The Turning

by Thomas Key

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Five hours later, the trio made it to the end of the trail leading to the crest. Eight times over the course of the remainder of their hike, they had to fight off attacks from groups of hunters hell bent on having them for dinner, or a late-night snack depending on which one of them they got their long ass nailed claws into. The groups had been much smaller than the original bunch but that had not lessened the fear and terror of each encounter. Fast and silent infected jumping out at you in the middle of the night with no warning is enough to make anyone tinkle. Running horribly low on ammunition, and with all three of the survivors exhausted, they came across a visitor center/gift shop at the peak. The area had been closed off with only one or two cars in the entire parking lot. They walked through the barricades and after giving the front door some tender loving care with the butt of Ken’s rifle, they entered. They began their sweep of the area. Inside was a beautiful array of artwork and nick nacks that you’d expect from a tourist spot, including rocks that you could buy by the bag. Ken wasn’t sure at all who would buy a bag of rocks but hey, who was he to judge. One thing they had all caught upon entering was a smell. It was a smell almost any high school or college or whatever was above that athletes would recognize in a heartbeat. If you’ve ever been in a locker room with a bunch of sweaty people, you’d know the smell. It was the smell of dirty, unwashed bodies. It was definitely not the smell of decay like entering a home with several corpses piled up in the corner. They walked through the gift shop area, scanning for targets. Displays with an assortment of sweaters, t-shirts and jackets advertising the spot littered the room, with display cases around the perimeter. Off to one side was a door leading to an eating area, and a kitchen beyond that. Ken took the lead and went for the door. Opening it as quietly and slowly as was possible, he peeked inside. The smell of stinky people wafted up in force and he nearly let the door slam closed. Taking several deep breaths of clean (or cleaner rather) air, he moved into the room. The eating area was in disarray. Broken cans and jars were everywhere, with boxes smashed into small pieces mixed in. Visible footprints in the dust-covered floor instantly gave Ken the impression that someone had been here, and recently. He moved on, carefully monitoring where each step came down. The swinging door of the kitchen was next up and he opened the door just as slowly. Just as he was able to see inside, the barrel of his rifle was swept to the side as the swinging door burst open. He fell backwards, his finger pulling the trigger out of habit, sending two rounds into the ceiling and deafening all of them. The women had been right behind and raised their rifles to meet the new threat. Three hunters pushed and shoved each other through the doorway and towards the trio. One of them grabbed at Ken’s shoe, attempting to pull him back inside of the room. “Hey!” Ashmore yelled out as the creature with the foot fetish looked up at her in response. “Eat this,” she said calmly, putting a round through its nose. The other two had immediately leapt towards the killer of their friend, assuming that was the case and both landed within mere inches of Ashmore. Atencio was fast on the trigger, a three round burst peppering the side of the closest infected. The second one though, grasped at Ashmore’s vest, sending both of them to the ground as it wrestled for warm food. Atencio could not take a shot safely without hitting her partner. She aimed, trying to find a spot to fire, with no success. Ashmore was trying to scramble backwards, putting as much distance between her attacker as possible. The hunter gained the upper hand, and was millimeters from taking a bite out of her neck, when its head was pulled back, and a loud crack was heard as Kenneth pulled its head to a horrible angle, breaking its neck. It fell, lifeless to the floor, its head landing on Ashmore’s leg. She immediately recoiled and pulled away, standing up. “Jesus, that was close,” she said, checking herself, wiping away a long trail of saliva from her neck, gagging in disgust. Atencio gave her an epic hug, and then checked her for bites as well. When they were clear, they reset, and took up positions around the room. Ken also reset from the near-death encounter and walked into the room that he was previously denied entry from. Inside was an absolute mess. The creatures had been staying here, of that he had no doubt. Besides the stink, more cans and boxes were piled up in the right corner, completely empty. The pantry was completely cleaned out of anything edible. It was as if this was their den. More and more, that made sense to Ken. These creatures were not walking dead at all, but infected people that were changing. If there were no obvious food sources around, they would find a way to survive. This was their way, a den. He had no doubt this would make scavenging for food in the future that much more harder. Besides the obvious danger of crazy ass infected people hunting him, now they were eating the same food that the humans were after. Not only did they already have to scavenge for cans of creamed corn, but any hope of finding an unopened bag of Doritos would certainly be out of the question. Even his beloved Little Debbies would be at risk. Not the Little Debbies! he thought to himself as he looked up at the ceiling as if the big guy upstairs would say something like ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got you,’ or something to that effect. Nothing met his gaze though.

