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The Plague Years (Book 1): Hell is Empty and All the Devils Are Here

Page 33

by Rounds, Mark


  “So here is your story,” said Dave holstering the .44. He grabbed a rag from his back pocket and soaked up some of the gas. “This yahoo fired a couple of times at you from the front. He missed your squishy parts but hit the bike a couple of times. You rode it until the gas gave out and then walked it back.”

  Dave walked back to where Danny was lying and threw the sodden rag in his lap.

  “Wipe the leathers around your crotch so they will believe that the gas got dumped.”

  “Man, I will take me hours to push my bike downtown to Roban’s,” said Danny with a thunderstruck look in his eyes.

  “Yeah, that’s about what I figure,” said Dave with a smile that did not go all the way to his eyes. “I figure it will be dark when you push it pack, too late for them to attack today. You will be hot, tired, sweaty, and smelling of gas. You will have had hours to rehearse your story so you can tell it with just the right amount of fear in your voice, because, if you get wrong, you know what they will do, don’t you Danny?”

  Chapter 23

  June 1st, Monday, 8:37 pm PDT.

  Kevin was still sweaty and a little disoriented from having sex with one of the girls that clustered around him. It was like the old days in the NFL, when the girls just threw themselves at him. Some came to say they had an NFL player. Some came to bask for a little while in the limelight that surrounded professional athletes, and some were just plain crazy. It hadn’t mattered then. He just used them and went on to the next.

  These girls were different. There was a frantic drive behind their passion, probably because they knew that the Slash that they got from Kevin and the rest of the bikers who hung out around Roban’s was the only thing keeping them from a slow and twisted death. Kevin liked it even better this way.

  “Hey Kevin,” shouted the guy outside of his door. “The Rugrat is finally back. He’s laying down some cock and bull story about some fuckin’ Marine shooting up his bike and all. What do ya want me to do?”

  “Bring him up here,” said Kevin with a groan. “I’ll talk to him.”

  Kevin then looked at the girl in his bed. She may have been sixteen, but she was infected, like all of them, and needed the Slash.

  “Beat it, I got some business to attend to,” said Kevin as pointed toward the door.

  The girl started to grab for clothes and began dressing.

  “I said, got business to attend to bitch,” said Kevin as he grabbed her by the ankle picked her up effortlessly off the bed with one hand, and with the other he opened the door. She was nearly naked and the vise like grip on her leg had to hurt but she knew better than to scream. Kevin pitched her out of the door. Looking around the room, he gathered and threw some clothes at her that may or may not have been hers. Kevin wasn’t much of a housekeeper.

  “Dress in the hall or go to the bar, but get out,” said Kevin as he slammed the door. Kevin then got dressed himself in his leathers, wearing only a vest to show off his muscles.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” said Kevin when Danny was thrust into the room. “I sent you to take a little ride, be gone maybe an hour, and then you show up three hours later smelling of gas with a busted bike. What the hell happened?”

  “Kevin, it was like this,” said Danny talking very fast, “I rode around a bit like you said, but there is nothing moving on the streets these days. Everywhere I went, people were looking at me and pointing guns so I decided to make one fast pass down the street to look it over. In might have worked, only there was this old guy with a big ole cowboy pistol, chomping a cigar and wearing a Marine boony hat. He stood right in the middle of the street, shooting at me. He didn’t get me but he shot the shit out of my bike. I rode for maybe four blocks before I ran out of gas. Then I pushed the beast the rest of the way here.”

  “So I suppose in all the excitement,” said Kevin sarcastically, “you forgot to look at what I sent you for?”

  “No no, I mean I did look pretty good until this dude started shooting,” said Danny quickly.

  “Well why don’t you tell me then, fucktard,” said Kevin, “rather than make me guess!”

