Band of Preppers: A Prepper Fiction Novel (Book 1)

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Band of Preppers: A Prepper Fiction Novel (Book 1) Page 7

by Chad Evercroft


  Derek pulled into the driveway and leapt out. Sprinting, he got to the neighbor’s a few houses down and banged on the door. Sammy, Adam’s friend, answered the door. He looked confused.

  “Are you ok, Mr. Evers?”

  “I need to pick up Adam early. Sorry.”

  Sammy called back into the house, summoning Adam. Adam looked worried when he saw his father.

  “Dad?”

  “Hey. Come on, we gotta go home.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ll explain. Let’s go.”

  Derek took Adam’s hand and pulled him back to the house. Once inside, Derek locked all the doors and drew the curtains. He ran to the bathroom. Adam stood in the doorway and stared.

  “What’s going on?”

  “A guy at the store. Got real sick. We gotta go to Buckle’s.”

  Derek stripped off his clothes and got into the shower. He set the water as hot as he could bear it and scrubbed himself all over.

  “Don’t touch those,” Derek said, indicating the clothes.

  “Are you ok?” Adam asked unsure if he wanted to stand so close to his father.

  “I didn’t touch him,” Derek said. “And I tried not to breathe near him.”

  Derek squirted a huge dollop of soap into his hands and rubbed it into his eyes, ears, and nose. Everything burned, but Derek didn’t care. He rinsed his face thoroughly and, eyes closed, reached for a dry towel. He felt one appear in his hand and looked to see Adam holding it out for him. The boy’s eyes were watery, but his jaw was set.

  “Thanks,” Derek said.

  After drying himself, Derek went to the bedroom and put on clean clothes. He tried to call Buckle, but it just kept ringing and ringing.

  Damn it.

  Trying to suppress his panic, Derek got three backpacks from the garage.

  “Adam, I need your help. Strap three sleeping bags to these, and the big tent on mine. We gotta get ready to go as soon as possible.”

  “What about Mom?”

  “I called her. She should be home soon.”

  Adam obeyed. Derek went to the garage and looked over his supplies.

  Ok, three days worth.

  Water first. Derek grabbed as many water bottles as he could carry and a package of LifeStraws. He dumped these on the floor by Adam and returned to the garage. Food. Backpack meals. Trail mix. A pot. Some silverware. Going back and forth, Derek built a pile in the living room. Roadie, who had been sleeping in his kennel this whole time, awoke and scratched at the bars. Derek went to the bathroom for a first aid kit.

  What else? What else?

  Derek’s mind was reeling. He cursed himself for not making a list of this stuff before, like Buckle had always insisted. No point moping about it now. Derek tried to remember what else they had brought on the camping trip. Weapons. Derek hurried to his bedroom. He kept his gun in the bottom of his drawer in a case. He unlatched it and checked it over quickly. Needed to be loaded. Bullets were in the garage. While he was loading up and stuffing a smaller bag with extras, Derek heard the doorbell ring. He froze for a moment, then remembered Adam.

  “Adam! Don’t..!” he began.

  Too late. Derek heard voices. He rushed inside the house, dropping the bag of bullets and stuffing his gun in the back of his pants. He found Adam talking to Matt, the stockroom guy, who was standing in the living room.

  “Matt, what are you doing here?”

  “Hey, boss,” Matt said, chewing a piece of gum. “Just wanted to check in on you. Make sure everything was A-ok.”

  Matt had his hands in his pockets. He smiled at Adam, who glanced over at Derek.

  “Everything’s fine,” Derek said curtly.

  “Going on a trip?” Matt asked, gesturing to the pile of supplies with his foot.

  “Just...organizing.”

  Matt bent down and picked up the package of LifeStraws.

  “These are nifty,” he remarked. “Planning on using all of these?”

  Derek tightened his hand into a fist. Adam, sensing the tension, began to slowly move toward Roadie’s kennel. The dog perked up and began to scratch again, whining. In a flash, Matt had pulled Adam back towards him by the collar and flipped out a pocket knife. He pointed it at Adam’s neck. Adam gasped, freezing. He stared at Derek with terrified eyes.

