by Brown, TW
Just before he stepped up on the curb that ran along the length of the place, the Bergmans—led by Angela—came strolling out of the tinted glass door like they were on a Sunday outing. To her credit, it was Ruth who took immediate stock of the situation. She urged the others to make for the vehicles.
By some amazing stroke of luck, everybody made it back—the women with arms full of grocery bags—and they were quickly back on the road. There was a considerable amount of arguing in the firetruck. Darrin and Angela were almost nose-to-nose like a big league manager and an umpire jawing over who was indeed the biggest idiot. In the U-Haul, Ruth was only minimally apologetic.
“I understand things were a bit uncoordinated back there,” she spoke in level tones, but it was curt enough to have Kevin on edge. “We needed some supplies that you boys failed to load up on. Granted, we lacked the haste we should’ve had in the situation.”
“We have food, water, weapons,” Kevin ticked the items off on his fingers, “I fail to see where we’ve been negligent in our preparation. We have basic first aid stuff, blankets, even some luxuries like books and music.”
“And just what exactly do you have by way of feminine necessities?” Ruth asked.
“Feminine necessities,” Kevin nodded. Of course! It hadn’t occurred to him—or the others most likely—that there were certain hygiene requirements that Ruth, Angela, Shari, and Erin would require. He could see in the large bag she had placed at her feet between her knees every single item that made guys squirm at the checkout stand of the grocery store with their wife or girlfriend…or mother.
“Good thing more women weren’t on the roads.” Ruth pulled out a box of tampons and waved them at Kevin.
“Okay! Okay! I get it!” Kevin exclaimed, clearly uncom-fortable.
“Price check on register-six for Playtex Pearl Tampons,” Ruth affected a nasally voice and shouted out her rolled down window.
They shared some laughs and were still having an okay time of it, all things considered, when the rest area came into view and Mike announced that they would make camp. That was when Kevin realized he hadn’t seen any walking dead for a bit.
They pulled into the abandoned facility, the arguments coming from the firetruck making both he and Ruth glance at the other with raised eyebrows.
“You pull another stunt like that and I will leave you and your daughters, pregnant or not, to fend for yourselves! And I think we all remember how successful you were last time.” Mike climbed down from the firetruck and walked straight towards the only zombie present—a rather hideous looking biker missing its left arm. Fortunately there was no motorcycle helmet to complicate things. He swung his spiked baseball bat and put it down. By then, Darrin was at Mike’s side and the two stomped into the open restrooms. Not much more was said by anyone the rest of the evening. Ruth joined her mom and sisters, and that had been it. Kevin spent his silent evening contemplating the box of condoms he’d seen in the bag of “feminine necessities.”
A brilliant flash to the west yanked Kevin’s mind back to the present. On the horizon, a dull orange glow shone like the trailing seconds just after sunset. It was focused in an area that, if he extended his arm and made a fist, was just over a handswidth wide. Something substantial had just blown up.
Whatever it was would be far enough away not to be a concern. Still, it would likely alter their plans. It had to be Columbus. A fire that size would not only draw zombies for miles, it would also mobilize any in the area. In short, it would be chaos.
He walked over to the U-Haul and pulled out his trusty AAA Road Atlas. If they swung north, they could take some state-route roads up and around. There would be an extra day’s travel through the boondocks where fuel might be sketchy, but they could come down the other side of the Hoover Reservoir and resume their trek via the interstate with what would hopefully be little complication.
With the rising sun came the eventual stirrings. By then, a large black smudge of smoke could be seen rising high into the sky. Nobody seemed to have any arguments about his proposed route change, not even Darrin who seemed to make it a point to find fault with anything he’d offered up in the way of suggestions since Wheeling.
There was still a lot of tension in the air. That, Kevin thought, is why nobody is arguing with me. After a breakfast of canned fruit and dry cereal, washed down with the previous night’s boiled water, it was time to go. Kevin climbed into the cab of his truck to discover both Ruth and Shari waiting.
