by T. W. Brown
“San Diego County,” JoJo finally spoke. “Only done two years stateside on a UUMV.”
“Same,” Thad said. “Only I did a nickel on a distribution charge.”
“And you?” JoJo asked. Mackenzie was lost in this conversation. Although, she had an idea these three were sharing some sort of verbal rap sheet.
“No state,” Juan shook his head. “All county, Clackamas, Multnomah, Washington. All on petty possessions, but I been out and clean almost a year.”
“Keith’s done the most,” Thad said with a smile. “He has a temper which got him in a tight-spot for assault and intent.”
“So,” Juan glanced at the woman beside him, “we all good, or are you guys gonna bounce and find someplace else?”
“I think we’d like to stay,” Thad said. “This is a nice set-up. But three of you couldn’t hold it if something a little bigger than us three pleasure-cruisers showed up. And with the weather due to turn in a couple months…I’d just us soon have my ass someplace I don’t have to worry too much about…what’d you call ‘em?...Deaders?”
Juan nodded. He looked over at Mackenzie who was being uncharacteristically quiet. She looked back and shrugged, then glanced past him to look at her mother. Margaret still sat slumped over, head down, hands fidgeting nervously in her lap.
“There’s a lot of work to do here before things get too nasty,” Juan finally spoke.
“Like that fence you’re building down on the beach?” Thad asked.
“Yeah,” JoJo piped up. “What’s that about, I mean what good is a barbed wire fence?”
“The deaders can’t figure out how to duck through,” Juan said.
“So they just barge through,” JoJo shrugged. “Big deal.”
“Actually,” Mackenzie spoke up, “unless there’s lots, and unless they see food…us…they just kinda mill about.”
“So you go out everyday and just pop ‘em?” Thad said, nodding as he began to understand their logic.
“I’d like to have the island circled before the end of summer,” Juan said. “Also, I’ve got a boat…a bit smaller than yours, and I thought it would do good to make a few supply runs. While I was out, I figured I’d look for people…groups with kids seem the least likely to be full of crazies.”
“Well…we ain’t got no kids,” Thad smiled and patted JoJo’s solid but round belly. “At least not yet,”
That earned some laughter from everybody at the table, even Margaret. There was a moment of silence and a lot of eye contact. Some nods between Thad and JoJo.
“We’d like to stay,” Thad turned to Margaret, “if that’s okay with you.”
“That would be nice.” Margaret wiped her eyes.
“Now,” JoJo pulled up his shirt, exposing his belly, rubbing it with both hands, “what’s for dinner?”
“The way I see it,” Chad stood on a downed log, facing the twenty-seven people who’d magaged to escape the overrun FEMA center on the outskirts of Modesto, “we need to stay away from the towns. Our best chance of survival is to move up into the hills.”
“What about when the government gets this under control, who’s gonna let us know?” a tall, heavy-set woman with her dirty, dishwater-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail shouted from the rear of the crowd.
“Penny, is it?” Chad asked. The woman nodded once. “I don’t see that as a realistic possibility.”
A murmur began to rise from the group and Chad knew he needed to take control before things got out of hand. Raising his hands and calling for quiet, he was a little surprised at how quickly the group was cowed.
“We are gonna need to stick tight as a unit if we’re gonna survive this,” Chad said, his eyes scanning the faces turned up to him, looking for who would likely be an ally as well as who might be an enemy. “And I strongly urge all of you to stay with this group. But we obviously can’t make anybody stay if they don’t want to. All I ask is that you consider how much better our odds are if we stay together and watch out for each other,”
“So you’re gonna be the leader?” Kimberly pushed through the group, glaring up defiantly.
“I’m not leading a damn thing, Kim.” Chad shook his head. “I’m simply offering up a possibility. Those of you who want to come, we welcome. If you don’t…then do whatever. I really don’t care. Ronni and I are headin’ out first thing.”
