by Kirk Withrow
Dallas County, AL
Animal emerged from the gloomy interior of the old country store, a bulky pack slung over each shoulder. Rejoining the others, she was surprised to see Kate standing with the four men. “Who’s the chick?” she asked with a hint of contempt her voice.
Seeing Kate’s eyes narrow in reply to the subtle rib, Plant muttered under his breath, “Uh-oh, cat fight. Lioness don’t take kindly to anyone moving in on her quarry.”
A disconsolate moan echoed between the abandoned buildings, as bleak and foreboding as the cold wind snaking through the barren trees. Everyone in attendance at the impromptu gathering knew what that sound meant. Reams spoke first, saying, “Looks like the time for introductions has passed. I’ll ask mom if we can set a play date real soon, but for now we should think about calling it a day. John, grab that fuel can.”
Reams caught Animal eyeing him like one might a turkey leg that had been slow roasted to perfection. He found the appetence in her eyes unnerving, and he glanced over his shoulder to see whom she might be looking toward. Seeing no one else, he turned back and noticed the same lascivious glare fixed in his direction. Were it not for the slowly receding darkness of night and his degree of pigmentation, Reams was certain his face was glowing bright red. He felt the heat radiating off of his blushing skin. What the hell is she looking at? She looks like my Uncle Charles at the all-you-can-eat buffet at Ryan’s Steakhouse. I sure hope her ass ain’t one of those damn cannibals! The warm flush continued surging through his body, directing his thoughts toward another potential meaning behind the look she continued to bore into him.
“As Ethan mentioned, we are heading to Atlanta to help my friend, Dr. Lin San. She is a neuroscientist who is working on a cure for the plague. You are welcome to join us. We can use all the help we can get, but I think Reams is right—it’s time to get moving,” John said.
Plant considered his words for several moments. Having known Ann for as long as he could remember, he immediately picked up on the unflinching stare she had locked onto Reams. I suppose we may as well join them because, either way, I know we will be following them, he thought to himself. Once she set her eyes on something, she rarely stopped pursuing it until she got it. He turned to his companion, and without exchanging a word, they decided to join the group on their journey to Atlanta. “Okay, we’re in. But there’s something we have to take care of first. It might take us a few days, so you guys can go on ahead and we can catch up with you. Let’s head down to the interstate, away from the rot pack heading this way, and you can show us the route you plan to take,” Plant said
Alarm bells went off in John’s head at the thought of giving the strangers so much information. If life in the apocalyptic wasteland had taught him anything, it was that people generally could not be trusted. With the sound of the approaching horde rising steadily, John decided to set his concerns aside for the time being. After all, they let us go when they could have certainly killed us. “All right. Let’s load up. You guys have transportation?” John asked.
Grinning like a mule in a briar patch, Plant waved his arm in the direction of the old, beat-up sedan, looking rather like a glamorous game show assistant showing off an exotic new automobile up for grabs. The car appeared to be in such bad condition that John’s group had not given it a second thought when they first arrived at the gas station.
Plant’s glowing smile faded somewhat when he took in their collective looks of concern about the abilities of the vehicle. “Look, this piece of junk made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs. She’ll make point five past lightspeed,” Plant said in his best macho space pilot persona.
Rolling her eyes—and taking them off of Reams for the first time—Animal said, “Come on, you scruffy-looking nerf herder. Let’s get going before the stench brigade shows up.”
“Too right you are, sister. We’ll meet you guys down on the interstate,” Plant said as the two of them slid into the beat-up sedan and pulled out of the parking lot.
The four survivors stood speechless as they watched the sedan’s taillights fade down the off-ramp. Finally, John broke the silence, “Is it me or were those two ninja assassins wisecracking and quoting movies like this was just another day rather than the end of humanity? Right after they were about to execute us, no less. The wonders never cease.”
Still dumbstruck, they nodded and climbed into the refueled H2. As the last door slammed, the first rev—rancid and ruined—shambled out of the murk.
