This is the End 3: The Post-Apocalyptic Box Set (8 Book Collection)

by J. Thorn

  Rachel stared back at me and I could see in her eyes that she didn’t know what to say to that.

  “Maybe we should go back to the westerly route and find a way around the lake,” I suggested.

  She was thoughtful for a moment then nodded her head slowly as if in partial agreement. “We don’t seem to have much choice. The last thing I want is to run into that crowd, or any others for that matter.”

  The street we were on ran roughly southwest to northeast, and if I was looking at the correct street on the map it continued to curve north of us until it was an eastbound road. Assuming the crowd- herd??- followed the path of least resistance the road would take them away from our immediate direction of travel. Not far enough that I was comfortable going due north, but it looked like we could make our way northwest then over the 575.

  After getting across the interstate I decided we would take the route around the north end of the lake. That way looked much less populated and I was nervous about getting cornered and overwhelmed by a mass of infected.

  Rachel leaned back on the couch, breathed deeply then let out a long, slow sigh. “How long can this last?” She asked.

  I looked away from the map, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, how long can this last? The infected people. Humans can’t go long without water. A couple of weeks maybe without food, but no more than three days without water when they’re out there wandering around all day in the heat.”

  “They’re probably drinking and eating, but I can’t imagine what they’re eating. Well, at least the males. They don’t seem coordinated enough to scavenge for food. The females seem quite capable.”

  Rachel continued to stare straight ahead at a dark plasma TV screen. “I’m trying to wrap my head around this. I can certainly understand bio toxins, even bacterial or viral infections that would cause hyper-aggression, but any I’m aware of burn the host out in a few hours to a day. There’s not any sign so far of that happening here.”

  “That you’re aware of.”

  Rachel looked at me and smiled a sad smile, “What I mean is, you’d think there was hope that the infected people would have already started dying off. But we’ve not seen any sign of that. The scary thought here is that everyone that is infected – and I’m not sure that’s an entirely accurate term – is finding water and food and will continue to remain a threat to the rest of us.

  “I’m also confused about the crowd or herd behavior we just saw. That’s not consistent with any disease or toxin I can think of that would cause the aggressive behavior. These people should be just as aggressive towards each other as they are towards us.” She turned her head and looked me in the eye.

  “I understand what you’re saying, but does it matter?”

  “It does if we can find a way to counteract their aggression towards us.”

  “You have an idea?”

  Rachel let out a short, sardonic laugh, “Yeah. I’m a fourth year med student paying the bills by shaking my tits and ass in men’s faces. If I was a seasoned researcher with a lab and the right equipment then maybe…”

  I thought about what she said, but couldn’t think of anything to say in response. After a bit I headed to the kitchen to make us some food before we got back on the road.

  18

  The truck started easily on the first try, the diesel engine loud in the closed garage. All our gear and Dog was already loaded in the back seat and Rachel was behind the wheel ready to go when I raised the garage door. Moments later we were out of the garage, out of the driveway and headed southwest on the street in front of the house.

  I intended to go south a short distance then start working our way northwest through the neighborhoods. My hope was to completely avoid the herd that had passed in front of the house. A block south I made a right, keeping the speed down which also kept the volume of the engine down. I had fallen in love with the big Ford truck, but at times I wished for a nice, quiet gasoline engine.

  We slowly made it through the surrounding neighborhoods, turning off to keep heading in a generally northwest direction. By now my memorization of the map had failed and Rachel was navigating for me with the map spread out on her lap. Dog was sitting on the rear floor with his head resting on the center console between us, appearing to be alertly watching the road ahead of us.

  We passed through neighborhood after neighborhood with no sign of any life, survivor or infected. There was also no sign of any animal life other than birds. Ghost town came to mind as we passed house after house that was dark and silent. I idly wondered if any of them held survivors like Rachel and me.

  We turned onto a narrower street that was completely shaded by a long row of oaks and elms and I hit the brakes when three figures walked into the road a few houses in front of us. In the deep shade of the tree cover I couldn’t tell if they were infected or not, but they seemed to move with a degree of coordination that the infected could not achieve.

  None of the three were armed, nor did they make any aggressive or threatening moves. They just stood in the road a hundred yards in front of us. I scanned the houses up and down the street looking for anything out of place that would indicate an impending ambush, but everything looked as normal as it could under the circumstances.

  “What do you think?” I asked Rachel while continuing to scan the street and houses. “Go around, or go see what they want?”

  Rachel consulted the map before answering, “To go around we have to back track almost a mile then follow a frontage road along the 575. I don’t think that’s a good option.”

  OK, then. Forward, I decided. Before stepping on the throttle I laid the 12 gauge across my lap, rested the pistol grip on the console in front of Dog’s nose and clicked the safety to the ‘fire’ position. Slowly feeding throttle I accelerated to ten MPH and rolled down the street towards the figures.

