Hobbs walked back to the front of the store where the two men lay. The minutes turned into hours. Hobbs extended his shift and waited until he was halfway through Bobbie’s shift before he decided to wake up Cowan instead. He was beginning to become a little bit weary of Bobbie. He just did not feel comfortable having him watch over them yet. He didn’t think the old man was capable of outright killing them but he didn’t want to take any chances. He knew that losing someone would drive someone mad. Plus the man needed to get some sleep as they did not know what would be in store for them the next day. Hobbs nudged Cowan’s foot him from a distance. Just in case Cowan woke up startled and shot him thinking he was a zombie. Cowan was one to shoot first and ask questions later.
“Cowan, Cowan, wake up.” “It is your turn to take the next shift.” Cowan woke up a little bit groggy. His eyes had sleep in them as he scraped the hard crust from his eyes. “What happened to Bobbie? Wasn’t he supposed to take the next shift?” “I don’t know if I trust him to watch us while we sleep. He might lose it or freeze again so I took half of his shift and figured you can take the other half.” “What happened when I fell asleep?” “I just think it is better that we don’t. Just leave it at that.” Cowan looked over at Bobbie who seemed to be still asleep. “Alright I guess better we don’t. He probably needs more sleep than we do.” “There hasn’t been much activity since you were asleep.” “Alright then get some sleep I will wake you guys when it is morning.” Cowan got up and put on his top and his vest trying to shake off the grogginess. Hobbs just laid down and put his head on the cold metal shelf and tried to fall asleep. Sleep alluded him as he kept shifting over onto one side then the other. Cowan stood up and just walked around to stretch out his legs and shake off the sleep that still plagued him. He walked towards the back door and looked around to make sure there was nothing that made its way inside despite the small barricade. Being satisfied there was nothing he walked back to the front door.
Chapter 10 What Once Was Is No More
Travis finally came too. He smelled something rancid. He opened his eyes hoping to realize he had dreamt everything up. What he saw were bits and pieces of the cracker that was stained red and yellow. He immediately looked down at his arm. The blood had seeped through the gauze and bandage. He turned and reached for the IFAK and pulled out fresh gauze and laid it on top of the pack. He removed the end of the bandage that was tucked in. He slowly unraveled it rolling it up on top of the other arm. He slowly peeled off the gauze not wanting to reopen the wound. The wound was oozing with yellow puss mixed with blood. He threw the used up gauze against the wall. He pulled out the fresh gauze and re-bandaged the wound. He opened up the bottle that contained the antibiotics. He took three more pills washing it down with water.
It was time for him to move on. First, however, he needed more information about what was going on outside. He braced himself against the door as he stood up. He contemplated if he was going to take his rifle and axe or just one of them. The rifle could put the zombies down quickly but in turn would attract other potential predators dead or living. The axe would take more of an effort but it was silent and he would not have to worry about any mechanical failures. He raised his axe and kissed it. Then he partially pulled the charging handle to the back to make sure there was a round chambered. Then he slowly rode the handle forward and thumbed on the safety and laid it against the wall.
He backed away from the door and touched the handle testing it to see if it was unlocked. The handle had free play indicating the door was not locked. He was in luck. He pressed down on the handle and pulled the door open with speed. He braced himself against the side wall in case one of those fuckers was waiting. There was nothing. He figured there was no one but he did not want to get complacent. Complacency gets you killed.
He rounded the door and peered into the laundry room, the dining room and a portion of the living room. There was nothing. He proceeded through the laundry room and stopped right before it opened into the dining room. He tapped lightly on the wall hoping to attract anything or anyone that might still be in the house. He waited straining his ears. There was no noise. He tapped again. When he was satisfied there was nothing that could jump out at him he pressed on. The table had cherry red legs. The chairs were of the same color with dark green fabric. The top was made out of a speckled grey, white, and black granite. He turned his head to the left and saw the kitchen. On top of the counter were bags full of groceries. He deemed it odd because where were the owners or renters of this establishment. There was no foul smell of zombies or anyone dead. There were no sign of struggle. Whatever happened to them they were not here.
He went to the block and grabbed out the chef’s knife. He held the knife pointed downward and against his forearm as he wielded two weapons now the axe and the knife. He went room by room searching for any sign of anyone or anything thing. The master bedroom and one of the smaller rooms were in rubble that piled as high as five feet he guessed. There was no roof in parts of the house but all in all the house was in decent shape.
The house was completely abandoned. He checked the doors they were locked except the French doors that led to the backyard. He reached towards the top and pulled the white knob to the left stopping in the middle. This opened the blinds that were installed inside the door. There was nothing just grass that had maybe two weeks’ worth of growth. He closed the blinds. He went back into the garage and brought his stuff in. He dropped his gear on the white leather couch. He barricaded the doors with small light furniture this was twofold. It barricaded the door but allowed him to move it with ease in case he needed to make a fast get away. The only door he didn’t barricade was the door leading to the garage. He searched the cabinets and pulled out a can of soup. He opened the can with his P38 and poured the contents into a pot. He pressed in the white knob and turned it up to high. When the soup was done he pulled out a bowl and spoon and laid them on the counter. He turned off the stove and went to the fridge to pull out a few ice cubes to cool it a little bit.
