E52

  With great caution I stand up and walk backwards, never losing eye contact with the dog.

  A stick beneath my foot cracks, scaring me. I leap back, startling the dog. He takes an attack position and begins to growl.

  I aim the gun and shoot. I miss but the sound is enough to scare the dog. He runs off.

  Not only was the gunshot loud enough to scare the dog but I am certain that if any of the Creetions are around they heard it to. Now that I have made it obvious as to where I am I do not like the thought of being here alone. I run back to the car.

  “What was that?” Bill asks as I enter the car.

  Worried that Bill would take my gun I had stopped before I reached the car and tucked the gun in my sock. But now I realize that he had heard the gunshot and more than likely knows somehow I retrieved a gun.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You know what. Just take your kid and leave,” Bill demands. “I can‘t trust you anymore.”

  Bill glares at me with uncaring eyes.

  “Fine!” I snarl.

  I take the gun from my sock and in one swift motion point to toward his heart and pull the trigger. The gun does not go off. Frenzied I try again. The gun is empty.

  “You stupid Bitch!” Bill screams. “After all I have done for you, you try to kill me instead of just leaving.”

  Bill slaps me, causing my lip to split and blood to trickle down my chin. The smell of fresh serum causes Tommy to go in to a frenzy. He moves about in his seat with such strength that I fear it will be only seconds before he escapes. I take the blunt end of the gun and slam it on Bill’s forehead with such force that he skull cracks. Blood spews from his wound. Bill is dazed

  “Forgive me,” I state opening my door. “But I can‘t trust you either anymore.”

  I reach back and unbuckle Tommy’s seat-belt, jump out and close the door behind me. He lunges forward. Before Bill can acknowledge what is happening Tommy has bitten into his neck and ripped through his carotid artery. Bill grabs his neck and tries to stop the bleeding all the while trying to fight Tommy off of him. The child is strong and with every second Bill weakens. His screams becomes shallow.

  “I’m so sorry,“ I state touching the window.

  As Tommy continues to devour Bill’s flesh, blood splatters on the car windows, blanketing the glass with the red serum.

  I watch my son feast on the lifeless man until the windows become completely obscured. I have allowed my son to be one of them when all I ever wanted was for him to be cured.

  “Did I do the right thing?” I question myself.

  I touch the window pane again.

  “I had no choice,” I tell myself. “He would have left us here or killed us.”

  Minutes pass by as I listen to the sounds of Tommy growling, enjoying his meal. I want to stop him, but I fear that if I try I will be next.

  “Now what do I do?” I ask myself.

  I sit down on the grass and wait, trying to figure out what to do next. The area is quiet allowing me to hear everything around me. I listen intently.

  “What was that?” I question aloud.

  I turn and look. It is difficult at first to pinpoint the location of the sounds, but with a bit of concentration I figure out that it is coming from the trees directly behind me. I leap to a standing position and grab for my gun.

  “Shit!” I think to myself, remembering that it is not loaded.

  My hands begin to shake.

  Eyes peer out from the darkness. It is a man followed by a dozen other men and women, all Creetions, all walking toward me. I have no choice I have to my chances and get back into the car.

  I reach for the handle and pull open the door. Tommy looks up but only for a moment.

  Tommy!” I scream.

  Tommy glances up at me.

  “Mommy needs to get in the car,” I state, panicked. “Mommy needs you to stop!”

  To my surprise Tommy stop feasting and sits down. I unbuckle Bill’s seat-belt and pull his remains out. His entire midsection has been eaten, the rest of his body mangled, and Tommy is the one that had done it to him. Even though it is my child and he had listened to me, I know I must have some type of defense. I grab the gun from Bill’s side-belt and jump into the car. The seat is covered in blood. The pool of red serum seeps through my clothing instantly. I am disgusted. Because of my decision I am sitting in the remains of the only friend I had left in this world..

  I look over, Tommy is sitting calmly next to me. He has no want to eat me.

  “Thank you Mommy. I am not hungry anymore.” Tommy says smiling.

  To look at him sickens me. He is covered in blood, chunks of flesh stuck to his clothing.

  Bam!

  Someone slams into the window beside me. I jerk my head to the side. The Creetions have surrounded the car.

  They thrash into my window again, slamming their heads into the glass. The window cracks. My entire body shakes in fear. I have never had to defend me and my son by myself.

  “Don’t worry mommy,” Tommy states. “They won’t hurt you, they are my friends.”

  “Well they are not mine,” I snap.

  Starting the car I put it in reverse and stomp on the gas, running over at least three of the walking dead. I stop and watch as they stand back up and walk my way. I put the car in first gear. There are to many of them so I decide to go around, in fear that by hitting them that the car will be damaged and I will become victim to a broken down car. As I pass by I see Bill rise, his dead black eyes glaring at me like he remembers what I have done.

  Chapter Ten

  The death of Bill has made me realize that I must abandon my idea of finding my eldest son… at least for now. Afraid of what may happen if Tommy was to come in contact with others I decide that I need to find the antidote for Tommy, now! With every kill that Tommy makes and every bit of flesh that Tommy eats he becomes more like the infected.

