After Everything Else (Book 1): Creeper Rise

by Brett D. Houser

  Chase watched her face as she told the story. Nothing. He marveled at her, but he worried, too. She had told it, but she wasn’t dealing with it. When she finished, Chase sat silently, digesting the information he had gained, trying to make it fit into what he had already seen. He sat thinking until Sonya pointed out one important fact that he had overlooked in the excitement of the morning.

  “Hey. Those creepers this morning that Marilyn put down. They were out in the sunshine. Have any of you seen creepers out in the sunshine?”

  Chase shook his head but Marilyn spoke up. “When I was walking home from camping, one of them followed me a short ways out into a field from under the shade of the trees. But it turned back pretty quick.”

  Chase considered the implications. “So. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on, and then things are changing. Because those this morning were out in full sunlight, and they weren’t trying to get anywhere shady: they were after us. We’re going to have to be a lot more careful from now on. And this means that if we have to walk that bridge without a vehicle, we’ll be vulnerable. I think things are getting ready to get a lot tougher out here.”

  Chapter 18 – Sonya

  Sonya took the backseat, allowing Marilyn to take the passenger seat with the rifle. Somehow, it didn’t seem fair to Sonya that she had her pistol, Marilyn was carrying the rifle, and all Chase had was most of the responsibility. He drove when things got sketchy, he came up with plans, and he made sure they carried through with them. Sonya was beginning to realize how much she was depending on him and she wasn’t sure she liked it.

  She also wasn’t sure about Marilyn. When Chase had pulled her out of the woods, she had been dirty and almost catatonic. Now that she had cleaned up and was in her right mind, she looked like she could be some real help. Sonya noticed that Chase was looking at Marilyn with a new respect. Sonya had hoped that Marilyn would recover enough to not be a drag on them, but now Marilyn had maybe gone too far the other way. She was ready to take down creepers left and right. Sonya supposed she should be glad. This could be very helpful, especially if the creepers were going to be out and about in the daytime. But there was something wrong there. Sonya had gone through a stage after her mother had died. She had decided she needed to face up to her responsibilities and do everything just right and continue taking care of things in her mother’s absence. And that had worked for a while, but then one night she had melted down and stayed depressed weeks after. Her father had even gotten her counseling. Sonya was afraid what this might mean for Marilyn when the reality of loss came crashing back in.

  Sonya was jolted in her seat when the front driver’s side tire dropped off the pavement and onto the narrow shoulder as Chase tried to inch around a blockade made up of two police cars nose to nose across the highway. The Suburban slid sideways and tilted dangerously as Chase pushed forward, out over the drop-off. They were atop a levee, and the drop-off was sloping, but the chances of rolling down that slope seemed pretty good if things got out of control. The back wheel dropped off the pavement. The Suburban continued to tilt, and then Sonya heard the motor rev. The rear end swung around as the tires spun dirt and gravel until the rear was directly downhill and only the sky was visible in the front windshield. Sonya watched as Chase let off the gas, reached down, and calmly put the vehicle into four-wheel drive. They began moving up and leveling off. There was a metallic grinding and crumpling as their bumper brushed the nearest police car but then they were back up on the pavement and past the blockade. Chase stopped the Suburban and switched it off. Only then did Sonya notice the huge beads of sweat on his forehead.

  Chase rolled his head on his neck. “That was fun,” he said. “Now. Let’s check out those police cars. I’m hoping for some weapons.”

  Sonya wasn’t surprised that the keys were in the ignitions of both cars. “Why do you think they were blocking the road?” she asked. Chase shrugged.

  “To keep people in one place. I think that’s what they do when something like this happens. I mean, I figure it was a sickness first before it turned people into creepers. They were probably trying to quarantine.” He was struggling with the release on a shotgun that was locked in a rack in the car they were both working on. Marilyn was looking through the other car.

  “So what do you think happened to the cops from these cars?” Sonya asked.

  “Stupid thing, how does this work?” he muttered to himself, then answered Sonya. “Same thing that happened to everyone else, probably. They got sick, too. Then they died and got up and started walking around again.” He pulled at the gun in the rack with, and Sonya watched as his face turned red and the veins in his neck started popping out. Then, with ridiculous ease, the gun came free. Sonya almost laughed at the expression on his face. There was a box of shells under the front seat. Sonya thought to pop the trunk to see what might be in there. She was happy when she spotted the huge first aid kit, and they managed to get that out. There was also a locked storage box, and the key that fit was on the keychain in the ignition. There were several boxes of shells in there. Chase expressed his disappointment.

  “Just a shotgun? I think there should be more. There should be a lot more.” He slammed the trunk lid.

  “What if the cop had to use his weapons? What if he had them with him?” Sonya asked. “There are a lot of what-ifs.” They both joined Marilyn who was still searching the front seat of the other car. The shotgun was missing from the rack in her car, but there was more ammunition in the trunk. Marilyn looked at the shotgun Chase held with some doubt on her face.

  “It’s not exactly like the hunting guns I’m used to, but I guess I can figure it out.” She looked over their haul from the police cars. “We have enough rounds for the shotgun to be okay for a while. And we have a couple of boxes for the .30-06. How many rounds for your pistol, Sonya?”