He sat down on the couch and turned on the television. The TV was showing the mass destruction of the city. Some areas fared better than others. The cars on the highways were on fire and some were decimated. He learned the pathogen had spread despite the measures that were taken to contain it. They finally came out and said it was a virus that mutated in the Discovery. The crew set an explosion in hopes the lab would burn up in the re-entry to earth.
Flashed on the screen were cities that had been infected and instructions telling people to stay indoors. Then the show flashed back over to the news anchors. “There have been confirmed cases all across the United States. The airlines have been shut down to help prevent the virus from spreading to other cities. The only ones that are coming back alive are those that have been infected. Despite rumors the people that died before the infection have not reanimated,” said the older greyed hair man in a pin stripe suite. “Thanks Albert. The virus spreads through bodily fluids. This means if you are bit, scratched, or come in contact with the virus and have any open skin you will be infected. It is also spread through sexual activity. Once you are infected you will have around ten minutes to twenty four hours before you will succumb to the virus. However, these are just estimates. There is no known cure or vaccine but the CDC is working around the clock to create one.” “Yes Harold that is right.” The anchors words were drowned out as Travis focused on the bottom banner labelling what cities were bombed. Then he looked at the date to the far right. He was a sleep for more than three days.
He looked down at this wound. Somehow he survived where others didn’t. Maybe it was the antibiotics but that didn’t make sense. Antibiotics are for bacterial infections not viral. Either he was alive. He could not be the only one that was immune or found a way to stop the infection. Sure the possibilities were slim but there had to be more immune out there. There just had to be. The law of averages dictated so. He looked back down at his bandaged wound and rubbed it to subside th
e itching. Itching was a good sign as it was a sign the wound was healing.
His city was devastated he knew his granddaughter and wife were gone. He had no idea of where Ken and Jennifer were. Did they survive? Were they able to make it out in time? If they were able to where would they go. The only logical choice was his house. They would know to go there first in case something happened. Except his house was no longer there it was just a pile of rubble. Then he pondered what would be the next logical step? If their house was not destroyed he was for certain they would head back to their own house and try to wait it out. However, in case their house was destroyed, he was for certain they would try to flee. First stop was to go to their house. If they were not there he wasn’t sure where to look.
He took some cans out of the cabinets and placed them inside the side bags of the bike. He refilled his water and the sports cups he found. One was a hello kitty and the other a frozen cup and placed them in the bags. He returned to the front door and peeped through the hole and estimated there were about twenty dead fucks walking around. Then he went to the windows around the house to getter a better picture of the activity outside. The twenty or so had grown to thirty. The advantage was they were spread out enough that he could dodge them. Then he remembered the face he had taken from one of the dead and went to grab it from the garage. He took the salt and salted down the back side to prevent it from decaying and put it in his ruck sack.
He turned on the bike and let it idle for a few moments before he pressed the garage door opener on the wall and jumped back on the bike. He revved it up waiting for the door to open. He saw two different sets of hands reaching underneath and when the door was high enough he switched gears and sped down the driveway. He dodged the zombies as they were starting to congregate like a pack with one goal in mind to feed. When he got down the road he looked at the on ramp and saw the devastation. The overpass was demolished blocking his path. He had to take a different route. He turned the bike around and sped back the way he came.
Twenty miles after several turn arounds and different roads he managed to reach Ken and Jennifer’s house. It was completely intact their road did not meet the same fate as his. He parked the bike outside the garage door and left it running. He flipped up the cover to the key code to the garage door opener. He pressed the keys one two one two and pound the garage door started opening. He pulled out his axe ready for anything. Both cars were missing. “Shit this is not good.” Against all hope they would still be alive inside. He parked the bike inside closing the garage behind him.
The house was completely empty. The dry and canned foods were gone. There was no sign of struggle which gave him some hope they made it out alive. Surely his son came to the conclusion not to use the evacuation routes but the back roads. Only time would tell. Then it came to him. Why didn’t he try to call them on their cell phone before he left the previous house? That would have been the logical thing to do. He cursed to himself under his breath. He immediately went to the phone that was on the side table next to the sofa. He dialed Ken first. It immediately went to voice mail. “Fucking damn it!” He threw the phone back down on the receiver and picked it up again to try Jennifer. This is Jennifer you know what to do leave a message at the beep.” “Fucking horseshit!” The apocalypse was happening and he couldn’t get a hold of either of them. Either the towers were out or their batteries were dead.
Travis went outside into the back yard and headed to the shed. He wanted to fill up on gas while he could. He knew his son always had a can of gasoline for the push mower. He pried open the rusted door. A zombie lunged at him. He fell backwards landing on his ass and scooted away on all fours. Then he looked again he did not notice at first glance but the zombie was tied up to the one of the side metal supports. It had its mouth gagged by what appeared to be a wash cloth.
