Dead, But Not For Long (Book 2): Pestilence and Promise

by Kinney, Matthew

  “You might not want to be walking around town,” the driver said. “If someone mistakes you for one of the dead, they might shoot first and ask questions later. We’d be happy to give you a ride to the edge of town if you’re going that way.”

  “We’d appreciate it,” Dan said. They were taken to the western edge of the city, where Dan thanked them as they parted ways. He waited until the truck was out of sight before turning toward George.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Hixson started.

  “Oh, no.”

  “I think we have a good opportunity to throw off our searchers.”

  “I’m listening,” George said warily.

  “I’m pretty sure those choppers were looking for us back near Oxnard. I’d bet money on that. Several people just now saw us walking west.”

  “I saw a lot of curtains open and people peeking out,” George admitted.

  “And the guys in the truck who gave us the ride know we were heading west, so maybe we’d be safe to go east. I wouldn’t want to risk being on those open desert roads near Barstow and Las Vegas unless we’re pretty sure they’ll be looking the other way.”

  “You think east is better than west?” George asked.

  “I don’t know. I just know that they’re going to be looking for us heading west now.”

  “Does that mean backtracking?”

  “We’ll take a more northern route, through Fillmore, then we’ll head toward Barstow.”

  They circled back around the city toward the east and were fortunate to find a four-wheel drive truck with all the extras.

  “Wow, look at that,” Rayburn said. “It’s even got an extra seat.”

  The bed of the truck was filled with boxes and garbage bags, which led Dan to believe that the owner had packed up and tried to move out. The blood on the inside of the door and on the side of the truck indicated that it hadn’t ended well for him or her.

  After checking the bags and boxes, George said, “Mostly food, clothes and some personal stuff. I kind of feel funny taking the truck, but I guess the owners aren’t coming back.”

  “No, they’re not,” Dan said.

  The rest of the day was spent in a circuitous eastward trek as they did their best to avoid the most populated areas. By the time night fell, they were close to Victorville.

  The sound of the tires crossing the rumble strip brought Dan’s head up quickly, and he swerved to avoid a car that was stopped in the middle of his lane.

  “What happened?” Rayburn asked, looking around in a daze.

  “I nodded off,” Hixson admitted, rubbing a hand over his face. “We need to find a place to get some sleep. I’m exhausted.”

  He took a turn-off that was little more than a dirt road, and he found a spot where the truck couldn’t be easily seen from the highway. He hoped that it wouldn’t be too obvious from the air, either, but it was hard to tell in the dark. Shutting off the engine, he leaned his seat back as far as it would go. By that time, Rayburn was already snoring. Hixson closed his eyes and listened to the ticking of the engine as it began to cool down. Every muscle in his body ached, and he hoped that they wouldn’t be walking so much the next day. For a moment, he was worried that he wasn’t going to be able to sleep since his adrenaline was still high from the near collision, but within minutes he was out.

  ~*~

  St. Mary’s Hospital, Lansing

  Lindsey was on her way into the cafeteria as Jack was walking out, and he stopped to tell her that he’d put some newcomers into one of the vacant rooms. She made a note of it and thanked him for letting her know. Before she could continue into the cafeteria, Snake joined them, trailed by a visibly perturbed woman and a crying child.

  Lindsey recognized the woman and child as recent newcomers.

  “Jack,” Snake said, looking frazzled, “we have some sort of an issue here.”

  He motioned toward the woman, who was muttering something under her breath.

  “Ma’am,” Snake said to the woman, “this is Jack. He’s head of security. He’ll be glad to address your concerns.”

  While the woman turned to quiet her son, Jack silently mouthed a sarcastic thank you to Snake, who grinned as he made his getaway.

  “What can I help you with?” Jack asked.

  “You’re head of security?” she asked with a tone of pure disdain. “So I can thank you for that asinine rule.”

  “And what rule might we be talking about?” Jack asked, trying to keep his pleasant disposition.

  “The rule that children aren’t allowed to have handheld game systems. My son got that game from his grandmother, whom, I might add, is no longer with us. I’m sorry that some of the other kids don’t have games, but that belongs to my son, and I want it back.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Who took your son’s game?”

  “Your security guard,” the woman said. “The fat one. He said that all electronics have to be confiscated and kept in the game room. I think that’s ridiculous, especially after everything that these children have been through.”

  The child started to cry even louder, and his mother turned once more to comfort him.

  Jack pulled Lindsey aside. “Would you please explain to this woman about our ethically challenged security officer while Eric and I discuss his job performance?”

  “Gladly,” Lindsey said. While Jack left the room to search for Eric, Lindsey assured the woman and her child that Eric had acted on his own and that they would get the boy’s game back.

  Once the crisis was resolved, Lindsey got her food and stood with her tray, looking around for a table.

  Wombat waved at her from the corner of the cafeteria, finally catching her eye. She smiled and walked over to join him, Hawk and Dumbo.

  Hawk was telling Dumbo a story about something that had happened to Wombat on the job, years earlier. When he was done, Lindsey asked, “How long did the two of you work together?”

  “Since he was a mere lad,” Hawk said.

