H7N9: The Complete Series [Books 1-3]

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H7N9: The Complete Series [Books 1-3] Page 14

by Campbell, Mark


  Teddy’s throat was so swollen from thirst that he could barely speak. He just nodded in agreement.

  Turtle turned off the engine, grabbed his rifle, and stepped outside. He crouched down and quietly made his way towards the station.

  Teddy, dizzy and weak, swung his door open, and stumbled outside, nearly falling over. He left his weapon in the backseat and limped behind Turtle. He squinted as his vision blurred in the sunlight.

  “Howdy,” a voice said from the truck.

  Turtle and Teddy froze and turned towards the voice.

  A middle-aged white man with grey hair stepped from behind the other side of the truck. He was wearing dirty jeans and a sun-faded flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His skin was burnt and his eyes had large dark circles around them.

  Turtle and Teddy glanced at each other, unsure of what to say or do.

  The man looked both of them over and nodded.

  “Sorry for the fright, but I was worried for a moment,” the man said with a smile. “When I saw you two drive up, I thought you might actually be soldiers. I didn’t mean to hide and then pop out on you.”

  “We are soldiers,” Teddy quickly said.

  Turtle nodded in agreement.

  The man cackled and shook his head as he looked over at Turtle.

  “Come on now, there ain’t no pride in that profession these days,” he said. “The soldiers are more trigger happy than the damn marauders hanging out in downtown!” He paused and pulled up his pants. “My name’s Jim.”

  “I’m Teddy.”

  Turtle didn’t answer and just kept staring at the man.

  “Nice to meet a friendly face, Teddy,” Jim said. He stuck his thumb out at Turtle. “Who’s your shy friend?”

  “I’m none of yer damn business!” Turtle snapped.

  Jim held up his hands and chuckled.

  “Easy, fella,” he said with a jovial voice. “I’m just trying to make nice. No harm here. Truth be told, I don’t give two shits what your name is. There’s more than enough supplies in this gas station for all of us, no worries. Share and share alike I always say.” He looked back at Teddy. “Where are you two heading towards?”

  Neither Teddy nor Turtle answered.

  Jim grinned and shrugged.

  “Well, I guess that don’t matter much either, does it? I don’t blame you for being cautious… Hell, that’s why I’m making my scavenging rounds out here on the outskirts. All I can say is stay away from the city especially dressed like that.”

  “The stadium,” Teddy said.

  Turtle looked over at him and narrowed his eyes.

  “What about it?” Jim asked as he scratched his belly underneath his flannel shirt.

  “Where is it?” Teddy asked.

  Jim reached up and scratched his head.

  “Well fella, I know it’s somewhere not worth trying to get to,” Jim warned casually. “To get there you have to go smack dab through the middle of the city. You’ll need a lot more than a couple guns, a bad disguise, and an old Ford.” He stared at the car. “What year is that anyway? A 98? 99? I never cared much for the Taurus, but they’re reliable as hell.”

  Teddy ignored his question.

  “How do you get to the stadium?” Teddy asked.

  Jim chuckled and shook his head.

  “You must’ve fell for that nonsense the newsmen were spouting out over the radio, huh? Well… if you have some sort of death wish, keep heading towards the city, and turn left onto I-10. Stay on the interstate. You can’t miss it. Listen, how about we all–”

  Jim’s head snapped to the side as a bullet struck it. He fell to the ground and bled out on the pavement.

  “Jesus Christ!” Teddy shouted at Turtle.

  Turtle slowly lowered his smoking rifle and looked at Teddy.

  “What the fuck did you do that for?!” Teddy asked.

  “We got what we needed,” Turtle said. He spat on the ground and glared at him. “Besides, we need da truck. Dis car is runnin’ low on petrol.”

  Teddy held a hand out towards Jim’s corpse.

  “You didn’t have to kill him!” Teddy yelled. “The poor fucker wasn’t even armed!”

  Turtle stared at him and ginned, gold teeth sparkling.

  “Relax and chill, my brotha… He was nobody,” Turtle said.

  Teddy was about to speak, but froze. His eyes widened as he stared at the station’s doors.

  Turtle stared at him.

