Sandra said, “Actually, three of us. My dad is waiting for us. We just came in to grab some stuff for dinner. Would you like to join us?”
“Would I? I’d love to! I haven’t had much to eat in three days.”
Matt asked, “Where the hell did you get the fancy stainless steel hardware?”
“You remember my husband was a gun nut? He had a cache buried in the back yard. He bought these from private sellers and the government didn’t know we owned them. Thank God he did. They took every weapon we had. The 500 rounds of ammo saved my life more than once. He had put a couple of gold coins and some other survival supplies in the cache and it’s a good thing he did, because the damn Feds froze my bank accounts. I was able to cash them in and get supplies before things got really crazy.”
“How much ammo do you have left?” Matt asked excitedly.
“I still have almost two full boxes.”
Sandra said, “Come on, let’s grab the food and get to the house before it gets dark.” She was relieved it wasn’t some old girlfriend.
Jim was inside the house when he realized he heard more than two voices. Puzzled, he made his way to the front door. Matt, Sandra and Debbie were approaching the house. Jim looked out, trying to adjust his vision as if he’d suddenly seen a mirage.
“Jim! You’re never going to believe this — we found an uninfected person. Not just anyone, it’s my old neighbor!” Matt said with such joy.
Jim couldn’t believe his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding?”
“Nope, it’s true Dad,” said Sandra as she got up close to her dad and whispered, “And if you ask me, not a bad looking lady either.”
“Debbie, this is Jim, Sandra’s dad.”
“Nice to meet you, Jim.”
“No, the pleasure is mine.” The four of them made their way into the house. Sandra and Jim promptly started on dinner as Matt and Debbie caught up some more.
After dinner, Debbie asked, “Is there a way to take a shower here?”
“Not here. You’ll have to wait until we get back to our cabin.” Jim replied.
“This isn’t where you all have been staying?”
“Heck no! We have a cabin about 20 miles away. We just came into town for ammo and a solar panel to charge our truck battery with.”
Debbie pointed to the keys on the wall and said, “Why don’t we drive?”
“That’s good idea, if we can get it started. Most of the batteries are dead from sitting all winter.”
“What kind of ammo are you looking for? If you need 12 gauge, I have a 5-pack of #4 Buckshot.”
“That’s great. And we have a box of .38 Specials for your guns.”
“That would be a good trade.”
They spent the next morning doing what only could be described as being backyard-redneck-amateur mechanics and electricians, trying to get the car started. The car was a Ford Focus and it had a little juice left in the battery, so Jim and Matt walked into town and grabbed some tools and a voltmeter. They started testing batteries, finding most were at almost zero, but a few still had juice in them. They pulled the battery with the most power and hauled it to the Focus, then hooked up the jumper cables and gave it a try. The engine cranked a little before quitting, not quite enough to start.
Jim said, “If we get one more battery and another set of jumper cables, we can hook them up in a series and then spray starter fluid in the engine air intake as you crank it. We might be able to get it started.”
Matt went out, pulled one of the other batteries that had a slight charge and grabbed another set of jumper cables.
“Okay, cross your fingers.” Jim said, “Now wait until I tell you to start it. We only have one chance.”
Matt waited while Jim sprayed some starter fluid in the air intake and said, “Okay, hit it.”
Matt turned the key and the engine turned over. Jim sprayed another shot of starting fluid and the engine took off, but then died.
“Okay, one more time, but pump the gas once it starts running.” Again, it fired right up and Matt pumped the gas pedal. The engine raced, but then died again.
“Okay, one more time.” Matt cranked the engine over and pumped the pedal. This time it stayed running. Jim unhooked the jumper cables and walked over to Matt. “What do you think?”
“Well, we have almost a ½ a tank of gas, so I say let it run for 30 minutes to charge up this battery and then we can switch out batteries with one of the others, jump it and take the good one up to camp with us. If the car doesn’t make it up the road, we’ll at least have another charged up battery for the CRV and your truck.”
