by M. D. Massey
Could have been any number of things, considering the circumstances. I pulled up to the pumps anyway and went inside to see what was up. A glance at the prices on the sign out front told me that price gouging was in full effect. Twelve bucks a gallon. Ouch. Maybe the prices had scared all the customers off.
As I walked up to the front door, I noticed some fresh blood spatters on the glass. That got my hackles raised right up, so I drew my Glock and kept it hidden behind my leg as I peeked inside the store from behind the corner of the wall. No one was visible, but there was a helluva lot of mess inside the store. I could see more blood splattered all over the floor, as well bloody handprints on the counter. Looked like a robbery, but there were no cops, no alarms, no crime scene tape, and nothing to indicate there were any dead bodies around.
Maybe Randy and the boys from the sheriff's office were busy elsewhere. I could only imagine what was going on in town. People must have been freaking out and raising all kinds of hell. For the most part, the good folks of Leakey were as kind as could be, pretty much overflowing with Texas hospitality and such. But I’d seen what war could do to people, and knew that when ordinary folks were faced with extraordinary circumstances, they’d go to extraordinary lengths to protect and preserve life, limb, and family.
Bottom line, though, was that I still needed gas. The lights were on, so that was a good sign. I could probably still get gas, even if no one was around. I’d leave some cash in the register or drop it in the safe; no need to steal from my neighbors. Not yet, anyway. I cracked the door and propped it open with my foot so I could listen to what was going on inside before entering.
It was quiet as a mouse’s house. All I could hear was some water dripping, and the low hum of the walk-in coolers in the back. I listened for a good minute or so, and didn’t hear anything else. I opened the door a bit more and called out.
“Hey, anyone in here? I need some gas. I’m not here to rob you. I have money and will pay.”
Silence.
I kept my sidearm at low ready and walked in the store. As I stepped inside, I nearly busted my ass by slipping in a pool of blood hidden by the news racks at the front door. I caught my balance by grabbing one of the racks, and looked down to see about two pints of coagulating blood on the floor. Yeah, it was blood alright—no mistaking that smell. I wiped my feet on the entry runner and moved through the store, clearing it one area at a time. I checked behind the counter, then down each aisle using the store mirrors and some good old fashioned door kicker moves. Then finally I cleared the office, the rest rooms, storage area, and the walk-ins.
The place was a mess, and emptier than a synagogue on Superbowl Sunday. There were more random blood stains and spatters, and someone had tracked blood all over the store as well. Scratch that, make that two—no, three someones. Two of them didn’t look like they were doing so hot. One of them looked like he was limping, and another was shuffling with a strange gait. Reminded me of someone doing opium. Saw enough of that in the ’Stan to know what it looked like.
One thing was obvious: they were both chasing the third person. Looked to be a female; shoes were small, with no tread and a narrow toe. Tracks led out the back door, and I saw more bloody handprints on the door release bar. I listened at the door, but heard nothing. I swung it open and looked left and right. Nothing but a retention wall and some trash.
This was all really messed up, and I was pretty damn curious what had happened to these people. But, first things first. I went behind the counter and turned on the pump I needed, then popped open the cash register and left a few twenties in there. I went to shut the drawer, and then thought better of it and left another twenty. Damned if I was going to pay twelve bucks a gallon, though. Then I went out to the truck and left the pump running while I started loading up.
I snagged three cases of bottled water, which was all they had left. I also scored two boxes of Power Bars and all their jerky. I took every bit of toilet paper they had, along with some jumper cables, a few quarts of oil, a roll of duct tape, some radiator repair tape, a bottle of Gorilla glue, and all their OTC drugs. And a twelve pack of tall boys, just in case I never got to enjoy a cold one again.
I used a hand truck I found in the back and loaded it all up. I gave the place one final look around and found a first aid kit in the office, so I cleaned that out too. Once I got it all in the truck, I went back inside to leave them the rest of the cash I had on hand, along with an IOU and a list of what I took in exchange for the rest. I figured I’d shorted them about a hundred bucks, but to hell with it. Better that it was taken by someone who was good for it than by looters.
As I walked back out to the truck to top off the tank and fill my jerry cans, that whole bloody scene inside kept nagging at me. I thought on it a bit and decided it wouldn’t take too much time to see where those folks had gone. I threw the gas cans in back, hopped in my truck, and pulled it around back. I flipped it around and backed it into the tree line behind the store, locked it, and picked up the trail at the back door. It headed out back down an old deer trail. I followed it with my sidearm drawn and my eyes peeled.
The deer trail was fairly unused, so it made for tight quarters as I followed the obvious tracks the three people from the gas station had left. It looked like the girl had made better time than the two shufflers. Her tracks were longer and she was striking hard on her heels with every step. Her trail went on for about a quarter-mile along the trail, then she had cut off at an angle into the trees, presumably to lose her pursuers. I could see that both pursuers had continued down the deer trail a ways, then they had stopped abruptly and shuffled around. After that, their trail went off into the sticks in the same direction as the girl’s. I decided to follow the girl’s trail. She was moving at speed that had left a clear line of broken branches and scuffed ground to follow.
