The Longest Road (Book 1)

by Thompson, A. S.

  “If you found something like that, it should be enough to cut through,” Billy responded.

  “Oh, shit, I forgot to tell you guys, but I found some gas. Well, at least some we can siphon. The other cars over here are either busted or out, but this Humvee here has got some left in it,” Alex said, tapping on the side of the forest-colored military vehicle.

  Collin smiled at the group’s performance. “Nicely done, guys. Looks like things just might be looking up for us at the moment. Okay, Mike, keep bringing back whatever you can. I want our cupboards filled, and then I want you to start siphoning the gas. Steve, I want you and Alex to head to the armory and try to get inside. Bill, I need your help with something. There’s a computer station in HQ and I want to see if you can get it working. Maybe we can get some answers about, well, anything. The power is out, so I think we’ll probably need the generator.”

  ###

  Billy got up from underneath the terminal and faced Collin. “Even after the world ends, I still can’t get away from being an electrician,” he said, wiping dirt and dust from his hands.

  “Well, good for us we have one. What’s up? Can you get any of these to work?” Collin asked, pointing to the three thirty-inch screens.

  “Honestly, your guess is as good as mine here. There’s a rat’s nest of wires and cables going to I don’t even know where. If I worked on it nonstop, I could probably have something rigged up in a day, maybe two.”

  Collin leaned back against the counter. “Shit. Well, what about this guy’s computer?” he asked, pointing toward the lone room with the military memorabilia.

  Billy walked over to the desk marked “Seaton” and knelt to inspect the CPU. “This one is more like it. Just wheel over the generator. I should be able to have it on in no time.”

  In less than a minute, Billy had the cables prepped. “That should do it,” he said, powering on the generator.

  The computer screen lit up, but Collin slammed his fist down hard. “Damn. A password.”

  ###

  Standing in front of the armory, Alex suddenly had an idea. Hopping up on the counter, he attempted to fit himself through the 1x2-foot transaction hole. He managed to squeeze both of his legs through, but the more he forced, the tighter it got. He wiggled like a worm until he could go no more. Even with his slender frame and sucked-in stomach, Alex couldn’t squeeze through. He had made it to his hips when he stopped moving and turned back to Steve. “I think I’m stuck.”

  Steve laughed. “This is priceless,” he said, pantomiming his hands like a photographer. “You look like a magic trick gone way wrong.”

  Alex didn’t appreciate the lighthearted ridicule. “Stop laughing and help get me the fuck out of here!”

  “I wish I had a real camera,” Steve said, walking over. He grabbed Alex’s arms and pulled him out.

  “Okay, plan B,” Alex said, freeing his last leg.

  They used a pair of wire cutters Alex had found in the garage to start clipping the fence. The metal wasn’t incredibly tough, but Billy had been right that it wasn’t cheap. It took them more than a few minutes to make an opening wide enough.

  Steve readied his weapon and hopped through first. Once he was on the other side, he stood himself up and helped Alex through. “Don’t get stuck now,” he joked.

  “Fuck off,” Alex sneered playfully.

  The room was simple, containing a computer, a chair, and cubbies overfilled with papers. Steve waved for Alex to follow him to the armory door. It was a plain wooden door, with no keycard reader or lock.

  “I guess, once you’re in, you’re in,” Steve whispered. He turned the knob and entered flashlight-first. The movement of the door stirred up thousands of dust particles, which sparkled in Steve’s light. He stopped and stared at the room. “Wow,” he whispered.

  “Move over, I want to see,” Alex said, forcing his way past Steve. His eyes lit up like it was Christmas. The room was the size of a small restaurant, and all around them, the walls and countertops housed a variety of weapons. Some had already been taken, but there was plenty to go around.

  “Pinch me, Steve,” Alex said dreamily. “I think I died and went to heaven.”

  Instead, Steve hit him in the arm, and Alex chased Steve around the room like they were kids. They couldn’t have hoped for a better score. At most, they had thought there would be a few rounds of ammo and maybe a rifle or two.

