Zombie Escape: More Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 1

by E. E. Isherwood

  “Dave seems alright,” she replied.

  “Exactly,” he snapped back. “That's why I have to stay and keep tabs on him. If he drives off with our guns and stuff, we're going to be stuck here. I want to get far away from that house.” He looked toward the horizon where the sun was almost ready to peak over the fields. The farmhouse wasn't visible from so far away, but he acted like it was right in front of them.

  “What are we talking about?” Liam said as he came up next to her.

  “Russ is going to keep watch while we go into the truck stop,” she replied.

  “Good. I'm not happy about--oh, hell.” Something caught Liam's attention because he looked beyond her and Russ.

  She traced his line of sight to what had him so agitated.

  “That's just great,” she said with sarcasm.

  “What?” Russ remarked as if not seeing anything worth the bother.

  Victoria pointed at the Humvee's and army guys standing at the edge of the truck stop property. A group of them had gathered near a giant billboard with the name of the truck stop and its red heart logo.

  “Yeah, so? That's awesome we have such good protection.” Russ pulled himself onto the bottom step of the big rig. “We can catch our breath while we're here because those dead people can't get us. Tell me when you guys are done because I might go inside and see what they've got.”

  Russ continued up the side of the truck and closed the door.

  Elise had been standing there the whole time, but Victoria wasn't sure if she'd heard any of what they'd said. The young woman looked longingly at the soldiers and only turned away from them when Victoria tapped her shoulder.

  “Hi,” Victoria said with a smile.

  “Oh, hi,” the young woman replied before turning right back to the soldiers. “Do you think they knew what was happening in that house? Did they leave us there to fend for ourselves?” She wrapped her arms around her t-shirt like she was hugging herself.

  “No,” Victoria said with assurance. “I bet they don't know what's happening anywhere outside of this truck stop. Liam and I have been all over between here and St. Louis and the army is losing the fight against the zombies. I bet they are scared to leave the protection of places like this.”

  “I don't know ... ” Elise replied as if not wanting to believe her words.

  Liam gently grabbed Victoria's arm and pulled her away.

  “We have to get in and out without any fuss. There are army guys walking around these trucks.” He tilted his head toward a pair of soldiers talking to a driver at a different gas pump.

  A long tractor trailer chose that moment to cross in front of where they looked. “Paper Clips” had been painted in big letters over the original shipping company.

  “You think we're in danger?” she asked with a touch of panic.

  Liam chuckled. “I should be glad these soldiers are on the line protecting us from the zombies, including that one that seems to be following us, but you and I have a history with government forces that I worry is going to never leave us alone.”

  “Maybe we should split up?” she asked, hopeful he'd disagree with her.

  They reached the door to the restaurant that was the anchor for the truck stop. Several grim men and a few women went in and out as they conducted their business of gassing up, paying for fuel, and eating an early breakfast. She let him lead her just out of the main path of people where they could have a final moment of privacy before entering the crowded interior.

  “I don't know how Elsa was on that radio, but if she is somehow alive I'd bet anything she is watching for us to turn up at places like this.” Liam looked up and around the complex. “I don't see any of her drones, but I'm sure they are out there. For now, all we can do is act normal.”

  “Like two teens on a road trip?” she asked in a bubbly voice.

  Liam pursed his lips and seemed to think on it. “More like two teens who can't help but put their hands all over each other and kiss multiple times for no reason at all.”

  “Liam Peters, is that your attempt at being sly?”

  She smiled and leaned in to give him nothing more than a quick peck on the lips but once committed she couldn't resist staying for a little extra.

  People started to notice them after about five seconds.

  “Don't feed the lizards, boy!” a random man cried out.

  “I've got a sleeper cab you can use,” someone else added.

  Then the wolf whistling caught like a virus and their private moment morphed into a big production.

  They quickly separated.

  “As I said, let's stay low-key.” Liam's voice was weighted with dry sarcasm.

  They both laughed it off, but she grabbed his hand to drag him inside and away from the scene of the crime.

  6

  The 80's music blasting out by the gas pumps was almost drowned out by the sounds of life inside the packed restaurant. The area at the front was a small sales floor where normally there'd be rows of candy, chips, and sodas, but all the shelves had been pushed aside to make room for more tables.

  “Nice,” Liam said.

  Sabella and her daughters had come in another door and stood by the women's room near the back of the restaurant. Victoria wanted to go back there as well, if only to clean up a bit with some warm water, but the smells of the truck stop made her aware how hungry she was.

  “I'm in Heaven,” she said.

  “I smell cinnamon buns,” Liam replied as if he was also gripped by the aroma.

  They cut through the crowd, so she could peek into the serving area. At one time it had been a chain fast food restaurant, but the signs had been ripped down and replaced with a cardboard placard that said “Eats.” The serving dishes behind the glass barrier sat under heat lamps.

  Her eyes probably bulged at the long line of different delicacies.

  “I want that and that and that,” Liam said to her as he pointed to the roast beef, potatoes, and one of the pies. “Then I want six buns and a heaping pile of butter for them.” Liam made a drooling sound while looking it all over.

