“So, why didn’t you just drive through them?”
“Fuel got too low. I didn’t want to risk running out. Then I’d be really screwed. Nobody has time to bleed the air out of the fuel lines anymore.”
“True. So, where are ya headed?”
“Whichever way the wind blows, I guess, I lost…” He cleared his throat. “I lost everything a couple of weeks ago. Don’t really have a place to call home anymore.”
“Sorry about your loss. All of us have lost folks too. We’re headed up to Washington State. Would you like to join us? It would be great to have that cowcatcher clear the way.”
“Sure, sounds good, but I need fuel before we get too far.”
Bill looked over at the 4Runner and gave Charity a thumbs up.
“I just got word from one of my navigators. There is a gas station up ahead with pumps that you should fit into. Let’s head up there, and we can discuss things further.”
“Ok, sure. Sounds good,” Dennis replied with a quizzical expression on his face. Without another word, Bill told everyone to load up because they were moving up the road about two blocks.
Once there, Dennis pulled the big rig up to the underground tanks since the power was off. Bill pulled out the manual pump, connected the hoses, and then had Shane come over and crank on it. He considered having Phillip do it, but after yesterday, he was going to give him a break today. While the tanks were being filled, Bill and Dennis continued their conversation. The guard detail was doing a fine job of keeping thrillers away.
“What’s the deal with the helmets?”
“They are tactical helmets we got from an Army National Guard outpost back in Texas. They let us communicate with each other, and it actually saved my life in a firefight with some asshats earlier today.”
“Really? Well, that’s cool. Why are you going to Washington?”
“My dad has a ranch up there, and it would make a great place to start a new community. It will be easily defensible, and there’s plenty of farming land.”
“Well, that sounds nice. Yes, I think I will join your party. It’ll be nice to have good folks around again.”
“Glad to hear it, Dennis. Welcome to the team. Did you build the giant cowcatcher yourself?”
“I knew a guy that owned a welding and fabrication shop just outside Omaha when the crap started. I headed over there, and he did most of the work. All I did was use the band saw to cut the lengths of raw materials. It’s made from heavy-walled steel square tubbing. It’s bolted to the frame, and I’ve used it to push everything out of the way from biters to school busses. I also helped hold things in place while he tacked it in. He taught me how to weld a little, but if you look, you can certainly see the difference.” Dennis chuckled softly at that. “After the work was done, I told him what my plans were, but he said he didn’t want to go. I thanked him for being such a great pal, and he said if I was ever back that way to look him up.”
“Sounds like a real nice guy. I hope we find more like him along the way. We could use people with those kinds of skills.”
Just then, Q and Mike came back with some tires from the dealership a half a block up the street.
“Dennis, if it’s ok with you, I want to bolt these tires onto the back of your trailer.”
“Yea, I guess. I noticed you guys all have them on the backs of your trailers too. What is up with that?”
“It’s for when we go through a town that’s heavily congested with thrillers. We get nut to butt and create a pathway through them.”
“Thrillers, huh? Well, that certainly is an interesting name for them. But yea, that sounds like a grand idea.”
“Cool, so where were you nine days ago when the shit hit the fan?”
“Well, like I said, I was home in Omaha, and after…well, you know. I thought if I could make it up to the Great Lakes, then I’d be all right. Get a boat, fish, and have plenty of water. There are sailboats up there with wood-burning stoves, and all I’d have to do is dock at one of the national parks. I could hunt for fresh meat and get wood for the stove. I was taking my time, trying to avoid as many people as possible.”
“I don’t blame ya, but you’re with us now. We talked on the way over here, and since you’re willing to join us, we nominated you as the new leader of the pack. Is the trailer seriously empty?”
“Well, gosh, thank you. Yes, it is. I dropped off my last load in Omaha before I headed home for a few days off. I was supposed do a pickup in Lincoln when I hit the road again.”
“Gotcha. Well, if you’re really in it for the long haul, yes, pun intended, then we could use that space and your talents. I want to have as much food, water, and baby wipes as possible to get us through the winter and into next summer. The trailers we have are about half-full right now. That way, we can survive until we get some sustainable farming going and not starve like Ethiopians.”