  “Well, it was almost like before the Plague,” said Danny. “People were out mowing lawns and there was a block party going on. There were a lot of kids around and …”

  “I send you there to get a look at the defenses,” said Kevin looking exasperated, “you know, find out something we can use! Instead I get a travel log for fucking middle America. What kind of defenses do they have you idiot? Did you see anything like, oh, you know, guns or bunkers? Tell me something useful or I’ll get bored with this discussion and put you in the cage for a while to see if you can remember a little more.”

  “Geez no, not the cage …” said Danny. He knew that when Kevin or Macklin didn’t think people were fully cooperating, they would throw them in a ten by ten cage, usually with a couple of other infectees and withhold the Slash; letting the neurosis set in. People would come to watch them fight and try to eat each other.

  “Then get on with it,” said Kevin. “I ain’t got all day!”

  “OK, ok, most everybody was packing, mostly pistols but some shotguns and rifles too. There was some guys on a couple of the roofs, you know with rifles … and there was some plywood and shit over the front of some of the houses.”

  “Did it look like anybody was leaving or pulling out?”

  “No, they said they was bunkering up.”

  “And just when did you have the chance to chat with them?” said Kevin leaning back in his chair smiling. “Was that before or after that marine dude was shooting at you? I think you are hiding something.”

  “No, I mean, yes, look, they said they were bunkering up, then then said they were heading out to Ft Lewis, but I don’t remember …”

  “Kyle, Jamie, get in here and drag this piece of garbage out of here. Maybe a night in the cage will help him remember.”

  The two big bikers opened the door and grabbed Danny, pinning his arms and lifted him high enough that his feet didn’t touch the ground.

  “Nooooooooo!” screamed Danny as they hauled him frantically struggling out of the room.

  Kevin took a minute to pour himself a drink and thought, “what could he be hiding? Did the little shit have a girlfriend there or something?”

  Then he snorted, “Not likely, he couldn’t get it on if he paid for it.”

  He was still thinking about it when Kyle stuck his head in the door.

  “Hey Kevin, are you sure about this?” said Kyle. “That big biker Gangrene is in there. He will likely fuck him first and then eat him.”

  “Yeah, I know,” said Kevin with a smile. “Meet me there in a couple of hours with some beers. I figure it will take that long for Gangrene to wake up and the Rugrat’s last fix to wear off. This should be a kick to watch.”

  June 2nd, Monday, 2:14 am PDT.

  Chad was sitting on last time on his patio, with his guitar, playing the blues. He had started out playing for himself because he thought everyone else save the neighbors who offered to stand watch for them were in bed. He had closed his eyes, working on a riff and when he had opened them, his friend Dave was they holding out a beer.

  “I do recall a wise man saying you should never turn down hot coffee or a cold beer,” said Chad setting aside the guitar and reaching for the beer. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

  “Yeah, but it could have been worse,” said Dave sitting down and opening his own beer. “We are packed up and ready to roll at first light. There are any number of improvised explosives in and around our two places and the neighbors are planting more all around the neighborhood even as we speak. If Macklin and his stooges roll in tomorrow afternoon like Danny said they would, the MRAP will probably make it out just fine but I don’t think they can get into and out of the buildings unless the ram them with the MRAP. If they do that, it will likely get stuck and burn so either way it’s a win.”

  “Yeah, except it’s my house,” said Chad morosely. “It was the first
house I ever owned and it’s where I raised my kids. I’d hate to see it burned, unless of course Macklin was in the MRAP.”

  “You know, a house is just stuff,” said Dave. “And I know, stuff is nice to have, but if you can’t pack up what is important and leave, you don’t own the stuff, the stuff owns you.”

  “I heard that too,” said Chad. “I just never thought I would live it. I am also sad about Danny. He was a nice kid when he was younger. He was always a little clueless, but a nice kid. I wonder if Connor knows that we sent him in to plant misinformation.”

  “We didn’t send him anywhere,” said Dave. “He made some bad choices and when the feces hit the air circulation device, he was out of options but, we didn’t send him, he went on his own.”

  “Connor knows,” said Connor from the kitchen window surprising both the older men. “I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything. I couldn’t sleep and I came down to see if there was any of that bread left. I heard dad playing and stopped to listen for a while. But I know what happened out there.”

