JR calmed herself, then drove with her left hand and grabbed the CB radio handset. “Ha good buddies, this is JR Johns. What can you tell me about what’s going on out there?” The silence was unnerving for at least a full minute. JR glanced at Sam expectantly, then shrugged questioningly.
Finally, a male voice, “Good afternoon JR, Ragin Cajun here. If you ain’t heard the latest, it’s bad and gettin’ worse. Ain’t many trucks on the road cause most suppliers and warehouses are undermanned or shut down. I’ve got a load of produce to deliver to Chicago; then I’m running flat out south to Louisiana. From what I gathered in the last two days from drivers crisscrossin’ the country people are dyin’ by the millions. The army can’t even stop these damned stinkin’ things. I’m sure that ain’t what you was wantin’ to hear, but it’s the God’s truth and looks like it’s just goin’ to get worse. I hear most folks tryin to get away from these undead things are headin North to Canada. Me and my family are heading deep into the Louisiana swamp to escape these cursed things. Out there we’ll be in our element and have a fighting chance. Good luck to ya JR. Cajun out.”
Immediately, another voice came on. “JR, this is Ms. Ratchet Jaw. I’m coming east from Wyoming headed home to Michigan. Fuel supplies are shrinking fast, but most restaurants are still open if they have local suppliers. But those are going to be depleted in the next week. Traffic gets worse every day and drivers are acting like damn fools. Everything I’ve heard about the zombies mirrors what Ragin Cajun said. Like him I’m trying to get to my family so we can survive. Good luck girl, and may God watch over you. Ms. Ratchet Jaw out.”
JR and Sam’s eyes met. “Well, you called it pretty much right on. This is developing like you thought it would.”
“I only hit it right because I’ve been following the zombies overseas progress for months. Governments are too slow to make decisions and act forcefully. Bad things get out of hand fast while the politicians argue about what to do and which party gets credit or blame for any action. We’ve seen other instances of politician’s incompetence during virus pandemics and racial riots. The administration in power does what its advisors think is right while the opposition throws rocks and refuses to help. It’s amazing voters keep the same fools in office until they die even when they accomplish so little. I’ve always wondered if there really is a god; if there is, could this be its way of showing distain for the mess humans have made of earth?”
“Boy, you are really into some deep shit today, aren’t you? My mom was a lifelong Baptist; she really believed what the preacher said. Dad just popped a tab and scoffed at the idea of a spirit in spirit land watching over us and keeping a good place for those he judged as deserving. We girls were dragged to church services when we were little but quit as soon as we could make excuses to drop out. There were quite a few heated arguments and hurt feelings with mom over that. But without dad to back her up we won, stayed home, and slept in on Sundays.”
Sam chuckled. “It was about the same at our house. My parents went to the Presbyterian church until dad hit the road chasing pipeline jobs all over the Midwest.” Sam stared out the side window and was silent for long seconds. “I sometimes wondered if he was faithful to mom while he was gone. Things were said that made me think not. There were many loud arguments on the subject that I wasn’t supposed to hear. That was about the time mom gradually stopped attending church. She died a couple years later. Looking back, I suppose she lost faith in him and rejected religion for letting it happen.”
“How do you feel about him maybe fooling around?” JR’s voice barely carried across the cab as she stared straight ahead at the road waiting for his opinion.
Sam hesitated long moments as he glanced at the passing fields without seeing them, then finally said, “It’s difficult to face. I loved my dad and respected him on most levels. It’s understandable how and why people cheat when they’re lonely. Being alone with a bunch of guys can’t replace the affection of a wife or girlfriend. I don’t know. . . . Then over the past few years, I’ve often wondered if he took the traveling work so he could be away to fool around with other women. I don’t like to follow that line of thinking because it demeans his character as a husband. And when I deal with his perceived behavior honestly, I have to accept it demeans his image as a father too. He was a handsome, outgoing guy with a fit body and rugged looks and a line of bullshit women liked. After mom died, I paid more attention and saw how easily he charmed women and brought them home overnight. Sadly he didn’t wait very long after she passed before he was playing the field in earnest. I want to think he loved mom on some level, but I also think he was a confirmed honky-tonk man. I finally learned and accepted he was comfortable with cheap bars and cheap women. That makes it extremely hard to have a high level of respect for him overall.”