About a half-mile further, I noticed that the girl had stopped and attempted to hide in some brush. She had hunkered down behind some cedar trees, and it looked like she had crouched there for a while. There were several branches of the tree that had been stripped of foliage, which I presumed she did out of nervousness while waiting to see if she had evaded her pursuers. Unfortunately, she hadn’t, as their trail had converged with hers about fifteen yards before. I found what I assumed to be her phone in the brush a few yards out; it was cracked, but otherwise still in working order. I pocketed it and continued to track her.
After that, the trail led out into a short clearing, beyond which was a steep drop-off of about 75 feet that went into a canyon. There appeared to have been a scuffle, and at least one person had gone off the edge into the canyon. I searched carefully for some sign that the girl had escaped, but unfortunately I could find no further sign of her passing. I walked up to the edge of the drop-off and looked down, and saw three bodies tangled up in the brush at the bottom. It was hard to see clearly exactly what I was looking at, but I doubted anyone could have survived that fall.
I shook my head and said a silent prayer, then went to head back to the gas station. Just as I was turning away, I thought I saw movement from the bottom of the canyon out of the corner of my eye. I looked quickly back, but didn’t detect anything else from the corpses below. I chalked it up to the wind, coyotes, or just my mind playing tricks on me. I made a mental note to tell Randy just as soon as I ran across him, and headed back to my truck.
Once I got to my truck, I sat for a moment and tried to process what I’d seen. A lot of it didn’t make sense. For one, where did all the blood come from? I had found some blood on the trail, but based on what I’d seen in the store, whoever had lost all that liquid would’ve been in no shape for a hike in the woods. And why the heck were those two guys chasing that girl? The beer cooler was mostly left untouched, the cash register was full, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why they left the cash and took off after her. Could’ve been to rape her, sure. But every crook I’d ever known would get the cash first, then they’d go after other objectives. Even crimin
als have their priorities.
Also, there were no signs of gunfire inside the store. There had been a struggle, but I hadn’t found any loose casings or bullet holes anywhere. I supposed they could have taken their time to pick them up, but I doubted those two shufflers would’ve bothered. From what I could tell, they both had been so strung out I doubted either had been thinking coherently. That being said, they had still been with it enough to chase a girl through the woods to her death. How all three ended up going over was anyone’s guess.
I decided to consider it an unsolved mystery and leave it for Dennis Farina to figure out. As tragic as it all was, I had more important things to think about. Namely, getting to Austin intact and rescuing my aging parents from God-knew-what was going to happen once the shit hit the fan. I figured the first thing that would happen would be the looting, followed by food riots, then roving gangs. The good news was that Mom and Dad lived in a nicer area of town, far away from where most of the criminal element lived. The bad news was that they lived exactly where I would go to find victims were I an enterprising criminal facing a nuclear apocalypse.
Not cool. I decided to pull out the girl’s cell phone and try to give Mom a call. I got a low battery indicator, so I headed back into the store to snag a cell charger. I drove back to the cabin the long way, just to see what was going on elsewhere in this one horse town. I cruised on down toward Leakey, telling myself that I was just going to look around and avoid contact with anyone. Just for insurance, I slapped a magazine in my rifle and put it barrel down in the passenger footwell, out of sight, where I could grab it if I needed.
As I drove slowly down the road, I came across a lot of abandoned cars. All were newer models that relied on fancy computer equipment to keep them running. A car is a sort of Faraday cage, but any exposed antenna will suck in a strong EMP signal like a Dyson in a dust storm. I suspected all those new cars were basically bricked by the EMP generated by the bombs that were dropped on San Antonio and Austin.
I was moving slow enough to avoid colliding with any sudden obstacles that might pop up, but not so fast that I couldn’t see inside the cars. All of them were empty, but a few showed signs of violence. Smashed windows, along with plenty of blood and gore. I said another silent prayer, both for those folks and for myself, and wondered if the whole world had gone mad already. I glanced at a few houses as I passed by and saw one or two curtains flutter, but witnessed absolutely no sign of anyone out and about. Obviously, people were scared and hunkering down, and I couldn’t blame them after what I had seen.
About a mile out of Leakey I came across a semi-truck pulled off the side of the road. The door was closed, but I could see someone slumped in the cab. I pulled over, grabbed the rifle and the first aid kit I’d snagged at the gas station, and walked over to see if I could help. As I walked up, I could see someone had smeared blood and what I assumed were guts all over the outside of the cab. It also looked like they’d been trying to get inside the cab, banging on the glass and whatnot.
I looked around but saw no sign of anyone nearby. I climbed up on the sideboard and peered inside. Blood and brains had splattered all over the roof of the cab, and the guy had a small hole in his temple. Suicide. I tried the door handle, but it was locked, so I used the glass tool on my folder to break the window, then I opened the door to get the gun. It was a small .38 caliber revolver, cheap but reliable. .38 was a common round, so I took it along with the box of shells the driver had left on the seat. I said another prayer for the old timer, and silently thanked him for the gun and shells. He had a picture of some kids and what I assumed were their parents on his dash; I took it and placed it in his hand, and shut the door.
