The Rabid Mind

by Bruce Buckshot Hemming

  ‘Crack!’ The sound was fierce as the blast erupted in the enclosed space. ‘Crack!’ Another one went down. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, he thought. With two down, he started feeling confident that they were going to make it.

  His thoughts were quickly interrupted when he felt the box get slammed. It moved to the right and tipped upward. He dropped his right foot down hard on the bracket that they had placed on the floor of the box. It had been taken from a bookshelf inside the house. He swung the gun around to the left side and shot the coyote. Sticking the barrel out of the gun port, he was taking careful aim at a coyote when suddenly the gun was ripped from his hand and slammed against the box. Ferocious teeth wrapped around the barrel, ripping the gun from his grasp.

  Desperately he tried to pull the gun back inside. Several coyotes jumped on top, clawing to get in. The growling sound was maddening. He was getting worried and looked to the front, just in time to see another one pushing its teeth through the slot and trying to rip the board off. Pulling the pistol, he shot the beast straight down its throat.

  He continued to point and shoot through the box, killing the one that was holding onto his rifle barrel. The rifle freed, he quickly pulled it back inside and set it down. Turning to his right, he shot two more on that side. The pistol was deafening inside the box. His success was futile as more just kept replacing the ones he’d killed. Like a swarm of bees, they were all around him, covering all sides of the box and they could smell and see him moving in there.

  Inside, he emptied the pistol, dropped the magazine and reloaded. He holstered the pistol, saving that for his last resort.

  Listening to the battle that raged outside, Sandra felt her stomach twisting and legs weakening beneath her. She made it to the window and leaned over as far as she could to see the box. There were two coyotes on top trying to get in, with the rest of them swarming around it.

  “Dad, you have to help him! They’re going to rip that box to shreds and eat him alive!” Jim and Sandra then heard the popping sounds of a little .22, followed by howling echoing through the mountain.

  Inside the box, Matt was struggling to stay alive, no longer caring where he hit the coyotes — put lead in them anywhere and they would die. He emptied the magazine and started reloading. His fingers were getting cold in the subzero weather and the box kept getting shoved back and forth. It was like being on a carnival ride from hell. Reloading the magazine, he shoved it in and racked one in. He struggled to refill the second magazine, but it was better to get it done now while he could still feel his fingers. Trying hard to clear his mind, he thought about what to do next. He knew there was only one way of getting out of this alive. All the coyotes had to die. He took careful aim for headshots, while keeping the barrel inside. The teeth marks on the barrel had seared down, leaving behind jagged bright scars.

  Matt continued shooting and reloading as he dropped the coyotes one by one — eight shots and eight kills. He could hear the wood splinter above him and felt the pieces hitting him on the head. A bright light poured in from above.

  “Oh shit!” The top board was ripped off. Looking up, he saw a coyote’s head, trying to bite him. He placed the barrel up to its nose and pulled the trigger. The coyote died instantly and grotesquely, half-hanging, stuck inside the box. Another coyote tried to stick its head in beside the dead one. The hole was about 6-inches by 12-inches. He shot at it and it fell back. Another one jumped in its place. He struggled, but continued to fight. It felt like he was fighting in some video game where you can never kill them all, no matter how hard you try.

  Sunlight peered again through the top as the dead coyote was ripped out of the way. Now he was confronted by two growling, snarling coyotes. He bent his knees, lying down on the porch looking up. The rifle empty now, he set it aside and drew the pistol. This was it - either kill the rest or he was dead.

  He was out of time. There was only one magazine left. He shot the two on top in a blind panic, emptying the magazine all around the box. He was deaf from all the shooting. Had he killed them all? The pistol locked open, a stark reminder that he was empty. He needed Jim and Sandra’s help, but didn’t know how to get it.

  Two more coyotes tried jamming their heads inside the box. It’s all over but the dying, he thought, looking up at the snapping jaws that were inches from his face.