JR increased speed before signaling for the left lane. A motor home and a pickup pulling a large gooseneck trailer were on the right shoulder. As they passed, they witnessed two men wrestling on the ground throwing punches and two adult women pulling hair and kicking each other as several children stood by watching. The pickup’s front left fender was damaged.
They looked at each other, and JR shook her head as she changed lanes to slow to their normal speed to drive through North Platte and on to the north edge of the city.
JR said, “It’s a little past noon. Are you ready to drive again?” Sam nodded. “I’ll pull over at that truck stop up ahead to fuel, then you can take over. It must be open because the parking lot looks almost full even though the gas price is two and a half times what it was in Oklahoma. From here on you’ll have to pay cash as long as it’s accepted. When it’s not, what will you do?”
“Then we’ll barter with whatever they’ll take. We’ve got things we can do without, especially where we have multiple items of the same thing.“
“That was a quick stop, thirty-five minutes to eat and fuel. We’re getting good at this,” Sam said.
“It helps when you pump fuel while I order for you. Like most young guys you could live on cheeseburgers, fries, and a Coke or a beer.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Good food at a reasonable price; at least the prices used to be reasonable. I don’t know how much higher prices can rise before people revolt and refuse to pay the outrageous prices. But when you get right down to it, there’s not much choice: you can either pay the price or go hungry. Luckily we still have several thousand excess dollars to be rid of, so the high prices don’t affect us. We’ll likely have money left over even after the food and fuel supplies are exhausted.”
They rode without speaking for another hour. The radio played softly, the tires hummed, and a heavy breeze blew intermittently. Neither wanted to face up to Breyna’s plight as her condition deteriorated.
Finally, Sam said, “I’m worried about Breyna. She didn’t eat anything at breakfast, and she refused food again at the last stop.”
“I know. She’s content to just sit and stare . . . and she’s moving less and less too. Her body is cold against mine. I guess that’s part of the slow transition.”
Sam continued the thought, “Her eyes have a pink cast, and she shows no emotion; plus, I’ve noticed her lower jaw quivering. I hate to push this, but I’m positive she’s starting to turn. Her body is too cool. Unnaturally so. It’s much faster than I anticipated; her face and hands were splattered with zombie matter when we found her. I guess she may have ingested some of the zombie’s body fluids for it to be working this fast. We’ll have to do something soon before she turns. We can’t wait until she bites one of us. Can you handle that?”
JR silently nodded agreement, but a tear dribbled its way down her cheek. “Got to, no other choice,” she said. “Breyna was such a pleasant, curious child when we picked her up. I looked forward to raising her.” Her mind evaded dealing with the child’s future . . . or lack thereof. She’d never been big on religion. All that ‘God works in mysterious ways’ crap didn’t make a bit of sense to her. If there was an all knowing de
ity who was kind and benevolent, why the hell did it allow the zombies to strike down all humanity? And innocent children for god’s sake. All her life she’d seen images and reports of children being slaughtered in senseless wars and ‘police actions’. And now another innocent was going to die through no fault of its own.
Thirty minutes passed. Without looking at Sam she muttered, “There’s a turnoff a mile ahead to a county road, take it.”
“Wha. . . . He turned and saw the string of tears dribbling down JR’s cheek. She nodded. “It’s time, can’t put it off till it’s too late. I doubt there’ll be a definite sign just before she finally turns fully and transitions into a zombie and fulfills the urge to bite us. It has to be done, and now is the time.”
Sam slowed the truck and exited the highway east onto a two lane blacktop county road. Less than a mile later, JR said, “Turn around in that parking lot at the burned building ahead and park. This is as good as anyplace. It’s peaceful and quiet out here in the country.”
