Voodoo Plague - 01

by Dirk Patton

  I grinned from ear to ear. This was like a present being dropped in my lap. A moment later the grin disappeared when I turned the corner to get the truck off the main road. The steel security door was torn out of its frame and lay on the sidewalk. The inside of the store was dark and I couldn’t tell if there were a hundred infected waiting inside for me or if it was empty. Oh well, only one way to find out.

  Parking the truck by the door I left the motor running. I was torn as the diesel engine was so loud it would mask the sound of threats, but having the truck ready to go might save our lives. I opted to take the risk and deal with the engine noise.

  Carefully scanning in all directions I couldn’t detect any threats. I told Rachel to slide behind the wheel, lock the doors, put the truck in drive and keep her foot on the brake. In an emergency I could dive into the bed of the truck and she could have us moving instantly.

  Pistol in a two handed combat grip I stepped around the back of the truck and flattened my back against the cinder block wall next to the open doorway. I wasn’t wild about stepping into that doorway and silhouetting myself for anyone lying in wait, but we needed the type of supplies that were still hopefully in the store.

  I leaned my head forward and tried to see through the door, but the daylight penetrated a few feet at best, the rest of the store invisible to my day adjusted vision. Taking a deep breath I moved, stepping sideways through the door and out of the light as quickly as I could.

  Pistol up and ready to fire I scanned my surroundings as best I could in the dark, my hands keeping the pistol perfectly synchronized with my line of sight as I’d been taught so many years ago.

  A bumping/shuffling sound caught my attention from deeper in the gloom and I focused on the direction it was coming from. My eyes were adjusting to the gloom and I realized it wasn’t pitch black in the store. I could see what looked like a body on the floor a few yards away, then it stood up and the stray light caught its eyes which flashed a bright yellow.

  I was caught off guard, expecting an infected to stand up. Instead a large German Shepherd stood there, tail held tightly between its back legs and head lowered below shoulder level. He stared at me and me at him. A long moment later he let out a low whine and slowly sat down.

  Now I’m a sucker for dogs. Trusting that the dog would be more agitated if there were any threats in the store I cautiously approached him. He tracked me with those yellow eyes the whole time, head and ears up, but he didn’t try to move away or exhibit any aggressive behavior.

  When I got close I started talking to him in a low, even voice. I kept approaching until I was a foot in front of him with my hand held out for him to sniff the back. He gave me a sniff, then a lick on my hand and another low whine. His tongue and nose was as dry as sandpaper.

  I turned my hand over and placed it on top of his head, gently scratching between his ears, then working down to his collar. A leash that I couldn’t see in the gloom connected his collar to an eyebolt set into a steel framed display case.

  Trusting my new friend I squatted down with my face just inches in front of his and unhooked the leash. He immediately stood up and shook, then nuzzled my hand and moved to press his flank against my leg.

  The dog was seriously dehydrated, probably having gone a couple of days without water. I’d take care of that shortly. He was going with me if he would get in the truck.

  Stepping behind the display counter I started searching the store. From next to the register I grabbed a fistful of plastic bags and started filling them with everything I could find that might be useful. I was excited to find a handheld GPS and stuffed that into a bag with lots of extra batteries. A lantern, portable cook stove, a mess kit for camping, socks, boots (I took a guess on Rachel’s size), clothing, and much more.

  The store had been ransacked and so far it looked like the looters had been after weapons and ammunition. Those were the two things I hadn’t found any of yet. Still grabbing items I came across some canvas duffel bags and shoved all of my filled plastic shopping bags into them.

  When I had two large duffels so full I could barely zip them I set them by the end of the counter and snapped on a small flashlight I’d found. The display cases that apparently had held firearms were all smashed and empty. The shelves behind them that were stickered for ammunition were also bare.

  I started looking for a back room or office, doubting that the owner had his entire inventory out on display. A door behind a rack of boony hats was marked PRIVATE and was still intact. Grabbing one of the hats and putting it on my head I opened the door and walked into the arms of an infected male who had been trapped in the office.

  The dog let out a growl and launched off the ground, clamping his powerful jaws on the man’s forearm. The weight of the dog drug the arm down and unbalanced the infected. This bought me the opportunity to push away, shove the pistol into the soft tissue under its chin and pull the trigger. The muffled shot blew out the top of its head and the body dropped to the floor, the dog releasing his bite and sitting down as if he were guarding the body.

  I scanned the room with the small flashlight and spotted what I’d hoped to see. A vault was set into the side wall of the room. The door was closed and I held my breath as I tugged on the handle. I sighed with relief when it came open, battery powered lights snapping on to illuminate the inside.

  The vault wasn’t large, probably no more than eight by ten feet, but as I hoped there were weapons and ammunition stored inside. I looked over my shoulder at the infected I’d just killed, probably the store owner, and thanked him.

  Ten minutes later, freshly armed, I stepped out of the vault with a duffel bag full of ammo. It must have weighed over 100 pounds, which sounds like a lot of ammo, but I know from experience just how fast you can burn through bullets in a firefight. I had cleaned out the vault and it was time to go.

