Saga of the Scout

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Saga of the Scout Page 9

by Cliff Hamrick


  Ethan continued to look at the gas station as he thought. “I don’t know. My dad changed, too. So did a bunch of other people in the visitor center. There was no reason for them to start doing what they did. None of it makes sense.”

  Madison continued, “Maybe it is a disease. You know, like those zombie movies where people get sick and start to kill people? I’m a big fan of zombie movies. Well, not anymore.”

  Ethan didn’t want to be rude, but he started to find her questions annoying. “Some people on TV thought it might be a disease, too. But people are usually sick for a little while. So far, the only sick person I’ve seen is Mrs. Martinez, and her breathing problems started before all of this.”

  Madison turned on the radio. Immediately, Tejano music blasted out of the speakers causing both of them to jump. She quickly turned the volume down, and both of them looked around to see if the sudden music attracted anyone’s attention.

  Seeing that the gas station and nearby interstate were silent and still, they relaxed and listened as she changed the stations. Ethan thought that the radio was similar to the television he watched the other day. Either things appeared to be perfectly normal, or there was dead air.

  A radio station that they knew should be playing music would be off the air, but then another one would be playing music and even commercials just like any other day. But no one spoke about the events that were unfolding around the world.

  She turned off the radio and said, “That’s weird. Why isn’t anyone talking about what’s going on? Why isn’t there news or even some kind of government broadcast?”

  Ethan just shrugged and looked out the window to watch the store. He was tired. Tired of trying to figure out what was happening. He was tired of walking. He was tired of eating food scrounged from strangers’ pantries. He was tired of worrying about his mother.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes longer. In the new world, the silence was deeper than what they were used to. They heard no sounds of traffic, of cars rushing at highway speeds, no airplanes flying over, no children crying, no radios blasting music. In this place, the only sound was the repetitive clink of an American flag against the flag pole.

  “He’s coming,” Ethan said, breaking the silence.

  Andrew emerged from the gas station carrying plastic bags laden with goods from the store. He set the bags inside and climbed into the minivan.

  “I got a bunch of stuff. I got food if you want to call it that, water, didn’t find a map, but I did grab us some of these.” Andrew pulled out a six-pack of expensive Mexican beer.

  “Of course, you got beer,” Ethan said.

  “Oh, don’t worry, my underage friend, I got you something, too.” Andrew pulled out a package of bright pink, plastic flip flops. “I hope you like the color.”

  “There was no one inside?” Madison asked.

  “Nah, it was weird. I didn’t see anyone. I mean, there weren’t even any bodies. Shit was knocked down all over the place like people were fighting. But if anyone was killed, then they took the bodies.”

  “Or they captured them and took them away someplace,” Madison said.

  “Yeah, what was it your sister said? Something about someone you should meet, or something like that?”

  Ethan tried to remember. “Yeah, something like that.”

  Madison said, “Maybe that’s who they are taking the captives to.”

  “Well, whatever. The place is empty, so we can load up more stuff if you want.” Andrew said.

  Ethan and Madison nodded in agreement, and she drove the minivan around to park closer to the front entrance.

  Andrew said, “You two go inside and get more stuff. I’ll try and siphon gas out of these cars. I doubt either of you upstanding citizens have ever siphoned gas before.”

  After several trips through the gas station, the trio was well-packed. They loaded the minivan with bags of snacks of all kinds and bottles of water and sports drinks.

  Madison grabbed a case of cheap beer. Ethan picked up flashlights, batteries, and the handful of first aid supplies in the store. They did not find a gun or ammunition. From the gas of all of the cars in the parking lot, Andrew was able to fill the gas tank of the minivan.

  Once they were loaded up, Madison climbed back into the driver’s seat, sighed, and looked around. “OK, now what? Go to San Marcos? It's just a little north of here, and we have plenty of gas to get there.”

  “Could we drive to Austin?” Ethan asked.

