No Direction Home (Book 1): No Direction Home

by Mike Sheridan

  Jonah pried open the pharmacy’s glass door with a goose-necked jimmy he’d found in a utility room back at the hotel that morning. Inside, he took another gander at the first aid list:

  Antibiotics, Antibacterial Cream, Anti-Diarrheal tablets

  Tourniquet, Gauzes, Trauma Pad, Bandages, Burn salve, Splints & Suture Kit

  Band Aids, Butterfly strips, latex gloves, medical tape & pain killers

  Hydrogen Peroxide, Blood Clotting Agent & Super Glue

  “Super glue…on a first aid list?” Jonah said, raising an eyebrow. Colleen had added another item since he last looked.

  “To button up that big mouth of yours,” she replied with a grin. “Actually, it’s perfect for wound closure. Keep an eye out for SurgiSeal or Dermabond. They’re the two best known brands.”

  Twenty minutes later, they’d found everything they needed except for the suturing kit. “Let’s keep an eye out for a veterinary hospital or clinic on our way back,” Colleen commented. “They ought to have them.”

  They moved on. In the northwest section of the mall, they came across a Dick’s Sporting Goods outlet. To their delight, it had a hunting department, where they threw a bunch more stuff into the two canvas bags they’d picked up earlier: Leatherman multipurpose knives, buck knives with a seven-inch blade (for cutting game), a pair of Steiner Tactical 10x binoculars (for spotting game – and the bad guys), a pair of Sightmark Ghost Hunter 2x night vision binoculars (for spotting the bad guys in the dark).

  They also picked up equipment to purify water: Lifestraws, Sawyers filters, and a Katadyn pump filter. Last but not least, several cans of pepper spray and a machete. The pepper spray was in case of a bear attack, Colleen explained.

  Thirty minutes later, the two hauled their goodies back through the mall and out the south side entrance, where they’d parked the Taurus in front of the food court.

  “That’s us set for tomorrow,” Colleen said, a satisfied look on her face as the two packed everything into the car.

  Jonah grinned. “I haven’t seen you this excited since Leicester won the Prem,” he said, referring to a few years back when Leicester City had won the English Premiership. At the start of the season, the odds of them winning had been five thousand to one. In the closing few games, half of Europe, including Jonah and Colleen, had willed them on.

  “Jonah, I’m not happy with any of this,” Colleen reprimanded him. Relenting a little, she added, “We’re dealing with things well, but we’re still at a critical stage of our survival. Let’s see where we are in a week’s time.”

  They made one more stop on the way back to the hotel. One Jonah insisted on. Pulling up outside a liquor store, from his back pocket he pulled out his own list:

  Jack Daniels x6 btls

  Budweiser x48 tins

  White Wine x1 btl (for Colleen)

  Opening the driver door, he grabbed the jimmy. “Right love, just getting a bit of gargle for the trip. You know, to get me through this critical stage of our survival. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  Colleen rolled her eyes and sighed. “Jonah Murphy, you’re lucky I love you very much.”

  ***

  Returning to the Sun Ray, the couple wearily hauled their canvas bags up the emergency stairs. It had been another scorching day, and the smell in the hotel had gotten worse.

  “Jaysus, that stink is bleedin’ woeful,” Jonah said, pinching his nose as they emerged from the stairwell onto the second floor. “I tell yeh, I won’t be sorry to see the back of this kip.”

  Once inside their room, Jonah immediately dropped his gear and rushed into the bathroom, where he grabbed a towel, then his aftershave from off the shelf. Rolling up the towel, he brought it into the bedroom and planted it across the foot of the hall door.

  He unscrewed the bottle of aftershave and poured it across the towel. “That’ll get rid of the smell,” he said. “You know, I could do with a bit of that meself.” Splashing the remaining drops of aftershave onto his fingers, he daubed it on both sides of his face, then chucked the bottle on the floor.

  Colleen wrinkled her nose at the pungent smell wafting toward her. “I’m not sure whether you’ve made things better or worse,” she said, frowning. “Did you really need to pour it all on?”