  A super large coyote jumped up on top of the box and instantly ripped off another board. It charged at him, snapping for his head. Matt looked past him, up into the sky. “Why let me come so far to die like this?” He yelled. The irony was chilling as he realized that the box intended to keep him alive would now serve as his coffin.

  Matt waited for the razor sharp teeth to pierce his flesh. This was it, it was over now, he thought. His life flashed before his eyes: his childhood, his friends, his mother and father. Had he made his father proud? He’d always wondered.

  Out of nowhere, he heard a 12 gauge roar. Then another shot, this time the loud crack of the .270. It was music to his ears as Matt realized what was happening. Jim and Sandra were saving him.

  Unable to see what was happening, he had no idea how many coyotes were left alive. Suddenly, he felt the box being lifted and he hung on to the brackets with all of his strength. Jim yelled at him, “It’s me Matt! It’s clear, come out!”

  Matt moved his feet and the box was lifted off and tossed to the side. He looked up. Jim stood there, with his arm extended towards him. He grabbed the hand like a drowning man. Jim pulled him inside the house. He took a deep breath. Jim looked at him and smiled.

  “I think that’s all of them. You did it, Matt.” Jim said with a sigh of relief. “Did you get bitten? Are you okay?”

  “What? I can't hear you. My ears are ringing!” The sound inside the box had been like a cannon shooting next to him. He was shivering and shaking from the cold.

  Sandra wrapped her arms around him and said “Come over to the wood stove and warm up.”

  Matt walked over and yelled, “Thank you. Did we kill them all?”

  Jim smiled. “Yes, we did.”

  Sandra grabbed some coffee and brought it over to Matt. His hands were shaking too badly to hold the cup.

  “Just warm up,” she said softly.

  A little while later, when Matt had warmed up, they all stepped out onto the porch and looked over at the battle remnants. The box was nearly shredded and soaked all over with blood. Dead coyotes lay everywhere on the porch, stairs and in the yard. Brilliant red was splattered all over the pure white snow. It was so cold that the blood froze in the snow. It would look that way for days.

  They moved the box out on to the lawn and each hauled in enough firewood for several days.

  Chapter 22

  Spring came early. They had survived the cold winter and the coyote attack. Although they were battle hardened, they were ready for warm weather, ready to get outside and into the sunshine.

  They tried to start the vehicles, but both batteries were dead. It was a real problem, but not surprising. Matt hoped the CRV would start so he could use it to jumpstart the truck, but no luck.

  “What now?” Matt asked.

  Jim was thinking. “I guess we are going to have to find a solar panel or something to charge up the batteries. Maybe a generator would work, but that would be a pain in the butt to haul up here.”

  “I’ve got a better idea. What if we took the batteries into town and found a generator there to charge them with? In fact, if we could find a car and enough gas to get it started, we could drive it back up here and jump the truck and car.”

  Jim nodded, “That's a good idea. I think the three of us should take a walk tomorrow morning and do a little recon first, spending the night at a house down there. You know, see what we can find. We can also see if there are any survivors. If we’re lucky, maybe we could even find some shells for our guns. We are critically low on ammo. I only have three shots left for the 06 and 12 rounds left for the .44 mag. There are five rounds for the 12 gauge, eight rounds
for .270 and Sandra’s .40 has zero. You have plenty of ammo for the .22, so that’s the only good gun right now.”

  “Crap, we’re in trouble if we don't find some more ammo quickly. If we run into many infected, we’d surely be overrun.”

  “I figure Sandra can take her .270, you take the .22 and I’ll carry the 12 gauge with the .44 mag.”

  It was the last week of April and the sun was shining above the clear sky. It was about 50 degrees outside, so they each carried a light pack with just their sleeping bag and pad, mess kit, water and some food. The idea was that they’d be able to load up and carry stuff back up with them, if they couldn’t find a running car.

  Their mission was simple — find as much ammo as possible and a solar panel or generator for the batteries. Jim was down to his last two packs of Camels. He was hoping to also find some cigarettes, or he’d suffer withdrawal symptoms.

