by Tim Yingling
I leaned over to Rice, not bothering to speak in a whisper. “Let’s find another room to stay in.”
“I agree, that smell is going to get to me fast.” She was the first out the door even though she was on the other side of me.
Before leaving the room, I checked the light switch. Something I should have down a while ago in the other places we entered, but it never crossed my mind. I just assumed the electricity was out because we never used it when we were in the hanger. The fluorescences came on above me. Didn’t make sense as to why they would shut the lights off when they left, but I didn’t ponder it all that much. It was a moot point. The lights worked, that’s all I cared about.
Rice went to the other side of the hall to check those doors. I stayed on the side of the room we just left. I wanted a room on that side so I could see if anyone was coming or not. Every door was locked on her side. Only one was opened on mine. The reason for it being opened was a severed hand propping it open. It looked like the hand had been cut off by the door. The flesh and muscle were smashed inward. The bones at the end were shattered. The pool of blood dried up around the hand. There were still some spots that were liquid toward the center, but that was it. I knew why those spots were still kind of runny, but I didn’t tell Rice why. I guess I should let you know. It’s because that’s where most of the blood was. It seeped out from the back of the hand, causing a small pool. The outsides of the pool dried first, moving inward. The further in the dryness went, the harder it was too dry. The hand had to have been cut off in the last four days or so. No more than that. By the look of the other room we went into, it made sense. That just meant nobody had been in the school for at least three days.
I opened the door slowly after moving my pistol into my left hand. I could see all the way to the end of the room. The room wasn’t destroyed like the other. The desks were still stacked in nice, neat rows. The blackboard was still intact. No windows were busted. There wasn’t even any sign of anybody staying in the room. There was no evidence, save the hand, of what happened in the school. Nor did I want to find any. That was the past. I only cared about the future. If the people who stayed here before decided to come back, I would deal with them then, but not a second before.
After I got the door all the way opened, I walked in a bit. Luck would have it the room was something I was looking for. By the signs and posters on the wall, I could tell the room was a geography room. I needed that so I could find my way to get to my family. Not so much from Commerce to Pilgrim. I knew that route pretty well. But from where I was to Commerce? I had never been in this part of the country.
I set my pack and the pop-up tent down before going over to the bank of computers lined up on the wall opposite the windows. If the lights worked, then I deduced the computers and internet should still work. I turned on the first computer and waited for it boot up. While it booted up, Rice came into the room, dropping her pack and the bag of extra equipment she was carrying. She plopped down in one of the desks, letting out a sigh.
I didn’t wait too long for the computer to boot up. I went to the opposite wall to look at the books. I was looking for one book in particular. There was one, right smack in the middle of the books. It wasn’t the latest version. This atlas was from 2010, but it would do. I flipped directly to South Carolina. I wanted to know where we were. I could have just as easily waited for the computer to boot up, but I didn’t see a printer in the room so I wouldn’t be able to get directions printed off. I would have to mark them down on the atlas and go from there. Being on the roads is the last thing I wanted to do. The going over cross-country would be a lot slower, though.
The computer came online as soon as I found where we were. Looking at the surrounding area, I could understand why the school was so big. The outskirts of Columbia were no more than fifteen miles away from us. That meant some of the people who worked in Columbia would stay in the small area we were in. Don’t blame those people. I never wanted to live in a big city either.
The internet still worked. I automatically went to Google Maps. I had to type in the closest city to us. It came up and then I had to find the school we were staying in. It didn’t take me that long. I did a directions listing of where we were to Commerce. I should have done it to Grey, West Virginia, seeing as how my ex would take our daughter there, but Commerce would do. At first, I was confused as to why it was saying it would only take us just over six hours to get there. Then I realized the search was giving driving directions. I switched it over to walking. That was better, and worse when I saw the results. It said the walk would take one hundred and thirty-six hours. If we walked ten hours a day, it would still take us fourteen days to get there. It was definitely doable. We would have to go through the Appalachian Mountains. It would be slow going up, but quick coming down.
