The Rabid Mind

by Bruce Buckshot Hemming

  Giggling, she smiled with a devilish grin, saying, “Oh, I am so irresistible you can’t control yourself? That’s such a turn on.”

  He grabbed the cup of coffee, “Yes, you are and you know we’re never going to get anything done today if you keep distracting me.”

  She said, “Well I’ve been thinking. We have three sides of the fence finished and we just have to finish the last side. This is day four, so for sure dad and Deb are not going to be back. This is our chance to really enjoy ourselves without worrying about anyone else being here. We can run around naked all day and make love as much as we want.”

  He looked intently into her eyes, stood up, walked over, picked her up and laid her on the table and they made wild passionate love. When they finished, he said, “You mean like that?”

  She smiled and said, “That’s a great start. Now we can take a shower together and do it again.”

  That afternoon they were lying together on the couch when they heard the truck coming. “Oh damn.” Matt cursed, “Someone has to ruin our perfect day.” They ran over to their clothes and got dressed. They heard the horn honking and knew it was Jim and Debbie.

  Matt quickly finished dressing and stepped outside. Jim said, “Open the gate so we can get in.” Looking at the fence he said, “Nice job. Is it finished?”

  “We only have one side to go.” Matt said. He walked out, unhooked the gate and swung it open.

  As Jim parked the truck and got out, he said, “Wow. Good job. I’m impressed that you two actually were working hard.”

  Matt beamed at his approval, saying, “Yes, we have been. We worked up quite the sweat today.” He wanted to burst out laughing when he said that, but looked at Debbie. He could see she was depressed and the fact that there were no children was not a good sign. “Debbie, I’m sorry. What happened? Where are your children?”

  “We think they’re at a ranch near Meeker, Colorado, which is about 250 miles north of here.” The day had started out a great day for Matt and Sandra, but turned sour with their early return and the failure to find her children.

  That night after dinner, Jim and Matt were on the front porch talking. Jim brought up his idea about the homemade hand grenades, explaining it to Matt in detail. Matt looked astonished and said, “You’re not really thinking, Jim. Do you want to die? If you pour hot lead around a full propane bottle, the propane is going to heat up and expand rapidly, causing the pressure relief valve to blow. If that gas hits any spark or open flame it would go off, killing us all.”

  “Oh crap, you’re right. Why didn’t I think about that? Any ideas on how we could make them?”

  “Well I’ve seen some sand molding before. We would have to make the part in the middle slightly larger than a propane bottle and then about a ½ inch thick all the way around. Build a box, like 1-foot square with hinges and a latch, so you could open it up afterwards.”

  Jim asked, “You know how to do this?”

  Matt shrugged. “Sort of. We just need sand and to make the box. We can give it a try. We might have to make 1 or 2 before we work the bugs out but, and this is just a guess, they’re going to weigh about 5 or 6 pounds.”

  Jim nodded. “I think so too, but this is what I think we need. We can make them up and spread them around the camp, mounting them on top of a pole, like 6 feet off the ground. Then, if a Hive hits us, we can shoot them and take out 30 or 40 of the Locos per bullet.”

  Matt smoothed his hair and said, “But at what distance from the cabin? 50 yards? 75 yards?”

  Jim looked out over the property and said, “I really have no clue until we test one.”

  The next day they finished the last side of the fence. Jim felt much better now. If a Hive of Locos did find them, they at least stood a chance now. He talked Debbie into waiting before going to Meeker to find the children, at least until they had some hand grenades made.

  The next day Jim and Matt drove to the lumberyard and grabbed the needed lumber and hardware needed to build the box. They then drove to a metal shop and found some ¼” plate steel and a gas torch. They wanted one plate with a slot cut in it, to shoot through when they tested the first homemade grenade. They stopped at a tire shop, picked up boxes of lead wheel weights and then stopped at a couple of houses and picked up some cast iron frying pans to melt the lead in.