  Hopefully the little co-op gas station and repair shop would have the type of charger that plugged into the cigarette lighter. It might take a week to get the charge up enough to start the CRV, but it wasn’t like they had any other place to be.

  It was twenty miles to town. If they averaged three miles an hour, it would take just under seven hours. They were all out of shape from sitting around the house through the winter. Because of that, they knew it was going to be a long, hard trip into town. Maybe the long walk would help Jim quit smoking.

  They started on their mission and the trip turned out to be uneventful, as if the world was still the same as it had always been. They saw some deer that made Sandra wonder. “Why aren’t the deer getting the rabies?”

  “Not sure. There seems to be something about hoofed animals not being affected. I think that includes cows too, but I don’t understand why.”

  They were walking on pavement now. The first house they entered had been looted, but they still looked for shells and other useful items. They didn’t find anything except for solar powered walk lights, designed to light up driveways.

  “Will those work for the truck battery?” Sandra asked.

  Jim replied, “Nope. They only put out about 3-volts and we need something that puts out 13 or more.”

  “Can’t you hook them all together to charge the battery?” She replied.

  “If I had a soldering iron and the right type of wire, I could.”

  Sandra paused for moment then said, “I’m going to grab a couple. They could come in handy down the road.” She shoved two into her pack.

  All of the houses along the main road were pretty much the same, having been already looted. They were still about five miles out of town.

  “We have enough daylight for about another two hours of walking and checking houses and we’re maybe four hours from town, so we should check for a house we can close up and spend the night in,” said Jim.

  Matt and Sandra agreed; they were very tired. The next house they went into had a fireplace and could be secured, so they decided to spend the night there. They hung some blankets they found to close off the rest of the house and started collecting firewood. The house was cold and it took a couple of hours to warm it up. They hadn’t cut enough wood to make it through until morning. They weren’t used to how inefficient a fireplace was compared to a wood stove.

  Morning broke and they ate a cold breakfast with coffee. Jim, Matt, and Sandra gathered their things and walked into town. There were no signs of humans, coyotes, or any infected.

  Sandra asked, “Do you think it’s over? Are we the last people on earth?”

  Jim smiled at the question and said, “Hopefully the infected are all dead. How badly the dogs and coyotes are infected and how many are still alive is another story.”

  Matt whispered in her ear. “We may need to re-populate the planet, don’t you think?”

  She laughed, “Whatever do you have in mind, Mister?”

  He smiled. “I don’t know; maybe you can teach me.” They both laughed as they were entering town.

  “Would you two stop playing around and pay attention? There could be looters, or even an infected still around.”

  They spread out and were on alert, but nothing was around, not even a stray dog.

  They headed to the co-op and started looking for a solar panel battery charger. They found a 12-Volt Solar Battery Saver IMob 2.2 watt. “This should work. Just plug it into the cigarette lighter and in about a week we should have enough of a charge to start the SUV. Once that’s started, we’ll jump the truck.” Jim grinned. “We’d better grab some Sta-Bil additive for the gas too and some starting fluid, just to be safe.” When they finished, they walked outside. “I think it’s time we split up and search for the ammo. You two take the south side of town and I’ll take the north. We are looking for ammo,” said Jim.

  Matt and Sandra headed south and entered a few houses that had the doors kicked in. They found one .410 shotgun and 17 shells of birdshot for it. It was an old Mossberg three-shot bolt action. Matt tied his AR-7 to his pack and carried the .410.

  In the third house, they found an unopened 1-pound can of Folgers coffee and added it to their pack.

  “It’s not as good as ammo, but damn close,” said Sandra.

  In the following house they found a box of .38 Specials, but no gun. Matt tossed them in his pack.

  “Why take those?” Sandra asked.

  “You never know when we might find a .38 or .357. Or, who knows, we might run into someone else that is willing to trade for the shells we need.”

  Matt and Sandra kept searching through town. They found a house with a woodstove.

