Broken Roads: A Tale of Survival in a Powerless World (Broken Lines Book 2)

by James Hunt

“Mike,” he said.

  “I’m busy,” Mike said, grabbing one of the lanterns from the Burger King counter.

  “Please, wait.”

  Jung put his hand on Mike’s chest stopping him and blocking his path.

  “Let my family come with you,” Jung said.

  “Jung, I don’t have anywhere for your family to go.”

  “The cabin, right? You’re going to the cabin?”

  Nelson.

  “Look, Jung, whatever it is you think I can help you with I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Mike said and then moved to the side and ran past him.

  Jung caught up with him as Mike headed back to the weapons depot where Clarence had shown him the rifles.

  “We were heading back home to China when everything stopped working.”

  “Isn’t your wife American? Doesn’t she have family here?”

  “She does, but they’re in Florida. We were here on vacation.”

  “You wanted to go vacation in Pittsburgh?”

  “New York. We were here as part of a layover.”

  The deeper they went into the airport the darker it became. Mike flicked on the lantern. The flame ignited casting an orange glow around the two of them and lighting their path.

  Clarence and the rest of the group hadn’t ventured into the dark portions of the airport because of the bodies. When they came out of the TSA security room after the rioting started they searched for supplies, and the only thing they found deep within the terminals were corpses.

  You could barely see them in the darkness, but the smell was overpowering. The rotting flesh baking for the past week in the unventilated, un-air conditioned depths of the airport sent a fowl stench in the air. The sour, bitter musk hit you like a brick wall.

  By the time Mike and Jung reached the weapons holding both of them were gagging, covering their noes and mouth, with their shirts, but it did no good.

  The inside of the weapons holding was practically barren when they checked it earlier. Most of the weapons had been picked over, but a few rifles, a stack of boxes with ammunition, and a cleaning kit still remained.

  “Grab those rifles over there,” Mike said.

  “Mike, please. My family can’t stay here. If there were help coming it would have been here by now. If we can’t get somewhere safe we’ll end up like those people out there.”

  The lantern swung in Mike’s grip. The light danced across Jung’s face, which was filled with desperation, a look he’d seen too often over the past week.

  “You pull your weight, each of you. Everyone has a job. No one gets special treatment. Understand?”

  Jung nodded.

  “Good. Now, grab the rifles.”

  ***

  The To family, Nelson, Sean, Tom, Clarence, and Mike sat around one of the tables in the food court. The sun had gone down and they were swallowing down cans of ham and black beans. Fay was on watch.

  Mike chose to tell the rest of the group about the cabin. They all jumped at the chance. Mike instructed each of them to pack enough food and supplies for a two-day walk. Everyone dumped any luggage they had and immediately started packing.

  “After we leave in the morning it’ll be important for us not to stop. I want to make sure we get there as quickly and safely as possible,” Mike said.

  “Will it really take two days?” Tom asked.

  “Yes, and it could take more if anything slows us down,” Mike answered.

  “What’s it like out there now?” Jenna asked.

  “The road? Dangerous,” Mike answered.

  “Do you think we’ll get mugged like you and Nelson?” Clarence asked.

  “Not if we stay smart,” Mike answered.

  “Guys, we’ll be fine. Mike knows what he’s doing. Trust me,” Nelson said.

  Trust him. Mike looked at the faces staring at him and a pang of guilt shot through him. The last time he helped people they turned against him and separated him from his family. He wasn’t going to let a gang of bandits stand between him and his family ever again. If it came down to it he would sacrifice the lot of them to reach his family.

  After dinner, it was time for Mike to relieve Fay of her watch. She was posted in the corner where she was supposed to be, vigilantly staring into the night.

  “Grab some dinner,” Mike said.

  “Thanks.”

  Fay put her hand out and Mike helped her up. She handed him the rifle, but before she turned to go he stopped her.

  “You sure you never used a rifle before?” Mike asked.

  “No. That was my first time.”

  “Well, it was quite a shot.”

  “Thanks. And thanks for saving us.”

  “I haven’t saved anyone.”

  “Well, you’re doing more than most would… More than I would.”

  The last words were said to herself, and Mike could see from her reaction they weren’t meant to be said aloud.

  “Do you know why I took off today after I hit the can?” Fay asked.

  “No.”

  “It was because I saw the look on everyone’s faces. They saw that I could do something that they couldn’t. They saw that I could be someone to protect them. They thought I was someone who could keep them safe.”

  “Why did that make you run?”

  “Because if I didn’t keep them safe, and I knew how to do it, then I failed. So, that’s why you’ve already saved us. You’re not afraid.”