  Madison glanced at him. “Yeah, probably. I mean, if this was before, then we could drive on 35 and be there in about a half an hour. But with this…” she waved her hand towards the wrecked cars on the interstate, “I don’t know how long it will take us. We can’t get on the highway, and who knows what the service roads are like.”

  “Let’s just go to San Marcos and worry about Austin later,” Andrew added. “We pretty much have to go through there to get to Austin anyway.”

  Ethan thought about it and agreed. Madison drove out of the parking lot and up the access road next to the line of wrecked and burned-out cars.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The drive north was smoother than expected. Though the highway was a long continuous line of destruction, there was little blocking their way along the access road.

  On the highway, cars laid rolled over on the grassy median or crushed under the weight of large semi-trucks. Some vehicles were blackened shells still smoldering from fires that burned out days ago.

  Other vehicles appeared to be pulled over to the side of the road and abandoned as if waiting for a tow truck to come and save them. Occasionally, the access road would rise, and Ethan could see the railroad tracks just off the other side of the highway.

  They saw no survivors, no raiders, and no people who had joined them.

  The smell of the highway became too strong. The putrid smell of rotting flesh mixed with the caustic chemical smell of the burned fuel and plastic until Madison complained of a headache. The travelers decided to roll up the windows and use the air conditioning rather than put up with the smell any longer.

  The other side of the access road, however, was quite pleasant. Away from the interstate, there were few buildings and mainly gentle rolling hills of open fields dotted by juniper bushes. Cows stood in the fields and chewed on grass while watching them drive by. Ethan was struck by the normalcy to his right and the chaos to his left.

  “Looks like we have trouble,” Madison said.

  On the road ahead were more cars. The access road replicated the chaos of the highway. Madison stopped the minivan so they could look around.

  Beyond the line of wrecked and parked cars in the access road or stuck in the grass off the side of the road was a large outdoor shopping center. Even from this distance, they could see a parking lot full of cars.

  “Those are the outlet malls. We are getting close to San Marcos,” she said.

  “And more people,” Andrew added.

  Ethan leaned forward and peered ahead, wishing he still had his binoculars. “I think we can get closer, but we’re not going to be able to drive much farther.”

  “So, now what?” Andrew asked.

  Madison leaned forward and peered over the steering wheel. “I don’t see any people, do you? I guess we can drive as far as we can and then walk.”

  “You ain’t gonna walk too far in those flip flops.”

  “There’s a lot of stores there. I’m sure we can find Ethan some shoes. We can probably find a bunch of stuff we need.”

  Though they collected plenty of food and water from the gas station, they had little else. The minivan had nothing of value. No tent, no sleeping bag, no knives, not even a blanket to help with the cold night, which was sure to come.

  Only some household supplies that suggested that Elena Martinez cleaned homes before she was murdered. Andrew grabbed some cigarette lighters when he stole a few cartons of cigarettes, though Ethan wasn’t sure if he wanted to light a fire and alert the countryside whe
re they were.

  “Yeah, Madison is right. We need more than just water and potato chips to get us going. Let’s just take what we need and walk the rest of the way.”

  The group sorted through the items from the gas station and divided them up. The water was the worst. Ethan noticed that a two-liter bottle of water felt heavier now that he didn’t have a backpack to carry it properly. The large bottle of water hung down low in the flimsy plastic bag and banged against his leg as he shuffled along in the ill-fitting flip flops. Madison and Andrew walked slower so he could keep up.

  The trio crept through the line of wrecked cars, fearful someone might see them out in the open. Madison in her fire station T-shirt carrying a bag full of packages of chocolate donuts in one hand and her aluminum baseball bat in the other.

  Andrew carried a bag in each hand, water, candy, beer, and cigarettes filled his bags. The handcuffs rattled against his left wrist with each step. Ethan carried a bag in each hand as well, with his empty revolver stuck in his belt. Besides the water and some food, Ethan carried Band-Aids. He remembered how valuable they could be on hiking trips when blisters formed.