  Back at the cabin, they began by building the box out of 2” x 8” wood, with a plywood bottom. Once it was finished, they were ready to pack the sand in for the mold. The sand was hard to form, so they collected some topsoil to make the mold. Once it was dampened with a little water, it held its shape. When they were satisfied with the mold, they got a big fire going outside to keep the fumes out of the house and melted the lead weights.

  They poured the molten lead into the mold and let it cool for a little more than a half an hour. When they knew the lead was properly solidified, they broke up the mold and removed their masterpiece. It was not pretty and on the bottom the lead was thicker and it had little pits everywhere, but the inside was perfect for sliding a 1-pound propane bottle into it.

  They drove to a local school for the test, leaving Sandra and Deb to guard the cabin. Once at the school, they took out school chairs and placed 40 of them in circles all the way around the bomb, spacing them at 10, 20 and 30-yards. The device was sitting on top of a 6-foot 4x4 post, which they braced with concrete blocks. They found cardboard boxes and placed them on the chairs so they could assess them after the explosion. This would give them a good idea of the distance the hand grenade would reach. If it worked, it could give them a 60-yard kill radius.

  They set up the quarter inch plate steel that they had cut for protection. It had a three-inch slot on the top edge, so one of them could shoot at the tank from behind the shield. It was time for the big test. Jim insisted he would be the one behind the steel plate, shooting at the target from 60 yards. He wanted Matt back about 200 yards, watching with binoculars. He knelt down and took careful aim with the 30-06, slowly squeezing the trigger and shot at it. Within a fraction of a second, there was a huge explosion and the lead was flying everywhere. It was a good thing they had the plate steel up as Jim heard bits of lead smashing against it. It probably saved his life.

  He stayed behind the shield and waited for Matt to drive up. As Matt got out of the CRV, he was yelling, “Yahoo! Now those were some fireworks!”

  He asked Jim if he was all right. “Yeah, I’m okay, just a little hard of hearing. My ears are ringing.”

  Matt had a big grin on his face and said, “Let’s go see the damage we did.”

  They walked towards the center of destruction, noticing bits of lead all over, with some even stuck in the blacktop. Once they got to where the grenade had been, they saw all of the damage it had done. It was not as good as they had hoped for, but all of the boxes in the 10-yard circle had been hit. At 20-yards, only about 35% were hit and at 30-yards, only 2 out of 12 boxes were hit.

  After surveying the scene, Jim said, “It was great, but I think we can make it fragment better, getting more hits. Notice that some of the very large pieces were hitting the boxes. We need to figure out a better way to make them break up into small bits of shrapnel to kill more.”

  Matt nodded, saying, “Yes, but you couldn’t see the blast circle like I could. I believe any Zombies in the 20-yard circle would be dead, or at least down and out of the fight.”

  They picked up their equipment and drove off to try and find more of the 1-pound propane cylinders. They found some at the hardware store and, while they were scavenging, they found cast iron cooking plates for corn on the cob. It was a dream come true. The plates had the perfect shape of the corn, kernels and all, molded right into the metal. It was perfect for making hand grenades.

  Using the corn mold, they quickly melted a new batch to test, attaching four to each propane bottle, one on each side, with J.B. Weld and wire. That afternoon they were back at the school and ready for another test. They turned the boxes so the undamaged sides faced the gren
ade. If the box was damaged on all sides, they used a marker to mark the holes already in the box. They set the grenade up as they had before and were ready for their second test of the day.

  Once again Jim insisted he be the one to fire at it, making Matt take the car at least 200 yards away to observe. He got behind the protective plate of steel and aimed at his target. BOOM. The result was extremely scary, as pieces of metal hit at an increasingly greater distance. It reached past the 20-yard mark, but the 30-yard mark still had a low number of hits. Only about 18% hit ratio at that distance from the center, but neither of them were complaining, with a 40-yard overall kill circle.

  Jim told Matt, “Okay, I want one of these on top of 6-foot poles every 40-yards around the cabin, at 60-yards out. Use the chain saw and cut down any trees in the way of shooting them from inside the cabin. Debbie and I will make up four of them to take with us to find her children.”

  Matt nodded his head and said, “It’s good we have enough of those 1-pound cylinders to make lots of them.”

