by David Spell
Officer Storey cautiously pulled the door of the store open and listened for movement. The flashlight mounted on his shotgun swept the interior. Satisfied, he turned and motioned for Margo to join him. The civilian police officer and the military police officer disappeared inside the truck stop.
Their standard operating procedure was to always try and make contact with whoever might be hiding inside. If the business owner was present, they would pay for their supplies. If no one was there, they would take as much as they could and inventory it when they got back to the campus. After things got back to normal, Mr. Nicholson would make sure that every business owner was repaid in full.
Elizabeth and Lamar stood on the sidewalk next to the rear of the Cherokee keeping watch, shivering as a cutting wind whipped across the large parking lot. Lamar held his rifle loosely while Elizabeth’s pistol was still tucked into her waistband. She turned the collar of her black leather jacket up as the large snowflakes and freezing rain continued to fall.
Without warning, gunfire erupted from multiple weapons inside the store, followed immediately by a woman screaming out in pain. Elizabeth and Lamar both jumped but the young criminal justice major recovered quickly, running and jerking the door open, and raising his rifle to point inside.
A man’s voice cried out, “Stop the bleeding! Help me, 5-0, you’ve got to stop the bleeding!”
The darkness inside the store combined with Lamar’s eyes not having adjusted to it blinded him and he couldn’t see anything. “Officer Storey? Margo?” he called, tentatively.
Suddenly, more gunshots came from inside the business and Lamar collapsed in the doorway, blocking it open. The young man groaned loudly, gasping for air, struggling to breathe. And then there was silence again.
Elizabeth’s feet were frozen in place. She reached for her pistol but it got tangled up in her shirt and jacket, clattering to the pavement. She knelt, grabbing for the gun.
“Don’t move,” a menacing voice said.
Benton looked up at a balding man who was pointing a black rifle at her. She froze, her eyes locked on his. The man’s gaze took all of her in as he nodded slightly, a wicked grin on his ruddy face. He turned his head slightly to speak to someone behind him.
“Look what we have here, Larry. Cover me while I go grab her and check their car.”
An older man with oily hair and a scraggly beard stepped over Lamar’s body as the bald man walked towards her. Everything inside of Elizabeth screamed at her to run away but she couldn’t get her feet to move. Larry was holding a pistol and kept it pointed at her. He reached down and picked up Lamar’s rifle.
“Did you see this, Bobby? This is a nice AR. I think I’m gonna keep this one for myself.”
Bobby lowered his gun and stopped in front of the terrified girl. Without hesitation, he slapped Elizabeth in the face, snapping her head back. He grabbed her and spun her around, shoving her against the side of the Jeep. He searched her for additional weapons, his hands lingering over her breasts. He pulled her leather jacket off and threw it to the pavement.
“You’re not gonna need that in a little while,” he whispered in her ear while pressing his body against hers. “I think you and me are gonna be real good friends.”
“Please don’t hurt me,” she whimpered. “Just let me go and you can have my car.”
She felt blood dripping down her chin from a busted lip. The man’s hands were still on her and she began to shake, causing him to laugh.
“I think we will. And I think you’re gonna come with us,” he laughed.
Bobby reached down and picked up Benton’s pistol, tucking it into his waistband. He did a cursory check of the Cherokee making sure that it was empty.
“Come on,” he said to the girl. “Let’s go back inside and see what 5-0 wants to do with you.”
“I know what I want to do with her,” Larry said, licking his lips.
The bald man grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly through the open door. Blood had pooled around Lamar and she stepped in it as Bobby forced her inside. Her friend’s lifeless eyes looked up at her, emphasizing her own weakness, as she stepped over him, a numbness settling over her.
Twenty feet inside the store, three additional bodies were sprawled on the floor, illuminated by flashlight beams. A skinny man with stringy hair and a pasty face was holding a pistol and kneeling beside a short, fat man lying in a puddle of blood that encircled him. A large, gaping wound on his right leg appeared to be where the blood had come from.
“He’s dead, 5-0. I think he bled out,” Stringy Hair said, his voice trembling as he looked up at the large man standing next to him.
5-0 was tall and muscular with a thick mustache. He looked down on their dead companion without emotion, but shook his head. “I never liked Jerry much anyway,” he said. “He was always complaining about something and was always hungry. It does piss me off that these guys shot him, though.”
As Elizabeth’s eyes adjusted, she realized that Officer Storey was lying on his back, just to her right, not moving. She had seen that he was a wearing a bullet proof vest but it clearly hadn’t worked. There were several bleeding wounds on his chest, arms, and one through his throat. Margo was on her side a few feet to Benton’s left, groaning softly, clutching her stomach.
The one they called 5-0 had a rifle on a sling but he drew his pistol, walking over to Storey and shooting him in the head, the loud shot causing Benton to scream. He repeated the process with Margo and Lamar and then walked over to Elizabeth, pointing his pistol at her forehead. She saw his finger on the trigger, starting to tighten.
“No, please,” she pleaded. “We were just looking for some food.”
Bobby cleared his throat. “5-0, she’s got a car outside. I was thinking maybe we could take her with us and have a little fun, if that was OK with you.”