  “I feel like a kid in a candy store!” Alex exclaimed, going from shelf to shelf, checking out all the weapons.

  “All right, calm down for a second, Alex. I’m going to call this in,” Steve said, pinching the transmit button on his radio. “Guys, I have some good news and some bad news. Good news is we got into the armory.”

  “And…” Collin responded.

  “Bad news is, I nearly jizzed my pants. There’s all sorts of goodies. I’ll make a list and get back to you.”

  “Great job, Steve! Let us know,” Collin called back, laughing.

  “Nice, guys. Find me some kick-ass new toys,” Billy chimed in.

  “For sure. Steve-out” he said. On a desk near the large steel door, Steve picked up a clipboard and turned to Alex. “How are we going to carry all this?”

  ###

  “Try this guy’s name,” Billy suggested, pointing to the placard reading Seaton.

  -Incorrect Password-

  “How about America?”

  “Really, Bill?” Collin asked, shaking his head at the simplicity. He tried it anyway.

  -Incorrect Password-

  Five minutes passed as they thought and tried various patriotic and military words, but still no access. Out of frustration, Collin tore open the drawers, looking for a clue. There’s got to be a hint around here somewhere, he thought. Irritated, he got up and searched the room.

  “Check the cabinet,” Billy recommended between key strokes.

  Having nothing to lose, Collin inspected the redwood cabinet level by level. “This guy is decorated more than a damn Christmas tree,” he said, finishing the top shelf. All of a sudden, Collin did a double take. “What do we have here?” Resting between the honors and awards, one plaque stood out among the rest.

  To the greatest soldier, dad, husband.

  You are truly the greatest man I know. With all my love, always and forever.

  Susan

  Collin walked back over to the desk and typed in the unknown woman’s name. The screen blinked, granting access, and Billy and Collin cheered in celebration. Collin immediately tried forinternet access, but an error message popped up:No internet available. He had already guessed there wouldn’t be any, but had figured it was worth a shot. Billy stood idly behind Collin, looking over his shoulder.

  “Just a bunch of crap. There’s nothing important,” Collin said dismally.

  “Why don’t you try the mail shortcut?” Billy suggested.

  “Didn’t you see the screen? There’s no internet access, man.”

  “No, I know that, but there’s still got to be messages in there from before.”

  Billy’s argument made sense, so Collin clicked on the mail application and searched.

  “Nothing in the saved box,” Collin said. “Let’s try the inbox.”

  “Look at the dates on those two emails,” Billy said, touching the screen. “Right after the initial outbreaks.”

  Collin read the first email.

  Mark,

  It’s bad. This thing, this infection, whatever it is, is unlike anything I’ve ever seen or could imagine. It’s sadistic and terrifying, almost as though it has a mind of its own, or at the very least one goal: total destruction. The way it takes over a body suggests virus, but it displays parasitic qualities, too. Either way, we can’t say for sure. There’s so much that we don’t know about it, but I wanted to share some very interesting and shocking findings with you.

  First: Infected characteristics.

  All subjects display the exact same characteristics. Most notable is their rage. They have hunger
, almost at a primitive or animalistic level. They appear to have no reasoning abilities, and they feel no pain. They can see, but don’t rely heavily on vision. Their pupils remain dilated day and night, which is why, we believe, they prefer the dark. We think their sense of smell and hearing is increased or alerted in some way, probably for hunting purposes. Unfortunately, we do not know why they need uncontaminated blood or why they don’t attack other infected.

  Secondly: Transmission of infection.

  Any bite, scratch, or contact with infected blood is 100% lethal. This contact MUST be through open wound, mouth, eyes, or other exposed orifice. After such an exposure, the individual has a limited amount of time until inevitable change. Blood to skin is safe, but not recommended.

  Third: Transformation

  Time to complete transformation varies depending on severity of exposure. If an individual suffers a bite or other non-lethal contact, it can take up to 48 hours to fully change, which we believe is how it spread so fast and far. On the other hand, if a person sustains a mortal wound by an infected or is near death when coming into contact with it, they will transform in a matter of minutes.