Jim nodded with approval. Matt let the engine run at a higher rpm than just idle to aid in charging the battery.
Debbie came out and saw that the car was running. “Good. Now we can drive to Dolores and get my children!” Jim suffered self-induced whiplash as he suddenly jerked his head towards Debbie.
“Now hang on there. We need to get back to the cabin and get the SUV going, the truck too. We need to top off the gas tanks and figure out what we’re going to do. We’ll go and try to find your children soon, but we have to play it smart here.”
Debbie was noticeably disappointed, but understood what Jim was saying — it made complete sense.
After lunch they switched batteries. A quick jump start and they were ready to load up. Placing all their gear and the newly charged battery in the back, they were off. Matt and Sandra sat in the back, with Jim driving and Debbie in the passenger seat.
“Tell me about your kids.” Jim asked Debbie.
“I have a boy, who’s thirteen and knows everything, and a ten-year-old daughter, who is the light of my life. The State took them from me when I was arrested under false charges. I was fighting to get them back when all hell broke loose. The last thing I heard, they were at the Flying J Ranch near Dolores, Colorado.” She asked, “By the way, what do you call the creatures? We couldn’t figure out a good name for them. They are no longer human, but they’re not really Zombies either, because when they die, they stay dead. They bite and drink human blood, but I think that’s just the rabies madness driving them on instinct, and trying to quench the thirst. They eat human flesh like Zombies but they’re different. One of the Hives we ran into seemed to have some type of leader that was commanding or directing them in their attack against us.”
“Really.” Jim asked, “A human or infected?”
“It was a Thing. Maybe it was nothing, but he seemed to be in command while the rest were attacking us. I don’t know; it wasn’t like we were planning on sticking around to find out for sure.”
“Of course not. We just called them Loco.” Jim said.
Before they knew it, they were heading up the dirt road to the cabin. The road was just too bad with the slushy snow. They were only able to get within 2 miles of the camp, but that was a heck of a lot better than walking the whole way. They parked the car. Matt grabbed his pack, picked up the battery and carried it for the first mile. The battery was hard to carry with his pack, so Sandra carried his new shotgun.
Jim took over carrying the battery for the second mile, but it was soon apparent that he was struggling with it, so Matt took it back.
By the time they reached the cabin, it was almost fully dark. Matt was lagging behind with the battery in hand and Sandra next to him. They were the last ones to reach the camp.
It had been a long day, so they ate dinner and turned in for the night. Debbie got the Army cot and she was allowed to sleep inside, but only after Sandra checked her for bites in the bedroom after her shower. There were no telltale signs of a bite or the infection.
The next morning they talked it over during breakfast. It was decided that Jim and Debbie would go to Dolores, leaving Matt and Sandra at the cabin to protect it from looters. They jumped the vehicles and got them both going.
“We’ll take the Focus since it gets better mileage. I’m hoping we can find some ammo on the way. I can only take my.44 magnum pistol and the 12
gauge shotgun, so wish us luck.” Jim said to Matt and Sandra. “Please promise me you two will stay close to camp so I don't have to worry about you, okay?”
“No problem. It’ll be nice to have the slave driver gone for a few days,” said Matt with a smile.
“Don’t worry dad, you just get there and back safely.”
Chapter 23
As they were driving off in the Focus, Debbie asked, “I thought gas was only good for about six months?”
“Well that’s what they tell everyone, but the truth is you just don’t get as good gas mileage and it does stain up the tank. I had a snow blower at the house and two 5-gallon cans topped because they said it was going to be a bad winter. Well, I used the last of it three years later and the snow blower still started right up. All I did was close the fuel valve off and run it out of gas at the end of each season. The thing you have to watch out for is leaving it sitting in the carburetors for too long, because it can gum up the jets.”
“But these cars have fuel injectors, right?” said Debbie.
“Yes, and with these you have to keep running injector cleaner through them.” Jim replied.