  As they moved through the cars, they saw up close the destruction that had come a few days ago. Some vehicles were burned-out, and they avoided those. Others looked like someone parked the car, left the keys in the ignition, and walked away. Inside the various vehicles were remnants of people’s lives and deaths. Children’s toys rested on floorboards, cell phones plugged into chargers, blood smeared on windshields,

  There were no survivors, but there were plenty of bodies, purple and bloated after days of lying out in the Texas sun. Flies crawled over the dead skin, searching for gaping wounds in which to lay their eggs.

  Vultures walked away from their bounty as the trio passed by but immediately returned to feast on the bloated corpses.

  The smell was overwhelming. The sickly-sweet smell of rotten flesh mingled with the putrid contents of bowels ripped open by vultures. Added to the smell was the waft of burned gasoline and plastic.

  At times, the trio thought they would vomit except that had not taken the time to eat anything. They lifted their T-shirts over their mouths and noses to try and block out the smell and not accidentally inhale one of the thousands of black flies buzzing around them.

  Madison stopped and sobbed. Tears streamed down to her face and onto her T-shirt. She didn’t say anything, she dropped the bag in her hand and bent over, her hand covering her face.

  Ethan and Andrew stopped and looked at her. There was nothing to say. They walked through a small piece of Hell, just a tiny example of the horrors that have played out around the world. They were overwhelmed by it all as well. There was no comfort they could give her because there was none to give themselves.

  Madison hated herself as she cried, but the grief was relentless and would not be denied. She squatted down between two cars and held her face in her hands as she cried for her captured friends, Tully who died trying to protect her from a murderer, the Martinez children who died screaming as their skulls were smashed before she could do anything, the young woman in the car next to her who died without ever knowing why.

  Ethan just watched as she cried. He felt he should do something for her, but he did not know what. He remembered a time when he was very little, and his mother sobbed like that after an ugly fight with his father. She laid on her bed and sobbed like that, her body shaking with hurt and sadness.

  He sat on the edge of her bed and tried to say things that would cheer her up. But he was too young to help her. And now the world was too much for Ethan to help Madison.

  Madison eventually felt it all release from her. She used the edge of her T-shirt to wipe off her face, gathered up the bag and baseball bat, and stood up. She looked at Ethan and Andrew, her eyes red but resolved.

  “Sorry. I’m fine now.”

  Andrew said, “Good, because I was about to start crying, too. There’s a shoe store over there. Let’s see if some shopping can make us feel better.”

  Madison only smiled weakly as an acknowledgment of the joke, but she wasn’t in the mood to laugh quite yet. They were relieved to find that much of the carnage of the road had not spread to the parking lot. There were the occasional body and vulture. But most the cars were simply left where they were parked. The air was less oppressive here.

  Their mood was lightened somewhat, which caused them to let down their guard. They did not notice the hunched figure moving between the cars in the parking lot.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Madison gasped loudly as she was pulled back, and a strong hand clutched her throat. Before she could fight back, she felt the barrel of a gun pressed against her temple.

  “Drop the bat, slut,” a hoarse voice spoke from behind her. She could smell the stench of a lifetime of cigarettes on his breath.

  Ethan and Andrew turned around to see who was talking. They froze when they saw a man in his thirties, wearing dirty blue jeans and a T-shirt holding Madison by the throat with one hand and holding a semi-automatic pistol to head.

  When the man saw them turn around, he grinned. “Just hold up right there, kid. Slowly slide that gun out of your belt and toss it over there,” he said, flicking his chin to a row of cars.

  Ethan did as the man said and tossed the empty revolver far away. The heavy pistol skittered as it slid on the rough asphalt.

  “Now you.” He pressed the barrel of his gun against her head.

  Madison looked at Ethan and Andrew but knew there was no way they could help her. She would be dead first, and then them. The aluminum bat clanked against the asphalt.

