Fortunes & Failures - 03

by T. W. Brown

  “It’s me, Heather. Don’t shoot. I’ve got water,” he called back.

  A pair of ghostly pale hands reached down to offer help with the last couple of feet up and in. The stench assaulted his nostrils immediately after having been out in the relatively fresh air. It was an instant reminder of the living conditions that he and Heather had endured the past week. That only strengthened his resolve that it was time to quit this place.

  As he twisted the top off of a bottle of water and handed it to Heather. As she gulped it down, he related what he’d seen. He skipped over the incident with the creeper. He explained the idea of trying to get the truck that they’d passed—if it would start—and brining it to the door once they’d hauled everything out to the curb.

  “What if bunches of zombies show up?”

  “I realize the plan isn’t perfect,” Kevin admitted. “Hell, it barely qualifies as half-assed. It’s just that we have this window of opportunity. I can’t explain why there is little to no activity out there right now, but this is a gift horse we don’t want to look in the mouth. We are in the heart of downtown…I doubt many folks actually lived here. The population masses would be way more dangerous. Plus, we both know that those things start following something and just keep going until they corner it in a building.

  “I imagine huge cities like Chicago and New York had it worse than these small towns, which is why these might be where we look for future supply runs.”

  “What about those men we were running from…the ones who kidnapped the Bergmans?” Heather asked after draining the second bottle of water.

  “From the looks of things on the street, they took quite a hit,” Kevin explained. “I’d be willing to bet that they took a majority of the zombies with them when they bugged out. That might also explain why the streets are so empty.”

  “So when do we do this?”

  “Normally I’d suggest close to sunset,” Kevin polished off his second bottle and suppressed a belch, “but I think we need to go now. Who knows what might happen, and I don’t want to risk those things coming back.”

  Not that there was much, but they grabbed what meager belongings they still had and climbed down. Kevin had Heather sit on his shoulders and put their knotted line back up and close the hatch. Never knew if it might become necessary to return, and there was no sense risking somebody else finding their little hideout.

  They made their way down the stairs and through the bank to the street. Kevin was halfway through the window frame when he realized that Heather wasn’t right behind him. He glanced back to find her standing over a cluster of dead zombies and what was left of one of Shaw’s men.

  “C’mon,” Kevin hissed.

  “Thery ripped him in half,” Heahther whispered. “And on his face…the look…you can see it was so painful.”

  Great grasp of the obvious, his mind automatically retorted. “We have to get moving,” he said, shoving that abrasive and sarcastic voice that he was so accustomed to using back into the recesses of his mind. This was a chance to change. She didn’t see him as dorky or socially awkward. This girl didn’t know about the time he wet his pants in gym class during third grade. She had no idea that his entire four years of high school was a nightmare, or that the varsity quarterback, Mike Meyers, chose him as his favorite target for bullying and public ridicule.

  Heather joined him on the sidewalk and followed silently to the restaurant. He led her through the dining area and back to the kitchen. She paused when she spotted the creeper, but didn’t say a word. When they reached the open storerooms, she gasped. “There’s so much!” Her hands ran over the shelves like she needed the tactile sensation to confirm what her eyes beheld.

  “Lets’s start with the cases of bottled water,” Kevin said. “Then we can just start grabbing what we find most appealing. Every couple of trips we should check the street.”

  With that, they went to work. Twice they had to stop when a lone shambler and a small pack passed by. Neither time did they so much as slow or change direction. Eventually, there was a decent stack of supplies on the curb.

  “Now for the hard part,” Kevin announced after he had finished off a can of stewed tomatoes, a jar of marinated mushrooms, and several bottles of water. “Only switch to your shotgun if it gets hairy. Otherwise, stick to the handhelds.”

  Heather nodded and followed him out onto the street. The sun was directly overhead and, as he’d expected, it was sweltering and muggy. The air above the street rippled as the heat reflected off of the asphalt.

  Kevin kept his newly acquired and sturdy blade in his hand while Heather still carried the iron-tipped poker that Mike had fashioned. Reaching the corner, they peeked around the building.

  “Holy crap,” Heather breathed as she stepped around Kevin for a better look.

  The truck Kevin had remembered seeing was now parked in the middle of the street. He remembered distinctly that it had been up on the curb before.

  The bed was piled high with boxes. From this distance, it was impossible to tell what the boxes contained. All of that was certainly enough to elicit Heather’s response. However, it was the three people standing in front of the truck, all with variations of the deer-in-the-headlights expression on their faces.

  Two of the figures shook off the shock after a few seconds and began to run towards them. The third figure seemed stunned and at a complete loss as to what she should do.

  “Kevin!” one of them squealed as she closed the distance considerable faster than the other visibly pregnant one.

  “Shari.” Kevin slid his weapon into its sturdy leather sheath in time to be able to catch the girl as she leaped into his arms.

  The second girl reached him, throwing her arms around his waist, her muffled sobs feeling like puffs of heat against his side.

  “You’re alive!” Shari grabbed his face in her hands, planting a huge kiss on his mouth.

  “What…how…?” His eyes flicked to the truck and the lone figure still standing beside it. The third person was obviously male, and visibly nervous as he shifted from one foot to the other, his head on a swivel searching for trouble.

