The Rabid Mind
Page 8
Matt stood open mouthed.
Chapter 12
Matt tossed on his backpack after the seven days of riots. The city was under quarantine and no one was allowed out. He spent the night on the roof of an apartment building, keeping his trusted AR-7 Henry Arms survival rifle at his side. It only weighed about 2.5 pounds and Matt considered it his best friend. He had Mountain House brand packaged food and a Berkey sports water bottle. If he could reach the woods, he could survive. If... he thought.
At night, Matt watched the infected take control of the city. It was a gruesome sight. During the day he took trips down inside the apartment building hunting for supplies, something to drink or eat, and water. He had been collecting the water from toilet tanks and, when it rained, he collected it from the rooftop with his poncho.
Matt noticed less of the infected roaming the streets at night and finally, around the 3rd week, he saw less and less of them. Maybe they were dying off from thirst and hunger, or maybe it was because there was no one left to attack. It was time to make his great escape. He had to leave during the bright sun, when the infected hid from the bright light that clearly drove them insane. At first light, he hit the road.
The military had the city and all the major roads shut down. His first goal was to make it to the edge of the city and find a rooftop to hide on before dark. It was a surreal feeling, crossing the city. Everyone he saw was either running or closing their doors once they spotted him. People were scared to death of allowing an infected person into their home. They knew that if someone was infected, it would only take 2-3 days before they themselves transformed into raging lunatics. It was a hard lesson for some families, as one member would turn and, before they knew it, they all ended up dead or converted to disease-ridden souls that walked the earth. They liked to drink blood, but no one knew why. Was it to quench a thirst? For the protein? Or was it a side effect of the disease as it drove them mad?
When he reached the edge of the block, he climbed up on top of a semi-truck and, using his Nikon 8x20 mini binoculars, he looked up at what was left of the military blockade. The fence was down, but a Humvee was there and all the soldiers were slaughtered. Dead bodies and flies were everywhere in the cool September day. He looked up at the sun; it was two hours before dark. He needed to be somewhere safe — and quickly — before he was caught in the open. He glanced down an alleyway, which was filling up with the infected. It was too late! He needed to find a place to hide right now, but where?
His first thought was to hide in the semi itself, but first he had to check it and make sure it was clear. He climbed down off the roof and opened the driver’s side door. No sound. He climbed in, his AR-7 leading the way. He cleared the truck sleeper; there was no one inside. He quietly closed the door behind him, making sure both doors were locked. He could hide in the sleeper until daybreak and then walk out, hopefully finding a vehicle to head out in.
Just before dark, he heard screaming from about a mile away. He climbed into the driver’s seat and, looking in the mirror, he saw a young lady, about 20 years old, running for her life with two infected chasing her. She was heading right down his lane. His mind was racing a million miles a minute. Had she been bitten? Should he help or hide? She was a good 20 feet in front of the infected. There were only two chasing her. Could he drop them both and save the girl? Think, think, think! The closer she got, the better he could see her. She looked “normal”. Hopefully she was okay. Could he do headshots with the little .22 at running targets? The good thing was that they were running straight on. She was nearing the back of trailer when he decided to go for it. He swung open the door, jumped out and called for her to get in. He stepped to one side and brought his AR-7 up to his shoulder, taking careful aim to make the shots count. Squeeze, he reminded himself, don't panic. The infected closest to him was lined up and heading straight for him. The girl raced up into the cab of the truck as he fired. The first one stopped dead in his tracks and instantly fell to the ground. He quickly swung the rifle to the next one to do it again. He fired, but missed. Panic was setting in and adrenaline began coursing through his veins. The second one was too close. ‘Gotta make this shot count or I’m dead’ he told himself. At 10 feet he connected. The solid “whap” echoed in the street as the second one fell over, sliding a couple of feet on the pavement. He looked back. No more. He quickly jumped in the truck, closing and locking the door behind him.