As I climbed down off the cab, I saw some people approaching from Leakey. Not just some. A whole mob. They were far enough away to give me plenty of time to get in my truck and head back the way I came before they could even get close enough to be a threat. I decided to give up on seeing what things looked like in town. If the looting had already started in the little city of Leakey, Texas, population 425, I needed to get my parents out of Round Rock as soon as possible. I left the mob in my rearview and headed back to the cabin as fast as all the broken down cars and debris on the road would allow.
4
Unreal
Once back at the cabin I plugged the girl’s cell phone into the charger and tried the landline again. No dice. I left the cell phone on, though, just in case someone tried to reach the girl. I figured I could tell them what had happened and at least give them closure, even though it might make me a suspect in her murder. Considering the circumstances, I thought it was unlikely that the courts would be back in operation anytime soon, but eventually things would return to some level of normalcy, so I decided to turn off the phone after all. No sense getting involved until I spoke with Randy about it.
I felt pretty hungry. The day’s events had ended up being a lot more stressful than I had expected. Not that being in a nuclear apocalypse was supposed to be a day at the beach, but I hadn’t expected things to be this chaotic and violent so soon. I put some soup on the stove and munched out on some deer sausage and crackers while I waited for the soup to heat, then I tried calling my parents again using the landline. I got nothing but a busy signal, so I decided to keep trying on the odd chance I might get through. Once the cell phone I’d found was charged enough, I’d also start trying to call them on that. Couldn’t hurt to try.
Once my soup was ready, I hunkered down in front of the short wave and started scanning the freqs for some news of what was going on out there in the big wide world. Nobody seemed to know exactly what had happened, but we did know who fired the first shot. Apparently the North Koreans decided to drop the bomb on Seoul, and that started a whole chain of events that had ended with the U.S., Russia, and China tossing nuclear weapons at each other. It would have been only a matter of time before something like this happened. I mean, once you let the crazies build nukes, the logical conclusion is that eventually they’re going to use them. Heck, even a ten-year-old could see that.
Thankfully, something major happened that caused the powers that be to stop just short of total global annihilation. Apparently some greater threat had appeared out of the blue, but due to conflicting reports I couldn’t get a clear picture of just what that was exactly. Some said it was a global pandemic, others said aliens, while still others were yammering about an impending zombie apocalypse. Go figure. I was more likely to believe the alien invasion scenario than I was the zombie thing. Come on, zombies? I love Romero films as much as the next guy, but that was just a little too far out there for me to believe.
Still, there were some pretty hairy reports about massive riots and waves of civil unrest hitting large cities all across the globe. There was also some talk about cannibalism, which wasn’t surprising if you took into account just how close to starvation much of the global population was at any given moment. Throw in a little hysteria and confusion, and it was easy to see that most of this stuff was hearsay being blown out of proportion. Even so, it made me worry that much more for my folks.
Strangely, reports were coming in of violence even in countries where no nuclear attacks had occurred. Even small nations across the African continent, and island nations and territories like Haiti and Puerto Rico reported they were also experiencing massive waves of violence, rioting, and looting. Again, I figured this was just human nature rearing its ugly head. Most folks with half a brain who hadn’t prepared for something like this would figure out pretty quick that they needed to secure the essentials if they wanted to survive. Add in the fact that roughly 1 in 25 people showed sociopathic tendencies in modern society, and you had the makings for some serious fan-hitting shit.
My only consolation was that my dad was a self-reliant son of a bitch. He had been assigned to Force Recon in the Corps, and had seen some pretty hairy shit while he was active. Understandably he never spoke about it much, but the old man was tough as nails, and I believed he could turn into a s
tone killer if need be. He’d also do anything to keep my mom safe, and kept an arsenal of firearms in their house along with enough ammo to keep a small army at bay. He’d likely dig in for a while until he knew it was safe, then he’d secure reliable transport and bug out as soon as he was able. I just hoped I’d be able to speak to them before he decided it was time to beat feet.
After finishing my meal and listening to the shortwave for about an hour, I decided to check my battery bank and the solar panels I’d put in earlier in the year. I had installed eight panels on the roof where it got the most southern exposure, along with a bank of batteries in an attached shed that sat alongside the cabin. Since the system was tied to the grid, I’d also set it up so I could disconnect the house from the power company and run off my battery bank and panels. Being a natural worry wart, I grabbed a flashlight and headed outside to check the condition of the batteries. I’d gone with sealed gel cells both for the cost and for the lack of maintenance, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to make sure none were showing signs of failure. Once I was sure the system was in good working order, I locked it up and headed back inside for the night.
After that, there was really nothing I could do but keep trying to call my folks and hope for the best. Dad’s vehicles were probably knocked out by the EMP, so he’d need to secure transport before heading out. That could take him while, depending on how bad things got, which meant he might just decide to bunker in place. I really wanted to get a lock on my parent’s location before I left, but finally decided that if I didn’t get them on the phone by morning, I’d head for Austin and hope I got to them before Dad decided to blow town. I continued listening in on the shortwave and calling every 15 to 20 minutes, until I finally dozed off on the couch sometime after midnight.