Edmond, who had been turned away from them, staring off in the distance, suddenly animated. "I know we're running out of time before we have to meet up with the rest of the group, but there's one place we haven't checked. I saw a sign down the road that looked like it could be a grocery store."
Zach let out a big guffaw. "That's a good one, amigo!" he said, slapping his knee then giving Edmond a whack on the back that was a little harder than a friendly pat.
"Why leave a stone unturned. If there's even one can of food, a bottle of water, a dropped gun…"
"You're right," Mark said. "We've got a little time left. We should give it a look."
As Edmond triumphantly led them in the direction of the store, Zach kept to the rear of the group, but couldn't resist one last dig. "Your pansy ass better not be leading us into trouble, or I'm holding you accountable."
A few minutes later, they arrived at Lobos Mart. There was a kitschy sign in the parking lot with a red circle around it and smiling wolf's head in the middle. From the outside, the prospects of finding what they were looking for looked dim. There were fifteen to twenty abandoned cars, most with doors and back hatches wide open, slashed tires, and broken windows. There were also numerous bodies, and because they'd been baking in the hot sun for too long, they were far too gone to tell if they had been put down because they had turned into Eaters, or if O.N.E. had done in healthy specimens.
Jake, who'd been silent through most of their search, stepped up and gave an order. "Zach, why don't you check the cars for gas, and we'll go inside to look for supplies."
With a grunt, Zach complied as the rest of them headed towards the open doors.
Unlike the other buildings that were completely dark, there were a few flickering fluorescent lights on inside the store likely powered by a generator. It was a sign that someone had been holing up in the place, at least until somewhat recently.
Cheryl held her breath and covered her mouth with one hand while stepping through the doorway and heard Edmond let out an audible sigh of despair as he surveyed the chaos. No divine miracle had spared Lobos Mart from what had transpired in the parking lot and the rest of the town. Streaks and splatters of dried blood painted the white tiled floor in a mosaic worthy of a macabre art gallery. There were corpses strewn about like tossed refuge. Unlike the desiccated victims outside, some of these were fresher, still bloated and covered with flies—the obvious source of the top note of stink in the building.
Talking through his fingers that were covering his nose, Mark turned back to her and said, "Looks like some survivors were in here not that long ago."
"Yes," she said, thinking that even though they were now dead, it was marginally uplifting to know there had recently been pockets of people still hanging on in the area.
Then she realized that the shelves weren't completely barren. Though they had been nearly cleaned out, there were still some cans, boxes, and bottles here and there. After glancing up at the hanging sign above each aisle, Cheryl knew exactly which one she wanted to check out. After months of limited rations at Fort San Manuel and days spent living off of everything from smoked rattlesnake to squirrel meat, she rushed towards the baking aisle.
"Hey!" Edmond said, trotting behind her. "Where are you going?"
She glanced back, uncovering her mouth just long enough to give him a mischievous smile. Three seconds later, she found the jackpot. Amongst the few boxes of cake mixes, cooking oil, and flour, there were enough sugary treats to indulge the entire team.
Realizing that they had nothing to carry their goodies in, she asked Edmond to run up front and grab some of the tote bags she'd seen by the registers.
"Okay."
"By the way…" she said as he started to walk away.
"Thanks."
He smiled then took off, hopping over a body surrounded by sacks of sugar like it was simply a bump in the road.
While he was gone, she started making a pile in the middle of the floor: marshmallows, chocolate syrup, brownie mix, candy sprinkles, fruit filling, and the like. She was so mesmerized with her task, she forgot about the stench and used two hands to grab things and even dared stepping over a nasty mess of a corpse to reach a top shelf that had one container of vanilla frosting.
When Edmond returned, with the bags, he wasn't alone. Somehow…Aidan and his group had found them, and they were starting to load up on goods too. A few minutes later, Cheryl witnessed Zach and Diego tossing a coin over a bag of Doritos, instead of duking it out and Mark loading up on canned ham and tuna. Once everyone filled a couple of bags, they gathered outside the store where the air was better.
Jake, who'd only scrounged some beef jerky, Gatorade, and a few Power Bars was the first voice of rationality. "We can't carry all that stuff on the bikes."
With a mouth full of cookies, Aidan said, "Then, we'll have to eat what we can now."
"You know…" Zach said, letting the Twizzler dangle out of his mouth. "We could spend the night in Payson. Fill our bellies and move out again tomorrow night after dark."
"Anyone object?" Aidan asked.
There were a number of naysayers worried about the number of stinking dead bodies around the town who felt like it was bad karma to spend too much time amongst them, likening it to a big graveyard. But, they were finally seduced into the idea by the promise of a full belly and a good night's sleep. Jake was the last holdout, because he wanted to press on and not waste a night of travel time. He was eventually convinced once Mark laid into him.
"Where then?" Cheryl asked.
"How about there?" Zach pointed to a building detached from the rest of the strip mall. There was a red and blue sign on the front: Mesa Fitness.
"A gym?"
"Why not? It'll have enough space for us to stretch out and sleep."
"I'm game," Diego said, displaying a curled bicep with a fist.