  “What now? What is yer problem?” Turtle asked with a raised eyebrow. He turned towards the station and looked.

  A skinny young boy no older than ten with tussled brown hair stood in the station’s doorway carrying a case of Pepsi. His blue eyes watered as soon as he saw Jim’s body on the ground.

  “Dad!” the boy shouted. He dropped the soda and started running towards his father.

  Turtle crouched down and pointed his rifle at the boy.

  Teddy’s eyes widened and his face flushed.

  “No! Don’t!” Teddy yelled.

  Turtle pulled the trigger.

  The boy cried out in pain as a burst of bullets struck him in the chest. His young body was flung backwards and he convulsed on the ground as blood foamed out of his mouth.

  Turtle watched as the boy stopped moving. He relaxed, lowered his weapon, and started walking towards the station.

  Teddy ran towards him, snatched him by his collar, and shook him.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you, you sick son of a bitch?!” Teddy shouted as he shook him. “It was just a kid!”

  Turtle waved back and forth like a ragdoll. His Rastafarian headwear fell to the ground and his dreads fell down past his shoulders. He reached up and shoved Teddy away.

  Teddy, already weak and dehydrated, stumbled back and caught himself on the edge of the truck so he wouldn’t fall over.

  “Keep yer goddamn hands off me!” Turtle shouted as he brandished his rifle at Teddy. “If ya touch me again like dat, I’ll shoot ya dead!” He squatted down, picked up his headwear, and hastily put it back on his head as he tucked his dreads back underneath it. “We ain’t running a daycare! It just us! Nobody else! No old men and no childrens! No complications! Ya feel me?”

  Teddy cupped a hand over his eyes and waited for his head to stop spinning.

  “You didn’t have to kill them…” Teddy said, voice raspy and raw.

  Turtle shook his head and slung his rifle back over his shoulder.

  “But I did and it too late for dem now,” Turtle replied. “Now let’s get what we need ‘fore more people show up.”

  Teddy tried taking a step forward, but stumbled forward and fell down on his hands and knees. The vertigo was too much and his legs were too weak to even walk straight.

  Turtle slung his rifle over his shoulder and walked towards Teddy, pants sagging. He reached down and helped Teddy get on his feet.

  Teddy leaned against Turtle and limped towards the station with his eyes shut. He felt disgusted, but he was too weak to argue and too drained to fight.

  “Ya not thinkin’ clear is all, brotha,” Turtle said as he helped him walk through the stations shattered sliding doors. “Get sum sugar and water in ya den ya feel betta, and know I’m right.”

  All of the shelves inside the store were ransacked and the aisles were cluttered with containers of junk food. Water leaked from the powerless refrigerated cases lined along the back of the store and most of the cases had already been picked clean.

  Turtle let Teddy go and scanned the store with his rifle.

  Teddy went down on his knees, and looked around with blurry eyes.

  Satisfied that they were alone, Turtle slung his weapon back over his shoulder and crouched down next to Teddy.

  “I’m gonna get us a few things, ok brotha?”

  Teddy simply nodded and massaged his aching throat.

  Turtle reached down, picked up a couple of chocolate bars, and shoved them against Teddy’s chest.

  Teddy grunted and held on
to them, swaying side-to-side.

  “Eat up,” Turtle said. “Quick now, ya? I need ya to have energy to help watch ma back if da shit goes down - otherwise what good are ya?”

  Teddy didn’t even pay attention to his words. He started ripping open the candy bars and shoving them into his mouth, wolfing down entire bars in two or three greedy bites. The more he ate, the more his stomach ached with hunger as it begged for more and more.

  Turtle got back up and laughed. He slapped Teddy on the back as he ate.

  Teddy didn’t look up; he continued to pick random bars of candy off of the floor and devour them.

  Turtle looked around the store and stared at the clerk’s desk and the cigarettes display case located right behind it. He beamed with delight, ran towards it, and slid over the counter. He reached up and grabbed a pack of menthol Newports.

  “Lucky day, brotha! Lucky day!” Turtle shouted ecstatically as he opened the pack and slid a cigarette in his mouth. He searched the counter and grabbed one of the plastic lighters out of a 99 cent bin and quickly lit up.