“I can’t take another day of the constant arguing,” Shari said as she folded her arms across her chest, daring Kevin to protest in any way.
“Okay.” He turned over the engine and, after a glance back to ensure everybody was ready to roll, headed out onto the highway.
***
“There’s one of those phony-ass campgrounds just ahead.” Kevin pointed to the gaudy orange and brown sign at the top of the small ridge bordering the right hand side of the road.
“I don’t think anybody feels much like camping,” Shari muttered. She was sick of being ignored. All morning Kevin and Ruth carried on talking to each other like she wasn’t even there. She wasn’t used to being left out, and especially by boys.
“We won’t be staying,” Kevin laughed. “But, if my guess is correct…” his voice trailed off as he glanced across to Ruth who was nibbling on her lower lip and nodding. He noticed she did that nibbling thing whenever she was thinking seriously. He found it kinda sexy.
“RVs.” Ruth rubbed her hands together in anticipation.
“Yep,” Kevin agreed. “We could travel much more comfortably.”
“And not have to sleep outside?” Shari’s eyes closed with a look of ecstacy.
“Next town we reach, Newark I think, we could maybe dredge up some stuff to toughen the rigs up a bit,” Kevin said.
“Like in Stripes?” Shari asked, determined to stay in the conversation. As soon as she said it, she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. She certainly wasn’t doing anything to lessen the idea that she was little more than eye-candy with a pretty singing voice. She focused her gaze straight ahead and waited for the laughter.
“Well…” Kevin paused and Shari waited with dread for the condescending comment she knew was coming. “We probably won’t have the cool flame-thrower or the computers. But, basically,” Kevin flashed a sincere smile and nodded, “yeah.”
Ruth patted her sister’s shoulder. Shari glanced over and saw an approving smile. She faced forward again, feeling a warmth on her cheeks. She was actually blushing.
“Ruth, get on the radio and let ‘em know what we’re thinking,” Kevin said in a clipped tone that made it clear this was not going to be a topic open for debate.
Ten minutes later, a U-Haul and a firetruck pulled up to the gatehouse of Rory’s D-LUX Kampgrounds and RV Park.
The good news was that there didn’t appear to be too many of those things wandering about. The bad news was that there were, at best, only a few useable rigs to choose from.
“One for everybody?” Shari glanced back and forth between her sister and Kevin. “Everybody but Erin that is, and she can’t drive anyways.”
“We should probably stick to three at the most,” Kevin said, watching an old man who’d probably had trouble walking before becoming a zombie struggle to get around the lowered arm of the entry-gate.
“Why?” Shari struggled to keep the whine out of her voice.
“Those things eat up a lot of gas,” Kevin answered.
“It’s not like we have to worry about a fuel shortage or how expensive gas is,” Shari argued.
“No, but we do have to worry about them.” He gestured to the handful of undead stumbling their direction. “Every time we stop to fill up, we risk getting nipped.”
Ruth noticed Shari seem to sink down in her seat. She knew that her sister had been frustrated all morning. Quite frankly, she had taken a little satisfaction in the fact that this guy was obviously not starstruck, and seemed more interested in h
aving intelligent conversation than in oogling her more famous sibling. Still, she’d seen a change in Shari since their rescue a few days back. She seemed to actually relax and find relief in not being “Teen-Queen, Shari Bergman” anymore.
“Hang on.” Kevin instinctively put an arm across the front of Ruth and Shari. Stomping on the gas pedal, he launched the U-Haul forward. The reflective-striped arm of the entry-gate exploded into splinters and the old man went flying uncere-moniously through the air.
Kevin pulled into the open grass of a now hard to make out baseball field. Darrin pulled up alongside, and everybody poured out of the two vehicles. Angela and Erin were the only ones not brandishing a weapon.
Ruth looked tentatively at a rather large man wearing the remnants of a softball jersey—Sam’s Softserve Softballers—as he stumbled towards her, arms outstretched and mouth open. She held a spiked baseball bat cocked back like she was at the plate.
