Bruce interrupted, “Tom, we’re about full here. Better shut off the pump.”
Tom nodded, shut the pump down, and eased down to the ground. He disconnected the hose, then started pulling the siphon hose up out of the tank, slowly coiling it back in the rack, cussing as diesel spilled all over him. He finally got all the hose up and racked, then checked to make sure the tank cap was firmly replaced, then looked up at Bruce. “Think you can come down now. We’re done. As soon as Hoppy and Ace get ready, we can get out of here and head back for the ranch. I’d like to get their ranch tanks topped off today, if we can.”
Bruce looked around then yelled, “Hoppy, let’s do it! We’re finished. Grab your folks and let’s hit the road.”
Hoppy waved and started across the parking lot with two boxes, carrying them awkwardly as he juggled them and his rifle, finally dropping one and kicking it across the lot to the semi. “There ya go, old man. There’s your junk food.”
Tom clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for takin’ care of me, Hoppy. It’s always been us’ns against them.”
Hoppy laughed, and turned toward their truck. “Always has been, always will be us cowboys against the managers…”
“Hey, did you check for coffee, or tea, or sugar, any of that stuff?”
“Damn, forgot all about it.”
Tom turned to Bruce, “You need to go check, you know that stuff is on our search list. Hoppy and I will stand guard.”
Bruce grumbled, “Okay, I’m going…”
***
Back on the I-40 overpass, Billy whimpered in the back seat of the 3500 as another runner scrabbled at the window. “What do I do?”
Micah glanced over. “Nothing. She can’t get in and…” A shot sounded overhead from the bed of the truck and the female zomb fell away. “They are taking care of them from up top.” Keying the CB, he asked, “Anybody seeing any more runners?”
A round of “Nope, shamblers only, a couple moving a little fast,” was about all.
Micah banged on the top of the cab. “How much longer y’all want to shoot?”
Tommy yelled back, “Down to two mags. Probably time to go. There are shamblers, but not many of them and it’ll take them a while to get here.”
Micah keyed the CB. “Okay folks, let’s roll out of here. Who’s got the Vet?”
“David, from Box H, we’ve got him. You lead, we’ll follow.”
“Okay, let’s roll. Jake, you okay to go straight to the warehouse? We’ll take the other four trucks and hit the pharmacies and meet y’all there.”
Jake revved the big diesel. “On the way. I’ll bust through them, y’all get on my tail.” With that, he let the clutch out and rumbled through the few remaining shamblers in front of him, as the other trucks fell in line behind the trailer.
A quick pass at the Walgreens got almost nothing in the way of any useful drugs. The pharmacy counter was completely wrecked, and the entire store stank of zombs. They pulled into the United grocery, not hoping for much, but found that the pharmacy counter had been secured. It took a few minutes with bolt cutters, pry bars, and good old fashioned breaking and entering, but they did get in and Darryl, the old veterinarian, grabbed three shopping carts full of medications and various other things, like needles and bits and pieces, cackling and laughing the whole time.
Micah and the others fanned out in pairs, searching the aisles for consumables that were always a priority, toilet paper, salt, pepper, spices, tea and coffee, sugar and flour. The store wasn’t in bad shape, and they were able to load up plenty of buggies, but Micah had to call a halt before they overloaded the trucks, since they still had to get people in there too. Billy stayed close to Micah and Tommy, eyes wide, as he looked for things he hadn’t seen in almost a year. He saw a display of Kool-Aid and asked, “Can we get some? Please? We like Kool-Aid.”
Micah sighed, knowing there wasn’t enough sugar to do it often, but said, “Go ahead. It’s not something we’ll be able to have every day, but it will be a once-in-a-while treat, okay?”
Billy nodded enthusiastically, pawing through the display and filling his pockets with as many packets as he could.
As they headed out the front of the store, Billy and Tommy both saw the candy bars on the aisle cap and looked back at Micah. He rolled his eyes, but said, “You’ve got to get enough to share with Olivia and Bonnie and the rest of us.”