“God, I haven’t heard an Ethiopian joke in years.”
“Well, have you ever had Ethiopian food?”
“Nope.”
“Neither have they.”
“BWAHAHAHAHAH!!! Oh man, that is good stuff there.”
“Thanks. Ok, let’s get you fitted for a helmet ’cause it looks like you’re almost full and we need to get going.”
“Where are we going, by the way? Like, today? If I’m going to lead, I gotta know.”
“Oh shit, you’re right. We’re going to Red Wing Minnesota tonight. The guy driving the blue truck has family there. We’re going to find out if any survived or not.”
“Gotcha. Well, if he can show me the way he’s got planned, I would love to lead the way.”
After Q and Dennis talked about the route they were to take, Dennis agreed that it was a good one for avoiding a lot of problems. He had driven truck all over this area for the better part of thirty years and knew it well. After a short discussion, the convoy was back underway. Bill was beginning to feel like this was the day that would never end.
The first part of La Crosse, Wisconsin, was easy enough. They followed South Avenue as it paralleled the river. They drove past a bowling alley, another Walmart, and a cemetery. The streets were fairly congested with thrillers and cars. Dennis’s cowcatcher worked as well as Bill had hoped. When they got to the hospital, though, Bill started having flashbacks of the one they’d passed not but a couple of days ago. The corner of South and Sims was completely blocked with crashed cars, and beyond that, the streets were filled with thrillers. Thinking quickly, Dennis turned left onto the train tracks, and everyone followed.
“Hang onto your hats. It’s going to get real bumpy up here.”
They followed the tracks around behind the hospital and took a right on Seventh Street. Dennis pushed several cars out of the way and squished thrillers in between them. As Bill passed by, he could see some of them had popped like overheated Tupperware full of chili in the microwave. Then the skies opened up again and poured down rain as the convoy reentered South Avenue.
“Holy moly guacamole, someone doesn’t want anyone crossing this bridge. It’s been torn down. What the heck?” Dennis said in a very frustrated way.
“There is another bridge further up, on Interstate 90. We could try that one,” D replied.
“Just everyone be on the lookout for any biker gangs,” Q said smartly.
“All right, everyone, back up so we can turn onto Third Street,” Bill said without missing a beat.
Papaw backed up Behemoth, and everyone followed suit. When it was clear, Dennis turned up Third Street. They continued that way until it merged back with Fourth Street and became Copeland Avenue, where the convoy was able to speed up to thirty miles per hour. As they passed Clinton Street, they could see the bridge there had also been blown to bits.
“Jesus fucking Christ, goddamnit. I hope that we can get across. If some fucking piece of shit asshole jumps out and starts shooting at us again, I’m going to turn his asshole inside out and choke him with his own intestines,” Bill said, really getting worked
up at this point.
“Could you please not use the Lords’ name in vain? This might be the end of the world, but I still want to go to heaven when I die,” Dennis said.
“Sorry, man. I won’t make any promises, but I’ll try.”
“Thanks. By the way, I was Church of Christ before all this crap started.”
“Cool, thanks for the heads up.”
They continued on, going around the clover and up the onramp to Interstate 90. Almost to the Minnesota state line, traffic had been detoured onto one lane of the eastbound side by pre-ZomPoc construction. Without warning, Dennis sped up his truck and pulled away from the convoy. There was a loud bang followed by a screech of metal, and the semi slowed considerably.
“Don’t worry, guys. I got them out of the way for ya.”
“Dennis you’re my new hero today.”
“Aw, shucks.”
As Bill passed the blockade he hadn’t known existed a few seconds ago, he could see that it had been two cars parked nose to nose. When Dennis had hit them, it had made an opening wide enough for the convoy and sent some thrillers flying over the concrete barrier.
They followed the highway along the Mississippi River, passing a few small towns here and there, but they never did run into any more trouble. The chatter over the coms came to the consensus that the rain and dreary weather was keeping the bad guys inside, doing whatever their little bad-guy brains thought up.