  Jonah shrugged. “I’ll take the smell of Old Spice over Old Pox any day of the week. Come on, let’s start packing so we’re ready to go first thing in the morning.”

  He opened the canvas bags and began pulling out the contents, placing them on the bed. “I’ll say one thing about the apoxalypse,” he said with a grin. “It’s great the way yeh can grab whatever yeh want in the stores, no matter what the price tag says. If you include the shooters, we must have over ten grand’s worth of gear here.”

  “Jonah, don’t call it the apoxalypse!” Colleen said in an exasperated tone. “This isn’t a joke. This is deadly serious stuff.”

  Jonah looked at her sheepishly. “Sorry, love. Just with this…this virus being called vPox and all, what do you expect? Somebody’s bound to call it that.”

  “No,” Colleen said firmly. “The apoxalypse is all yours. Trust me on that.”

  For the next few minutes, the couple continued to pack in silence, Jonah tossing his clothes into his backpack while Colleen carefully folded hers, arranging them neatly in her pack. The items she decided weren’t worth taking with her, she discarded on the floor beside her. At the top of the heap were her frilly pink top with the plunging cleavage and the pair of matching high heels.

  “Ah no, love,” Jonah said in alarm when he spotted them. “Yer not leaving the hot stuff behind, are yeh?”

  Colleen frowned. “Jonah, they’re not practical. We’re in the middle of a full blown apocalypse. Franklin Horton is an expert on survival gear. When packing, he advises to—”

  “I don’t give a monkey’s what Franklin Horton says,” Jonah fumed, “nor Arthur bleedin’ Bradley for that matter.” Walking around the bed, he seized her top and heels and stuffed them into his own rucksack. “The hot stuff stays. If we don’t take it with us, it really will be the end of the world. Mine anyway.”

  CHAPTER 27

  The following morning, the Camp Knox group, as they’d chosen to call themselves, sat in the living room for their “daily brief”. This was their second meeting, and Chris kept it shorter than the previous day – no more than a quick update on what was going on at the camp. With his enthusiasm and high energy personality, Cody had to admit he didn’t find his talks in the least bit boring.

  “Just a couple more items,” Chris said, wrapping things up. He consulted his notes, then looked over at Cody and smiled. “It appears we have a sharpshooter in our midst. As you’re all aware, yesterday Eddy and Cody went out on the group’s first hunting expedition. Cody proved to be a superb hunter. Not only did he bag a two hundred and fifty pound buck, but he field dressed the kill like a real pro.” He shot Eddy a look. “Seems like our security chief got well and truly owned.”

  An uncomfortable expression came over Eddy’s face. Catching Cody staring at him, he glowered, instantly dispelling the initial sympathy Cody felt for him. Something told him they were never going to be friends. No loss to Cody, that was for sure.

  “All right, final thing.” Chris turned his attention to Walter. “As we discussed yesterday, our initial agreement was that you, Cody, and Pete would tag along with the group until we all got to know one another better. Having consulted privately with everybody, I’m pleased to announce that we are more than happy for the three of you to join us on a permanent basis.” He flashed one of his beaming smiles. “It’s up to you guys to decide whether you feel likewise. If so, we can go about the process of officially integrating you into the group, something I’ve delayed doing until now.”

  “What does that entail exactly?” Walter asked. “We’ve willingly participated in everything so far. I’m not sure what else can be expected of us.”

  “Walter, I’m not talking about participation, I said integrati
on. That means formally submitting your supplies and equipment, just like every other member here has done.”

  Walter’s eyebrows shot up. “Submit our supplies and equipment? Like what exactly?”

  “Everything. Your food, your hunting and fishing gear, also your trucks, trailers, and weapons. Not your personal handguns, but everything else needs to—”

  “Our trucks and trailers? Are you serious?” Pete broke in, an incredulous look on his face. “You really expect us to hand everything we own over to you?”

  “Not to me, to the group,” Chris replied coolly. “This is a survival community. Therefore, by definition, all items of survival need to belong to the community.”

