Infected Chaos

by Loren Edwards

  “You prepared to go, Harry?” David asked.

  “Yep,” Harry nodded in a deep draw.

  “Sorry about your pig, Harry. She was delicious.” David chuckled.

  Harry turned his chin up and swatted the air. “It is what it is.”

  David turned to Dane and Patricia. “See if you can grab meds from there, but there’s one more thing I want you guys to do.”

  Dane and Patricia exchanged looks.

  “What is it?” Dane asked.

  “The Ford dealership there has a few large, flatbed trucks. One caught my eye weeks ago when I ran over there to Dale’s machine shop,” David explained. “The F750 would be nice to have for run-ins on the roads. Plus, if we throw a good brush guard on the front, we could push some of these abandoned cars out of our way when we scout for supplies. Bring it back here.”

  “The one with the box bed?” Dane asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Dane smiled at the thought. He remembered seeing the same, massive diesel truck a week before the outbreak. It was a beautiful, two-axle cargo truck with large, aggressive tires. He thought it looked more like a civilian version of the military deuce-in-half.

  “The silver one with four doors?” Dane asked smiling.

  David nodded. “I think it’s four-wheel drive, too. It will certainly come in handy out there.”

  “Sounds good; let’s get loaded,” Patricia announced clapping her hands together.

  Dane, Bruce, Harry, and Patricia loaded David’s truck. They each brought a backpack loaded with snacks and a firearm with an extra box of ammunition. Dane told David and Montgomery it would be a four hour trip; if they didn’t return in twenty-four hours, they should come look for them. Dane showed the map to Montgomery, telling him the route he intended to take. If the pharmacy in Pordum was still untouched, they would load all they could, then stop at the Ford Dealership. If the pharmacy had been wiped clean, they would try the stores and nursing homes.

  The drive to Pordum was uneventful. Bruce and Harry slept most of the way, and Patricia spent time filing her nails. It wasn’t until they entered Pordum that they ran into more than two meandering creatures.

  “Wake up, guys,” Dane announced.

  “We here?” Bruce asked wiping the sleep from his eyes.

  Numerous cars and bodies laid along the city streets, just like Whittaker. Dane drove over four creatures and knocked down two others as he navigated the streets. He watched two creatures sprint around a parked car and chase them. It reminded him of two dogs chasing after a car. He accelerated from the first infected. When the second creature sprinted after the truck, Dane slowed then slammed on the brakes. Everyone laughed when the undead creature ran head first into the rear of the truck. Dane creased a smiled when he looked in the rearview mirror; the infected creature laid sprawled out on its back.

  “That was funny,” Bruce laughed.

  After the laughter died down, Dane spied the pharmacy sign. He told Bruce to grab the twelve-inch-long wrench they brought from the hanger just in case they needed to break the glass doors. He brought the truck to a halt four feet from the pharmacy door.

  “Crap!” Patricia groaned. “Someone has been here.”

  The front doors of the pharmacy were broken off their hinges. One door was lying on the ground and the other was missing. The odds of finding the medicine they needed looked grim.

  “Harry, stand by the door as look out. We don’t want to be trapped in there if a group of infected follow us in.” Dane instructed.

  “Not a problem.”

  Dane grabbed his backpack and exited the truck. He led the small group into the store with his rifle at the ready. He shifted the firearm left, then right as he scanned his route to the back of the pharmacy.

  “Whoever was here made a mess,” Patricia stated looking at the strewn of contents on the floor.

  “Clean up on aisle 2,” Bruce chuckled.

  Patricia sighed.

  Dane picked up a box of large trash bags and tossed it to Patricia. “We’ll need these. Bruce, go right. Patricia stick with me.”

  Bruce did as instructed. He held the twelve-gauge shotgun to his shoulder as he navigated the store shelving. He bent down to pick up his favorite candy bar and placed two in his pocket. The aisles were cluttered with items that fell from the shelves.

  Dane approached the pharmacy counter with caution. A metal, rolling security door extended from the ceiling to the top of the pharmacy counter. The thought of there being infected locked behind the counter entered his mind.