“Shouldn’t we at least try and gather some supplies?” Brett asked. He shrugged sheepishly when Chad looked his way.
Chad considered the comment. Actually, they were thin when it came to anything: food, weapons, ammo, basic camping gear. In his desire to get away from this madness, he’d ignored the fact that they really had very little. If they were to survive in the wilds of someplace like…Yosemite.
“You’re right, Brett.” Chad nodded. “Those of you coming with me meet me in five minutes at my tent. I know where I’m going, and I want to make a list of what we need. Then we’ll decide how we can go about obtaining it.”
“And those of us who don’t want to go with you?” Duane Bowers stepped up next to Kimberly and put as much challenge in his voice as his puny five-seven, buck-thirty frame could manage.
“Do whatever you like, I honestly don’t give a fuck.” Chad said with a big smile.
Hopping off the log and heading for his tent, he caught Duane and Kimberly whispering with a group. A very small group…three others besides themselves. In truth, he sincerely hoped that those two chose not to come. Things were gonna be dicey for a while, and having to fight with them over everything would make things just that much worse.
“Daddy?” Ronni stood in front of their tent with two girls about the same age, fourteen or fifteen. My PO would so not be cool with this, Chad couldn’t help but think. He thought he recognized one of the girls as Tammi Rodriguez, one of Donna’s sister’s kids. The girl had the misfortune of being one of those very homely, freckled, pale-skinned redheads. The other girl was doing her best to cling to a goth image that was now as dead as those things that clawed through the breach at the FEMA center formely known as Modesto High School.
“Yeah?” Chad tried to hide the instant awkwardness he felt the moment he was around his daughter.
“Can Tammi and Krystal come with us?” Ronni asked.
“I assume that their parents aren’t here?” Chad sighed. The last thing he needed was to be responsible for a trio of teenaged girls. One was plenty, thank you.
“Dad!” Ronni snapped.
“What?” He saw the stricken looks on the two girls. Just that quick they’d gone from know-it-all, obnoxious teens to frightened children. “Look, girls, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything. And of course you can come with us. Just be aware, there’s gonna be a lot of hiking.”
“My dad took me hiking a couple times when he had me for the weekend,” Tammi’s voice was hollow and so sad.
Chad wanted to hug the girl, it just didn’t feel like something he should do. He wondered how much of that was the years in prison with the label ‘child-molester’ hanging off him. And that label was no secret to many of the people in the camp. If he knew Kimberly, everybody would be aware before too long. She was his own personal yard sign.
“Least your dad showed sometimes,” Krystal sighed.
Jesus, Chad screamed inside his head, didn’t anybody stay together and raise their kids in a functional family? He looked at the three girls huddled together and tried his best to smile without looking creepy. “This isn’t gonna be a lot of fun, girls, but we’ll need to get in as many miles as we can every single day until we’ve reached our destination,”
“Where we headed?” Brett walked up, patting Chad on the shoulder.
“Yosemite Valley.” Chad jumped at the sudden contact, instantly self-conscious that he’d been standing alone with three teen girls.
Brett considered the answer for a second, then began nodding, a smile growing on his face. “That’s an excellent idea. And all the more reason we need to supp
ly up. We better consider the probability of having to survive the winter up there.”
“We’re gonna need a few trucks,” Chad said. “I don’t think that will be a problem either. The issue will be getting in and out of town. Those things treat engine noise like a dinner bell.”
“Heads up.” Brett elbowed Chad.
Sure enough, Kimberly and Duane were headed his way with a small, angry-looking flock. Chad blinked. He hadn’t remembered seeing Glenn Kollars at the FEMA center. And there were two other men that didn’t look familiar, but he knew Glenn. Glenn was the arresting officer the day he’d been hauled off.
“Seems you’re back to your old ways,” Glenn sneered, casting a glance at the huddled trio of young girls.
Chad felt something cold churn in his guts. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Instinctively, he stepped between the approaching group and his daughter.