“Oh my god, I thought I was dead! Thank you. You saved my life.”
“Quiet, we don't want them to find us in here.” He whispered.
She was shaking all over and regarded him with a surprised look. “Oh there’s more of them out there?”
“I didn't see any more, but as soon as it gets dark they’ll be everywhere.” Matt replied. “Are you bitten? Hurt anywhere? What were you doing out?” He said in a hushed whisper.
“We’d been hiding out in my boyfriend’s apartment, but we ran out of food and water two days ago, so we had to get out and find more.” Her eyes misted up, “He didn't make it. They caught him at the Circle K. He saved my life and told me to run when three of those things pulled him down. Those two started chasing me.” She paused for moment. “Do you have any food or water?”
He dug in his pack and handed her a power bar and a bottle of water. She thanked him as she ate like a starved animal, gulping water between bites.
“So what’s the plan,” she asked.
“I’m heading for the mountains. The CDC said it was some kind mutant rabies virus, possibly coming from bats, but the insane, deranged, infected people aren’t smart enough to take cover from the weather and should die from exposure. If I’m lucky, I’ll find a cabin with a wood stove and hand water pump. I’ll try to shoot an elk and live off the land until spring and then head for the valley to see what’s left of civilization.”
“Please can I go with you? I promise to be no trouble.”
Matt thought for a moment. “Okay, but I’m in charge,” he said authoritatively.
She finished the power bar and asked, “Do you have anything else to eat?”
“Yes, but it needs to be cooked. I don't want the smell coming out from here while they’re outside everywhere.”
She had been bitten, but didn’t dare tell Matt. It was really just a scratch on her leg. She would be fine. It wasn’t a solid bite.
“I’m Matt. What's your name?”
“Michele. Thanks again for saving me.”
“Well Michele, we both need to sleep back here, just in case they look in the truck.”
“I understand. Just stay on your side of the bed.”
“No problem.”
The next morning they headed out, walking on Highway 285, southbound to the Four Corners region of Colorado. He had hunted elk down there and knew the trip was 385 miles. Simple enough, he thought. Take 285 until we hit US 160 West.
Michele carried a small daypack. They stopped at the last gas station heading out of town for supplies. “Don't grab junk like chips; get solid food like beef jerky, corn nuts, peanuts, or canned food that you like to eat. Then grab at least 10 bottles of water.”
He walked behind the counter and stuffed 10 Bic lighters into his pockets, along with flints and lighter fluid, then all the power bars and water he could stand to carry. He knew they needed to find a running vehicle. Just then, he heard a back door slam open. Michele was running and screaming. An infected was chasing her. His rifle was sitting on the counter 20 feet away. He raced for it, yelling at her to run outside. That would bring the infected right past him for an easy shot. He grabbed the rifle just as she flew past him and out the door. This time the infected looked like a teenage stock boy. Matt dropped him with a double tap to the head. It crashed into the door, falling half way outside.
“Any more?” He thought. He was ready, but there was nothing. Matt dropped the magazine and quickly replaced the 2 shots he had fired, slamming it back in. With only 8 rounds, he had to always keep it fully loaded. He jumped over the c
ounter and pulled his backpack on as he carefully walked around the dead body.
As he emerged from the store, he saw her standing next to a running car. It was an old beat up Toyota Tercel. “Found it around back; the keys were hidden in the sun visor. Bet it belonged to the guy working here that you just shot.”
Matt ran over and grabbed the handle. Opening the door, he hit the lever for the seat to fall forward, tossing his backpack on the back seat, but keeping the rifle with him. He jumped in.
“Where to?” She wondered aloud.
“Just drive out into the country. Get us out of here, the farther the better. How much gas do we have?” He asked.
“Just under half a tank. That should get us...what..about 150 miles?”
They took off, feeling more secure for the first time in days. The miles clicked by until they saw a smashed up mountain bike, with the owner about 20 feet away lying in a bloody heap.