The zombie looked pitiful and young. Its wrists had cut marks from the rope. It was in an advance state of decomposition. Maybe a few days left in the shed and the hands could have broken off from the accelerated decay in the shed and killed any poor unsuspecting bastard. The smell was the second thing he noticed. There was shit and piss all over the place covering the zombie’s legs and feet. Whoever tied this poor child up must have done it when she was still alive. They didn’t even have the decency to give her a proper death. He pulled out his axe and ended its life. He just looked at the hanging monstrosity. Then he grabbed the arms and yanked down freeing it from its bondage. He gagged a few times before he was able to drag it out of the shed.
“Please be there, please be there.” The shed was an absolute disaster and his fears were realized. There was no gas can. “Fuck! Well I guess it means I will just have to find some gas somewhere else.” He still had three fourths of a tank left and despite the size of the bike he estimated he got around forty to forty five miles to the gallon. This would leave him with roughly two hundred miles before it was bone dry. He went back into the house and tried calling the two again. Immediately it went to voice mail. He then tried calling his two other sons. It was the same they went straight to voice mail. He knew the land lines were working but he was not sure about the cell phones. The only way to test if it were the towers was to use one. Unfortunately his was damaged in the wreck.
He went straight to the computer and turned it on. He thumped on the desk waiting for it to load. “Damn piece of shit!” The computer was performing updates. He resisted the urge to pick it up and throw it against the wall. Then the computer was restarting. “Fucking hell you mother fucking piece of whale shit!”
Finally the splash screen appeared indicating it was ready for use. He wasted no time and opened the internet browser. He immediately went to the first social media site he could think of. He cycled through the social media and found a page that had all those killed because of the virus. It was separated by counties. He searched up Ken and Jennifer first. As he scrolled down his heart plummeted to the floor. A photo of them popped up they were zombies that were dispatched. They must have been killed shortly after they turned. Their facial features were so clear. He was thankful he got his closure but the loss of his two children was devastating. He took a deep breath. He searched through the computer looking for pictures of his wife. He found one that had Lori holding Luna at the beach. He remembered that day. It was the first time Jennifer had allowed Luna to travel outside the city. Lori bobbed in the water with Luna and jumped each time a wave came. He uploaded the picture and their name just in case someone was looking for them. He searched up Nick Hulty. It seemed like he went through thousands of similar names to Nick’s and scrolled past all the pictures until he reached the end. The very last one read Nick William Hulty deceased Richfield. There was a picture and he knew it was him. He was not sure if he could bear anymore but he had to know if his oldest son Richard had survived.
Not only did Richard live in another state he lived at the very end of the state. It would be a long trip but he was determined to make it there. That was his only hope he had left was to be reunited with his son. A boy of forty years, well a man, he corrected himself in his head. There was a big gap between Richard and his two other brothers. Then he decided he would look up Richard. He scrolled through the massive site and did not find him. If he was in luck he would still be alive by the time he could get there or has no one been able to identify him to upload his name and picture. He decided it was best to let anyone who was looking for him to know he was still alive. He uploaded a picture of himself and simply typed Still Alive Heading to Wiltshire and dated it four August. He then pulled up a driving direction site and entered in his address and his son’s. He printed out the directions and stuffed it into his front pocket.
He picked up the phone and called Richard again. It went straight to voicemail. “Son it’s dad. I am coming for you.” A lump formed in his throat and his eyes began to water. “Your brothers and sister in law are dead. Luna is dead.” Travis’ voice quivered and he swallowed hard. “Your mother is dead too.” If you are sati
sfied with your message press 1. If you would like to change your message press 2. To hear these options again press 3. He pressed the button that read one. You have selected to keep your original message good bye. It was too late to head out. So he decided to spend the night and head out at dawn.
Raged filled him. His veins popped out on his forearm. He was in a trance he thirst for blood. It was time for him to go on the offense. He grabbed a knife and pulled out his axe and went out the front door. There was the mail man with his side satchel dropping letters as it moved. Travis ran up swung his axe sideways swiping from left to right. The blade penetrated the muscle and stopped when it hit bone. “You fucking piece of shit.” He turned the zombie around with his left hand and he pulled gripping the hair hacking away until the head came loose. Then he threw it behind him towards the front door.
The next one he plunged the knife straight up through the soft palate and spun around bringing down the axe on another zombie. He pulled out the knife and let the corpse fall to the ground and pulled up the axe to free it. He moved forward with speed to his next victim. The next zombie stretched out its arms towards him moaning and it seemed like the others were responding with their own moans. He kicked it in its chest and he could feel the breastbone cave in. He dispatched it with a knife to the temple. The next was a female that was missing half of her face where bone, muscle and arteries could be seen. It opened its mouth and was rewarded with the blade of the axe.
Alpha of the Omega Page 13