Sometimes, I wondered why we bothered. We didn’t seem to be getting a handle on the Tripper problem. Every time I killed one or three, four more seemed to wheeze out of the shadows. I figured after fifteen years we’d run out, or at least the Trippers themselves would start to die off from something, either hunger or thirst. But they didn’t. They just kept going on and on. I think they were evolving somehow. They seemed to be getting more dangerous as time went by. They used to just wander around, attacking whatever happened to get in their way. But more and more they were hunting, getting into places they couldn’t before, showing signs of rudimentary intelligence. For all I knew, they were healing from the effects of the virus in their brains and were getting their faculties back.
At Steger road, I climbed off Judy and let her feed on the side of the road while I ate what I brought for lunch. Kim had gotten better at making bread, and I tended to trade chores for bread. For this last loaf, I fixed a hole in her fence where Pumpkin had a fit and kicked a few rocks loose.
The sun felt good on my face, and after I finished my lunch, I took up Judy’s reins again and instead of mounting up, I just walked in front of her. Judy didn’t mind, she took things in stride.
We passed several homes that looked like they were occupied, and their secured fences told me they were doing okay. Out here, even before things went bad, the homes were sitting on at least three to five acres. I also passed a couple of places that looked like they were ranches in a past life. Judy caught the horse smell and whinnied a hello, but didn’t receive one in return.
At one house, a man hailed me from his porch, then came out to the fence to talk. We shared news of things we knew about, and he was kind enough to give me some information about the town of Manhattan.
“Decent place, they took some pretty good precautions there against the damn Trippers. Probably have about three or four thousand people there now, I guess,” the man, whose name was Dan, told me.
I whistled. I had never seen that many people in one place. I said as such to Dan, and he motioned at my waist.
“Mind your gun while you’re there. The town marshal is an old school police officer, and he thinks the only way to keep the peace is to make sure only him and his deputies have guns,” Dan said. “I didn’t like that rule much, so I didn’t stick around.” Dan patted his side where a handgun was tucked in his belt. “Feel naked without it. You don’t happen to have any nine-millimeter ammo on you, do you?” Dan asked.
I allowed as I did have a box, wanting to trade it when I reached the town.
“Hellfire! I’ll trade with you! I’m down to my last ten rounds. What do you want for it?” Dan asked. “I’m pretty well stocked with tools and such.”
I shook my head. “My dad collected what tools he thought we’d need, so I’m good there. Can’t say as I need much…”
“Wait! Wait right here! I have just the thing!” Dan scampered back towards his house, and I was left there to talk to Judy, who was far too interested in the alfalfa grass growing by the road to give a flying rat what I had to say.
Five minutes passed and Dan comes walking out with a decent-sized box in his hands. It didn’t look heavy, since Dan didn’t seem to be straining much at all with it, but he had a very proud smile on his face. Whatever was in that box, Dan was sure he had a winner.
“I got this as a gift, and it didn’t fit, but I hung on to it for just such an occasion like this,” Dan said. He pulled the lid off and with a small flourish, handed me the contents of the box.
It was a cowboy hat, black felt with a pinched crown and a leather band decorated with small silver conchos. I turned it over and saw a small painted scene on the silk lining inside. The front of the crown read ‘Stetson,’ while on the back there was a smaller tag that said ‘Seneca.’ I tried it on, and while it was slightly big, it still fit really well.
I caught a glimpse of my shadow out of the corner of my eye and liked what I saw.
“Deal,” I said. I went over to my saddlebags and took out the box of nine-millimeter bullets I had in there.
Dan smiled as I handed the ammunition to him. “Looks like that hat was made for your head, not mine, and was waiting here for you to stop by and pick it up.”
I liked that thought, and after a handshake over the fence, I kept on my way down the road. The hat rode well on my head, and I fully believed I cut a more rugged, dangerous figure than I had ten minutes earlier.
Chapter 7
About an hour later, I finally reached Manhattan-Monee Road. I knew Monee was to the east, having been there before, so I carefully turned right and headed west.
The homes out here were open and had a lot of space around them. A couple of them had dug large trenches around their homes to keep the Trippers out. I took note of that idea, thinking that might be a very good thing to do back home. I had a shovel and lots of time.
The sun had passed its zenith, and I was watching the shadows grow longer and longer. I wasn’t exactly moving along as quickly as I probably should, so I decided to spend the night in a nearby house.
I got back up on Judy and rode at a good clip until I was out of sight of the houses that looked occupied. I didn’t feel right about asking to stay at anyone else’s home, and I had been alone for so long that trying to sleep in a house with other people in it would feel downright strange.
In a perfect world, I would have been able to find one of the homes that had been a ranch as well, which would have allowed me to put Judy up in one of the stalls for the night.
However, the world is seldom perfect, and I wound up securing a small, single-story house for the night. I put Judy in the garage, rubbed her down with a handful of rough grass, then spent an hour finding a way to get some water for her. Eventually, I found a bucket which I filled at a nearby creek, and gave that to her. She promptly knocked it over, and I had to hang it on a bike hook so she wouldn’t do it again.
