After The Virus (Book 1): After The Virus

by Archer, Simon

  “We need to take care of the livestock,” I told her. “But I think we can manage a fifteen-minute break on the porch before they decide to start hunting us.”

  She managed a weak laugh before forcing herself to her feet. I rose as well, and we rolled ourselves out onto the porch in the morning’s chill. We’d both had the sense to grab our jackets on the way, fortunately.

  Once again, I was in the big wicker chair, and she took the rocker.

  “Once I can move without fear of bursting,” she said. “I’ll start on the animals. Do your cows need milking or anything?”

  I shook my head. “Grandma didn’t keep them for milk, really. Occasionally she’d make a deal with one of the neighbors, sometimes we’d get a calf, and sometimes they would. If they did, then we’d get milk for a while.”

  “Gotcha,” she said. “I wasn’t sure from looking at them, but I didn’t think so.”

  “It’s good to ask.”

  “What’s the plan?” she asked after a few minutes.

  “We’re making a run over to the Roberts’ to see if he really does have a still in his basement or somewhere, then I’m going to take you up to my shop, just to show you where it is. I want to keep it cleaned up and locked because we’ll be able to do our vehicle maintenance there.” I leaned forward and rested my elbow on my knees. “After that, we need to hit the truck stops in the area, and the two propane shops I know.”

  “Every time you say ‘propane,’ I swear I think of Hank Hill,” Jackie laughed and shook her head.

  “Good old Strickland Propane,” I chuckled as well. “We’ve got a couple of places kind of like that around here. I’m hoping their trucks and tanks are full, so we can get everything topped up here.”

  “I’m guessing we need firewood, too,” she added.

  “Yep. The woodshed is about half-full. I started messing around with a homemade forge and foundry about six months ago, then my business picked up at the shop,” I said. “Might be time to pick that up again.”

  “You’re a blacksmith, too?” Jackie gave me a sharp look.

  “Hell, no,” I answered. “I wanted to learn but didn’t really have much time to do anything with it other than make charcoal. Wood is a decent starter for coal, though, with some encouragement.”

  “You’ve got some coal, then?”

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  Jackie gave a deep sigh and shook her head. “I’d almost say you were a prepper, Henry Forrest,” she told me.

  “Nah,” I said with a grin. “I just had time on my hands and not a lot to do for about six months while I waited for word of mouth to get out about my shop.”

  “Well, thanks to you, we’ve got a pretty decent chance in the days ahead,” she said. “I’m glad I doubled back and found you.”

  “I’m glad you did, too. I ain’t exactly sure I’d do so well on my own,” I admitted.

  “We’re social creatures,” she said thoughtfully. “I’m not fond of being alone, either.”

  “Yeah,” I said, then rose suddenly. “Ready?”

  Jackie groaned and then nodded, pushing herself up out of the rocking chair. “I’d rather just sit there, honestly, but you won’t let me do that, will you?”

  “Do what you want,” I told her. “But I think I have you pegged as being at least somewhat responsible.”

  “Damned if you aren’t right,” she complained, then took the lead heading to tend the animals.

  Together, we made short work of the morning chores, despite the attempts of the various dogs to ‘halp’ as the story goes. It quickly became a point of laughter between us, especially if we managed to get in each other’s ways.

  Jackie started it when she cut me off as I was reaching to collect a couple of eggs in the henhouse.

  “I halp,” she said as she snatched them out from under me.

  “Stahp,” I replied. Memes and stupid internet stories were popular in the military, too, and out in the boonies near Opelika, Alabama, especially funny animal ones.

  After that, we just couldn’t help but giggle periodically and intentionally put ourselves into positions where “I halp” was appropriate. The dogs looked on in confusion, then eventually decided we weren’t going to give them any more food and wandered off to romp in the dewy grass.

  It took about a minute to drive up our driveway and across the street to the Roberts’. Jackie got out and opened the gate, and we rumbled on up to park in front of the house.