  Cody glanced at Walter, whose frown had deepened. “That logic makes no sense to me,” he said. “No reason why people can’t be part of this group yet continue to have their own possessions.” He looked around the room. “Really? Everyone here has handed everything over to Chris?”

  A series of murmurs and nods followed. “It makes for a stronger group,” Liz said, looking earnestly at Walter. “Knowing that we’re all here for one another.”

  “No room for selfishness at Camp Knox. One hundred percent commitment,” Tim said sternly. “Everything we do is for the good of the group.”

  Walter scratched his head. “That’s a big ask,” he said finally. “We’ll need to think about it.”

  Chris smiled. “No problem. I’ll give you a couple of days.” He snapped his notebook shut and stood up. “All right, people, that wraps up today’s brief. We all know what we need to do. Let’s get on with it.”

  Slightly dazed, Cody stood up and left the room, accompanied by Walter and Pete. Walking out of the lodge and into the brilliant sunshine, Walter pulled the two of them over to one side. “We need to talk,” he said in a tight voice. “Like straight away.”

  “No kidding,” Pete replied.

  The three headed along the lake shore until they were several hundred yards away from the lodge and out of earshot.

  “That settles it for me,” Walter said as soon as they’d sat down by a group of rocks overlooking the lake. “By making sure all property belongs to the group, not any individual, it gives Chris absolute power here. That’s not something I can accept.” He shook his head. “Damn, I should have seen that coming.”

  “We need to get out of here,” Pete said, a worried look on his face. “I just hope there’s no trouble when we do.”

  Walter nodded. “We need to be real careful. Let’s not tell anyone of our plans until we’re good and ready. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Pete replied.

  “I don’t get it,” Cody said. “How the hell did he get everyone to agree to join on those terms?”

  Walter shrugged. “Unlike the three of us, everyone else joined individually. Think about it. You’re alone in a city with gangs forming around you. You’re scared as hell. Someone offers to protect you…what you going to do?”

  An uncomfortable look came over Pete’s face. “I guess I was guilty of something worse. I was fool enough to join Mason’s gang. Man, what the hell was I thinking?”

  “Forget it, buddy,” Walter said. “You came through in the end. Big time.”

  Pete perked up a little at Walter’s words. “Anyway, the three of us, we’re not on our own. He must be crazy if he thinks we’re just going to hand our gear over to him.”

  “How about you, kid?” Walter asked Cody. “You’ve gone a little quiet. You okay about leaving here?”

  Cody hesitated. Even though he still didn’t know her well, the thought of leaving Emma behind played on his mind. Over the past couple of days, they’d spent a lot of time together, becoming increasingly more comfortable with one another. Cody felt there was a real chemistry between them.

  “Of course,” he said. “When do we go?”

  “Right now, I say,” Pete said.

  Walter looked pensive a moment. “We got a couple of days. Let’s plan a few things first.”

  “Like what?” Cody asked, relieved they wouldn’t be going right away.

  “Like finding a new camp. Don’t know about you two, but I like it around here. The Cohutta is plenty big enough for another group. We just need to find the right spot, that’s all.”

  “If they’ll take us, how about moving over to the Benton camp?” Cody said. “I’m pretty sure the sheriff would love to have a guy like you around.” He grinned at Pete. “Not so sure how he might feel about taking in a couple of lowly gravediggers though.”

  “At least you can hunt,” Pete said glumly. “I haven’t figured out yet what I’m good for.”

  Walter shook his head. “The Bentons are a tight community. They’ve all known each other for years. I’m not sure how well we’d fit in there. I say we start our own community.”

  “Just the three of us?” Pete said doubtfully.

  “To start with. Then we do what Chris and Mason have done. We recruit.”

  Cody liked the idea immediately. “Only we do it properly. No dictators,” he said, his eyes lighting up.

  “Exactly,” Walter said. “A community that’s set up fair and square, where everyone gets their say.”

  Cody and Pete glanced at one another, nodding their heads in agreement. It went without saying who the leader of the new group would be.

  “Let’s get going on this right away,” Walter continued. “We can start by moving out some of our gear. Just in case.”

  “In case of what?” Cody asked.