  Patricia stepped to the side of Dane. “Maybe the reason the security gate is closed is because those before us locked creatures in there?” she pointed.

  “Whoa, hold up,” Dane blurted. He leaned over the counter and placed his ear against the wood panel. He paused to listen. He didn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat.

  Dane placed his hand at the bottom of the security gate and gave it a yank. “Crap! It’s locked,” he stated.

  He looked above the gate and around the edges and walked to the side door that lead into the room and tried the doorknob; it was locked, also.

  “It might be latched to the counter. Break the counter and free the gate,” Patricia offered.

  “Do you know if David has a crowbar in his truck?” Dane asked Patricia

  Patricia shrugged her shoulders.

  “All right. Wait here; I’ll go back to the truck and see.”

  Dane ran back to the front of the store and peeked outside. Satisfied it was clear, he ran to the truck and searched the tool box; he found a hand axe. Dane rushed back to the pharmacy counter.

  “If the lock of the gate is hooked to the wood on the counter, let’s break the counter,” Dane suggested.

  After a few swings, the latch from the counter. He rose the rolling security door. His fears were realized when two infected creatures wearing white lab coats let out a growl and lunged at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce swung the wrench, striking the first infected pharmacist. Patricia shot the second infected in the chin, sending it against a shelf. It returned to full strength almost as quickly as it had stumbled. Patricia fired again, this time striking the female creature in the left cheekbone. Dane looked over the counter and saw the two creatures lying motionless.

  “Damn! That was close!” Dane huffed. “Nearly blew out my eardrums, woman!”

  Patricia smirked. “Seriously? You were nearly eaten alive, and you’re whining about your ear?”

  Bruce jumped the counter and made it to the side door opening it for Dane and Patricia.

  On the left wall of the room, Bruce found a locked cabinet and pried the doors apart with a knife; he whistled when he found narcotics. He threw all the pain pill bottles in a backpack and slid the pack over his back. Dane was on his third row of bottles before he found Silvadene. He placed two boxes of the cream in his shoulder bag.

  Patricia opened a garbage bag and held it open as Bruce and Dane arm-swiped the bottles into the bag. It filled quickly. Patricia carried the bag to the truck. She returned to see Dane tying the second bag closed. The shelving was three-quarters bare.

  “This is great! David is going to be happy,” Patricia smiled.

  “Bruce, go out and find all the aspirin, ibuprofen, and cough medicine. Throw ‘em in a trash bag,” Dane instructed. “Patricia, find all the Band-Aids, first aid kits, gauze, and anything else you think a first aid kit might need. I’ll grab the rest.”

  Patricia and Bruce scattered about the store looking for their designated items. Dane looked to the front of the store; Harry stood at the entrance. He gave Harry a thumbs-up. Harry returned the gesture. Dane looked at his wrist watch and calculated that they needed three more minutes before they needed to leave. He worried the gun shots Patricia had fired were like ringing the dinner bell. He wasn’t going to risk it. They had what they came for, and the rest of the items were a bonus for making life easier in the hanger.

  Dane looked at his watch. “Guy
s, let’s go!”

  Harry pointed across the street when Dane approached. Dane followed Harry’s direction and witnessed a group of six infected walking their way. He knew they would come after hearing the gunshot.

  “Let’s go!” Dane yelled. “We got to move! Now!”

  They hurried the loot to the back of the truck and climbed in the cab. Dane turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine as it sputtered; he remembered the difficulty the truck had when they were escaping the pharmacy in Whittaker. He made a mental note to look at the spark plugs when they returned to the hanger; they couldn’t risk being this far from safety without a reliable motor.

  Dane reversed the truck, switched gears, and exited the parking lot. The truck passed within inches of the six infected creatures as Dane turned left. He had six blocks to drive before turning onto Willow Drive, which intersected Sycamore Drive. The dealership was yards from the interstate. His stomach turned into a knot thinking about the dealership and knowing the infected might be covering the place.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Dane’s nightmare came to light when he approached Sycamore. Hundreds of infected lined the fence separating Sycamore from the interstate. They could hear the growls and moans the infected made before even seeing them. The smell of decaying flesh struck Dane’s nostrils before they tuned onto Willow Drive. The sight, the sound, and the smell would be something none of them would forget. Dane slowed the truck to a crawl as his attention fixated on the ghastly sight of the number of infected walking aimlessly along the highway.