  “It was horrible,” the girl nestled against his side whimpered.

  “Maybe we could do this later,” Heather said as she stepped closer to the trio while still watching the nervous man by the truck that they were about to commandeer.

  “Where’s Mike and Darrin?” Shari asked, ignoring the rude girl trying to pull the plug on such an amazing and unlikely reunion.

  “Dead,” Kevin said with a grimace. “But Heather is right, we can catch up on things later. Right now we should try to get out of here while the coast is clear.”

  “I’m staying with you,” the tiny, but very pregnant girl, clinging to Kevin’s side insisted.

  “We can all stay together, Erin,” Kevin said as he hugged the girl. “Do you guys have room for more supplies in that truck?”

  “Lots.” Shari nodded.

  “Well, we’ve got a storeroom’s worth of canned food waiting just around the corner in front of an Italian restaurant.”

  “I’ll tell Peter.” Shari tossed a glance back at the man still standing nervously by the truck. “Do you need to ride back?”

  “It’s only right around the corner,” Kevin replied with a shake of his head. “We were actually coming to see if that truck worked. We were going to snag it and load it up ourselves.”

  “How funny,” Shari laughed, sounding anything but.

  “Are you guys ready to roll?” Kevin asked.

  “Yep,” Shari nodded, “we just finished loading everything Peter said was important and was fixing to leave ourselves.”

  “Then meet us right over at the building with the stack of boxes in the front.”

  “I’m staying with you.” Erin squeezed tighter.

  “Okay,” Kevin slipped an arm in between himself and the pregnant teen, “but we have to get moving. I don’t want to be on this street anymore.”

  “I c
an’t believe it’s you!” Shari said with a smile, hugging Kevin once more before turning and jogging back to the big truck.

  “C’mon.” Kevin steered Erin around the corner and back towards the restaurant.

  The sputter and rumble of a big diesel engine sounded like thunder, shattering the relative silence of the dead city of Newark, Ohio. Kevin and Heather both jumped and picked up the pace.

  “So,” Erin wedged in between the two, “who’s this?”

  “Oh yeah!” Kevin slapped his forehead. “Heather, Erin Bergman. Erin, Heather Godwin.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Heather patted the younger girl on the arm.

  “Nice to meet anybody,” Erin replied.

  “Of course the other girl was Shari,” Kevin added, then glanced down at Erin. “What about Ruth and your mom?”

  The girl stopped in her tracks. Heather kept going but Kevin stopped a few steps later when he realized that Erin was no longer beside him. She was standing in the middle of the street, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “What the hell?” Heather trotted back.

  “Ruth’s one of those things,” Erin sobbed.

  “We don’t have time for this,” Heather explained as she pointed up the street. There was definite movement in the shadows. Looking the other way, the direction they were heading, showed more of the same.

  “Erin,” Kevin croutched down in front of the girl, “I know you’re upset, and I probably shouldn’t have asked a stupid question like that right now—”

  “Ya think?” Heather quipped, chucking him in the ribs with an elbow.

  “I need you to hold it together for just a bit longer. Can you do that for me, Erin?”

  The girl scrubbed at her face with her hands and nodded. The trip continued, reaching the restaurant as the five-ton truck came around the corner. It pulled up and a young man leaned out of the driver’s side window. “We better hurry!”

  “Everything is right by the door,” Kevin agreed as the man climbed down. Shari leaped from the back.

  There were various noises of agreement as the four formed an impromptu line with Kevin at one end and the man, Peter, at the other. They made short work of the stack of canned goods. The entire time, singles and groups of the undead converged in their slow but steady gait on the source of the noise. Soon, their moans could be heard over the idling engine of the large truck.

  “Last one,” Kevin called.

  “Is that everything?” Heather asked, a hint of confusion in her voice.

  “Nope,” Kevin answered as he handed the box to Shari. “But it’s all we have time for.”

  “Agreed.” Peter took the box from Heather and slid it onto the bed of the truck. He shut the opened tailgate and jammed the locking pins in place.

  “Heather and I will ride in back,” Kevin said as he climbed up onto the rear bumper.

  “Where are we going?” Heather asked as she was pulled up.

  “For now,” Peter looked over his shoulder at the closing mob, “away from here.”

  “Get us clear and we can plan from there,” Kevin agreed. He joined Heather, taking a seat on one of the boxes. The doors to the cab slammed and the grind of gears sounded as the truck lurched foreward.

  “What about the rest of the stuff?” Heather asked wist-ully, watching the restaurant disappear from view as the truck turned right and accelerated.

  “We can always come back, or someone in need will pass by.”

  “Yeah, somebody like Shaw and his men,” Heather snapped.

  Kevin kept his mouth shut. He had already said the wrong thing once today. Now, Heather was acting weird. Something had her pissed off and he had no idea what that might possibly be.

  There was a small thud and a bounce, jostling both of them as well as sending a couple of boxes tumbling. Kevin looked out the opening slats that ran down the side in time to see a zombie bent at an obscene angle flying through the air.

  “Hang on!” Peter’s voice called over the rev and roar of the engine.

