The Rabid Mind

by Bruce Buckshot Hemming

  “Calm down. Slow down. We’re okay now.” Matt said.

  “What happened? Where did they come from?” she screamed.

  “How the hell do I know? The important thing is that we survived! Keep your speed at about 45 mph. We don't need to hit a deer.”

  One headlight was out from smashing into the garage door. He glanced at his watch. It was 3:23 a.m. He popped the magazine out of the rifle, reloaded and placed it back in.

  “Hope we have enough gas until daylight.” he said. “What time does it get light?”

  “I don't know. Somewhere around 6 a.m., I think. We should just about make it.”

  Sunrise came at 6:21. The car started to cough a little and then race.

  “Crap! We’re almost out of gas. Pull over before we run out completely and shut it off.” Matt directed her. As she pulled to the shoulder of the road, he glanced at her and noticed she was sweating. “Are you okay, Michele?”

  “I don't feel so good. You should just kill me and leave me here. I’m slowing you down.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about? Let’s get out and get some fresh air. It will help clear your head.” They both got out of the car and she was leaning against it as he walked to the front.

  He asked again, “Are you okay? Do you want some water?” Michele was pale and looked like she might pass out at any second.

  “I’m so hot.” She said. The sun was shining down on them and she turned to face him. With an odd smile, she said, “You know what….I really want you to screw my brains out.” And she started stripping her clothes off.

  Matt was utterly confused. Michele had kept her distance this whole time and now, just because they ran out of gas and she wasn’t feeling good, she wanted to have sex? It made no sense. The sun was in Matt’s eyes and he couldn't see her clearly as she started to walk up to him, fully nude. He backed up, trying to keep distance between them.

  “On second thought, I’m just going to kill you.” She began screaming and charged at him. Oh God, she was infected! He whipped the rifle up and hit her with the first shot in the chest, but she just kept coming. The second shot was in the throat, but she continued to charge. Finally, a third shot to the head dropped her. As she fell towards him, he jumped to the side to avoid being splattered by her blood. She fell face down on the ground. He stared at her, shaking. Then he noticed the bite mark on the back of her leg. She had been infected.

  Matt walked over to the car and pulled out his sleeping bag and pad, placing them on the hood of the car. He rolled them up tightly and pulled out his pack, securing them to it. Leaving the pack on the hood, he had to decide what to do. Remember this one, he thought. Don't trust anyone for 3 days.

  He grabbed the cook stove and lit it, putting the coffee pot with water on to boil. As the coffee was brewing, he grabbed power bars and water bottles, stuffing them into his pack. It was better to cook something now. He knew he needed to eat solid food. He grabbed a can of Ravioli. Once the coffee was done, he heated up the ravioli. The whole time, he was trying to decide if he should take the empty gas can and find gas, or just abandon the car and keep going.

  Killing Michele bothered him and, at the same time, it didn't. He knew she was no longer human, but rather a crazed animal. Screw it, he thought, I am just walking out of here and not looking back.

  The first infected he had killed was in an apartment, during the first week of the outbreak. That one really bothered him. He threw up for days. Later that week he had to kill two more infected inside the apartment hallway. By the end of week three, he had already killed ten of those things and no longer thought of them as humans. He watched them torture and kill the healthy and he knew it was pure survival now, on a basic level of us or them.

  As he walked, his mind wandered. It would have been nice to have a female to keep him warm this winter, but what if he found some girl that would never shut up, or didn't know how to cook, or hated the taste of elk meat, or would go crazy from cabin fever and kill him in the middle of the night? He stopped himself before he could think more, knowing he was being too negative. He kept walking. He had just passed Highway 17, heading south where US 285 turned west. Saguache was the next town. He had a long walk down a lonely stretch, hopefully a safe one. He hoped the infected wouldn't be out that far.

