Eschaton (The Scott Pfeiffer Story Book 1)

by Shane Woods

  Before Bri had any further time to explain, Jennifer found us.

  “You two about done?” she asked. “Shannon’s down on Floor Two with the rest of the work crew now.”

  “Christ, do I want to know?” I said with a laugh.

  “Actually,” Jennifer began, “she’s got some pretty good ideas going on. Come on!”

  “You guys have fun!” Bri called after us as I was led to the stairs again.

  The damned stairs. Okay, we were going down this time, but I’m deciding on quitting smoking. It’s happening, especially in a world with no elevators.

  We made it to Floor Two, and it was a beehive of activity. Shannon had managed to sequester pretty much anybody that wasn’t already working upstairs or out with Henry in the garage. People were moving in all directions, some carrying things, others on their way to move more things around, some cutting through walls and a couple making marks in chalk lines on the carpet.

  “What the hell?” I asked, amazed at all the movement.

  As if on cue, Shannon appeared, grabbing me and Jennifer by the arms and leading us to a quiet corner.

  “Okay, first,” she began, “sorry I didn’t run all this by you first, but you’ve got to hear it, then yell at me if you think you want to. But, I think you’ll be okay with this. Maybe. I don’t know, but-”

  “Shannon!” I cut her off, this girl was like a squirrel, moving a million miles a second. “Just chill, breathe, and give me the details. One thing at a time.”

  “Okay, okay,” she replied, taking in a breath, then, “we are making the second floor an intake for new members. A waiting room in the first apartment on the right, and an exam room in the first one on the left. Since there’s going to be three of us in medicine-”

  “Three?” I cut her off again.

  “Well, yeah, I’ve got some background, Ashley, and, well…” and she motioned to Jennifer, who added her own information.

  “I’m, well, they found some medical journals and textbooks,” she began, “and I’m going to learn on the fly. I can at least assist them, and they’re learning more advanced medicine than they already know, like emergency care and stuff.”

  “Oh, uhhhh okay then,” I said uncertainly, unsure of how to respond. “Okay Shannon, let’s hear the rest.”

  She beamed. I had the feeling she exhibited both pride, and relief that she wasn’t getting chewed out in that smile. Am I really that bad? Maybe she’s just being cautious, just in case I am, I thought.

  “Okay, where was I?” Shannon asked to nobody in particular. “Oh! Right, okay! Waiting room and exam. And the rest of the space we are breaking into smaller rooms, making the walls double thick, strong doors, and using them for quarantine.”

  I eyed her questioningly.

  “You know,” she recovered, “in case anyone is sick with something bad, like the flu, or we think they might turn.”

  “Makes sense,” I replied. “Maybe give the first floor the same treatment when you guys are done, but with stronger walls and doors. We could turn them into security rooms in case we have any major issues with anyone.”

  “Like a jail?” Jennifer asked.

  “Who’s going to jail?” Henry asked, his concerned expression showing as he approached.

  “Nobody hopefully,” I replied with a laugh. “What’s up, boss, you making good progress out there?”

  “Oh, brother we done for the day,” he advised. “I was coming to tell you that we are going out with the truck to get the electrical things. I found a flare gun in one of the vehicles, we’ll signal if we need help.”

  “Sounds good man,” I said. “Be careful, be quick. Remember, half on security, half on work. When you come back, we’ll have another town meeting. I’ve got some ideas regarding those things out there we should all discuss.”

  A town meeting. Town. Now that’s an interesting thought.

  “Okay, take care brother,” Henry said as he turned to leave.

  “Yeah, you too man,” I replied, then turned back to the ladies. “Yeah, like a jail, kind of. Maybe even a place to restrain some infected, in case y’all feel adventurous enough to do some testing sometime.”

  Jennifer looked appalled, like I was insane for even mentioning it. Shannon, on the other hand, replied with mild enthusiasm and curiosity.

  “That might actually be very helpful! Good thinking! Anyway, we’ve got more plans here,” she continued as Jennifer began mulling over things in her head. “I want to turn the whole third floor into a miniature hospital. We could do one room as a basic exam room, another with beds for major work, like surgery or severe injuries. The rest can be long term recovery rooms, and one apartment barred off and locked up tight for storage of anything medical.”