  “Alright, good. Now go that way.” He flicked his chin over to a department store. Andrew looked over at Ethan and nodded slightly and walked towards the store.

  Ethan stayed beside Andrew, and the man followed them, pushing Madison along as they walked. She could feel his crotch push against her rear as he pushed her along. She was certain that it wasn’t accidental.

  The store was a large department store. The doors were closed, and the lights were out. There were no signs that anyone was inside. When they reached the doors, the man told Andrew and Ethan to go inside, and he followed them.

  After days of no air conditioning and no windows to open, the interior of the store was oppressive. The air was thick and warm. With no breeze to even cool them off, they felt a sheen of sweat rise to their brow. From somewhere deep inside the store, they could smell rotting flesh and old shit.

  “Now, drop those bags and go up the stairs,” the man said, flicking his chin towards a pair of escalators ahead of them.

  Ethan hoped to reason with him. “You can just have what we’ve got. We have food, water, even beer and cigarettes. You can just take it all, and we can be on our way.”

  He smiled. “Oh, we’re going to take all of that and a bit more.” He ground his hips against Madison’s rear and leered at them.

  Andrew turned towards the broken escalator. Ethan looked helplessly at Madison. His heart pounded in his chest from fear of what would happen to her. Her eyes welled up with tears again, but she nodded that she knew he couldn’t help her.

  Ethan turned and followed Andrew up the stairs. When he arrived at the top, he saw the open area of the home furnishings. Another man, Hispanic and in his thirties laid out on a long, brown couch surrounded cases of water and potato chips.

  When he saw Andrew and Ethan, he grabbed his semi-automatic pistol and jumped to his feet, pointing the gun at them. But then relaxed and smiled when he saw his partner come up the escalator with Madison.

  “Well it looks like you found something better than cigarettes out in those cars,” the man said.

  Ethan glanced around. He did not see anyone else approaching them and hoped that these two men were the only ones in the store. The area was filthy. The two men were obviously squatting and sleeping on the once pristine furniture. Now, there were stacks of clothes, jewelry, cigarettes, and large cans of food. Nothing that would ac
tually help someone survive. The smell of shit was stronger up here.

  “Oh, I got us some cigarettes and some beer and some pussy,” the man laughed as he presented Madison to him.

  “I bet she ain’t as tight as the other one.”

  “But less crazy. Keep an eye on these two while I break her in.”

  The man holding Madison pushed her away from the group and towards a bed that one of them had been sleeping in. The other man moved to block their way, pointing his gun at Ethan and Andrew as they moved to follow.

  “Oh no, just stand right there. Let’s let them have a little privacy.”

  Ethan couldn’t see what the man was doing to Madison. He could see the bed bounce as she was pushed on it. Once the man got on top of her, he could no longer see what was happening. His heart pounded, and his eyes burned at the man holding a gun on him. The man looked back and forth between Ethan and Andrew with a smug look.

  “Get the fuck off me!” Madison yelled. Ethan could hear the bed squeak as they wrestled on it.

  Ethan heard her cry out in shock, and the man shouted, “Stop fucking moving, or I’ll blow your fucking head off, slut!”

  Ethan couldn’t bear anymore, and he yelled at the man on Madison. “Leave her alone!”

  The man holding a gun on him raised it to Ethan’s face. “You want to take her place, faggot? I bet you got a pretty butthole to go with those pink sandals.”

  Ethan was shocked into silence. He studied the man’s face. It was cruel, and the tattoos on his face and neck showed that he had spent some time in prison.

  Ethan just stood down, the blood rushing to his head and hands. He knew he should do something, but there was nothing to do that wouldn’t get someone killed.

  Ethan stood there, heart pounding, and feeling sick to his stomach. The muffled crying coming from the bed was unbearable as Ethan’s imagination flooded him with images of what might be happening to Madison.

 

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