by Newman, AJ
Jon walked into a supply room and said, “Jill, it’s the motherlode.”
One of the shelves had several cases of the synthetic blood that had saved Jill and Jon’s lives several years back. They high-fived and took a full case of the synthetic blood and hid the rest of it. Jon filled a duffel bag with their newfound medical supplies and hid it and the blood inside an abandoned car.
Jon said, “There is a sporting goods store up ahead about a half-mile. Let’s get some protection.”
Jill said, “I agree, but let’s hurry. Barbara needs medical attention ASAP.”
Neither of them wanted to think about sacrificing their blood to save a stranger but knew it was the right thing to do. They kept their minds on surviving and surviving these days meant having guns for protection. They arrived behind the store and only saw a few skeletons and rotting bodies along the way. Jon tried the door and found it was locked. He kicked the door, and it didn’t open.
Jon said, “I don’t want to break the front glass because of the noise. Help me find a crowbar or something to pry the door open.”
The street and alley were spotless except for stranded cars and a few rotting bodies. Jon had to walk two blocks before finding the Ford dealership. He walked right into the maintenance bay and found several pry bars and took two back to the sporting goods store. Jill arrived a few minutes later, just in time to see Jon pop the door open.
“Come on, girl. Let’s go shopping and then get back to Barbara.”
The store had been scavenged several times, but with so few people left alive, there were plenty of weapons, ammo, and other supplies stacked everywhere in the store. Jon found a shopping cart and took it directly to the gun and hunting section. He found a Glock 17, plenty of ammunition, and ten magazines.
Jon said, “Here’s a Glock for you. Let’s keep the same guns, so we can use the same ammo and mags.”
Jill didn’t like Glocks but deferred to Jon while examining a 5.56 Bushmaster rifle. She said, “Jon, catch,” and pitched one of the rifles to Jon. He checked it out and said, “Good rifle. Let’s find a couple of pump shotguns and the same weapons for Barbara.”
Jill placed several of the Wise survival food cartons in her cart and threw in a case of Gatorade powdered drink mix. Then they dressed in the best outdoor clothes they could find. Jill found some she thought would fit Barbara. Jon found several nice hunting knives and several sharpening stones. They had weapons and two full carts of supplies. They were done shopping and now had to get back to the boathouse without being seen. They were lucky that day because the only people who saw them were too damned scared to harm them. Their trip back to pick up the synthetic blood and then on back to their hideout was uneventful but nerve racking. Every stray cat or dog frightened them, and they drew their pistols a dozen times on the way back to safety.
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Bo caught the scent of his friend in the air and pawed at the door to get out of the home. The people had found him alone and hungry. They used some Spam to trap him and then put him on a leash on the way back to their home. The old couple had lost their golden retriever just before the plague hit and thanked God for bringing Bo to them.
Bo had resigned himself to living with the kind people who fed him every day and brushed his fur; however, he wanted to find his friend. He howled and barked at the door all night and well into the next day until the old woman put the leash on him and opened the door. Bo lunged and pulled the lady off her feet as he tugged at the leash. He pulled her across the sidewalk and into the grass before she lost her grip on the rope. Bo ran away, leaving her scraped and bruised.
Chapter 21
Fairhope, Alabama – July 2038
Jon winced when Barbara stuck the needle in his arm. He saw the blood fill the clear plastic tube and turned his head away. Barbara was dehydrated, so her body welcomed the whole blood from Jon’s sacrifice. She’d also drained a pint of her blood before she began taking Jon’s blood into her system. Barbara started the synthetic blood flowing into Jon’s vein as soon as the first pint and a half of blood had been transferred. Jill and Jon were to give three pints of blood each to Barbara and receive synthetic blood to help them survive the blood loss. Barbara told them the six pints should be enough to stop the virus and save her life, but might not be enough to make her immune in the future.
