Day One (Book 3): Alone

by Michael McDonald

  More questions than answers circled through my head. And maybe that’s what it wanted, since I killed the rest of its pack – I presumed so, since no more of them had appeared. Maybe it wanted me not to feel threatened in order to get closer to me? We have a tendency to let non-threatening things closer to us, in our lives every day, which make us vulnerable. Yes, they aren’t the undead that I am referring to, but it’s really no different if you stop and think about it. These people that we let close to us have the ability at any time to harm us. Yes there is a big difference between mental harm and physical harm, but what I’m trying to say, is that we humans have the same opportunities to grant mercy as we do to inflict harm.

  “No shoot,” the figure said. “Save… you.” It continued to eye me without so much as an ounce of malice anywhere upon its face.

  What do you say to something in that instant? Especially something that could have joined in with the six undead and helped to not only take you down, but also eat you alive. I was done with all of this shit. I didn’t understand any of it and quite frankly, I was tired of even trying to understand or figure it out. I needed to just get away and think clearly without having to look over my shoulder ever thirty seconds.

  I lowered the rifle.

  There was a silent moment between the thing and I, as if we were both unsure of what to say or do next. I chose to leave and darted for the pickup with the keys in my hand. Opening the door I took one last glance at my friend in the hallway, looking at me. I didn’t know what to think, or even which direction to let my mind roam. I entered and shut the door. “What the hell just happened?” I asked aloud and started the truck.

  Down the same roads, once again, I had time to ponder – and not just the things in recent memory, but everything from day one. Those distant memories, which seemed now like a lifetime ago, gave me a new understanding of myself. I didn’t see the person on the outside – the intolerable reflection in the mirror. I saw the person that mattered more… the willful spirit on the inside. The one that had stood against a great many things, wrestled with giving up on the old world and accepting the new one for what it truly was.

  I was alive.

  I had made my choices. And now I was alone.

  How could anyone that had suffered and survived so much and done the things I had, not to mention the things I’d seen that would forever haunt a many sleepless nights, even remotely consider himself a coward? I had run when things were hostile, who wouldn’t have? I had backed away from several fights, due to my morals. I had chosen to live like a civilized human being in an uncivilized world. Yet even with all of these accomplishments, the narrow escapes, the harrowing rescues, all the while facing death in the face at every turn, I still couldn’t shake the feeling of being that coward.

  My wife was dead. I’d left her in the middle of the kitchen without so much as checking to ensure that she was really gone or still alive where I could have tried to help her. That thought was absurd, I knew it. Even if she had still been alive, and let’s face it that’s a pretty big if, there was nowhere that I could have taken her. The Police didn’t want to help me, even though I had went to them, so how would me getting her into the SUV and racing off into the night of made any difference? Loading her would have left Kember in mortal danger as well as myself. Just helping her could have killed us all. And what would that have solved?

  It was because of all that that I embraced, instead of continued to fight, the title of coward and would respectfully carry it with me, wearing it like a varsity jacket until my last breath. There were things I could have done, should have done, but I didn’t. I could have called or text the people I knew that night and warned them. Instead I left my daughter and wished them the best. At the fork in the road I could have turned and went for my son – I was here now, nine days later – but instead, I went immediately to the interstate to save my daughter’s life. At least that’s what I tried to tell myself later, when in fact I might have done it to save my own ass. It really didn’t matter, because there was no help when we arrived. I don’t think there ever really was any to begin with. I think the cop knew that, although compared to what he did know for sure, he sent us there to get us out of town and save us.

  Everyone there was dead now, so there was no further need to dig up the dead.

  Entering the city limits, I slowed my speed, still used to following the laws as I had done for the better part of my life.

  Two gas stations, one on either side of the highway, burned brightly in the wee hours of the morning. The undead shuffled about in the parking lots, lost in their mindless parade. I sped past and crossed the overpass – not a single vehicle rumbled along on the interstate below. The world truly looked and acted dead.

  On the other side, on the right, another gas station with only a few interior lights burning took me back to my hunger. A cold soda, something I could throw into the microwave and a pack of smokes would help me forget about my troubles for a while.

  I slowed and pulled into the parking lot, instantly looking for any undead or those new things, but I knew if there were any, the latter would be well hidden and not out shuffling around in the fluorescent lights. I made a complete circle around the entire station, careful to keep my short rifle barrel on the open window ledge in case I had to make quick work of anyone.

  Seeing that the coast was clear, on the outside anyway, I slid slowly into a parking spot in front of the doors and sat there a moment waiting. If there was anyone inside, they would eventually see me and come out, alive or undead. I wasn’t happy with staying in one spot too long, but I was even more unhappy about blindly running into stupid shit I could have easily avoided had I just used my brain, thought for a few seconds, and had some patience.

  Crawling out of the truck, I flipped the selector switch to full-auto, as I was in no mood to play with whoever wanted to start any shit. I’d much rather shoot them, get the things I needed, and be on my way rather than let them dictate how things would go down and when. No! That time had passed, that boat had sailed, so to speak and I was about as serious as I had ever been in my life.

