Resting on my haunches, I waited, keeping an eye on the rutted track outside. As I sat there I thought of Sarah and how much trouble this all was. But I had to admit that I liked having the girl around. Even though I was naturally a loner, I did occasionally enjoy the company of others. I would do anything I could to make sure she stayed alive, even taking risks like this.
My thoughts were broken by the sound of an approaching car. Of course it was our pursuers. It hadn’t taken them that long to push the car out of the ditch. I saw the Dodge was going slowly over the rutted road, the suspension occasionally bottoming out. The front bumper was a broken mess of plastic and the hood was crumpled like an accordion. As the car approached the barn, it slowed. I was hoping against all possibilities that they wouldn’t notice the truck hidden amongst the bushes and trees. At first I had thought I had gotten lucky since the car started to move on, but then it stopped and was thrown into reverse. The driver backed up and then stopped in front of the road leading to the barn. Perhaps he thought the car was blocking some getaway point but with the clearance of the truck I could have driven right around it.
The doors of the car opened in unison and I could see two men get out. They both wore pistols on the hips and had pump shotguns held at the ready. The man wearing the flannel was tall and had the looks of an experienced hunter; his eyes scanning the ruined area. The driver was wearing dark sunglasses and was of medium build. He looked like a hick deputy out of central casting. I could hear them talking.
“Look what we’ve got here. Do you see any sign of them?” the police officer asked.
“No, but that’s the truck alright,” the other one replied with a slow drawl. “They have to be somewhere close by.”
I waited tensely, expecting to hear the report of the Browning pistol. It then dawned on me that Sarah couldn’t see them because the barn was in her line of vision. She would probably wait until she was completely sure that the two men had left the car.
“I don’t like it,” the officer said.
“What can one guy and a kid do?” the other said with a laugh.
The reply was tinged with anger. “Yeah, you’re right, but he managed to make me wreck my car. We were lucky to get it out of that ditch.”
The man with the uneasy eyes laughed. It was an annoying high-pitched sound. “I know you’re pissed. But don’t worry you can beat it out on him when we see him. But first let’s see if they left anything for us in the truck.”
The other man said, “Just be careful, it could be a trap.”
I could see them moving now, their figures appearing and disappearing from view through the broken slats of the barn. As soon as they rounded the corner, I heard the distant report of a pistol firing. It was Sarah doing her job.
The two men froze, their shotguns now held even higher.
“That sounded like a pistol,” the policeman said.
“But he wasn’t shooting at us or else he’s the worst shot in the world,” his friend replied with an uneasy laugh.
The men strode forward. I watched for a moment before making my move. I felt my heart in my mouth as I quietly made my way under the barn door. The seconds ticked by, feeling like hours. I walked on the balls of my feet, trying not to stir up any debris. Their backs were to me, not even suspecting that I was behind them. I never counted on the police for having much in the brains department.
When I was ten feet away from them, I cocked my pistol. That was enough of a sound to make them jump. “Don’t move,” I managed to choke out. “If you do, I’ll blow you away.”
I could see them tense up as if ready to turn around and try to open fire before I had a chance to gun them down. Only a real fool would try something so impossible.
The officer was a fool. He swung around with the shotgun. I fired, aiming for his head since there was a possibility he was wearing body armor. The shot missed my intended target but was still a hit. He staggered back a step, pulling his trigger at the same time. The shotgun went off, spraying buckshot far to my right and hitting the barn beyond. He then dropped the gun, clutched the top of his shoulder, and let out a howl of pain. The red underneath his shirt indicated I had hit him, the bullet piercing the top of his arm. He fell to his knees.
I didn’t give his friend a chance to react. I told him, “If you want to die, go ahead and give me an excuse to pull the trigger. Now put those weapons on the ground. Slowly.”
The hunter gently put his shotgun down. The belt with the pistol slid off his hips to rest in the dirt.
“Join your cop buddy,” I told him. “Pull his gun out of that holster and put it gently on the ground. Don’t try anything stupid.” My voice sounded far away and high-pitched. I was running on adrenaline now.
The hunter did so, crouching next to his friend. He took his partner’s pistol out of the holster and placed it gently a few feet away.
I said, “I’m sure you said this plenty of times to others, but now you get a chance to try it yourself. Put your hands over your head. But first take that belt off.”
“I’m hurt,” the cop whined. “I can’t lift my arm up.”
“Give it a try,” I suggested, waving my pistol at him.
The policeman wasn’t hurt that badly. With his good hand he unhitched his belt. And with some minor difficulty he was able to put his hands up. He managed to stand. Together they shuffled off to the side.
Once they had moved away, I went over to the belt and retrieved a pair of handcuffs.. I waved my pistol at the hunter, “Now I want you to take these handcuffs and put one on your partner. And then put the other cuff on yourself.” I threw the pair of the handcuffs near his feet.
“Look, mister,” he protested, “you can’t do this to us.”
“And why not? There is no law left in this county and a pair of losers like you are done giving orders to people. So unless you want a belly full of lead, I suggest you take those handcuffs and slap them on your partner’s wrist. Don’t worry, if you do as I say, I’ll make sure you’ll live.”