If doing ten hours of walking a day, that would put us at around forty miles a day. We could do more if we wanted to, hell we could even get a couple of road bicycles somewhere if we wanted to. I didn’t know if she would agree with it, and I didn’t bring it up. If she wanted to she would say something to me. I don’t mind the walking. Plus, I had to think of safety. I honestly believed walking would be the safest for us.
For good measure, I even did a search from Commerce to Pilgrim. That walk was a bit shorter. Just over one hundred hours. That’s how I thought of the walking, not in distance, but hours. I don’t know why, so don’t ask. But looking at the directions I did notice something. The walk would take me through Cincinnati. I didn’t think of it before, but I did when I looked at Cinci. My brother lived there. I say lived because I thought of everything in the past tense already. Not Hannah and the kids though. They were still the present. As for my brother, Bobby, at least one of my brothers, I guess I could drop in and see how he was doing. My only other brother, Owen, was in Pilgrim with my wife and kids. If Owen knew what was good for him, he would be looking after my family as well as his.
I took the atlas back out, turning to South Carolina again. I found a magic marker on the teacher’s desk I could use for notes. Not really notes, but the path we would take. For the most part, the path was along the roads. Not major highways. The roads were secondary. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. We would just have to wait and see.
The road from Commerce to Pilgrim, well mostly Cinci, was considered a highway. I would just have to accept it. I have been on that road plenty of times before as well. I know that housing for it was few and far between. I didn’t need to explain that part to Rice.
“You hungry,” I asked her as I put the atlas away.
She didn’t even raise her head as she answered. “I could eat.”
“Okay. Just so you know, we aren’t having a big meal. It’s only going to be canned goods tonight. We will have to wait for later to get good meals.”
She didn’t respond to that. She opened her pack to fish out a couple of cans. She pulled one can of tuna and one can of corn. I took two cans of beans out of mine. I wanted more but wasn’t going to waste my food. If I ate this way, two cans for three meals a day adding up to six days of eating. Would that hold me over? Probably not. It would have to do.
After the food was eaten, I figured it was time to discuss our plans. I laid everything out nice and easy for her.
“Here’s what we are going to do. I don’t want to hit any big towns. Columbia is not far from us and I don’t like being this close to it. We will have to skirt the outside of it. It will take longer. I don’t care about that. I care about safety. Chances are, there are some dangerous folks in there. I don’t want to deal with dangerous folks. Not to mention, it is a decent sized city and the number of people that have been turned is probably a great number. We still don’t have the means to take care of the zombies. Pick your battles, that’s all I have to say about that part. As for when we get out of Columbia, it will be back roads and side roads. Towns will be sparse, but we will still be able to find food and provisions. It should take us about two weeks, maybe no mo
re than sixteen days, to get to Commerce. From there, you could split off to go to Pennsylvania if not before. All you will have to do is go into Ohio, or stay in West Virginia, and walk along the Ohio River to get into Penn. Do you have any questions?”
Rice didn’t. I think she was too tired to even think of a question. She would be even more tired tomorrow when we set out. She didn’t object to me wanting to walk ten hours a day. If we set out at seven in the morning, right after we eat breakfast, we could be done by six at night when we would eat dinner. I was giving us an hour to eat lunch every day. It seemed simple enough to me.
I looked at my watch. It was getting to seven. I told Rice I was going to write down the day’s events right quick and then turn in. She should do the same. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.
Rice didn’t object. She took out her sleeping bag and laid it behind the teacher’s desk. I was going to lay along the back wall. I wanted to be close to the door in case someone came in. She wanted to be out of site for the same reason. I didn’t blame her. She was scared. No shame in that.
Last thing before I turn in. We have heard the sounds of zombies. None of them came anywhere close to the school. I wished I could find out their train of thought. I guess I will just have to wait for that answer.
* * * *
Thursday, 23 June 2016 (Night)
Horrel Hill, South Carolina
713 Miles to Pilgrim, Indiana (407 Miles to Commerce, WV)
The crash of glass woke me up. The first thing I did was look across the length of the room to Rice. I could see her feet sticking out from behind the desk. She must have been too tired to hear the loud, obviously hurried, noise. I say hurried because it was one smash quickly followed by grunts of a human.
