“What’s up?’ Walt looked up and asked.
“I’m not sure. A woman with a bloody head came running down the street being chased by a man with a frying pan. According to Nate, the guy was smiling.” She told him, putting the pistol in the holster and looking for the magazine pouch.
“What? We really need to hurry it up. Once we get out of St. Louis we should be a little safer. “Walt said stuffing ammo into a military duffel bag.
Lexi finished packing, leaving most of her girly clothes behind and opting for jeans, t-shirts and the like, terrified at the thought of leaving and equally terrified at the thought of staying. She wanted her pistol and AR-15 in a bad way. She’d been shooting most of her life and felt at home on the firing range and hunting in the woods. When she heard Nate scream, she dropped everything and ran to help her brother.
Rodney
Cleveland, TN
Rodney Barry had lived a shitty life, up to this point. The product of a barely adolescent girl from a dirt-poor home and a one-time encounter with an older guy who’d offered her twenty dollars for a roll in the hay. The young girl had never had that kind of money before and figured she could deal with letting this man have her for a short time. It wasn’t like she was a virgin anyway, giving up her innocence to Ray Littlefield, her third cousin, during a picnic the year before. When Rodney was younger, he’d asked his mother about who his father was. She smirked and answered, “Andrew Jackson”. He’d never asked again.
Rodney was very much like his mother, getting into trouble at the ripe old age of ten, when he strong-armed a younger kid out of two dollars and half a pack of bubble gum at school one day. That act had gotten his butt spanked twice; once from a no-nonsense principal who seemed to garner great pleasure from bouncing the wooden paddle off of young boys’ bums, and an even worse one from his mother for getting caught.
Rodney wasn’t big in stature, in fact he was lankier than normal, and he always wore work uniforms with a name other than his on the tag above the shirt pocket. There was no reason for it, he was never one to work for more than a week at a stretch before he’d piss the boss off and get fired. He chuckled when he considered that. He didn’t have much in the way of an education, having dropped out of school in sixth grade and his teachers felt he was lucky to have gotten that far. He lacked any sort of drive or ambition; good enough for me was his mantra.
The world looked at Rodney like he was a major misfit. That wasn’t how he saw himself, though. Despite having almost no friends, he’d convinced himself that it was because of his own choosing. When he looked in the mirror, he saw someone who was highly attractive. He thought of himself as funny and smart. Even though he did date, occasionally, it usually cost him twenty bucks and he had to hope the woman wasn’t a cop. He felt his working man’s attire was a way to put people at ease around him. If one looked closely one would see that his hands were anything but calloused because he refused to work a job that required breaking a sweat.
His favorite work often involved a little b&e, breaking and entering, into the homes of the elderly. He didn’t think of it as burglary, after all, he was saving the elderly victim’s family a lot of long term grief after fighting over the valuables of the dearly departed. No, what Rodney was doing was salvaging. He was taking what he thought the old people had no use for and putting it to better use.
He was halfway into the home of an elderly woman, who had been picked up by someone and driven away. He had watched the house for a month and learned that the old woman went every Wednesday for a period of three hours and figured that was the best time to break in. What he hadn’t counted on was a cop on routine patrol picking that moment to drive by. He didn’t even know the cop was there until something latched on to his ankles as he was climbing the fence and drug him to the ground.
Rodney’s first instinct had been to fight back, until he saw the badge. He knew better than to make a simple burglary charge into felonious assault on a police officer. The cop quickly cuffed him and stood him up.
“Well if it ain’t Hot Rod Barry.” The cop smirked, “Are you gonna tell me something stupid like you were looking for your lost cat or are you gonna tell me the truth?” he asked and Rodney shrugged.
“No, it was what it looked like Officer Taylor. I was breaking and entering.” Rodney admitted. He hated the nickname Hot Rod, though. The cops in the area started calling him that after he’d attempted to enter a house once through the chimney and gotten stuck.
“The judge gave you probation last time. Are you still on it?” the cop asked, leading Rodney towards the patrol car.