The boys were whispering back and forth until Micah said, “Three, two…”
They grabbed double handfuls of candy and followed Micah out of the store and hopped back into the cab as the rest of the crew loaded the back of the truck with the consumables. David walked over, “Micah, we’ll bring Darryl by y’all’s place on the way back so he can get a look at the old man and see if the meds will work for him, if that’s okay with you.”
Micah nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I guess we’d better get down to the warehouse and pull security, and help the working party before they get all irate about us just ‘ridin’ around’ up here.”
David laughed. “Yep, there is that… I kinda like getting fed.”
Micah yelled, “Mount up! Let’s head to the warehouse! Working party, ho!”
***
The trucks rumbled back across the cattle guard, pulled around to the barn and backed up to start off-loading the supplies they’d picked up. Micah got down and stretched, passing his rifle to Tommy, and told Billy, “Go take Mr. Darryl to your grandpa, okay?”
Billy nodded. “Yes, sir.” He trotted over to the veterinarian, tugged at him and led him toward the house. Dot came out of the house, saw them coming and turned quickly back into the house, which caught Micah’s attention.
“Tommy, let’s go stow our rifles first, okay?”
Tommy shrugged. “Okay.”
Micah walked quickly across to the house, turned down the hall, and caught up with Dot. “What’s going on?”
Dot cocked her head, saying softly, “The old man didn’t make it. He asked for a piece of pie at lunch, and I served him one. I went back in the kitchen to finish cleaning up and heard a thump.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, shit. He got two bites and had a massive MI. Cherie and I gave him CPR for a while, but…”
“What about the girl, Bonnie?”
“She was hysterical. I gave her a big dose of Benadryl, and got her and Olivia in their room. We’ve been checking on her, but…”
They both turned when they heard a high-pitched scream, “NO, nooooo…”
Micah shook his head. “I guess Billy just got told.” They heard running feet, and a door bang, and Micah turned to Tommy. “Go find him, right now! Stay with him, and carry your gun. Get him back here by dark, understand?”
Tommy’s eyes got big at the tone of voice, but he said meekly, “Okay. What do you want me to do?”
“Stay with him. Don’t let him do something stupid. You know how you felt when your momma and daddy died, so you can try to talk to him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now go.”
Tommy went out the door on a run, and Dot leaned into Micah’s shoulder, “Where does it end?”
He hugged her, saying quietly, “I don’t know Dot, I just don’t know…”
***
Cherie Crane of the Rocking C, Sheriff Coffee, Brad Harmon of the Box H, and Mike James of the Diamond J sat in the kitchen at the Diamond J, drinking coffee as they waited for the veterinarian Darryl to come in. Everybody had their respective notebooks by their chairs and Cherie was idly drawing a set of curves and doodling numbers on one page when Darryl finally came in. “Sorry I’m late. Peterson’s kid’s got the flu again. Thankfully, I was able to get some Z-pacs at United, so I’m going to use them while they’re still good. I’m not sure how long most of the stuff I’ve got is good for, but as long as I’ve got it, I’m going to dispense it.”
The sheriff said, “Well, that’s some good news. Lemme go over what I’ve got. As of today, I can account for 238 people, scattere
d over a little over 3600 square miles. That’s up two since last week, with the two kids at the Rocking C. There do seem to be less shamblers out and about, but I’m not going poking into buildings to see if they’re dying in there.”
Cherie said, “So there is some merit to what the Eaton Rapids guy, Joe, is saying?”
The sheriff shrugged, “I can’t put empirical data on it, but, yeah, I think so. Most of the shamblers left are females, which matches what he’d predicted. Women need less calories per day than men do, assuming the same levels of effort. If we get ninety percent death rates, figuring that the total population, less Potter County, is a little over 33,000, then we’re coming up on almost 30,000 deaths. And that will repeat until there is no one left…”
Brad chimed in, “Well, as few of us as there are…”
Mike replied, “Yeah, 238 of us against the world. That’s not a winning proposition. Stuff is breaking down, we’re all tired, all the time.”