  Back in the main store area I adjusted the sling of the M4 rifle I’d just acquired, grabbed the two waiting duffels with my left hand and ammo duffel in my right and headed for the door where I could hear the waiting diesel idling loudly. The dog stayed by my side and I was glad to see his tail had come up slightly as he got more comfortable with me.

  We stepped through the door into the daylight and I was momentarily blinded. I knew better, should have stood inside the doorway looking out for a few moments to give my eyes a chance to adjust, but my mental clock was screaming at me that we’d been in one place too long. The dog growled deep in his chest as a deep voice with a thick Georgia accent told me to stop right where I was.

  14

  I froze in place, one step outside the doorway, and turned towards the voice. It was the group of men we’d passed earlier. I mentally kicked myself for being dumb enough to stop so soon after seeing them.

  The man that had spoken was a big, hard looking guy with any equally big belly. He was dressed in well-worn jeans, a checked work shirt and work boots with dried mud on them. He looked like he hadn’t shaved for a week and greasy hair stuck out from underneath a ball cap that was so dirty I couldn’t tell what it originally advertised. The others were similarly dressed and my guess was they were co-workers.

  He held a long barreled shotgun pointed between me and the dog who had stopped a few feet in front of me and to my left. A quick glance around spotted three of the other four guys that I had seen with him. One of them was behind me with a bolt action rifle pointed at my back, one was behind the talker keeping an eye out for infected and the third was in front of the truck with a scoped rifle pointed directly at Rachel as she sat behind the steering wheel. Where the hell was the other guy?

  “So what we got here?” The talker asked with a big grin that revealed tobacco stained teeth. “Looks like a looter. What you boys think?”

  The guy behind me spoke up, “Looks like an asshole to me, Danny.” I heard him spit followed by a wet splash when what I figured was a stream of tobacco juice hit the sidewalk.

  “So whyn’t you go on and put them bags down, Mr. Loot
er. And that fancy rifle while you’re at it. We’ll just hold on to everything until the rightful owner claims it.” He was grinning, but the smile didn’t make it to his eyes. He had eyes like a pig, small and dark, the pupil and iris so close in color that you couldn’t see anything except dark.

  I slowly flexed my knees and half squatted, lowering the more than 200 pounds of duffel bags to the ground, never taking my eyes off the leader.

  “You sure you want to do this?” I asked in a low voice as I straightened back up.

  The grin didn’t falter, “Evan, you get that fancy rifle off his back for me. I think it’s time to upgrade from this scatter gun.”

  I prepared myself, but didn’t tense as Evan stepped up behind me. I felt him grab the rifle barrel and tug and I turned slightly and let him pull the sling over my head. He now had a rifle in each hand and couldn’t use either one.

  As I had turned and ducked for Evan to pull the rifle off my shoulder I had slipped my hand under my shirt and onto the butt of the pistol I’d picked up in the outfitter store vault. An FNH FNX45 loaded with 16 rounds of .45 caliber hollow point +P ammo was in my hand and ready to go.

  I leaned to the other side and brought the pistol up and put three rounds into Danny, two to the chest and one to the head. He dropped like a sack of bricks. The other three froze, but I didn’t.

  Three more rounds dropped the look out, but the other two had started moving again. The guy in front of the truck shifted his aim to me but before he could fire the engine roared and the truck shot forward with a screech of tires. He bounced off the push bar and flew backwards, landing on the pavement with a sickening crunch of breaking bones a second before the three ton Ford rolled over him and crushed his skull.

  The dog attacked at the same time. He hit Evan just above the waist and drove him to the ground on his back, both rifles flying out of his hands and clattering away. Evan started screaming as he fought the dog but I silenced him by stepping up and planting the toe of my shoe into his balls as hard as I could.

  All the fight and screaming went out of him instantly and he curled into a ball with a pathetic moan. The dog backed off a foot, but stood over him with hackles raised and teeth bared. I was really starting to like this pooch.

  A squeal of tires caught my attention and I ran to the corner of the building to see the rusty Taurus disappear down the road. Mystery of the fourth guy solved. He’d stayed with the car.

  I motioned Rachel to unlock the truck and I loaded the three duffel bags into the back seat. “Lock it back up. Gotta grab a couple more things.”

  Back in the vault I picked up two more M4 assault rifles I had set out as well as a box full of empty 30 round magazines. I took one more look around the vault but didn’t spot anything else.

  The dog was still guarding Evan when I got back outside. I heard the door locks thunk open as I approached the truck and I quickly stowed the rifles and magazines in the back seat.

  “We’ve got company coming,” Rachel said, pointing down the street at a couple of dozen males shambling towards us.

  I whistled for the dog and he looked up at me. I gestured at the back seat and in a flash of fur he bounded across the sidewalk and into the truck. I slammed the door and turned and looked at Evan. He wasn’t moving and the infected males would be on him in less than a minute. I had a momentary thought that I should do something to help him, but dismissed it as quickly as it came to me. Hopping behind the wheel I closed and locked the doors and drove away without another thought.

  15

  We drove for another half hour then stopped when we found an open park that was deserted. We stopped in a parking lot that was surrounded by soccer fields on all sides, giving us at least 200 yards of open space to the nearest tree line. Two roads led in and out of the park providing reasonable escape routes if we needed them, but I was confident we could just drive across the fields if necessary.