“No, sir. Probation was over four months ago.” Rodney answered, thinking that the cop was right, he’d probably get a couple of years for this one. The cop searched him and finding no weapons or anything illegal placed him in the back of the car and reached for the mic on his collar.
“Four twenty-three.” He released the push-to-talk switch and waited for a few seconds. Oddly, he didn’t get a reply, so he tried it again.
“Four twenty-three with a 10-62, suspect in custody.” He again released the switch and waited, and heard nothing. “What in the world is going on?” Officer Taylor mumbled to himself, figuring there was something wrong with his radio. He got into the car and flipped the key over to the start position. Nothing.
“What the hell?” Taylor said and tried the car’s radio. Nothing. That was when he noticed the traffic, or lack of. He pulled out his cell phone and saw that it was dead too.
“What’s going on?” Rodney asked.
“I’m not really sure, but apparently, this is your lucky day. Nothing electrical seems to be working, not even cars. Looks like we’ve either had a solar flare or an EMP, either way, I’m going to have to let you go because I have no way to transport you and I think we might have bigger problems to worry about.” Officer Taylor let Rodney out of the backseat and freed him from the handcuffs.
“Thanks, Officer Taylor.”
“Don’t thank me yet. If this thing gets straightened out fairly quick, I’ll come get you and book you. If not, I’d think long and hard before I broke into anyone else’s house. No cars means we can’t get to you, and if you break into the wrong house, you might just get shot for your trouble. If we can’t get there, neither than the ambulances.” Taylor informed him.
“Alright, Officer Taylor. Guess I’ll be headed home.” Rodney said and left Taylor standing by his car. The little tidbit of information about cops not being able to get to the scene of a crime brightened his day immensely. He felt like someone had given him a gift and he couldn’t wait to open it. His mind was a whirlwind of ideas of new crimes that he could pull off without fear of arrest. Absolutely giddy with excitement, Rodney Barry stepped onto the street and headed into the downtown area wondering which long dreamt after crime was now going to happen. For the first time in ages, he smiled a real smile.
Julie
Chattanooga, TN
Julie turned quickly and brought the rifle to bear on the target behind her. A very large black man in old style woodland cammo suddenly raised his hands in surrender, his right one holding a shotgun.
“Whoa there, miss! I thought you was one of them. Are you National Guard?” he asked. Julie looked at the imposing figure in front of her. The man was easily six foot seven and a solid three hundred pounds of muscle. It almost made her chuckle at her five-foot tree inch stature.
“Maybe. Who are you and what do you want?” She asked, keeping the rifle trained on him.
“Nothing, miss. I thought you was one of them. If you were, I was going to take care of you. But since you aren’t, I guess I’ll be getting back to my house.” The man said.
“One of who?” she asked and he nodded toward the crowd tearing up everything in sight down the road.
“I’d like to talk to you more, but it ain’t safe out here. Can we go back to my house? It’s safer than out here, plus my wife and kid is home alone.” He asked, still not moving. Julie lowered her rifle
and stood up.
“Sure, let’s go.” She said and they followed the man around the house they’d been in front of and in through a back exit. Once they were in, he quickly moved a large china hutch back in front of the door. He turned to them and smiled.
“My name’s Hank. Hank Simmons. That there is my wife, Tonya, and the little guy is our son; Darius.” He stuck a huge mitt out, which Julie took.
“I’m Julie and this is my friend, Donna. We work at Memorial. Or did until we walked off. Now we’re just trying to get home.” Julie said.
“I cannot believe you’d bring white folk into our house with all this racist bullshit going on down the street.” Tonya said, collecting Darius.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. It wasn’t his fault. We were stuck out there with a crowd of crazies in front of us.” Julie explained.
“They crazy, alright. Tearing up shit for nothin’. We ain’t the bad guys, we black, same as them.” Tonya huffed.
