The Outbreak Series Boxed Set

by Thomas Baker

  Hannah split off. She had no luck, none of them had keys or anything of worth inside. She joined the rest of the group who huddled outside the station's doors. She told them the bad news.

  "We're walking, yesindeed," JT said. "At this rate I'll be back to my High School pants size by the time we get there."

  "Linda, why didn't you keep the wheelchair?" Gus joked.

  "You thinking I'd push your lazy butt around if I didn't have it?" Linda shot back.

  "No, not all the time. I'm sure I could have talked JT into doing most of the pushing."

  Gus gave JT sad, puppy dog eyes. JT laughed, and the rest joined in, except for Randall.

  "If we're going to go, let's go," Randall said. "This pack isn't getting any lighter standing here."

  "And my balls are getting any warmer," Gus added.

  "Autobots, let's roll out!" JT yelled. "Ops sorry Hannah, this is your show now."

  Hannah rolled her eyes at JT. "Boys will be boys. Anyway Randall's right." Hannah looked right at JT, a smile spreading across her face. "Let's make like a tree and get out of here."

  She couldn't help but giggle when JT's jaw dropped. He fell in beside her.

  "Be still my beating heart."

  Their good mood lasted the first four miles but was worn thin by mile ten. By then they had all stopped talking and shuffled along, heads down. The wind blew constantly across the flat plains. A car broken down here or there were the only breaks in the monotonous scenery. Each time they tried one of them they had no luck in getting them to go.

  They stopped for the night on the side of the road. The next morning started out the same as the last as they continued on. Hannah saw smoke on the horizon. This was something new. Alertness filled her previously slouched body. The smell became stronger and stronger. She wasn't sure what was being burned, but it wasn't a pleasant smell. When she could see the source of the smoke she shivered, goosebumps breaking out on her arms.

  Along a dirt road running parallel to the highway stood a woman. She wore a floral pattern shirt and dark blue jeans. A straw hat was on her head, but she wore no jacket or coat even though the day was brisk. She stood with her hands on her hips looking at the fire, like she was satisfied with her job. It was a pile of corpses. Hannah guessed maybe forty bodies, mixed with wood and leaves. Some bodies still twitched while they burned.

  "And there goes my appetite for lunch," Gus said.

  Even though she should have heard him, the woman made no move like she had. She never turned to look at them. She stared straight ahead, like a statue. Hannah decided she wouldn't bother the lady. No one else brought up approaching the woman either. That was fine with Hannah, she didn't want anymore run-ins with crazy people. She brought her shirt up over her nose on plodded on. She couldn't wait until they cleared the smell.

  On they continued. Hours passed. Hannah thought her ears were playing tricks on her when she heard the erratic honking of a horn instead of the ceaseless whistle of the wind.

  They all stopped and turned to see a short school bus zooming up on them. The honking continued as it approached and sped by. The bus was painted up in purple and silver. What was once probably a school logo had been painted over with the words ZOMBIE PATROL. Three younger guys hung out the windows as the bus passed, waving and yelling. The bus continued on until it was out of sight.

  "Shit, I'm jealous," Gus grunted. "Those people are having a lot more fun in the zombie apocalypse than I am. I'm a party guy, they at least should have stopped and picked me up."

  "Just when you think you have seen it all," JT said. "I'd like to get me one of those."

  "Come on guys," Hannah said, trying to sound encouraging. "Let's see if we can find someplace to stop for the night. Be nice if we could get inside some building. I'd like a break from the wind."

  They found nothing except more flat land. When Hannah gave up and called it quits, it had been dark for hours. They found an old Chevy Malibu on the shoulder with a flat tire. Gus spread his sleeping bag out in the back seat and crawled inside. The rest put up their little tents next to it in the grass. Hannah settled down as best she could. JT took first watch of the night. He had been doing first shift since they left the church. He wouldn't listen to anyone else when they tried to give him a break, he just insisted on going first.

  The wind howled and Hannah's teeth chattered as she tried to drift off. She thought about how she had taken such simple things as a cozy bed and heated home for granted. Good, hot food available whenever she wanted it. A steaming shower in the morning. She tried to picture herself back in the room she grew up in as a kid. Her four post bed, covered by a thick quilt. Lying on it, snuggled in like a cat, covered up to her chin. She kept this fantasy in her mind until she shivered herself to sleep.