“Stop!” He yelled out.
“Why?” She questioned.
“We need to check the bike for supplies.” The front wheel was smashed up and bent beyond repair, but it had 2 saddlebags on the side. Matt undid the retaining straps and tossed the bags to her.
“Check and see what's in here. I have to get something else.”
Pulling his knife, he cut through the front tire and tube, removing them from the bike and tossing the tire away, but keeping the inner tube.
“What the hell is that for?” asked Michele.
“I'll show you when we hit the road. Anything useful in the saddle bags, Michele?”
“Yep. Some food, water and a one-burner stove.”
“Great! Toss them in the back and let's go!” Matt climbed into the passenger seat and said, “No fancy driving, just nice and steady while I cut this inner tube.” He carefully cut a slot about ½” wide and 2” long on each end.
“What in the heck are you doing that for?” she said with a puzzled look.
“I'll show you in a moment.” He replied. Matt placed one end around the stock of the rifle and fed the other end over the barrel through the slot. “Next time we’re grabbing supplies, I can use this as a sling so the rifle is always with me.” He opened the glove box and luckily there was a small roll of electrical tape. He taped it around the cut areas to reinforce them from splitting and tearing loose.
Around 2 p.m., Matt knew they had to start looking for a place to spend the night. He told Michele to keep an eye out for a house or other place.
“Why? It's still early and we can drive for much longer! This is stupid to stop this early!” She snapped.
“No, this is smart. We have to clear the house, set up alarms and get beds set up in the attic.”
“In the attic?” Her nostrils flared. “Are you insane? It’ll be freezing up there tonight!”
“Okay, you’re right. Then look for a place with a detached garage or something so we can secure things and, if anything goes wrong, we can just jump in the car and make a fast getaway.”
She looked at the gas gauge. “Well we’d better do it fast, because we’re just about out of gas.”
Matt and Michele pulled off the highway when they saw a couple of houses. One had an attached garage and the other a single car garage in the back. Perfect, he thought. “Stop over there. We'll check both houses and make sure no one is home. You stay in the car and leave it running, just in case we have to leave quickly.”
He walked up the front steps. Afraid of being shot or getting attacked, he slung his rifle around. The main door was open, so he opened the screen door and called in, “Anyone home? We mean you no harm.” Silence and darkness were all that greeted him. He walked down the stairs, pointed to the other house and walked over, doing the same thing. No one was home.
He walked to the driver side of the car and said to Michele, “back up to that garage. I’ll clear it and then you can back in and get out of sight.”
Matt cleared the garage while Michele backed up and parked the car in front of the door. He looked for gas cans and found a 5-gallon can next to a riding lawn mower. He picked it up and guessed there was about 2-gallons left. He quickly poured it into the tank. They could maybe get 60-70 miles more on this, he thought. It was still good light out and he had to check the other garage. He found only one small 1-gallon can, about half full. Oh well, it was another 15 or so miles, he thought. Returning to the car, he poured all the gas into the tank.
Michele backed the car all of the way in and closed the garage door. The door was a lightweight aluminum rolling door and, once it was closed, Matt jammed a screwdriver in the slot just above the roller, locking it so no one could open the door from the outside.
She asked if they could cook inside. Matt said, “No, we should do it outside just to be safe.”
“Why are you so paranoid about the cooking smell? Do the infected hunt you by smell?”
“I don't know, but we do know that the rabies infects the brain and brings the person to a primitive stage. If you take a person back to their primitive origins, it stands to reason they would hunt by smell as well as by sight, so why take the chance? We have time to cook outside, so we should do it. While you’re doing that, I’ll figure out what we can sleep on tonight. Take the camp stove. I’ll give you my mess kit, then after dinner take some water from the kids’ pool over there and boil it to clean up the mess kit. Don’t forget to repack everything - we can’t afford to leave anything behind.”
“Yes sir!” she said in a huff.