  “My God,” Patricia murmured at the sight.

  Bruce and Harry leaned forward between the front seats to look out across the interstate. The sight of hundreds of undead creatures was an awe inspiring moment for everyone in the truck.

  Dane turned right onto Sycamore. The dealership was a hundred yards ahead of them on the right. Hundreds of creatures lined the metal fence to his left, hissing and growling as they passed. Dane kept a tight grip on the steering wheel and readied his foot in case he needed to speed away. The stress of the situation sent Dane’s blood pressure skyward. He was passing death.

  “There must be thousands,” Bruce exclaimed.

  “You good in the back?” Dane asked looking in the rearview mirror.

  “Yeah,” Bruce and Harry returned, not sounding very convincing.

  “We’ll pull up to the truck, and Patricia and I will run into the sales office to look for the keys. You guys hold tight in the truck,” Dane explained.

  “Yeah, no problem,” Harry mumbled.

  “You sure this is worth it?” Patricia asked, her voice crack.

  Dane drove the truck onto the dealership parking lot and turned left into the first aisle. He spotted the F750 eight trucks from the entrance. He parked behind it and scanned the surroundings. Dane spotted two infected creatures stumbling between the truck and the sales office. He nodded to Patricia and exited the truck. Dane jogged to the F750 and tried the door. The driver’s side door opened and the interior light came on, surprising him. He climbed the steps and leaned into the cab; there was no key in the ignition.

  Dane jumped from the truck and slowly closed the door, trying not to arouse nearby infected.

  “Follow me, Pat, and bring the wrench.”

  To Dane’s surprise, the sales office door was unlocked. They entered and quickly searched for the key cabinet. In the corner office, they found a large wall cabinet behind a counter; it was locked. Dane spun on his heels and fumbled through the drawers under the counter. He found six different keys and threw them over his shoulder to Patricia.

  “See if these will open the cabinet; I’ll search some more.”

  Patricia unlocked the cabinet with the fourth key. She swung the both doors open. “It’s open,” Patricia proclaimed.

  Dane scanned the tags on the keys, turning every placard over to read. He knew a truck key would be different than a car key.

  “This one?” Patricia asked holding up an oversized key. “It says grey F750 on it.”

  “That’s it!” Dane smiled. He grabbed the key from Patricia’s hand and placed it in his front pocket. “It’s time to get out of here. This place is terrifying.”

  Dane jogged out of the sales office with Patricia behind him. Across the parking lot, Dane saw Harry and Bruce stood outside the truck fighting five infected creatures. Harry was on the far side of the truck, struggling with a one. Dane sprinted across the parking lot, ignoring three creatures as he rushed to help.

  “Harry needs help!” Bruce yelled at Dane.

  Dane slung himself around the truck. Harry wrestling with an infected. Dane kicked the undead to the ground. He turned to see Harry holding his left arm.

  Dane’s eyes widened. “He bit you?”

  Harry nodded, grimacing in pain. “Right below the wrist.”

  The creature growled as it rose to its feet. Dane pulled a six-inch knife from his hip, gripped its handle, and slammed the blade deep into the creature’s skull as it rushed at him. Dane turned when he heard another growl.

  Dane turned to see Harry was pressed against the truck screaming as a second creature biting into his neck.

  “Get him off of me!” Harry screamed kicking his legs.

  Patricia rounded the truck to see Dane stabbing his knife in the back of the zombies’ skull.

  Harry slumped to the asphalt, trying to breathe; gurgles of air escaped the open cavity around his wound. Patricia held her stomach; she thought she was going to vomit. She looked to Dane. He stood in front of Harry, watching the old man try to breathe. Dane’s face was blank when he raised his pistol and pulled the trigger. Harry slumped to the asphalt, his eyes wide open, staring into nothingness.