“Talkin’ about your tending to like ‘em young, Mister Meyers.” Glenn pulled up a good arm’s length from Chad. “And it’d be just like your type to take advantage of this sorta situation. We been dealin’ with the likes of you in oddly high numbers since this whole thing kicked off.”
“And where exactly have you been hidin’ these past months?” Brett stepped up beside Chad. “Ain’t seen hide nor hair of the police in quite a while.”
“I’m guessin’ this bitch has been hidin’ under his bed, pissin’ Kool-Aid,” a voice said from behind Brett and Chad.
“Mister Colson,” Glenn’s gaze locked on something over Chad’s shoulder, “last I saw you was during a ninety-day stay for drunk and disorderly.”
“And now there aren’t any bars to save your ass, so talk some shit now.” Scott Colson stepped up to the other side of Chad. He was holding a sawed-off shotgun.
“Takin’ up with child molesters now, Mister Colson,” Glenn challenged.
“I don’t know this guy from Adam.” Scott glanced at Chad, then back to Glenn. “You I do know. I’ve been in that death-trap FEMA center with this guy…and most these others. That bitch beside you fucked every soldier she could convince that her herpes was dormant…the rest she gave head. That scrawny punk next to her is usally either spun on meth or sleepin’ off a week long run. In any case, he ain’t lifted a finger once to do a damn thing for anybody. And when the fence went down, both those two found a hole to hide in till it was done. These two done nothin’ but bust ass and risk themselves,” he said, waving a hand at Chad and Brett.
“I don’t know ‘bout the hippie,” Glenn indicated Brett, “but I do know this one.” He locked eyes with Chad. “I roll into this camp, and first thing I see is him off to the side with three little girls—”
“You leave my dad alone!” Ronni barged past Chad. “He hasn’t hurt anybody and my momma says that whore,” her hand thrust out towards Kimberly holding a large knife, “she did what she did ‘cause my daddy left her for another woman.”
Glenn and the other two men that had argued with him went for their guns. Glenn recovered first. “Whoa there, Missy,” he said, gesturing for the others to come off their guns. “Let’s put down the knife.”
“Then you get that woman and you get away from us. My daddy is leavin’ this place and you can’t come,” Ronni shrieked, tears running down her face.
“It’s okay, sweetie.” Chad placed his hands on his daughter’s shoulders, gently pulling her back towards him.
“Tell them to go away,” Ronni insisted.
“I will,” Chad said softly, “just put the knife down and let me deal with this.”
“Listen to your daddy,” Glenn nodded.
“Here’s how it’s gonna work,” Scott stepped past Ronni. “A group of us are leaving here in about an hour. Anybody who has a problem with this guy,” he tilted his head toward Chad, “it’s simple. Don’t come. Me, I’m for getting’ away from Modesto and the populated areas like he says. That seems a smart and sensible idea. Come. Don’t come. I don’t care. But anybody tries to stop us from leavin’…well…there’s likely to be some shootin’.”
Chad noticed for the first time that everybody who’d escaped from the FEMA center had gathered around; many were holding weapons. There was a long tense silence. Then, people started drifting to stand around Chad, Ronni, Brett, and Scott. Not all of them, but a good majority.
Eventually, a group of nineteen men, women and children began packing up all their stuff. Within an hour they were on the move, leaving behind the eleven that chose to stay. There’d been a couple of shoulder bumps and one nose-to-nose face-off, but other than that, the groups separated cleanly.
“Last chance!” Chad stopped and faced the cluster of angry faces watching them leave. He scanned every person, making eye contact with each one. “I really think you’re all making a mistake staying here…it’s too close to town.”
“You tryin’ to convince us…or yourself?” Glenn challenged.
“I’m just extending the offer one more time,” Chad replied.
There were no takers.
17
Geek Girl
“Get up, Kevin,” Heather urged.
The pitch-black darkness made it impossible to tell if he was responding to her gentle shaking. She patted his cheek a few times. Another barrage of distant gunfire made her jump.