  Just before 2 p.m., he passed the sign for Saguache, saying it was 17 miles away. If he was in perfect shape, walking on flat ground at 4 miles an hour, he would have 4 hours and 15 minutes to go. He’d arrive just in time to hit town when the infected started coming out. At 3 p.m., he saw a rest area coming up. His back was sore and his legs were feeling the strain of the weight he carried. It would be a good place to stop, cook up some dinner and relax. Then he could find a place to make camp.

  He walked up the ramp and saw a car. It was a Honda CRV. He carefully walked up and checked the vehicle; it was empty. He leaned his backpack up against a nearby picnic table and pulled out the camp stove and mess kit. It was time to make a big dinner and then find a place to settle in for the night, maybe in the back of the CRV if it was unlocked. He pulled out some canned goods and was debating what to cook when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement by the restrooms. It appeared to be a mother and a daughter about 14 or 15. They started walking toward him.

  He slid the AR-7, which was hanging crosswise on his back, up to the front and called out to them, “Are you okay?”

  They broke into a run straight for him.

  He yelled, “Stop!” as he raised the rifle up to his shoulder.

  They continued towards him. When they were 10 yards away, he could clearly see they were infected. He dropped the mother first and then swung on the daughter. At 5 yards, he double tapped her to the head. Too close to take any chances.

  Immediately reloading, he walked up to the restrooms. He needed to clear the building. He checked the men’s room first. A body was lying on the floor, partially eaten. That explained why the two were still there. He checked the maintenance door. Still locked. That was good. He then cleared the women’s restroom. There was nothing except for a purse lying across the floor with keys spilled out of it. Matt took the keys and walked outside, hitting the unlock button. The CRV beeped. He got lucky. He climbed into the car and started it up. Thank goodness, he thought, it still has gas. He looked at the gauge. It was barely above empty, but that may be enough to get to town in the morning. He shut the engine off and looked around to see what might be useful. He wondered what had happened, as the inside of the vehicle looked clean and there were no bloodstains. Maybe there was another dead body around; perhaps the woman that owned the vehicle, or maybe she ran off when they were killing the guy. Who knew? He opened the back up and cleared the luggage, looking for anything useful. It had a cooler with a 12-pack of Diet Mountain Dew, some lunchmeat and a little ice with melted water.

  He pulled the back seat up so he’d have enough room to lie down. Retrieving his pack, he removed the sleeping bag and tossed it into the back, placing the pack in the passenger seat. It was too early to lie down for the night and with all the noise, if there were any more infected around, they would have been there by now.

  He paced around for a few minutes. It felt good not to have the backpack on. Making his way out to the highway, he watched the road. Silent as a church mouse, he thought. He walked back to the car and made three sandwiches from the items in the cooler, pulling out a Mountain Dew. Diet Mountain Dew wasn’t ideal. It was just his luck, but, he thought, beggars can't be choosers.

  Just before dark he climbed into the back of the car and made sure everything was locked up, putting the keys in the ignition, just in case.

  It was around midnight when he suddenly felt the urge to pee. He knew he shouldn't have drunk that second Mountain Dew. He sat up and slowly looked around. It was a dark night. Either there was no moon, or it was cloudy.

  Matt stepped out of the car and walked about 10 feet away to relieve himself. His bare feet were cold on the gravel. He turned to go
back to the CRV and then stopped and froze, listening. What was that? He strained his ears. There it was again. Someone or something was walking on the gravel really close by. Fear paralyzed him when he realized that, although he had his gun, he forgot to grab his headlamp. You idiot! He thought, but it was too late. Just don't move, he told himself. It was pitch black out. An entire army could be marching by and he wouldn’t see them.

  He felt raindrops lightly hitting his face. With his rifle leading the way, he took one step forward and strained to listen some more. He carefully lifted his other foot and slowly set it down, making sure there was no noise. He heard the sound of a foot stepping on gravel. It sounded like it was directly in front of him, maybe 30-40 feet. He dared not move. A light breeze hit his face. Good, he thought, if it’s one of them, they won't smell me. The rain started to lightly come down. He stood still, hoping whatever it was moved on past him. Was it an infected hunting him, or a fellow survivor traveling by? Maybe it was a bear looking for an easy meal? He smelled the air. If it was a bear, he might be able to smell the wet fur, but there was nothing in the air except the smell of fresh rain and pine needles.

