Day One (Book 1): Alive

by Michael McDonald

  I looked at her and forced a fake smile. “Move on. Don’t you mean move along, like you told those four people the other day right before you murdered them?”

  “My mind has already been made up, be lucky I’m not kicking you out right now in the middle of the night.” She walked away.

  I fought the anger as I paced back and forth in front of the couch. The peaceful sleep I had known only minutes ago was no longer there. I replayed their conversation over and over again, trying to find something I could have done different to change her mind. From what I could see, there was nothing that would have changed the outcome. Our fates were sealed now and only time knew how long we had left. It was a sickening feeling and I thought only once about leaving and letting Kember stay. If I was gone in the morning, then the Young Woman wouldn’t throw the toddler out… or would she?

  I stopped suddenly and looked down at her; the tears formed and ran down my face. I was her daddy, the one that was supposed to protect her against all the evil in the world, yet there was no way in hell I could accomplish that. I was as helpless as she was; only I was able to make the choices that would ultimately get us killed. Her thought process had no concept of life or death. To her the world was an amazing and huge place, full of eye catching wonders where no evil or dastardly deeds existed. In her world, life was a precious and happy thing. I wished that I could feel that way once more, even if it was just for a moment. The joy that I would find there could last me a lifetime.

  I dropped to the floor in front of the couch and buried my face into the covers. There was nothing more I could do… nothing I could say to change the decision made by someone else. All I had any real control over was accepting the choice and dealing with it as best I could.

  Chapter Six.

  I closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver side, took a last long look at the make-shift shelter we had grown so accustom to over the last several days and crawled into the SUV. I stared at the containers like it had been the only home I had ever known and now I was setting off to make my own path through life. The empty feeling roared in my stomach and I was almost sure that I’d throw up in the next few seconds.

  The engine started and we backed up, put the vehicle in drive and slowly started forward, looking in the rear view mirror and side mirror for any sign of the Young Woman. She was nowhere to be found. “Fine. Screw you then, bitch!” I said aloud and gunned the gas. I looked over to see Kember looking back at me with wondering eyes. She appeared to be offended by my words, yet she said nothing nor did she mumble anything. She just stared at me, as if wondering what adventure we were going on or perhaps she was scolding me for getting us kicked out of the only place we had that was safe. Either way I felt worthless.

  The SUV shot down the narrow road and disappeared around a small corner. The Young Woman stepped out onto the road and watched them fade away… slowly raising her hand and waving good bye. “Keep to the road like I told you,” she said and headed back to the container.

  I looked at Kember, once again, to still see the weird expression upon her face. She looked back, as if to gaze out the back window but the seat was in her way, so she looked at me once again.

  “Okay, maybe I was a little harsh with that… what am I supposed to do, baby girl?”

  “Da da,” she replied and smiled.

  “Sometimes I don’t feel like a very good one, baby,” I said as I drove further.

  Once we were back on the interstate, we didn’t make much time as there were cars everywhere. The fastest we got to was thirty five miles an hour and that only lasted for a minute or two before having to slow and pull off the asphalt to go around an abandoned car and wrecked truck. Each time we passed a vehicle I could see the poor occupants that had perished within, what remained of them anyway, possibly starved to death waiting in their vehicle for help that had been told would come for them, but never showed. How would you starve to death in just a week’s time though? I always remembered from school that the human body could go at least forty days without food. It had only been seven.

  I began to think that without the luxury of a television set to watch or a radio to listen to, that the virus had gone airborne and those affected died quickly. Even if that were the case, then why hadn’t we died as well? We were no more different from any of them. No more immune to its deadly, colorless stench. We had been breathing the same air, so why had they died and we hadn’t? By no means was I complaining, I was just curious… okay, I wasn’t curious. I was scared shitless.

  Several miles later we reached a bridge and came to a stop. There was no way around the wreck that littered the bridge, as a cargo van on its side in pieces was blocking our advance.

  “Dammit, now what?”

  From where I was sitting I could see no possible or alternate way around and crossing the median into the oncoming lane wasn’t an option either, as the recent rain water had saturated both the North and South embankments. I would certainly get stuck if I tried.

  “Stay here and play with your baby dolls, honey. Daddy will be just outside, okay.” I grabbed the SBR that was resting upon the center console and got out. I chambered a round and was quick to scan the woods across from me, behind, and glanced toward the bridge itself. I was in a heightened state of alert, especially after the incident in the woods. I had lost the arrogance and wasn’t about to paint myself into a corner this time around. The Young Woman had also taken the time to show me how to properly handle and discharge the short weapon, which gave me confidence as I moved forward.

  I approached the wreck with the weapon buried in my shoulder. If anyone or anything popped out, I’d shoot first and ask questions later, which I prayed wouldn’t happen. Each step felt like I was walking on pens and needles. The pain registered with my brain, yet I kept moving, trying to ignore it all together. It could easily be the fear that was implanted within my mind that made me feel this ghostly pain, like an amputee with phantom pains in an appendage they no longer had. It was all mental and I had to keep that in mind.