  Instinctively, Kevin grabbed Heather and pulled her in close. A series of thuds and thumps were accompanied by a jerk and shudder. It was as if they were driving over a long series of closely-spaced speed bumps. Over Heather’s head he could see at least a dozen zombies sprawled on the road or tossed across the hoods of the cars sitting abandoned along either side of the street.

  “He’s gonna wreck,” Heather cried.

  “This truck is a monster.” Kevin stroked her hair in an attempt to be comforting. “It can take much worse.”

  Inside, his mind was screaming in panic. Was this guy an idiot? He was gonna wreck and get them all killed! Everything shifted to the left as they took a right turn at what he was certain to be too fast for the truck to keep from tipping over. Oh yeah, he thought, this guy’s gonna kill us all!

  They straightened out. If Kevin’s internal telemetry was correct, they were now going back the way they came. Another left turn brought everything sliding and tumbling to the right of the cargo area. They turned again and again, each time tossing Kevin, Heather, and the dozens of boxes and a couple of odd shaped, hard plastic cases around.

  “What the hell is he trying to do?” Heather shoved a box off of her lap after another sharp turn. “He’s trying to kill us!”

  “No,” Kevin rubbed a goose egg on his left forearm that promised to turn a lovely shade of purple later, “he’s trying to confuse and shake the zombies. I think he has an idea of where he wants to go, but he’s trying to ensure he can go there without bringing a horde of these things with him.”

  “Yeah,” Heather snapped, bracing her arms against a box and the side of the bed of the truck as they took another hard right, “well when we get there…I’m kicking him in the balls.”

  Eventually, the truck stayed going straight; the only big jostle came when they sped over a set of railroad tracks. The engine suddenly cut off. They rolled through a partially burned down residential area and into something resembling a park. The truck veered of the remnants of the road and into the tall grass, coming to a stop amidst a few trees and a bunch of thick shrubs.

  Kevin struggled to his feet, pulling Heather up beside him, then waded through everything to the rear of the truck and jumped down. The doors to the cab opened and Peter, Shari and Erin climbed out.

  “Sorry about all of that,” Peter apologized. Kevin noted that the man’s expression matched the tone of his voice. “I had to try and pull a confuse-and-lose routine on those things to give us a chance.”

  “It’s okay.” Kevin shrugged. “Besides, I think you actually missed a few bumps in the road and were five or ten miles per hour too slow on a couple of those corners.”

  Everybody stood in silence for a few seconds before breaking out into laughter.

  “My name is Peter King by the way,” the man said as he extended his hand.

  “Kevin Dreon,” he clapsed the man’s hand, “and this is Heather Godwin.”

  “I’ve heard a bit about you so I am afraid I’m at a slight advantage.” Peter briefly explained his history and how he came to be captured by Shaw’s men. He told Kevin how things worked at The Basket as well as how extremely well fortified their defenses were.

  Kevin listened, trying his best not to look at Shari or Erin as he heard how the women were treated by Shaw and his men. The more he heard, the more he came to realize that any attempt he might have made to rescue the Bergmans would have most likely ended badly for him and those with him.

  “So,” Kevin dreaded the next question, “what happened to Ruth and Angela?”

  “Ruth was nailed to a cross,” Shari said, obviously fighting back tears. “Whether before or after she was bitten, I don’t know. Occasionaly…they make examples.”

  “She was a helluva fighter.” Kevin put a hand on Shari’s shoulder. The words seemed foolish and far short of the actual emotions he felt upon hearing that the woman he was pretty sure he had fallen in love with, was not only dead, but had suffered a heinous fate.<
br />
  “Angela Bergman is in the pens,” Peter said after being fairly certain that neither Shari nor Erin would want to answer the predictable follow-up question.

  “What are the pens?” Heather asked.

  “It’s where Shaw keeps the women that aren’t claimed by one of his men,” Peter explained. “They are for…recrea-tional use by anybody.”

  “So how did you end up with Shari and Erin?” Kevin asked.

  “I claimed Shari—”

  “You what?” Kevin’s hand was on the handle of his big blade before he realized it.

  “Wait!” Shari stepped in between Peter and Kevin, her hands firmly on Kevin’s chest. “It wasn’t what you think.”

  “This guy claims you and it isn’t what I think?”

  “No!” Shari glanced back at Peter. Kevin noticed something change in her expression. “They were doing terrible things. It was this big joke; see how loud you can make Shari scream and cry. One of them used to make me hold him like a microphone and sing…and that was the least degrading thing.” Her voice cracked and she turned back to Peter and sunk into his open arms.

  “I had to sew her up.” Peter looked at Kevin, daring him to keep hold of his anger. “I claimed her solely for the purpose of taking her away from that.”

  “And Erin?” Kevin asked, aware that he was almost afraid of the answer. Despite all he’d seen, he still struggled to accept how humanity tended to lean so strongly towards depravity.

  “Pregnant females are removed from the general population and kept on one floor,” Peter explained. Kevin noticed that the man hadn’t used the word ‘women’. “One of my duties involved making the rounds and doing the check-ups. Since I knew where Erin was being held, Shari insisted that we not leave without her.”