That elicited a lot of eye rolls. No one wanted to spend the evening watching Zach and Diego try to one up each other with sets of dumbbells, so the gym was vetoed.
"There's a big house about three blocks from here," Aidan said. "We checked it out. It's been stripped like all the others, but there's enough space for us to stretch out, and it's built on a hill so we'd have a good view if anyone came."
"Sounds good," Cheryl said as the others nodded in agreement.
A few minutes later, most of them rumbled into the driveway of the house on their bikes. Not long after that, the rest of their group appeared with shopping carts full of the food and drink they'd hauled from the store.
At least from the outside appearance, Cheryl was pleased with the choice of lodging. The adobe house was two stories tall and had all of its windows intact. There was a large terra cotta sun medallion adorning the front wall between two upper windows, and a pretty assortment of perennial flowers in the bed out front that seemed to be thriving on neglect. Inside, the house was neat and tidy. It was like the family, an attractive gaggle of six from the looks of the photos on the walls, had just up and left. She wondered if they'd gone down to Fort San Manuel, thinking for just a moment how comforting it was to imagine they had made it. Then, she remembered that the fort had fallen—that was why she was here in these strangers' house.
When several people, including Kai and Edmond started looking through the kitchen cupboards, the Vultures who'd been to the house earlier told them not to bother because the cupboards were bare. They also said they'd already checked the garage and there were no cars in it.
"No matter," Jordan said, crunching on a piece of hard candy as he plopped into a chair. "It's all good."
A little while later when everyone crowded into the living room to eat and chat in small groups, Cheryl still had a burning thirst to know what had happened back at Lobos Mart. "Some of those bodies back at the store…the fresher ones…you think they were gunned down by O.N.E. when they came through here?"
"Probably," Mark said. "I think they were refugees that had holed up in here, defending their food supply."
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"There were no guns, so if they had any I assume the perpetrators took them, but…I wonder why they didn’t take the rest of the food."
"Maybe they were planning to come back for it.
"That's not going to help me sleep easier tonight."
"Sorry," she said. "I suppose I should just be thankful for my sugar rush instead of looking for the downside."
Aidan overheard their conversation and it prompted him to start a plan for an overnight guard rotation. Cheryl didn't volunteer this time. She was enjoying her total pig out on sweets and looking forward to a few hours of rest to sleep it off.
A while later, they were still eating and relaxing when the sound of grunting made them pop to attention and grab their guns. There was nervous laughter when they saw the source of the sounds on the far side of the living room.
It turned out that Zach and Diego didn’t need a mess of dumbbells to compete against each other. They'd decided on a friendly competition of calisthenics in the living room instead. It turned into a contest of pushups and sit ups. Then, Diego tried to show off by offering to bench press Cheryl, which made her choke on a marshmallow before she politely declined. Zach made a kissy face at Edmond who replied a little less politely that he had no intention of becoming a human barbell.
After a few more minutes of the exercise antics, Aidan spoke for the weary spectators. "Will you two just stop? There's no need to wear yourselves out like that."
"What else is there to do?" Zach whined, obviously reluctant to give up the sport.
"Why don't you just…oh I don't know…get some rest?"
"Uggh! We sat on our butts for too long at Jeremiah's."
That was it, Cheryl thought. Having gotten used to the go-go-go of survival, they were anxious to have a new challenge, something to keep their minds and bodies occupied. That was probably a big part of their artificially maintained rivalry. If they didn’t kill each other in the process, it served a purpose by keeping them sharp.
Later in the evening when they all separated to various parts of the house, Cheryl turned to Mark and said, "Something's strange."
"Hmmm…what's that?"
"We haven't seen a single Eater since we left Sabre."
"That's right. We haven't."
"What do you make of that?"
"Dunno. Guess we should just be thankful."
The off feeling she'd had back at Jeremiah's was back. Was it because she just didn't know what to make of a situation where she didn't have to fear for her life every second? Or, was it because they were headed into some new, uncharted territory where the game had changed. She nudged Mark to see if he was still listening. "We shouldn't let our guard down…"
He didn't hear her, because he was already snoring. There were others sawing logs around the house too. Many of the men passed out early, going into a food coma after their feast. She listened, wondering if everyone was asleep now, except for her. When Aidan and Deanna chose the room next to Mark and her, Cheryl winced, knowing it would be a long, uncomfortable night if she heard the two of them knocking boots, bumping against the wall between them. Thankfully, there were snores quickly sounding from that room as well.
In the morning, some were anxious to hit the road, but the majority of them agreed that it was safer to travel by night. Since none of the motorcycles had more than fumes left, it was decided that they should spend the day searching out to the further perimeters of the town to see if they could find some gas. Unfortunately, by late afternoon, all the groups returned empty handed once again. The mood was somber as despair settled over them like a dark cloak.
"We just have to take the bikes as far as we can get then…" Jake said.
Diego threw up his arms with a scowl. "And when we get stranded? What then? There's got to be something else for transportation around here. Hell…I'd rather ride a bicycle up to Utah than walk all the way. I'd rather kick up there on a scooter!"
Cheryl visualized the lot of them riding scooters and skateboards up the highway, kicking off fast with one foot and turning back every few seconds to fire at a horde of Eaters coming up behind them. It would never happen, but the image provided a brief moment of comic relief.
