American Infection (Book 2)

by Smith, Justin

  I had loved Anne, as well. Both Rob and I had slept with her, and at times we had both come close to dating her. It just never worked out. We were more like siblings, all three of us. But I knew someone would die if we saw our plan through. Hell, there was a good chance all of us would die. I remained focused on getting to my parent's place. I was thankful for Anne's sacrifice. I said a silent prayer for Anne and swore to myself I wouldn't give it any more thought.

  As the sun began to its descent into the western sky, we approached Baltimore. For the most part we had stayed far enough off shore, where the water was calmer, that we couldn't see much of what was happening on land. But Baltimore was different. Large plumes of smoke rose high above the city, carried toward the bay by an easterly wind. For the first time, we saw signs of a military response. Helicopters and fighter jets occasionally flew by overhead, moving fast toward their mission. Every ten minutes or so, the sound of an explosion would echo over the water and another column of smoke would ascend into the atmosphere.

  I had followed the riots of April 2015. I had blasted the looters as savages, but now I feared for their safety. Surely the citizens of Baltimore, regardless of their skin color or occupation, had banded together for protection. Even so, the frequency of military aircraft heading to and from the city indicated that no amount of cooperation had prevented the spread of the infection. The city was burning.

  ***

  Tuesday, 5:45 p.m.

  The smoke hovering over Baltimore had faded from view about an hour ago. Since then, the shoreline had been nothing but a skinny strip of sand where the land met the waves, with a dense forest behind it. Consulting his nautical maps, Matt believed this to be an area just south of Aberdeen Proving Ground, the Army's oldest weapons testing installation. He turned the boat and head toward shore.

  "What are you doing?" asked Melissa.

  "That beach is completely deserted," Matt replied, pointing at the shore. "It's a strip of land like three hundred yards wide, with a marsh on the other side. No one lives there. If we keep going, we're gonna spend another night sleeping in the boat. I say we stop here for the night and get our legs back."

  "How far is the Susquehanna?" I asked, referring to the river that would lead us into Pennsylvania.

  "Maybe another two hours," Matt said. "But everything between here and there is pretty populated. And it'll get even worse as we head upstream. This might be our only chance to rest on land for another night or two."

  "I vote yes," Sarah said, standing and stretching, staring out at the shore now just a football field away.

  "I like that idea too," Rob said, the longest string of words he'd managed since this morning. "Give us a chance to collect our thoughts and figure out what the hell we're doing."

  Matt cut the throttle as the Wakesetter neared land, allowing the tide to carry it to shore. Rob and I hopped into the waist‐deep water. We each carried a rope attached to the bow, and pulled the boat up onto the dry sand, above the breaking waves. Holly leaped onto the beach and immediately ran to the tree line and squatted. Matt offered his hand as Sarah and Melissa stepped onto a seat, sat on the edge and slid to the ground below. He handed the grill and fishing gear down to Rob before jumping off himself.

  The sand along the bay was rockier than that along the Atlantic shore. Not as granular, it was littered with stones and pebbles of various shapes, sizes and colors. Still, Melissa crawled to her knees, turned over onto her back, and fell asleep within minutes. Holly lay beside her and did the same.

  Rob rigged up a fishing pole and waded into the water thirty feet out, just past the small, crashing waves of the bay. Matt tied a hook and some bait onto the other pole, rolled a joint and joined Rob. They shared the smoke in silence, and then went separate directions so as not to tangle their lines.

  "I'm gonna start a fire. Wanna help me find some wood?" I asked Sarah, as everyone else went about their business. She nodded.

  It took ten minutes before we came to the other side of the thin strip of trees, overlooking a marsh of tall grasses and meandering pools. Herons seemed to glide effortlessly, searching for a meal, while unseen frogs and crickets and critters chirped their evening melodies. Neither Sarah nor I had spoken, though neither of us had picked up any fallen branches either, lost in our own thoughts.

  "What do you think happened to my parents?" Sarah asked, still staring straight ahead. She asked the question casually, as though we were discussing dinner plans.

  "What do you want me to say, Sarah?" I responded. "This whole thing is fucked."