  Mike sat down as Fay turned to leave. He stared out into the night. The moon was full, so he could see clearly. He thought about what Fay had said. She was wrong. He was afraid, but it wasn’t the type of fear that comes with indifference, it was the fear that comes with action. He knew what he was capable of. He remembered how easily he had pulled the trigger on the neighbors attacking his house. He could see the blood spilling onto the grass of his lawn, turning everything crimson.

  He cradled the rifle in his lap and rested his head back against the wall. He pushed the rest out of his mind with one single thought: get to my family.

  Day 9 (The Cabin)

  “Damnit, Ulysses, will you let me finish what I’m saying!” Ray screamed.

  Ray propped himself up on his elbows from the couch. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Anne tried to ease him back down onto the couch, but he pushed her away.

  “You have no idea what’s in that town. It could be overrun,” Ray said.

  Ulysses put in a few bottles of water and a days ration worth of food into the satchel. He pulled the strap of the bag over his head and let if fall across his chest. A holster rested on the counter, the pistol’s grip sticking out. He slung it around his waist and clipped the belt together.

  “Maybe I don’t know what’s in town, but I do know what’ll happen if your fever keeps going the way it has,” Ulysses said.

  Ray’s arms were shaking from the exertion of keeping himself upright. His elbow gave way and he collapsed back on the couch. The room felt like it was spinning. His head swayed back and forth. He tried to collect his thoughts. Before he could come up with a rebuttal he felt a hand on his chest and Ulysses’ face came in and out of focus.

  “I’m going, Raymond,” Ulysses said.

  “Remember what I told you,” Anne said.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Ulysses walked out of the door and down the dirt path that winded up to the cabin. The town was only a mile and a half away.

  The morning sun wasn’t yet hot and the trees around him provided nice shade. His boots crunched the twigs and leaves on the ground. Along the way he saw a deer and a few turkeys. Good hunting.

  Once Ulysses made it out of the tree line and back onto the highway, he headed west to the town of Carrollton. He could see the small outline of the buildings on Main Street in the distance. The tall fields of grass surrounding the town stretched out to the forest tree lines surrounding it.

  The road was completely clear with the exception of a tractor that had shut down in the middle of the road, blocking b
oth lanes. Ulysses glanced up into the cab window. He climbed up and opened the door taking a look inside. Except for a pair of gloves on the seat, it was empty.

  From his elevated position, he was able to see into the distance. He looked for signs of any farms in the distance, but was disappointed when he could find nothing. He jumped back down from the tractor and continued his journey into town.

  The buildings grew larger the closer he came. The sun had crept higher into the sky, and the heat was bearing down on him now. The cool of the morning was disappearing. He reached into his pack and pulled out one of the bottles of water he packed. He took a sip. The town was only another one hundred yards away.

  Ulysses squinted his eyes at lumps scattered on Main Street. At first he couldn’t tell what they were, then he glanced up into the sky and saw the buzzards circling. His pace slowed. He glanced around the buildings looking for signs of any people. He edged along the side of the road, moving along in the tall grass for cover.

  The only part of him exposed was the top of his head. His eyes scanned above the grass looking for anyone that might have seen him coming. He approached the stores on the right side of Main Street and waited on the edge where the tall grass ended and the clearing began.

  There was no movement in the town, so Ulysses kept low and ran up to the side of the first store. He followed the edge of the building’s wall to the main road.

  The buzzards overhead squawked, still circling the rotting flesh down below. Ulysses turned his focus to the storefronts. Most of their windows had been smashed in. None of those close by was a pharmacy.

  Ulysses adjusted the strap along his chest and mapped out a route in his mind. There were enough cars for him to hide behind, so he’d have to pass each store carefully, checking to see if there was anyone inside.

  He sprinted to the other side of the street and knelt down by a car. He put his hands on the hood, but the removed them quickly. The metal on the car was scorching.

  Ulysses crept along the storefronts, checking inside each window before he passed. Each one he looked into was ransacked. He kept his eyes peeled for a pharmacy and then, halfway down Main Street he finally saw it.

  The pharmacy windows were smashed, but its green painted letters glistened in the sun. Ulysses kept his hand close to the holster on his hip as he moved toward the pharmacy.

  As he approached the motel he could hear voices in the distance. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the murmuring grew louder. Ulysses stopped at the corner of the building right before the motel. Two bikers came into the parking lot.

  “The dumb bitch is still here. I’m surprised she hasn’t taken off yet.”

  “How the hell is she supposed to escape when she’s got another guy on her every twenty minutes?”

  “You try her out?”

  “Yeah, I’ve had better, but it wasn’t bad.”

  The sound of their boots and voices started to fade. Ulysses grabbed the pistol from his holster. He clicked the safety off and glanced around the corner. He saw the backside of the two men he had overheard heading to the far end of the motel and then they disappeared through one of the doors.