  “Sounds good to me, really,” I encouraged her. “Anything you need, write it down, give it to Bri. She’s officially in charge of all of our supply handling, she can pass the message on to where it needs to go and make sure anyone who goes to scavenge will keep their eyes open.”

  “Okay!” she replied, that damn smile shining brightly. “Thanks, Scott!”

  “Yup,” I replied in kind. “Now, we’re going to go to the south building to check on Carolyn and the kids, and get Gwen to come home for some food.”

  “Awe she’s such a cutie,” Shannon replied, “see you later!”

  Jennifer and I departed, went down to the first floor and out into the bright sun and early summer warmth. It had turned into a very pleasant day, weather wise. In all the hustle of everything going on inside, I had nearly pushed the earlier events out of my mind.

  We approached the south building in silence, Jennifer still mulling things over regarding work in the north building, myself thinking over the mess of infected so close to home. We entered the main doors and went straight to the second floor. Nobody used the first floor, not after we got trapped by those things in a hallway full of places for them to flank us. We had become as apes, everyone feeling safer the further from ground level they could get. I don’t blame them. I kind of did, too, and for that reason I was happy our apartment was the only one on the top floor by the security center.

  We made our way into the second floor hallway, where Carolyn had every child in the compound under age 10 running and laughing as they sprinted the length of the space.

  Little Gwen ran part way down and stopped to turn as if to remember what she was doing, and spotted her mother and I. So, she instead made a beeline right for us. Jennifer held her arms out, Gwen let out a loud “DA!” and latched onto my legs. Seeing the jealousy in Jennifer’s eyes, I picked Gwen up and handed her to my wife.

  “You are taking her?” Carolyn asked, smiling at Gwen.

  “Yeah, I’m due for a break, Jennifer’s got her covered for the rest of the day. She’s been no trouble?”

  “No! No no she’s great for me!” Carolyn replied. “I just wish we had more for them to do. I have them run around, I’d try hide and seek but the little ones just don’t understand.”

  “Get a list, bring it up to supply, we’ll put in the request through Bri,” I said, then realizing, “Actually, Bri is going to have a ton to do, and lots to track. Maybe, if you’re not watching kids and have nothing to cover, see if she needs a hand with things? I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

  “Yeah, okay!” Carolyn agreed. “I would like to help, and get to know more people.”

  “Well, there you go!” I smiled encouragingly. “Alright Carolyn, you’re doing great, and, thank you. We’re off again!”

  “Okay!” she said cheerily. “See you!”

  We left, and made our way towards our building again, when Jennifer stopped with Gwen.

  “It’s a nice day out,” she smiled, setting the little girl down. “I’m going to let her run off some more energy out here. You going up for lunch?”

  “Yeah,” I confirmed. “Yeah I think I’ll scavenge something up.”

  “Okay,” she said, giving me a kiss. “Love you. We’ll be up later.”r />
  “Love you too,” I said, returning the kiss, and turned to walk away.

  TWENTY

  Back upstairs, once again breathing heavy from more stairs than I was accustomed to, I disappeared into our apartment, closing the door behind me once I was sure it had nobody inside. Time for some peace and quiet.

  I grabbed a cigar from my small humidor. I wasn’t about to leave the house without my full supply of cheap Dominicans. Shoving the cigar, a cutter, and my torch lighter in my pocket, I moved to the back bedroom. After rummaging in one of the boxes we had stashed under the bed, I found what I was looking for. The prize of all prizes. My personal treat to…well, to myself.

  Menu Number Ten MRE. Chili Mac. Hey, unless you’ve tried it, you have no idea what kind of wonderful things one of these compact light brown vacuum bags can give you, especially if you’re hungry and finer dining isn’t an option. A hot, usually tasty meal so long as you have ten minutes and a bottle of water. Just don’t eat too many of these for too many days in a row if you like your digestive system.

  Don’t ask.

  Just trust me.