  The building was clear and not a can or box or bag of unopened food remained. If they could eat clothing, they’d have months’ worth of snacks but alas, it was not to be. After the hike, the constant fear of death and the other events of the day, the trio decided to call it a night, or a morning as it were. The sun had risen to the east and bathed the building in the warm rays of the light. Using one whole rack of clothing as bedding and blankets, they created a makeshift nest for the three humans. Placing a series of knick knacks on top of a small display case on the inside of the front door that would fall if anything tried to gain entry, and blocking off the previously open window in the back room, the room was as secure as they could make it. In a perfect world, or some semblance of it, someone would stand guard. With the horrors of the day, none of the trio could keep their eyes open. Reckless or not, people did not operate without rest. They slept, tossing and turning with memories of either happiness or pain running through their weary minds. It was hard to have nightmares worse than the apocalypse, unless, of course, it was evil clowns. Clowns by themselves were scary as hell sometimes, and evil ones, all red balloons and cheap jokes would have sent anyone remaining over the edge of sanity for sure. Kenneth’s dreams tended to always go back to his gaming days. Spending hours upon hours streaming his Halo and Fortnite conquests to sometimes hundreds of fans. The dreams of pulling that right trigger and seeing an enemy fall, and his kill count increase were the good ones. Generally, his brain would only entertain them for so long before it went dark, bringing up memories of horror. The worst of which was the remembrance of Billy and his mother. Seeing the life fade away from the child, and seeing the grief in his mother was the epiphany of a nightmare for him. No matter how he tried to change what happened in his nightmares, it always ended the same. The young boy dead in his arms, and his mother pulling a pistol and shooting him after a zombie attack. He startled awake, quickly pulling his gun up from under its home under a set of brand-new sweaters he had been using for warmth. It came up easily and was pointed at the door in two heartbeats. Nothing stirred as he held the weapon, watching and listening for any movement. When nothing happened, he slowly lowered the barrel. It came to a rest beside him once again and he took in a deep breath. He slowly stood from the small pile of humanity and stretched. The two women beside him lay tangled up in each other’s arms and legs. They had all slept close for warmth but there was no way he’d be caught with his arms or legs anywhere near the two as Isabel would certainly find out and he’d have to fear for his life, and no one wanted that. He walked to the back of the store, and into the small employee restroom. The water had stopped running forever ago, but that suited him just as well. He didn’t need to flush for what he was doing. As he took care of business, his right hand up against the cold bare wall. His other hand ran through his long hair, causing goosebumps to ripple through him. Fun fact ladies, one of the t
enderest things you can do for a man is run your hand through his hair. Unless he’s bald or otherwise bare-headed, then the advice probably falls flat. He heard noise in their sleeping room and he made to make for his pistol, which he had strapped to his side. His hand stopped though as he heard a light giggle. He sighed as he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now if the ladies were up. He finished and zipped up, walking out of the restroom to find the two women still under the covers so to speak doing God knows what. Women were a strange breed, he thought as he went to one of the windows and peered out. The empty parking lot beyond showed no sign of any danger. Refugees wouldn’t have made the trek up the steep mountain during the panic, so it made sense that the only ones up here were this pack of infected. Behind him, the women rose from their earthly beds and bounded to the restroom. He stood stoically, avoiding turning around at all costs. He was a gentleman after all, or maybe it was just the fear of his other half. Slowly, his eyes followed the edge of the lot where a small vehicle path led to a closed gate with a series of radio antennas beyond. The real test would be finding a way to reach anyone with any semblance of success. A small building sat near the gate and his eyes fixated on it. That would be their target.

