the flames once more, still burning, a quarter mile or more away from where they were, and clearly not on this side of the river.