by Dirk Patton
At the top of the slope was a massive house, lit up like there was a party going on. The house was two stories and painted a gleaming white, an oversized porch running the length of the back of the house, a balcony for the second floor rooms also ran the length of the house and provided a roof over the first floor porch. Rachel was herded up onto the porch and through a set of French doors into a giant kitchen that would have looked right at home in a five-star restaurant.
She was pushed and the whole group wound up in an adjacent room that had several sofas scattered around the walls and an oversized pool table. They all came to a stop and Rachel did a quick head count. Twelve of them surrounded her in a loose circle. They were all cut from the same mold as the man who had attacked her on the boat. Some smaller and scrawny, some as large as him. None of them looked to place personal hygiene very high on their list of priorities.
The room stank of stale beer and cigarette smoke. The detritus of an ongoing party was scattered everywhere. Cigarette butts and burns marred the carpeting and most of the upholstery. Not a pleasant party Rachel had walked into.
The man from the boat stepped in front of her with the knife in his hand. Rachel didn’t shrink back. She wasn’t worried about being killed. That wasn’t what they wanted her for. He reached out with one big hand and grabbed her right arm, lifting her wrists so he could saw through the ropes binding her.
Moments later the pins and needles pain came and Rachel couldn’t stop herself from rubbing her hands together to ease the discomfort. Knife man tossed the cut ropes behind him and raised the knife until the tip came to rest against the soft skin underneath Rachel’s jaw.
“Take ‘em off,” He said, his eyes locked on hers watching for any sign of defiance.
Rachel held his stare for a few moments before sighing and stepping back away from the knife. In one fluid motion she grasped the hem of her T shirt and pulled it over her head. She hadn’t had a bra since going to work the night before the world ended, so her breasts were bare when the shirt came off. She could hear several of the men catch their breath and others mutter curses as they got a good look at her breasts in the brightly lit room.
A woman who hadn’t worked as a stripper for a living might have been self-conscious to the point of trying to cover her breasts with her hands, but Rachel understood enough about men like these to know that would just get her hit and she’d still have to stand there with her tits hanging out. She looked across the faces in front of her while they all stared at her chest, hoping to find a sympathetic face, but failing. There was one man that was staring at her face, not her breasts, with an intensity that turned her blood cold. Rachel tagged him as the one to watch out for.
“Keep going, girl.” Knife man grumbled, waving a meaty finger at the baggy sweat shorts Rachel had found on the boat when she cleaned up.
Without comment she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of the shorts and peeled them down to her feet in one fluid motion, stepping out of them and leaving them laying on the floor. Rachel hadn’t been wearing shoes and was now as naked as the day she was born. Knife man stepped close and started caressing a breast, then squeezed her nipple hard enough to send a jolt of pain all the way to her toes. Somehow she restrained herself from punching him in the throat, standing there and taking the abuse without showing any pain.
After a few more seconds of twisting and pinching her nipple he made a humphing sound deep in his chest and reached for her wrist. With his big hand firmly wrapped around her slender wrist he led Rachel out of the room, across the kitchen and down a short hall to a small bedroom. Closing the door behind them he sheathed the knife at his boot and reached for his belt buckle with a smile on his face.
30
“Stop,” I said. “I don’t need to hear this unless you need to talk about it.”
Rachel had been sitting very still with a detached look on her face as she spoke, very much like she was telling a story about someone else. In a way, I guess she was. My voice had interrupted her and she reached up to wipe her eyes which had grown watery.
“It’s OK,” she said. “I gave him what he wanted freely rather than fighting a losing battle. It would have happened one way or another. At the end of the day it was just sex with someone that I would rather forget.”
I looked into her eyes and saw the pain that she was dealing with. There was nothing I could do, and I’ve finally gotten old enough to know when to leave things alone.
“Besides,” she continued. “I took care of him. Remember the guy with the butcher knife in his back?”
I raised my eyebrows and waited for her to nod. After a minute she smiled weakly and nodded. Sniffing and wiping her eyes one more time Rachel stood and picked up my rifle.
“Time to check the area,” She said. “The sun will be going down soon and I want one last scan of the shoreline before it gets too dark.”
Rachel left the salon, Dog close on her heels. I could see her through the glass door, standing at the rail with the binoculars to her eyes. Nothing she told me had surprised me. When I saw the group that was holding her and how they were treating her I had expected this, but a small part of me had hoped that I had gotten there in time to prevent it. Another voice in my head reminded me that if I hadn’t forgotten Dog in the first place I would have been on the boat and Rachel never would have been taken. I tried to silence that thought but it stayed in the back of my head as I drifted back off to sleep.
I woke up sometime the next day, bright morning sunshine flooding the salon. The boat had swung on its anchor and the stern was pointing directly into the rising sun. There was a rustle of sheets next to me and I looked over to see Rachel sprawled out in bed with me. The bruising on her face was starting to fade, but she could still go out on Halloween without a mask and scare the hell out of the neighborhood kids.