  “So there are two outbuildings in the back other than the barn,” I said. “You didn’t check out either of them, did you?”

  “I was otherwise occupied,” she replied and looked out the window in the direction of the fenced-in pasture.

  “Right,” I said. “We’ll check the basement first, then head over and see if the keys we picked up work.”

  “Sounds good, boss,” she said with a smile.

  As it turned out, the Roberts not only had a still in one of the steel outbuildings but also a hobby brewery in the basement, along with racks and racks of wine, brandy, and cognac.

  “Motherlode,” Jackie said as we looked it all over.

  “Think we’ll put this on the list of things to do once we’ve finished all our other supply runs,” I told her. “This is all I needed to see. Let’s go.”

  We started off, and I locked up behind us. Maybe that would be enough to keep the vermin out, but I doubted it. This stuff would need to be checked on every so often.

  Jackie and I piled into my truck and headed off in the direction of my little repair shop. Jackie pulled a small journal out and started scribbling down ideas and what she called a ‘shopping list,’ as I drove.

  “Are we looking for any food, this trip?” she asked.

  “Not this trip,” I replied. “We probably want to tomorrow. I’m not sure how long it’ll take to find and recover a gas tanker.”

  “If we have time, though, we probably should start looking for supplies, though, right?” She made a note in her book.

  “Yeah, provided we don’t run out of light,” I answered. “And here we are.”

  Forrest Repairs was a small garage and office situated at the corner of a T-intersection, with a fenced storage lot, and a reasonably roomy parking lot. It only had two repair bays, though, and they stayed full once word had gotten out about my low rates and high quality.

  “That’s yours?” Jackie pressed her nose to the glass as I turned in. There were about ten vehicles of various makes and models sitting in the storage lot, two in the parking lot, and both bays were filled.

  “Yep,” I said as I swung into a parking space. Old habits died hard. “I guess I should clear out the bays, but I’m pretty sure the engine is out of that one.” I pointed through the plexiglass roll-up door at a ‘well-loved’ Jeep Wrangler. A six-cylinder engine hung nearby on a hoist.

  “Sure looks like it,” she observed.

  We got out and went in. I didn’t bother with the alarm. It wasn’t like there was power for it, anyway. At the entrance to the garage, I paused. What did I need to do here, anyway? My hands kind of itched to get the outstanding jobs done, even if their owners would probably never come to pick them up.

  “What’s up?” Jackie asked as she peeked in beside me. Even through the jacket and other cold-weather clothing we wore, I felt the warmth of her and smelled the pleasant rose of her hair. It was a nice moment, all-too-quickly over.

  “Just trying to figure out what I need to do here,” I replied. “Mostly, I wanted you to know where the place was. I don’t suppose you can do much under a hood?”

  “I can change a tire and drive a manual,” she said with a chuckle, “but I’m game to learn anything you want to teach me.”

  For some reason, I picked up on a bit of a deeper implication in her words, but I couldn’t be certain. If there was more to it, she’d have to wrap a brick in a towel and hit me upside the head with it.

  “I should teach you the basics,” I mused. “Then I’ll get you to teac
h me about the animals and plants and shit.”

  Jackie slipped the rest of the way past me and into the garage, looking around the place in the dim light that filtered in through the mostly clear, somewhat grimy roll-up doors. I just watched as she walked over to the engine hoist and the jeep.

  “It looks a lot smaller when it’s out like this,” she observed. “How much does it weigh?”

  “Two to three-hundred pounds, usually,” I answered matter-of-factly. “Bigger engines can be upwards of six-hundred, and transmissions range from one to four hundred.”

  “I’ll need to work out if I’m ever going to pick that up, then,” she grinned back at me. “So, do you need to pick up any tools or anything?”

  I wasn’t sure that I did, but it’d be otherwise meaningless to be here, aside from showing her the place, if I didn’t get something.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “That was it.”