  Ulysses waited to see if someone else would come outside, but no one did. A car sat out front of the motel in the street, riddled with bullets. He made a dash for it, crouching behind the engine. His fingers gripped the gunshot holes in the passenger door.

  Another car sat parked in front of the pharmacy. He glanced back through the window of the car, checking to see if anyone was watching. When he took off running his knees popped and when he reached the curb of the sidewalk he tripped. The pistol flew from his hand and skidded across the sidewalk.

  He pushed himself off the pavement, wincing. He grabbed the pistol and leaned back against a building wall. He looked to see if anyone saw him. Nothing. He panted heavily trying to catch his breath. He looked down at his knee and his torn jeans. The skin peeled off revealing a bloody spot. He reached out to touch it, then recoiled.

  “Damnit.”

  He grabbed the side of the car for support and pushed himself up on his good leg. He limped over to the pharmacy door. The frame was busted and it swung open crooked when he pushed it. Glass crunched under his boots. He kept the pistol up, scanning the abandoned store.

  Most of the shelves were smashed. The tip of his boot kicked an empty prescription bottle and it rolled across the floor. He grabbed the bag and pulled out the piece of paper with the name of the antibiotics that Anne told him to find.

  His fingers fumbled through the bottles of pills. They rattled as he spun them around, holding each of them to the light from the window checking the labels. He scanned the first wall, found nothing, then moved on to the next.

  He went through all of the shelves, scraping his hands reaching through the broken glass cabinets that had been locked. Finally, Ulysses brought one of the bottles to the window, checked the label, and gave a sigh.

  Ulysses tossed the bottle into his bag and made a step toward the exit when he saw three bikers head out of their room in the motel and walk across the parking lot. Ulysses slid behind the wall next to the door. He inched to the edge of the broken window and peered out through the jagged edges of glass.

  “Hold on, Frankie, I’m gonna go grab some more of that shit out of the pharmacy. I’ll meet you guys over there.”

  “All right, Garrett.”

  Two of them drifted off further down the road and Garret made a beeline for the pharmacy. Ulysses tried to move, but he his leg didn’t respond fast enough to hide. When Garrett walked through the door Ulysses hit him in the back of the head with his pistol.

  Garret stumbled into the counter and pulled out his piece. Ulysses squeezed his trigger and shot Garrett in the leg and stomach. He squeezed the trigger again sending a bullet through Garret’s chest, dropping him to the floor.

  Ulysses could hear the shouts and the sound of boots coming in his direction. He hobbled around Garrett’s body and made his way to the back of the store. Each step sent a knife digging into his knee and then ran all the way up to his hip. He pushed himself as fast as he could go. He swung the back door open and stepped outside, the sun shining bright in the blue sky. He glanced around for any place he could hide. He looked to his left. Nothing. He looked right. Nothing. The tall grass in front of him was the only place that offered any cover.

  Ulysses limped through the grass for twenty feet, then dropped to the ground. He crawled, spreading the grass apart, trying to see in front of him when he found himself looking into the eyes of a young girl, frozen in shock, lying hidden in the grass.

  “Spread out! I want the head of whatever prick did this on a steak before lunch!” Frankie said.

  “Alright, Frankie.”

  Ulysses brought his finger to his lips. The girl nodded. Ulysses saw some other movement behind her and then Nancy’s and Erin’s eyes stared back at him, through the grass.

  The bikers swept through the tall grass, searching for them.

  “Frankie, this shit is thick. It could take a while before we find them.”

  “Then you can be the one to tell Jake why you let someone get away with killing one of our brothers.”

  ***

  It was an hour before the bikers gave up their search. The bikers disappeared and Ulysses finally let his body relax. He let his head rest on the ground for a moment. He felt the cool Earth, with its rocks and pebbles under his belly. He rolled onto his back, wincing from the pain in his knee.

  “Are you girls okay?” Ulysses asked.

  “We’re not hurt,” Mary said.

  “If we can get to the edge of town we can follow the highway to my cabin. You three can come with me,” Ulysses said.

  He saw her hesitation as she stared at the pistol in his hand. He holstered it.

  “My family is there. It’s safe. I promise.”

  “Mary, I don’t know if we should go. What about mom?” Nancy asked.

  “We can come back for your mom, b
ut we’ll need help,” Ulysses said.

  “You promise we can come back for her?” Mary asked.

  “Promise.”

  Ulysses noticed the dirt smeared on their faces, the scratches and cuts from the rocks and grass around them, the dark circles under their eyes, their sunburnt faces. These girls had been here for a while.

  “Okay,” Mary said.

  “Stay low and follow me,” Ulysses said.

  Each time Ulysses’ knee hit the ground while he crawled, a shot of pain shot through his entire leg. After thirty yards he collapsed on his side. It felt like a pad of spikes was sticking into knee.