  We have been driving for over an hour so I fear that it will not be long before I come across other people in search for safety. I have to ditch this car and look for another. There is no way I can be seen driving in a car that is plastered in blood on the inside, not only would people ask questions it is disgusting. Taking a rag from the back seat I use the only water we have left, soak the rag and wash off the windshield. The rag quickly becomes soiled with the massive amount of blood that covers the windshield. Taking another rag I wipe the rest of the blood off as best as I can.

  “That will work until we can find another car,” I think to myself.

  Knowing that the best chance to find a different car will be on the interstate, we will have to continue on the dirt road until we come to an intersection that will bring us back to the paved road. The interstate is only five miles away so it should not take long to get there.

  Reaching back I grab the CD case and lay it between Tommy and I. my hands are slippery from the blood soaked rag I had used moments before causing any CD I grasp to become soiled.

  Sickened by the site of Bills blood on my hand I glance over at Tommy.

  He is still sitting in the seat next to me. Unaware of what he had done to Bill he is playing with one of his cars, mimicking the sounds of a roaring engine. His clothes are soaked with blood, evidence to the massacre he recently committed.

  “Where is Bill?” he asks. “I want to play with him.”

  Looking away from the road in front of me I glare at Tommy. I am speechless. Does he really not understand what he has done?

  “He is dead,” I state.

  “No he isn’t Mommy, I saw him when we drove away. He was with the other people.” He smiles.

  I want to scream and yell “You killed him!” but I do not know what I can say that will make him understand the horror of the situation.

  “He decided to stay there,” I lie. “We will see him later.”

  Avoiding any further conversation about Bill, I instruct him to continue playing with his cars. I put a CD in the CD player and turn up the music.

/>   “Concentrate on what you need to do and forget the past. You will find the cure and your son will become as any other normal child.” I think in my mind, trying to convince myself that everything will be okay.”

  The soft music in the background helps me calm down and relax. I look at the scenery around us keeping an eye out for signs that will point me to the intersection.

  “There it is,” I state.

  With a quick turn to the right we are on the on ramp headed on intersection.

  The road we are on now offers a wide variety of abandoned cars so all I need to do is find one that has the keys in it and still has enough gas in it to get to a place to where I can get more. It is usually impossible to find gas unless you siphon it, that is if you can find a car that someone else hasn't already gotten to that car before you.

  Most of the cars on the roads that we have come across had been left running so they are depleted of gas. This is evident by the key still being in the ignition in the on position. I come across cars like this often so I now check the ignition before attempting to siphon any gas. It saves time.

  One of the first cars I come to is a 2013 convertible corvette and although it is my favorite color of red, I know the rag-top will offer no protection from the Creetions if for some reason we were overtaken. I continue down the road. Up ahead is a pile of mangled cars, most of which look to be out of commission so I swerve around the pileup and continue on my way.

  The further I get from the big city the fewer cars I see. I will have to find something soon or turn around and head back to the city.

  “There has to be something out here,” I think in my head, discouraged.

  We have been driving for over an hour; Tommy is asleep now so the car is silent. I take a CD of Aerosmith from the case and insert it into the CD player. They have always been one of my favorite bands, but I turn down the volume to ensure that I do not wake my son.

  “What is that?” I say beneath my breath, spotting a truck in the distance.

  To the right shoulder of the road sits a newer silver Dodge Dakota. Keeping a minimal distance away I slowly drive by with the passenger side window rolled slightly down. The truck appears to be abandoned so I stop, put the car in reverse, and back up to the truck.

  “I will sit here for a minute just to see if anything happens,” I think to myself.

  Minutes pass; I do not see anyone around or any movement in the truck so I decide that it will be safe to go check the truck. Keeping the car running I unbuckle my seat-belt, tightly grip the gun I took from Bill and open the car door. I get out slowly, scanning the area as I walk. The area remains desolate.

  Prepared for anything I reach out and open the driver's side of the truck door. The door creaks. My attempt to keep my whereabouts a secret has just been foiled. Instantaneously I pull the door fully open and take a step back. Not only is the truck free from any person or Creetion, but there are two guns laying on the seat.

  “Now if there are keys and gas I am set,” I whisper searching the truck.

  The keys are not in the ignition so I check the visor… nothing

  “Damn it!” I state aloud. “I am going to have to keep looking for another car.”

  Disappointed I get out of the truck and begin to shut the door.

  “The guns,” I think in my mind.

  Just as I open the door again a foreign metal object on the floorboard catches my attention. I reach down and grab the object. It is a set of keys.

  “Awesome,” I state.

  The key marked with a Dodge emblem is the first key I come across in the massive set of keys. I put it in the ignition and turn the key. The engine struggles to start.

  “Maybe if I pump the gas,” I think to myself.

  Afraid that I may flood the engine I place my foot on the gas pedal and push down on it only once. I had heard somewhere that doing this will prime the gas line and help a car to start if it had been sitting for a while. I am not certain if that pertains to only older cars but I figure it is worth a try.