  “Why don’t you come and sit with us for a minute,” said Dave. “This maybe needs some talking out.”

  “You know, the Danny we saw today wasn’t really the Danny you knew in junior high,” said Chad.

  “Dad, we don’t have to have one of ‘those talks’ ok?” said Connor shaking his head as he came through the screen door and sat down in the lawn chair next to his father.

  “I saw what Uncle Dave was doing. I didn’t like it, but I knew that it was the best of several bad options.

  “Danny was always a bit of a victim. When he was in the sixth grade, his dad used to beat on him. After him begging me not to for almost a year, I told Mom and well, you know Mom and kids. She called the cops, Child Protective Services, the PTA, and probably the Marines too. We let Danny stay here for a few days until things settled down. There was a restraining order, and then his folks separated, and finally divorced. He thought I was a hero for getting the beatings to stop.

  “Then I was a hero again in the seventh grade because after I hit my growth spurt, I could look most of the bullies in the eye and get them to back down when the year before, I was just a little kid like him.

  “Through it all, there was Danny, blaming the world that everything was happening to him, sometimes blaming me for not being there all the time, blaming his dad and his mom for not staying together, sometimes blaming them for not divorcing sooner. I never said this before, but when he moved, I was relieved.”

  “Connor, you don’t have to say this …”

  “Yeah, I do, dad. What I am saying is that seeing Danny today confirmed what I thought in the back of my head all along. Danny was an attention hog and frankly, a loser. I couldn’t see anyway for him to, you know, grow up and be something. I am sad we saw Danny today and sad that he is probably going to get thumped on again but he brings it on himself. Is that a bad thing to say?”

  “I don’t know about ‘bad’ Connor,” said Dave, “but truthful anyway. I don’t want to gloss over this as Danny will likely die soon. If the Plague doesn’t get him, his associates will, but it’s not your fault. You can’t ‘save’ anyone who doesn’t want to be saved. It sounds like you were everything a good friend should be. Danny chose. Maybe because he wasn’t strong enough to change, but he thought people ought to take care of him. It’s always a bad answer. Sometime you let your friends help you, but they don’t owe you.

  “But we had all probably better head to bed. We are leaving in the morning and even though it should be a short day, anything could happen. Hitting it on too little sleep will make for bad decisions.”

  June 2nd, Monday, 3:42 am PDT.

  Kevin was sitting on a lawn chair in front of the cage, beer in hand. He had watched Danny slowly devolve from sane and scared to psychotic and scared. Gangrene had been one of the first guys locally to come down with the Plague and now he needed a huge hit of Slash three or four times a day to keep his stuff together. He was high on Slash almost continually, so mostly he slept. But when they let him wake up, things got interesting. Gangrene was almost as big as Kevin, though of differing composition. He was still very much stronger than most and even more intimidating. Danny had begged to get out of the cage when Gangrene was sleeping and then became quiet and still as a stone when he woke up.

  While the Slash still had some say in his system, Gangrene tried to convince Kevin that he should let him out. Kevin laughed and Gangrene became angry. There was only one outlet for his anger and so poor Danny had been beaten and then brutally sodomized. When Gangrene started biting him, they gave them both Slash. Gangrene got enough to stop a horse, but Danny got just enough to check his symptoms for a while. When Gangrene stopped moving they hauled a beaten, naked Danny out of the cage and left him in a heap in front of Kevin’s chair.

  “That Gangrene,” said Danny weakly, “he hurt me.”

  “You gonna tell me the truth now you little shit?” said Kevin relaxing in is chair, “or do we wait for Gangrene to wake up for a second round? What the fuck really happened while you were gone?”

  “Kevin, I was riding out there just like I said,” said Danny still clutching his knees in a fetal position, “when I tried to make a fast pass through the neighborhood, there were some kids who clotheslined me. The stupid rope took me right off the bike. I didn’t lie about the Marine either, except for the cigar part.”