"No," Jake said. "We'd use up too many calories on bicycles, and it would be easier to hide quickly if we were on foot."
"He's right," Aidan agreed. We'll go as far as we can get then wing it from there.
The dissent was immediate.
"This is bullshit!" The old bearded Vulture said. "I say we stay here or we all go back to Jeremiah's."
"We don't have enough gas to get back there."
After a huddle, most of the Vultures decided they were staying put. They refused to leave because of the food supplies still left at Lobos Mart and their feeling that staying in Payson was safer than chancing any better place further north. Only Diego and one of the youngest men decided to venture on.
Aidan didn't argue with those who chose to remain. He simply wished those who were staying good luck and began packing his backpack, before giving instructions to the others. "Bring food and drinks, but keep it light; a heavy pack will weigh you down and use more gas."
When the sky grew dark, they gathered on the driveway.
Being as fond of his Harley-Davidson as if it was his child, Diego grumbled the most. "So, what do we do when the motorcycles start stalling? Leave each unlucky bastard behind?"
"No. We stick together no matter what. Once we start having downers and there's not enough gas left to share…we're not going to have any choice but to go on foot."
There was audible distress amongst them at the mere mention of abandoning their motorcycles, but it was tempered by the realization that without fuel, they were useless.
When the splattering of stars was in full view across the sky, they began to ride. Single file, they went, penetrating the darkness. As the cool spring wind caressed her face, there was only one thing for certain on Cheryl's mind: There be monsters in the land ahead.
She just didn't know if they'd be zombie or human.
Chapter 16
They were hoping to make it to the town of Pine or Strawberry with all motorcycles still running, but their luck ran out. Cheryl's motorcycle was the first to sputter and quit. That meant she and Mark were going to have to split up and hop on the back of one of the other bikes that had an open seat. When Diego offered her a ride, Mark declined the invite for her.
"I'll ride with him," he said. "Why don't you ride with Jake?"
"Okay," she said, feeling more comfortable about riding with Jake because he was Mark's friend and seemed more likely to be a gentleman.
Their riding arrangement didn't last long, though. They were only a few miles further down the road when more engines coughed on empty and petered out. Since there weren't enough open seats for everyone, the hard decision was made to abandon the bikes.
"Let's hide them in the brush," Aidan said, pointing to a copse of shrubs. We'll camouflage them…you know…just in case…"
No one had any optimism that they'd be back through this way in their lifetime, or that the world would revive and gas pumps would flow again, but they complied, because it seemed like a better thing to do than just leave the motorcycles by the side of the road.
And then, they began to walk.
The moon was high above them, lighting their way. They kept a few yards off to the side of the road where they could easily run behind the scrub and duck down if they heard any vehicles coming.
By the time they'd walked an hour, Cheryl didn't have high hopes for their success. Having lost their sails, they no longer looked like a confident group. Instead, this small, mismatched crew of ruffians, former military men, and civilians, hunched over as they walked, carrying their backpacks, sacks of food, and water, looking like a band of bedraggled refugees. And they all knew it was a long, long way to Provo…
After another couple hours of walking, Kai was the first to notice the high beams of headlights behind them. They ran away from th
e road and ducked down, remaining still and quiet as a caravan of trucks passed. Some of them were the familiar white trucks with the O.N.E. symbol on it and the others had open beds carrying men with automatic rifles. Whatever doubts there were about the group being an organized, militant outfit, vanished once they saw the troops up close.
Once the trucks passed, Jake said, "Maybe we need to stay further off the road."
Everyone agreed that had been too close of a call. So, they waded into the brush, risking tripping over rocks and twisting an ankle rather than being seen.
They hadn't gone more than another quarter mile when a new threat emerged.
At first, the silhouettes looked like a clump of tall cactus. Then, they rose up and spread out into gnarled forms, heads and limbs distinct, making guttural snarls and hissing sounds.
"I guess O.N.E. missed a few," Mark said as they all raised their guns.
Aidan held up a hand. "Wait…there's only three. Let's save bullets."
That seemed to be a cue to Diego and Zach. They both picked up football-sized rocks and move forward to confront the trio. After a couple of kicks to knock down the Eaters down, the men got to work, smashing their heads in like they were in a carnival strongman game.
Zach finished off his monster first and rushed to put down the third, a female zombie with a tattered dress and long hair that was matted with blood.
"Look!" Cheryl said, pointing to the square shape on the side of her head. "She's got the box."
After she was put down, Aidan said, "Maybe it was no accident they were out here. We could be getting close to a O.N.E. camp."
Jake shielded his eyes, looked ahead as if he was peering at something in the distance. "If we are…we don't want to let them see us first. We need to stay quiet and in the shadows. No shooting if we can avoid it."
They hiked for another hour, skirting around a few seemingly abandoned farmhouses, before deciding to rest underneath the branches of some oak trees. They'd only been kicked back for a few minutes when Cheryl felt something tickle her hand, causing her to hop up and scream louder than she'd intended while trying to flick the object off.
Eaters (Book 2): The Resistance Page 20