Apocalypse Atlanta (Book 2): Apocalypse Aftermath (Book 2)

by David Rogers

  Jessica grinned, momentarily amused but mostly as an attempt to break up her own tension. She was steadier than she had been, but saying she was okay was beyond a lie. “Sure.”

  He coughed again, and she saw him wince, but when he spoke he sounded serious. “Sling goes across your body, adjust it so it’s snug. Keep the stock up tight against your shoulder or it’s gonna kick into you when you fire. Don’t play with the safety; I put it on burst, but it’s got a full auto mode that I’m pretty sure you don’t want to mess with.”

  Jessica nodded as he gave her back the weapon. She took off her seatbelt and dropped the sling across herself as she’d seen him do before, then started adjusting the little tension gizmos on the strap to shorten it.

  “Take your time in there. Patience. No assumptions. Doors and corners are the big problem; you need to make sure you approach slowly and take a wide view as much as you can. Clear the rooms methodically, first floor then the second. Close doors after you’ve checked the rooms, so you don’t have to worry about them. And my advice would be to make a lot of noise at the door here, then wait and listen to hear if anything’s moving.”

  Jessica nodded. She tried the MP5 for fit, and pulled on the sling a little more. It was still too loose.

  “Mom, be careful.” Candice said, fear evident in her little voice.

  “Stay in the car.” Jessica repeated as she finally got the weapon adjusted. It felt heavy in her hands. Heavy and dangerous. She took a deep breath, then started checking through the windows, moving her eyes across the mirrors, then from the windshield around to the passenger side, out the back, then up the driver’s side. She finished with second survey of the driver’s side before opening the door and looking out at the garage floor and then down the side of the car towards the gravel drive outside.

  Nothing moved. She swiveled on the seat and slid down to land on her right foot, then limped clear of the door so she could close it. She turned in place, looking around again, then headed for the interior door. The knob resisted her attempt to turn it; locked. She hesitated, then moved back from the door and raised the MP5.

  Her first burst split the night with light and noise, startling her; but she kept her feet and fired again. The bullets chopped through the wood around the knob, splintering it badly. The MP5 kicked, but smoothly and she found it much easier to control than her Taurus. Relieved, Jessica fired again, then moved up and tugged on the knob.

  It was a little misshapen from a bullet that had hit it, but this time the door swung back. She reached out with her left hand and pounded the meat of her fist against the door, hammering it back against the garage wall, over and over until she stopped because her hand was starting to hurt.

  Listening carefully, she limped back from the door and checked behind her again. Nothing there. She used the available light from the idling SUV’s headlights to find the magazine release and pulled the magazine out. She forced herself to not hurry as she dropped the half empty magazine into her purse and replaced it with the full one. Then, weapon at the ready, she waited, counting slowly in her head.

  By the time she passed a hundred, checking behind her every ten seconds, she felt like she was just delaying the inevitable. The sooner she got on with it, the sooner it would be done. Cautiously she moved forward. The doorway opened onto a hallway with a hat rack where only two battered baseball caps with John Deer logos hung. She eased up and angled left, then right.

  On the left was some sort of laundry, while the right showed a kitchen. She examined the kitchen, sweeping the light under the weapon’s barrel around carefully. Dishes stood in a drying rack on the counter, a towel spread neatly beneath them, and the carpet was old but clean from what she could see of a dining room beyond the kitchen linoleum.

  Most importantly, nothing moved. No zombie emerged staggering toward her, eager to get down to eating. She stepped through the doorway and checked the laundry, taking her time, then turned and limped slowly forward with the MP5 swinging back and forth. The dining room was clear, even beneath the table. As she went from that to the front room she left the final vestiges of light scatter from the SUV in the garage behind, leaving her in near darkness with only the tactical light’s illumination to pierce it.

  Methodically, ignoring her pulse as it beat a tattoo of mild panic, she moved through the first floor. Front room, living room, some sort of parlor, a ground floor bedroom, half-bath, and a den were all spooky as hell – cut across with constantly shifting shadows and plenty of space lurking behind furniture that she forced herself to check – but all clear. She finished in the den and limped back to the stairs.

  She took them slowly, one at a time, using only her right leg to lift her up each, leaning against the left side railing to ease the weight she put on her bad leg. She ignored the pictures on the wall as she ascended; she didn’t care how happy or how proliferate the former occupants’ family tree was. The top of the stairs was particularly nerve racking, as they ended in the middle of a hallway with doors in both directions. She waited a minute, sweeping the light in both directions before finally picking one and easing up.

  Three bedrooms and a full bath were on the garage side of the hallway, behind her as she stood at the top of the stairs. The closets were the worst, as she had to check the entire bedroom first before then getting close enough to open the closet and look inside. She kept looking behind her, feeling the darkness reaching out with fingers of ice that stroked the back of her neck and spine. It was distracting and unnerving, and scaring the shit out of her. She was breathing as hard as if she’d run a hundred yard dash by the time she made it back to the stairs.