“Kevin,” she pleaded, “Wake. Up.”
“What?” Kevin moved, his hands coming up in a weak effort to defend himself.
“There’s trouble.” Heather grabbed both his hands firmly in hers.
“Trouble?” Kevin’s voice began to gain clarity, began to sound more alert and awake.
“Listen,” she urged.
Kevin did as she asked. There it was. Distant, but very recognizable gunfire. And, from the sounds, there was a lot. Every so often it was punctuated by an explosion.
He attempted to sit up…very slowly. His head still thundered and there was a considerable amount of pain throughout his body. However…
“Did you take a bath or something?” Kevin asked. “You smell really good. Not…dirty or sweaty. I’m not sayin’—”
“Hush,” Heather slapped him on the arm. “And yes, I did clean up. I changed clothes. Also…I sorta cleaned you up, too.” That last statement came out in a rush of words almost too fast to follow.
The realization of what she said sank in, Kevin was grateful for the darkness because he felt his skin flush with heat. He allowed his consciousness to drift and do a bit of a self-scan. Yes, he did feel cleaner. There was something wrapped around his head. And…was he wearing boxers?
“So what do we do?” Heather asked, hearing a series of explosions happen in quick succession.
“I’m gonna try standing first,” Kevin said. “You need to find anything good for carrying and we will search the home …find some food, and if we’re lucky, weapons.”
“You mean the two shotguns and the five boxes of shells I’ve got sitting on the table out in the hall, and the big carry bag full of softball equipment that I dumped out and filled with food?”
“Good for you, Heather,” Kevin said, admiration clear in his voice.
“You said we need to always plan for every event quickly.” Heather felt her cheeks tighten with a huge grin. “I decided that while you slept, I needed to make sure we were ready to go if we had to run out of here in a hurry.”
“And you did a great job,” Kevin said, sitting up slowly. “All we need is some water and—”
“I have four canteens full, too,” Heather cut him off in her excitement. “Only, I couldn’t find any of those purifying filtered pitchers. And they didn’t have that much bottled water to begin with so I used most of it filling the canteens and the rest when I woke you each hour to drink something.”
“You woke me each hour?” Kevin asked, not recalling one single time.
“Yeah, Cary said it was important not to let you sleep long, but he wasn’t sure why…or how long. So I just woke you up every time the wind-up timer dinged,” Heather explained.
Kevin struggled to sit fully upright. Reaching over, he clasped Heather’s shoulders, “You did great.” Using her to help himself stay steady without trying to look like it, he climbed to his feet. Something felt weird.
“Some socks and your boots are over by the door,” Heather said.
“Jeez,” Kevin groaned as he slid down on his butt and began pulling on his socks, “sounds like a war zone.”
“You think it’s more of those bad men?”
“Who else would it be?”
“It sure sounds like lots of guns.” The fear in her voice crept in as she began conceding the control back to Kevin.
“That much shooting could mean a few possibilities.”
“Such as?”
“Well,” Kevin started pulling on the first boot, “they might’ve rolled into that Heath mob, which is my hope because it could be more than they can deal with.” He grabbed the other boot. “Or, they could be mowing down everything in their path hoping to flush something out.”
“Like what?” Heather handed Kevin the shotgun as he stood.
“Us.” Kevin checked the weapon, ensuring that there was one in the chamber and that the safety was off.
Heather slung her shotgun over her shoulder along with the canteens. Kevin reached for the bag, but Heather put her hand on his arm. “Are you gonna be okay?”
Kevin considered how he felt. Terrible. But he certainly felt like he could walk. Hopefully there wouldn’t be the need to run…much. There was only one thing truly troubling him: he couldn’t remember a damn thing about today. In fact, he wasn’t entirely certain it’d only been one day. He remembered the plan, and apparently they’d put it into motion. There were flashes of images and he knew Cary was gone…he’d been there or close by when Cary died.