  “I was in my early twenties when I met Hawk and Snake,” Wombat said. “They saved my life.”

  “I think it’s been around eight or nine years,” Hawk added, looking down into his glass of water.

  “How did you meet?” Lindsey asked.

  “I was living in a truck,” Wombat said. “I worked part-time, washing dishes at a diner. Every penny I made pretty much went into booze, pot or other drugs. I was lucky I didn’t get fired because I was usually drunk or stoned all the time. Snake, Hawk, and a bunch of the guys came in one day. They parked out back where my truck was. I walked out there on my break and tried to sneak a drink, but Snake saw me and came over to talk to me.”

  “Did you get a lecture?” Lindsey asked.

  “No, and it’s probably a good thing because I wouldn’t have listened to him,” Wombat said. “He just talked to me without being judgmental. Eventually he told me about this homeless shelter where they’d been volunteering, and he said I might want to look into it since winter was coming, and it was going to be too cold to sleep in my truck.”

  “I think his exact words were, ‘Dude, you’re going to be a Popsicle if you’re still sleeping in this thing when winter rolls around’ or something like that,” Hawk said.

  “How’d he know you were sleeping in it?” Dumbo asked.

  “His sleeping bag was kind of hanging out the back, and he had all of his worldly possessions in there,” Hawk said, grinning. “Even his guitar.”

  “I didn’t even know you played,” Lindsey told Wombat.

  He laughed. “One of these days maybe I’ll find another guitar. Anyway, I went to the shelter, and I ran into these guys again while I was there. They were there a lot, helping with meals, fixing things, doing whatever needed to be done. Hawk was always doing little repairs on the building, which was old and falling apart.”

  “I wanted to tear the building down and start from scratch, but we couldn’t get the funds to do it,” Hawk added. “So I had to keep patching it
instead.”

  “I started helping him,” Wombat said. “He took me under his wing and taught me carpentry.”

  Dumbo laughed. “Hawk took you under his wing.”

  Hawk and Wombat just looked at the other biker before Wombat continued.

  “Hawk told me he’d hire me if I could quit drinking. I don’t think he would have had a problem with me partying on my own time, but the booze had a pretty strong hold on me and we both knew it.”

  “A lot of my guys drink after work,” Hawk said, shrugging. “I don’t care what they do on their own time, but I won’t let them work that way. It’s just too dangerous for everybody.”

  “And I couldn’t drink in moderation, so it was all or nothing,” Wombat said. “It took me a few weeks to decide I wanted something better than being homeless and working a dead-end job. I was also tired of feeling like crap all the time. I quit the stuff, and I went to work with Hawk.”

  “Turned out he had a knack for it,” Hawk said. “He ended up being my best worker.”

  “And I also realized that I wanted to help others like me,” Wombat said. “I joined Snake’s group and haven’t looked back since.”

  “What about you, Dumbo?” Lindsey asked the younger biker.

  “I’ve been with the group for a couple years,” he said. “Same kind of story, but I was doing some heavier drugs.”

  Lindsey nodded, having a new respect for Snake and what he had done.

  “Anyway, I’ve got kitchen duty tonight, so I’d better run,” Dumbo said, picking up his tray and leaving.

  Lindsey stayed to talk with Hawk and Wombat for a while until Hawk stood and said he had to go.

  “I’ve got some painting to do. I promised it would be done by morning.”

  “I’ll come up and help you for a while,” Wombat told him.

  “See you tomorrow, Hawk,” Lindsey said. She caught herself yawning and added, “I’m going to head to bed, I think. It’s been a long day.”

  “Are your arms sore from using that crowbar?” Wombat asked.

  “Definitely,” she said.

  “You’re getting good with it,” he told her. “Can I walk you upstairs before I go help Hawk?”

  “Sure,” Lindsey said. When they got to her room, Wombat stopped and leaned against the door. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”

  Autumn came flying around the corner with a pile of books.

  “Lindsey!” she said. “You’ve got to see the books I found in the library. Marian let me check them out.”

  “Oh, nice!” Lindsey said. “I’m glad you found some you like.”

  “Yeah, but one is a book I had as a kid. I mean, a little kid. It used to be my favorite book.”

  “I think you told me about that one,” Lindsey said.

  “You’ve got to see it!” Autumn told her, excited. “Marian said I can keep that one.”

  “That was nice of her,” Lindsey said with a smile. “I definitely want to see it. Can I talk to Wombat for just a minute, first?”

  “It’s okay,” Wombat said. “Maybe we can talk tomorrow.”

  Lindsey was disappointed that he was leaving, but she knew he was right. When Autumn got something in her head, she normally wouldn’t let it go. Until Lindsey looked at the book, the girl would be hovering nearby.

  Lindsey turned to watch Wombat walk away then followed Autumn into her room.

  ~*~

  Wolf found Snake and Jack in the cafeteria, discussing something around a cup of coffee.

  “Is this a private meeting or can anyone join?” Wolf asked.

  “We’re just trying to fix the world’s woes, but we’re not getting very far,” Jack said.

  “It’d be nice to know exactly what’s going on in the rest of the world,” Wolf sighed, “but I can never seem to find an open computer so I can get online.”