  He took a long drag and looked down with dismay when he noticed that the cash register had already been smashed open and its contents taken.

  Turtle took another puff and turned his attention towards the lottery scratch-off ticket case next to the register. He started excitedly ripping whole packs of tickets out of the case, laughing.

  Teddy, mouth smeared with chocolate, let out a loud belch and forced himself to stand up. He felt sick, but he felt full and that was one sensation he had been missing for quite some time.

  However, his head still pounded and his throat still hurt from thirst.

  At end of one of the aisles he spotted a shelf of bottled water that toppled out of one of the refrigerated cases.

  He glanced over at Turtle and frowned.

  Turtle was hunched over the counter frantically scratching lottery tickets with a cigarette bobbing up and down between his lips.

  Teddy knew that the man was a loose cannon. He’d have to either part ways with him, or deal with him permanently once they got closer to the stadium.

  Frankly he was tired of fighting and killing, but he really didn’t see any other way.

  As he watched Turtle scratch one ticket after another, he couldn’t help but wonder if killing him would be doing society a favor; the man was a rabid dog and rabid dogs needed to be put down.

  I’ll deal with it later, he told himself.

  Teddy look away and slowly made his way down the aisle to grab a water. He picked up a bottle, twisted off the cap, and chugged it down in only a few seconds.

  He reached for another–

  “Ya ready, brotha?” Turtle asked from the end of the aisle; he was already lighting another cigarette.

  Teddy turned and looked at him with confusion.

  “Ready?” Teddy asked. “We just got here… We didn’t even grab supplies.”

  Turtle shook his head and blew smoke towards the ceiling.

  “Already got what we need,” Turtle said as he held up a plastic sack full of cigarettes. He pointed towards the looted cash register. “Someone done got da cash. Ain’t nothin’ else to be had.”

  Teddy furrowed his brow in frustration.

  “What about food and water?” Teddy asked. He motioned towards the bottles that were scattered all over the floor. “We’re just going to leave all of this here?”

  Turtle shrugged and threw his thumb out towards the pick-up.

  “Dem boys already got da truck loaded,” Turtle said. “We’ll make do with what dey got, ya? We need mo bullets, not mo bread.”

  Anger washed over Teddy’s face.

  “No offense, but that’s a pretty stupid fucking idea!” Teddy shouted as he started walking towards Turtle.

  Turtle rested a hand on the butt of the pistol tucked under his waistband and grinned as the cigarette dangled between his lips.

  “Easy, brotha,” Turtle said quietly. “See… Dis whole plan here is my plan. It’s cuz of me dat we’re outta dat prison.” He paused and narrowed his eyes as he took a long drag from his Newport. “Ya best fall in line and know yer place or I’ll leave ya behind, ya hear?”

  Teddy stopped walking and stared at him. He knew he’d have to deal with him, but not yet. Having another set of eyes and another trigger finger was useful, especially since he had no idea what they were walking into.

  He paused and tried to think of what to say.

  Finally, Teddy sighed and put his hands in the air.

  “I’m just trying to help, Turtle. I meant no offense.”

  Turtle seemed satisfied by the act of submission. He spat his cigarette butt on the floor and stepped aside to let Teddy pass.

  “I know, brotha, but let me handle da street, ya? Just work on coverin mah back and we be cool,” Turtle said.

  Teddy nodded and kept walking.

  As Teddy walked past him, Turtle patted him on the back, laughing.

  “Look at dis shit!” Turtle said. He walked next to Teddy and handed him a scratched off lottery ticket. “I won five hundred dollas, can ya believe it? Outta dat whole damn roll of thirty dolla tickets they only gave me crumbs.”

  Teddy glanced down at it.

  “I doubt there’s anywhere to cash it,” Teddy said.

  As they stepped outside, Teddy made a conscious point not to look down at the young boy’s corpse. It made him sick to think about spending any more time than necessary with Turtle. However, it would make it easier in his mind to do what needed to be done when the time came.

  Turtle, oblivious, laughed and threw the ticket over his shoulder.

