by Bruno Miller
He didn’t want to admit it, but getting anything done tomorrow might be wishful thinking on his part. If it didn’t clear up, they might have to wait it out from the relative safety of their motel rooms. Vince didn’t have a lot of patience, and waiting it out would be harder for him than getting out and working on one of the many ideas bouncing around his head.
Waiting also meant time to dwell on things, something he thought wasn’t good for anybody right now. Staying busy was the best way to keep your mind out of the gutter—at least, it was for him. Too much time with nothing to do could really bring down a person’s morale in times of hardship. But there was nothing he could do about it except wait and see what tomorrow brought.
With any luck, the intruders wouldn’t return tonight and Vince and the others could all get some much-needed rest. Someone would have to stand watch at all times, and they needed to set up a schedule. Tom was on lookout duty now, and if he was up for it, Vince would ask him to stick with it until midnight. A four-hour rotating shift would be best, and even if there were only a handful of people in the rotation, that would allow for a lot of time off between a person’s watch duties.
This was going to be a new way of life from here on out, and Vince hoped they were all up to the challenge. Of course, he doubted any of them expected anything less than a drastic change from the norm. But still, he was sure disagreements about how to do things would arise and he wasn’t opposed to ideas from any of them. If someone wanted to step up and take charge of a task, he wasn’t going to stop them as long as it was for the good of the group.
Vince pulled into the motel parking lot and swung the pickup around so he could back in and be close to the rooms. He turned the truck off and gave two short blasts on the horn before getting out. Cy backed the big Dodge in next to him, then joined his dad at the tailgate, where they started going through the supplies they brought back.
“Hey, Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think it would be okay if I took the room next to ours? The bed is a little small, and no offense, but you snore like a chainsaw.” Cy cracked a smile that was visible through the fogged-up mask.
Vince laughed. “Yeah, I don’t see why not.” He was glad to see that Cy still had a sense of humor after the trials of the day. They might as well spread out and have their own beds. There was no telling how long they would have that luxury. It all depended on how many people ended up living at the motel. Vince hoped they would find enough survivors to fill the place. Although that would mean a lot of mouths to feed, there was safety in numbers and it would make their lives easier in the long run.
The others began to file out of their rooms and gather at the back of the truck while Vince and Cy divided up the food and water into equal piles.
“I’ll keep this short so you can all get back inside and out of this smoke.” Vince turned to face the small group and leaned on the truck. Cy finished up what he was doing and stopped to listen.
“I know it’s not much, but it will have to do until tomorrow. Divide it up among yourselves, and everyone take a five-gallon container of water for their room. We all need to get a good night’s rest and hopefully tomorrow we can try to get organized a little. Someone is going to have to stay up and keep an eye out for those guys in case they come back. Tom, can you stay at it until midnight?” Vince asked.
“Yeah, no problem,” Tom said.
“Bill, can you relive Tom at twelve? We’ll take four-hour shifts around the clock, me included.” Vince started to take off his watch to give to Tom.
“I got it. Bev’s watch is still working. I can use that,” Tom said.
“Good, everyone is in charge of waking up their relief,” Vince added.
“What do we do if they come back?” Hannah asked while trying to hold back a cough.
“We fight. That’s our only choice. We have a couple extra guns and some ammo.” Vince reached into the truck and grabbed the two shotguns. He handed one to Fred and one to Mary.
“Mary, I know you know how to handle that. What about you, Fred?”
Fred looked the gun over. “I can handle it.”
“Bill, you’ve got your rifle. Cy, I want you to take the AR-15. We don’t have a lot of ammo, so when the time comes, use it wisely. If I can get to my house in the next day or so, I can add to our arsenal with both guns and ammo.” Vince looked around at everyone. They were all tired and beat down, most of them coughing occasionally.
“All right. Let’s get this stuff divided up and get back indoors,” Vince added. Everyone moved to the tailgate and divvied up the food and drinks among themselves. A five-gallon container of water went to each room until only one remained. Vince took off his mask and handed it to Tom.
“Why don’t you sit in the truck and keep watch from there. If you see anything, you can blow the horn.” Vince walked around to the passenger’s side and pulled out the two boxes of 12-gauge shells from the glovebox. He took three of the rifled slugs out from the ten-round box.
“Why don’t you hang on to these? The birdshot won’t do you any good if you have to cover any distance, but the slugs will give you at least seventy-five yards or so.” Vince handed over the shells. Tom nodded and put them in his shirt pocket.