  “Funny,” Snake said. “That model never seems to have a problem.”

  “That’s because she talks the guys into giving up their computers when she wants to use one,” Wolf said, shaking his head. “I guess I just lack her charm.”

  “Among other things,” Snake said, smiling.

  “What about that shortwave radio you guys found at the rental shop?” Jack asked.

  “Sparky was going to play with that when he had some spare time,” Wolf told him.

  “That could be a while,” Snake said. “Maybe we could set it up. How hard could it be?”

  The trio headed to the basement where the pillaged items were stored. After some searching, Jack found an antenna leaning against the wall. Around it was a scattering of wires and electronic equipment. The men stared at the tangled mess of cables and electronic hardware in silence until Snake finally spoke.

  “I guess the guys were in a bit of a hurry when they packed this stuff up.”

  “Maybe we should wait for Sparky,” Wolf suggested.

  “Good idea,” Snake said.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Jack added.

  ~*^*~

  ~37~

  Near Victorville, California

  Hixson was yanked abruptly from his sleep by the slapping of dead hands on the window. He woke with a start to find himself staring at a woman who was missing most of the flesh on the side of her face. He could see her exposed gums and teeth in the moonlight as she bit at the window, and Hixson realized that the thin piece of glass was all that was keeping him alive at the moment. He sat up quickly, unable to look away as the woman’s filthy fingers clawed at the window in hopes of finding a meal inside. With shaking hands, Dan turned the key in the ignition, wondering if he’d ever get used to the sight of the bloodied corpses. His heart was pounding as he turned the truck around. He watched as the dead woman desperately tried to hang on to the side of the vehicle. When she finally let go, she bounced off the pavement and rolled twice. In the glow of the streetlights, Dan watched as she got to her feet again, moving forward relentlessly with her arms outstretched. He expelled a breath and muttered, “Hell of a way to wake up.”

  In the dark of the early morning, he made his way back to the main road. He noticed that Rayburn hadn’t even stirred in his sleep, and the man’s snoring hadn’t changed through the entire ordeal.

  Traveling the back roads was much easier than moving around the LA area had been, yet it wasn’t without problems. Dan was continually forced to find new routes around clogged roads, causing him to have to backtrack several times. What should have been a short drive to Barstow ended up taking hours, and by the time they saw signs of the city ahead, he was ready for a break.

  “Once we get through town, let’s stop and eat something,” he said to Rayburn, who readily agreed.

  They decided to skirt the center of the city and travel along old Hwy. 58. The road consisted of cracked asphalt surrounded by a patchwork of desert, empty lots and a few older commercial buildings, with some residences thrown into the mix. Eventually, they were forced to abandon the truck when an unmanned roadblock made the route impassable. As the men continued on foot, Dan surveyed their surroundings constantly while Rayburn continued to talk.

  “Rattlesnakes like to stretch out on the road in the morning because the asphalt is usually the first thing to heat up. Maybe we should be sticking to the desert,” Rayburn said, stopping to adjust his pack. He hurried to catch up with Hixson again. “Then again, they might be easier to see in the roadway. It can be extremely difficult to see a rattler in the dirt since they’re very good at blending in. Did you know that the rattlers that exist near civilization are learning not to rattle?”

  Dan pretended not to hear him and continued walking, eyes constantly scanning the properties that backed up to the old highway. He was extra vigilant when they passed fences that appeared to have been knocked over recently.

  Rayburn continued, “The ones that rattle tend to be killed by humans, leaving the ones that are more likely to stay silent to pass on their genes. In essence, by killing these magnificent creatures, we’re making them m
ore dangerous to us.”

  Dan stopped suddenly, and George nearly bumped into him.

  “It’s not a snake, is it?”

  “Will you be quiet for a second?” Dan asked, not trying to hide his annoyance.

  There was a low rumble, which became a roar as a chopper rose above a ridge about a hundred yards in front of them.

  “Get down,” Dan yelled as he scurried into a wash on the side of the road. When he looked up, Rayburn was crouched in the middle of the street.

  “Get over here,” Dan hissed, beckoning him with his arm.

  “You said to get down,” Rayburn protested, “you didn’t say to run, then get down.”

  The chopper hovered across the top of the ridge for a few seconds then started toward the two men.

  “Damn it,” Dan cursed, “they’ve spotted us. Now, run!” He sprang from his crouching position and began to sprint.

  Rayburn followed. “Maybe it’s not the same people,” he gasped has he tried to catch up.

  When the road ahead of them was suddenly pockmarked by a spray of bullets, Dan said, “I don’t think it matters. This way!”

  They ran up to a home with a low wall around the front yard. Turning the latch on the gate, Dan was relieved to find it unlocked. The two men raced into the back yard, which held several large shade trees. The chopper was visible through the leaves, and Dan guessed that the pilot was trying to get at a better angle to see them.

  “We need to hide,” Dan said, looking around. The next few yards also had trees, and he ran to his left, climbing over a fence before helping Rayburn to do the same. When he thought it was safe, he helped Rayburn over another fence, watching the chopper through the leaves as it moved slowly over the homes. Looking around, Dan saw that a large covered patio spanned the entire length of the house.