  Twenty minutes passed before the two women were ready and composed enough for Kenneth to sit down and converse with them. The three of them sat, each eating a package of MREs (Meals ready to eat). The two continued to pass glances at each other, smiling as they did so. Kenneth rolled his eyes. “Let’s focus on the problem at hand, okay?” he asked the two who seemed to be genuinely upset at being interrupted. Both women looked at him with a plate of annoyance with a generous side of ‘who made you boss?’ He held up his hands in a placating manor. “We need to figure out what the plan is unless you just want to sit here and wait for someone to come upon us,” he said. “You’re right,” Ashmore said, the heat from her stare slowly withering away. “What do we do once we get in there?” she asked. Ken shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I’ve dabbled in electronics but don’t know much of anything about frequencies or anything like that,” he responded. He looked at Atencio. “Don’t look at me, I don’t know crap about that, I was a cheerleader,” she said, looking down at her feet. “We’ll have to play it by ear then. Once we’re done eating, how about we hop to it?” he asked the two. They both nodded and continued to shovel the unappealing food down. After marshaling their trash and readying up, they moved the display case and opened the front door slowly. The wind was cold, and at an altitude of 10,600 ft. and change, it was all prevailing. Leaving the semi warm confines of the shelter and into the harsh wind served to further wake them up to complete alertness. The trio crossed the parking lot and made it to the fence. None of the group had bolt cutters, so the plan shifted to climbing the fence. Ashmore and Atencio ran back to the gift shop, and retrieved several of the sweaters from the shop. They threw those over the barbed wire on top to avoid any unnecessary cuts or punctures. The last thing that any of them wanted was tetanus, after all, there was more than enough ways to die in the world these days. That would be a really disappointing way to go. As they all made it safely to the ground on the other side, they fanned out, looking for threats. None came. Coming to the small one-room building, Kenneth used the butt of his rifle to bash the lock until it gave. Between the elements, constant cold weather and the not-so-gentle force applied by Ken, it broke much easier than anticipated. Atencio entered first, sweeping her rifle from left to right, with Ashmore coming in right behind her. Kenneth came in immediately after. The room was clear and appeared undisturbed. A variety of computers and screens dominated the majority of the room with long dead indicator lights on a panel to the right. A small reinforced window sat dead-center in the wall to the left. Closing the door behind them, they found the place was without power, and had been probably since the beginning of the end. “Well, this is off to a good start,” Atencio said, leaning up against one of the walls. “We need to go outside,” Ken said, heading for the door. “Are you serious? We just got here, and it’s really cold out there,” she said, shaking her head in emphasis. “I’ll go, you stay,” he said, walking out alone into the frigid wind. He followed the exterior wall of the building and came upon his goal. A small backup generator sat in a small fence enclosure with several barrels of diesel lining the wall. He opened up the generator cap and went to one of the three barrels. Two of the three were completely empty, he pushed those two over onto their side with little effort. Coming to the third barrel, he was sure that he would be disappointed. As he rocked it back and forth, the liquid inside sloshed around loudly. Smiling, he removed a syphoning rig from his backpack, he fed it into the drum and proceeded to transfer fuel into the genny. Once it was filled to capacity, he stopped the syphon and went through the processes of starting the generator. After several attempts, it puttered to life and with an air of satisfaction about him, Ken headed to the door of the building. Movement caught his eye and he swore to himself, pulling his rifle up to his shoulder. He looked down the sights and no longer saw anything out of the ordinary. The movement was so fast, a blur really. He lowered his weapon and looked back at where they had come. Nothing was moving and nothing was out of place. Damn, I’m tired, he thought as he shrugged and quickly reentered the small dwelling. The women pulled their own weapons up in response to his entry. He held out his hands and they lowered them, each letting out a breath. Inside, he found the lights and displays were slowly coming to life, like an old robot after being stuck in the cold of space for a decade. Searching around, he found an operating checklist. Looking over everything and becoming as familiar