  There is no cure at this time.

  At this stage of testing, these are all theories or our best guesses. I truly hope we can take care of this before it’s too late, if it isn’t already.

  Best of luck,

  DP

  The next email was short and dated a few days later.

  Heard you’re being called in. DON’T!

  Suicide mission! DO NOT come! Suits are pulling back to cover their own asses. Infection has become uncontainable.

  I’ll be okay, taking last flight out. I’ll come as soon as I can.

  God help us all,

  DP

  Billy pulled back for a second and paced around the room. “Well, that’s comforting,” he said.

  “Tell me about it. All right, the rest of these are bogus. Let me check one more thing,” Collin said, clicking on the SENT box.

  On the top of the list was a message with the subject “URGENT.” Collin read the letter out loud to Billy.

  Robert,

  I don’t have much time, so I’ll explain everything later. The reports are true, and this infection is spreading fast. I’m currently outside Salt Lake City, and all the tests we are doing here are drawing the same conclusions. The government is failing, and no one knows what to do. I have orders to report to DC, but I spoke with a friend on the East Coast, who told me that things are bad there and only getting worse. I have decided I cannot follow these orders.

  I want you to grab your sister and whoever else you can without making a scene and meet me at 450 Hollow Road, Uster, CA. It’s between Eureka and San Francisco, on the coast. It’s a safe location where I believe we can ride out this storm. And make no mistake, it’s coming. I believe we have yet to see the worst.

  I’d suggest getting a map and looking up the location ASAP; who knows how much longer the internet and GPS will be up for. Good luck, son. I will see you soon.

  - Col. Seaton

  “Look at the date,” Collin said, pointing to the screen. “It was sent four months ago. What do you think?”

  “Well, this Colonel Seaton guy was pretty much saying ‘fuck you’ to the government, so I’d say he’s at least reasonable,” Billy replied.

  “I mean, it says right there that it’s safe,” Collin said, tapping the screen. “And it’s in California.”

  Billy shrugged, giving a silent consent.

  Collin wrote down the address and Billy disconnected the power. They wheeled the generator back to the RV and gathered the guys around. Collin explained the situation and let the information soak in.

  Alex spoke first. “It’s where we were going anyway, right? I say we check it out.”

  “All in favor,” Collin asked. He counted five hands, including his. “Uster, California, here we come.”

  With no objections, the decision was solidified. They would head to the location and see what they could find. Maybe there would be some sort of a safe haven there, or maybe it would be deserted or even worse, infected. But they had to try. They had to keep moving forward.

  1830 hours

  The sun sank over the western Utah Mountains, taking the temperature down to a chilling thirty-three degrees.

  Steve and Alex finished enclosing the gates around the parking garage. Since they had left their noisemakers back in Danton, they settled with the simple enclosure; it was better than being completely exposed.

  “All right, first one back to Sweetie gets home-field advantage inMadden,” Alex said, lining up for a race.

  “Fine with me,” Steve replied, taking a runner’s stance next to his cousin. “But no cheat—”

  Before Steve could finish his sentence, Alex called out “GO!” and took a commanding lead. Steve tried his best to catch up, but the distance was too short. Alex touched the side door first and spun around to gloat.

  “Damn, I’m fast. Looks like we’ll be playing in Lambeau Field!”

  “You’re a cheatin’ bastard. You know that, right? And no, I’m not jealous. I kind of feel bad for you. My Steelers are going to come in there and march all over your Packers,” Steve said, opening up the side door to the RV.

  Sweet Tooth was overloaded inside and out with food and equipment. There was barely enough space for the cousins to sit for dinner.

  Collin finished one of the MREs and set it aside. “Okay, guys, what’s the gun and ammo situation?”