  The other half of the top floor held another bathroom and two more bedrooms, both larger than the others. The one at the end of the hall was the master bedroom, stuffed with antique wooden furniture and an enormous four poster bed that forced her to lower herself down on her good knee so she could peer underneath. She ended with the master bath and breathed a sigh of relief when her light showed the tub was empty behind the shower curtain.

  Going back through the house was scary, but she both kept her ears peeled and her attention focused even as she kept telling herself everything was fine. She got back to the garage and made sure to check around the SUV before moving up and opening the door.

  “Mom!” Candice said, sounding anxious.

  “All clear.” Jessica said, surprised at how calm her voice came out. Her heart was still racing. The adrenaline was definitely back.

  “Good job.” Austin nodded. “Shut the engine off and help me out so I can see if we can get the garage door closed. We don’t want to be visible from the road.”

  Jessica killed the SUV’s engine, then pocketed the key. Austin opened his door and got out, gripping the door and the top of the SUV for balance. The cane was too short for him, but he seemed reasonably content to lean over to use it. He moved slowly, with little of his usual grace and confidence. She could hear his breath rattling hoarsely in his chest. Not quite a wheeze, not quite a cough; but almost like he was about to cough while drowning, over and over each time he inhaled.

  “Help me stand up on the running board.” he told her, gesturing at the garage door opener on the ceiling. Jessica didn’t ask, she just put the safety on the MP5 and let it hang from the sling while she steadied him. He reached up and fumbled at a metal pin on the long bar that stretched across the ceiling to the door. When he got it loose the door sagged down several inches, making Jessica jump in alarm at the noise. He caught himself against the door and groaned.

  “Sorry.”

  “Can you reach the door.” he asked.

  “If I jump.”

  “Don’t hurt yourself.”

  Jessica edged over to the door and stretched up. The bottom edge was just out of reach. She considered, then moved over to the left side of the garage and positioned herself right next to the left wall before hopping. She was able to sort of snatch at the door enough to bring it down several more inches as she landed and w
inced as her left knee protested. Now she could reach the door, and she pulled it all the way down.

  “Rake.” Austin said. He was leaning against the back corner of the SUV watching her, and pointed when she glanced at him. She looked and saw some tools hanging on the wall.

  “What about it?”

  “Jam the handle through between the runners and the door so it won’t open.” he panted.

  It took her a minute to figure out how to do it, but finally the wooden shaft slid through and she nodded in satisfaction. “Okay, master bedroom upstairs. Can you handle the stairs?”

  “Maybe.” he said, sounding pained.

  “We’ll get you up there. Candice, let’s go.”

  Candice got out of the SUV and watched as Jessica propped herself up under Austin’s left arm. He towered over her, which funnily enough made her almost the perfect height for him to use as a walking crutch. Together they moved inside with Candice hovering right behind them, as Jessica gripped the MP5 with her left hand for both light and as surety in case she’d managed to miss something hungry during her sweep.

  The stairs were slow going, and Candice had to carry the cane for Austin as he hauled himself up step by step using the railing. Jessica knew she would never be able to get him upstairs if he couldn’t climb them at least partially under his own power, but it was obvious the effort was costing him. When they reached the top she pointed the light at the door at the end of the hallway. By the time they made it to the bed he was panting, and groaned in relief as he rolled down on it.

  “Candice, close the door. Lock it.” Jessica said as she looked around. There was a cute little half armoire against the wall next to the door. Grunting she managed to slide it over in front of the door after Candice got out of the way. It wasn’t going to hold against everything, but she felt confident nothing or no one would be able to get through the door quickly enough to surprise them.

  “Alright.” Jessica sighed as she divested herself of the MP5 and her purse, setting both one of the bedside tables. “Austin, what can I do?”

  “Help me with all this.” he said, trying to pull the equipment harness off. Jessica helped him out of the gear laden garment, then peeled the jumpsuit’s shirt down to his waist. The armor vest beneath was held in place by a number of Velcro closures that came loose easily enough, and she lifted it away over his head.

  It was already stuffy in the room, and getting warmer. Jessica glanced at the windows and reminded herself they were on the second floor. “Candice, see if you can’t open some of the windows. Not too much though, just a few inches.”

  Austin was rummaging in his pockets and in the pouches on the harness. He came up with a flashlight with a rotating head, a couple of rolled bundles of waxed cloth, and a small plastic box with a red cross on it. When he turned on the light and shined it on himself, she barely suppressed her gasp of dismay.

  The skin on his left flank and chest was red and badly bruised in several places. It looked like someone had been beating on his chest. And there was a bullet wound oozing blood below his shoulder, with another down low on his side. She pressed her lips together firmly as she watched him start peeling off the gauze pads he’d pressed into place in the car. “I don’t know much about bullet wounds.”

  “It’s okay, I do.” he grunted. “See if there are any towels in the bathroom.”

  “I’ll check.” Candice said.

  “Wait!” Jessica blurted, then almost fell as she forgot to take it easy with her left leg. She caught herself against the bedpost, then hobbled around and over to the bathroom. With her right hand on the grip of the Taurus, she peered inside again to assure herself it was still empty.