  The rain started to come down harde. Matt could just barely make out the CRV a few feet away. He wanted so badly to run, jump in the car, and slam the door shut as quickly as humanly possible. His breathing increased. He started a mantra - calm down, don't panic, use reason, not emotion. He heard it again. Was that closer, or moving away? He couldn't tell over the sound of the rain, but there was something over there in the dark and it was close, too close. Damn, why hadn’t he grabbed the headlamp! Stupid move moron, he thought as he scolded himself. He was soaked and shivered in the wind. After what seemed like an eternity, he dared another step. He was soaked and the rain had started to pour down, making it hard to hear anything but the heavy drops hitting the ground. If he couldn't hear, maybe it couldn’t either. He took a step. No sound, so he took another. A fourth step and he was almost at the door. Just then, a deer snorted at him from 10 feet away, causing him to jump straight up in the air. As the deer ran off, Matt finally realized what it was.

  He quickly climbed back into the CRV and started laughing. He’d almost frozen to death because a deer had him cornered. Too funny, he thought. Stripping out of his wet clothes, he climbed into the sleeping bag and quickly warmed up before falling asleep.

  Chapter 14

  He awoke with the sunlight fully shining in the car and glanced at his watch; it was 8:20 a.m. Wow. He couldn’t believe how hard he’d slept.

  Matt climbed out of the CRV naked, opened the front door and, pulling his pack out, grabbed fresh clothes and quickly got dressed. Of course, his trusty rifle was right beside him. Once dressed, he walked over to the picnic table and set things up to cook breakfast, or at least coffee. He was on the road by 9 a.m.

  He stopped short of the next town by about 1/4 of a mile. He figured, why chance it? He left his pack inside the car and, taking his binoculars and rifle, carefully walked into town, staying low in the ditch. There was a semi-truck parked next to the restaurant and the town looked deserted. There were a few parked cars. He climbed up on top of a truck with a camper and lay down on the camper so he could study the town.

  Caddy-corner from him was a sporting goods store. Good deal. He hoped they had some real guns, but he’d be willing to bet it had already been looted. There was a pickup truck parked out front. The door of the store opened and a young lady stepped out, turned and called back.

  “Dad, I'll take this stuff to the truck. Grab more freeze-dried food.” She turned to walk to the truck, her blonde hair shined in the sunlight. She was about 5’ 4”, 110 pounds and wearing a pistol of some type on her hip, with a belt knife on the other side. She put the box in the back of the truck and walked back into the building. Survivors, he thought, but how did he approach them without getting shot? A few minutes later she came back out, carrying another box.

  Matt spotted them first, coming up the alley. They were still in shadows and, when they saw the girl, they charged. Her reaction was quick as a flash. She threw the box to the ground and drew her sidearm, screaming to her dad, “Killers!”

  There were five of them and she instantly dropped the closest three, but then her gun jammed. Matt opened up, dropping the fourth one just as her Dad’s 12-gauge roared, killing the last one. The father looked in Matt’s direction and called out, “Who are you?”

  “Just a survivor, trying to find a place to survive the winter.” He called back.

  “What in the hell are you doing up there?” The father asked.

  “Dad, the least you could do is thank him for saving me.” She turned and looked up at him. “Thank you. Nice shooting. We have a cabin in the woods. Would you like to join us?” She called out.

  Her dad jumped in, “Wait just a minute. Slow down. We don’t know him. He might be dangerous.” Matt smiled at that.

  She said, “Dad, use your head. If he meant us harm he would have let those things kill me. Then, after you came out, he could have easily shot you and killed the things and taken all our supplies.”

  Wow, she’s sharp, he thought.

  Her dad called out, “Climb down and let’s get a look at you.”

  Matt climbed down and walked over to them, with his rifle hanging in front of him, ready but not threatening. He walked up to the father, sticking his hand out. “Matt.” He introduced himself.

