by Greg Dragon
She was still standing in the archway between the living room and the kitchen. Silent tears were slipping down her cheeks, smearing her mascara and leaving trails in her blush.
“What we got left in the fridge?” He ignored her distress, and the disturbance of her makeup. She’d fix that soon enough, or else.
“Bacon, eggs, some ham from the roast on Sunday. That’s about it. The milk is gone, and almost all the butter.”
“Breakfast for lunch sounds good. Best to use up all the fresh stuff, and pack the other stuff so we can take it with us. Never know what we might need.”
With a satisfied grunt, he turned back to cleaning the next gun lined up on the coffee table. He’d be finished with these, and ready to eat by the time his lazy-ass woman got his lunch cooked.
“Perfect timing,” he muttered with a grin.
* * *
Janet grimaced once she was safely back in the kitchen. It was a good thing Conner was distracted by his preparations, or he would probably have punched her for not having any bread to make toast with.
It wasn’t her fault there wasn’t any left in the store when she’d gone out two days before. People had already started panicking, after watching a day’s worth of increasingly bad news about the flu and the reports of the dead rising to attack their families before getting out into the streets.
So she’d pushed a cart around, picking up whatever canned goods she found, along with some powdered milk and three bags of sugar. Connor had said those would be good to have.
The spice aisle was still stocked, so she’d gotten salt, pepper and the other things Connor let her season his food with. Chili powder and Cajun mix, mostly. Some ketchup and mustard, and jar after jar of dill pickles in all the different cuts the store stocked had finished out her spree.
Connor had said to max out his only credit card, so she’d gotten as much as she could, and when she was done the card balance was beyond his small limit and into overdraft status, with the high interest rate to go with it.
Not that it mattered, really. Even if this—whatever it was—ended and things got back to normal, Conner didn’t have a job anymore, so she’d be the one to pay off the card.
Janet fried up bacon in one pan while she got two eggs to cook perfectly over easy for Connor. He hated badly cooked eggs, and over the years she’d gotten good at making them just right. Anything less than perfect went on her plate. She didn’t mind. It all tasted the same anyway, especially with the lingering taste of blood from a bruised mouth.
While the pans were sizzling, Janet couldn’t keep her mind from straying back to what she’d seen on the television. The beautiful city of Paris was a smoking ruin, with crowds of people running around in a panic, being attacked by other people.
Dead people.
Janet didn’t want to admit it, but that’s what they were. They had been alive, but then they got sick and died. They didn’t stay dead, but reanimated with an unending craving for the flesh of the living. She’d seen enough speculation on the Internet to know that this was a very bad situation, and that it wasn’t going to get better any time soon.
And it probably never would get better. It looked like every government in the world had gone silent. She wondered if any of them were still alive. If the president and his wife, their sweet daughters, had managed to get to safety.
Since there’d been no news from Washington DC lately, other than some oddly worded requests for citizens to remain calm and to protect themselves, she doubted it. If the president were alive, he’d be talking to the people. He wouldn’t run out on the country when it needed his leadership the most.
People on the web were saying that all the military had pulled out and just left the citizens on their own. The police in most cities had been overrun by the dead, or people looking for safety. Many of them now joined the ranks of the dead roaming the streets. She’d seen it on the footage uploaded since the first days of the “situation”, as the reporters were calling it.
Situation. Janet would laugh at that at any other time. It wasn’t a situation; it was the downfall of humanity, for god’s sake. Man’s last go at destroying the civilization it had taken centuries to build.
Well, there was nothing she could do about it but try to survive. Janet was determined to get through this, one way or another. If it meant sticking with Conner, then that was what she’d do. At least until she got the opportunity to put a bullet between his soulless eyes.
Why she was so set on living, she didn’t know. There’d been many days she didn’t care one way or another. All Janet knew was her mind was set on it, and she’d do whatever it took to come out a survivor.
With a sniff, she plated up the meal before going into the bathroom to fix her face. Connor liked her makeup to be flawless. It was too hard to look at her otherwise, he always said.
* * *
Night fell with an eerie silence. The few people left in the neighborhood were either too sick to be out and about, or were smart enough to stay indoors. There had been some looting, and some gangs going around doing their part to mess the world up even more than it already was.
Connor had been true to his word, and they’d spent the rest of the afternoon packing up his pickup, settling things into the bed and putting tarps over it all. Then he’d tied it down with ratcheting straps, checking each one several times to make sure nothing would shift, or become uncovered.
Janet had helped, holding back any sign she was still sore or in pain. Connor hated for her to look hurt, as if it had been her fault he couldn’t keep his hands, fists or feet off her.
With their clothes and personal items stowed in the back seat, Janet stopped and looked around the house. She wasn’t exactly sad to be leaving it. There hadn’t been any good memories to associate with the building, only the ghosts of Connor’s anger, and her muffled cries.
Connor leaned out the window, and watched her for a minute.