“Okay, okay,” he said hastily. He put the one of manacles on his partner and only cinched it tight when I ordered him to do so. Then the other cuff went on his right wrist.
‘Now both of you, down on the ground and on your stomachs.”
Once they were both resting face forward in the dirt, I went over and put a knee into the back of the police officer. I then rested the end of the barrel of the pistol on the back of his neck. With my free hand, I cinched the metal bands even tighter. I then searched the both of them, removing the handcuff key that the officer carried. I stood up and let my breath go. I felt ill as the moment of fear washed away.
“Sarah!” I shouted. “You can come out now.”
In moments she broke out from the pine trees, the Browning hanging from her hand. She looked scared but had enough pluck to practically skip over to stand next me.
She said, “He’s bleeding. I saw you shoot him!”
“I had to. Now let’s get out of here.”
“Sure,” Sarah said without much conviction. She headed toward the truck, glancing in my direction several times.
The cop began to bluster. “You can’t leave us here! I’m wounded and need help.”
“I think I can. You can walk back to wherever you come from.”
“We have to help them!” Sarah added.
“No we don’t,” I shot back. “Get in the truck.”
With a scowl she went to stand by the passenger door.
“You bastard!” the policeman yelled. “You’re going to die if you keep going. It isn’t safe around here.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, wondering what kind of trick he was playing at.
“You haven’t seen those creatures? They are everywhere now.”
I shook my head. “You’re talking crazy.”
His friend said, “Just shut up, Dan. There’s nothing we can do to convince him. He won’t believe us until he sees those things with his own eyes. Just let him go. He’ll ge
t what he deserves.”
I couldn’t figure out what kind of game they were playing. So instead of saying anything else I scooped up their guns, handing the Beretta pistols over to Sarah. I held the two Mossberg shotguns over my shoulder. I could get some real use out of these. Going over to the truck, I placed the shotguns gently inside of the bed. I waited until Sarah was safely in the truck before I entered. I started up the engine and drove slowly past the two men. By now they had rolled over on their backsides and were sitting up. They both gave me a baleful stare.
I drove past the parked car, and reached the two-track. Stopping the truck, I put it into park. I said, “Hold on, Sarah, I’m going to make sure they won’t follow us, or bother anyone else with that car.”
Hopping out of the truck, I took one of the shotguns out from the back of the bed. I walked over to the Dodge, keeping a small distance from myself and the mean-looking machine. I looked down the sights and fired into the body of the car. The glass on the driver’s side window shattered, the lead shot tearing into the metal. I fired another round into the inside the car hoping to damage whatever electronics I could. Next I took out the radiator and headlights with two shots. After I was done, I reached inside the car and popped the hood. I then went to work in the engine compartment, tearing off wires and hoses by hand. I put the one final shell to good use by shooting the large fuse boxes and control units located inside. That shotgun was out of ammo now so I threw it on the ground.
This car was going nowhere unless it was on the back of a tow truck.
October 22nd – Evening
The sun was starting its journey below the horizon, sending orange rays shooting along the sky like an array of spotlights. It wouldn’t take long before darkness came. Sarah was in a shocked daze, her eyes watching the rolling landscape as if under hypnosis. It was time to find a place to hole up so we could get some sleep. I saw the sign that we were approaching a little town called Speers. I drove on, looking for a suitable house.
As we neared the outskirts of the town , I could see several patches of black smoke against the horizon. Parts of the city looked to be on fire. We passed homes and businesses with open doors and shattered windows. Litter was strewn on the front lawns. I drove carefully, letting the truck slow to an idle.
“Sarah,” I said. “Keep your eyes open.”
She gave me a glance and still looked a little frightened. Seeing the way I had dealt with those two men and that car had made her a little wary of me. She finally replied, “I will, Tom.”
“We may run into some more bad men.”
“Those two didn’t seem to stop you.” Her tone was accusing, almost as if she expected me to turn the other cheek when confronted with the violence of others.
I cleared my throat. “We were lucky, Sarah. Lucky to have a truck that could go off-road. And we were fortunate that so-called cop and his friend fell into my trap. If you had a better way of getting out of that situation, you could have told me.”
“You didn’t have to shoot that policeman,” she said coldly.
“Yes I did. I will do anything to make sure nothing happens to you. Understand?”
Pouting, she turned her attention to look at the destroyed buildings passing by her window. After a moment of this, she finally said, “I just got scared, Tom.”
“You have to realize that times have changed. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you alive, Sarah.”
She flashed me a smile and any animosity between us was broken. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
I was about to say something in response but instead had to slam on the brakes. In front of us was a line of blackened and burnt cars stretched across the road. The corpses of a half-dozen men and woman were scattered around this blockade. A horde of black flies were taking whatever sustenance they could from the decaying bodies. In the low sun, glinting all along the blacktop I could see the brass glimmer of shell casings. It appeared that some sort of firefight had erupted here, leaving the defenders worse off in the engagement.
Sarah was staring at these new horrors, her face was pale with shock.
“Don’t look at them,” I growled.