“Swing down onto the top of its head,” Kevin called as he moved towards an elderly couple. “Pretend it’s a game. Don’t think of it as human. And don’t be scared. This is just a big three-dee video game.”
“I hated video games,” Ruth said through clenched teeth.
He was only a few steps from her, and paused with his longsword just for a moment. He wanted to see how she handled her first target. Ruth raised her weapon above her head and brought it down hard. Softball Player seemed to look up at the last second. The steel spikes drove through face and forehead without prejudice. It dropped to its knees and then collapsed face first…snatching the bat from Ruth’s hands.
Old Man and Old Woman reached out, hands pawing at Kevin’s arm. He shoved them backwards, watching Ruth shake her left hand in obvious pain. Two more zombies were closing from Ruth’s side, one in black, blood-crusted coveralls, missing his right and left arm from just above the elbows. The other was a young girl in pigtails. Her chest cavity had been torn open, ribs jutted out obscenely—advertising what had to have been a particularly gruesome death.
Old Man was reaching for his sleeve. Kevin drove the tip of his blade up through the underside of its jaw until he felt a momentary resistance which would be the top of the inside of its skull. A quick pull, and the blade came free. One more backhand motion removed the top third of Old Woman’s head.
Ruth cried out, Kevin spun fearing he’d not dispatched his two quick enough. He needn’t have worried. Ruth was already pulling a long-bladed buck knife free from where it had driven into the top of Pigtail’s head. Coveralls was already down, head cleaved at an angle from the left ear and out the right side of its mouth, Shari standing over the corpse with a mix of pride and awe etched on her face. Both of her hands clutched the machete with a white-knuckled fierceness.
“Hand still stings from having the bat wrenched from it,” Ruth said, wincing a bit and shaking the hand again as she walked over to stand next to Kevin.
“Forgot to mention to pull back after delivering the blow,” Kevin apologized.
“Thanks,” Ruth said flatly. “C’mon, sis.”
Side-by-side the trio moved in to confront the rest of the undead inhabitants of the RV Park. Darrin and Mike were likewise engaged. Meanwhile, Angela and Erin seemed to simply drift in the wake of the deaths. Occassionally, they would yell and point.
Twenty minutes later, the park was clear of any free-roaming undead. It took the better part of the next hour checking and clearing the vehicles. By nightfall, the RVs were parked in a large pentagon, bumper to bumper.
As dinner was finished, Darrin stood up and stretched. “Tomorrow, we utilize all the cleaning supplies we can find and scrub out the three we decide to take. We fill the gas tanks and inventory what we have in reserve. Then, we reinforce those babies. Mike and I will take the firetruck up the road. I think the sign said Newark was twelve miles away. We’ll find a home repair or hardware store that will hopefully still be intact. I want to move quick so it will just be Mike and I, but we’ll stay in touch on the radio except when we actually hit the store. Everybody needs to do their part.”
“I suppose that last remark was directed at me,” Angela snapped.
“Yep.” Mike dusted his hands together and stood as well. “And if you don’t help—”
“What?” Angela cut him off with cold contempt.
“We’ll leave you,” Mike shrugged.
With that, he and Darrin picked up their weapons and disappeared into one of the RVs. Kevin glanced at the four faces that now all turned to focus on him.
“Guess I better go,” Kevin broke the silence. “I’ve got first watch.”
Feverish whispering started before he’d even climbed between the front and rear bumpers of two RVs. He had no idea what was being said, nor did he have the desire to be the sole target of feminine scorn. He found a picnic table that sat apart from everything and took a seat. Laying his longsword on the benchseat, resting the bat across his knees, Kevin watched the moon slowly climb across the sky.
Before too long he found his mind drifting—thinking of Ruth. So engrossed in his thoughts, Kevin never heard the footsteps coming closer. His chin came to rest atop his chest and his eyes closed.