  At fifty yards I could tell these were kids. At twenty yards I could tell they weren’t infected as they were nervously shuffling their feet and looking around like they were afraid of being attacked. At ten yards I braked to a halt and could tell they were actually teenagers, a boy and two girls. The boy was overweight with an acne ravaged face and long greasy hair that hung into his eyes. The two girls were painfully thin, both dressed in black with hair dyed the color of black shoe polish. One of them had piercings in her nose, lip, eyebrow and the full perimeter of each ear. The other had no piercings other than a large jewel glinting on her right cheek.

  “Well, looks like the Addams Family survived,” I said.

  Rachel looked at me like I was nuts, then tried to suppress a grin.

  Rolling my window down I motioned them to my side of the truck and put my hand on the shotgun’s pistol grip, finger alongside the trigger guard. They exchanged glances then the girl with the single jewel in her cheek approached, the other two moving closer together in the middle of the road.

  “Hi,” I said when she stopped a few feet from my window.

  She looked back at me, and the eyes looked too intelligent for the outfit. Oh well. I’ve certainly got no business judging anyone.

  “Hi,” She said.

  “What are you doing out here?” Rachel raised her voice and asked.

  “We thought you were our parents,” She said. “My dad has a truck that sounds just like this and when we heard it we thought you were them.”

  “When’s the last time you saw your parents?” I asked.

  She thought about that for a minute before answering, “Two days ago. The news on the TV was scary and they went out to the store to get supplies. Then the phones and TV stopped working and they haven’t come home.”

  I let out a sigh. How do you tell a kid that her parents were probably either infected or had been killed by infected? I looked to Rachel for help, but she just shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. I turned back to the girl I had mentally labeled as Jewell.

  “The news isn’t good. Thousands of people have been infected and they’re attacking anyone that�
�s not infected. Your parents may not be able to make it home anytime soon.” It was the best I could come up with.

  “We’ve seen the infected,” She said. “I killed two of them that attacked my brother in the back yard.”

  Rachel put her hand on my arm and I turned my head slightly towards her. Not so far that I couldn’t still see Jewell and her siblings, but far enough to hear her low whisper.

  “Should we take them with us?”

  I thought about that for a minute before turning fully back to the open window.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Gwen, and that’s Stacy and Kevin.” She motioned to the two kids in front of us I’d dubbed McFly and Morticia. When she moved her arm her jacket flapped and I could see the butt of a 1911 .45 pistol in her waistband. She reached for the jacket, but her hand was too close to the pistol for comfort.

  “Don’t touch that pistol, Gwen. I’m a nice enough guy, but you don’t want to try anything foolish.”

  She blushed, but held my gaze. “I’m not going to try anything. I just didn’t want you to see it and get the wrong idea.”

  “OK,” I answered, making up my mind about Rachel’s whispered question. “We’re heading west, getting away from Atlanta. We have room, and we have food and water if you three want to come with us.”

  Gwen stood quiet, as if sizing us up. I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. I thought she was going to say yes.

  “Fuck no, Gwen. No way. We wait right here just like Mom and Dad told us to. They’ll be back.”

  This was Kevin, and I was reminded how much better kids hearing is than mine. I was struggling to hear Gwen over the idle of the truck, and he’d heard me almost thirty feet away with the clattering engine between us.

  Gwen’s eyes shut down and she looked over at her brother and sister before turning back to me, “We’ll stay here. Our parents will be home soon.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? We saw a herd of thousands of infected move through a neighborhood just to the east early this morning.”

  She nodded, but didn’t say anything else.

  “Do you need anything?” Rachel called out. “Food, water… anything?”

  Gwen stole another glance at her siblings then turned back to us with a glint of hope in her eye. “Food. We haven’t eaten in two days. That’s OK for Kevin, but Stacy and I need to eat.”

  “Hey fuck you, Gwen.” Kevin shouted, raising both middle fingers to give her the double bird. Even during the apocalypse siblings will fight with each other.

  “OK, Gwen. Step back in front of the truck. I’m going to get out and unload some food for you. Now before I do that, remember what I said about not doing anything foolish.”

  I looked at her, hoping she had enough life experience to understand the message I was sending. Kids or not, if any of them drew a weapon I wouldn’t hesitate. A kid with a gun can kill you just as fast and just as dead as a trained soldier.

  She nodded her head and moved back in front of the truck. I shifted the transmission into park and handed the shotgun to Rachel. “Safety is off and there’s a round in the chamber. Open your door and stand on the running board. If any of them pulls a gun while I’m unloading some food, you shoot them. Understand?”

  Rachel stared at the shotgun in her hands like she didn’t understand why she was holding it.

  “Understand?” I asked, hardening my voice into a deep growl.

  Rachel snapped out of it and after checking to make sure the area was clear opened her door and stepped out onto the running board, shotgun held at the ready. The three kids stepped back when they saw the shotgun, but Rachel called out to them, “I’m just making sure we’re ready if any infected show up. Stay right there and we’ll get some food out for you.”

  The kids were calmed by a woman’s voice and stopped moving away. I did a check of the area and stepped out and opened the back door of the truck. Dog hopped out and trotted to the closest tree while I gathered half of the canned and boxed food we had taken from the house we’d spent the night in.