  She designed a meal in her head consisting of as much of the cornucopia as she could envision, but her heart dropped when she saw the pricing sign on the rear wall.

  “Sold by the plate. $50 cash. No trades.”

  “Liam, do you have any money?” she said with great doubt because she was pretty sure he didn't.

  “Um. No.” Liam looked at the sign, too. “And there goes my stomach.”

  “I need to use the restroom now,” Victoria said with dejection.

  “Yeah, let's go.”

  She stomped through the crowd like someone had promised a birthday party but popped all her balloons and chucked the cake into the dumpster. Her nose refused to let go of the smells, and her stomach begged her to turn back around and somehow buy the food, but her eyes kept her going in the other direction.

  They strode past table after table of truckers indulging themselves on $50 per plate breakfasts. By the time they reached the back she considered begging for a bite of any of those delicacies.

  “I think this is what Hell is like,” she said as they reached the less busy area around the restroom doors. “So much food, and not a bite to eat.”

  “Hey, maybe Dave has some money we can borrow. All isn't lost, yet.” Liam's cheerful smile almost made her forget the temptations behind that glass. At the very least she took comfort that she wasn't suffering alone.

  “I'll meet you right back here in a few,” he said.

  “Race ya!” She made a huge effort to sound cheery.

  Outwardly, she didn't want Liam to worry about her, but inside she was crying. It wasn't just that the smells reminded her of her incessant hunger, because other than the canned goods last night, she seldom ate well anymore. Instead, the pleasant aromas smelled like the holidays back home. Not only was she missing the food here in this Love's travel stop, but she might never experience the joy of her mom's cooking back home in Colorado.r />
  She pushed through the restroom door and went right to the sink. She gasped at her appearance but slapped her hand over her mouth before she called unwanted attention to herself.

  Her face looked like she'd used an old campfire for a pillow. While up on the roof of the farmhouse she'd made a half-hearted effort to clean herself up, but the harsh fluorescent lights above the row of sinks revealed every piece of soot she missed.

  She turned on the water and began splashing it on her face. After doing that for a full minute, she came up for air.

  Better. I need a spa day.

  That made her think of her mom again. The pair of them often went into Denver and pampered themselves at a fancy salon and spa. They jokingly called it their, “day off,” from the stresses of their lives, but now she giggled to herself about how easy they had it. What she wouldn't give to be back home.

  While she thought about home, she tried to make herself remember to ask Dave if he'd gone through Denver recently.

  She splashed some more water on her face and tried to straighten her bangs. Susan had done a great job with the ponytail, but the rest of her head was a wreck. Bits of debris and dust found their way right down to her scalp. She didn't have the time or energy to get her hair wet. It had just dried from being in the river the previous day.

  There were no towels, so she had to dry her face using her shirt. She pulled it up and gave a quick scrub, and then went to the line for the stalls. Victoria sighed deeply and appreciated that none of the others seemed to care what she'd just done.

  The ladies standing around didn't scream out that they were rough and tumble truckers. Maybe they were a little rough around the edges, with a few more tattoos, cigarettes, and cleavage than the average restaurant back home, but inside the bubble of the restroom she could imagine this was a busy day at a perfectly normal eatery, and not a truck stop at the edge of the apocalypse.

  When it was her turn she found herself near tears as she continued to dwell on how normal everything seemed. Women thanked each other for holding the door, they passed road information as they stood at the sinks, and shared knowledge about their big rigs that came across as a mix of womanly advice and burly trucker lingo.

  They spoke of reward points on their fuel cards, quality and safety of the showers at the truck stop, the flirtations of the soldiers, and the lack of need to weigh and report their loads to the Department of Transportation. She also caught on that two women were talking quietly in the stall next to her.

  “Did you do it with him?” the woman asked.

  “Ew. No, sis. That's gross,” the other replied.

  “Then why did he get in the truck with you?”

  Victoria looked below the partition and saw two sets of work boots in the adjacent stall.

  “I promised I'd let him cop a feel if he told me what it did.”

  “You said you didn't let him touch you.” The other woman seemed miffed.

  “Damn it, Delaney, you aren't listening to me. The lock isn't right, and I had to find out why. As soon as I walked around back to check my tandem, the inspector was all over me. I couldn't tell why until I got around to checking the rear doors. They wanted me away from that lock.”

  “Why?” the other woman named Delaney asked in a voice almost too low for her to hear.

  “Are you going to complain how I made him tell me?” the first one said.

  A toilet flushed, and Victoria was sure she was going to miss the answer, but the woman continued to speak once the noise faded.

  “ ... just let him feel up my shirt. No big deal.”

  Victoria guessed the woman felt guilty for what she'd done, and she could empathize with her, but she really wanted her to just spill the beans.

  “And?” the other woman said expectantly.

  Delaney continued. “We have to get that lock off as soon as we can, but that's going to be harder than hell because they put a tracker in it. If the lock is opened, they'll come to investigate.”

  “Shit, girl, does anyone know what we're carrying?”

  “No, but you saw how important it was they keep the zombies behind those barricades for the pickup. It has to be important, probably really valuable.”