  The next stop was nothing but a pure disaster. JT told Hannah they were running low on fresh water, which wasn't entirely a lie. The real reason he wanted to stop somewhere though was to pick up some liquor. The stronger the better.

  Back before the Outbreak he guessed he was a typical drinker. A beer or two a night. Sometimes he went out to party at a bar not unlike the one he was a bouncer at and would get shit faced. Him and his buds. It was all in good fun.

  His reasons now for drinking weren't for fun and games. His knee had been hurting him more the further they put the church behind them. He must have twisted it or something bailing from the last truck they had. It made it hard to fall asleep at night, exhausted as he was.

  Even more importantly, the other thing the booze numbed more than his knee was his head. He couldn't stop thinking. About Tyrone, about Ashley. Dusty even. In the solar system of the thoughts orbiting around his head they were small, like Mars, compared to Hannah. She was Jupiter, the biggest, the ruler of them all. He blamed himself for most of what had happened to them. Half a bottle of rum or whiskey and all those thoughts were gone. At least until the hangover. Then his head hurt too much to think.

  He made sure to hide it. He didn't want to hear about it from Hannah right now. He assumed she would go on a tirade about it. He didn't want Gus to find out either, more because he was embarrassed Gus would think him weak. He, for fuck sakes, wanted no more lectures from Randall. He always tried to put someone between Randall and him since leaving the last gas station. Randall didn't seem to mind. He didn't talk much to anyone. Not even Gus could pry much out of him. JT wondered if he regretted coming with them out here in the nothingness when he could be at home in Gateway City.

  They walked along the shoulder of I-70. Cold wind smelling of winter blew steadily at his shaggy hair. He had a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, so he didn't notice it much. It was the last of his Jack Daniels. Thoughts about Randall blew out of his mind as if the strong wind had whooshed them away. Instead, he was on the lookout to score more hard stuff before they stopped for the night.

  "Hannah," JT called up. She was at the lead of their marching line. "I see a gas station up at the top of the next exit ramp. Let's stop there, I want to pick up some water if there is any to be had." Whatever small alcohol bottles they have too, he didn't add out loud.

  Hannah gave him a gloved thumbs up. Behind her followed Sheriff Randall, Gus, and Linda. He brought up the rear. They trudged up the exit ramp and a half mile down the road to the little station. Two cars, both sitting on chewed up tires, blocked the one pump. The glass had all been shattered out of the building.

  "I don't know JT. Looks like it might have already been hit up," Hannah said.

  He was so intent on getting his bottles, he momentarily forgot he was supposed to be the lookout. He peered in through the broken window with the rest of them when a voice yelled out from behind them.

  "Drop your packs and your weapons, nice and slow."

  JT turned. Beside the broken-down cars were now two men. They were so dirty and scruffy it was hard to tell them apart. Both were holding shotguns. There was a look of desperation along with a hint of craziness in their eyes. Shit. Not one of us has our wea
pon drawn. How could I be so careless after all this time?

  "Son," Randall spoke up, a hand gliding to his hip. "We didn't realize this was your place. We'll be on our way."

  "Fuck you will!" one of them shouted out, spittle flying from his lips. "Nice and slow now. Drop everything, then we will see who goes where."

  "Everyone, do as they say," Hannah said, sliding her backpack off.

  The other one who hadn't spoken yet, licked his lips as his eyes darted between them and the backpacks. "You're the prettiest thing I've seen in a while, we definitely might want you to stay with us, help keep us warm."

  Hannah blew the men a kiss and both of them turned slightly towards her. During Hannah's distraction, Randall drew his gun and fired in one smooth motion, like he was in some old western show. His shot was on target and blew a hole right through one of the attacker's head. A boom enveloped the area and echoed off the building. Randall went down, his front now a shredded mess of blood and fabric.

  Ignoring the protest of his knee JT charged the one who shot Randall. The man turned, fumbling with his shotgun. JT crashed the man into one of the junk cars so hard the whole thing rocked. The shotgun clattered to the concrete.