  Heavy clouds were building to the north as the afternoon wore on, black and swollen on the bottom and I expected a big storm within the next few hours. I’d experienced the kind of summer storms that can blast through Atlanta and I wanted to keep our stop short and find some shelter for the night.

  The first order of business was to water Dog. Not ‘the dog’, just Dog. I didn’t know his name, but decided to name him after the dog John Wayne had in my favorite movie, Big Jake. So Dog it was.

  I dug through the duffel bags until I found the mess kit I’d looted from the outfitter. A shallow aluminum bowl worked great and I only gave Dog a little water at a time, giving his stomach a chance to absorb rather than cramp and make him throw the water up.

  Rachel watched me in silence and I realized she hadn’t said anything since we’d left the outfitters. “What’s on your mind?” I asked, scratching Dog between the ears as I poured a little more water into his bowl.

  She watched me another minute before asking, “Who the hell are you? You killed two of those men in less than two seconds, you left one to be killed by the infected and here you are petting a dog like nothing has happened.” She stared at me closely with not exactly fear in her eyes, but concern over the psychopath she’d hooked up with.

  I sighed and gave Dog some more water that he greedily lapped up. “I’m just a business man that happened to be here and not at home when the shit hit the fan.”

  “Bullshit!” She turned sideways in the seat to fully face me and crossed her arms over her chest. “Business men don’t know how to kill two men with a hand gun faster than I can blink, then go on about their day like nothing happened. Business men don’t even look like you for Christ’s sake. I haven’t seen arms like yours anywhere other than on TV or in magazines. Now tell me the truth. I need to trust you and right now I don’t.”

  I faced forward and sat for a minute staring out the windshield at the gathering clouds. Dog, satiated for the moment, stuck his head between the two front seats and put his chin on the arm rest between them. He could feel the tension in the truck but didn’t seem inclined to take sides, rather kept looking back and forth between Rachel and me.

  Rachel reached out and put a hand on his head while she stared me down. Finally I pulled out my wallet and handed her a business card. She took it and looked at it for a bit.

  “You’re a program manager for Tatushima?” She asked, the doubt clear in her voice.

  “Yes, I am,” I answered. “But I’ve not always been a program manager. Army Special Forces, Green Beret, and then a tactical assault trainer for the DEA before I got into a more boring line of work.”

  She handed me the card back and I replaced it in my wallet before returning the wallet to my pocket. I looked at her and shrugged my shoulders.

  “Don’t know what to tell you. At best, those guys would have taken everything we had and left us standing there with no way to defend ourselves. At worst, well… I think you can imagine what the worst would have been.

  “Guys like that were kept in control, mostly, by the police and the threat of jail if they let their urges get the best of them. This is their big opportunity to finally behave the way they want to, not the way society tells them they have to.

  “I didn’t start it. I didn’t go looking for trouble with them. All I did was finish it. Permanently. Unfortunately I expect we’ll run into more people like them than we will good people. I’ve spent a lot of time in places in the world that were coming apart at the seams and there’s always assholes like these guys that see opportunity to prey on the week. I don’t like bullies much, and that’s all they are.”

  This was probably the most I’d said to Rachel at one time since I had rescued her the previous morning. I expected her to take some time to digest what I’d just said and then try to argue with me and tell me why I was wrong.

  “OK then. Thank you for telling me. Now we’d better find some place to shelter for the night before that storm gets here. I really don’t want to spend the night…”

  We both jumped and Dog leapt to his feet and started
growling when the whole truck rocked from the impact of two infected females slamming into the right rear door. We’d been so absorbed in our conversation that none of us had seen them coming.

  Looking around I spotted several more running towards us across the empty fields. At least 20 males were shambling along behind them.

  “Time to go,” I said, putting the truck in gear and hitting the throttle. We quickly pulled away, but one of the females that had slammed into the truck had a grip on the mesh covering Rachel’s side window and was pulling on it, trying to rip it off the truck and get inside.

  “Get on the floor,” I shouted at Rachel who instantly complied.

  Hitting a button on the driver’s door the passenger window buzzed down and suddenly the cab was filled with the roar of the diesel and the snarls of the infected woman. Raising the .45 I fired a single shot that took the top of her head off, the body dropping away and a heartbeat later a bump as the rear tire rolled over her. I rolled the window back up and Rachel climbed back into her seat looking shaken.

  “What the hell?” Rachel asked. “Where did they come from? There weren’t any around when we pulled in.”

  I slowed at the end of the access road to the park and turned back onto the main road. Immediately ahead about a quarter of a mile was an overpass and signs said we were approaching I-575.

  The visible portion of the freeway was jammed with cars as was the surface street and on ramps. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people wandered amongst the stalled cars. As we got closer I recognized the uncoordinated walk of the infected and jammed on the brakes.

  “That’s where they came from,” I said, staring in horror as the crowd seemed to notice us all at once. Males started slowly turning and shambling our way but too many females to count started sprinting down the road directly at us.

  “Oh shit,” Rachel muttered, a hand over her mouth.