  “Come one baby,” I say aloud, turning the key in the ignition.

  The engine struggles for a second then the truck starts up. I glance down at the dash. There are no lights on so there is nothing wrong with the truck.

  “Look at that,” I smile. “A full tank of gas.”

  Something is astray, why would someone abandon a truck with a full tank of gas and why would they leave their guns behind?

  I look around the cab. No blood, no sign of struggle can be seen. I check the guns; the guns are loaded.

  “Strange,” I think to myself.

  My mama always told me not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so decide not to start now.

  Without waking Tommy I gather our clothing and the food I have collected and place everything in the back seat. There is not much so it only takes up half of the section in the back.

  “Come on honey,” I state waking Tommy.

  I am afraid that if I startle Tommy that he might attack me so I take great caution in tapping him on the shoulder.

  “Mommy found a new truck,” I continue. “Don’t you want to see it?”

  Slowly opening his eyes he stretches and then looks at me.

  “What Mommy?” He asks.

  “Mommy found us a new truck so you need to wake up,” I answer.

  He stretches one more time and then is ready to go.

  “That is a big truck,” He smiles in excitement. “I like it.”

  So that I know every move that he makes I set him in the seat next to me and buckle him in.

  “Are you ready?” I ask him.

  Tommy looks around and then looks back at me; he looks concerned.

  ‘Where are my cars?” He asks.

  When I had taken him out of the car I had forgotten the cars that he always plays with. Hurried-like I run back over to the car, grab his toys and rush back to the truck.

  “Here you are,” I state handing him five of his favorite cars. “Will this be okay for now?’

  “Yep,” He answers

  Even though one rarely comes in contact with others on the highway I still believe in safety so I buckle my seat, adjust the mirrors and then head off. The truck is quiet and runs quite well leading me to believe it is only a few months old.

  “Look Mommy I have a truck just like this one,” Tommy smiles, holding out one of his trucks for me to see.”

  “What color is that?” I ask.

  Lately I have been working on trying to teach Tommy different things, colors being one of them.

  “Purple!” He states enthusiastic.

  “You are such a smart boy,” I state patting him on the head.

  The ride will be a long one and I had forgotten all our music in the other car, so I try to think of some songs I use to sing when I was a child and teach them to Tommy. His voice makes me smile; he may look like a monster and at times act like one but to me he is my child and I think he is precious.

  We have been driving for over eight hours and I am getting tired. I need to find a place to rest.

  “This road looks as good as any,” I state, taking the first road I come to.

  Driving deep into the farmland I search for a farm that looks to be deserted and free of the Creetions. The area of Iowa I am in now consists of mostly dead corn fields but there are a few farms that remain standing.

  “We will stop soon,” I tell Tommy.

  In the distance I see a farm. One of the barns has been burned down but the house remains unscathed. I am not certain what or who I will find, but I decide it is as good as any place to start looking.

  The dirt road is rough. By the deep holes it is obvious that the road has not been grated for many years, as most of the dirt roads around. I drive slowly assuring that I avoid as many sharp rocks and potholes as possible. The house is about a quarter of a mile away, so it does not take long to get there.

  I bring the car to rest at the front steps.

  “I want you to stay here while I
check out the house,” I tell Tommy. “If you see anyone I want you to honk the horn okay?”

  “Sure mommy,” Tommy answers, all the while continuing to play with his cars.

  Ignoring the fact that Tommy had just killed Bill, I lean over and kiss him lightly on the forehead.

  The dry blood feels disgusting against my lips. I blow any of the crust and wipe my lips on a clean spot of my dress.

  After taking a quick glimpse around I open the car door, hold my gun tightly in my hands and keep the barrel faced in front of me.

  If I learned anything from Bill it is always to look around, listen closely to my surroundings, and keep my gun pointed forward, so that is exactly what I do. Taking small steps I carefully step on each wooden stair. I try to keep my presence silent,but the wood is old and the stairs creek beneath my feet.

  “So much for being quiet,” I think to myself.

  Taking the doorknob in one hand, I continue to hold my gun firmly in the other. I open the door.

  The house is quiet but nicely lit up due to the curtain free windows. Dust floats through the air as a breeze enters through the open door. My nose tickles. I hold back my sneeze.

  As quiet as I can I walk in. The floors are that of old wood and by the looks of them have not been refinished since the house was first built.

  “I bet this house is from the late 1800’s,” I think to myself.

  Cautious I walk to the room to the right. It is the living room. The focal point of the room is a large stone fireplace that spreads from one end of the wall to the other. The wooden mantle houses many black and white pictures of past family members. I walk over and pick up the largest photo of them all. The picture is that of a man and a woman and from the attire they are wearing it looks to date back to the early 1900’s. I place the picture back down and look around. The room is dusty and does not look to have been cleaned for a long period of time. I rub my hand against the couch; the dust has overtaken the blue color of the velvety material making it appear to be tan. Next to the farthest window sits an old wooden rocking chair with a crochet blanket that rests on one of the arms of the chair.