“They’re coming!”
“What are they?” asked Nathan. “I heard on the radio… Behind you!”
A man’s scream pierced the air.
“You have keys?” This was a new voice, frantic and harsh. “Give them to me!”
Nathan swung about, and the camera revealed a pair of black jeans.
“No! You can’t!”
“Give them!”
The struggle quickly escalated, and the camera fell to the pavement. The recording ended abruptly.
That was Nathan’s story, as complete and detailed as Briana and I could figure. He was awake and driving down the highway with his girlfriend Claire. Like over a billion others, she died only to come back minutes later, and she bit him. We don’t know where he was bitten, though an arm or hand seems the most likely. He didn’t bleed out, and Nathan was able to get away and keep driving, abandoning the woman, the thing he’d once loved on the side of the road.
Through his recording, unintentional though it was, we managed to hear the initial reports given during that first hour following the change. For this I am quite grateful. I’d always been somewhat of a news junkie, and hearing what was said did much to assuage my curiosity. It did Nathan little good. He stopped to help someone, maybe, and ended up murdered. His car had not been taken, and I have no idea what happened to the man who cracked his skull open. He might now be shambling about himself, or perhaps he’d run off. Personally, I’m hoping he came to a bad end, killing a kid for nothing, the bastard.
Chapter II
After passing the night in the Jeep – and let me tell you, sleeping upright in the front seat was every bit as uncomfortable as anticipated – Briana and I spent a half hour stretching and walking about, mostly in an attempt to get the blood circulating again. Additionally, I did my best to get cleaned up, having always hated that dirty, grubby feeling. Unfortunately, other than changing clothes, there wasn’t much I could do.
It was also somewhat disconcerting stripping in an open field with Briana standing a few feet away. Granted, we were back to back at the time. Basic modesty and not knowing one another was part of it. Positioning ourselves so we could spot any approaching zombies was even more persuasive. Those we’d seen, and what we learned from Nathan’s video, indicated the things are silent. They don’t moan or sigh, much less breathe. They just shamble along, moving directly toward their prey. If one comes from behind, there’s little to warn of its approach. Paying attention to your surroundings is extremely important.
After a quick breakfast of fruit and dry cereal, we got in the Jeep and slowly drove over the dirt and grass until we reached US-81 once more. We passed a few zombies, drawing close enough for a good look. They were definitely not rotting, and the sun didn’t seem to be having any effect on them either. I don’t have a clue how direct sunlight is supposed to affect dead flesh, but after being outside for several days I expected to see something.
The remainder of our morning passed without incident. Briana and I drove through several towns seeing plenty of shambling corpses, but no real people. There had to be numerous survivors though, individuals who’d taken the advice on the news and remained indoors. If so, none showed themselves, and we moved as slowly as I dared in case anyone attempted to get our attention.
“How far to the next one?”
“It’s about four more miles.” Briana had the road atlas on her lap, its usual place as she tried to keep herself occupied. “Wau... Waurika? I’m not sure on the pronunciation.”
“No idea. Another small one?”
She nodded. “Looks to be tiny Jacob. I don’t think it’ll be any different from the others we’ve gone through today.”
“Good enough. I want to keep moving. It’ll be nice to get someplace not quite so hot.”
Her green eyes twinkled. We both agreed Texas was a great place, the greatest of all the states – it was our home after all – but not if you lacked air conditioning. Yes, I can be a bit of a weenie at times.
As it turned out, the town was unlike those we’d traversed earlier. I followed the pattern of slowing once we neared the buildings and stayed on the highway as it passed through the center of Waurika, weaving in and out of the abandoned or wrecked cars that littered the road, doing my best to survey the area. Then Briana spotted a man standing atop a small convenience store roof. He looked at us. She looked at him and rolled down her window to wave. Instead of returning the friendly gesture, he lifted a pistol and began firing. I accelerated and swerved down a side street, out of view.
“That asshole!”
None of the bullets struck the Jeep, probably never came close. We were out of effective range when he started his rampage, but even so, it was very unnerving. I’d never had anyone try to kill me before, and while he theoretically might have been trying to just scare us off, I tend to think his true intention was murder.
“Calm down,” I ordered. My own knuckles, clenching the steering wheel, were bone white, and I was breathing hard.
“He shot at us!”
“I know this Briana. I was there too.” It was condescending and rude, but neither of us cared at the time. “We’ll be way past him soon enough.”
I turned onto another street which I hoped would lead us back to the highway. I didn’t want to be wandering about Waurika, not with that nut job lurking about.
She drew the .38 revolver I’d given her.
“Put that away.”
“What if he shoots at us again?”
“We’re too far away for that now. Can’t even see him anymore.”
She was undeterred. “He could try following us, might you know.”
That was a valid concern, though unlikely. The man had been standing on a roof surrounded by zombies. Even if he had direct access to a garage, the dead would have swarmed his car the moment he tried to exit.