A hand clasped his shoulder shattering the pleasant state of relaxation. Not fully in control of himself, Kevin yelped in fright. His body flew forward gracelessly and sprawled on the ground. Instincts came online quickly and he rolled onto his back, fumbling for the handle of the bat or the longsword. Both of which had fallen to the ground. A shadowy form loomed above. The creature hissed and reached down for Kevin who discovered, much to his dismay, that neither weapon landed within arm’s reach.
13
Illusions
It has been two weeks and, try as I might, I just can’t find anything wrong here. I live in a modernized version of the Old West. People work, play, and fight as they have done since time began. There are soldiers scattered throughout the population, but they aren’t the only ones carrying weapons. In fact, yesterday, a party of about forty people were brought in—five had to be put down—and now the civilians outnumber the soldiers.
Here at Serenity Base, everybody is expected to pull their own weight. If you are older than fifteen, you carry a weapon …after you’ve been through formal training. The soldiers aren’t stingy with their gear either. I’ve been checked out on a .50 caliber machine gun. One of my jobs is manning a watchtower, covering incoming and outgoing patrols.
Our group has maintained a loose sort of cohesion. We live in the same section and get together when schedules allow. Ian is the hardest to meet up with as he is already part of the external foraging team. Also, Joseph Wiser and Aaron Doss both left today on their first mission. It was strange seeing them suited up in all that protective gear with weapons jutting out from every direction.
Barry and Randi Jenkins work at the school. Judging by the stuff that Thalia brings home every night, the curriculum is partially survival skills mixed in with the classic “Three R’s.” Dave declined a position at the school and took a job in the infirmary. That is where Teresa and Jamie work as well.
Speaking of those two, I consider myself a fairly progressive guy, but I was the only one who seemed to show any concern that those kids, Teresa and Jamie , chose to live together in the same apartment. I guess it’s just another sign of this crazy new world.
All in all, this place isn’t bad. The worst part is dealing with what happens with the survivors that are brought in. This is the only aspect of operations that the military has exercised that I have a hard time with. If somebody is infected, they have two choices: medical execution via lethal injection; or, they are quarantined until they turn…and then drilled in the head.
Don’t get me wrong, I understand the reason. Only, it just seems so harsh when you’re watching it being done. I’d like to think that I could be strong enough to do what’s right. I still have bad dreams of that first night and that girl in the sports car.
Today is one of those days. Those five people from that la
rge group were put down this morning. One of them was a child. Only six or seven years old. He was in a coma when they arrived. At least nobody had to look in his eyes when they plugged the needle into his IV.
Doctor Zahn oversees most of the autopsies, and Dave has been on hand for a couple. After somebody is given the lethal injection, a surgical drill is used on their forehead—saves on bullets. Then, Zahn goes in and looks around. I was surprised that one of our group was given access to something like that. I guess I keep waiting for the military to act shady…withhold information like they do in every thriller or apocalypse-type story. But here, it just ain’t happening.
***
It is almost sunset, and there’s been a buzz around the compound since just after lunch. The airbase in Idaho was overrun. There is little doubt that almost everybody there is gone. Only one helicopter and two jets made it out. The helo landed here about thirty minutes ago.
This is what we know according to the pilot who is being hooked up to an IV this very minute. He has a bite on his right hand, but he wanted to make a very detailed report before being put down. I was in the infirmary picking up vitamins for Thalia, so I overheard most of what he said.
“…they came in waves unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It was like an entire city population gathering and coming at our fences with too much mass for anything other than solid concrete to stop them. There were hundreds already up against our perimeter, but this…mob…yeah, a mob of undead, literally flowed over them and crushed ‘em underfoot.”
The rest of his account was scattered. The bottom line was that whoever was in charge felt that they were safe behind that fence. The consensus is that the coming and going of the various aircraft was like a dinner bell. Not only did they draw the local population, but it seems they attracted zombies from miles away.