Standing up, Mary looked at a small notepad she was holding. “As of right now, we have ten days of food,” she informed them with a sigh.
“You think we could hit a few places on the way to resupply and not have to live off the land?” Bill asked as he finished hanging saddle bags on the last bike. “The cargo racks on the backs of these bikes will hold the packs easy.”
Continuing his work, Johnathan nodded. “Won’t have much choice but to search out some places to stop, but we will only go to places that are way off the beaten path,” Johnathan said.
Separating the food into four piles, Mary started spreading the rest of the supplies out into four piles. “Can we at least try a car?” she asked.
Setting up the two compound bows now, Bill looked up at his wife. “Mary, you saw how fast those infected came at us when we headed to the harbor. The only reason we are alive is because we got on a boat,” Bill said. “And like Johnathan pointed out, we have more things to worry about than infected.”
“Stinkers,” Sandy sang out as she opened a can of brown paint.
“Right, stinkers,” Bill grinned with everyone else.
Laying out the pieces of PVC he’d cut, Johnathan grabbed smaller PVC pipes and started cutting notches on the top and bottom, making vents. “Ladies, we want to get home just as bad as you do, but if we don’t think, we won’t make it,” Johnathan said.
Moving over to the pile of arrows, Mary sat down and started opening the packages of field points. Screwing them on, she sighed. “I know,” she mumbled and wiped a tear from her cheek.
Finished with the compound bows, Bill put them down and moved over to Mary. “Sweetie, you can’t get down,” he told her softly. “I know it hurts, but we have two more that need us with them. If you get down, we could die.”
Lifting her chin, Mary nodded, blinking her eyes dry. “I’m sorry,” she sighed, grabbing another handful of arrows and screwing the tips on. “I wish I wouldn’t have told you no about getting your pilot’s license now.”
Kissing Mary on the cheek, Bill moved over and grabbed his and Johnathan’s recurve bows. “That was just as much my fault as yours,” Bill admitted, grabbing the paint brush from the can of black paint. On the two recurve bows that Mary and Sandy had grabbed, the fiberglass limbs were a bright red. “Never told you, but I was actually happy you put up an argument. I really didn’t want to do it,” Bill confessed, painting the limbs.
“You could’ve fooled me,” Mary chuckled, grabbing more arrows. “You whined like Allie for a week.”
“What did you expect? The boys had just given me my man card,” Bill grinned, hanging the bow on a limb to dry.
Stirring a can of green paint, Sandy gave a groan. “I can’t believe Lance and Ian with those man cards,” she said, shaking her head. “I want to find the son of a bitch that came up with that and break his legs.” Everyone chuckled softly at her as they continued working and was very happy that Johnathan got cans of paint instead of spray paint. The rattling of spray paint, shaking it up, would advertise their location to everything on the mountain side.
Finished with the bows, Bill carried the can of black paint over and started painting the reflectors and rims on the bikes, along with any bright colors on the frame. “Johnathan, have you come up with any new thoughts on the infection?” Bill asked.
During the month on the water, Johnathan had found a frequency that several scientists used each day to talk about what they had found. Scientists from Japan, China, Canada, the US, and Brazil were heard every day at twelve-hundred Zulu; or Greenwich Mean Time. Every day, Johnathan would sit to listen and make notes, filling up three notebooks and every scrap of paper on the boat.
“Several,” Johnathan answered, grabbing a can of epoxy and gluing the pieces of pipe together forming makeshift suppressors.
“So, do you think this will end?” Bill asked, moving to the last bike.
“Depends on what you mean by ‘end’,” Johnathan answered, feeding a small PVC pipe through a large one and gluing the end caps on. “Will the stinkers fall down and die? Well, since they are already dead by our definition and understanding, no. The silicon bacterium is what is running the body, and at the rate of decay that’s been reported, they will be around for decades.”
Finished with the backpacks, Sandy grabbed the light jackets they would wear and started painting them in tiger stripes. “So, this is the end?” she asked in a low voice not stopping her work.
“No, humans are nothing if not resilient,” Johnathan replied, assembling the other homemade silencers. “Several universities have done mathematical calculations and scenarios on a zombie-like outbreak and none were good. They all predicted the fall of civilization in days but even in their studies, they saw humans surviving. The only catch here is; how far will the parasite adapt?”