  At the glass doors, I pushed through slowly and quietly, not knowing if there might be someone or something just out of sight. Let’s not forget my luck with convenience stores. Even if I had a damn tank, I would still be the one that had bad luck. I would probably run up on the one asshole with a fucking RPG. It could happen… I seriously doubt it right now, but it could happen

  There was no one either in the isle to the left or behind the counter on my right. I whistled a few times and no one came running, so I figured, for the moment, that it was clear and set about what I had stopped for. At the counter I reached and grabbed several cartons of smokes and stacked them near the register. From there I moved down the pastry isle, grabbing everything that looked yummy – I was starving, so that was damn near ever wrapped goody I passed. At the coolers in the back of the store, I opened and chugged a soda, and then took several large energy drinks. Those things will kill you if you drink them way too often, but seeing how the world was already in hell and I was just along for the ride, I might as well drink, eat, and smoke whatever the hell I damn well pleased. What am I going to do, die of cancer?

  I placed a few microwavable burgers in the microwave and set off.

  I said nothing in my task, as the touchy elevator music played overhead, breaking my eyes from the shopping only a few times to glance at the truck outside, studying the parking lot and surrounding darkness before going back. Each time I jingled the keys in my pocket to make sure I still had them and no one could just run up, start it and drive away. If they tried, it’d be their last attempt.

  Ding!

  My three packaged cheeseburgers were done and I raced to them like a man starving to death, and being I was only a buck and a half soaking wet, that literally could have been the case. I ate two of them in under a minute’s time, washed them down with a soda, and then finished the third one. I lit a cigarette and stood there
under the ceiling fan reveling in the moment. Right now, this very second, I was in perfect harmony. All of this was one giant dream, the world had not gone to hell and I’d soon wake to find my wife cooking breakfast, Gage playing video games, Kember lying next to me as usual, and the step-daughter helping her mother.

  Here in this gas station with microwavable food in my stomach, I was reminded how important the little things were. It was the little things that made life so enjoyable, as well as memorable. I found myself thinking back to a better time, a time way before all of this had taken place and let myself go to the reverie. Kember, Gage, the step-daughter, wife, and I had taken a trip before, more like a road trip for the day, and found nothing open on arrival. We wound up eating at a gas station and even though the idea sucked at first, it turned out pretty good. Nothing like we were expecting, as the preconceived notions of chilly burritos in the center filled our minds. We had been wrong about it, although we never did it again, not until now.

  “Can you help me?” A female voice called to me. I immediately spun and brought the short rifle to my shoulder. As I stated earlier, I was in no mood to play with anyone and if they had come looking for trouble, then that’s exactly what they would find, but the outcome was not going to be in their favor. The woman that appeared before me in the doorway was dingy, her hair was greasy and I could see a unique look of help shining in her eyes. She was frightened by my sudden need for a weapon and she took a step back and banged into the now closed doors.

  I checked to my left to see that part of the gas station clear, and then to my right, finding nothing there but the isle of treats and the coolers at the rear. I was on guard, my sense were heightened and I was ready for the fight I knew was coming. I hadn’t fallen of the stupid wagon yesterday, I was certain that she was setting me up. But how?

  “Show me your hands,” I commanded her.

  “I need help, please help me,” she replied ignoring my command.

  I thrust the barrel toward her and spoke in a deeper tone, “Show me your fucking hands!”

  Slowly she brought them both into sight. “See, I don’t have anything to hurt you with. Will you help me now?”

  “Come away from the door before someone see’s you. Move to the counter, but don’t even think of trying anything funny or I’ll put you down,” I stated.

  Hesitantly she complied and moved slowly toward the counter with both hands high in the air. I could see that she knew I was being serious about putting her down and she didn’t want any trouble.

  “You have any weapons on you, a gun or a knife, anything that could hurt me?” I asked and watched closely for her answer. Body language could tell a lot about a person and the funny thing was they didn’t know they were even telling on themselves if they knew nothing about their own actions. The Young Woman had taught me a great deal about that, something I had let slip by when Smith had offered me his hand. I should have known better, but being blinded by getting my son back, I was willing to compromise to get what I came for. That turned out to be a major mistake, yet at the same time I had taken Smith out and possibly saved countless others in the process. I felt good about that.

  Sharply she turned from helpless victim to offended possible assailant. “What are you, some kind of cop or something?”

  Even thought the safety on my short rifle was off and set to full-auto, I quickly switched it to semi in hopes of letting that sound vibrate throughout the store, letting her know I was not playing anymore. “Lady, I have dealt with more than enough bullshit within the last few hours, the last few days, and I am in no mood to play around with you or anyone else. I won’t ask you again.”

  “Yes!” She stated loudly. “I have a knife in my back pocket. Are you happy now?”

  Her statement had held about as much validity as a submarine with screen doors.

  “So you’ve lasted all this time alone, with those things out there and expect me to honestly believe a knife is all you have?” I asked her. My eyes watched her for any body language that would tell me what I already knew. She wasn’t alone, hell, she never had been. These people always traveled in packs, the things is, you just couldn’t see the others until it was too late.