  “You can’t go senile on me, yet, Henry,” Jackie said, and looked over at the toolboxes and racks while I made my way over to her.

  “Not planning on it,” I said as I picked up one of the medium-sized boxes and gave it a quick paw-through. “This’ll supplement what I’ve already got at the farm. Mostly we’ll just have to keep the truck, the tractor, and your jeep running for now.”

  “Sounds good,” she commented as I latched and picked up the box, then lugged it out to the truck with her in tow.

  “Considering that I might be able to install solar panels at the house,” I rambled. “Might see about setting up a charging station and picking up an electric or three on one of our ‘shopping trips.’”

  “‘Shopping trips,’” she grinned as I started the truck. “I like that. Solar’s a great idea, too. You know how to install it and hook it up?”

  “I read,” I said, reaching up and tapping my temple as I flashed her a grin right back.

  “I think I like you,” she said. “You’re fun.”

  “I try,” I said. “Let me know if I get on your nerves, though.”

  “Sure,” she leaned back and closed her eyes. “But you have to do the same. Sometimes I might over-share or talk too much.”

  “It’s nice to have someone to talk to,” I said.

  The truck eased out onto the road heading north. That was the quickest way to I-85, and then I’d head for the border. Valley had some major chain gas stations and a truck stop. Maybe we’d get lucky and be able to deal with the gas tanker first. Otherwise, the propane supply store wasn’t that far.

  I was tickled that she’d made all the references she had. The difference in our ages wasn’t too much, then. Probably no more than five to ten years. I figured around ten, but I wasn’t going to pry. She’d tell me when she wanted to, and just being in college put her over eighteen.

  She chattered on about random things as I drove, occasionally asking a question, but mostly just talking about animals and ecology, what she’d been learning at Auburn. I tried hard to listen and absorb the words, but I had a lot of things on my mind, too. Hopefully, she wouldn’t mind going over it all again when I could afford to pay close attention.

  I rather doubted it’d be a problem.

  9

  Our first stop after my garage was a large truck stop just on the Alabama side of the border. There was an RV parked in the spaces next to the pumps on the car side and several eighteen-wheelers on the other side, as well as a large building with a few repair bays. I parked at the front and checked the doors. Locked.

  Jackie peered in through the windows. “Want me to check the other doors?” she asked.

  I looked in as well. The lights were off, everything was quiet, and the well-stocked shelves of junk food beckoned.

  “Sure,” I said. “You’ve got until I get a crowbar out of the truck.”

  “Right,” she grumbled and took off at a jog while I sauntered back to my truck and fished around behind the seats.

  I did eventually come up with a three-foot crowbar and marched back to the glass and metal door. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to break it, but I would if I had to.

  As it turned out, I didn’t need to do either. Jackie appeared on the other side and unlocked the front door. When she pushed it open, a stinking wave washed over me, and I almost gagged. The young woman had her face swaddled in a scarf to protect from the stink.

  “Damn,” I muttered, covering my face with my sleeve. “What the hell happened in here?”

  “Rollers and fast food, I think,” she answered, her voice a bit muffled. “One of the ‘employees only’ doors was unlocked, and I came through there. It doesn’t look like there’s anyone dead in here, but I didn’t check extensively.”

  “So we stay out of the Arby’s and Godfather’s,” I told her. “If you can find some garbage bags, start filling them from the chips and jerky.”

  “What about sweets and sodas?” she asked.

  “If you want,” I replied. “Not so much my thing.”

  “Got it,” she hopped the counter and started rummaging on the shelves below while I eyed the cigarettes.

  Nope, it wasn’t time to start that up again. I turned on my heel and headed for the electronics. I pried open a few displays and loaded about four new CBs, several walkie-talkies, and a couple of high-output power inverters straight into my truck while Jackie gathered the food. After that, I went to inspect the big rigs while she continued looting the place.