  “Cash it? It’s insultin’! Da lottery is all a big scam!” He paused and stared up at the sky with a mischievous grin on his face. “Besides, I’m sure dere is a bank out dere somewhere jus waitin for us.”

  Teddy was taken aback by the small-mindedness of his temporary travel companion, but before he could argue against taking such a needless risk, he heard a helicopter approach.

  “Duck!” Teddy said. He reached over and pulled Turtle down behind the back of the pick-up truck.

  Turtle got his rifle ready, crouched behind the truck, and peered up at the sky.

  Two black helicopters passed overhead and kicked up a plume of dust as they breezed by towards the direction of the prison.

  Teddy and Turtle stayed in the shadows and stared up at the sky, watching.

  After a few minutes, both helicopters had disappeared into the horizon.

  Once they were gone, Teddy and Turtle stood back up

  “Where da fuck dey goin so fast?” Turtle asked as he adjusted his headgear.

  “Where do you think?” Teddy replied with annoyance. “It’s a good thing we left that place. Let’s get out of here before they decide to circle back."

  CHAPTER 14

  The interior of the pick-up smelled like cigarette smoke and sour milk. Carpet covered the dashboard and a silver crucifix dangled from the rearview mirror.

  Turtle had his seat leaned as far back as it could go while he kept one hand on the wheel and one hanging out of the window. The cigarette between his lips dropped ashes all over the front of his uniform.

  Teddy sat with the air conditioning vents turned towards him and stared out of the window with tired eyes.

  Small strip malls, desolate subdivisions, and apartment complexes started to line the street as they entered the outskirts of Tucson’s metropolitan area. Wild hogs roamed the side-streets and feasted on the mounds of uncollected trash that had accumulated on the curb and spilled out from overflowing dumpsters. Bodies covered in sheets were piled next to soiled mattresses and torn sacks of garbage.

  It depressed him, but he really hadn’t expected much else.

  The two-lane road they were traveling on expanded into a deserted six-lane highway with a concrete divider running down the center. A few cars had been left abandoned on the side of the highway, but Teddy didn’t spot another driver.

  Off to the side
Teddy saw what used to be a construction site. A sign read ‘Coming Soon: Harris Teeter’. Instead of a store, a massive pit took up the entire parcel of land. The pit was filled with decaying bodies, some wrapped, some not; Teddy had never seen so many bodies in one place. Dump trucks, some still loaded with bodies, and yellow backhoes surrounded the mass grave and the entire area was cordoned off with police tape, FEMA barricades, and biohazard placards. A cloud of black birds circled over the pit, cawing loudly.

  Teddy couldn’t help but wonder if the place was abandoned because it was full or if it they had simply run out of living people able to bury the insurmountable number of dead.

  They neared the city center and the stench of rot started to overpower the lingering stench of Turtle’s cigarette smoke.

  Teddy leaned forward and peered out, through the windshield.

  The whole city looked like a ghost town.

  A smoky haze lingered in the air in-between the skyscrapers, probably from fires burning somewhere - with no firefighters to control them, Teddy figured. A hot desert wind whistled between the buildings and kicked up loose paper from the miniature mountains of garbage that took up the city streets. Many of the buildings had their windows shattered and hand-sprawled messages begging for help like ‘SOS – Alive inside’ and ‘NEED INSULIN APT 415B’ were painted on sheets and draped from some of the building’s balconies. Some of the messages spray-painted on the shuttered storefronts were more threatening: ‘U LOOT, I SHOOT’.

  Teddy frowned and sat back with a sour expression on his face.

  Turtle glanced over at him and smiled, dropping more ashes on his chest.

  “Ya look like a man who jus’ got a death sentence,” Turtle said. “Cheer up, my brotha. It could be worse!”

  Teddy shook his head.

  “It just doesn’t look like what I expected.”

  Turtle looked confused.

  “Brotha… What did ya expect?”

  Teddy knew that it was a good question, but he didn’t have a good answer.

  “I’m going to see if we can pick up a signal,” Teddy finally said as he reached for the radio. “We should be close enough.”

  Turtle didn’t seem concerned. He flicked his cigarette butt out the window and lit another.

 

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