  Sonya felt embarrassed. “I just had what was in the magazine, seven bullets. Chase used one the other night.”

  Marilyn frowned. “So what kind of round does it take?”

  “It’s a .32. If we could find a place, I could get some more bullets for it.” Sonya hated feeling defensive. She still wasn’t sure if she would even use the pistol, at least not as easily as Marilyn had used the rifle.

  “We’ll find a place. Somewhere. Wal-mart, K-Mart. All those place sell ammo, right? We’ll find some somewhere,” Chase told Sonya. He turned to Marilyn, “We have enough rounds for the rifle and the shotgun for now. If the creepers are out in the daytime, we’ll probably need them. But having them also means we’ll be able to go in places like Wal-mart or bigger stores. We can take out any creepers we find inside, then we can get some more of the stuff we need. We can even get more guns if we need them.” Marilyn nodded, and Sonya felt a cold chill at how easily these two were discussing what had to be done.

  “Okay, that’s settled,” Sonya said, more calmly and decisively than she felt. “Let’s get on the road. Best case, we cross the bridge easily and find a good place to park for the night.”

  “What’s worst case?” Marilyn asked.

  “I don’t even know what worst case can be any more,” Chase offered, “but I am not in any hurry to find out.”

  There was no problem at the bridge. The span over the river was clear from Missouri to Illinois and the same for the bridge over the Ohio River into Kentucky. In Illinois, between the rivers, something very bad looked like it must have happened, though. The road between the bridges was clear, but the road going to the north had a blockade. This blockade had been burned, and there were burned bodies scattered around the car. Sonya looked, but wished she hadn’t. A body lay near the road, charred skull grinning at the cloudless sky. The highway on the other side was clear until they came to another road block of two police cars, but the police had not chosen well at that point. There was a grassy area beside the road which Chase used to go around the two cars.

  Once past the road block, though, the fight against the line of cars that had been headed west began. Th
ey were on a stretch of road that was Highway 60, Highway 62, Highway 51, and also Great River Road. With all those things going on, it should have been a bigger road, but the small road wound through a forested area, elevated above what looked like a swamp below. There were no shoulders. Each vehicle that had gotten out of line and into the eastbound lane was a major obstacle in their path. The first two they were able to push by, further damaging the Suburban’s fenders and bumper, but the third was a large delivery van that effectively blocked the entire lane and hung out over the drop-off. There was simply no room for the Suburban to go around. After looking around as much as possible for creepers, they got out to assess the situation. Sonya admitted to herself that she was a little upset when Chase appeared to be consulting Marilyn more about what to do. She felt like a little kid trying to butt into an adult conversation when she tried to make contributions to the conversation. Eventually, she gave up and walked over to one of the westbound vehicles and looked inside.

  What she saw made her sad. There was a car-seat for a baby in the back, a stack of photo albums on the seat beside it, and odds and ends of household goods stashed everywhere. Where had these people gone? She moved on to the next car. The first thing she saw was an atlas in the front seat. Score! She thought. As she was opening the door, Honey started barking. Alarmed, she looked for Chase and Marilyn. They were crowded in the driver’s side door of the van, trying to get it started and out of the way. They looked down the road, so Sonya followed their gazes just in time to see a large pick-up truck come around a bend. When it stopped at the van, the driver stepped out. He wore a pair of OD green coveralls with the sleeves cut off and a black baseball cap. He spotted Marilyn and Chase standing motionless and reached back into the truck and pulled out a shotgun.

  “Wait!” Chase shouted. “We’re alive! We’re okay!”

  “You guys aren’t rotters, are ya? Man, is the Chief gonna be glad to see you!” He was smiling, and seemed genuinely pleased that they were alive. For no reason at all, Sonya had a cold chill go down her spine.

  Chapter 19 – Chase

  Chase followed the tail lights of the big Dodge pick-up. He glanced over at Sonya sitting beside him. She couldn’t seem to relax. When he had heard the big diesel motor of the truck right after Honey had started barking, his heart had skipped a beat. He had first thought it might be big help, like the Army or something. Then he had seen that it was just a big pick-up and just a regular guy driving it. Chase had thought the driver was another refugee, like them. But when Sparky had stepped out of the truck (the guy had actually told them to call him Sparky, which almost made Chase laugh) in the green coveralls, he had gone back to thinking that maybe some more serious help had arrived.

  Five minutes of conversation with Sparky had left him with some doubts, but still hopeful. Sparky told them he was one of three people who had “hunkered down” (Sparky’s words) in a compound that the Chief had set up long before the dying and rising had started. Sparky told them a little about seeing everybody get sick, and all the people dying around him, then all of them coming back. He said he had decided to head up to a deer camp where he had hunted with his dad, then running into the Chief. Chase guessed Sparky was in his early twenties. Chase also guessed Sparky had dropped out of high school, but he was only guessing. There was something about the way he talked. But Sparky had invited them to follow him back to the compound. He used the Dodge and a winch to move the van out of the way. That was his job, Sparky said. The Chief had told Sparky to come west on 60 and clear as many cars as he could along the way. The Chief wanted survivors to find him. From what Chase gathered from Sparky, the Chief had all kinds of ideas and projects going. Sparky had eyed Sonya and asked if anyone wanted to ride with him. Marilyn had said she would. Honey followed her, of course. Chase thought Sparky had looked a little put out, but he hadn’t said anything.