“From what I can see, this ain’t about race.” Hank said, “They’s all kinda people there. Black, white, Mexican. It’s like they’re on something.” Hank said, “You two ladies don’t look exactly like military either.”
“We’re not. We’re just CNA’s trying to make our way home.” Julie explained.
“Where’s home?” Hank asked.
“Bradley County for me, she’s from Polk County.” Julie explained.
“You ain’t military, yet you move like you are.” Hank observed.
“Yeah, my husband was a Marine Corpsman. He taught us everything.” Julie said and Tonya rolled her eyes.
“That’s great. Another prepper. That’s just what I need in my house. And you said Corpsman?” she argued.
“That’s great. I was with 1/5 for two tours in Iraq. Semper fi.” He grinned.
“So what the hell is going on?” Julie asked.
“A couple of days ago, people in the hood started getting sick. News wasn’t covering it, but they’d get a fever and either die or go into an almost coma like state, then wake up and be aggressive. It’s not they’re zombies, they don’t just attack the living. It’s like they’re fucking crazy. I saw one guy earlier today bite at a mailbox until his teeth broke. It’s like they don’t know who or what they are.” He explained.
“Zombies? Now you sound like my husband. He’s waiting for what he calls the zompoc, zombie apocalypse.” Julie said.
“So is Hank. Maybe our husbands should get together.” Tonya smiled.
“So, how did you get away from the hospital?” Hank asked.
“We figured the tunnel would be all kinds of dangerous. Brad, my husband, printed us off these USGS maps and we went over the hill. Seemed safer.” Julie explained.
“Yeah, and we had these night vision goggles that helped a lot.” Donna said.
“Yeah, I walked up the road earlier and took a peek. Seems there’s about twenty of them in there.” Hank said, “So now you’ve got to get to Cleveland?”
“That’s about the size of it. We figure three days walking, if we’re lucky.” Donna said.
“Okay, I see you’ve both got AR’s and side arms, as well as a machete and a knife I don’t recognize.” Hank said.
“It’s a bolo knife from the Philippines that my husband used in the jungle about a hundred years ago. He says it’s made from a Jeep rim and cuts through bamboo like it’s not even there. Not sure about that, but I’ve hacked through saplings the same way.” Julie said.
“I’ve heard of those. Before my time though.” Hank said, “You’ve both got K-bars too. Nice. You ladies look Corps to the end.” He smiled.
“Really, because we don’t feel it.” Donna smiled.
“And you’re going to walk the whole way?” Tonya asked.
“Yeah, not much choice, since the EMP’s. Now we’ve got this weird shit to deal with too.” Julie said.
“Well, maybe Hank can take you in the car. At least for a little way.” Tonya offered.
“Thanks, but you need him here. We’ll be fine.” Donna answered.
“I don’t think you will. Two white women in a very black neighborhood, with crazy folk out there. I don’t care if you do have guns. You won’t make it.” Tonya replied, “Take the ride. Please.” She pleaded.
“Seriously. I don’t mind because those guys will follow us. That way they’ll be gone when I get back. I kill two birds with one stone.” Hank said.
“The cars are all dead.” Donna reminded him, and he smiled.
“I’ve got a ’64 Impala I take to car shows. It doesn’t have all the electronic shit to get fried by the EMP. It’ll run.” Hank said, “I can at least get you to Shallowford and the interstate.”
Julie thought about it and sighed. “Do you have any idea of the risk?”
“Oh, honey, it’s no worse than having two white chicks in a Black Lives Matter neighborhood during the end of the world. Trust me.” Tonya chuckled.
Julie helped Hank take the cover off the Impala and whistled lowly.
“Damn, it looks brand new.” She said and Hank smiled.
“I restored it. I use it in car shows, so every nut and bolt has to be authentic.” He grinned as he showed off his baby. Julie shook her head in amazement.
“Is it loud?” Donna asked and Hank chuckled.
“No louder than when it rolled out of the show room. Like I said, those judges are very tough. I’ve taken first place in several shows.” He proudly said.