Benton’s eyes were glued to 5-0’s trigger finger. He finally let the pressure off but kept staring at her. His eyes burned with hatred, but he nodded and lowered the gun, putting it back into his holster.
“Grab their guns and load up with some supplies and let’s get back to the house,” 5-0 ordered. The other three men jumped into action, leaving Elizabeth standing next to 5-0.
“You are a pretty little thing,” he grunted, as he ran his hands over Elizabeth’s body, causing her to cringe. “I bet a little slut like you really knows how to make a man happy.”
She knew that if she tried to run, this man would shoot her in the back. Maybe that would be better, she thought. She knew that what they had planned for her was going to be worse than death. And how bad could it hurt to get shot and die? She couldn’t bring herself to do it, though, hating how weak and helpless she felt.
The skinny guy drove and 5-0 sat in the front with him. Bobby and Larry sat in the back with Elizabeth between them, reaching under her shirt and groping her all the way back to the house. From their conversation, she gathered that they had been at this house for a few days and were using it as their base. She heard them say something about their truck having run out of gas and were thrilled to be able to ride instead of walking through the snowstorm.
The four men talked in graphic detail about what they were going to do to Elizabeth. She kept her eyes closed as they touched her and she began to pray for the first time in a long while. She hadn’t been to church in several years and, if she was honest, would say that she had walked away from her faith. However, during that miserable car ride back to the kidnappers’ house, Elizabeth Benton made peace with God because she knew that she was about to be raped and murdered.
“And then you showed up,” she finished, smiling at Chuck, tears glistening in her eyes. “God answered my prayer. I don’t know how to say ‘thank you.’ There’s no way I could ever repay you, but thank you. You didn’t have to get involved. You risked your life for me and…” She started crying.
McCain didn’t know what to say but got up from the chair and sat next to her on the bed, putting his hand on her shoulder. She
fell into his arms and buried her face in his chest, her loud sobs continuing for several minutes. Chuck let her cry herself out, just holding her. She had been through so much and he had no idea how to comfort her other than just giving her a shoulder to cry on.
When Elizabeth recovered her voice, she said, hanging her head, “I feel so guilty. Officer Storey, Margo, Lamar, they’re all dead but I’m still alive. It doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t seem fair.”
“I understand,” said Chuck, nodding. “They call it survivor’s guilt. I have my fair share, too.”
The girl looked up at him, surprise in her eyes, still wet with tears. “You do?”
“Oh yeah. Let’s take a break. I need to take a look outside and make sure everything is still quiet and then I’ll tell you a little of my background.”
Abandoned house, South of Carnesville, Northeast of Atlanta, Wednesday, 1000 hours
The neighborhood was quiet and Chuck didn’t see any signs of life as he peered outside. Looking down the street, he saw snow covered mounds indicating the final resting places of all the Zs he’d shot the night before, strewn around the yard and driveway of the kidnappers’ house. The low, gray clouds hinted at the possibility of more snow. There was no way he would take a chance driving on these icy streets. The thermometer in the kitchen window showed twenty-seven freezing degrees outside and it wasn’t much warmer inside.
With the government shut down, no one was clearing the roads and the thought of getting stranded somewhere, miles from any kind of safe shelter, was not an option. Plus, there were roving packs of zombies, not to mention gangs of robbers and murderers lying in wait for unsuspecting victims.
When McCain went back upstairs to check on Elizabeth, he found her lying on the bed with her back to him. Thinking that she was resting, he turned to leave. Her voice stopped him.
“You can come in. I’m not asleep,” she said, quietly.
He really wished Elizabeth had been sleeping. Chuck had already decided that there was no way he could tell her everything about his life. He would tell her about some of his battles and about some of the men that he had lost but he couldn’t talk about Rebecca. That was too deep, too painful, and too personal. He needed to keep that door shut and locked. That pain was for him and for him alone.
McCain laid his rifle on the foot of the bed and sat back down in the chair next to where Elizabeth was lying. She still had her back to him, curled up in a ball and it was evident that she was still crying.
“I didn’t tell you everything,” she confessed, sniffing.
Uh-oh, he thought. Where was this leading?
“We all have our secrets,” he said.
“You saved my life and I think I owe you the rest of the story. You might not want to help me anymore after you hear this but I need to talk about it before I lose my mind.”
“Okay,” he said, “but I’m not a priest or a counselor. I think we’re all just trying to do the best we can in this crazy new world.”
Benton sat up in the bed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She sat with her back against the wall, looking straight ahead, not making eye contact with McCain. She took a deep breath.
“The reason I’m living on campus at the college is, well, it’s my parents. I killed them.”
As a police officer, Chuck had mastered the art of concealing his emotions. In his mind though, his first thought was, she doesn’t look like a psycho-murderer but appearances can be deceiving.
“I was their only child and I still lived at home. They loved me and were fantastic parents. We had a great relationship. I was at work about six months ago when I got a call from my mom. I answered but there was nothing, just the sound of someone breathing and then a crash like she’d dropped the phone.