Jon drank the orange juice concentrate and ate some cookies while he watched Jill donate her blood to Barbara. He was propped up in a recliner and frankly, needed the rest. The chocolate cookies were a bonus. Jill joined him in the big recliner when she had completed her donation. They were both weak after the process, and Jon wrapped his arm around her and fed cookies to her.
Barbara was worse off because she had to be the patient and the phlebotomist. She tried to hide her fear but shook through the entire process. She had to stick each of them several times before getting a good vein. She had done this many times to her subjects while drawing blood from the so-called immune people. She’d also watched them die when she was forced to take too much blood from them, in the name of science and saving the human race.
Jill fell asleep beside Jon in the recliner. She felt good against him but made him feel guilty because his girlfriend was out there somewhere, fending for herself if she was still alive. Jon couldn’t fall asleep, and a few hours later, it was his turn to stand watch. Nothing happened, but he swore he heard a dog howling in the distance. It reminded him of Bo and made him miss the mutt. Bo didn’t do much or say much, but he had been Jon’s conscious. An ugly look from Bo usually resulted in Jon changing his behavior. It often worked, but not every time, as evidenced by his drunken car wrecking episodes.
They took turns staying awake to pull guard duty for the next several days, but no one would admit they were afraid of dying in their sleep. Jon walked around the boathouse and then down the steps to the boat storage area. He’d seen the big old wooden boat before but saw the engine on a workbench across the room. He suddenly remembered he was supposed to be hiding. That damned light could be seen for miles. He’d told the others about not breaking light discipline and had even scolded the others for turning their flashlights on to go pee in the night.
He stayed up the rest of the night and allowed Barbara to get a good night’s sleep. Jon busied himself by hanging heavy blankets over all of the windows, so no one outside could see if they slipped up with their flashlights. He kept himself busy but thought about Cindy and his parents. Jon prayed his dad had thought to block the roads and prevent people from flooding Dauphin Island to escape the mainland. He tried to stay positive and think good thoughts about how Cindy, with her medical training, would help any sick or injured people in their community. His thoughts always turned to the worse, so he tried to hum his favorite tunes. That didn’t work because he could only remember the first verse.
The sun rose, and all the clouds from the previous few days were gone. The sun was bright and hot, even at breakfast time. Jon loved the smell of the ocean, and the slapping of the waves in the bay calmed him. He made breakfast from the goods in the pantry. He made a tuna casserole using a couple of cans of Sterno to heat the food and was proud of his accomplishment until he saw the looks on the girls’ faces as they chewed.
He watched them gulp down the food and grimace after each bite. “Is it really that bad?”
“Jon, maybe we should do the cooking. Tuna, mac and cheese, jalapenos, and spam aren’t made to go together. Our stomachs will be churning all day.”
Barbara quickly added, “Maybe he made up this awful concoction so he won’t have to cook anymore.”
They both laughed, and then Jill belched like a truck driver after eating boiled eggs from a truck stop with his bologna sandwich covered in mustard and onions.
Jon snickered. “Well, excuse you!”
Jill belched again and groaned, “This crap is tearing my stomach up. Jon, it’s not funny. We’re recovering from these transfusions, and you try to poison us.”
Jon was genu
inely astounded because his camping buddies always liked his cooking when they went on their week long excursions. He vowed the girls would starve before he cooked for their sorry asses again.
Jon politely said, “I’ll do all the manly stuff and leave the cooking to the barmaids and wenches.”
They looked at each other and gave him the finger.
John started to tell them the real reason they hated his meal. He thought, My meals tend to produce gas. Girls don’t fart in public. So, the bottom line is they avoid all of the great food in the world so they won’t accidentally break wind in front of someone, where guys make farting around a campfire a true and honorable sport. Girls just don’t want to have fun.
John kept his thoughts to himself as he continued to evaluate his new friends.