  She ditched the idea of answering my questions. “Is that your truck out there?”

  Wait, haven’t I heard these exact words before? Weren’t they spoken to me in another gas station when all of this first started? Of course they were. How on earth do I keep finding myself in these situations? I mean, is there a neon sign above my head I can’t see that beckons all of the low-life scum to come running at me, thinking I’m an easy target because it’s just me? Do they not see the military gear I have on or the short barreled select fire rifle in my hands? Seriously?

  “Yeah, it is… so your coming threats had better be bulletproof, because I’m willing to bet you aren’t,” I responded coldly and shifted the rifle directly at her. All I had to do was pull the trigger and she would cease to exist. That’s actually what my mind told me to do, as I was no longer bound by my morals and ethics that would have stupidly fell for her hollow pleas for help, only this time I wouldn’t wake up in a classroom. I’d wind up dead in the parking lot.

  “I don’t want any trouble, really. I just wanted a ride, nothing more.”

  “You mean you and your friends hiding out there somewhere wanted a ride? After you robbed me of course and either left me stranded or dead?”

  I could see the offended look trying to resurface upon her face, but she kept it in check, although her words didn’t listen. “The world has gone to shit, there’s things out there that will kill you for no reason at all, and you cannot even be human enough to help a single lady out?” She blasted. “What kind of a man are you?”

  “One that isn’t going to fall for your bullshit,” I replied. “Now I think it’s time you left, while you still have that option. Go find someone else to try your manipulation on.”

  She looked coldly at me. “And if I refuse?”

  I jerked the rifle only two inches to the right and fired. She shuttered at the light sound as a large two liter bottle of soda exploded, sending streams of room temperature, fizzy soda in all directions. She spun her head to see the remnants of the bottle fall and hit the floor before looking back at me to see the barrel back on her.

  “This thing is super quiet, which means I can kill you and walk out of here without your buddies even knowing your dead,” I added.

  “We could have helped you… we have a large place,” she said.

  “I don’t want or need your help, lady.”

  She glared at me a moment and spoke. “Fine, have it your way.”

  There was no need for any further words, as I had gotten my point across to her. She continued to glare at me, turned and made her way out of the gas station and I watched her hurry away from the store and slip into the seamless rainy night, keeping my eyes peeled for any movement that would indicate her friends were running away as well. She would have to circle the entire store if she wanted another shot at me, giving herself more than enough time to let her friends in on what they were up against, although something told me that they would be foolish, if not stupid, to attempt another encounter with me.

  I grabbed the things I had scrounged up placed them in a small bag and headed for the door, making sure to thoroughly scan every square inch of the parking lot before venturing out into the unknown. The last thing I needed was to be surprised from two different directions at once long before reaching the somewhat safety of the pickup. And even though my eyes had not continually been plastered to the vehicle, I was almost certain that no one would be stupid enough to hide within after seeing what had taken place inside the store.

  The rain fell to the music of rumbling thunder as I made my way cautiously toward the pickup. The rifle was firmly planted in my shoulder and my head swiveled from one direction to the other as I grew closer. The keys remained in my pocket until I’d reach the pickup to make sure no one could slid out of the sur
rounding darkness, snatch them from my grasp and scurry off, so when I finally reached my destination and put my back to the door, I fished them out and gave a last glance all around me.

  In the cab with the door shut and locked, I knew I was most vulnerable in a stationary position and hurriedly inserted the keys and started the pickup. I placed the SBR between the seat and console for quick access, and then scanned once more for any signs of the helpless victim, luckily I didn’t see her.

  Something entered my nose that was foreign to the truck at the exact same time I felt an uneasy spark of worry come to life. A faint noise slowly drove my left hand toward the holster on my right hip as a figure loomed in the rear view mirror followed by the sound of a hammer cocking and a massive barrel touching the back of my head.

  “Do anything stupid and I’ll blow your head off!” A voice spoke from behind. “Put both hands on the steering wheel where I can see them, now!”

  I did as they asked, taking that moment to sneak a quick peek into the mirror to see a young kid holding a large chrome plated revolver and nervously looking around. His action worried me even more, as all he had to do was inadvertently pull the trigger and I was dead. He caught my glance in the mirror, but instead of seeing sinister eyes glaring back at me, I saw nothing more than fear. He looked no different than the woman I had just encountered, with matted hair and dirty clothes.

  “That’s a huge gun you have there, kid. You need to be careful with that thing,” I said as calmly as I could, hoping to ease him a bit.

  “Shut up!” He shouted at me. “Give me all your money and then get out of the truck slowly!”

  Give me all your money? My mind repeated. “Are you serious?” I asked him, still unsure if I had heard him correctly. “The world’s gone to hell and you want all of my money?” I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand what he planned on doing with the twenty-three dollars I had to my name. It wasn’t like he could use it for anything when every store you could possibly come across was vacant of anyone, except maybe the undead, so why did he need my money.