I carefully tested my pain level and though it felt like the fires of hell ripping through my chest I managed to swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up without waking Rachel. I was only wearing a ratty pair of boxer shorts that I’d never seen before so I could only assume that after patching me up Rachel had cleaned me up and found the underwear that she dressed me in somewhere on the boat.
Taking a tentative step I shambled to the bathroom, head I suppose I should call it on a boat, pulled myself out of the boxers and peed a bright red stream of urine into the toilet. I flushed and waited for the sound to subside before opening the door so as not to disturb Rachel. She had probably been on deck all night keeping watch.
I looked at myself in the polished metal mirror mounted over the small sink and was shocked at how bad I really looked. Two thick bandages were taped around my left upper arm, and on my body were two more bandages held in place with white medical tape. The first one was a couple of inches directly below my left nipple and that wound seemed to be the source of the majority of my pain. The second one was on my left side, a little lower along the rib cage. So I’d taken four of the shotgun pellets. If that shotgun had been loaded with 00 buck shot I wouldn’t be standing here looking at the damage. Must have been bird shot, I mused. I was one lucky son of a bitch.
Exiting the head I made my way out the salon door and onto the deck. Dog greeted me with a frantic wagging of his tail and a cold nose that managed to slide up my bare leg and end up in a very personal location. I rubbed his head and toddled my way to a bench, slowly lowering myself to the cushioned seat. The binoculars were lying next to me and I picked them up to scan our surroundings while I enjoyed the warmth of the morning sun on my battered body.
I hadn’t realized that Rachel had anchored us just a few hundred yards off shore from the house where she had been held captive until I swung the binoculars in that direction. Crows and vultures were feasting on the bodies I had left behind and a fairly large contingent of infected wandered around the lawn. Most were males, but a few females were in the group. Several of the females stood on the dock staring at the boat. Whether they knew we were there or their attenti
on was just drawn to the gleaming white boat I didn’t know, but I was glad they couldn’t swim. At least I hoped they couldn’t swim. I hadn’t seen any evidence to indicate they could, quite the contrary, but I reminded myself not to assume anything.
I watched the infected for a while, mind wandering. I was feeling horribly guilty over what Rachel had gone through and then it occurred to me that Katie, my wife, might be going through the same thing or worse. There’s an old saying that goes something like “polite society is just a paper thin veil that masks the true animal nature of man”. I had learned the truth of that, years ago in the different third world countries I’d operated in for the Army, but I had never witnessed it in the United States until now.
Sitting there my mind bounced between worry for Katie and guilt for Rachel. I felt a renewed sense of urgency to get to Arizona, but a degree of despair as well. We had been hiding and fighting for days and were still within a two hour drive of Atlanta. How the hell were we going to cross the majority of the country?
“Good morning.” Rachel’s voice startled me and I almost dropped the binoculars overboard. Recovering my composure I looked up at her, smiled and returned the greeting.
“Anything worth looking at?” She asked, gesturing towards the shoreline as she came over and sat down next to me.
“The new normal. Bodies on the ground and infected wandering around.”
“You’re Mr. Sunshine this morning,” she teased, then reached out and took my hand and caught my eyes with hers. “If I haven’t said it, thank you. Thank you for coming to get me.”
The lump of guilt in my throat kept me from speaking so I just nodded and looked away. I wanted to apologize, explain, and ask for understanding and forgiveness. I wanted her to have never had to experience what had happened, but none of that could be changed and I wasn’t about to dump my emotional needs on Rachel. She had endured enough.
“OK, then. I see you’re one of those guys that struggles with gratitude,” she smiled to let me know she was kidding. “I’m making some breakfast while you sit here and rest. Any requests?”
I smiled up at her, “Biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, thick sliced bacon and hash browns.”
“On its way,” Rachel replied without missing a beat and walked back into the salon.
A few minutes later she was back, balancing a paper plate on each hand. Retaking her seat next to me she handed over one of the plates, crossed her legs at the knees and balanced her plate on her lap.
“Unfortunately we were out of biscuits. The gravy was lumpy, the eggs were spoiled and I forgot bacon and potatoes the last time I went to the store.” There was glint of mischief in Rachel’s eye and the look on my face gave away my thoughts.
“Look,” She said, serious again. “It was not a fun experience. They were rough and unpleasant, but after they realized I wasn’t going to fight it cooled off their desire to abuse me and it just became less than consensual sex. I didn’t enjoy it, but I survived it and I’m not about to sit in a corner and have a pity party, so knock it the fuck off. OK?”
I looked at her face and realized she was really as OK as anyone could be after such an experience. She was a strong woman and didn’t want my sympathy.
“OK,” I said with a small grin. “Dead subject. Now, what the hell are you feeding me?”
“Stale bread, stale cheese that I had to cut the mold off of and an overripe banana that is probably the last one you will ever see, so enjoy it.”
After that we sat in the sun and ate in companionable silence. The bread was hard, the cheese was… well different, and the banana was so ripe it was almost mush, but I ate every bite. Water drawn from the lake and boiled on the small propane stove in the galley washed it all down and between the sun and a full belly I was soon fast asleep.