with the setup as he could, he began to fidget with switches and panels, turning them off and on and seeing what the results where. Peering out of the small window, he could also see the aircraft warning lights on the antennas were blinking now. That was a great sign. If all else, it would signify to any passing aircraft that there was someone alive here. His goal, though, was to send out a signal to increase the chances of getting rescued. The lights on the inside of the building flickered and the generator coughed several times before continuing with its duty. “The fuel might be bad,” Ashmore said as she watched the spectacle. “Yeah, we might not have much time,” Ken said, a fresh bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. A program running on one of the old as hell computers caught his attention. After logging in with an employee’s login, which was luckily provided by a previous tenant who left their login information on a small post-it note located on the display monitor. Half of an hour later, he was still no closer to sending out a signal. The towers were sending out static already but getting anything over the airways was a problem. It hit him. By turning the towers on and off, he could send an SOS. His Morse code was rusty but between the three of them, they figured it out. He entered a series of commands into the computer and watched the lights for each antenna die, and then turn back on brightly. “This might actually work,” he said as he smiled to the two women. They both smiled back, high-fiving each other. The door to the room burst open as two hunters bounded in, catching the three of them wholly off-guard. Ashmore was quickest to react, pulling her sidearm and catching one of the infected in the left lung, causing it to drop. The second bolted for Ken and leapt into the air. Ken rolled to the right, just far enough for the infected to go over his head. The unfortunate part was that it landed on a series of keyboards, causing sparks, and the entire system to begin going haywire. The lights in the room flickered on and off and the hunter, electrocuted, landed on the floor in a freshly cooked manor. Outside of the door, three more running infected could be seen about to scale the fence. As Ken looked out, a dozen zombies were slowly coming from around the novelty store. He raised his rifle again, and fired into the group, now landing on their feet on their side of the fence. The lead infected’s skull exploded in gore as a high caliber round caught it through the eye with an upward trajectory. The dozen by the shop turned to two dozen and the sound of the gunfire was sure to attract more from all around. “Thi
s is not cool!” Atencio shouted as she took down one more of the hunters. Ken fired a burst into the last one standing and heard a click, and his rifle stopped firing. If you’ve ever used a firearm, you know that click. He was out of ammunition, and dry firing. “Oh shit,” he said, throwing down his backpack, searching for any remaining magazines or even loose rounds. He came up woefully short. “I’m out!” he yelled, dropping his rifle and pulling his pistol. Two magazines of 9mm was all that he had left, between the loaded pistol and the spare in the holster. The two women took the lead, with Ken taking a defense posture. He’d save his rounds for any that got too close. The two dozen zombies turned to three dozen and the parking lot was quickly filling up with walking dead. Another loud click as Atencio went dry. “I’m out too!” she shouted in frustration, spitting out a series of curses that would make a sailor blush. “This isn’t going to work, we need to evac!” Ken yelled to the two. A rock cliff to one side, and dozens of undead spreading out along the fence line left their choices limited. The lights of the room and antennas behind them were still flickering wildly. Ken pointed, “Look, over there!” he shouted. The two women turned and followed his pointing. Six, no, seven of the hunters walked from side to side, just out of weapon range. They didn’t advance, but instead seemed like they were patrolling the area. “They’re waiting for us to try to leave or for the zombies to get in,” Ken said. “I hate smart fucking zombies so much,” Ashmore said, her rifle lowering to her side. She pulled the magazine and counted the rounds. She had six. Not sixty, not six hundred, just six. She could try to take out the hunters but with the ranges involved, she could miss and what good would that do? “I’m going to save the last rounds,” she said, pulling her backup pistol as well. “What the hell are we going to do?” Atencio shouted. “If the zombies breach the gate, hiding in the building will do no good. They’ll just overwhelm us and wait us out,” Ken said. “So then, what’s the plan?” Atencio asked again, fear beginning to take hold. Ken pointed to the nearest large antenna. “We go up.”