Sam parked, then walked around the truck, opened the passenger door, and reached to take Breyna.
“No!” JR said firmly. “While Breyna puts her best outfit on, will you get a shovel from the trailer and dig a deep hole in that field? We can’t leave her body in the weeds for animals to attack.”
Sam said. ‘I can do this alone. I’m not as attached as you are.” JR shook her head. “I caused it, so I'll end it. I made her my responsibility.” She and Breyna left the truck, and Sam shut the door behind them. As JR and Breyna entered the camper, he unlocked the trailer’s side door.
In the camper, JR resisted the urge to hug and kiss Breyna. Instead she sang an old lullaby she recalled her mother singing to her and her younger sister. “Hush, little baby, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird, and if that mockingbird don’t sing, Papa’s gonna buy you. . . .” The lyrics drifted away as JR fought to control her emotions. The child continued to stare blankly ahead oblivious to her surroundings and without any sign of human attachment. A frilly pink dress was draped over her. JR attempted to avoid looking directly at the child. With the pink dress and white patent leather dress shoes, Breyna looked ready to go to church. Or ready to meet God in heaven. JR stifled her sobs and dried her tears.
She gathered the child’s clothing before they left the trailer. They approached Sam at the edge of a field of weeds. Dirt was piled three-feet high on both sides of a three-feet-deep hole. Sam’s T-shirt was off, and his muscular torso glistened with sweat as he tossed dirt in a fast rhythm like a backhoe.
Breyna stared into the distance with her arms hanging at her side. She didn’t appear to notice the clear blue sky, the breeze blowing through her hair, the wildflowers, or hear the of numerous birds singing.
After scooping the loose soil from the bottom of the rectangular hole, Sam climbed out to stand by JR. Without looking at JR, he lifted Breyna down into the damp hole. Her head turned slightly toward his arm and her teeth clacked as her jaws chomped open and closed several times. She stood as if drugged or in a daze, oblivious to her surroundings.
JR’s voice broke as she said, “Lie down Breyna; it’s time for your nap . . . now close your eyes to go to sleep.
Breyna hesitated several seconds after each order but then complied.
JR held the Glock with both hands and sighted down the barrel at Breyna’s forehead. She moaned, and her right arm fell to her side. A look of despair shaped her features as Sam stepped beside her and laid his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do this. I will.”
She looked at him harshly. “You said I had to be responsible and pull my own weight. I’ll do it. I won’t have you think less of me because I’m acting like a weak willed, whiny woman.”
She straightened her back and her resolve, raised both arms, sighted, and quickly squeezed the trigger. The slender body in the hole didn’t quiver from the impact, nor open its eyes.
Sam reached for a shovel, “Wait. We’re not throwing dirt in her face. She at least deserves better than that.” JR knelt above Breyna’s head and dropped two threadbare bath towels over the prone corpse. Rising, JR grabbed the flat shovel and began filling the hole at a rapid pace. Sam worked a spade across from her. The body was barely covered when JR said, “I’ll get her things from the camper and strip the bedding we slept on. It could be infected too. It all needs to be burned.”
Sam added, “Burn the mattress too; we’ll find a new one.”
She took the sheets and the pad from the bed and put them with Breyna's clothing before she dragged the mattress out the narrow door.
In front of the derelict ruins, diesel fuel fed a fire as Sam finished backfilling the small grave. At the head of the grave, JR said the lord’s prayer, as best she remembered it, and then placed Breyna’s doll on the freshly disturbed earth. Without a word she headed for the truck with head bowed and arms clasping her body as if she was cold. Sam cleaned both shovels, then carried them to the trailer. Neither spoke as they drove back to the highway entrance to continue north with sad memories of a sweet little girl they’d both grown attached to.