“What about the bacterium inside us?” Bill asked, hanging Mary’s quiver up beside Sandy’s.
“Parasite- they know it’s unicellular now, but it is another lifeform so you cannot bitch at them too hard,” Johnathan said. “The parasites not currently in a reservoir; i.e. human bodies, are dying out. In animals, they are finding that their immune systems are destroying it, and have confirmed the same is happening inside living humans. At the current rate by the calculations I listened to, in a year, people will die of natural deaths unless they are bitten or infected by body fluids,” Johnathan explained, assembling another suppressor.
“But we will still have the stinkers?” Bill asked, moving over and separating the arrows Mary had put field tips on by length. Counting one hundred and sixty arrows Bill chuckled, knowing the wives got the hundred. Grabbing quivers, Bill started filling them.
Nodding with a sigh, “Yeah, best guess is they will remain mobile for decades. There is almost no decay,” Johnathan said. “When we get home, I will need to dissect a few to confirm this.”
Finished with the jackets, Sandy moved over to the other clothes and a tent. The tent was a hanging tent that attached to three trees, forming a triangle to suspend off the ground. Having read about them, Bill and Johnathan took the only one in the store, liking the fact they could sleep off the ground.
“Johnathan, why didn’t you take those night vision goggles at the store?” Sandy asked.
“They were crap,” Johnathan grunted. “The only thing they would do would be to rob you of your night vision because you couldn’t see more than a few feet with the things on.”
“So, we don’t want night vision?” Sandy asked, grabbing another can of paint.
Looking at the line of suppressors he had made, Johnathan shook his head. “Yes we do, but we want some that actually work.”
About to move over and grab a can of paint to paint the white PVC Johnathan spun around, sniffing the air deeply. At once, everyone jumped up to sniff the air, smelling rotten eggs. “Where is it?” Mary whispered, pulling out the Glock.
Moving over, Johnathan grabbed his recurve bow and some arrows that Bill hadn’t shoved in a quiver. “Wind is coming from the south,” Johnathan answered softly, nocking an arrow as Bill grabbed his own recurve bow.
“There is no way one followed us up the mountain. Hell, we passed two turnoffs. How would they know which way we went?” Bill mumbled, notching an arrow.
“I’m sure there are plenty roaming the mountains,” Johnathan said and then started easing up to the dirt road.
Reaching over, Sandy laid the Ruger pistol beside her and continued working. “I’ve never been a violent person, but I want to wade across the land blowing these things apart,” she growled, dipping her brush back in the can.
Sitting back down, Mary nodded. “When we get home, that is what I’m going to do,” she agreed with a very stern face. “I just hope Bill and Johnathan don’t mind me going through some ammunition.”
Scoffing, Sandy glanced back and saw Bill and Johnathan almost at the road. “They can piss off,” she said turning to Mary. “We are going killing.”
Finally
, Mary relaxed and smiled. “I just hope the boys leave us some,” Mary said as the smile turned into a grin.
Rolling her eyes, Sandy turned back to her work. “I don’t feel sorry for anything that gets in their way,” Sandy grinned as Johnathan stepped out on the road.
Sixty yards away, he saw what at one time had been a teenage boy. Torn and tattered clothes were hanging off his pale body as he raised his arms, letting out a groan and starting to trot toward them. “Spotted us pretty fast,” Bill noted, moving up beside Johnathan.
“Bill, we have on white t-shirts,” Johnathan said, lifting his bow up. When the stinker was halfway, Johnathan pulled back and steadied his breathing. Beside him, Bill was getting worried because Johnathan wasn’t shooting. Lifting his bow up, Bill pulled the arrow back.
When the stinker was ten yards away, Johnathan released the arrow. Streaking across the ten yards, the arrow hit the stinker in the forehead with a ‘thunk’, jerking his head back. In midstride, the stinker collapsed back, crashing to the ground.
Letting his draw down slowly, Bill turned to Johnathan as he eased up to the body. “Had me worried there, Robin Hood. I’m used to you shooting deer at sixty yards,” Bill said, looking down the road and then glancing back, not seeing any more.
