by Dirk Patton
“What are we doing?” Rachel asked.
“There’s an exit a mile back. We’re going to try and get off the freeway there and work our way to the train station. This looks like an industrial area and I’m hoping there won’t be that many infected roaming around. If we’re lucky all of them in the area have been drawn to the barricade.” I got the truck turned around and started driving north in the southbound lanes. I wasn’t particularly worried about running into anyone as we had only seen a very few vehicles moving and they were all going away from Nashville.
Reaching the exit, I swung wide and made the turn onto the ramp which quickly took us below the level of the elevated freeway on which we had been driving. At the bottom of the ramp two pickups and a police car were smashed into each other, the metal so mangled that it was all but impossible to tell where one vehicle ended and the other began. Bouncing over the concrete median I slowly drove around it, moving under the cover of the freeway and out of the rain. The sudden absence of what had become incessant pounding on the sheet metal roof was almost a physical relief. The wipers finally caught up with the rain and quickly started squeaking their way across the glass.
Glancing at the navigation screen I made a left, splashing through several inches of water that had accumulated on the road. All too quickly we left the protection of the freeway and the wipers stopped squeaking as they were once again overwhelmed by the rain. Driving slowly down a wide road I tried to watch for any threats but it was too dark and visibility was only a dozen or so yards in the deluge. Driving between rows of gigantic, two story warehouses we were making good time, but I wasn’t about to push our speed and get us into trouble.
All of the warehouses had massive parking lots to accommodate the 18 wheelers that routinely visited them and these lots were surrounded with tall, sturdy chain link fencing. The truck’s headlights spilled enough illumination to the side that I was able to see the fencing and in many of the lots there were infected pressed up against the fence trying to reach us. Rachel stared at them out of her window as we slowly passed, then reached for the dash and turned on the heat to drive off a chill. I run hot by nature and wasn’t chilly, but didn’t protest.
We had covered almost two miles and according to the navigation system had less than six to go when the road forked at a river. We needed to take the south fork, but the road had been barricaded with trailers stacked five high. The barricade ran from the river bank to the brick wall of a warehouse and it looked like whoever had built it had the time to do it right.
Stopping the truck with a curse, I turned my attention to the navigation screen, looking for a side road that might get us around the barricade. There were plenty of smaller roads we had crossed since leaving the freeway, but all of them dead ended on the screen. Not particularly good news. I looked at the screen some more, trying to memorize the layout of streets we needed to follow to get to the train station.
“We’re on foot from here, aren’t we?” Rachel asked, also looking at the screen.
“Looks that way,” I answered in a distracted voice. Breaking my attention from the screen I checked the clock. “We’ve got about three and a half hours left to cover just under six miles.” I started to finish that sentence with something upbeat and positive about how easy it was going to be but bit back the thought for fear of jinxing us.
Gathering up our gear, we stepped out into the rain, both of us soaked to the skin in moments. Dog stood next to me, looking absolutely miserable, squinting his eyes against the falling water. After a moment he shook and if I hadn’t already been drenched he would have corrected that oversight. Closing the truck up tight I hit the lock button on the key before pocketing it. I didn’t really expect to ever see it again, but if we couldn’t make it to the train we would fall back to the truck to head west.
Raising my rifle I looked through the night vision scope and scanned a 360 degree circle. I didn’t see any immediate threats, but then night vision doesn’t let you see any further through the rain than normal vision. Rachel had moved over to stand next to me and Dog, and after I finished a second scan of the area I led the way towards the river. My hope was that the barricade didn’t go far into the water and we could wade around the end of it, or at the worst swim, but as we approached I had to discard that idea.
From the edge of the pavement to the river was a 40 yard swath of grass and as soon as I stepped off the pavement my boots sank into the saturated ground. Halfway to the river and the water was over the tops of my boots. I only needed to take a few more steps to realize the river was flooding and already over its banks. The swollen water was running fast, way too fast for any of us to risk going in. There was an occasional banging noise coming from the barricade and I peered through the scope to try and identify the source. Eventually I happened to be looking at the right spot when the noise sounded again. The rushing river was carrying bodies along with tree limbs and other debris. I watched as a body slammed into the metal barricade before being whisked away by the water. OK, not going that way.
Turning, I was happy to see Rachel with her rifle up and watching our rear. I stepped next to her and filled her in on what I had seen. “Could you tell if it was infected or not?”
“No. All I could see was lots of bodies being carried on the current. Couldn’t even make a guess.”
“Couple of males crossing the road near the truck.” Rachel said, keeping her rifle up and aimed as she watched them through the scope. I spotted them easily enough, but decided to conserve ammo since they were moving parallel to us and seemed to be unaware of our presence.
“I think the only option we have left is to try and go through the warehouse this barricade butts up against. I’m sure there will be doors on the far side, and hopefully they aren’t welded shut.”
Rachel nodded and I headed back toward the pavement, Rachel on one side of me and Dog on the other. He was completely soaked by now and walked with his head hanging down, a constant stream of water running off the end of his muzzle onto the ground. I tried to feel sorry for him, but I was just as wet.