  “Hells bells. We've got to find out.”

  “You want me to do it with my shirt on or off?”

  The other woman spoke so softly Victoria had to lean her ear right up against the metal partition to catch it all.

  “There's a rumor going around we are carrying all the gold from Fort Knox. Some drivers are planning on making a break for it and living on the gold until the world gets back to normal.”

  Delaney didn't miss a beat. “So, we'll do this shirt off, then.”

  Both women laughed.

  Caught With the Pin-up Girl

  Liam came out of the restroom and found he had beaten Victoria. He'd even taken an extra few seconds to wipe off his face in the sink and slick back his filthy hair.

  Not wanting to go far, he stood against the wall to both wait for her and watch for trouble. He felt naked without a gun, but as far as he could tell none of the other people carried guns, either. At least, not openly.

  While he held up the wall, a pair of attractive middle-age women rushed by. They both wore tight jeans and heavy leather boots, but also wore loose-fitting blouses that did nothing to hide their bras. One seemed to drag the other by her hand as they went into the ladies' room. He tried to guess whether they were drivers or locals, but also considered whether they were passengers or even slaves. His mind went down the rabbit hole of possibilities fueled by all the end-of-the-world books in his inventory. Women, it seemed, always got the worst of things when civil society broke apart and now he was watching it all happen in real time.

  His curiosity ran rampant, but the women were long gone before he thought to ask them about their station. Someday he was going to write a book about his adventures and it would be great to interview women like that, for some local flavor. To kill the time, he tried to imagine the stories of other people walking in and out, but he didn't dare ask them.

  We're in a truck stop surrounded by zombies. How much more do you need?

  He hid his smirk lest anyone think he was there to cause trouble.

  For the next several minutes he avoided eye contact and tried to make himself disappear in the hallway. The crowd was mostly unshaven men rushing in and out of the bathroom. When finished, they often fast-walked right out the front door like their trucks were going to leave without them.

  Victoria finally came out, but she was pale white like she'd seen a horrible murder.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Come on. We have to go.” She grabbed his hand and pulled but stopped before he'd taken his first step. “You did your business, didn't you?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I did my transaction, thanks. Took you long enough.”

  “There are only a few stalls,” she replied as she pulled him for real this time. “And I waited extra to listen to a pair of women talk about their mysterious cargo.”

  He spoke in a low voice. “Is that some kind of sex term people use in these nasty public restrooms?”

  Victoria looked over her shoulder with a scowl. “Just come with me. We've got to get back to the truck and talk to Dave.”

  “I'm ready to go,” he added. “I'm never going to forget the smell, though. That bakery smell needs to be bottled and sold for less than fifty lousy bucks.”

  “From sex to food. You sound like a typical teen boy when you aren't in mortal danger.” Victoria let herself laugh but he could tell she was strained.

  “What is it? Why are we leaving so fast?”

  They walked out the front doors and the crowd thinned out considerably as drivers headed off in different directions on the huge parking lot. Trucks continued to come in and go out the front entrance like an organized parade. They came in from the highway to the left, circled the restaurant reverse clockwise, went through the gas pumps, and then exited and got b
ack on the roadway to the right. The interstate was two hundred yards in that direction.

  When they were away from most of the drivers, she stopped him.

  “The trucks are carrying something dangerous. I overheard a couple of drivers explain how the locks have trackers in them and cannot be opened until each truck gets to their destination.”

  “So, what is it?” he answered. “Has anyone been able to look?”

  “Rumor has it they're carrying gold from Fort Knox. The women, uh, tried to get one of the inspectors to tell her for sure, but all she learned was that the locks double as trackers.”

  “Gold? Maybe, but that sounds far-fetched. Fort Knox is in Kentucky, isn't it?”

  She shrugged. “Yes?” Her geography was passable, but most of it was based in Colorado where she lived most of her life.

  “That would be nice, I guess, but gold wouldn't do anyone much good right now. Plus, why would they move it all over the country instead of guarding it in a fortress? Did they give you any other clues?”

  “No, at least the women didn't say while I listened. It felt like they'd just gotten this information when they ran in there.”

  “How'd she get him to tell her all that?” he asked.

  Victoria bit her lip in a very girlish fashion, as if thinking of the proper answer in math class.

  “She used her body,” she said simply.

  It took him half a minute to think it through. “I see. Well, um, if she didn't hear it for sure, I'd say gold is out. I think it more likely to be related to what happened in Cairo, like maybe explosives, vials of the virus, or my personal favorite, guns.”

  Victoria got excited. “I saw tons of bottles in that little outbuilding back at the farm. Russ's mom said the CDC gave them to her. It would make sense that she had them because she lived so close to the loading area.”

  He snapped his fingers and met her eyes.

  “They figured it out,” he said with excitement. “They had someone making the vaccine out here in the middle of nowhere so that the plague couldn't ruin the production before they could make enough of it. What better place would there be?”

  Victoria spoke slowly. “And it would make sense they wouldn't want these drivers to crack into the back of the trucks. Dave said some drivers were stealing their payloads. One of these trucks could be worth ... whatever people are willing to pay for them.”