31
“This is Max broadcasting to tell you the truth about what’s going on in the world.”
It was eight days later and we were still anchored in the middle of the lake, resting and healing. I was up on the deck, enjoying some cool evening air when the voice cut through the static of the portable radio. I had taken to keeping the radio turned on and tuned to the frequency that Max used and was so accustomed to hearing nothing but static I didn’t immediately respond, but quickly scrambled to turn up the volume and shouted for Rachel to come out and listen. Moments later she appeared in the door, finger holding her place in the trashy romance novel she was still reading.
“There’s a lot to tell you and I’ll get through the list in no particular order. First of all we’ve had to move camp several times to avoid large herds of infected. I don’t know why the infected are herding together, and none of my sources can tell me, but I can say you should avoid the herds at all costs. If they corner you they won’t quit and they won’t leave until you’re dead.
“The remnants of the federal government are in an undisclosed secure location. I’ve got some guesses on where that might be but I’m not gonna broadcast that info in case there’s any bad guys listening. Not that some politicians getting what they deserve wouldn’t warm the cockles of my heart, but it would be counter-productive at this point.
“I have confirmation from a government source that the attacks on the US were initiated by the Chinese. They want our land and our natural resources. That’s why they haven’t sent any more nukes our way. We did hit them with multiple nukes. Most of their major cities and military installations are destroyed and casualty estimates are in the range of two hundred million dead and another hundred million with lethal doses of radiation. Sounds like a lot, but don’t forget that there’s over a billion people in China. Even if they lose another half a billion there’s still more of them than there was of us before the attacks.
“Both coasts of the US are either nuclear wastelands or completely overrun with infected. The upper Midwest is in no better shape as well as the gulf coast states. Currently I’m being told that over two thirds of the remaining population in the country has been affected by the nerve agent that was released. Apparently for the first forty eight hours the chemical was persistent and if an uninfected person was even touched by an infected that was all it took to infect them as well. I’m also being told that there is a percentage of the population that is immune to the nerve agent. That’s about the only good news at this point. The infected are lethal, and will attack and kill any uninfected person they encounter.
“These aren’t zombies, folks. They don’t have to be shot in the head to die. However, they seem to be able to ignore injuries and pain that would normally put a man down. I’ve seen infected take multiple bullets to the body and not even break stride until their body finally realized it was dead. Sometimes that can take several minutes. Heart shots and head shots are the only way to ensure an infected goes down quickly.
“Our friends in the UK and Europe, even France if you can believe it, are trying to mobilize military and humanitarian support for us, but the first convoy that headed out into the Atlantic was attacked and sunk by Chinese subs. Britain has threatened China with nuclear retaliation if there is an attack on another British ship. The Chinese have not responded and it’s not clear who’s in charge over there at the moment. The Europeans have been bringing in food and medical supplies on cargo planes. With the east coast devastated they’re coming further inland and staging into Nashville and Kansas City. These are the two largest cities left relatively intact and they’re also both on major interstate highway routes and the Army and National Guard are doing all they can to start these supplies moving out to areas where people need help.
“Finally, back to the infected. As I mentioned earlier we are seeing them congregate in herds for unknown reasons. As of yesterday there are massive herds moving north away from the gulf coast and west away from the eastern seaboard. The military is making preparations west of the Appalachians and along the southern Tennessee border to stop the infected from reaching the distribution center in Nashville. So far no herds have been spotted that threat
en Kansas City. If you are south of Tennessee and trying to reach Nashville you need to hurry. The biggest herd is estimated to be four days away from Tennessee and once it gets there no one will be able to get through.”
There was a pause and rustle of papers. Over the open mic Max could be heard taking a drink of something then the click and rasp of a Zippo as he lit a cigarette. A long exhale later and he continued.
“That’s it, my friends. Don’t quit fighting and for God’s sake don’t start shooting people because they look Chinese. There’s a lot of Asian people in this country who are as patriotic to the US of A as the rest of us. Now if you see an Asian in a uniform you don’t recognize, drill the little fucker! Be safe, God Bless, and God Bless America.”.
32
Rachel and I looked at each other and her expression mirrored my thoughts. “Oh, shit.” I said.
Over the past week I’d been putting a lot of thought into how we would get to Arizona. I’d stared at maps for hours, made notes, calculated how fast we could move and made lists of equipment we’d need to carry once we left the relative security of the boat. Rachel had asked to see what I was doing a couple of times, but lost interest quickly and found something else to occupy herself. I was touched by the level of trust she was showing me, but then after what we’d been through if we couldn’t trust each other now there was not much point in continuing on together.
Even before hearing Max’s broadcast I had already decided that our best route was to make our way north to Nashville and pick up Interstate 40. I-40 was like the belt of the continental US, running coast to coast right through the middle of the country. As it got closer to the west coast it dipped down into New Mexico and Arizona and ran within about 150 miles of my home where I had a continuing hope that I would find Katie safe and sound and bored out of her mind.