“Keep an eye out just in case, and put the gun back in the holster. Me hitting a bump and you accidentally pulling the trigger would be beyond a little bad, don’t you think?”
“Fine. I want a bigger gun.”
“I’ll show you how to use the automatics later, when we have a chance and a wide open area to stop and practice. Once you know what you’re doing, you can carry one of them. Might be best if we found you a 9mm.”
“Why’s that?”
I glanced over at her. “Lighter weight and less kick. Tends to have a smaller grip too.”
She waggled her fingers.
“I know, not a problem.”
As tall as she was, Briana had proportionally long fingers and could easily manage any weapon we might come across.
“What about Fort Sill?” she asked, changing the topic.
The military base was in Lawton, Oklahoma. The highway took us past, well to the east.
“What about it?”
“Think it’s smart to go so far around? We could drive up and check things out.”
I hesitated. “I don’t know if it’ll be worth the effort.”
“Oh, and why’s that?”
We hadn’t discussed the military, beyond the brief speculation as to what caused the explosion in Denton.
“They’re probably mostly dead. Being nighttime, the soldiers would have been in barracks or base housing when the change hit. I think they would have suffered just as bad as everyone else, maybe worse if lots of them shared a room. And remember, it’s not like a war zone or Iraq. Their weapons would mostly be locked away in the armory. Troops on base, other than guards or those actively training, don’t carry guns. I know it sounds kind of counterintuitive, but they really don’t, safety and security issues.”
I’d initially thought to skip Fort Sill because I was certain it would either be empty or equipped with just a skeleton force. Any surviving soldiers would likely be pulled out to deal with Oklahoma City or to set up defensive lines to keep the zombies from spreading. That being the case, I didn’t want to risk getting stuck someplace that offered little or no safety. There had never been a
fear of dealing with renegade soldiers enslaving civilians or any other such nonsense. Those were movie plotlines, not reality, especially when you have a very professional, all volunteer force like the United States.
“That does make sense,” she admitted, a troubled look marring her pretty face, “but the guards would have been awake. So there would have been somebody ready to do something after it started. And anyone who did live would have gone to get the guns anyway.”
“That’s true. Let me think about this some more.”
* * *
“Helicopter!”
I hit the brakes. “Where?”
Briana was outside in a second, pointing. I joined her and could just make out the aircraft far to the west, heading away from Fort Sill. There was no way they’d seen us.
“Can we call them?”
“I don’t see how.”
“Think they’re running off or just doing army stuff?”
I glanced around to make sure the area was clear. “No way to tell, but maybe we can check some of the roads heading toward the base and see how it looks.”
The roads leading toward Lawton, Oklahoma and Fort Sill turned out to be in really bad shape. Thousands had tried to get there. Some of the cars were out of gas, more were wrecked, and enough were heading the opposite direction to indicate the installation had not been as safe or desirable as first believed.
“Want to try to get closer?”
Briana pulled on her long brown hair, pouting. “No. Even if we can, with the road all messed up like this, there can’t be that many people around. Maybe no one. And we haven’t seen any other helicopters, or anything at all.”
“Agreed,” I replied, not knowing what else to say and wondering if my predictions had been correct or if something entirely different had happened.
* * *
With mixed feelings, we were largely quiet until we hit Chickasha. There we left the relatively nice US-81 and took the much crappier State Highway 9, which headed west passing north of Fort Sill. This route was intended to keep us well away from Oklahoma City and the interstates that passed through it. Many of those fleeing the city would have taken these, and the zombies were certain to have followed.
It was on the outskirts of this small town that we passed another car. The driver gestured for us to stop, and with the less than pleasant experience earlier in the day fresh in our minds, as if it could be anything else, we pulled over with a fair amount of trepidation. I exited the Jeep but didn’t move forward. Briana did the same and took the extra precaution of keeping the vehicle between her and the strangers. A quick glance assured me she had one hand on the gun at her hip.
“How are you folk doing today?” I asked, after the three adults clambered out of their dusty Lexus.
They held back, not approaching, which was just as well. There was a man, late thirties maybe, dressed in a custom tailored suit, an expensive one. The circumstances made me question his sanity. He also had a shiny gold watch on his wrist. Interesting. Perhaps his image was somehow essential, psychologically speaking. The other two were women, both blondes, somewhere in their late twenties or early thirties. I’m lousy at estimating ages, so I could be off by quite a bit. They appeared to be related, probably sisters.
“As to be expected,” said one of the ladies, deadpan.
An appropriate response. I liked her immediately.
“Heading east?”
She nodded. “You’re going west?”
“Just for a short bit,” I explained, “then we’ll be cutting north again. I want to skirt Oklahoma City by a few hundred miles if possible.”
“Any idea how bad it is?” asked suit boy.
I was having trouble taking him seriously, even though it was a reasonable query.
“We haven’t been anywhere near it. The towns we’ve gone through south of here are mostly empty of people, except for Waurika where one guy sitting on top a roof took some shots at us when we drove by.”