I then nosed the truck forward through a narrow opening in the cars. I could see by the condition of the corpses that this had happened only a few days ago. My first inclination was to turn back and find another route, but the state of my gas tank – getting lower by the mile - and my own curiosity made me move forward.
The road widened out to two-lanes on each side. I rolled down the windows and listened. All I could hear was the gentle tick of my engine and the hush of rubber on asphalt. The homes and small business dotted along the side were burned out, the blackened wood of the windows staring at us like accusing eyes. Up ahead was a large grocery store, the lot empty. A car had been driven through the front doors. I idled past, waiting for the worst to happen. But there was nothing moving but garbage being blown by the wind.
We came to another line of cars across the road. This time the line of defense was smaller and appeared to have been hastily put together. Sprawled on the nearby embankment were two corpses, staring up at the sky with empty eye sockets. The looked as if they had been gnawed on by flies, leaving only skulls and bones.
The downtown would normally have been a teeming area of coffee shops, antique stores, and ice cream shops that catered to the tourist trade. Instead of tidy businesses and shiny cars, the road was choked with garbage and the stores has been burnt to empty brick shells. Here and there was a corpse, the skin turning black and leathery. The noise of my truck echoed balefully against the walls, the only sound other than the wind and the trash skittering along the ground. It felt like a graveyard here; the end of the old world.
In the center of town was a large park. At one time the grass would have been green and full, but now it was nothing but patches of brown dirt and sickly weeds. The once white gazebo was smashed beyond recognition. I mention these parts first because the other objects here were gruesome beyond description. I took my right hand and covered Sarah’s eyes since I did not want her to see the line of decaying corpses that had been crucified on rough wooden crosses. The insects had been busy here, leaving the faces eyeless and with white teeth glinting through lipless mouths.
“What is it?” Sarah said as she tried to free my hand from her face.
“Close your eyes,” I demanded.
“Why?”
“Just do it!”
“Okay,” she whimpered.
I pulled my hand away and gave the gas pedal a hard push. I could feel my teeth grinding together, wondering how men could do such things to each other. Once we were out of sight of those horrors, I slowed down again. I took a couple of deep breaths and swallowed the ball of phlegm that had collected in the back of my throat.
“What was it?” Sarah asked carefully, our delicate truce now broken again.
“Never mind,” I replied flatly. I thought it was a shame that someone so young had to experience such a violent world. Sarah would see so many terrible things in the days to come, but there was no reason she had to see it all now. She had already seen more than enough.
I took the next road heading south. This area appeared to be where the rich lived with gated entrances, wrought iron fences, and large lawns. Some of the houses were still smoldering, the last remnants burning like a dull ember. There were cars here too, lifeless and abandoned. I saw something that piqued my interest. I took the chance and decided to pull over. I shut the engine off but left the keys in the ignition.
“Stay here,” I told Sarah. “If I don’t make it back to the truck, I want you to get out of here as fast as you can. Do you think you can do that?”
She nodded, looking warily over our surroundings. “I’ll try.”
I went to the back of the truck and removed a plastic gas can, a length of tubing, a manual pump, a screwdriver, and the shotgun, which I cradled in my arm. With a quick jog, I headed to an intact house – more like a white mansion with a large
columned porch – where I had seen a BMW that looked to be in good condition. The reason I had picked this vehicle was the open driveway gate. Either someone had already been this way or they had left in haste.
The sun was gone now, leaving only a trace of light in the sky. I walked down the curving road, looking carefully over the ground for any sign of life. There were a number of footprints – more like imprints - in the gravel but I wasn’t a good enough tracker to tell how old they were.
I stopped at the car. The BMW was a newer model, black with a convertible top. The paint was dusty and the tires still pumped up. I looked around but didn’t see anyone. The empty windows of the house, however, seemed to be staring at me. I began to work as quickly as I could. Using the screwdriver I forced the locked gas door open, unscrewed the cap, and fit the tubing down the neck of the tank. I then hooked up the pump and began working it. Within a few seconds I had gasoline flowing into the can. I had been lucky. This rich person has been able to afford the ever increasing cost of fuel. I kept going until the gas can was full.
Night had come. Thanks to the light of the moon I could still see enough to get by.
As I closed the cap on the can and rolled up the tubing, I was beginning to feel proud of myself. But those thoughts of self-congratulation quickly disappeared when I heard a sound coming from the house. The front door, which was some twenty-five yards away, was opening. I stood up with the shotgun ready, a round chambered. Out of the entrance burst a figure – gaunt and white enough that the skin practically shone in the darkness. It – I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman – came straight toward me, screeching with an unnatural voice that I found unsettling.
“Stay back!” I shouted.
My warning was in vain. I could see this person better now. My mind flashed a few details – a woman with only a ripped skirt on, small breasts, wild black hair, and dark, shadowed eyes. She wasn’t stopping. She was only a few yards away now – hands outstretched. There was something wrong – an instinct told me that I was in danger. And this same instinct of self-preservation was strong enough that I pulled the trigger without thinking. There was a boom as the gun fired, breaking the silence of the night.
The Dead Are Sleeping Page 7