  “Hey!” Derek shouted.

  “Don’t move,” Matt said, his voice like ice. “I don’t want to hurt anybody, man. I really don’t. I like you. You’re a good boss. But things are going to be different. Crazy. I’ve been following the news, reading about this pox thing. The stores are gonna get stripped. Every man for himself.”

  “What do you want?” Derek asked.

  The gun felt cold against the skin of his back. He thought if he moved fast enough, he might be able to get off a shot, but that would alert the neighborhood and if he was even a few inches off…

  “Just fill up a backpack there,” Matt said. “I don’t need much. I’m just one guy.”

  Slowly, Derek got on his knees and began packing. Matt nodded and made suggestions as Derek worked.

  “Yep. Lots of water. And first aid. I’m guessing that’ll be important.”

  Matt smiled and patted Adam’s shoulder.

  “Damn you, Matt,” Derek muttered, angrily shoving a kit into the bag.

  “I get why you’re mad,” Matt said. “No hard feelings.”

  Matt lowered the knife just a little, but not enough for Derek to feel comfortable to take action. Matt knelt down, pushing Adam down with him, to pick up the bag.

  “Much obliged,” Matt said. “You won’t have to worry about me again.”

  Just then, they all heard the jingle of keys at the front door and looked. Matt was distracted and Derek took the opportunity to lunge. Roadie began barking furiously as all three tumbled to the ground and Amy entered the house. She shouted, unsure of what she was seeing. Derek wrenched Matt’s arm and with his other hand, pulled his gun out. He struck Matt on the side of his head with it, knocking him out cold. Amy stood there in shock, staring down at the pile of scattered supplies, the two men, and her son on the ground.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  Chapter 7

  “Well?” Amy said, raising her voice.

  Derek turned to Adam, grabbing his shoulders and checking him all over.

  “I’m ok, Dad,” Adam assured him, getting up.

  He let Roadie out of the kennel. The dog shot out like a firework and went right to Matt. He growled and sniffed until he was satisfied Matt no longer posed a threat.

  “He threatened Adam,” Derek said, pointing to Matt. “Held a knife to him.”

  “Oh my god! Why would he do that?”

  “He wanted our supplies.”

  Amy couldn’t believe it. She stared at Matt, who lay unmoving on the carpet. She let her purse slide off her shoulder.

  “Did you get my message?” Derek asked.

  “Yeah...I left as soon as I heard. Um, is he dead, Derek?”

  Derek looked. A huge, bloody bump ringed by a purple bruise had popped out of Matt’s head.

  “Um.”

  Amy broke from her trance. She practically flung herself down on the ground and began checking Matt’s vitals. She leaned back on her heels, clearly relieved.

  “He’s alive. I still don’t understand what happened here!”

  “A guy at the store had blood pox,” Adam broke in. “We’re going to Uncle Buckle’s.”

  “Oh my god,” Amy said, her mouth falling open. “Are you sure? Blood pox?”

  “He had something,” Derek said, still looking at Matt. “Said we needed to get out of town.”

  “You should go to a hospital,” Amy began, “You…”

  “He said they wouldn’t help me. Even if I did have it. I didn’t get near him, Amy. Or really breathe.”

  “There’s no guarantee…”

  “I think the government’s behind it,” Derek blurted, interrupting his wife again.


  Amy stared at him, struck dumb. Derek decided to tend to Matt. Realizing he was still holding the gun, he stuffed it in his bag and went to the kitchen. He pulled some paracord out from a drawer.

  “What are you doing?” Amy asked.

  “Tying him up.”

  “What?”

  “It’s the nicest thing I could think of after what he did.”

  Derek dragged Matt up on the couch and tied his hands together behind his back, and then his feet.

  “Derek, what if he has a concussion?”

  “Don’t care.”

  “He could die!”

  “He threatened to kill our son!” Derek shouted at her. “Doesn’t that matter to you?”

  Amy’s eyes flashed with anger. She looked over at Adam, who had been standing with Roadie this whole time, fighting tears.

  “Adam, go to your room,” she said.