  Jim and Matt drove back to the cabin and shared the news with the girls. The next morning Debbie and Jim left for Meeker to find the children.

  Chapter 33

  Jim and Deb had gotten an early start and, after studying the map, they decided to take highway 160 over to highway 550 and then up to Grand Junction. They could take the bypass and miss the main part of the city, hoping that it wasn’t blocked with dead cars or that they would run into a Hive. After getting to I-70, they could make their way over to Rifle and then turn north on County Road 13/789 to Meeker. This would be a 325-mile trip and when the world was together it would be a little over a six and a half hour drive, but in today’s world they didn’t know how long it would take them.

  They had packed provisions for a week, just in case they needed them, but hoped they wouldn’t. Debbie said, “Yeah, this might have been a nice trip when the world was together, gas stations were open and the Hives of infected were not trying to kill us and drink our blood.”

  Jim smiled. “You are such a downer in the morning. Without all of the excitement, this would be a boring trip.” He continued, “The only area I am really worried about is getting through Grand Junction and then to highway I-70 that leads straight to Denver. I’m worried that we may run into a Hive or two.”

  While scanning the horizon, Debbie said, “We have prepared the best we could. We have guns, ammunition and the bombs. All we can do is try.”

  “I know what you’re saying but, and it’s a very big but, the ranch hand most likely is taking the mountains to avoid the city, which is great for safety reasons, but how long would it take them to travel that far? They may not even be there by the time we arrive.”

  Debbie glanced at the map, using her finger to trace the most direct route to Meeker. “I see what you are saying.”

  Jim said, “Either way, here’s my plan. When we hit Delta, we top off the gas tank and that should give us plenty to get to Meeker and at least back to Delta without having to stop for gas. I’m most worried about highway I-70. It’s one big sidewalk for a Hive to follow.”

  Deb looked at the map again. “What‘s the population of Grand Junction?”

  Jim shook his head. “I have no idea. I would guess it’s around 50,000.”

  “Jesus Jim, what if we run into a Hive of a 1000 or 2000?” Her body shook just thinking about it.

  “Now don’t go borrowing trouble. What if it’s clear sailing all the way?”

  She continued to study the map and said, “I know. I guess we’ll just have to be extra careful.”

  They found a farmstead with a bulk gas tank just before Delta and topped off the tank. Jim added two 5-gallon cans to the top rack of the car, saying, “There. No matter what, we have enough gas to get there and back and not worry about gas again.”

  Everything was going great until they hit the bypass around Grand Junction. They ran into a traffic jam from hell. Both sides of the road were a snarl of dead cars and decaying bodies. Jim stopped the CRV and got out to check the area. Using binoculars, he surveyed the area to see if they could pick their way through, but it appeared all of the ways were blocked. “Let’s walk up on top of that bridge and try to see what the problem is. If we only have to move 30 or 40 cars to get through, it might be worth our time.”

  They walked up to the top of the bridge and stopped dead in their tracks. A 747 airliner had crash-landed on the highway. Debris was scattered all around and there were dead bodies everywhere. They could see a pack of coyotes feeding on the bodies. Jim focused in on them and said. “We need to get the hell out of here right now.”

  “Why? What is going on?” Debbie asked. Debbie hadn’t lived through the experience of the previous winter, when a large pack of coyotes trapped Jim, Sandra and Matt in the cabin, so had no idea how dangerous they could be.

  He handed her the binoculars. “Zoom in on those coyotes eating that body. It’s a fresh kill, meaning we either have a Hive here, or these coyotes are infected too. Either way, we have to get the hell out of Dodge.”

  She zoomed in on the coyotes and said, “I see what you mean. I see foam on the coyote’s mouths, so they’re already infected.”

  They turned around to leave and a huge Great Dane was facing them. It had dirty matted fur, foaming around the mouth, and dull glazed eyes. He started growling and Jim shot him with the 12 gauge.

  Debbie turned back around, looked for the coyotes and gasped, “Oh Shit. Run! The coyotes are coming!”

  Jim began running towards the car. “How many?”