  “We should go find dad and spend the night here.” Sandra suggested and Matt agreed. The two made their way to the north side of town. As they walked through, they peered in abandoned cars. As they came up the main road, they found Jim walking out of the drug store with two cartons of cigarettes.

  “It’s not Camels, but it’ll do.” He smiled.

  As they walked back towards the house, Matt asked, “Any luck on finding ammo?”

  Jim grinned, saying, “Yep. I found three rounds for the 30-06.”

  “You did better than we did, but I did find this .410 with 17 shells and a box of .38 Special. There was no gun though.”

  They entered the house that Matt and Sandra found. “Why don’t you two walk down to the store and see if you can find some Rice-A-Roni and Spam, or something like that?” Jim suggested. “I’ll get the fire going and get us set up here for the night.”

  Matt and Sandra were playing around as they got back into town. Like a young couple in love, they were laughing, hugging and kissing, without a care in the world.

  Unexpectedly, a female voice called out, “Matt? Oh my God, Matt is that really you?”

  Matt and Sandra’s mood shifted and the laughing ceased as they immediately took cover behind a car. “Who are you?” Matt called out.

  She stepped out from behind a truck. “Matt, it’s me, Debbie, your neighbor.”

  Matt stared, trying to recognize her, and then he abruptly exclaimed, “Wow! Debbie, it’s really you? What are you doing here?” He ran over and gave her a hug.

  Sandra approached them with uncertainty. Who was this woman? Sandra couldn’t help but wonder if it was an ex-girlfriend or just a good friend. As she got closer, she could tell the woman was older than Matt.

  “I can’t believe it’s really you Debbie! What are you doing here? Are you alone?”

  Sandra stuck her hand out and said, “Hello. I’m Sandra.”

  Debbie shook her hand and looked back at Matt. “See, I told you one day you would meet a good woman.”

  Matt blushed and Sandra smiled.

  “Debbie, I’m sorry about what happened to your husband. I heard about it after I got back into town.” Matt’s toned changed like a switch. “How are the kids? Are they with you?”

  “No, I am on my way to Dolores to see if my children are still alive. The foster care system finally told me where they were, but the quarantine kept me from coming soon
er and I barely made it out of the city. A group of us banded together to survive the winter and, now that spring is here, I want to see my children.”

  “Group? Are there more of you?”

  Debbie looked down at the ground. “There were up until a few days ago, but we ran into a Hive and I was the only one that made it out alive.”

  Sandra asked, “A Hive? What kind of Hive are you talking about?” Her mind was racing. Were the bees infected and attacking people too?

  Debbie asked, “You know….the infected. You haven’t run into a Hive yet? Oh God, I pray you don’t. It’s really bad. We’d go into a house searching for food and we’d find hundreds of them. We think they band together and sleep during the day, using their body heat to stay warm. That’s how they survived the winter. At least that’s our theory.”

  “Only four of us survived that attack.” She patted her rifle. It was a M92 Carbine lever action, .38/.357 caliber, stainless steel with a 20” barrel. It held 10 shots, plus one in the chamber, and only weighed 5-lbs. “Me and Mr. Rossi got us out of there.” She held up the gun she was referring to. Debbie was also carrying a 5-shot Smith & Wesson Model 60 .357 Magnum revolver. It was a double action stainless steel revolver with a 3" barrel. “We made it back to the van we were traveling in and got out of there. The rest of the group was caught and killed. The next Hive we hit was just three days ago. That was bad too and it was only me and another guy, about your age, and a lady in her 60’s, with a 14-year-old little girl.” Debbie continued to explain. “We had hit a town just about daybreak and we should have waited until the sun was fully up, but we didn’t. First they grabbed the 60-year-old and Brice tried to save her, but there were just too many. They bit him while he was trying to reload. Little Jackie and myself ran for the van, but she tripped and one of them caught up and bit her. I managed to get her into the van and we escaped, but you know that, once someone is bitten, it’s all over three days later. I had to shoot little Jackie. The van broke down about 50 miles back and I’ve been on my own for the last three days. I am so glad to have found you two.”