  "Yeah, but what's worse? To be killed by those things or turn into one?" she continued. "Why is this happening? Why them?"

  I could hear her throat forcing out the words, fighting not to cry. Sarah couldn't hold back and thrust her face into my chest as the tears erupted like a summer storm. Her sobs echoed like thunder, and all I could do was hold her tightly, and make sure she knew she was safe, if only for this moment. She deserved to cry. I hadn't seen her really let go since she had shown up on my doorstep two days earlier.

  After several long minutes, the guttural sobs slowed to occasional twitches and Sarah's eyes ran out of tears. She pushed herself away from me and stared at the ground for a moment, and then she looked directly into my eyes. I met her gaze and shook my head sympathetically, unsure of what to say.

  But apparently Sarah was on an emotional roller coaster, and the ride wasn't over yet.

  Sarah ripped her tank top over her head, revealing a black bra and a toned tummy. She was still breathing deeply, and her full, round breasts heaved twice before she flung herself at me. She nearly knocked me over as she threw her arms around my neck and pressed her lips to mine, opening her mouth once I settled into the moment.

  Sarah quickly unsnapped her bra and pulled my shirt up to my shoulders, where I pulled it the rest of the way. Our bare chests pressed tightly against one another, and so did our groins; there was no way she couldn't feel my hardness. Sarah kicked off her sneakers, slipped out of her shorts, and then fell to her knees in front of me. She fought briefly with my belt, unbuttoned my pants and slid the zipper down, revealing a swollen bulge in my briefs.

  Sarah pulled off my shorts and sneakers as I raised one foot at a time. Then she stood, grabbing my manhood with both hands.

  "Lay on your back," she whispered.

  I quickly complied, ignoring the discomfort of the sandy ground. Sarah straddled me, leaning down for one more brief, passionate kiss. Sitting back up, she took hold of me again and placed me inside of her. She leaned forward and placed her hands on my chest, allowing herself to fall into a rhythm.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tuesday, 7:15 p.m.

  Sarah and I each carried an armload of wood when we returned to the site of the boat. Rob and Matt had caught nearly a dozen fish and were in the process of de‐boning them over a tarp on the beach. Melissa was awake now, tossing a stick with Holly.

  "What took so long, man?" Rob shouted to me. "We're waiting on a fire to cook dinner, don't wanna burn through propane if we can avoid it."

  "Sorry," I said. "Got a little turned around."

  Sarah and I dropped the wood on the beach and I began constructing a fire. Ten minutes later, with the help of a lighter, the flames were roaring. The sun was beginning to set and the breeze off the water ensured the smoke wasn't visible if anyone happened to be nearby, although we couldn't be sure of the smell. We agreed the infected probably wouldn't associate the odor of smoke with people, but we couldn't be certain. Regardless, I assured the group that, based on our trek through the woods, there was no one in the surrounding area.

  Following another dinner of grilled fish and canned vegetables, we set up a night watch. Matt volunteered to go first, followed by myself and then Rob. We would try to keep it at two hours each, but agreed we should wake someone else if we began to doze.

  ***

  Wednesday, 2 a.m.

  My eyes snapped open at the sound of Holly barking. She was abo
ut twenty feet away, north on the beach. I looked around and saw the rest of the group sleeping. I must have begun dozing off during my watch, I realized. Holly's barks grew louder, interspersed with occasional growls, slowly waking the rest of the group.

  "What's wrong?" Matt asked, brushing Melissa's head off his shoulder as he sat up.

  "I don't know, she just started barking like this," I replied, not sure how long she'd been barking but also not wanting to let on that I'd fallen asleep.

  "We gotta get everyone on the boat," Matt said, hopping to his feet. "Let's go, get up," he repeated as he shook Melissa's shoulder.

  I reached over and gave Sarah a shake. She had fallen asleep with her head on my lap, but I had moved away from her at the start of my watch so I could pace the beach to stay awake. By the time Sarah stood up, Rob had woken from the commotion as well.