“I’ve never shot this bow. I was waiting till he got close enough that I wouldn’t miss,” Johnathan admitted, standing over the body.
Walking up, Bill put an arm on Johnathan’s shoulder. “I know you want to study it, but we have shit to do,” Bill said, squeezing Johnathan’s shoulder.
Grabbing the arrow, Johnathan put his foot on the stinker’s face and pulled his arrow out. Wiping the arrow off on the stinker, Johnathan stepped back as Bill pulled out a lighter. Lighting what was left of the stinker’s clothes, Bill stepped back and they both stared in awe as the body burned, giving off a blue flame with no smoke. “Walking bombs,” Bill said, putting his lighter away.
“Let’s finish up and practice with the bows,” Johnathan said, walking off the road. “This afternoon, let’s move a mile or two and set up somewhere else.”
Following Johnathan, Bill moved up beside him. “How long do you think it will take us to reach Nevada?” he asked in a low voice.
“In these mountains, with these winding dirt roads and the loads we have, at least a month,” Johnathan calculated, giving off an exhausted sigh. “We won’t make good time until we hit areas that are flat. It may be two hundred miles to Nevada, but we’ll have to travel over three hundred on these dirt roads.”
“Hey, I’m just glad you found an atlas,” Bill admitted as they joined the wives.
Getting up, Sandy wiped her hands off on her jeans. “Everything is painted,” she said, moving over to Johnathan. “You took off without putting on your gloves.”
Turning, Johnathan smiled at her. “It won’t happen again,” he smiled, setting his bow down and ripping open a package of mechanic gloves. “Need to break them in.”
After practicing with the bows for most of the day as the paint dried, Johnathan used hose clamps and duct tape to attach suppressors to the M4, Ruger 10/22 and the Ruger pistols. Packing up, the group climbed on their bikes and started on their journey back to their kids.
It was May when they reached the Nevada border, and Lilly was added to the group back at the cabin.
Chapter Three
May 12
As Lilly sat up, she reached over to turn off the alarm clock. Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she looked across the room and saw Jennifer sprawled out over her own bed. “For someone so little, she can sure take up the bed,” Lilly croaked with a smile.
Careful not to hit her head on the overhead bunk, Lilly got out of the bottom bunk bed and turned around to see Allie and Carrie curled up next to each other on the top bunk. About to wake them, Lilly stopped and stepped back. The girls were beyond nice to her, but anytime Lilly was around Lance, both of them would glare at her. “I’ll wait till Jennifer is up,” Lilly mumbled, remembering the narrowed eyes and hostile expressions of the ladybugs whenever Lance put his arm around her.
Not able to help it, Lilly chuckled at seeing Jennifer on her back with her mouth wide open. After talking with everyone, Lilly had found out that Jennifer wouldn’t be fifteen till next month. Having been that age at one time, Lilly understood Jennifer’s reasoning that she was fifteen and would be sixteen soon; a year was soon. More than once at that age, Lilly had used the same reasoning to be thought of as older than she really was.
“Jennifer, time to get up,” Lilly said, tapping her shoulder.
Struggling to open her eyes, Jennifer closed her mouth and smacked her lips. “Uck,” she said, sitting up and sticking her tongue out. “My tongue has fur.”
“Go brush your teeth real fast then,” Lilly chuckled as Jennifer stood up.
“Na, I’ll do it when I shower after workout,” Jennifer said stretching. “You didn’t wake up the ladybugs?”
“I was waiting for you,” Lilly replied, cutting her eyes at the top bunk.
Dropping her arms, Jennifer moved across the room. “Lilly, they love you,” Jennifer said, tapping the girls.
“Unless Lance is around,” Lilly mumbled.
“Not going to argue that,” Jennifer admitted, shaking the girls. “Last year, they thought I liked Lance and were total brats. Allie has a crush on Lance real bad, so that means Carrie does, too.”
Feeling a jealous pang, Lilly quickly ignored it as the ladybugs sat up. “Technically, I’m old enough to be his mom,” Lilly sighed as Allie yawned.
“Yeah, if you would’ve gotten pregnant at eleven,” Jennifer snorted.