Leaning forward over the center console, Kate said, “I know one thing, the way the Animal was looking at Reams, I’d say she either wants to eat him or screw him. Either way, it seems she’s got a taste for you.”
In the ensuing silence, one could have heard a mouse pissing on a cotton ball—until John abruptly burst into sidesplitting laughter.
“That’s real funny, man. Real funny,” Reams said, embarrassed by the sudden attention.
“Dude, I’m sorry. It’s just the thought of Animal eating your big ass is too damn much,” John choked, his eyes flooding with tears.
“Let’s hope she doesn’t want to eat his big ass,” Ethan said, as though it was the most normal thing that one could say in conversation.
“Amen to that, brother,” Reams said.
“Interesting. So you want to screw her?” Kate asked, smirking, and clearly enjoying watching Reams squirm.
“Oh for shit’s sake, can we just get the hell out of here? Or maybe I should see if he wants in on the fun, too,” Reams said, motioning toward the infected hotel employee approaching the hood of the truck.
Still dressed in a vest and bowtie, the thing wore a crooked Travelodge nametag that read ‘Rodney.’ Both eyes had been plucked from his skull, and he walked forward with both arms extended directly in front of him as though they where curb feelers on an old Chevy Malibu.
“You guys are as bad as those two ninjas!” Reams added.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, John took a steadying breath to regain his composure. While he saw nearly a dozen staggering forms highlighted by the red glow of the taillights, only Rodney blocked the forward path. “Sorry Rod, I’d honk if I thought it would help,” John said as he shifted the Hummer into drive.
Thump……dadunk…thunk…
As the former bellman disappeared under the H2’s formidable front bumper, a small, furry projectile hurtled toward the windshield. As it loomed closer, John thought it might be a bat or a flying squirrel, and he found himself strangely concerned about the possibility of catching rabies. Upon impact, however, he saw the polyester mesh base on the underside of Rodney’s toupee pressed against the glass directly in front of him.
“That’s messed up,” Reams said.
Without a word, John turned the windshield wipers on and swept the thing to the side.
Kate glanced out the rear window and saw the hairpiece flutter through the air, looking very much like a bat, before landing less than five feet from where Rodney was already starting to sit up.
* * *
John steered the big truck down the exit ramp and back onto the congested interstate below.
Sifting through the dwindling remains of their food cache, Kate said, “We still didn’t replenish our food and water supply.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t get eaten either,” Ethan added with a sigh.
Weaving through the traffic and debris, John saw the sedan’s taillights appear in the distance. When the mysterious duo pulled out of the gas station parking lot he halfway expected them to simply fade into the bleak landscape, vanishing without a trace. “I’ll be damned. Looks like they stopped after all,” John said as he pulled up behind their parked car. Plant and Animal sat on the trunk of the car, still dressed completely in black.
“Reams, maybe you should stay in the car. You know, just in case,” Ethan said as he unlatched his seatbelt.
“Ethan, I’m warning you!” Reams said, but Ethan was already climbing out of the truck.
John and Ethan approa
ched the duo cautiously, noting their weapons were still at the ready. That doesn’t mean a thing. A person would have to be crazy not to have their weapons ready at all times out here.
As they approached, the broad, toothy grin of a used car salesman spread across Plant’s face. “Fancy seeing you out here! What brings you folks to this little corner of the plague-ravaged Alabama hinterlands on this lovely morning?” Plant said.
Before either man could respond, Animal said, “Where’s the chick and the big guy?”
Ethan shot a mildly concerned look in John’s direction. “They’re in the truck. Reams is looking after Kate. She’s still a bit shaken up after the incident back at the hotel,” John said.
“What, are they like a thing or something?” Animal asked.
“Huh? No. I mean, I don’t know. What are you asking?” John said, sounding more than a little awkward in his reply.
“Okay, okay. That’s enough, Ann,” Plant said. “You’ll have to excuse her. She has a bit of an appetite, if you know what I mean.”