  I called Holly to come, but she continued to bark and growl at some unseen threat. I didn't bother to fight with her as we loaded the supplies onto the boat and helped the girls climb into the bow. Matt followed the girls and hopped into the captain's chair.

  Rob and I began pushing the boat into the bay when we heard a yelp and a whimper. We turned to see an empty beach; no sign of Holly. I called for her again, but there was no response. No barking or growling. Just silence. And a voice in my head telling me the cry had belonged to Holly.

  When the boat was far enough off shore, Matt started the engine, letting it idle. Melissa and Sarah took Rob's hand and helped hoist him into the boat.

  "Holly! Holly, come here girl!" I yelled, sloshing through the water back toward the beach. No response. No dog in sight. I was frantic with guilt.

  "Dude, get your ass up here!" Rob shouted. "We won't leave without her, but…"

  Before Rob could finish his sentence, the moonlight illuminated a horde of infected thundering down the beach, maybe 50 yards away.

  I uttered an expletive before turning toward the boat. I lifted my knees high, crashing through the shallow water, and then leaped to grasp the rail. Rob grabbed both of my hands and fell backwards, pulling me into the boat on top of him. Matt threw it in gear and cut the wheel to the right, moving briefly closer to shore before veering further out.

  We watched from a distance as dozens of infected hit the water. They continued to run toward the boat, but gradually slipped beneath the surface as the sandy bottom descended. Apparently they didn't mind getting wet, but they certainly couldn't swim.

  "Do you see what they're wearing?" Matt asked, to no one in particular.

  I squinted my eyes in an effort to see them more clearly, but it was difficult in the darkness.

  "Camo. They're from the base, the training facility," Matt said, answering himself. Now I could make them out. Camo shirts, tucked into camo pants, tucked into Army‐issue boots. Jesus, I thought, if a military base is overrun, how is the rest of the country doing? I knew the answer, but refused to give up hope that I'd reach my parents.

  Matt dropped anchor off shore and we waited for any sign of Holly. Eventually the stream of infected stopped, all of them having disappeared beneath the water. As the sun began to rise at our backs, illuminating an empty beach, I acknowledged she was gone. I gave Matt a simple nod. He pulled up the anchor, cranked the engine and headed north.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Wednesday, 10 a.m.

  Shades of pink, red and purple had creased across the sky at dawn. An old adage stated "red sky at night, sailor's delight; red sky at morning, sailor's take warning." It was proven true this day. By mid‐morning, clouds had rolled in and begun dumping buckets on the weary travelers. After two days of sweltering heat and inescapable sun, though, no one seemed to mind much. The storm had brought higher waves, slowing our march north, but otherwise was a welcome respite.

  The boat felt lonely without Holly prancing around on the deck, resting her head on the knee of whoever she felt needed cheering up. Between Tom, Anne and Holly, we had lost three friends and allies in 48 hours. Putting Holly aside, that was one human casualty per day. I silently wondered who would be next. I was gripped by anxiety as I considered the possibility that our march north had been a suicide mission from the beginning.

  There were far fewer boats this far north in the bay. I attributed that to the population density of the surrounding areas. We were almost directly between Philadelphia and Washington, D.C., where two of the four initial explosions and outbreaks had occurred. Perhaps these folks hadn't had time to realize what was happening, to plan an escape. When we had first sailed into the bay, further south near St. Mary's County, there were dozens of vessels, large and small. Since pulling away from our beach camp at sunrise, we had only seen one other boat, far enough to the east that it was nothing more than a speck on the horizon.

  By mid‐day we had located the mouth of the Susquehanna River. The city of Havre de Grace sat on the western shore formed by the confluence of the river and the Chesapeake Bay. Much like Baltimore, the city burned. Columns of black smoke flowed toward the clouds. Unlike Baltimore, there was no military presence. No helicopters hovering over the city. No fighter jets criss‐crossing the sky above, dropping bombs on pockets of infected. The occasional gunshot echoed out from the city, but not nearly as many as we had heard passing Baltimore. The residents of Havre de Grace were on their own, abandoned by a government that had bigger problems. And we could only imagine how bad things truly were on land.

  ***

  Wednesday, 4:45 p.m.