“Damn asshole,” muttered Briana, under her breath.
“No people anywhere?”
“We’ve seen some on the roads, but not many. You three are the first to stop. Most keep going.”
The woman smiled. “We tried waving several down, but most just went by us too. You’re the second car that stopped to speak with us in the past two days. Anyway, do you have any idea where to go? A safe place?”
Briana snorted. “The entire planet’s wrecked.”
“I think I noticed that,” she snapped back, testily. “But really, have you seen or heard of anything at all?”
“Nothing,” I answered. “We caught some of the earliest news reports. Those said to stay inside. There was nothing about rescue centers, at least for Texas. We were on the north side of the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, way to the north actually, out of the cities proper. That was bad enough, so I’m thinking the big cities are far worse.”
“I was at a conference, slept late in the hotel and woke to all of this,” interjected suit boy. “Didn’t hear any real news at all. I met them later.” He gestured at the two women, which seemed a tad pointless since it was obvious who he was speaking about.
“We didn’t catch anything like that either,” added the talkative blonde. Her sister remained silent. “Janice and I were out camping and didn’t even know until we drove back home. We tried the radio and all after that, but other than telling us there were zombies...” She grimaced. “… we didn’t get much info. But we were in the south of Kansas at the time, and there were only a handful of stations we could even get normally.”
“I have no advice for you, sorry to say.” I wished I had something constructive to offer. “Fort Sill is just south of us, next to Lawton. We did see one helicopter earlier today, probably from there, that was moving west. The roads around the base are a mess with lots of cars abandoned. No people around, just a few zombies here and there, fewer than you’d expect.” I frowned. “At any rate, I think it was overrun, but we didn’t go any closer to check it out.”
“Why not?” asked suit boy.
“It was too damn creepy,” said Briana, “felt all wrong.”
She was right. There was something about it, beyond the obvious, that was bugging me. I didn’t want to go back.
The sisters began to whisper to one another, and the guy in his stylish wool suit quickly joined in. He was already perspiring heavily.
“We think we’ll try there, just to see,” said the woman.
“Good luck with that,” I offered, politely.
Briana rolled her eyes and got into the Jeep.
“Anything I should know about the road ahead?” I asked, pulling my own door open.
“It was clear for us,” she said, “other than wrecks and those things walking about.”
That was the first conversation I’d had with anyone other than Briana since this all began. Looking back on it, it had not been a meaningful exchange. None of us provided the others with worthwhile information. No one had any great revelations to share. Still, they didn’t shoot at us, and they didn’t threaten us, nor did they try begging or stealing. Overall, it went as well as one could reasonably expect.
* * *
“Still think they’re going to be eaten?” I asked, hours later.
We were parked in a field outside of Verden. I was setting up the laptop so we could watch a movie before attempting to sleep.
“The idiot in the suit is going to be eaten,” stated Briana, firmly. “No doubt about that one. The way he kept fiddling with his Rolex, he was all flash.”
I hadn’t realized it was a Rolex and wouldn’t have been able to tell unless I was close enough to see the logo, but I took her word for it.
“The ladies seemed competent.”
“The one who talked to you. Her sister, Janet…”
“It was Janice.”
“Janice then.” Briana did not like being corrected. She’d get over that with me around, or possibly murder me in my sleep. “She was a basket case.”
“You weren’t doing all that well when you showed up on my front door,” I pointed out.
“That is completely different. I’d been… It was bad that first morning when it happened, and I barely got away. I was tired and hurting and upset. Now, a few days later, I’m doing perfectly well.” She clearly thought about what she was saying and dropped her head.
“Everyone’s circumstances are going to be different. I lucked out with an easy start,” I began, picking my words carefully. “Others were not so fortunate. Who knows what happened to Janice. She was functional though. That’s a good sign, probably.”
“Well, yeah,” agreed Briana, “but hooking up with that poser.”
It’d been a while since I’d heard the term, and I wondered if it was still regularly used, along with how far removed from popular culture I might be.
“I didn’t like him all that much either.” I ran the cursor down the list of movies on my computer while Briana leaned over to see what I had. “They should have met someone much better, like me. At least I drive a practical car. A Lexus is not the best choice.”
“Far from it,” she laughed. “Meeting you was good luck on my part, more on yours since I’m fun to be around.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Briana was rapidly opening up, faster than I’d expected, and her company was pleasant.
* * *
The next morning, day six of the zombie apocalypse, was dreary and overcast. It was still hot of course, no way around that, but at least the sun wasn’t in our eyes. As usual, we slowed when approaching any towns, keeping an eye out for anything important, and, finally, we found something. A dozen people, mostly children, were perched atop a UPS truck surrounded by zombies. The monsters were pressed up close, reaching and straining with their arms and not coming anywhere close to being able to grab the huddled, cowering group. It would have been humorous if not for the fact the children were clinging to one another in stark terror.
Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary Page 5