  Adam went, no questions asked. Roadie followed him. Amy got up in Derek’s face, her tiny frame suddenly appearing commanding.

  “You know damn well it matters. That’s irrelevant. I’m not going to leave a man to die because of it and ruin all our lives. Don’t you ever think things through?”

  The sharpness of her words brought Derek’s adrenaline down. He looked at Matt slumped on the couch, tied up, and then at Amy, who was shaking. Derek pulled Amy into his chest and kissed the top of her head.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Ok. Here’s what we’re going to do. We can’t take him to the hospital. There isn’t time. They might be looking for me, I don’t know. You patch him up here and then we’ll go.”

  “What happens when he wakes up?”

  “He can yell for help.”

  “What if no one hears?”

  Derek looked around the room, an idea forming. He released Amy and went back to the kitchen. He came back with an old cell phone.

  “I’ll put this across the room. He can drag himself over there and call 911. That gives us some time to get away.”

  Amy looked thoughtful. Derek could tell she was on board, but still wasn’t sure about the whole thing. She picked up the remote and turned on the news. It had already gone national.

  “Another case of blood pox confirmed in the United States,” the anchor droned. “In Maplewood, Missouri, just outside St. Louis, a man went into a grocery store and collapsed after showing multiple symptoms of the disease. The CDC has issued a quarantine for everyone present at the store today, but are still trying to locate everyone.”

  Derek’s phone rang. He answered it, afraid of who might be on the other line.

  “Hello?”

  “Derek!” Buckle shouted. “Oh, thank god.”

  “Buckle! I tried to call you before.”

  “Yeah, sorry. I’ve been following the news. You gotta get out of there, man. Shit’s about to go crazy.”

  For some reason, Buckle’s extreme advice swayed Derek’s resolve instead of affirming it.

  “I don’t know...shouldn’t I go into quarantine? What if I’m sick?”

  “Did you touch the guy at all?”

  “No.”

  “Cover your mouth and nose?”

  “Yeah, but..”

  “You’re fine. Besides, they’re not going to be able to do anything. You’ll sit in a room by yourself for a week or two, and if you do have it, they’ll just let you die. That’s how they’re handling this thing. They don’t even know how long the incubation is, they let those guards go, how do you think the disease is still spreading? They don’t know shit.”

  Derek was convinced. He knelt down, phone still in hand, and began to pack again. He gestured violently for Amy to start fixing up Matt.

  “Ok, Buckle. We’re coming to your place.”

  “You gotta hurry, man. It’s not going to take them long to find you.”

  “Who is them, Buckle? Who are these people?”

  “Who knows? CDC, SWAT, the military? A combination, probably.”

  Amy emerged from the bathroom and began dabbing Matt’s head with alcohol. He winced, as if awake, but didn’t open his eyes.

  “Are you leaving now? Are you in the car?” Buckle asked.

  “No, I’m still packing.”

  “What! Aw, hell, man, I told you…”

  “I know, I know.”

  “Just take what you got. If you drive, you should be fine, it won’t take three days.”

  “Dad?”

  Derek looked up. Adam was in the kitchen doorway, holding the bag of bullets in one hand and another medium-sized bag in the other. Derek hadn’t even noticed him leaving his room.

  “I got Roadie’s stuff.”

  “Great job, son,” Derek said, kicking himself that he hadn’t remembered the dog. “Amy, we gotta go. Get the bag.”

  She was watching the TV, mesmerized. Derek looked over. The news was showing scenes from St. Louis, but he hardly recognized it. People were already going crazy. Images of people in stores shoving each other, fighting over rolls of toilet paper, and just running around flashed by. Derek went to the window and peered through the curtain. A steady line of cars raced by, people honking and shouting.

  “Ok, we gotta go, Buckle.”

  “No duh, man. Keep in touch.”

  Derek turned to his family. They had their packs on and were ready. They looked to him for the final word. Derek swallowed down his fear.

  “Let’s go.”