“Get a good look. I don’t think we’ll be coming back here. Not any time soon, anyway.”
Janet nodded and closed the door into the kitchen. She didn’t bother to lock it. There wasn’t anything of value left inside, other than the flat screen TV that had stopped working when the power failed an hour before.
If anybody wanted it, they were welcome to it. She’d seen enough gore on the HD screen to fill a lifetime’s worth of nightmares. Somehow, she didn’t think she’d get away from the true horror that was going on. Soon she’d have real-life experience to make those dreams even worse.
Janet went around the truck and began to pull up the garage door. Conner started the truck, and the rumble filled her ears, drowning out the rattle as the segments rolled up overhead.
As soon as she’d joined Conner in the truck, he eased out of the garage and rolled out to the street, lights off. There was enough moonlight to see their way to the intersection, and within minutes they’d gotten blocks away from home and headed towards the distribution center warehouse.
Connor’s plan was still to take a loaded truck, even if he had to fill it himself. Janet hadn’t bothered to try to talk him out of it. His mind was made up, and she knew it was partly to get something over on his boss that was behind it.
The fact that they would actually need the food and supplies didn’t make her feel better about what Connor was going to do. She just accepted it with some part of her brain, the part that was looking out for her survival.
Janet rolled the window down a little, listening to the silent city. She thought she could hear faint screams and gunfire, but told herself she was imagining things. Letting her fears make up things that weren’t really there.
The city smelled of burning. No matter what she told herself, that was real. The people might be hiding, but the city was burning. Whether the reports were true or not, the reaction had been the same, as it always was when people were afraid. They panicked, they rioted, and they burned.
With little traffic on the road, Connor was making good time towards the wareho
use. The lights weren’t working at any of the intersections they came up on, so Connor only slowed down, looked in all directions, and went on through.
There wasn’t a cop car to be seen, though Janet was sure some of the burned wrecks they passed had been black and whites. Other than some dogs roaming between the alleys, they could be the only living things in the city.
The thought made Janet shudder. Maybe the city was so quiet was because it had already fallen. Maybe she and Connor were the only people alive in the area. But no, if that were true, she would have seen it on the news. Something like that would have to have been a big enough story still to have at least made a local report.
Connor’s grunt as he turned off the road broke Janet’s train of thought. The truck was idling next to a guardhouse, and Connor was getting out. He pulled a bunch of keys out of the back pocket of his jeans, and took the short steps to the guardhouse door. It was dark, and no one seemed to be inside.
He fumbled a minute until he found the key for the door, which he unlocked and pushed open. Connor took a step back, waiting to see if anyone—any thing—came out. When nothing happened, he leaned inside and fumbled around.
Janet knew he was getting the right key into the machine that would unlock the huge gate in front of them. They would get inside, choose a truck, hopefully one loaded already, and be on their way.
It was going to be a long night, and she had to drive Connor’s truck, following him to this mystical hunting camp he was so hung up on.
The thought made her yawn, and she could only stare blankly as the gate began to slide open.
Chapter Five
Dara had spent a lot of time going over the route she and Ted would take to their new home. Google Maps had helped her find potential trouble spots and mark what she hoped was the fastest way to the mountains on the printed maps she’d bought.
She’d ruled out going through any major cities, and looked for ways around even minor towns. Most of the time, she’d been lucky, and there had been back roads she could take around most places that were more than wide spots in the road.
Unfortunately, the only good route around one small city was taking the business bypass. It still took her far too close to the outskirts of the city, but it was the best way she could figure out that wouldn’t add extra hours to the drive.
While Ted didn’t mind riding as much as he had just after the accident, he still tired of long trips and could be come anxious and angry. The last thing she wanted was to have to deal with Ted in one of his moody spells. It was hard enough to handle at home, where he felt safe.
Dara sighed and watched the endless countryside glide by the old moving van’s windows. They’d last been close to a town several hours back, when they’d took a side trip and stopped for lunch. Their meal was now only a fading memory, and she knew she’d have to turn off this road and head towards the area where she’d planned to stop for the night.
It was getting dark. The cool air that swept into the truck through her open window was only partly successful in keeping her awake.
“I’m hungry, Dara,” Ted said with a heartbreaking childishness in his voice.
“I know, Sweetie. We’ll be stopping soon.” Dara tried to keep the tiredness from her voice. Anything less than an upbeat tone could send her husband from his sunny good self into the whiny, mean bully she dreaded.
Nothing she did would bring back the good Ted until he’d worked through it himself. As he recovered, these moods had become lest frequent, and hadn’t lasted as long, but she worried about Ted freaking out on the road.
Well, there was nothing to do but get off this road and find the small hotel she’d chosen for the night. It had a small restaurant attached, and that would be good enough for her. Dara wasn’t used to driving for hours on end, and she could use a good night’s sleep.
The sign for the exit she needed came up, and Dara slowed, ready to take the off ramp. As she turned the van carefully onto the small, two-lane road, she could see movement in the near-darkness that had fallen. Large shadows were converging on the road, and she slowed even more.