  “So then what?” asked Kevin. “You guys just sat down and had a nice chat?”

  “Almost like that,” said Danny. “I went to junior high with Connor Strickland. He kept them from shooting me.”

  “This is rich,” said Kevin laughing, “that’s the son of the guy we are going to hit tomorrow. So what did the place really look like?”

  “Pretty much what I told you,” said Danny. “There were people all around, like a party. They were passing out food and the kids were playing. There was some plywood up but it mostly looked like it did when I lived there.”

  “You lived there?” said Kevin incredulously. “So they wanted you to come back, you know, all sins forgiven?”

  “Not really. A bunch of the neighbors wanted to shoot me straight up,” said Danny. “But Connor stopped them. Connor was also the kid that stopped my Dad from beating me and then in the eighth grade, he …”

  “Enough with the old home week routine,” said Kevin. “The kid was your hero. So what did they really say about what they were doing?”

  “That they were bunkering up,” said Danny. “I wasn’t lying about that either. They also said something about heading out for Fort Lewis if things got tight, but there was a lot of shouting and guns being waved around. Then the Marine dude shot my bike.”

  “He thinks he is some sort of bad ass does he?”

  “He said I needed a story to tell you so you wouldn’t get mad,” said Danny and then he started to laugh and cry at the same time. “So you wouldn’t get mad he said, God if he only knew …”

  Kevin looked over at Jamie.

  “Go get Macklin,” said Kevin. “He will want to hear this.”

  “The Fed’s asleep,” said Jamie as he started to get up.

  “Well then wake him up, Moron! It’s time he found out who was really doing the dirty work around here.”

  June 2nd, Monday, 7:08 am PDT.

  They finally had everyone in the cars. Fiona was quietly sobbing in the back of the Camaro. This was the only home she had ever known and it had finally hit home that they were leaving and that this wasn’t like a movie. She and Connor and Amy were leading off their little convoy. Chad’s Subaru Outback came next.

  Next to Chad sat Mary who was white with anger. Their home had been all she had ever dreamed of having when she was a little girl living in foster care. It had become her castle, her refuge, and the place she raised her children. Saying she was pissed was an understatement. Chad knew her well enough to know that she would calm down with time but now was not the time for light conversation. Chris and Amber were in the backseat
trying to studiously ignore the chilly silence in the car.

  Dave, Heather, and Heather’s three kids were in Dave’s truck and they brought up the rear. All the vehicles were loaded to the gills with food, water, gasoline tools, weapons, medical supplies, and as much of the wine as was left. They figured it would trade well if they needed to and Chad had a feeling they were going to need it later.

  They had decided to take a circuitous route out of Kennewick. Normally, they would take the big blue bridge on US Highway 395 and follow that until they turned off to head east at Connell, but they thought that was too risky as they would be just a few blocks from Roban’s and from what little Danny had said and Chad’s analysis, they figured that downtown was lousy with infected.

  So they decided to drive a few miles down the road and cross the river at near the Columbia Point Golf Course using the I 182 bridge. It was either that or head out toward the Vernita Bridge on state route 24 more than 30 miles away.

  Several of their neighbors were there to see them off and it made them feel worse. It was bad enough to leave, it was worse when they realized that there was probably going to be a fight no matter what they did. They hoped that these people remained safe. As they pulled out, Chad tossed his house keys to Mrs. Bassman.

  “If you folks need anything that we left, go ahead and borrow it,” said Chad. “Just keep the place locked up otherwise.”

  “Don’t worry Chad,” said Mrs. Bassman, “Nobody will bother the house. I have spoken to the neighbors.”

  In spite of himself, Chad laughed. He could just imagine Mrs. Bassman sitting the adult men in the neighborhood down in her living room and laying down the law.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bassman,” said Chad. “Keep yourself safe.”

  As they drove through Kennewick, they saw that many of the houses were either boarded up or looted. Several others were burned. Some of the other neighborhoods apparently hadn’t fared as well as theirs.

 

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