When the car started Julie was impressed. It was pretty quiet. Hank backed it out of the driveway with experienced ease and quickly had the car pointed in the right direction.
“Hold on to your shit, ladies; this could get real.” He smiled as he floored the accelerator, attempting to gain some speed to force his way through the crowd. The crowd looked up all at once and began running towards the car. Hank increased the speed and plowed through them like they weren’t even there. He looked up in the mirror, smiled and stopped.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Julie asked.
“Just letting them catch up some so that they’ll follow us. It’s the only way I can get back.” He explained, his eyes never leaving the rearview mirror. He suddenly gave the big car some gas and got it moving, eyes constantly watching the growing crowd behind him to make sure that none were getting too close. Julie had clutched the rifle so tight that her hand cramped and had to let go and wipe the sweat from her hand. Glancing back through the rear window, she saw the crazies chasing after them some twenty yards behind. She was mesmerized until something thumped hard off of her door. Turning, she saw one of them, as she now thought of them, fall to the street and tumble. Hank laughed.
“Sorry, I thought you saw that one. Did you see the way that asshole bounced? I’m telling you, these cars are tough.” He grinned and looked at her. She shook her head and found herself grinning too. As they passed a Walmart Quick Stop a crowd that had been ravaging the place, suddenly heard either them or the herd behind them and joined in the chase. Julie glanced at Hank, who seemed to be enjoying himself. He slowed down a little and laid on the horn to get more attention.
“This is the most fun I’ve had in a very long time. I get to run fuckers over!” He grinned, “And it doesn’t count in church because these bastards ain’t human.”
“Should I start shooting them?” Julie asked and he chuckled.
“Oh, Hell no. Save your ammo as long as you can. You’re gonna need it.” He grinned at her again. He sped past the Airport Road turn and plowed straight ahead.
“Are you sure you’re going to make it home?” Julie asked.
“Pretty sure. It looks like all the assholes in the world are following us. If that’s the case, I’ll speed up for the last mile or so, then you two need to get out and move the hell away from me. Stick to the woods. It looks like these things are attracted by shiny stuff.” Hank said. The car hit a hump in the road right before some railroad tracks just before they got to what was once the BI-LO grocery warehouse and bottomed out o
n the other side, causing Hank to chuckle.
“I never remember that bump.” He grinned and Julie knew better. More and more crazies joined the makeshift parade, which now numbered into the hundreds. As they crossed Lee highway hank gave the beast a lot more throttle, zooming past the small strip malls that dotted the road leading up to Hamilton Place Mall. He hung a hard left onto Jenkins Road, taking them near Standifer Place Nursing Home, where Julie had worked, once upon a time, and put some distance between the car and it’s pursuers before slamming on the brakes.
“This is you. Been a pleasure, ladies. I hope you make it home. Stay in the woods and use every trick your husbands taught you.” He grinned as Julie gave him a quick hug and rolled out of the door, followed immediately by Donna, who slammed the door. Hank wasted no time and took off down the road.
Julie and Donna quickly found the hedges of a dental office and ducked out of sight behind them to regroup. After waiting a few minutes to make sure that none of the infected were around Julie grabbed the maps from her cargo pocket and her red lensed flashlight.
“You know we’re going to have to go past Silverdale?” Donna asked, reminding Julie of the privately ran jail, and Julie nodded.
“If we work out way a little further south, we can come up on the U.S. Express truck building, stick to the fence line and into the woods again. The hard part is going to be White Oak Mountain. It would be oh-so much easier on the Interstate, but I’m thinking that between those stranded, if there are any, and the crazies, that would be a really bad idea. So, stick to the woods, take our time and make as little noise as possible.” Julie said and Donna nodded in agreement. A noise, much like someone had scored the winning pass in a football game, came from the area near Hamilton Place Mall, the largest mall in Chattanooga, less than a quarter of a mile away. Then one single high pitched female scream broke through the din for a few seconds and then suddenly went silent.
Three Days From Home Page 4