  The gloves I wore, to keep my left hand from getting burned in the event I had to fire the SBR, made my hands sweat and reminded me how much I missed taking showers and staying clean. But without them a serious burn would take me out of the fight almost as fast as a bullet would. The shortened barrel heated up quickly, but what could I do? I had to be armed and ready to respond immediately, without hesitation. And the firepower of the SBR was far superior to any handgun or handguns I could wield, not to mention is unquestionable range.

  Around the other side of the wreck I saw that the bridge was clear and no one waited for me. I surveyed the situation and felt that if I could somehow push the wreck out of the way then I could go on about my business.

  “And how exactly am I going to move this shit out of the way?”

  The sound of the swiftly moving water rushing under the bridge blanketed the distance my hearing was good for, cutting down the time I would have to react if someone rushed me. I had to remain ever vigilant and take each second as though I knew I was being hunted. “Screw it! I’ll plow through this shit and keep going.”

  I turned to head back to the SUV when a distant sound erupted from nowhere. I looked in as many different directions as I could without getting dizzy; trying to locate the direction of the sound and hopefully see what was making it before it was too late. Seconds later I was certain that it was coming from the air.

  “Kilo two-five. Crazy horse one-six, over,” The pilot said into his mic.

  “Crazy horse one-six. Kilo two-five, go ahead.” A voice pierced through his headset.

  “We are moving down the last few miles of area six. We’ve spotted nothing and are bingo fuel, returning to base. Crazy horse one-six. Out.”

  “Roger that one-six, kilo two-five out.”

  The old Bell H-1Huey cut hard to the left crossing both lanes of traffic, directly above where Brandon was hiding. The massive rotors cut through the air with a loud thumping sound as it hea
ded back to the West. One of the Door Gunners swung the M-60 machine gun toward the SUV and scanned the wreck fifteen feet in front of it for any of the dead or living.

  “What do you say we put some rounds down there?” he said.

  The Pilot looked over his left shoulder at him. “You see something?”

  “Negative, just want to shoot some rounds.”

  “Make it fast, but you better tell them you saw something this time or it’s your ass.” The Pilot stabilized the chopper to allow the Gunner to shoot more accurately. “Ammo isn’t as available as it used to be, so control your shots.”

  “Roger that,” he announced and with that leaned into the mounted machine gun and opened fire.

  From where I was hiding I wasn’t able to hear the pop of each round as they were fired. It was only when they began slamming into the pavement near me and the dirt to my left that I realized they were shooting. Had they seen me? If so, why were they shooting at me? I was clearly not the dead and anyone with half ass vision could tell, even from only a hundred or so feet above me. The bullets rained down and I rolled even further under the wreck, hoping that none of them came all the way through and found any parts of my body. I was in no position to deal with a gunshot wound – I hadn’t been able to deal with a simple infection, so a gunshot wound, or several of them, would basically be the end of me.

  The rounds moved away from me and I began to worry that whoever was shooting was about to turn my wife’s SUV into Swiss cheese, where my daughter was. If there was ever a time when my anger had been so out of place, so full of rage and hatred, this time was it. And I leaned out from my cover, flipped the safety off and tried to get my micro red dot sight on the person shooting. If they wanted a gunfight, then I would give them one.

  About as quickly as the bullets had started, they stopped as the helicopter disappeared into the sun. I rolled out from under the wreck quickly, rose to a knee and took aim. The only sight picture I had was the rear of the chopper, where the engine was. My finger slid onto the trigger and I exhaled to steady my shot. The chopper was too far away and I lowered the weapon and made my way to the SUV, fully expecting to find it riddled with holes and my Daughter wounded… or worse. The vehicle was fine and so was she, but we had to get off the interstate or risk another encounter with the aircraft and possibly ground troops also. I was in no position to fight trained soldiers who were convinced I was one of the dead. It was time to bug out!

  Not a single round had hit the Pathfinder and I found her in the backseat playing with a can of green beans, of all things. I smiled at the sight, although that smile faded as I looked toward the barely visible chopper. I wanted those onboard taken care of and they were heading the same way I was. That part I didn’t like.

  The need to prove to myself I could kill someone if needed was controlling me, pushing me in all new directions to which I was ready to oblige, although still hesitant also.

  I started the SUV and went in the opposite direction. Whatever had been waiting for us up the interstate, just out of sight, would be postponed… briefly.

  I love u very much babe and I know times are hard right now, but we will get thru this and we will be stronger because of it. The words of my now dead wife shuffled into my head. I missed her dearly and wished that things had been different, as I could have used her help at this moment in time… hell, I could have used her every second of each of the seven days since all of this had started. Maybe things would have gone down better with her around. Maybe they wouldn’t. I don’t know and never would.

  More thoughts flooded in and I found myself thinking about the ridiculous decision I had made over a week ago to save me and Kember while letting my son suffer. I wondered if he was still alive. If he was, I wondered what he’d be doing at this moment. Was he scared and all alone or was he sorrowful and with others? What did he think had become of me and his little sister? I could go on and on with such questions and thoughts, but I had to put them out of my head and focus. Kember needed me to be sharp and ready for anything.