The warehouse we needed to get through was one of the largest buildings I had ever seen that wasn’t a sports stadium. It was built from red brick and as tall as the barricade. The wall that faced the river was at least 400 feet long, but the wall that fronted the road was closer to 800. The longer wall was fitted with a loading dock that ran its entire length and had more roll-up doors than I could count. Every 100 feet there was a ramp up from the parking lot with a metal access door at the top. None of these had a handle on the exterior and had most likely been put there to meet the local fire code for emergency exits.
Our first obstacle was a 20 foot high chain link fence that surrounded the parking lot. There were also a couple of dozen infected males shambling around the parking lot, bumping into parked trucks or trailers as they moved. The parking lot itself was a maze with semi-trucks parked all over. There were probably a thousand hiding places for the infected and we’d have to be very careful as we moved through, but first we had to get over or through the fence. Over was out. There was no good way to get Dog over the fence. That meant through it or under it. We walked along the perimeter, looking for a gate.
We finally found it at the far end of the parking lot. The gate was actually a large guard shack with motorized sections of fence that with the push of a button the guard could roll out of the way for incoming and outgoing trucks. The shack was wooden construction for the first four feet off the pavement, then rows of windows above that to give the guards a good view of the area. It was dark inside the building, but using the night vision scope I spotted three infected males wearing security uniforms. They were all just standing there as if they were still on duty.
I also spotted the two doors in the shack. One on the outside of the fence, the other inside so the guards could move in and out without having to open the gate. Here was our way in, we just had to deal with the infected. Moving quietly I stepped up to the exterior door and gi
ngerly tried the knob, but it was locked tight. The door was heavy steel with a mesh reinforced window set in the top half. I didn’t have anything that could force it. Taking the opportunity I checked the windows and wasn’t pleased to note they were marked as ballistic, or bullet resistant. That meant they were very tough and very hard to get through without making enough noise to attract every infected in the state.
I was startled and took an involuntary step back when one of the guards slammed against the inside of the glass right next to me. Soon the other two joined him and all three were pounding away. The sounds of their blows was muted and hardly audible which was another indication of the strength and thickness of the glass. Well, there’s always a way. Moving Rachel and Dog under a small overhang to give them some protection from the rain I told them to stay put and jogged the short distance back to where we’d left the truck.
The Dodge started up as soon as I turned the key and I quickly had it back to the guard shack, front bumper within a few feet of the locked door. Digging through the tool box in the bed of the truck, I found the sturdy canvas tow strap I had seen when I’d first inspected the vehicle. I wrapped the strap around the door knob a few turns, tied it off tightly and hooked the other end to one of the tow hooks hanging below the truck’s front bumper.
“OK, hop in. When I signal you, put it in reverse and hit the throttle and don’t let off until it either yanks the door off the hinges or the knob out of the door.”
“Just watch your ass. I don’t need you getting taken out by a flying door.” Rachel said as she climbed behind the wheel. I made a face at her back which she somehow saw, turning and sticking her tongue out at me.
A moment later the note of the engine changed slightly when she shifted into reverse, holding the big truck in place with the brakes. I moved to the side away from the hinges, made sure Dog was clear and raised my rifle to aim at the door. Looking over at Rachel, I saw her watching me and nodded my head then quickly turned my attention back to the rifle. The diesel engine roared and the four rear tires momentarily spun on the wet pavement then grabbed the asphalt sending the truck backwards. The tow strap uncoiled to its full length in a fraction of a second, went taut, then the door popped open with a screeching protest of metal. Rachel did exactly what I told her and the truck continued on to tear the door off its hinges and drag it 30 feet across the pavement.
The males wedged themselves into the fresh opening and I gave them a moment to get outside so I wouldn’t have to drag the bodies out of the way after I shot them. The first one stumbled out and when he was clear of the doorway I shot him in the head, quickly bringing down numbers two and three as they cleared the opening. I was about to step forward to clear the shack when Rachel sounded the truck’s horn. I snapped my head in her direction just as I was tackled from behind and knocked to the wet pavement.
12
It was so dark and raining so hard that neither Dog nor I had detected the three females that attacked us. When the one in the lead tackled me I flew forward and landed hard on the asphalt, rifle between my body and the ground adding a few bruises. My face hit hard and I was reasonably sure my nose broke. Not the first time and probably won’t be the last. I heard Dog go into his ‘savage’ mode and I pushed off the ground, trying to roll over and pin the female under me. I was halfway through the roll and almost to the tipping point when another female slammed into us and slid in front of me, face only inches from mine.
She screamed in my face, fetid breath turning my stomach, and lunged at my throat with her teeth. I was able to get the rifle barrel between us which prevented her from biting into me, but didn’t stop her from pressing her putrid lips against my skin. While I fought with her the one on my back was frantically tearing at my vest and clothing, raking the back of my neck with her nails as she tried to tear into me. I tried to reach my Ka-Bar but the female in front of me was pressed too tightly against my body for me to draw the blade.