My watch told me I had been out for about two hours. The stars outside didn’t offer any light for me to see if anything was coming toward the school. There were no lights on in the parking lot. They must be operated by a switch because the electricity was still on. The computer I used earlier in the day was running.
I pulled my pistol from the holster on top of my pack. Normally the holster would be attached to my leg. I took it off to go to sleep. It would go on my right leg and I liked to sleep on my right side. I could hear better out of my left ear. This only proved my point. It did take a lot for me to wake up from a noise. Before I deployed, and shortly after my son was born little over a year ago, Hannah wouldn’t be able to wake me if the baby was crying. But while on deployment, I would be able to wake up to the sound of a mortar going off. This would still be a minute or two before the sirens would go off for the indirect fire. Essentially, I have two settings when it comes to my sleeping habits: at home – undisturbed; and in combat – completely vigilant. Hannah hated my at home setting. The kids would be up but she wouldn’t be able to get me up to help them. That is if I was able to go to sleep at all. At home, I have a slight case of insomnia. On deployment (which I still consider myself because the entire country is a war zone) I can sleep, but I don’t completely close off my mind.
I maneuvered myself into a kneeling position, aiming the pistol at the door. I left the door slightly ajar, and picked the spot I was in, for this very reason. I wanted to listen for any dangers. It worked. I heard the footsteps walking down the hall before the person knew they were making too much noise.
The footsteps neared our door and stopped. Whoever it was must have noticed the door opened. They moved again, slower than before. The door started to open more. I couldn’t see who was behind the door. That also meant they couldn’t see me. The door blocked our sightline.
The first foot came into the room. It was covered by a combat boot. I waited for the person to enter the room more. As I looked up as the person entered the room I noticed a military weapon. The distinct barrel of the M4 told me the person was military. This person had also taken off his ACU top.
He entered the room fully. I can tell you I was completely disappointed with his actions. I thought I had taught Varner better than what he was doing. He failed to clear behind the door. His failure would have cost him his life if it was someone other than me waiting behind the door.
I lowered my pistol and waited for him to enter the room more.
“Bang,” I said in my normal voice. “You’re dead.”
Varner whirled around raising his rifle. He was going to fire. I reached out as quick as I could, placing my hand on the heat shield of the M4. He fired three times. The rounds went into the wall to my right, a safe distance away from me. The girlish scream he let out scared me even more than him firing blindly.
For the second time in the span of thirty seconds, I was disappointed with Varner. He did not have the rifle in a secured grip. I easily pulled the rifle out of his hands and held it at my side.
Varner was scared. Of what? I didn’t know. I would find out soon, though.
He fell to the floor, weeping into his hands. I looked across the room to Rice. She was up with her pistol out.
“Put it away,” I said to her. She placed it on the table. “You can go back to sleep if you want. If not, come on over here and help me.”
She didn’t go back to sleep. She also didn’t move to help. Neither one bothered me.
I leaned down onto the balls of feet. My head wasn’t exactly even with Varner’s. He was on his knees, hunched over as he wept. Something seriously affected the man that I have trusted with my life on more than one occasion.
I didn’t touch him to talk to him. “What happened?”
He didn’t answer me. He only cried. The dry sobs told me he was going on dehydration. There were a few drops coming from the slits of his fingers, but nothing to indicate he was in a healthy state. From what I could see his skin was clammy and pale. I had to get a better look at him. I lifted him gently, removing his hands from his face. Looking him over as quick as I could, I didn’t see any sign of him being injured or attacked by zombies. I felt his skin. It was cold to the touch. That was bad. It was still in the mid-eighties outside. There was no reason for him to be so cold.
I sat him down before I got him a bottle of water. He drank the whole thing in one sitting. He probably shouldn’t have. If he had a heat stroke, the water would be a complete shock to his body. I waited five minutes to see what would happen with him. Rice had finally joined us, sitting at a desk next to Varner. I didn’t acknowledge her just yet. There was no need.