Darryl said, “Well, we’re 238 healthy people. That is a huge difference. Granted we’ve got a significant age range, what, twelve to? I’m 64 and I’m probably the oldest one here. Oh, speaking of that, there will soon be at least one addition to that number.”
Everyone looked at Darryl expectantly. “David and Melaina.”
Brad asked, “Which David?”
Darryl rolled his eyes. “Your David, and Mike, your Melaina. So I guess y’all are going to be combining spreads.”
Cherie coughed to hide a laugh at the expressions on both Brad and Mike’s faces. It was obvious they didn’t have a clue that their kids had gotten together, much less made a baby. But that did lead her down the path of Tommy and Olivia, and Billy and Bonnie. They were the four youngest kids, and their prospects weren’t really great.
Sheriff Coffee said, “Well, congratulations to them, and now back to issues. The roads are going to shit. Bridges are getting washed out, and the dirt roads are degrading way too fast for us to maintain them.”
Brad shrugged. “Well, considering how hard it is to get diesel and propane, much less tires and maintaining vehicles, it may not make much difference.”
Mike replied, “That’s why we’ve been breeding the horses like we have. Granted we don’t have any draft horses, at least not yet, but they’re going to be the lifeline going forward.”
Cherie added, “True, but once we lose the propane truck and capability, we’re back to cooking with wood, which we don’t have in abundant supply. Matter of fact, we’re going to have to start rationing some things, among them coffee and tea, pretty quickly. We’ve hit a gold mine with the restaurant warehouse in Amarillo, but even with that, supporting all the folks that we are isn’t making me happy for the long term. We’ve all got gardens in, and doing what we can for food storage, but I’m guessing two, maybe three years and it’s going to get really rough. I’m just thankful we’ve got as big a group as we do, otherwise I don’t see how we’d be making it, not with the security issues, having to search for things, and just daily maintenance. We’d be lucky to be doing as well as our great-grands were when they settled this place. I can’t imagine what those survivors in the towns and cities are doing!”
Brad laughed, “Well, they aren’t eating steak as much as we are, that’s for sure.”
Everyone laughed at that, but Cherie’s point had struck home.
Wesley came charging into the kitchen. “Boss, looks like we got a problem coming.”
Brad turned sharply, “What’s coming, Wesley?”
“Three trucks, coming from 287, just stopped at the big gate. Coupla guys got out, went around the gate and walked down a ways. I’m guessing to the top of the hill where they could see the house.”
“Armored up?”
Wesley shook his head. “Didn’t look like it. I’m guessing some raiders, maybe from down around Wichita Falls, the way they come from.”
Sheriff Coffee stood. “Show me the video. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
All of them got up and trooped down to the library-cum-radio-room and security station. They saw two Mexicans come back into camera range and ten more people get out of the four trucks. The sheriff said, “Brad, can you deploy some folks right quick in your truck beds? I got a feeling this one is gonna go bad.”
Brad nodded and hurried from the room yelling, “Reaction team up! I need nine, now!” A clatter of running feet punctuated the call as Brad made for the gun room.
The sheriff turned to Cherie and Mike. “You agree?”
They both nodded. “Not the first time we’ve been through this shit,” Mike replied.
Cherie said sadly, “Why? What do they think they’re doing?”
“Dunno, Cherie. Hell, it’s been about four months since that last bunch came bombing through here. You took ’em out before we could even get there.”
Cherie laughed. “Well, given the LEO response time out here, John…”
“Moi? I was coming as fast as I could!”
“Yeah, but you were all the way up by Clarendon. Running balls to the wall it still took you almost thirty minutes.”
Wesley interrupted, “Here they come.”
The sheriff turned to Darryl. “You ready to maybe have a little business?”
“I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”
The sheriff nodded, saying, sotto voce, “Neither do I.” He led the way out of the library, walking quickly toward the front of the house and out onto the porch, grabbing his hat on the way. He looked at the arrangement of vehicles, then calmly stepped around to put himself clear of the house and in the best position for covering fire from the trucks he hoped Brad had manned up.