Unexpectedly, the female on my back was gone and I was able to apply enough force to the one in front to clear space, draw the knife and bury it in her throat, twisting up until I hit the brain. Rolling over her and getting my feet under me, ready to battle the second one, I was momentarily confused when I saw Rachel and Dog standing there looking at me. Dog had killed the first female when we were attacked and Rachel had dashed over and yanked the second one off my back, allowing Dog to have the honor of finishing her off. I grinned my thanks, wiped the blade clean and sheathed it.
These three had attacked silently. So far I had only seen a very few female infected that I was referring to as the smart ones that attacked without mindless screaming. Unfortunately it seemed as if we were starting to encounter more and more of them. Raising the rifle I scanned the area, spotting a small group of males shambling our direction from a neighboring warehouse. They were still a safe distance away, but we didn’t have time to be messing around.
“In the shack,” I gestured to Rachel and Dog as I hopped behind the wheel of the Dodge. When they were safely inside I pulled the truck up tight against the wall of the small building, front bumper pushing against the chain link gate and driver side door lined up with the empty doorframe. This effectively blocked any infected from being able to enter the shack and I was able to open the truck’s door right into the opening and step out of it and into the shack.
There was nothing notable about or in the shack so I quickly moved to the steel door that opened onto the parking lot side of the gate. Rifle at the ready I started to reach forward to turn the knob but had to pause a moment to change my grip on the rifle. The latest anesthetic that Rachel had injected me with a few hours ago was wearing off and my hands were starting to hurt. Rachel noticed me pause and shake my hands in the air and gave me a concerned look.
“Bad?” She asked.
“They’re fine. Just a little tender.” I lied.
“Bullshit. Come over here and sit down.”
“No time. Later.” I said, getting ready to open the door.
Rachel stepped up and grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the door.
“Like I said, bullshit. You’re hurting, and if you’re hurting it’s going to affect you. This will take five minutes at the most. We have that much time if we don’t waste any more of it arguing.” Not releasing my arm, she guided me over to a vacant chair and forcefully pushed me down into it. Digging through her pack, she found the supplies she needed and set about working on my hands. While she worked, the males I’d seen approaching had arrived. They tried to squeeze between the truck and wall to get to the doorway but I’d parked the truck with only a few inches of space left. They couldn’t get to us. Dog walked over to the door and sat down to watch them. Just in case.
“Looks like your nose is broken.” Rachel leaned sideways and shone a small flashlight on my face. “Actually, I think it’s an improvement. It’s straight now.” Rachel finished treating my wounds and quickly bandaged me up, took a moment to pack gauze into my nostrils to stop the bleeding then re-stowed the supplies. I thought about saying something smart-ass back to her, but remembered she always found a way to get even so decided to settle for thanking her for treating me.
It had only taken maybe three minutes and though I wouldn’t admit it I was glad she had insisted. The numbness in my hands was welcome after the sharp, burning pain that had been growing worse by the minute. Ready to go I looked out the windows into the lot and saw a few males shambling toward us, probably coming to investigate the noise the ones outside the gate were making as they repeatedly bumped into the truck. Glancing at Rachel and Dog to make sure they were ready I opened the door, pushing it all the way open to ensure there wasn’t a surprise hiding behind it.
The closest male was 20 yards away and I didn’t waste any time putting him down with a shot to the head. Scanning the expansive lot I spotted several more, most of them stumbling towards us, but didn’t see any females. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. I much preferred the ones that screamed and ran at
you, giving you time to shoot them before they could attack. Unlocking the knob I closed the door behind us. I still hadn’t seen any sign that even the smart female infected could operate a door knob and I wanted to leave us an escape route that was free of infected.
There must have been fifty trucks parked in the lot. If I had tried I couldn’t have created a better maze we had to work through to get to the warehouse.
“Do you think the lot goes around the far side of the building? Maybe we don’t have to go through.”
I mentally kicked myself. Rachel was right. If the lot went around the building it would be a much safer path than wandering through a dark, cavernous warehouse with who knew how many infected inside. I nodded at her and led the way across the lot, frequently bending to look under the parked trailers. I didn’t want any surprises as we moved around blind corners. I shot seven more infected as we made our way across the lot.
The rain still poured down, drumming on the roofs of all the trailers and pounding the pavement. My hearing had shrunk to a small radius immediately around me and the only way I was finding threats was by seeing them through the night vision rifle scope. Try walking around a large open area with a cardboard toilet paper tube held up to one eye. Close your other eye so all you can see is what is in the field of vision of the tube. Now try to spot and deal with random threats as you walk. It’s not easy, and I was as tense as a bowstring.
We finally reached the far side of the lot where I shot two more infected before they noticed us. The fence here separated the paved lot from a large, weed choked field. Dozens of males shambled around in the field, occasionally bumping into the fence and rattling it against its posts. Following the fence line with the scope I saw where it connected up with the corner of the building. It didn’t go around.