At six thirty, dark clouds threatened as they approached the next fuel and food stop, JR again ordered Sam’s food while he pumped diesel. The truck stop was crowded at the pumps and inside the restaurant. Increased road traffic equated to more congestion at food and fuel stops Lightening raced to the ground, and thunder boomed in the far distance, but rain held off as the storm stayed north of them and blew from west to east. Servers and cashiers seemed to be in short supply, and a few were temperamental. Food orders were delivered at a slower pace than usual indicating a possible shortage of cooks and helpers in the kitchen too. JR accepted future service could only get worse as people finally grasped the enormity of the zombie invasion and attempted to escape. Only those with no means to flee would be left to fill jobs. And if they grasped the end was fast approaching, why would they show up for a menial job?
JR’s skin around her eyes was red and puffy from crying and dabbing at tears. After their orders came, they ate and finished in record time. They discovered neither had much appetite. It was JR’s turn to drive, but Sam said he felt good and would continue driving another two hours or so till dark when they’d stop for the night. Sam’s second cheeseburger and half of JR’s were saved for later.
Outside the restaurant, an employee chased a young, gray dog away from the entrance. She yelled and kicked at the malnourished pup without success. The border collie scurried away with its tail tucked between its legs, then fearfully returned when the young, overweight girl turned back to enter the building. The smell of food cooking was strong and irresistible.
JR approached the dog and squatted on the sidewalk. In a low, soft voice, “Come here pup, I have something for you.” She unwrapped both sandwiches, tossed the lettuce and tomato, wiped off the excess condiments, tore a piece off, and extended her arm. Two minutes of coaxing got the response she wanted. The dog’s head jutted forward and anxiously snatched the bit of food from her fingers before retreating several feet. Another piece was torn loose and offered. “Come on fella, come here.” The pup cautiously slinked to her and repeated its snatch and retreat action.
Several people chuckled good naturedly as they walked by. Sam stood patiently near the entrance doors twelve feet away smiling. Without uttering a word in leaving, he stepped back inside the building, but not into the restaurant.
With the last bit of food in its mouth, the dog stayed close enough for JR to stroke its long, gray and white hair. Sam stood five feet away when he spoke slowly and softly, “Here’s a bottle of water and two cold ham sandwiches. Hold the dog with one hand and stretch your right arm back. He moved slowly and placed a sandwich in her hand. The pup struggled during the transfer. Then Sam waited. Passing the second sandwich he asked, “So what’s his name going to be?”
She pondered that as the dog drank more water from her cupped palm. “Smokey fits him, don’t you think?”
Fifteen minutes la
ter, JR, Smokey, and Sam were exiting the parking lot heading north. The storm was closer; lightening flashed from the dark clouds and thunder boomed loudly close behind it. Smokey was still a pup but nearly full grown. He laid on the seat with the center console raised and was stretched out beside JR with his head on her lap. After being watered and well fed, he was asleep in minutes. JR stretched her left arm to lay her hand on Sam’s right arm as he drove. “Thank you. I guess I needed Smokey to sooth my maternal instincts after losing Breyna. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I pray to God I never again have to do anything approaching that.”
Sam nodded wistfully. “Me too. But maybe there is a God who works in strange ways; ya think? I hope you know border collies shed continually and need to be exercised hard daily. They don’t normally do well when confined and inactive.”
“I’ll keep your precious truck cleaner than it’s ever been, and we both need exercise after riding all day or we’ll soon be pudgy.”
“Yes, mother.”
They rode in silence until Sam said, “The experience with Breyna supports how I guessed the zombies crossed the oceans to arrive here. People who were contaminated by zombie matter on their hands may have absorbed it through their fingernails, cuticles, or cuts or scratches through the skin. That could be a much slower process. It might take several days or over a week for them to turn. Once they got off a plane and joined with family or friendly acquaintances, they might have been misdiagnosed with a common cold, the flue, or some minor infectious disease. As she was lowered into the grave, Breyna was snapping her teeth at my arm. She had almost completed the transition. Our timing was close, too close really.”
Running To Escape: A Sam & JR Zombie Thriller Page 7