  JT wailed on the man, who didn't even have a chance tofight back. JT's vision was red hot. The man slid down to the ground, his face a mess of pummeled meat and sticky blood, which ran from his nose and his mouth profusely. JT gave him kick after kick for added good measure until his right leg was burning. The man was motionless after JT's assault.

  The return of his rage was as comforting as the return of an old lover. He forced himself to stop. He walked over and sat down with his back against the wall of the store. He looked at his hands, cover in blood, and rubbed them on his jeans furiously. He tried to keep his eyes down, but they kept sliding up to Randall's still body. Linda had rolled him over to his back. Her hands hovered over his body. Her look was one of resignation. Randall was gasping for air. He reminded JT of his childhood pet goldfish that had jumped out if its bowl. It too laid on the ground, it sides laboring for breath, when he had found it. Randall's chest stopped moving, and no sound escaped from his lips. Linda felt for a pulse. After what seemed like forever she looked up and shook her head no.

  JT looked down and then back up again. Hannah was coming over towards him. She sat down in front of him and clutched his battered hands. "This wasn't your fault, we all let our guard down," she said, as if they didn't just kill two men and lost one of their own. "I'm going inside. See if there's anything we I can find to help Randall."

  JT gave Hannah a death stare. "Nothing can help Randall now. Go check out the store. I don't care. I'll be waiting out here." He jerked his hands away. "Please, don't touch me right now."

  JT thought Hannah would challenge him. His look dared her to. The rage of an argument with Hannah would be better than feeling this guilt. Randall was right. He loved his anger because the world was shit. Instead, she got up with a sigh. She walked over to Randall's corpse and stood over it. Linda rose to her feet and the two of them embraced, then went inside the gas station. Gus stood over Randall looking somber and in shock. JT didn't know how long he sat there, looking between his hands and the body of Sheriff Randall. The man didn't get to enjoy his retirement for long.

  Hannah came out with a threadbare throw. On it was a picture of a wolf howling at the moon. She covered Randall's body with it. JT thought it was a poor excuse for a grave. The man was hard, but he deserved better. The others all stood around his body and held hands. Hannah didn't even look over at him. At that point JT decided to he'd go inside, see if there was something to wash his hands off with.

  Through the broken glass he could hear Hannah's voice drift into the store. She was saying a prayer. The words made a pulsing throb in his head. Its color was red. He found some hand sanitizer and poured it all over his hands, relishing the stings where his skin had broken open. He ripped open a pack of paper towels and dabbed at the blood until he was satisfied.

  While he was inside he rummaged through the store for some alcohol. Wouldn't want this stop to go to waste. He found three bottles of whiskey and figured it was enough to get hammered on. He jammed them into his pack. He couldn't wait until the black abyss took him tonight.

  On the way out JT caught himself looking at his reflection in the mirror on one of those spinning sunglass trees. Thoughts of what Randall had said to him ravaged through his mind as he looked at himself. God damn JT, he thought to himself; you had to rush to the storefront to look for alcohol. You left your position and made everyone vulnerable. This is on you. Bad enough it was Randall. It could have been Hannah. With that thought JT grabbed the display and violently shook it. Cheap sunglasses fell to the floor. He picked up the whole display and slammed it into the ground, sending plastic shards flying everywhere.

  JT stopped to catch his breath before heading back outside. He took his hat off and poured some water on his hair before replacing his hat. That's when he noticed it. A rack on the checkout counter of cheap DVDs. Only $5.95 the bright neon sign advertised. One of the face out cases was the movie Red Dawn. JT felt like he could laugh and cry all at once. He stuffed all that bullshit down violently snatched up the case. He fiddled with the outer pocket of his bag and slammed the movie into his pack. It felt right.

  "You do see what's going on back there, don't ya?"

  Gus had slid up next to Hannah as they walked on towards what felt like the edge of the Earth. Hannah snatched little glances back over her shoulder. She saw JT sway down the shoulder of the interstate. He wore sunglasses today, saying the sun was too bright, even though it was overcast. He frequently held his hand to his head, rubbing his temples.