  “Jesus!” Patricia exclaimed.

  “Yeah, it’s time to move!” Dane commanded as he nudged her in the arm. “That’s going to rile up the natives. We need to get out of here now!”

  Dane jumped in the F750 and turned the ignition. The engine spun to life. Dane glanced at the fuel gauges and cussed. The tanks were less than a quarter full.

  “We’ll need to find some diesel fuel before we get back to the airfield,” Dane yelled to Patricia, who climbed in behind the truck’s steering wheel.

  “Let’s go!” Dane yelled. He waited for Patricia to drive forward before he reversed the big box truck from its parking stall.

  Patricia slowed to a crawl, then yielded to the right to let Dane take the lead. She saw a group of infected walking toward them from Sycamore Drive. She pointed; Dane acknowledged with a nod. The roar of the diesel engine rumbled past her.

  Dane saw the group of twenty infected. He exited the dealership onto Sycamore; twenty yards in front of him was the mob of creatures. He accelerated the diesel motor to thirty miles an hour and he crashed into the mob. The F750’s massive weight didn’t slow as it plowed through the crowd. Dane smiled when he looked in the side mirror to see Patricia on his bumper, passing through the mob without an issue.

  Dane looked at the fuel gauge; he didn’t like being on the road with so little fuel in the tank. Dane had fifteen miles to go before they could reach a diesel fueling station reserved for oil company trucks. It was behind a locked gate, off limits to the general public, but Dane believed he wouldn’t have a problem with going through the gate with his truck. He glanced at his wristwatch; he had three more hours before nightfall.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Cliff and Doug stood together, looking at the fishing bobber.

  “Are you sure this is a smart thing to do?” Doug asked.

  Cliff sighed, “There’s a part of me that says it is and the other half says it isn’t. If this warehouse is as wonderful as Chris and Cassandra say it is, then I think it’s worth it.”

  “But,” Doug said.

  “But, I don’t know if it’s worth the risk. That mob of infected, a few days ago, was scary to drive through. I can’t imagine trying to drive through more than we did. I fear we might come across more mobs like
that on the way to Buy-Mart.”

  “It’s worth the risk, Cliff,” Jake said walking up behind them.

  Cliff twisted around to see Jake casting a fishing line into the pond. “What makes you so assured it’s worth it?”

  “Because this place isn’t fortified and our supplies will run empty and then what? You think it’ll be wise to drive there we no supplies? You think about it, you have a fortified building, the warehouse, and all the supplies you’ll need. It’s a win-win.”

  “He does make it sound like Shangri-la, doesn’t he?” Doug smiled.

  “Excuse me,” Cassandra spoke in a soft voice.

  The men turned to see Cassandra with both hands cupped together, resting in front of her waist.

  “What is it, Cassandra?” Doug asked.

  “I’d like to see if Cliff had time to talk?” she asked nervously.

  Cliff handed Doug his fishing pole and walked to where she was standing. He could tell she had some concern. Was it the kids? Did they not have the right asthma medicine Owen needed?

  “What is it, Cassandra?” Cliff asked.

  She reached for his arm and led him from the guys. Cliff knew it must be important; whatever she had to tell him, she didn’t want the others to know. His curiosity piqued.

  A few steps away, she stopped and turned toward him. “I know we haven’t spoken candidly before. I wanted to thank you for Owen’s medicine and for saving my husband’s life,” she explained, staring at her feet.

  He wanted to reassure her she had nothing to be bashful about. He thought she was a lovely woman and a good mother to the boys. He could see the beauty behind the stress that overtook her since the outbreak. He placed his right hand on her left shoulder and squeezed trying to assure her. “It’s fine. It was something that had to be done. I’m glad we could help,” he smiled.

  Jennifer saw Cliff standing with Cassandra as she walked passed a window. She stopped and watched. Cassidy called from the kitchen, but she ignored her. She stood, intently watching Cliff and Cassandra. She had saw Doug run his hand across her rear in the kitchen the day before. She didn’t react to his move unlike how Jennifer thought she would. The thought of Cassandra making a move on Cliff made her jealous.