“Should we try and find some and run it through?”
“That would be a good idea. When you see a gas station, we’ll see if we can find some.”
Jim and Debbie took Highway 15 South to Monte Vista, to Highway 160 until they hit 184 to Dolores. It was a 200-mile trip. Jim got concerned as he calculated how much gas they’d need to for the trip. He figured he needed at least 12-gallons of gas.
They stopped in Monte Vista at the gas station and, like most stores, it had been looted, but not as bad as most stores they’d seen. Jim looked around, trying to find anything useful. He managed to locate some STP fuel injector cleaner and a small bottle of vodka. Jim poured the fluid in the gas tank and they drove around town looking for a fuel truck.
Jim explained, “We are looking for a tanker truck with a placard bearing the number 1203 on the back. That’s how you can tell it’s gasoline. Placards labeled NA1993 means it’s diesel fuel.”
Debbie glanced out the window as she thought about her kids. I’m coming kids; I promise, I’m coming for you, she thought.
Jim was on the lookout for a tanker truck, when Debbie yelled. “Stop, stop! Look, there’s a truck over there!
“Where?”
“There, in the U-Haul dealer!”
“Oh that. Okay, I thought you meant a tanker truck. Let’s check it out.”
Near the back side of the dealer lot sat a large truck with a gas tank on the side. Jim and Debbie pulled up alongside the tank. They got out of the car and looked around. Parts of the dealer lot looked unusually normal. They wondered when the last time someone had been there was.
Jim was able to pull out enough fuel to top off the Focus’ tank before getting back on the road.
“Wow, I feel better now,” Jim said. Fuel was always something to worry about in this brave new world.
Further down the road, Jim and Debbie were making small talk when they saw a young man crossing the road and running out of sight. Jim made no attempt to stop. “Don’t you want to stop and talk to him?” Debbie questioned.
“Nope! No sense in getting shot, or bitten if he’s infected. Best we keep moving; besides we’re almost at the famous Wolf Creek Pass.”
“What’s that?”
“You never heard of it?” He said as he turned and smiled at Debbie. “Haven’t you ever heard the song about it? It’s by C.W. McCall. It’s one of my favorite country and western songs.”
“That’s probably why I’ve never heard of it — I don’t listen to country or western.”
“Now that’s a darn shame, ‘cause it’s a great song.” Jim started to sing parts of it. ‘Me and Earl was hauling chickens . . . on thirty-seven miles of hell called Wolf Creek Pass.’ “It’s funny as heck.” ‘The brakes went out and they were coming down the mountain pass and wouldn’t you know it there was tunnel that said, ‘clearance to the 12 foot line, but the chickens was stacked to thirteen-nine. Well we shot that tunnel at a hundred-and-ten…and we took that top row of chickens off, slicker than scum off a Louisiana swamp.’ “They crashed into the feed store at Pagosa Springs. It was the same guy that sang the song Convoy. They made a movie out of it.”
“Never heard of it,” she said, chuckling at his attempt to sing.
“Maybe I’m just showing my age.” Jim wondered.
Now laughing, Debbie said “Come on now, you’re not that old.”
“Debbie, I’m 45. You?”
“You know a lady never tells her age.”
Jim laughed beneath his breath and followed it with, “Or her weight.”
Appalled, Debbie whipped her head towards him and, with piercing eyes, said, “Are you saying I’m fat?”
Jim nearly lost his head for that one. “No, No, you look just fine.”
“Now you listen here! Since the collapse, or whatever you want to call it, I’ve lost a significant amount of weight and gotten back in shape.”
“Well, that’s one way of surviving.” Jim paused for a moment, asked her, “Hey, you ever see the movie Zombieland?”
She laughed, “Yes, I loved that movie - rule 2, double tap.”
He laughed back. “Rule 1: good cardio so you can out-run them. Tallahassee. Woody Harrelson. Thank God for rednecks. Wish we could find a gun stash like that.” Jim said.