  Matt's nautical maps extended about two miles north of where the Chesapeake Bay met the Susquehanna River. We continued up the river, thinking it would take us to Harrisburg, where we would have a straight shot to Allentown, covering mostly farmland. However, ten miles north of Havre de Grace, Rob was the first to spot the dam. Conowingo Dam is five miles south of the Pennsylvania border. A two‐lane road runs across the top of the dam, connecting the eastern and western shores of the Susquehanna. On the western side of the river was a hydro station built to regulate water levels behind the dam, but it appeared abandoned. On the eastern side was a flat, rocky outcrop several acres in size. Beyond the rocks and shallow water was nothing but grass and trees, extending up a hill to meet the road.

  "What the fuck?" Matt muttered, under his breath.

  "This is OK, Matt," I said, trying to be positive. "We weren't gonna stay in the boat forever."

  Everyone knew we couldn't stay in the boat forever. But not everyone was ready to venture onto land just yet. Here, on the boat, we were safe. On land, the infected were in charge. At least that's how it seemed.

  Just south of the dam was a small island, maybe three football fields long and one field wide. There were no houses, no signs of life, and ‐ hopefully ‐ no infected on the island. Matt swung the boat around and eased slowly up the bank until Rob and I were able to jump off and pull it securely ashore.

  Rob and I helped Melissa and Sarah down onto the rocky beach of the island. The girls immediately crossed the narrow shore and sat beneath the shade of a massive oak. I hadn't realized how exhausted everyone was, and how filthy we had become. We were all wearing the same clothes we'd had on at Matt's house on Monday. The leftover salt of dried sweat formed rings around our collars and armpits. Our shorts had streaks of dirt and sand. And I was pretty sure no one had changed their socks or underwear. I didn't even want to think about that one.

  "We're gonna have to abandon the boat," I said. "I think we should stay here for the night, rather than set out on land with only a few hours of daylight left. In the mean time, I'm gonna head up to the road and scout it out."

  Rob, refusing to miss out on an opportunity for action, volunteered to accompany me. Matt agreed to stay behind with the girls and try to catch some dinner.

  I hopped back onto the boat and found a plastic garbage bag. Rob and I stripped down to our briefs and sneakers and threw the rest of our clothes in the bag, along with two Berettas. We waded into the water, which was much cooler than the bay had been. Chest deep, w
e began swimming; I worked on my sidestroke as I held the bag over my head. Five minutes and thirty yards later, we reached the eastern bank of the Susquehanna and got dressed.

  The eastern bank wasn't really the shore just yet. It was more like a wide swatch of rocks that jutted out into the river. For the most part it was just an extension of the shoreline, but it had pockets of water as though the river continued to run underneath it. Rob and I carefully worked our way across the rocky landscape, simultaneously inching north toward the dam and the road that ran across it. We quick‐stepped the last few yards up a steep slope and carefully walked to the center of the two‐lane road that would lead us away from the river.

  It was deserted as far as I could see. On both sides of the river, the road appeared to bend north. I began walking east, away from the sun. I had no idea where we were, but I was certain we were west of where we were needed to be. I heard Rob take a few long strides to catch up, his wet sneakers slapping the pavement.

  "What's the plan?" Rob asked.

  "We've gotta head east, so that's where I'm going," I replied. "I figure we'll follow this road until we figure out what road it is, first off. And then maybe even get an idea where it goes, if it runs into a town, that kinda thing."

  "And if we run into any of those infected?" Rob asked.

  "We shoot. But we don't head back to the boat until we're sure there's none following us."

  I realized eventually everyone would have to fight the infected, but I didn't want to lead them back to Sarah and the others if I could avoid it.

  ***

  Wednesday, 5:45 p.m.

  An hour later, Rob and I carefully descended the hill from the road to the bank of the river. We stripped down and put our clothes and the Berettas into the same plastic bag, then swam the thirty yards from one rocky beach to another. Before I could get my pants on, Sarah ran over and gave me a wet kiss on the lips. I returned the kiss and tried not to act surprised by such a public display of affection. I had thought we were keeping things low key.