  The food was in a bunch of plastic grocery bags we’d found under the kitchen sink, and I quickly had two heavy bundles swinging from my hands. I walked a few feet in front of the truck and sat the bags on the ground. All three kids had their eyes glued to the food.

  I let out a deep sigh and glanced back at Rachel. As if knowing what was on my mind she gave me a quick nod then turned her attention back to keeping watch on the kids as well as looking for approaching infected.

  “Do you guys want to come with us?” I asked. “It’s pretty bad out there and- well, your parents- I’m just saying you might be safer with us. We could leave a note at your house for your folks.”

  All three started shaking their heads and Gwen spoke up, “No. We’ll wait. They’ll be home soon. Thanks for the food.”

  I nodded my head and returned to the truck cab, closing the back door after Dog hopped in and resumed his spot. I got in and closed my door, Rachel doing the same on her side after making sure the shotgun was on safe.

  As soon as we were back in the truck Gwen dashed forward and grabbed the grocery bags, then all three ran to the open door of a small white house. They disappeared inside and the door closed. I sat there for a minute looking at the house and was glad to see that they had done a good job of covering windows from the inside. The house looked empty. As long as they were careful and quiet maybe the infected wouldn’t find them.

  “Think they’ll make it?” Rachel asked quietly.

  I shook my head, then answered when I realized she was looking at the house and not me, “For a while. Until the food runs out, or they run out of water and have to go out and scavenge.”

  “We shouldn’t leave them,” She said, a note of distress in her voice.

  “Unless we force them, they’re not going to come with us.” I put the big truck in gear and slowly accelerated down the street.

  We kept heading northwest, finally coming to the road that led to the overpass that would hopefully get us safely over the 575. It was a narrow four lane road with a center turn lane. The road was lined with small businesses- mainly fast food joints, liquor stores, convenience stores and auto repair shops.

  As we approached the 575 the number of abandoned vehicles increased and we were frequently forced to steer through parking lots to get around. More and more infected were also present, the shambling males that tried to catch us and the much swifter females that sprinted at us. More than one female bounced off the side or front of the truck, but I kept the speed up enough that they were unable to hold on for a ride.

  We finally made it onto the overpass with a respectable sized herd following. Despite their presence I braked to a halt at the apex of the bridge, maneuvering the truck close enough to the guard rail to allow us a good view of the 575.

  Both directions of the interstate were hopelessly jammed with cars. Some had apparently been involved in accidents and abandoned by their owners, but most were just stuck in gridlock and were now sitting empty. Flowing through the maze of steel and glass were thousands of infected, looking like a river flowing through rocks.

  We were noticed immediately as we sat there idling, infected from every direction turning to make their way towards us. Several females, apparently frustrated with the pace, leapt up onto car hoods and roofs and raced towards us using the stalled vehicles like stepping stones. In my mirror I could see the leading edge of the herd following us and decided we’d sat in one place long enough.

  The road we were on ran west for a bit through sparsely populated countryside, then swung to the north and we began to see more homes and businesses. Along with more buildings came more infected. We pushed on and I raised our speed slightly, eager to move beyond Atlanta’s sprawl and out into the country. My hope was that the farther we moved away from the city the less infected we would encounter.

  As we continued, this seemed to be the case. The road swung to the northwest and other than a road that ran t
o the south with a sign for a marina there was nothing but the blacktop cutting through forest. The road was smooth and well maintained with wide, grassy shoulders and the terrain began rolling as we drove.

  Relaxing slightly I asked Rachel to double check her map for our next turn and pushed our speed up close to sixty. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly as the afternoon wore on and for the first time since arriving in Atlanta my spirits started to lift. We drove through a series of dips in the road as we gained altitude, then climbed the biggest hill yet. Cresting the rise it took me a moment to realize what I was seeing and another to react and jam on the brakes.

  The tires screamed in protest and left smoking black marks on the pavement as I held the brakes down, finally stopping but not before we plowed into the back of a herd of infected so large that we couldn’t see the far edge.

  19

  “Oh, shit,” I heard Rachel say under her breath as thousands of heads snapped around in our direction and hands started beating on the truck. I could only see males around us, and for as clumsy and slow as they are they were quickly surrounding us and pressing in. We would rapidly be enveloped in such a large mass and I was afraid the truck wouldn’t be able to move.

  Throwing the truck in reverse I stomped on the throttle and the big diesel roared as we surged backwards. We had slid a few feet into the herd when we stopped and I kept the throttle down and crashed through and over bodies until we reached clear pavement. With thirty yards of open space now in front of us I spun the wheel and turned us sideways in the road, stopping with the back bumper against the berm that rose up from the edge of the shoulder and grabbed the gear selector to put the truck in drive.

  I tugged, but the lever didn’t move. Staring dumbly at the little red needle that indicated the gear I pulled harder with no luck. I hammered the lever with the palm of my hand trying to move it to P or D, I didn’t care which, but it wasn’t budging. The truck was stuck in reverse and we were backed up against a berm of rocky soil. Didn’t look like the truck was going anywhere.