  The father, taking his hand, said, “Jim, and this is my daughter Sandra. Where are you from?

  “Denver.” Matt said

  “You didn't walk here from Denver with just a rifle, did you?”

  “No, sir. My car is parked about 1/4 mile back, just about out of gas.”

  “We can take care of that in a bit. Come on and help us finish getting the rest of the stuff we need. All of the guns are gone, but there is some ammo. I think I saw some .22 Long Rifle rounds.

  Matt followed them towards the store and asked, “What happened to everyone in the town?”

  “The rabies came and the whole town went nuts. We thought we had them all cleaned out, but as you saw there are still a few more.”

  “How were you two able to make it?”

  “We were out elk hunting when it hit the town. We came in for supplies one day and all hell broke loose. Things were on fire, people shooting each other; we thought the world had gone nuts. We beat feet back to the cabin and waited it out. After two weeks we figured it was safe to come in, but the first trip in was bad. We killed...what, Sandra, 15 that trip?”

  “Yeah, it was bad.” She let it trail off and then said, “Enough talking. Let’s grab what we need and head out.”

  Matt recalled all too clearly how that felt. It seemed like only yesterday that he had found himself in the same situation. One day he was out in the woods practicing his survival skills, the next, he found himself putting those survival skills to use.

  They all walked into the store. Matt looked things over and called out, “Do we need fishing equipment?”

  Jim replied, “Yep. Get what you think we need.”

  Matt grabbed rods, flies, lures, bait, fishing line, hooks and sinkers. Filling his arms, he took it out to the truck. Sandra came out with another box full of goods.

  “That’s about it. Make sure you grab your shells,” she called out as they passed each other. Matt grabbed all the .22 LR boxes and met Jim at the door.

  “Let's go.” Jim told Matt to jump in the back. Matt climbed in and Jim drove over to an old farm truck and stopped. Jim got out and said to Matt, “See that hose and the gas can? We can toss 5-gallons into my truck and then fill it up again for your car.”

  They quickly filled up the 5-gallon can and added it to the truck’s gas tank. Sandra stood guard with the 12-ga. the whole time. They have it together, Matt thought. He topped off the can and they were on the road, heading to his CRV.

  When they got there, Jim said, “What does that get, 30 miles to the gallon?”

  “I’m not sure.
I just picked it up yesterday.” Matt poured the gas in and put the can back in Jim’s truck.

  “Follow me,” said Jim. Their place was only about 20 miles outside of town. Matt followed them through town and then, a couple miles outside of town, they took off on a dirt road. It was rough going, yet they managed to make it to the camp quickly.

  It was a darn nice hunting camp, he thought. It was a single story log cabin, about 20’x30’, with a wood shed. They carried the supplies in. Matt noticed there were 20-25 propane gas cylinders sitting on the front porch.

  “We collected them from BBQs and gas stations. It’s enough to give us light and to cook on the stove for years,” said Sandra.

  Matt nodded. “Good thinking.”

  They walked inside. “You have to excuse the mess, Matt.” There were boxes and miscellaneous things stacked all over the room. “We’re stocking up on what we need for winter.”

  “Have you seen any of the infected up here?”

  Jim replied, “None yet, but we have wooden shutters for the windows to keep bears out and we put them up every night, plus we have black out curtains.” Jim continued, “We also have running water from an artesian well that feeds the camp, but no hot water. You have to heat it up on the wood stove and then pour it into one of those solar shower bags to take a shower, but we have a flush toilet and water at the kitchen sink.”

  Once all the supplies were inside, they sat down in the living room. “I hate to tell you this, Matt, but you’re going to have to sleep out in the wood shed for three nights, just so we know you‘re not infected. We can't take the chance. You’ll be given a plate and cup and you have to wash them yourself, outside. Once you clear the fourth day mark, we can allow you to spend the nights in here. If that’s not agreeable to you, feel free to leave.”

  Matt was a little taken back and thought about it, remembering what happened with Michelle. He answered, “Of course. I would do the same thing in your shoes.”