I fell asleep in a small bedroom painted pink, with a bunch of dolls looking at me with fixed grins on their faces.
I woke to the sound of voices coming from the outside of the house. Grabbing my gun belt, I went over to the window and carefully looked out. The bedroom I was in looked out toward the rear of the house, and a quick glance showed me that no one was there. I put my shoes on and belted on my gun, and slipped quietly toward the front of the house. Once there, I could hear the voice much plainer.
“Thought he headed this way.”
“Could be anywhere, we’re wasting our time.”
“That was a good horse he had. And a damn fine gun. Had him a levergun, too.”
“You didn’t mention the gun before. You holding out on me?”
“No, you can have the levergun, I already have one.”
I had heard enough. I moved into the garage carefully and caught Judy’s nose before she could nicker at me. I needed her quiet while the two outside kept moving along. I didn’t want to get into a gunfight in this house, and I couldn’t open the garage because the men outside would have me at a huge disadvantage.
I looked at Judy, and then at the door leading into the house.
“Well, girl. It isn’t the smartest idea I’ve had, so try and watch your step,” I said quietly, slipping her halter over her head and leading her through the door. She balked a little, but trusted me as I lead her through the house towards the back door. We didn’t knock anything over, and I managed to get the back door open quietly enough. My biggest worry was Judy taking a bad step on her way out the door and then I’d have even bigger problems than the one I already had.
Judy was nervous and stamped her feet several times inside the house, but she allowed herself to be led outside, and once she smelled the outside air, she moved through the door quickly enough. I tied one of her reins to the doorknob, and went back inside quickly for my saddle and gear. I don’t think I ever saddled that horse faster than I did at that moment.
I walked her out to the front of the house and carefully scanned the road. To the we
st, there were two men walking down the road, and both of them were carrying rifles. I was at a disadvantage already. If I had my bow, I could have easily hit them, but I wasn’t so sure about my skills with the rifle.
I took my Winchester out of its scabbard, just to have it handy, and started walking in the same direction as the two men. I kept Judy to the side of the road, walking in the grass to keep things quiet. I wasn’t hoping to kill anyone today, and if I could avoid it, I would.
The men kept talking to each other, and they were about two hundred yards ahead of me. They didn’t seem to bother to look behind them, and I was just as happy they didn’t.
They turned down a long driveway that was lined with pine trees, and I used that as an opportunity to get up in the saddle and ride a little faster. I reined up at the edge of the trees and watched through the branches as the men looked into the house. They then walked towards the barn in the back. I waited until they were inside before I gave Judy a kick.
“C’mon, girl!” I said. “Let’s ride!”
Judy took off like she was shot out of a cannon, and I rode low along her neck as she raced down the road. She loved to run, and I didn’t have many places to let her go, but this straight stretch of road suited her just fine.
Behind me, I heard yells and a couple of shots. They were hard put to aim at a moving target, or so I hoped. One went right by my head and made me mad enough to swing my rifle back and fire a shot in the general direction of my pursuers. I must have come close enough to give them a scare because they dove for cover in the brush beside the road. I guess they had little stomach for .45 caliber bullets headed their way.
After Judy ran for a bit more, I slowed down and let her breathe. She blew for a bit, but her breathing seemed okay. I gave her a reassuring pat on the neck and scanned my back trail for my would-be robbers. There were two small figures standing on the road, and I sighted down my barrel at them for a minute. They were about five hundred yards away and I was tempted to launch a shot at them, but it would have wasted a bullet.
The morning sun felt good on my back as I resumed my ride, and the world stretched a bit out in front of me. To the north, I could see several rows of houses, and to the south, there was a scattering of homes and farms. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the day so far, aside from being chased and shot at.
Chapter 8
As I rode, I thought about the route I needed to take back to my house, and figured I would head straight north from Manhattan, then east once I came across a road I knew led towards home.
I kept a lookout for anything unusual, any sign of Trippers. They were more quiet during the day, but that didn’t mean anything if they decided to attack. The surest sign was any house that looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Chances were that there had been activity and recently.
About a mile from where I had my little run-in with the locals, a house up on a small hill had just that look. As I rode along, the gate door, swinging gently in the morning breeze, swung back sufficiently to let me see that the house had been attacked. The windows were smashed, and the front door looked like it had been beaten in.
I was on the verge of riding on when I heard a cry coming from the house. It was a small sound, like someone was trying to be quiet, but couldn’t help themselves.
“Damn,” I said. I turned Judy towards the gate and dismounted once we were inside. I took my rifle and loosened my Colt in its holster. I didn’t know what I was walking into, but I had a good idea.
In the yard were some rocks so I took one and threw it into the house. I figured if any Trippers were in there they would come out the front door, and I could get them as they came out single file. Inside the house, I’d have to constantly watch my back and that was an easy way to get killed.
The rock caused some kind of uproar because I heard some very loud growling and wheezing. I made sure there was a round in the chamber and the hammer was cocked back.