Varner looked to be coming around as the five minutes came to a close. I grabbed another bottle of water and handed it to him.
“Don’t drink it all, Varner. Slow sips. Use some of it to wet your brow.”
He still didn’t say anything to me. But he did listen to what I told him to do. He took three sips, then he tipped the bottle into the palm of his hand and wiped his brow with it. After he was done, he looked at me. The fear and hurt in his eyes were beyond terrifying. I don’t scare easily, but the fear was horrible to look at. I have known Varner for a year and a half. I have seen this man face off against a room full of insurgents (not alone). He showed no fear then. But he had fear now. I was seriously debating on if I wanted to go out there and take care of the matter myself. Although the debate didn’t last that long. I had to take care of Varner first.
He had a distant look to himself. It could have been the dehydration, but then again it could have been shock. I don’t know which one.
“Tommy.” I tried to make my voice comforting. The look I got from Rice told me it didn’t work. I had to continue to try to reach him. “What happened? I need you to tell me what is going on.”
His eyes shifted slightly. They didn’t turn to me all the way. They only came to about my ear. I didn’t know if he was seeing anything or not.
I looked at Rice. The dull look in her eyes told me there was no help there. I said to her, “Why don’t you run to the bathroom and get some cool water so we’re not wasting all our bottled water?”
She didn’t say anything as she got up and left the room. With her gone, I put my
focus back to Varner. I leaned down close to his ear to make sure he would hear what I had to say.
“I need you to listen to me, and listen close, soldier. If you have some information that I need you better snap out of this state and let me know. I don’t want to be walking into a hornet’s nest without any knowledge. So, you better wake the fuck up before I leave you here. Do you understand me, Soldier?”
I leaned back to my previous position to check my handiwork. Color did seem to come back into his face, a little. His eyes moved more to where he could see into my eyes. His mouth formed words, but no sound came out. I had no experience when it came to reading lips, so there was no way of me knowing what the hell he just said.
I turned my head to him with my left ear facing him. I cupped my hand over the ear and said, “I didn’t catch that. I need you to speak up.”
He spoke a little louder this time. No more than a whisper. I only caught the last word. Coming. Okay, something or someone was coming. Maybe he was referring to more people coming our way. I did tell people to come meet me if they wanted to join. But there was still more to his message.
“I didn’t catch the first part, Varner.”
This time I did hear him.
“Stone is coming.”
Now that caught me off guard. A few seconds later, I was caught off guard again. Rice let out a scream from down the hall. I looked at the door as another sound came from her direction (the only reason I knew is because I knew where the bathroom was). The obvious sound of metal on granite told me she dropped the bucket of water I sent her to get. Stone wasn’t coming. Stone was there.
As quickly as I could (and silently), I put my pistol holster back on. It was a test because I had to undo my rigger’s belt to secure the hostler to my waste. I should have done it earlier in the day, but I made a promise to myself right there that I am going to change out of these ACUs and back into civilian clothes with a normal belt. Easier movement. I also wanted to get Varner out of the way. In his distraught frame of mind, I knew he wasn’t going to be much of a help. The safest place I could think to put him was in Rice’s spot. He walked with me to the spot and allowed me to lay him down. He was taller than me, which also meant he was over a foot taller than the five-foot-long teacher’s desk. It took some maneuvering, but I managed to get him in the cubby hole. Someone, if they were looking, would have been able to spot him. But I don’t think Stone will be coming into the room. He wants me, and that’s what I am going to give him. Along with several of my little friends. Well, not just my friends. I was going to take Varner’s little friends as well. His weapon held more of them than what my weapon did. Not to mention, I took two extra magazines off the kit he was still wearing. I dropped the magazine to the M4 as soon as I picked it up. I wanted to see how many rounds were still in it. A lot of people will think ill of me for saying this, but I know how to tell how many rounds are in the magazine just by the weight. It’s not that hard to do. Years of practice will give you that help. From the weight, I could tell that I had two full magazines with one about half-full, probably two or three rounds short – those three rounds he put in the wall when I talked to him.