  "Yes, JT looks tired and is struggling to keep up." Gus gave her a look that said are you kidding me.

  She noticed his increasingly erratic behavior. How could she not notice, with the four of them being so close all the time? They were two days passed the death of Randall. She had grieved and moved on, confident in her faith. Randall was now in a more peaceful place. This was one death she knew wasn't her doing. It was this world's fault. It didn't seem JT could do that though. She didn't know if she could help him either. He had rejected her attempts at praying together or accepting any condolence at all.

  "You want me to say something little lady? I know you two have been on the outs since that Albright business."

  "You don't need my permission Gus. Do what you can." She tried to keep the urgent worry out of her voice.

  With a pat on the shoulder Gus paused, waiting for Linda to catch up to him. The group marched on. It was another uneventful day. Which gave Hannah plenty of time to chew on her worry. She talked to God, asking him to take the burden from her and come back with an answer. She kept JT at the edge of her vision all day.

  Hannah called camp at dusk. There was still nothing but flat, brown grassland all around them, as far as she could see. With nothing to build a fire with, it would be another cold night on the hard ground.

  "It's getting so cold out here, my nipples are gonna poke an eye out," Gus said, as he ate a dinner of cold Spam with a chocolate chip cookie for dessert. "Don't you try to sneak a peak, Linda."

  "What's there to peak at? You need to get some meat on your bones," Linda said, opening up her own Spam tin. "You're not doing a good job keeping me warm at night."

  Gus shot a finger gun at JT. "That make you jealous over there handsome?"

  JT simplyshook his head no with pursed lips. He played with his tin can, flipping it end over end. He sat apart from the three of them and when he ate; it was in silence. He grabbed his backpack and stood up when he finished.

  "I gotta go do my business," he announced.

  "Hold up boss," Gus said, waving him back. "I've tried to be silent, but I gotta speak up now. You okay there JT? Anything you want to share?"

  "No Gus, I don't think so. Unless you want to come help me wipe," JT half smiled. Hannah could tell he also looked annoyed. She jumped in.
>
  "JT before you go-"

  "Hannah, don't you start in too," JT interrupted.

  "JT, what do you think I'm going to start?" she said, in a more commanding voice. "I just had something I need to tell you. I've taken you off the lookout position. At least for a while."

  JT shot Hannah a dirty look.

  "Come on now son," Gus said. "It's for your own good. We should have never put so much stress on you without a break. Randall, Hannah, Linda, me, we all should have taken turns. Dial it down JT. You're not a superhero."

  "You're not my father Gus, so don't act like it," JT said, sounding like a whiny teen.

  "Then start acting like an adult, damn it!" Gus shouted. JT looked at Gus like he had been slapped. "Now look what I've gone anddone. Sorry JT."

  "JT, this is what we will do. Linda, Gus, and I will go on rotation," Hannah gave him a knowing look. "You act like you are guilty of something. What did you think I would bring up? You have something to share?"

  JT stood there, clutching his backpack. She felt bad about ganging up on him like this. She didn't know if they would get through to him or just push him away more. He looked on the verge of saying something, then turned and walked away into the twilight.

  "The kid is hurting," Gus said when JT was out of sight, lost in the darkness their little battery powered lanterns couldn't penetrate.

  "I've seen lots of itin my time," Linda said. "He has so much grief and anger he is clinging on to. Most of it he has to work out himself. I'm no psychologist but I could help some, if he would let me."

  "Maybe, with more time," Hannah said, understanding some of the grief JT was carrying. More and more she was coming to feel some of her own rage. She made a disgusted laugh. Those were things she still shared with JT. "You're still a stranger to him Linda. No offense, but I highly doubt he'll talk to you."

  He wouldn't open up to her but Hannah guessed JT blamed himself along with her for Tyrone's death. God knows she blamed herself enough without JT piling on her. Maybe he also blamed himself for Alan and Dusty and Ashley too. Then she felt the rage, one close to the surface, like an oil slick on a body of water. Was that how JT felt all the time? It had been with her since leaving the church behind. Tapping that anger made her want to strangle JT. Slap him in the face and tell him to get over it. Hadn't she been traumatized more than anyone else here?