  I shoved the food bag under my arm and refilled my cup with the last of the cold brewed coffee and grabbed two bottles of water from the kitchen cabinet.

  Moving through the sliding door of the apartment and onto the balcony, and, thankful there was no wind at the moment, I found a deck chair and cringed as it creaked when my weight rested on it.

  Now for the surprise. Okay, look, what is on the front of the MRE is guaranteed. What else in there is not, aside from a bag with a heavy green plastic spoon, salt, pepper, toilet paper, and a chemical heater for your main course and coffee.

  I pulled out the main course and grabbed the chemical heater. Adding water to the line on the heater, I slid it and the food pouch into the cardboard sleeve and leaned them at an angle against the bottom of the balcony railing. The instructions, very specific, state to lean it “against a rock or something”. So, this is my ‘or something’, I guess.

  Digging through the bag, I realized I’d grabbed the king’s feast of all Meal-Ready-Eat packages. A bag of Skittles dated only eight years ago. A pack of plain dry crackers. And the real treats; a vacuum bag with a small slab of marble cake, a pack of Jalapeno cheese spread, and a resealable bag of French Vanilla Cappuccino powder. Nice! Today was a good day.

  After organizing my haul in front of me, I checked and found the main course to be warm, and ready to eat, so I added some water to the coffee mix and replaced the main course with that to let it heat up. Hot coffee coming soon. Only guy in town with any, I was sure.

  I poured the contents of a pack labeled ‘hot pepper seasoning’ into the bag of chili mac, mixed it around, and let my mind wander as I took the first bite.

  I began thinking about Melissa, growing numb as I did. She was only my stepdaughter, but I loved her as my own. The wound from losing her so brutally was way too fresh. I’d stayed as busy as I could to avoid thinking about her, though I could never be sure if Jennifer found the same success in her endeavors to do the same. My wife seemed so different after Melissa passed, but she never talked about it.

  Thankfully, thoughts of Melissa turned towards happy memories this time, as opposed to the sadness that had been causing me to fall asleep nearly every night with a single tear streaking away to make friends with my pillow.

  I thought back to Christmas time. My parents lived in Kansas City, but they’d make the journey out here to Ohio every Christmas. That was one holiday us Pfeiffer’s ritualistically spent together at all costs.

  We never had much until I got into my recently lost career of hauling freight around my portion of the United States. Then the money started coming in, and we always laughed inwardly as my mother and father would scold us for going overboard. We’d tell them every time, looking at the pile of gifts that would, some years, all but hide our six-foot-tall plastic tree, that we’d always felt bad. We never had much and struggled to give even a little while we received and received. Now, it was our turn.

  The older I’d get, the less I’d care about getting as opposed to giving. I was overjoyed to see the smiles on my family members’ faces as they opened perfect gift after perfect gift. I was a Thanksgiving giver, meaning, I’d give until the whole family was too stuffed with goodness to move. I lived for it.

  It was also the only time of the year we ever actually decorated the house. Inside and out, decorations and lights everywhere. Each thing meticulously positioned to compliment the next, but never overdone. Unfortunately, we never had a fireplace to finish the effect. So, instead, we’d put Fireplace on Demand on our 65-inch TV and accept that it was as good as it gets.

  Damn I missed my big screen now.

  As I continued thinking about the wife, kids, and my parents smiling happily, laughing at gag gifts, and just all around carrying on in joyous fashion, I pushed the last bite of my meal, the marble cake, into my mouth. I leaned back, snipped the shoulder of my cigar, and just as I touched the flame of the lighter to it, I heard a gunshot off in the distance.

  I finished lighting the stick of tobacco and heard a few more rifle pops. No sooner had I turned my head to try to track their location, I heard another softer pop and watched as the glowing red visage of a flare rose up into the air in a lazy arc. Then the general area of our scavenging party erupted into bursts and pops of gunfire as I heard the sound of the truck’s engine racing. I stood up and could just make out the shapes, blocks away, of a few vehicles rushing our way, picking up speed as they approached.

  “Trouble!” I shouted down to the small groups in the courtyard. “Fuck! Get the kids inside, get guns, and for fuck’s sake, open the gate!”