“She was having problems keeping her blood pressure down and I was taking her to the doctor the next day to get it checked, so my first thought was that she was having a medical emergency. I called 911 and asked for an ambulance. I left work and drove home as fast as I could. I beat the ambulance there and rushed inside. Daddy’s car was in the driveway so I figured she must’ve called him, too.
“When I opened the door, I heard this terrible growling noise. Then I saw Momma on top of Daddy in the living room, eating him. She’d ripped his throat out and there was blood everywhere. I started screaming for her to stop and ran over to pull her off of him, but then Momma came after me, growling and trying to bite me. She got between me and the door and I didn’t know what to do.
“Her face was covered with Daddy’s blood and she was just about to grab me and I saw this big, heavy glass vase on the table beside me. I’d given it to her as a Christmas present a few years earlier. I’d even given her the flowers that were in it the week before. I didn’t even think about it, I just grabbed that vase and smashed it over her head. I killed her,” she said, glancing over at Chuck. “I killed my own mother.
“But then Daddy started moving. I thought that he was going to be OK so I rushed over, but he started growling and snapping his teeth together. I yelled at him, trying to let him know that it was me, his daughter, Elizabeth. He rolled over and started crawling towards me, trying to grab my leg. I backed up and tripped and landed on my back. Daddy reached for my ankle but I managed to snatch it away before he could bite me. I jumped up and ran out the back door.
“The ambulance and a police car were just pulling up. I told the officer what had happened and I think he was about to throw the handcuffs on me. But then Daddy stumbled out the back door making those terrible noises. He was covered in blood and you could see where Momma had bitten him on his arms, his face, his throat.
“Daddy started running up the driveway towards us and the police officer told him to stop. Daddy just kept coming and the officer started shooting. He must’ve shot him five or six times in the chest but it didn’t even slow him down. But just as Daddy got to him, the officer shot him in the head and that was it.”
Elizabeth was breathing hard, her eyes squeezed shut, the memory vivid in her mind. After a few minutes, she continued.
“I killed my mother and I was responsible for Daddy getting shot and I feel guilty every single day. That’s why I live on campus. I never went back to my house again. I had some friends go pack up my things and bring them to me. The president of the college told me that I could live in one of the guest rooms in the dormitory if I would serve as a Resident Assistant.
“And now, Jason, Margo, and Lamar, they’re dead and I’m alive. I didn’t even try to save them. I don’t know what I could have done differently, but I should have done something. I failed my parents and I failed my friends.”
Elizabeth’s voice had gotten stronger as she had talked and it appeared that she’d cried all that she was going to cry. That’s a lot for anyone, but especially a young woman, McCain thought. Now, she just looks sad with no light in her eyes.
Chuck nodded. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all this and I’m really sorry about your parents. How do you think your mom got infected?”
Benton looked at McCain and sighed deeply. “I heard on the news that some people got infected through their medicine. Is it possible she could’ve gotten the virus like that?”
“Very possible,” he nodded. “Months ago, that was the first part of the bio-terror attack. Some of the Iranian terrorists were able to get jobs at pharmaceutical warehouses and infected hundreds of prescriptions with the virus and then mailed them out all over the country. I’m guessing your mom was on medication for her blood pressure?”
“She was,” Elizabeth said. “And I know she got her prescriptions sent to her through the mail.”
“We were able to intercept some of those bad drugs but not all of them,” said Chuck, looking into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I know that nothing I say is going to make you feel any better, but you can’t keep beating yourself up. There was nothing you could’ve done to help your parents. Nothing. Obviously, your mom was a victim of those tainted drugs, she turned on your dad becaus
e he was there, and unfortunately he also became a victim. Ultimately, your folks were killed by the terrorists who used a bio-terror weapon. You were fortunate to escape with your life.
“And as for your friends at the truck stop, they were ambushed. Again, there was nothing that you could’ve done. These were really evil people that killed them and kidnapped you. But, I know that really doesn’t help with the guilt. Why were you spared and why were they killed? I’ve asked myself that same question for a while now.”
Chuck saw Elizabeth give a slight nod as if he had read her mind. The big man sighed, looking straight at this girl not much older than his daughter, and decided to dive in deep. He told Elizabeth about his failed marriage many years before. Sadness flooded his heart as he talked about Rebecca Johnson. McCain told Benton how much he had loved Johnson, but how he’d been unable to protect her, and how she had died in his arms after being shot by one of the terrorists involved in spreading the zombie virus.
McCain talked about the pain and the guilt that he carried with him every day and the nightmares that sometimes still came to him in the night. He shared about the remorse he felt from not telling Rebecca that he loved her before she had been murdered. Chuck had had the courage to face down criminals, terrorists, and packs of zombies intent on killing and eating him, but hadn’t been brave enough to tell the woman he loved his true feelings.
Rebecca’s death had been formally reviewed and Chuck had been cleared of any fault in the incident. That didn’t take away his self-reproach, though, or make him feel any better. He knew that he had failed her.
Chuck told Elizabeth about the guilt he carried for not being with his daughter, Melanie. Chuck was comforted knowing that she was with good people and was safe, but he could not get past the feeling that he had let her down by delegating her well-being to other people. He also confessed his fear of not being able to locate Mel and Brian’s family.