The first Tripper came stumbling out of the house, literally dripping blood. Her hands and face were covered with it, and she fixed her deadly gaze on me as she stepped through the door. I lined up the sights on her head and fired. The bullet struck her right in the forehead and her head snapped back from the impact. She dropped down and tumbled out of the way of the second Tripper who was enraged at the noise of the shot. He came out in a hurry, slamming into the doorframe.
The jolt stopped him for a second, and I used that second to shoot him dead. I had learned from past experience that Trippers did not die if you shot them in the chest. Their bodies were altered by the virus and were able to survive penetrating wounds like that. In the early days, as my dad explained it to me, that was why things went bad so quickly. The cops were trained to shoot the body, not the head, and that didn’t work with Trippers. For some reason, though, Trippers died if you shot them through the heart with an arrow. I guess they couldn’t close the wound and they died.
This Tripper was covered in as much blood as the first one, and I could see the scraps of flesh around his face. This was a new thing with the Trippers that we had seen, and it wasn’t pretty. They were not only killing their victims, but were starting to eat them as well. I guess the virus that destroyed their brains had decided it needed a snack to keep going.
I waited for five minutes while Judy pranced around behind me, blowing and stamping. She hated the smell of blood, and was very protective of me.
When no more Trippers came out, I put my rifle back in its scabbard and drew my Colt.
I stepped carefully over the bodies of the two I shot, making sure I didn’t slip in anything they were leaking out of their bodies.
Leading with my gun, I walked into the house, moving around a sofa that had been dragged out of place to try and block the door. On the floor of the living room, in the wreckage that used to be a coffee table, lay what used to be a woman. Her head was a shredded mess, and her clothes were torn and bloody. There was a huge hole in her gut where the Trippers had torn her apart and fed. In the corner was another Tripper, but this one was already dead. He was missing the left side of his head, likely from the result of a shotgun. My gun shot big bullets, but they weren’t in the same class as whatever blew this one across the threshold of death’s door.
In the kitchen, there looked to be some signs of a struggle, as the table and chairs were on their sides. I looked down the hall, and saw two more dead Trippers. Each of them had been shot in the head as well. At the end of the hall, in front of a closed bedroom door, a man lay in a pool of his own blood, his throat torn out. At his feet were two more Trippers, their skulls caved in by the butt of the shotgun that was still in the man’s hands. It seemed to me that the man killed the Trippers that killed him in an attempt to protect whatever was behind this door.
I carefully moved the man over, then tried the door. It was locked, and when I tried the handle, I distinctly heard a couple of sharp intakes of breath. I gently knocked on the door.
“Hello? Is anyone in there? It’s okay, the Trippers are dead now,” I said.
A very small voice came through the door.
“Daddy?”
Aw, hell. “No, my name is Josh. Will you let me in to talk to you?” I asked. While I spoke, I pulled the Trippers and the man over to the side so they would be out of sight if or when the door opened.
There was a moment’s hesitation, then the door clicked. I stepped up close and turned the knob, positioning myself to block the view of the hallway.
The door opened and I moved into the room, closing the door behind me. Two sets of really big, tear-filled eyes looked at me with fear and trepidation. The older child, a girl of about eight years looked at me and then at the door. The other, a small boy around four, held a stuffed rabbit in his arms while he chewed on one of the ears. Both of them took me in at a glance, and I could see the girl’s eyes linger on my gun. I must have looked like something right out of a western novel, with the hat and coat and gun belt. I’d have chuckled at the look on her face
but for the question she asked me.
“Did you save my mom and dad?”
My heart broke a little when I answered her. “No, sweetheart. I did not get here in time. But your dad saved you and your brother. And I’m going to take you away from here, to someplace safe, okay?”
The little girl was in shock, trying to understand what I was telling her, and I could see the boy was about to cry again. I patted him on the head, then picked up a backpack that was lying in the corner. I stuffed extra clothes in it, and asked the children if there was any special toys they wanted to bring with. The boy held onto his rabbit while the girl picked up a stuffed cat. The girl also picked up another pack where she put in a few more clothes and shoes.
They started to walk towards the door, but I stopped them.
“Let’s start our adventure the right way,” I said. “Do you like horses?”
The girl nodded, while the boy just looked at me like I was crazy.
I went over to the window, and pushed it open. I whistled loudly, and smiled when my horse came trotting around the corner of the house. I picked up the girl and put her on the ground outside. After the boy was outside, I climbed out myself, not wanting to leave them alone. The girl was already petting Judy’s nose, who was busy smelling these new creatures. The boy smiled a little as Judy’s breath moved his hair.
I put the girl up first, adjusting the stirrups so she could just reach the tops of them. The boy reached his hands up to me, and as I picked him up, he hugged me tight around the neck. I gave him a reassuring pat on his back and then peeled him off to sit him up in front of his sister.
“You keep hold of your brother,” I said. “Don’t let him fall off.” I took the bridle and led Judy away from the house. Walking away from the building, I was struck at how this damn disease made a lot of orphans, myself included.
Born in the Apocalypse 2: State of Ruin Page 3