John resisted looking at Ethan, whose intense gaze was now burning a hole in the side of his face.
Kate’s voice inserted itself into the conversation rather unexpectedly, making everyone jump except Animal, who did not look as though she had heard anything at all. “Do you guys have any extra food or water?”
“Damn it! There you go with that sneaky shit again!” Plant said as he raised his hand to his chest as if feigning a heart attack. “We can probably help you out. What do you need?” Plant said, as he slid off the car’s trunk.
Animal glared at him for a brief instant before rolling her eyes and sliding off as well.
“We are getting low on food and water. We were trying to restock at the hotel, but…” Kate said, dropping her gaze toward the ground.
“No problem! Welcome to Mr. Plant’s rolling general store—the best place for all your post-apocalyptic needs. We only accept credits—your money’s no good here.” Plant popped the trunk, and they stared in amazement at the capacious trunk filled nearly to the point of overflowing with all manner of food and water. “Take what you need. Mi maletero es su maletero—or something like that,” Plant said.
“Wow, that’s very generous of you! But you guys are coming with us to Atlanta, right? We won’t need to take much,” Kate asked in a hopeful tone that surprised even her.
“Yeah, about that,” Plant said as he shifted to face them, his hand drifting casually to the hilt of his kukri.
Animal also turned to face them; her hands resting on the handles of the deadly brush tools on her hips.
For a tense moment, Ethan debated his next move; fearing they were about to be ambushed by the two veritable strangers. Just as the former soldier was considering launching himself into Plant to knock him off guard, Plant said:
“We would like to go to Atlanta with you guys. If there is even a remote chance of curing this shit then we both want to do whatever we can to help. But, the thing is, we are on our way to find Ann’s sister. We have been in contact with her via shortwave radio intermittently since the beginning of the outbreak but haven’t been able to raise her for about a week now. She’s a great girl, and if we find her I think she would be a big help as well...if she’ll come with us. I know you guys are trying to get there as soon as possible, but we still need to check on her.” After a brief pause, he continued. “It should only take us a couple of days, and then we could head to Atlanta if we knew where to meet you.”
Despite their less-than-friendly introduction and the fact that he knew virtually nothing about them, John liked the quirky pair. When Plant spoke about Ann’s sister, John saw sincerity and concern in his eyes. Even with their capable hands resting on their deadly weapons, he did not feel as though they intended them any harm. John’s gut told him that they could be trusted, and he made the decision to follow his instinct.
With the threat of the perceived ambush dissipated, John, Ethan, and Plant studied a map spread out on the H2’s hood. Reams and Kate loaded some of the supplies into the Hummer while Animal kept watch. Kate smiled to herself when she caught Reams sneaking the occasional glance toward the woman who was intently scanning the area around them. An unmoving sentry, Animal perched on the sedan’s hood, silhouetted in the predawn light like some gargoyle–hood ornament chimera, ready to devour any threat that ventured too close. Despite the definite aura of ferocity surrounding her, Ann’s jet-black hair blew against her powder white skin making her seem as beautiful and fragile as a china doll. Having seen what the woman was capable of, Ethan definitely felt safe knowing she was standing guard.
Plant told John that he and Animal had been living in Birmingham, Alabama, when things started to get really bad. Realizing that something significant was happening, they holed up in Plant’s downtown loft for as long as they could until the need for food and water forced them out of hiding. He described the horrors they witnessed from the window of his apartment while they served their self-imposed quarantine.
“As bad as it was, we learned a great deal from watching the world outside die its slow, agonizing death. It was really Ann there,” Plant said, pointing to the statuesque figure balanced on the car’s hood. “I wanted nothing more than to bury my head in the sand and wait for the whole damn storm to blow over, but Ann saw the bigger picture. She forced herself to observe and to learn. She watched the infected and learned from the mistakes of others. Her diligence, sitting by that window—forcing herself to endure the ultraviolence like Alex undergoing the Ludovico technique—that’s why we’re alive today. I guess you could say I owe her my life.”