Time passed slowly that day since they didn’t have much strength, and the girls had to stay close to the toilet. They kept Jon busy fetching water to flush the toilet and other tasks they deemed ‘manly’ just to mess with him. They all felt better after Jill prepared a big pot of soup from canned goods she found in the main house’s pantry. Jon had to admit the soup was good, but he bitched about the women not having a refined palate like he and his buddies. Jon found some board games and started a game of Monopoly that kept them busy until Barbara had to begin their supper.
Barbara’s canned ham and crackers with canned baked beans, and canned cranberry sauce were okay with Jill and Barbara, but Jon held his nose while chewing every bite. They were almost done with supper when there was a scratching at the door facing the main house. Jon motioned for them to grab their guns and picked up his shotgun on the way to the door. The scratching became louder, and Jon tried to look out a window to see who was at the door. He couldn’t see anyone, so he went back to the door and opened it slightly.
The door flew open, and something knocked Jon to the ground. Both Jill and Barbara were ready to shoot when they saw the dog licking Jon’s face. Jon was overjoyed to see his friend and companion. “Hey, Bo, old buddy, where have you been?”
Bo sat on top of Jon and just cocked his head as usual before climbing down and lying beside him. Jon noticed the leash and said, “It looks like someone found you and adopted you. I hope you didn’t tear their house down in your escape.”
Jon rubbed Bo’s ears and sat with him the rest of the night before pulling the first stint at guard duty. Bo was good company at night but didn’t keep up his end of the conversation. Jon missed his lively conversations with Samantha. He knew she was a robot, but she was good company. Jon was startled once during the night when a patrol boat cruised by and shined its light on the boathouse. He peeked out a window and saw it was an old Navy ship, complete with deck guns and machine guns. It was larger than the old PT boats but smaller than a frigate. He said, “These must be the good guys since they shelled the CDC asshats.” Then he remembered that both could be the bad guys, so contacting them wasn’t an option. He told Jill about the small ship and warned her not to contact them or draw attention to their location before going to sleep.
The days passed slowly, and every time Jill and John gained some strength back, Barbara took another pint of blood and replaced it with the synthetic blood. Over the past two weeks, they had each given four pints of blood. This brought back memories of his stay in the hospital to Jon, which made him think more and more about Cindy. He kept his thoughts to himself about Cindy, but Jill and he swapped stories about their injuries and did show their scars to Barbara over some whiskey and warm coke. Jon only drank diet coke and cut the other two off after three drinks so they would be sober. Jon should have stopped them at two drinks because he now had two very sleepy ladies.
Around midnight, Jon tried to wake Jill without any luck. She snored loud and kept sleeping. Jon and Bo made their usual rounds and walked outside. They went up the bank to the home, making sure to stay in the shadows. Bo gave a low growl, but Jon didn’t see anything. He moved behind some bushes and saw a man dressed in black sneaking around the right side of the house. Jon was startled but placed his hand over Bo’s muzzle when another man joined the first.
The first man said, “Do you trust those CDC people? I don’t think we’ll get the vaccine when they finally make it.”
The second man said, “Who knows, but I like three square meals and a cot to sleep on every night. I also like being able to sleep without worrying about getting the plague.”
“But we have to find those survivors and rat them out to those CDC thugs.”
“I know, but it pays for our food and cot. I’m going to search the boathouse. Stay here and keep your eyes open.”
The man slowly walked toward the building where the girls slept. He walked around to the back of the home and headed down the path to the boathouse with Bo and Jon on his heels. He knew he had to come up from behind, place his hand over the man’s mouth, and slice the man’s throat with the man trying to yell and kill him. He actually shook as he got closer to the man.