  From the back door of the truck stop, I didn’t immediately see anything too useful. There were several box trailers and a flatbed, but no tankers. Of course, I couldn’t see everything. Maybe I’d get lucky, and there’d be something on the other side of the repair bays.

  So I strolled out into the back lot and spent about fifteen minutes walking around. Nothing. So much for getting lucky today, we’d have to hit a few more places. That was okay, though.

  A little dejected that my hopes had been, for the moment, dashed, I walked back to collect Jackie and move on.

  “Ready?” I called out upon entering the store.

  “Mostly, yeah,” she replied, her head popping up from behind a display rack. “I didn’t go nuts, either.”

  I didn’t even question her. I just helped load the bags of food into the truck bed.

  “No luck, huh?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “No tankers, and I didn’t feel like cracking open any of the trailers to see what they carried. We’ll have time for that later.”

  “All the time in the world,” Jackie said as we embarked once more on our quest for a gasoline tanker.

  “Something like, I reckon,” I looked sidelong at her. “You bagged a good haul, too.”

  “Mostly non-perishables, drinks, and stuff like chips and jerky. Quick calories, and, well, lots of chocolate.”

  She hadn’t snatched as many sweets as I’d expected, really. In that respect, I was proud of her. On the other hand, I wanted to binge on snack cakes and cigarettes, neither of which we had a plethora of.

  “I saw you checking out the smokes,” Jackie observed as if reading my mind. “Why didn’t you get some?”

  “I’ve quit,” I replied.

  “Oh, cool,” she said with a smile. “I’m proud of you, then.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered as a warmth spread out from the center of my chest at her words, and I focused my eyes on the road ahead. There were other service stations lining the big avenue that we drove along.

  “Henry?” Jackie broke the silence again.

  “Yeah?”

  “Isn’t that what we’re looking for?” she asked.

  I blinked a few times and peered in the direction she indicated. A silver-and-white tank rode behind a similarly colored sleeper longnose. “Holy shit,” I muttered. “It is.”

  I slowed the truck as we came upon the turn into the large parking lot of the travel stop. The fuel islands sat dark, and the store was dark and empty. The tanker truck in question was parked near the station’s fill point for the underground tanks. Hopefully, the driver hadn
’t emptied its eleven-thousand or so gallons of gasoline already. My fingers crossed unconsciously, and I grinned over at Jackie.

  “Good eyes.”

  She may have blushed a little, but I was intent on my quarry. This particular tanker, if it was full, would serve our needs for a while. Long enough for me to find another one, at least. I parked the truck alongside the tanker and got out to give it a good look.

  The tank was running about seventy-five percent full of regular unleaded, the most popular fuel at this particular station. I checked the locks on the cab, and the door swung wide. A strong reek hit me immediately, and I turned my head to keep from gagging. This particular corpse was a real reeker.

  “Shit,” I swore.

  “What’s wrong?” Jackie rounded the front of the truck and looked at me as I dropped back to the ground and put my hands on my hips, gazing up at the open door.

  “The driver died in the sleeper,” I said with a scowl. “He’s a bit ripe already.”

  “Ew,” she stuck her tongue out. “We have to get him out, don’t we?”

  “It’ll probably be faster than going back to get another tractor,” I took a deep breath before taking the plunge back into the foul-smelling interior.

  “I’ll get some garbage bags,” Jackie called after me, and her footsteps retreated quickly.

  “Sorry, guy,” I muttered as I squirmed around to peer into the sleeper part of the cab. Curled up in a fetal position on the bed was a fairly large shape wrapped in several blankets. I was pretty sure he was dead, but I did my due diligence of shouting and shaking him. His skin was tight, clammy, and cold when I felt for a pulse.

  Getting the body out was not going to be easy, but at least he wasn’t overly rotten, and almost tidily wrapped in blankets. Just to check, I wormed my way into the back, caught the corpse under its shoulders, and heaved it up. The man had been heavyset, but he was short and weighed about what I did. I worked him out into the front, partially between the seats, and started having second thoughts.