Vince planned on hanging on to the rest of the ammo for now since it was too scarce and too valuable to let out of his sight. He also planned on hanging on to the shortened shotgun from the garage. He still had his .45 but wasn’t sure about handing out any more weapons at the moment.
Vince watched as everyone dispersed and went back to their rooms. They all moved like zombies as they shuffled away with their meager food allotment for the night. The looks on their soot- and dirt-encrusted faces told Vince everything he needed to know about how they were feeling. Was this really happening? What did it all mean for them? Their lives—or at least the lives they had known—were gone forever.
They were just as confused as he was about what was going on around them. Their world had been turned upside down and they were faced with the very real possibility of death at each and every turn. Even for those who had endured hardships before now, this was by far the worst thing they had ever seen. The future that each and every one of them had envisioned for themselves and for their children was gone, broken and shattered like their town, which lay in ruins around them.
Chapter Thirty
Tom took his place in the pickup and prepared to finish his watch shift while everyone disappeared into their rooms. Vince glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost 10:00 p.m. That surprised him, because he felt like it should have been much later. It was easy to lose track of time in the thick smoke.
He grabbed the remaining ammo and the shortened shotgun before heading to the room behind Mary. He spotted Cy talking to Reese outside the Morgans’ room and asked him to bring the water to his and Mary’s room when he came. Cy could get cleaned up in their room before heading next door. They had a few leftover empty water bottles that he could fill and have for himself later in the night if he wanted.
When Vince entered his and Mary’s room, an overly enthusiastic Nugget greeted him by jumping from one bed to the other. Mary settled the little dog down and joined Nugget on the bed. Vince took a seat in one of the chairs and took off his boots. It felt good to let his feet breathe. He rubbed them for a while as he thought about all that he needed to do.
Cy pushed the door open with his foot as he lugged the heavy water container into the room and hoisted it up on the dresser in front of the TV. Mary didn’t waste any time and grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wet it down with water.
“I’m going to get cleaned up as much as I can. Unless you want to go first?” she asked.
“No, you go right ahead,” Vince said. He didn’t mind. Besides, he had cleaned up a little with soap and water over at the garage. He felt bad about that now as Mary made do with the wet towel and headed into the bathroom with her flashlight.
“Are you still going to take the room ne
xt door?” Vince asked Cy.
“Yep, I already got the key.” Cy twirled a room key around his finger a few times.
“Why don’t you fill up those empty bottles for yourself?” Vince said.
“Good idea.” Cy set about filling the bottles sitting on the nightstand. Vince moved the ammo to one of the dresser drawers and leaned the shotgun next to the bed, where he could reach it if he needed to. Next, he pulled the .45 and the holster from his waistband and laid it on the small table by the door. It felt good not to have it pressing into the small of his back anymore. He noticed Nugget watching his every move as he made his way about the room. Lying on the corner of the bed, the little dog waited impatiently for Mary to return.
Vince sat down at the edge of his bed and rubbed his eyes as he tried not to think about anything for a change. Cy finished filling the last water bottle. As he started for the door, he held them in his left arm and grabbed his AR-15 with the other.
“Well I guess I’ll see you in the morning,” Cy said, then let himself out of the room.
“Try to get some rest. Big day tomorrow. Goodnight,” Vince said as the door began to close. Cy nodded and was gone.
Other than the sound of Nugget panting, the room was quiet as Vince propped up a couple pillows and started to get comfortable on the bed. Nugget continued to stare at Vince while he got situated and finally gave in.
“Come on, girl.” Vince patted a spot next to him on the bed. That was the cue she’d been waiting for, and she leapt across the gap between the two beds. Finding a spot next to Vince, she rested her head on his leg. He scratched her behind the ears, and it was a welcome distraction for a while. He could feel his eyes growing heavy and he let himself slide down from his half-seated position until he was almost lying down. He tried to stay awake until Mary came out of the bathroom, but it was no use. The day’s rigorous activities caught up with him and he drifted off to sleep.
At first, Vince thought he was dreaming, but the unmistakable sound of Mary’s troubled voice and her hand on his arm brought him back to his senses.
“Vince. Vince, you’ve got to get up,” Mary pleaded.
“What is it?” Vince squinted as his eyes struggled to focus on Mary’s face in the darkness of the room. He could hear her quickened breathing and knew something was wrong.
“They’re back,” she answered.
* * *
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About the Author
Bruno Miller is the author of the Dark Road series. He’s a military vet who likes to spend his downtime hanging out with his wife and kids, or getting in some range time. He believes in being prepared for any situation.
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The Dark Road series:
Breakdown
Escape
Resistance
Fallout
Extraction