“Look, we have to think survival now and work together as a team. Everything we have is valuable and maybe irreplaceable. If we have to flee suddenly, I would hate to lose anything. Know what I mean?”
“Yes. I just never thought of it like that.”
He walked into the garage with his LED headlamp, looked around and spotted a lawn cot. He set it up behind the car for Michele. He cleared a workbench off and placed his sleeping pad and bag down for himself. The side door had a lock, but he still wanted to rig up something more to keep anyone from coming in. First, he needed to get Michele some blankets from the house and a couple of pillows. He walked past her, the rifle still slung across his chest. That sling was handy and now his hands were free to grab stuff. She was busy cooking up Dinty Moore beef stew and the smell made his stomach grumble. He found a nice comforter and grabbed two pillows, which they would pack tomorrow with the lawn cot. As he was placing them in the garage, she called out, “soups on!”
They ate quietly, each lost in their own thoughts. He finally broke the silence when he finished. “I’m going to take some of the fishing lines and aluminum cans to set up some sound alarms. You should get everything cleaned, packed up and back in the car ready to go.” Matt told her.
“Fishing line?”
“Yeah, there’s a kids fishing pole in there. I’ll strip the line and make some stakes, putting them up about knee high near the door where you cooked. That should give us some warning.”
He finished up just before dark and entered the garage, placing a 2x4 piece of wood from the handle to the floor. Not perfect, but they just needed a little time to jump in the car and every second counted. They finally settled in for a long night.
Chapter 13
Around 3 a.m. Matt heard the cans rattle. He put his headlamp on, but kept it turned off, and grabbed the rifle as he stared at the door. He heard more cans rattling. Working his way out of the sleeping bag, he peered out the window. There were three dark figures walking around. One stopped and stared right at him. His breath caught in his throat, his adrenaline racing through his body. Could they see in the dark? He panicked. He’d never thought of that.
The moonlit night was eerie and he was shaking from the cold. He slowly ducked down. Grabbing his clothes, he got dressed. He wouldn’t be able to sleep right then anyway; besides, the cold cement was freezing his feet. He glanced over at Michele. She was still sleeping. Out like a light. Should he wake her? What if she started screaming? No, better to let her sleep, he thought. He had
just got his hiking boots tied, when he heard the loud bang on the main aluminum door. It echoed in the tiny garage. The noise woke Michele up and she half screamed, “What's that?”
“Shh, they’re outside.” But it was too late. They started pounding on the door.
“Quick, get dressed. We’re out of here. Toss the blanket and pillow in the car with you.” He yelled at her.
He quickly grabbed his sleeping bag, pad and pillow and tossed them into the back seat, leaving the door open. She was trying to find her shoes when they heard the glass break on the side door window.
“Time to go! Get in the car and start it, now!” he screamed.
He turned on his headlamp and fired at the man trying to climb in the window. She yelled out, “My shoes.”
Matt yelled back, “Too late! Get in! It’s time to go!”
She tossed the bedding in the back, jumped in and started the car.
Matt saw another figure trying to climb over the dead one that was hanging half inside. He fired two quick shots, and then jumped in, slamming the door behind him.
“Let's go!” he yelled.
“I can't! The garage door is closed!”
He told her to put it in gear and floor it. She did, but it only dented the door.
“Back up and ram it harder this time.”
She backed up and floored it again. The door crunched and slowed them down, but they finally broke free and sped off.
“Hit the brakes hard” he yelled. The garage door had landed on the hood, blocking the windshield. Michele slammed on the brakes. Matt told her to back up about 10 feet and she did. The aluminum door slid off, hitting the headlights as it cleared the car. The lights illuminated three more figures running after them. Matt yelled, “Run them over and don't stop!”
Michele floored the gas pedal. The car jumped over the broken garage door, hitting the first one, and the other two stepped to the side, trying to grab them as they sped past. They hit the highway and she kept the pedal to the floor.