  Unable to hold back his excitement, Alex responded first. “Okay, well, good news and bad news. Good news is that, for whatever reason, the soldiers who left here left a shitload of guns and ammo, as I’m sure you can see. Let’s start with the guns. There’s a bunch of M4’s and M16’s. We also grabbed a bunch of grenades, a couple MP5’s, some pussy 9mm handguns, and some semi-auto shotguns. And that’s not even all the goodies. There are batteries and night-vision goggles and other stuff like that!”

  “Fuck me. It’s like Christmas,” Billy said.

  “I love the military,” replied Collin. “But wait, what’s the bad news?”

  “Oh yeah, it’s really for Steve, and he knows. No .40 ammo.”

  “Yeah, I know, whatever. It’s cool though. I’m going check the side hatches of the RV. I could have sworn I had at least a couple boxes more.” In between bites of canned tuna, Steve took out the clipboard and detailed the rest of the goods. He knew Collin was looking for specifics. “We got five M16’s and three M4’s. We also grabbed the two remaining MP5’s, three 9mm’s and two of the semi-auto shotguns—”

  “And we got crates of ammo and magazines to take on all the infected on the planet,” Alex interrupted, smiling and curling his finger like a trigger.

  Steve laughed. “Yeah, we do. And we also got ten boxes of rifle ammo, two pallets of grenades holding eight each, and a crate of flares. Oh and there’s also some new fatigues and equipment belts and bags, along with a few LED lanterns, two night-vision goggles, and a crap load of different kinds of batteries. And guess what, Billy? We grabbed you an RPG, and there was a refill for it, too,” Steve finished, handing the rocket-propelled grenade to him like a Christmas present.

  Billy cuddled the RPG like a baby. “I could cry right now,” he whispered jokingly.

  Collin leaned back and stretched his arms over his head. “Nice job, guys. Looks like we’re sitting pretty good for the moment. And we’re all topped off. Right, Mike?”

  “Yup, and I snagged a couple gas cans from the back of the Humvee and filled those up, too,” Mike responded, tearing into a Snicker’s bar.

  “Awesome. All right, boys, I don’t know about you, but tap-tap on one of those MP5’s!” Collin yelled, reaching for it before the others could.

  For the next hour, the group sorted through their cache of weapons and ammo. Billy took one of the shotguns and one of the M4’s; he preferred to tear the infected down. Mike was content with one of the M16’s and a pair of 9mm’s.
Secretly, he stuffed a grenade and one of the flare guns in his jacket pocket. Alex went for the other MP5 and stuck with his rifle. In his mind, this meant that he could stay long range, but get up close and personal if he needed. Steve didn’t care for the new equipment much. He stuck with his custom rifle and managed to find two boxes of .40 ammo behind a portable propane tank.

  1940 hours

  The portable iPod player blasted tunes into the night as the cousins loaded up their choice weapons, along with back-up magazines. They also prepped the remaining weapons and stacked them against the kitchen wall. Three crates of leftover ammo and grenades were placed under the kitchen table. The rest of the equipment was placed in a large box and left behind the driver’s seat.

  “I think this calls for a little celebration,” Alex said, bringing over a bottle of aged, fourteen-year-old Lagavulin whiskey. The group smiled in anticipation as he poured five glasses. “To Fort Kennedy.” The cousins cheered, then sat back and relaxed. It had been a long day.

  Steve finished cleaning his Sig. He slapped in a new magazine, chambered a round, and holstered it. Out of nowhere, he looked up and said, “I miss meeting new people and just talking. You know, having an intelligent conversation with someone at school.”

  “Really, Steve? School? Come on, man, that’s pretty gay,” Alex replied, swirling and smelling the scotch. “I miss all the sporting events I used to go to. Baseball games, MMA fights, football… what I’d give to have Sunday football again.”

  “I miss women,” Billy said. “Working at my gym in NYC, there were so many fine ladies. Oh, and going out to the bars. Damn, I miss those days.”

  “I’ll second that,” Mike said, raising his glass to Billy’s comment. He then began to think about what he missed, what he truly missed. He unconsciously grabbed his cross and started to say something.