Shifting their focus back to the map, Plant pointed out the approximate location of Ann’s sister the last time they had spoken with her. She and a small group of survivors had been clearing the infected in an attempt to establish a safe haven near Mobile. At last communication, they were making good progress, with an area of about two blocks walled off and a little over twenty survivors. It was the largest group of non-criminal uninfected that any of them had heard of since the epidemic gutted the country more than a month ago.
Seeing the small settlement as a tiny beacon of hope for the future, both John and Ethan immediately saw the value in their mission. The pained expressions on both of their faces told Plant that they, like everyone else in the plague-ridden world, had lost people and understood the responsibility to family. When Plant finished, John outlined the route they planned to take to the CDC facilities in Atlanta. He told Plant about Dr. San and the brief, broken communication he had with her at the beginning of the outbreak. When he finished with all the details, John gave Plant a tentative look before asking him one last question.
“You guys travelled along I-59 before turning south to get here, correct?” John asked.
Plant nodded his head in affirmation.
“Did…did you happen to come across a little girl—eleven-years old, curly blonde hair, emerald green eyes? Her name is Ava. She’s my daughter,” John said, his eyes shifting toward the ground as if unwilling to leave his pain on display for all to see.
As he was looking away, John did not notice the look of recognition that slowly spread across Plant’s face. “Ann, do you remember those two people we found hiding out in that old farmhouse four or five days ago?” Plant asked.
John’s head shot up, threatening to explode with unabashed excitement.
“Brad and Emily? Yeah, why?” Ann replied without taking her watchful eyes off of their surroundings.
The look of utter despair that swept over John’s face was the antithesis of the expression he bore only a second earlier. The change was so sudden and dramatic that Plant wondered if that was what happened to people who were said to die from shock, fear, or any other emotion for that matter. Feeling impossibly small, Plant said the only thing he could manage.
“Dude, I’m sorry.”
16
October 24, 2015
Dallas County, AL
They drove in silence f
or a long time after parting ways with Plant and Animal. John sat in the passenger seat staring vacantly out the window as Reams drove east.
Kate watched a solitary tear rolled down John’s cheek. It sat undisturbed for so long that it finally evaporated, disappearing into the world around him. She worried that very same thing might be occurring inside John; the thought made her shudder.
For a long time, John thought only of Ava—about the impossibility of his little girl surviving in this harsh world on her own. On an intellectual level, he understood that all probabilities pointed to his little girl being gone forever. Even so, he refused to accept that answer. Somehow he knew otherwise, despite his heart breaking for what felt like the millionth time. In light of the elation he felt at the possibility that Plant had seen Ava recently, the precipitous plunge to a place so dark and miserable it could only be the sub-basement of Hell nearly crushed his soul. Fragile things like souls are not designed to withstand such extreme fluctuations. Still, he managed to crawl back up from those great depths once again, back to the surface, and what little light remained in the bleak world.
For the next several days they made slow, steady progress across Alabama’s black belt. The population density in the impoverished region was low, having been on the decline even before the epidemic. Now much of the area was little more than a string of ghost towns. Rather than the rampant chaos and destruction seen in the larger cities and population centers where panic and the mob mentality reigned supreme, the manifestations of society’s demise in this part of the state were those of dearth. They saw no uninfected people, and very few of the infected. Even so, they knew the revs were there, lurking unseen.
They drove through more than one jerkwater town that appeared as though the few individuals that had lived there simply disappeared as if in the rapture. No bodies, no burnt husks of buildings, no smashed windows, no trash strewn about everywhere—just business as usual for the little one-horse towns. A glaring exception to this relative normalcy came as they drove through a wide spot in the road called Wilmer’s Crossing, population 5. A crude, rusted, wrought iron arch stretched over the road. The town itself was so small that the sign, which read: ‘Wilmer’s Crossing – Gateway to the East,’ served to welcome traveller’s both coming and going.