The van was barely moving now, and Dara still couldn’t see much. The night was getting darker, and the headlights didn’t show much.
Dara jumped when something ran out onto the road in front of her, barely showing as a streak before it was gone. She hit the brakes by instinct, afraid to hit something that would damage the van and leave the two of them out in the middle of nowhere.
That might be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, girl.
“Damn it,” Dara muttered. She stared out all the windows, but all she could see were moving shadows. Through the open window on her side, odd moaning sounds got louder as the shadows neared.
“Dara, did you see the man?”
Dara jumped. For a minute, she’d forgotten Ted was there, and his question jolted her. Man? Was that what had run in front of her? God, she could have killed him!
“Was it a man, Ted, or a deer?”
“It was a man. A white man. He had pajamas on. Isn’t that silly?”
“Yes, it is.” Dara sat for a moment, lost in thought. If a man was running around out in the country in his night clothes, then the sickness must be here already.
Her stomach churned. Part of her plan had been to escape the spread of the disease by leaving early, to get up into the sparsely populated mountains before things got bad.
Now, with Ted’s sighting and the growing sounds assaulting her ears through the window, she realized she might have made a horrible mistake.
Without thinking, she began to roll up her window. The van was still sitting in the middle of the road, idling. She was about to let off the brake and drive forward, as fast as she could, when there was a loud thump on the side of the van.
Dara screamed a little, more of a soft screech, really, but it was enough to get Ted upset. He began crying as more and more thumps hit the van, coming in from all directions.
* * *
Janet had fallen into a restless doze, slumped against the driver’s side door of Connor’s pickup truck. She was dreaming about sunny beaches and fruity drinks, something she’d never experienced in her real life. It was nice, and she was pissed when she was jostled out of the dream.
At first she couldn’t tell what had woken her, and she had settled back against the door when movement across the lot caught her eye. It was hard to tell in the dwindling light, but it looked like someone heading for the warehouse.
Probably someone with the same idea as us, she thought, squinting into the shadows. Figured they’d raid the place while there was still something to get.
She hated to disturb Connor in the middle of the job, but she was afraid to be out here by herself as it was. Janet picked up the small radio and keyed the transmit button.
“Connor, I think we have company.”
“How many?”
Connor sounded pissed, even over the static from the radio, but she knew he’d have been more upset if she hadn’t called and he’d been taken unaware.
“Only one, I think,” she answered. Try as she might, Janet couldn’t see more than the single, slow-moving figure emerging from the shadows.
“You think. Can you count, you stupid bitch?” Connor was definitely pissed now, and Janet cringed as if he could reach through the device and hit her.
“I can only see one person, Connor. They’re moving slowly, headed towards the warehouse. It’s getting dark out here, and the sun’s in my eyes.”
Let him do to her what he would, she decided. She was doing the best she could.
Janet could hear the heavy sigh even through the static. “Okay, I’m coming out. Try not to panic and do something stupid.”
More stupid than staying with an abusive asshole? Janet didn’t think it was possible. If she had any sense, she’d take off right now, and leave Connor to whatever confrontation was coming. She had enough stuff loaded into the bed of the pickup to last her for a while, and Connor could take car
e of himself.
Janet had gotten lost in that fantasy and nearly screeched when movement in the side mirror caught her eye. She realized it was Connor, crouched and moving up beside the truck in time to avoid that mistake. Janet stayed still and watched as he moved up to kneel beside the front bumper, staring towards the figure coming towards them.
She didn’t dare move. It would call attention to the fact that the truck wasn’t empty, and piss Connor off in one easy step. Janet could barely breathe as the person sneaking up on them moved out of the shadowy fringe of the parking lot, which was surrounded by tall pines, and stepped into the moonlight.
Despite her best intentions, Janet gasped. It was enough sound to attract the person’s attention, and he—she could see it was a man now—changed directions and headed toward the truck.
“Damn it,” Connor grunted. He stood up and began walking towards the other man. “Hey, dude. There’s plenty here for the both of us. You let me get finished loading the big truck here, and you can take whatever you want.
There was no response, and Janet began to sweat. Why wasn’t he saying something? Connor was being nice, in his own way, walking with his hands held out, not threatening at all.
The man began growling, a weird moaning sound that carried all too well through the cool night air. One of the infected. Dear god, Connor was going to die. She was going to be left alone with one of the shambling, hungry dead.
Janet fumbled with the ignition, not sure if she would simply drive away, or if she would try to hit the man before he could get to Connor. That’s when she realized Connor had taken the truck’s keys when he went into the warehouse.
The bastard. Janet nearly threw up. Wouldn’t that serve him right, to have to sit in her vomit? But she knew he wouldn’t care. He’d make her lick it up, if that’s what it took.
Janet could only sit and watch, unarmed and trapped inside the truck, as Connor got close enough to the man to see him clearly.