  Chase looked over at Sonya again. She was chewing her nails. He had noticed shortly after meeting her that she was a nail chewer. Her nails were so painfully short that he wondered there was anything there to chew on at all. “Sonya.” She turned to look at him, and he mocked her chewing her nails. She dropped her hand to her lap, where she grabbed it with the other one. “You don’t seem happy to see other people.”

  “Yeah. Weird, isn’t it?” She kicked her feet up on the dash. “He seems okay, you know? But I’m just getting a bad vibe.”

  Chase nodded. “I kind of get that. But maybe we’re just all stressed out and paranoid. I know we haven’t been sleeping good. You know sleep deprivation causes psychosis?”

  “How would we be able to tell with you, Captain America?” Sonya deadpanned the last line, and Chase laughed. He guessed he was feeling some relief. Maybe it was the freedom of driving down the highway and knowing the road would be clear. He was following the big Dodge, and he realized how stressful driving had been on him, not knowing what was around the next bend or over the next hill, always driving at thirty. Now he was going sixty, and a strange giddiness came with moving that fast again.

  After driving for several minutes, Chase began wondering how long Sparky had been working on clearing traffic. It didn’t seem that he would have had long enough to clear the several miles covered. There seemed to be a lot of cars that had been pulled to the side, a lot of work. He wondered where the creepers were, too. There seemed to be fewer in some places and more in others, but in any given mile he had driven over the last couple of days there always seemed to be at least one lurching down the roadway. Just when Chase started getting concerned that maybe Sparky had missed a turn or something, the big Dodge’s brake-lights flashed twice and burned steady as it slowed. Chase braked as well, looking for the turn. It was easy enough to spot.

  The Chief had commandeered a billboard. One of the big ones, with a ladder and a walkway and lights. Still visible through a coat of white paint was the ghostly image of an insurance company advertisement. On the white paint, obviously done by hand with a brush, the lettering was large, neat, and very readable:

  SANCTUARY. WE ARE ALL IN DANGER. IF YOU CAN READ THIS SIGN, YOU ARE WELCOME. FOOD AND SHELTER. TURN HERE. DO NOT APPROACH THIS SIGN. DANGER.

  A large arrow pointed to a small dirt track that led off the highway into a forest. Chase slowed and carefully made the turn. The track was rough and twisted through the trees, and he slowed. Sparky, much more familiar with the bumps and turns, soon left Chase behind.

  “Chase….” Sonya began. A large bump interrupted her.

  “Little busy now, Sonya.” Chase concentrated and tried for a bit to keep up, but then slowed again. If there was a split in the track, he decided Sparky just might have to come back for him. “What is it?”

  “What do you think that was back there?” Sonya asked.

  “Back where?” Chase asked.

  “Didn’t you see it? Back at the turn off.”

  “The sign? What about it?”

  Sonya punched Chase’s arm. “Not just the sign, stupid. The stuff below the sign. The barrels. The color of the ground. The backhoe. What was all that about?”

  Chase shrugged. “Didn’t see it. What do you think it was?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I asked you. It looked like there had been a fire, or explosion, or something. And the ground was all torn up and there was a pile of dirt and a trench. Why did it say not to approach the sign, Chase?” Sonya sounded anxious again, and Chase could tell without looking that she was biting her nails again.

  “I don’t know, Sonya. But you probably need to chill out.” He was getting irritated. He understood she wanted to get to Florida, but this was a chance to get out of the Suburban for a while, meet some more people, figure out what had happened. “Sparky said the Chief had all kinds of projects. That was probably one of them.”

  Just ahead Chase spotted the truck waiting at a split in the road. When he approached, Sparky turned to the left. Chase glanced down the other fork, but could only see where the track led back through the trees a short distance
before turning. He briefly wondered where it went, but then turned his attention back to the severely rutted road.

  Abruptly, the dirt track dropped down a steep incline. At the bottom it crossed a small creek. The water was nearly up to the bottoms of the doors, but Chase eased through, putting the Suburban in four-wheel drive. After climbing the opposite bank, they found themselves in a large clearing. Sitting in the middle of the clearing was a fenced-in enclosure. Once the Suburban drew nearer, the gate opened, and Chase followed Sparky in. When the gate closed behind them, Chase experienced a feeling of relief. Safe. In his peripheral vision he saw Sonya’s hand go to her mouth again. He guessed she didn’t feel the same.

  The doors to the pick-up opened, and Sparky and Marilyn stepped down from the running boards and Honey leaped to the ground. As they slammed their doors, a door opened on a small building just inside the gate, and a girl stepped out. She looked to be roughly Sparky’s age, and she held a rifle pointed at the sky. The rifle did not look anything like the .30-06 that was still in the Suburban. Chase recognized the gun, but only from gaming. He was pretty sure it was an AK47. She wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t seem like an immediate threat, either.