  People began rushing around in every direction as a couple made their way to the gate and began sliding it open on its rollers.

  I threw my cigar down and bolted through the open door, grabbing my pump shotgun off the kitchen table as I ran by, then down the hallway to take the stairs two and three at a time on my way down to the ground floor. Rounding the corner of the doorway and down the hall as fast as my feet could carry me, I took one final left, and exited the building just as a pale blue Toyota Prius came barreling nearly sideways through the open gate, breaking right to allow its passengers to disgorge from the vehicle as Dave provided the others cover, sitting on the sill of his car window and firing bursts from the AK-47 over the roof.

  Next came the truck and trailer, Chris and Carla hanging precariously onto the loading ramp as they fired behind them, their pursuers finally coming into view as I ran toward the scene.

  It was definitely the horde from earlier that day, the worn and tattered mailman leading the way, twisting and plowing the street with his face as a burst from Dave’s rifle shredded his chest and neck, a couple of the rounds punching through to slam into the runner behind him. Fuck they were thick, there was easily 40 runners coming into view as the truck blew through the open space between gate and wall, the trailer weaving and swaying precariously, nearly dumping its passengers to the ground.

  The third and final vehicle made its approach, another Prius, this one maroon in color. At the last second, it weaved into a Scandinavian flick and slide dead sideways, hitting the gate and wall and creating a blockage for the runners as the driver’s door was flung open and Tony came scrambling out, loosing shots over his shoulder as the passenger window exploded inward when a freak dove headlong into the glass. That infected fell on impact, but the gap allowed another to dive through, and it fought for purchase frantically as Tony stumbled out an escape from the vehicle.

  I approached just as the runner burst from the driver’s side of the vehicle. It stopped long enough to arch its back, palms out, face to the sky, and let out a horrendous shriek of rage and hunger.

  “DUCK!” I screamed at Tony.

  He hit the ground without a thought, and, as the freak dropped to all fours behind him, I dumped a full load of three-inch double-ought buckshot, peppering the monstrosity across t
he face and shoulders. The force of the impact jerked it back as pellets ripped through and into the hybrid that birthed it, spraying blood and tissue like confetti from a T-shirt cannon. I worked the pump and launched another load of death through the car’s interior as another freak fell, blocking their way through the vehicle.

  Everybody else present opened fire as monsters began impacting the gate and wall at a dead run, each hit shaking the structures violently.

  “CLOSE THE GATE! CLOSE THE FUCKING GATE!!!” I bellowed over the charge of withering gunfire as more hell spawn was shredded by lead and copper from the assortment of weapons present.

  Several people grabbed the gate and rammed it home, Dave joining and driving the locking bars into place right before he fed the Russian rifle another magazine and let out a long burst into the last 15 infected around, the others joining him, and myself as well, as my shotgun dug in with every blast, surely leaving lasting bruises in the meat of my shoulder.

  Within moments the last few enemies fell in showers of gore as each one that dropped brought more guns to sight in on whoever was left. Then I began to take charge of the aftermath.

  “Is everyone here? Anyone hurt?” I asked around to a concert of wide-eyed people. What I heard next made my heart sink nearly to my knees.

  “Wayne?” Clara shouted. “Has anybody seen Wayne?”

  “Shit,” I muttered, then I also shouted, “Wayne! You here? You good?”

  To my relief, I felt a presence approaching behind me, and heard Wayne’s voice asking me why I was yelling, he’s right here. Okay, cool, one crisis averted. Next thing’s next, don’t let anyone focus on the drama lest they lose themselves over what just happened.

  “Alright people, everyone accounted for?” I asked, and was met by weary nods all around. “Good. James!”

  “Yeah boss,” James responded, stepping forward.

  “You’re my finish foreman,” I instructed. “Everything off the truck and to the roof that you need. Any other supplies, take them to Bri. Everything in its place. I need that car off the gate, take it to the garage for Henry to deal with, leave the dead infected outside the gate, we’ll clean them up once the outside is secure tomorrow. Got me?”