  The Evers family piled into the car. Roadie sat completely straight in the seat next to Adam and panted happily, blissfully unaware of the situation his family was in. As they pulled out, Derek looked at the house. He hadn’t thought about it till now, but it might be a long time before they came back here. He remembered when they had bought it when Amy got the job at the hospital and Adam was just three years old. Derek also thought about all the supplies he was leaving behind, and if the house would still be standing when they came back. Amy must have been thinking the same thing, because she took Derek’s hand and squeezed it. She had tears in her eyes, but tried to smile. Derek smiled back.

  “Things will be better when we get to Buckle’s,” Derek assured everyone. “He’ll know what to do.”

  When they got out of the neighborhood and out on I-44, the traffic got worse. Derek had hoped that by taking the longer route, there would be less cars, but it looked like it would be bad wherever they went. Cars were packed in like boxes, bumper to bumper, and tempers were high. People honked and ranted at each other. Derek squeezed the steering wheel. He could feel Roadie’s hot breath on his neck.

  “Can I turn the radio on?” Amy asked.

  “Hmm? Yeah. Go ahead.”

  She turned to a news station.

  “10 more cases of blood pox confirmed in Missouri and Texas,” the radio drawled. “The CDC has issued an official statement.”

  The voice on the radio changed to a recording of a CDC official. He sounded like he had swallowed a large cotton ball.

  “We urge everyone to remain calm. Those diagnosed are in isolation and are being treated by the best doctors in the country. For those who were potentially exposed, we are doing our best to locate them and put them under careful watch. There are a lot of reports out there that are not based on fact, so we ask that everyone get their information from accredited, expert sources. This disease is not smallpox. We do not yet know if it shares any characteristic with smallpox beyond the physical symptoms. The best scientists are hard at work trying to better understand this virus so we can develop an immediate treatment plan. Again, remain calm, and keep those affected by diseases in your thoughts and prayers. Thank you.”

  The radio switched back over to the regular news. Amy threw her hands up, as if questioning the radio itself.

  “That’s it? That’s all he’s going to say?”

  She cranked the volume down and crossed her arms, scoffing. Roadie poked his head over to her side and tried to lick her face. Amy brushed him off.

  “Y’know, I’m starting to think what you said about the governme
nt is right,” Amy said. “I know it sounds crazy, but ten cases don’t just pop out of nowhere in two states. And I don’t believe the government is just obvlious to all of this.”

  “I did some research this morning,” Derek began, and glanced back at Adam.

  Adam was listening intently, one hand resting on Roadie’s back.

  “Let him hear it,” Amy said, surprising Derek. “It’s better he know now.”

  “I did some research,” Derek continued. “Did you know about all the biological tests the government has done on people? American citizens, too? Like releasing crap right into the air!”

  “I know,” Amy said, shaking her head in disapproval. “I hear bits and pieces of stuff like that, and as a nurse, it is absolutely appalling. I don’t think I really wanted to ever believe it. If you can’t trust the government, who can you trust?”

  “Just the people close to you, I guess,” Derek replied. “When it all comes down to it.”

  An hour went by, and still the traffic didn’t improve. The sun set and the road lit up with dozens and dozens of headlights, like tiny moons. Derek’s eyes watered from staring out the windshield for so long. His back ached. Amy, exhausted from the day, was leaning against the window. Her brow was furrowed. Roadie had curled up next to Adam, placing his head in the boy’s lap.

  “Where are we?” Adam asked, speaking in a low tone to not disturb his mother.

  “Fenton is over there,” Derek said.

  “So it’s taken us an hour to go like ten miles?” Adam guessed.

  “Yeah,” Derek said, looking back at his son. “You’re really good at directions and stuff.”

  “Thanks. I like looking up routes and stuff on Google maps,” Adam explained.

  “That’s good. That’s a really good skill.”

  Derek glanced at the gas gauge instinctively and saw to his horror that it was almost empty.

  “Shoot,” he whispered.

  Alerted by his tone, Amy suddenly shot awake. She inhaled deeply, looking around.

  “What? What is it?” she mumbled.

  “Almost out of gas,” Derek said.

  Amy peered over to check. She gave Derek a frightened look. The cars were packed around them like walls. Derek looked back at Adam, who was chewing his lip.

 

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