“I hope this rain cleans out all the gunk that’s built up in the wheel wells too. A car wash is low on my priority list right now. But it sure would be nice to get some of that stench off the rigs,” Bill said
“I never thought I’d say this, but I’ve kinda gotten used to the smell,” Q said.
“I think your sniffer is broken,” D teased him.
“That may be true, but at least I’m still handsome.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
Just before entering the town of Red Wing, they turned up Flower Valley Road and then right again on Highway 58. Then, after a few miles, they turned off the paved road and went another two miles up a gravel road until it ended.
“Well, gang, we’re here,” Q said into the coms so everyone could hear.
At the end of the road where they sat were five houses, and the front doors to all of them stood wide open. It gave everyone a creepy feeling, but it was after dark, and they were going to stay here for the night. They’d left Fort Wayne eighteen hours ago and were completely exhausted.
“Ok, people, I need five teams of two,” said Bill. “We need to clear each house and close the doors so we know shit’s not going to sneak up on us tonight. It seems pretty remote and secure here. We will still have two people at a time on watch—if nothing else just to keep each other awake.”
Bill and Charity cleared one house and agreed that it looked like a group of mouth breathers had ransacked the place. Then they headed over to the house Q had grown up in. Once inside, they found Q, D, and Andre standing in the kitchen looking at something.
“What’s up, guys? Looks like you found something,” Bill said.
“It’s a note from my brother. He said they headed up to the hunting cabin. It’s a five-mile hike through the woods, but there is a lake. We used to fish there all the time, all year long. I guess we’ll head up there tomorrow after first light and see what’s going on.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me, man.”
Everyone went to bed and slept like the dead. Early the next morning, just as first light was breaking, Q, D, Andre, Charity, Sally, Leah, and Bill set out to the cabin. The clouds broke, the air was cool, and the sun had not yet crested the horizon. They each had a backpack with water, food, and spare ammo. Two hours later, they arrived at a curve in the trail, and Q cautiously stepped around it. He let out a whistle like a bird call. No response. He repeated the whistle. Still nothing.
“Well, shit. This sucks. Let’s go in and see.”
As they approached the cabin, they could hear shuffling inside. Q loudly rapped on the door and heard the hunger call of the thrillers.
“Ok, you three say back over there. We will go in and take care of them. I don’t need you freezing up and getting bit because it’s family,” said Bill.
“Yea, thanks, man. Please be careful.”
“Careful is my middle name.”
“Sure it is, Mister Run-in-head-first-to-everything,” Charity chided.
With a countdown from three on his fingers, Bill burst through the door and crouched down. The other three ladies came in behind him and quickly dispatched all of Q’s family, who had collected by the front door. In a matter of seconds, the small, one-room cabin was clear, and Q came in to inspect everyone.
“Well, here is my brother, and over there is my sister and her oldest kid. Back there are my folks. Dad doesn’t have any bites on him, so I would guess he had a heart attack shortly after they arrived.”
“Yea, I agree. I’m so sorry, Q. We can all sympathize with how you’re feeling.”
“I know, brother. Thank you.”
They all helped carry the bodies over to the bed and laid them all there together, giving them a peaceful final resting place. Q grabbed a quilt that his mom had made when he was a kid and covered them all. Everyone then sat on the shore of the small lake and had a snack and some water. Two hours after they’d arrived, they headed back down the trail to the convoy.
Papaw was waiting for them at the trailhead, and he looked panicked.
“Jane and Sasha took off! I tried to stop them, but Jane said they were going to just go for a drive and look around.”
“What do you mean they took off? Look around at what?”
“I don’t know. That was four hours ago. I didn’t want to split up the group any further and go look for them. Mike offered, but I talked him out of it. If they are in trouble, then he needs more than just himself.”
“I agree. Ok. Let’s back my trailer in that driveway over there and leave it. I have the most agile vehicle, and it can fit five of us. I’ll take Q, Mike, Andre, and Phillip.”