Jon knew he couldn’t let the man enter the boathouse, so he lunged forward and tried to stick his hand over the man’s mouth. His timing was off, and he stuck three fingers into the man’s mouth as he jerked the guy’s head back. The man knew what came next, so he blocked the knife with his bare hand. Jon severed two of the man’s fingers, forcing the man to withdraw his hand. The thug bit Jon’s fingers, but the knife struck again, but this time with a stabbing motion. The blade cut the man’s vocal cords as well as his esophagus. Jon yanked hard on the knife and felt blood spurting out on his hand. The man struggled for another minute as his life pumped out and onto the ground. Red bubbles foamed and popped as he tried to breathe through the slashed throat. He made a soft gurgling sound and died while Bo stood beside him.
Jon ignored the pain from the bite and wiped his hands on his shirt to get a better grip on the knife. He took his newfound expertise around to the front of the home, where the other man sat on the front porch half asleep. This one was easy because Jon only had to sneak up on a sleeping man and take his time to improve the process. This time, he cupped his hand over the guy’s mouth and slit his throat in one motion. The man was dead before his eyes opened.
Jon dragged the bodies to a fancy yard barn and stuffed them behind a riding lawnmower. He placed a tarp over them and then soaked the tarp with some liquid lawn fertilizer to cover the smell of the decaying bodies. He tossed the plastic jug to the floor in the entrance, so anyone searching the yard barn would assume the bottle had spilled and made the awful smell.
Later, he saw the sun looking at him over the trees to the east. He took Bo in to join the ladies. He was bone-tired and sank down into the recliner. He was shaken that killing those men didn’t bother him. He was more worried about what could have happened to his friends if he hadn’t stopped the pukes. No one who would hunt innocent people to become sacrifices deserved to live. He ignored the pain in his fingers and fell into a deep sleep. Bo lay at his feet and growled when Barbara woke up and rushed to Jon’s side.
Chapter 22
Fairhope, Alabama – July 2038
“Jon! Jon, wake up! Jill, come and help, Jon’s been shot or something!”
Jon moaned and opened his bleary eyes. “Go away. I’m tired.”
Jill saw all of the blood covering his clothes and assumed he was delirious from the loss of blood. “Barbara, go get the synthetic blood and the transfusion stuff. We have to save Jon.”
Jon rose up enough to see his shirt and hands. He laughed so hard, he couldn’t catch his breath. “You shoulda seen the other two guys.”
Jon made a cutting motion across his neck, but Barbara interrupted before he could speak. “Jon, you’re out of your mind. Stay still so we can check your wounds.”
Barbara cut Jon’s shirt and pants off and was about to cut his underwear off, searching his body for the wounds. She started to cut his underwear when he chuckled and couldn’t contain his laughter. Jill exclaimed, “Wait a minute. He’s laughing. Stop. Jon, what happened? You’re not i
njured.”
Jon shook his head to clear out some cobwebs. “No, but I was enjoying the strip search. Barbara, you can continue if you want.”
Barbara stopped tugging at Jon’s underwear and said, “You bastard. You’re a pervert.”
Jon tried to talk without laughing. “Barbara, I tried to tell you several times, the blood isn’t mine. I stacked the donors in the yard barn. One of the asshats bit my hand while I was slitting his throat. That’s my only injury. Two men tried to search the place last night. Bo and I caught them and changed their minds. You can check my fingers. They hurt.”
Jill stamped her foot. “Why didn’t you clean up afterward instead of scaring the crap out of us?”
Jon grinned. “Well, at least I know you both care about me. Hey, killing those two men wore my ass out. I collapsed on the recliner.”
Barbara said, “So, killing people in cold blood wore you out?”
“Yes. Killing thugs in cold blood is dirty bastard work and wore my ass out. I saved your grouchy necks and felt proud of my new set of skills. Now, help me up. I’m going to take a dip in the water below and wash the blood off. We need to pack and be gone very soon before they miss those men.”
Jill asked, “Before who misses those men?”
“That corrupt CDC group. Those men were headhunters looking for test subjects.”
Before they left, Barbara took care of Jon’s fingers while Jill gathered some of their supplies. “Jon, you can be a sweetheart one minute and an asshole the next.”