  “In case Chris isn’t too keen on us taking it all with us. Not saying that’s going to happen, but why take the chance?”

  “How about the radios?” Pete asked. “You think he’ll give them back?”

  Walter shrugged. “I doubt it. No point on kicking up a fuss about them. Let’s just call that a parting gift. I’ve got a couple of sites in mind for a new camp. I’ll show you them on the map later. On our afternoon break, we’ll discreetly pack up some of our gear, drive out, and take a look at them, then we decide which is the most suitable. Tomorrow we’ll haul more gear over. The following day, we say our goodbyes and move out.”

  Chris had designated three to five p.m. each day as the group’s afternoon break, when people could take care of personal things. Given the oppressive summer heat the previous day, many had chosen to take a nap. Cody had chosen to spend the time with Emma.

  “Sound like a plan?” Walter asked, staring at the two.

  “Damn straight, it sounds like a plan,” Pete said excitedly. “Looks like we’ll have our very own group soon. We’ll need to come up with a name for it. Any ideas?”

  Walter grinned. “Anything but Camp Three Amigos. Not a lot of room for expansion there.”

  The three stood up and headed back to the lodge. Along the way, Cody thought about Emma. In a couple of days, he’d be leaving Camp Knox. If anything was going to happen between them, it would need to be soon.

  CHAPTER 28

  Russ Willis stood leaning against the door in Mason’s apartment, clutching his motorcycle helmet in one hand. Unshaven, he looked even more bedraggled than the last time Mason had seen him. Two days of sleeping rough in the forest would do that. Not that Mason gave a damn. He only cared about the news Russ brought with him.

  With the stink of death and garbage everywhere, compounded by the summer heat, Mason was impatient to leave Knoxville. Over the past few days, he and his gang had been busy gathering as much weapons, ammunition, and supplies as they could find.

  “So…” he said, staring at Russ, “what have you learned since I last saw you? Are Walter and his friends still up at the lake?”

  Russ nodded. “It’s like I thought, they’ve set up a permanent camp at Wasson Lodge. It’s a great setup. Plenty of fish in the lake, and the hunting is good too. The young kid, Walter’s friend? He drove out of camp yesterday. Came back a few hours later with a big-ass deer. Must be plenty of them in the forest.”

  Or maybe the boy was just a good hunter, Mason thought sour
ly, remembering how three of his gang got taken out that night at the Chevron station. He put the distasteful thought out of his mind.

  “Who’s the leader of this group?” he asked. “Is it Walter?”

  “No, it’s a younger guy. He’s got blond hair and dresses all preppy. Wears polo shirts and yachting shoes. Got plenty of energy though. He’s got them working like beavers all day long.”

  “Yeah? Doing what exactly?”

  “Gathering firewood, setting up shower stalls by the lake, stuff like that. There’s even a laundry area there. Every day, people go out scavenging. They come back with their pickups loaded with all sorts of shit.”

  “How about security? What’s the setup?”

  “There’s two roadblocks, not one, like I thought. They’ve set them up north and south of the two camps with guards posted 24/7. They’ve been turning plenty of other survivors away too.”

  “That a problem?” Mason asked, frowning.

  Russ grinned. “Not for us. I’ve found a forest track that’ll take us all the way to the lodge.”

  Mason looked at him keenly. “No one guarding it?”

  Russ shook his head. “They’ve laid tripwire around the camp though. It cuts right across the track.”

  Mason raised an eyebrow. “Tripwire?”

  “Fishing line with empty tin cans tied to it,” Russ explained. “Kicks up a racket anytime someone catches their foot in it. Don’t worry, I watched them put it down. I know exactly where it is.”

  “Good,” Mason grunted. “What else?”

  “A truck arrived back at the lodge yesterday full of sandbags. They’ve set up defensive posts around the building and posted guards.”

  “Who’s organizing all this? That the yuppie guy too…or Walter?”

  “Nope, that was another guy.” Russ reached into his jacket pocket and took out a notepad. With grubby fingers, he flicked through the pages, then handed it to Mason. “I got it all figured out.”