Pulling off her sleep shirt, Lilly put on her clothes that she had laid out. “I had a friend that was,” Lilly said. “Granted, I didn’t start my cycle until I was thirteen.”
“Man, that would suck having a baby at eleven,” Jennifer gasped while getting dressed.
“She was twelve when it was born, but the problem was the daddy was her cousin and he was nineteen,” Lilly said, grabbing the brush.
Sitting on the bed and putting on her boots, Jennifer looked up and shook her head. “Ladybugs, come on,” Jennifer said, shoving her feet in her boots.
“We’re up,” Carrie whined, climbing down with Allie following. As the two got dressed, Lilly moved over and made up the bunk bed.
Tying her boots, Jennifer stood up and grabbed the hairbrush, moving over to brush Carrie’s hair. “Not so hard,” Carrie groaned, pulling on her pants.
“Allie, want me to brush your hair?” Lilly asked when she’d finished making the beds.
Wiping sleep out of her eyes, Allie nodded with a yawn and then pulled on her pants. Grabbing another brush, Lilly went to work on Allie’s hair. Pausing to let Allie pull on a shirt, Lilly breathed a sigh of relief that Allie never complained that she was brushing too hard.
That couldn’t be said for Carrie as she looked back at Jennifer. “You pull too hard,” Carrie snapped.
“I brush my hair just as hard,” Jennifer snapped right back, grabbing a handful of the long red hair and putting it in a ponytail.
As Carrie put on her vest, Jennifer made up her bed and grabbed her own vest. Putting it on, she stopped and looked over at Lilly. “Damn, they’re already up,” she groaned.
In the short time she had been with the group, Lilly had come to the conclusion that the boys were super human. Both moved at light speed, were always reading or doing something, and hardly slept. “You sure?” Lilly asked.
“You don’t smell it?” Jennifer asked, moving to the gun rack to get hers and Lilly’s airsoft rifle.
Sniffing the air, Lilly smelled the aroma of coffee. “It could be on a timer,” she offered, putting Allie’s hair in a ponytail.
“Yeah, right,” Jennifer huffed, handing Lilly her airsoft rifle.
As Lilly grabbed her vest she fought not to shiver, remembering the videos Jennifer showed her about Ian and Lance’s ‘deeds’ they’d pulled on the bi
kers. Not ashamed in the least to admit it, Lilly was terrified of what the two were capable of.
Walking out with Jennifer, Lilly paused, seeing Lance walk into the living area while carrying a cup of coffee, wearing his tactical pants and boots with no shirt. “Morning,” he said smiling, then blew on his coffee, taking a sip as the muscles in his chest and arms rippled.
Turning her gaze from Lance, Lilly blinked as she walked to the kitchen. “Shit,” she gasped, feeling flushed at seeing Lance without a shirt on.
Setting her airsoft on the table, Jennifer moved to the coffee pot grinning, hearing the soft gasp from Lilly. “Yeah, and I had to grow up beside them,” Jennifer chuckled, grabbing mugs.
Taking a mug, Lilly fought the flush from her face. “Makes me wish I was younger,” Lilly admitted, filling her mug.
Giving a snort, Jennifer sipped her coffee and cut her eyes over as Ian walked in. Like Lance, Ian only had on his pants and boots. “Hey,” Ian said with a huge smile, looking at Jennifer.
Lowering her cup, Jennifer set her cup on the counter, expecting Ian to hug her, but Ian walked past and grabbed a mug. Rolling her eyes up and giving a sigh, Jennifer moved over to Ian. “Forget something?” Jennifer asked.
Looking down at his bare chest, “Lance and I were sparring. My shirt is on the couch,” Ian replied, grabbing the sugar.
Turning to Jennifer, Ian saw her holding her arms out. Panic crossed his face as he stepped over and hugged her tight. “I’m sorry,” he said as Jennifer laid her head on his chest.
“You’re forgiven,” Jennifer sighed, hugging him back. “How long have you two been up?”
“An hour or so,” he replied as she let him go. “The tigers wouldn’t stop tripping the sensors.”
Forsaken World (Book 3): Rite of Passage Page 2