  “Three or four.” The coyotes were coming fast and they took off at a dead run, straight down to the highway.

  Jim looked up and saw that the coyotes were closing the gap quickly. He yelled out, “Quick, into that truck.” He ran up and opened the door on a full size Chevy pick-up. Debbie quickly got in as Jim spun around to face the coyotes. He lined up on the first one that was about 50-yards away and pulled the trigger. The buckshot cut him down. The other two were no more than 50-yards behind, but coming too fast. Debbie slid over into the driver’s seat and Jim jumped in, slamming the door just as the lead coyote reach the vehicle.

  The two coyotes circled the truck, growling and jumping up at the windows, trying to bite through them. The saliva and foam was smeared all over the glass. One jumped up on the hood and was charging at them, smashing into the windshield.

  “Jesus God, please help us.” Debbie prayed.

  Jim was focused on making sure all of the windows were closed tight and asked, “How many do you see?”

  “Just these two. You?”

  “Same here. We have to kill them and get back to the CRV before they start howling and bring the rest of the pack. Last winter we faced off with a huge pack. If there’s a pack that size around here, we’re dead meat. We need to get back to the vehicle and drive the hell out of here.”

  “Jesus Jim, you have to get us out of here.” she screamed. “If a pack of 50 surround us, we don’t stand a chance. They could starve us out.”

  “I know. We have to kill them now.” The second coyote jumped on the hood. They both kept smashing into the windshield and it started to crack. Jim yelled out over the noise of the coyotes snarling, biting and scratching the windshield, “You shoot the one on your side. I’ll shoot the one over here.”

  She put the barrel of her .357 up against the windshield and he put the muzzle of the 12 gauge up against it. Jim said “It’s going to be loud, so open your mouth; it helps. Okay, when I say shoot, take yours out. Okay, ready, wait for it, wait for it . . . NOW.” Both guns fired at almost the same time and both coyotes flew off the hood. The smell of cordite filled the cab of the truck. It was loud and their ears were ringing.

  Jim yelled, “Come on, let’s move.” They jumped out of the truck and made a desperate dash for the CRV. “Only 150 yards to go for safety. Come on, run!” Jim was screaming. Debbie was in front of him and Jim’s lungs began to burn. He had to quit smoking. They had less tha
n a 100 yards to go and Jim was thinking, come on feet, don’t fail me now. At 50 yards to go, he glanced over his shoulder. “Damn. Here they come.” A pack of six coyotes were about 400 yards back and closing fast. “Run damn it! Here they come.”

  Debbie was now 30-feet in front of him. She glanced over her shoulder and, seeing the coyotes, she kicked into high gear and reached the CRV, jumping in the driver’s side. She reached across and opened the other door for Jim.

  Jim ran around the opened door and jumped in. His shotgun barrel hit her in the leg, bounced off and slid under her leg. He slammed the door shut. Debbie grabbed her leg. “Ouch. That hurt.” She said as she rubbed it.

  Jim said, “Sorry. Come on let’s go.”

  The coyotes surrounded the vehicle as she started it and backed up to turn around, running one over with a “thump, thump” as the vehicle lifted up off the ground and bounced back down. She whipped the steering wheel over and crashed into another vehicle, slamming them back and forth. Jim yelled at her, “Get a hold of yourself and calm down. Look first.”

  She yelled back. “Shut up! You’re not helping.” She whipped the wheel the other way, put it in drive and floored it. The creaking, scraping sound and breaking glass from the taillights was heard as they sped off. Jim looked out the back window. The pack was now 20 strong and racing after them.

  “Now what?” She yelled.

  “First, stop yelling. Calm down and catch your breath.”

  Her hands were shaking and she gripped the steering wheel even harder. They quickly out distanced the pack and the coyotes gave up the chase. “Jesus Jim, what about the children? If a pack like that surrounded them, they’re going to be dead.”

  Jim was watching the rear view mirror and said, “I know, but hopefully these coyotes are hanging out near their new food source - people. It looks like that pack is just hunting that area. Anyone on foot would be cut to ribbons.”