“Rule 8: get a kick ass partner. Is that you?” she asked him.
“I reckon so. I just need to get me a slick lever action so I can play John Wayne for ya.”
Debbie smiled. “You just use that pump action 12 gauge and you’ll be my hero.”
“Hey look. A tunnel — I guess that song really was written about this place.”
They hit downtown Pagosa Springs, shocked to see people walking around. They stopped and locked the car. Jim called out to one of them. “Hey, are you okay? We’re looking for ammo.”
Several of them turned and one called back, “You and a million other survivors. Not much left here. You should just move on.”
“Well how about some news then? What can you tell us?”
“Not much. The infected took over like everywhere else and we had to kill them all.” The guy was about 6 feet and 180 pounds, wearing a Realtree camo jacket. He had a scoped deer rifle slung over his shoulder. “Then we had to kill all the dogs when the rabies hit them. I’m sick of killing, so I hope you don’t plan on causing any trouble.”
“Not at all, sir.” Debbie said. “We’re just trying to find a ranch near Dolores called the Flying J. Do you know where it is?”
“Sorry. Never heard of it. You just move on now. There’s nothing here for you. All the ammo is gone, along with all the food, fuel and medicine.” Jim figured that was true, having seen survivors. He knew they would have collected all the useable stuff, just like he’d done.
Jim interjected, “You’re right. We’ll be moving along now.”
They headed back to the car and Debbie huffed, “Not very friendly, was he?”
“I’m sure they’ve had trouble with looters and the infected. He was a little too confident, so there must have been others watching us, maybe in the second floor windows, ready to cut us down if we caused trouble.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because that’s what I would do if I had the man power.”
Jim and Debbie drove until they hit Bayfield next. They noticed something was wrong. You could feel it in the air. There were no survivors in sight. They stopped at the hardware store. No one was around and there were obvious signs of looting. As Jim suspected, all of the ammo was gone, along with the camping gear and Coleman fuel.
“Let’s go,” he said.
They walked outside. The clouds had rolled in and the day darkened up. Debbie was getting nervous. “Let’s go. This place feels bad.”
Jim looked around and he was feeling it too. Something was off, but what? They heard some crashing sou
nds, when out of the alley came a large rat, fleeing for its life. Right behind it was a person chasing it. He was wearing a coat, but no hat. He looked filthy. A bum chasing a rat, Jim thought. He must be starving.
Jim and Debbie stood near the car, watching the show. The rat zigzagged and headed straight for them. They hadn’t noticed the other five people that walked out of the alley after that.
Jim noticed something from the corner of his eye. He turned his head slightly, caught sight of the approaching group and yelled, “Get in the car,” as he leveled the 12 gauge and fired as soon as the front bead found its target. Debbie opened the car door and started firing to his right.
“A Hive.” she yelled. “Get in.” He fired once more, jumped in and started the car when the first one jumped on the hood. Out of another building, others began to swarm out, charging them. It looked like hundreds of them. Jim shoved the car in reverse and took off fast, with one hanging on to the windshield wiper, its face distorted and grotesque, with blood and dirt smeared down the right side of its face.
Jim braked hard and swung to the left, causing the one on the hood to be thrown off. He stopped and swung the wheel hard, taking off the same way they had come in. The Hive was swarming them from all sides, like a large angry army of bees. He floored the pedal again and continued to hustle out of town.
“How the hell did you know it was a Hive?” he asked Debbie.
“That’s the only way I’ve seen them since winter. If there is one, then there are hundreds hanging close by.”
“God, I wish I had an AK-47 with a thousand rounds of ammo. We need a tank, something we can sit in and shoot at them with while still being protected.”
“Now what?” she asked.
“Now we need to find a place off the main road and hole up for the night. Hopefully it’ll be a bright sunny day tomorrow and we blow straight through that town, otherwise we’ll have to find a way around it.”
The Rabid Mind Page 15