  We drove under the glare of the morning sun. Both of us focused on the task that was barreling towards us at forty miles an hour. We exited the interstate backwards, slowed to look for any other signs of life before moving onward. I stopped in the gas station parking lot and got out with the SBR visible and in both hands. My left hand held tight to the vertical grip, the butt stock was partly in my right shoulder, the weapon hung loosely in front of me yet still able to be maneuvered in a fraction of a second. If anyone was inside, alive or dead, they’d be a fool to try and stop me.

  I made a quick sweep of the interior, found no one and loaded up on drinks, snacks and several cartons of cigarettes. If the end of the world was upon us, as it looked to be, then I’d need the smokes to help keep me sane for as long as possible.

  Kember drank from her sippy cup as I finished a can of soda and looked in the distance to see where we were headed. Black plumes of smoke rose high into the cyan colored sky and I began to wonder if anything would remain. We cruised around a deep curve, straightened out and could see the faint settings of the small town grow in the windshield.

  Why are we doing this again? My mind asked. I subconsciously reached over and pulled the SBR into my lap. With its short design I could easily dismount the SUV and be ready to fire or already firing without any snags grabbing at a long barreled rifle. The Aimpoint Micro T-1 sight offered rapid acquisition of targets and I had learned to use the sight exceptionally well. I felt like the SBR was merely an extension of my arms, which was extremely deadly. I was more than prepared this time around and had the proper training – as long as I made no stupid mistakes – to assault if I had to or defend if that became the situation.

  I looked back at Kember, who was still playing with the can of beans. Where she had gotten it I had a clue, but why she had chosen that over her dolls was beyond me. There was no denying that she was my child, not that I would ever deny her. I guess that old saying about the apple not falling far from the tree explained us both in perfect detail.

  I slowed the SUV near the edge of town, wondering if anyone was still alive. If they were, where would everyone be? Had they all gotten together at the high school and barricaded themselves in or perhaps some other place almost as big. Once again a million questions were flooding my mind and I had to drop them in order to stay on the task at hand, as the town grew closer.

  Upon entering the city limits, I was appalled at the sights before me. Many of the businesses were either still on fire or had burnt to the ground and continued to smoldered. Bodies that were torn to pieces and rotting littered the street and I had to slow too ten miles an hour to avoid them. I could feel my heart sink once again and I tried to just watch the road instead of looking around at many of the places I knew, or the shredded bodies wondering if they were someone I knew well.

  There was no one out. No cars on the road, no survivors begging for help, chasing after me in some last ditch attempt as saving themselves. There were no dead either, which I had hoped there wouldn’t be. That was the only thing I hoped for the most.

  Further into town I slowed at a convenience store to see the windows broken out, a few boards over two of the windows and dried blood and bodies everywhere. One body was in the door blocking it from shutting, but still no signs of any life or moving dead. I pulled in and brought the SBR barrel up to the window, as it slid down. Several of the cooler lights were still on and only one flickered on and off. There were no cars in front or beside the store. I stopped the SUV and got out.

  I cautiously moved with the weapon dug into my shoulder, my right eye peered through the red dot sight while my left eye scanned for movement. I entered the store and quickly had to cover my nose from the horrid smell of death and decomposition. Thank God the SBR was light and I could handle it with one hand, so I advanced and quickly saw that most of the shelves had been cleaned out. What drinks remained in the cooler were shot up, apparently when those things came through the barricades
the people inside were armed. A shell casing was disturbed by my foot and rolled across the floor. I looked down to see that the floor was littered with them.

  Back in the SUV I pulled onto Main Street and headed deeper into town, fighting the urge to look at the street, which lead to my house. I didn’t want to go there, hadn’t planned on it although there was a part of me that needed too. I had to have closure with my wife and step-daughter, to know that they had perished and I hadn’t left them to die like a true coward would have.

  I veered down seventh street, wondering what I would find when I got there. Two houses on the right were on fire and looked as though they had recently been set. I eyed the street ahead and watched the rear view mirror for signs of those responsible. It wouldn’t be unheard of for strangers from the interstate to find their way to the small town for refuge or for reasons far more sinister. I’d have to keep my eyes and ears open even more.

  I stopped at the stop sign, looked to the left and could see my house. A glance in several different directions told me the coast was clear and I headed home and pulled into the driveway moments later. With all of my decisions before, I had left Kember alone in the vehicle, although I had brought her with me once and encountered one of the dead. Had it not been for the car door being shut and it having to open it to get at me, things may have been a lot different. I posed the single question as I sat there looking around.

  Do I bring her with me or leave her in the SUV?

  There, of course, were pro’s and con’s to either decision. I could move faster without her in my arms, could shoot better as well. Leaving her meant she would be unattended for some time and if one dead could open a car door, then many others could as well. Not to mention the living, which were anything but survivors.