The four trucks came charging into the ranch yard, sliding to a stop and the sheriff realized they weren’t armored at all. Just plain three-quarter and one-ton crew cab pickups, jacked up and running big tires and wheels. All of the tires and wheels looked brand new, which told him these were pure raiders, taking what they wanted whenever they wanted.
A bigMexican with long, greasy hair and moustaches climbed out of the driver’s seat of the first truck, casually slinging an AR-15 over his shoulder and setting a hand on a pistol on his hip. His other hand rested on what looked like a cheap copy of some big fighting type knife, sticking out of a holster on the off hip. The man swaggered over, stopping a couple of feet in front of the sheriff, and smiling.
Cherie noticed that the man overtopped the sheriff by probably five or six inches, but Coffee didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by the big man. She eased her rifle around the window frame, staying back behind the curtains so they couldn’t see any movement, as she took a sight on the big Mexican’s nose. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about hitting the sheriff if this went as bad as they thought.
The big Mexican made a hand signal, and the rest of the men climbed down from the rigs, ARs and pistols in their hands, not saying a word, but obviously looking around in wonder. The big Mexican finally said, “So, Sheriffmans. You know there ain’t no law no more?”
The sheriff replied, “Round here, I’m still the duly elected law. And I enforce it. What do you want?’
The Mexican laughed. “Anything we want to take, that’s what we want! Women, booze, food, we take…”
The sheriff did a speed-rock draw, firing three rounds from his 1911 into the big man’s belly, then grabbing and spinning him as a shield, shooting over him and taking down one of the others that started charging him. Seconds later, all twelve of the men were down and dead. Cherie realized she’d never even gotten a shot off. Shrugging, she safed her AR and walked slowly out the door as Brad and the others climbed down from the armored truck beds.
Brad asked, “Everybody okay?” There were nods all around, and Darryl came out of the house, medical bag in hand.
“Don’t think we need you, unless you want to pronounce them, Darryl.”
“I’ll do it anyway, need the practice.”
The crew was going through the pickups and throwing trash and other co
ntents out on the ground when Riley suddenly yelled, “Holy shit! Brad, Darryl, er… Sheriff, y’all need to… Mrs. Crane. Oh, my God.”
That brought everyone running to the back of the pickup, where Riley had raised a bedcover. Blinking in the light were three young girls, badly beaten and obviously in poor shape.
Cherie didn’t even think twice, handing her rifle to the sheriff and climbing into the bed, making soothing sounds as the girls cowered against the front of the bed in the little nest they had. Cherie almost gagged from the stench coming off them, but continued to speak quietly as Brad went and got his wife, and a couple of the other women.
A half hour later, Brad and the others were back around the kitchen table, and Mike turned to the sheriff. “John, what set you off? It didn’t seem to be… Well, I didn’t see anything…”
The sheriff leaned back, rolling the coffee cup between his hands as he looked up at the ceiling. “I was watching his eyes. I saw them dilate, and saw him starting to lean in. I knew he was starting to make his move, and I just short-cutted him. I can’t tell you how I knew, other than 30 years in law enforcement, but I wasn’t going to let him get the upper hand.”
Brad nodded. “Glad you did. I didn’t relish a shootout, but at least this ended well for us. Not so much for them, though.”
Cherie thought, Hard men. John’s not really that cold-blooded that he enjoyed killing that guy, but he did what needed to be done as soon as he saw it. Thank God for that. I guess it’s a sign of these times that we’re sitting here calmly discussing killing twelve functional adults without turning a hair, or a single regret. Maybe it’s because of those girls, too.
As they discussed the plight of the girls, who had been taken from a little town south of Fort Worth after the others in their survivors’ group had been killed, the sheriff looked around. “Two-hundred forty-one. Question is, who’s got room for them?”
Cherie grimaced. “Well, I guess we can take them, but I’m out of room.”
Brad nodded and Mike said, “Well, I’ve got room, but I’ve got no teens, or single females. At least if you take them, there is somebody near their age.”
Apoc Series (Vol. 1): Whispers of the Apoc [Tales From The Zombie Apocalypse] Page 6