“What if I don’t want to go?”
“Phillip. Look, man, I know we don’t get along, but this is a great chance for you to learn some military tactics. And I need you. You’re a big guy and can look intimidating if you want to. Stick close to Mike. He will show you how to do stuff. That way you can avoid me until it’s time to do tough-guy shit.”
“Fine, whatever, dude. I’ll go, but I’m not shooting anyone.”
Bill gave Mike a sideways glance when Phillip turned away, and Mike just nodded. Ten minutes later, the five guys were on their way to find Jane and Sasha.
Back on the main road, the muddy tire tracks headed left, towards the town. They entered the town, and Bill slowed to ten miles an hour. Everyone was looking out their respective windows while Bill navigated around stalled-out cars and thrillers. They went up and down each street, looking for any sign of the women. On West Street, they found the Sprinter parked under the porte-cochère of a gothic-looking church. Bill pulled up behind it and stopped. All the thrillers around it instantly took interest in the new arrivals.
“Ok, guys, melee weapons only. Let’s keep this as quite as possible.”
The five men hopped out and began making re-dead. After a few minutes, Bill looked in the windows of the Sprinter and saw no one inside.
“Let’s go in and see if anyone is there.”
They went inside the church and found that there were quite a few dispatched thrillers lying around in various offices. The majority of them were piled up in the sanctuary, which did not surprise anyone. They all knew that a lot of people had flocked to their places of worship when ZomPoc had started. After searching the whole facility and calling out loudly for the ladies, there was still no response.
“Fucking fuck ass shit damn cock-waffles. Where the fuck did they go? Let’s take a better look inside the van and see if there are any clues. I fucking hate this shit,” Bill said.
&nbs
p; Back outside, there were a few thrillers that had followed them and were investigating the two vehicles. Once they were re-dead, Bill opened the sliding side door and looked around, but he couldn’t find anything. As he backed out of the van, Q got his attention.
“Dude, what the actual fuck? Look at this. I found it under the wiper of the 4Runner.”
“Huh? Under the wiper?”
“Yea, on the driver’s side. So it wouldn’t be missed by you.”
Q handed Bill a handwritten note that read:
We have your women. We saw your little group come into town last night and thought it was pretty clever of you to drive with your lights off. We almost missed you. If you want to see these two alive, bring the eighteen-wheeler to the jail. We want everything that’s in it. And the big RV too. Bring that too. You have until nightfall tonight, or we kill them.
Red Wing Militia
P.S. We will be having fun with them. Don’t expect them to be the same ever again.
“Goddamn it. Fucking piece-of-shit hose bags. Why the hell can’t people just leave each other alone? Let’s pull up a map and see what we are up against here.”
Bill pulled out his laptop and set it on the hood. They scanned the town until they found the jail.
“It looks like there are trees here that line the fence. We can probably use the cover to sneak in undetected and then go looking for them guys. By my estimation, there were probably fewer than two hundred people that survived day one. And if these guys are pulling some shit like this, I imagine they killed quite a few in the last week and a half.”
“That place looks pretty big though. How do you propose we search the whole thing?” Phillip asked.
“I don’t think we will have to. These guys are arrogant and think they are secure inside the jail. They will probably have some men looking for us at the main gate. The rest will be making noise, and the doors will be unlocked. So, we just waltz in there and win.”
Bill parked the 4Runner at the driving range of a nearby golf course. Mike and Phillip followed in the Sprinter. From there, it was about twelve hundred yards through a wooded area to reach the back side of the jail. They walked the length of the driving range and turned due north at the end of the open area into the forest. Walking as quietly as they could through the woods, they occasionally heard the moan of a thriller, and then they would see a small animal run off in the other direction. When they reached the edge of the woods, there was a clearing for power lines, and then another line of trees before they reached the perimeter fence. They walked south, just inside the tree line, until a smaller building blocked their view of the main building and the gate. One by one, they crossed under the power lines and regrouped at the smaller line of trees.
Beginning of the New Beginning, Vol. 2 Page 11