  “Okay.”

  Candice slipped past her and reached for the towels hanging on the bar next to the shower. Jessica returned to Austin, who was dropping the bloody gauze on the floor next to the bed.

  “Got lucky.” he said.

  “Doesn’t look like it.”

  “Ah, but you’re not an expert.” he said painfully. “Vest won’t stop rifle rounds; too high power. But some of the gear on the vest slowed them down enough, and he was in too much of a hurry to really nail me. Only cost me a couple of mags and my backup-backup pistol.”

  “Didn’t catch them all.” Jessica said as Candice returned with the towels.

  “Nope. So, first thing, check my back and see if there’s holes there that match up to the ones on my front.”

  He gave Jessica the light and rolled slowly over to his right. She peered at his back. “Uh, one up here behind your armpit, and . . . another down near your waist.”

  “Good.” he nodded slightly. “That means the bullets went through.”

  “That’s a good thing?”

  “Means they’re not stuck inside me still.” he said, unrolling one of the bundles. “We need some water. Can you maybe fetch a container or something from the kitchen?”

  Jessica didn’t have the heart to get exasperated after she’d already blocked off the door. Not after he’d taken this kind of damage for her. For Candice. “Sure. Candice, stay here.”

  She collected the MP5 and slung it back into place, then shoved the armoire out of the way and limped back downstairs; this time with the cane in hand so she could use it. She had the MP5 gripped one handed, hanging from the sling but at the ready, as she eased downstairs through the house and went to the kitchen. Rummaging through the cabinets turned up a pair of plastic pitchers, along with some oversized tumblers. She made herself not hurry as she returned to the bedroom, knowing she’d put a lot of pressure on her knee in the past hour or two.

  “Good. Fill them both up and drop two tablets in each.” Austin said when she got back. He tossed a little tube of something toward the end of the bed. He’d already laid out bandages and tape, little one-use packets of medical wipes, and a tube of ointment from the supplies out of his pouches.

  “I’ll do it.” Candice said, taking the pitchers and going into the bathroom.

  Jessica replaced the blockading armoire and picked up the tube on the end of the bed curiously. “Purification tablets.” she read, squinting at the writing barely visible in the limited available light.

  “Yup. Time to stop trusting the water. No telling if the treatment plants are still working.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “Simple.” he grinned. “I’m going to lay here and act manly while you clean all four holes with disinfectant wipes, flush them with water, then slather them in AB cream before taping some bandages into place.”

  “Is that going to work?”

  “It’s gonna hurt like hell.” Austin admitted. “You’ll need to get down in the holes with the disinfectant, and try to be gentle. They need to be cleaned up, but if you’re not careful you might do some more damage to my innards.”

  “I’ve still got some painkillers.” she said. “Want some?”

  “Oh hell yes.” he nodded.

  Jessica limped around the bed and looked through her purse until she found the little plastic bags of pills Dennis had given her back in Atlanta. She felt her eyes dampen a little when she found them; she really hoped he was okay. “Actually, I’ve still got some antibiotics he gave me too.”

  “Yeah, couldn’t hurt. I don’t think I’m going to bleed out at this point, if they get bandaged, so infection is the real problem.”

  She got the pills out and left them on the bedspread; though he grabbed and dry swallowed them without waiting on the water. Jessica shrugged mentally and checked on Candice. The girl was just finishing with the pitchers, having filled them from the faucet in the tub. “They’re heavy.” Candice said when she saw Jessica in the doorway.

  “Here.” Jessica said, reaching for them. Candice gave them over, and Jessica carefully limped back into the bedroom with them. She set them down on the table on Austin’s side of the bed and glanced around. All the furniture was shelves, dressers, chests and such. No chairs.

  “Scoot over some so I can sit on the edge
of the bed. I can’t kneel down and work at the same time with my leg.” she told him. “Candice, open that little tube up and put two tablets in each pitcher. Then see if you can swirl them around some without spilling.”

  “I’m not messy.” the girl said, but she moved to obey.

  Austin made some room, and Jessica positioned herself next to him. She folded two of the towels together and had him roll over a little more, then laid them beneath him before opening the first of the disinfectant pads. “Here we go.”

  “I’m good.” he said, but she could hear the preemptive clench in his teeth.

  She wiped around the edges of the wounds with the first pad, clearing away sticky blood that had dried to a gel-like consistency. She flipped the pad and did the other wound on his back, then got out a new one and started daubing cautiously into the hole. His breath hissed out a little, causing her to wince, but he bore up against it well otherwise.

  It took her several minutes and a lot of psedu0-supressed groaning from Austin before she thought she’d done as much cleaning as she could. “Done.” she said, finished with the ones on his chest as he lay on his back.

  “Okay.” he said, looking down at himself as she shined the light on the wounds on his front. “Let’s try this with me like this. Pour water slowly in. Not too much at one time. If there’s a hole all the way through, I guess it’ll drain out the back. That should flush it out.”

  “Candice, hold the light for me.” Jessica said.

  Candice took the flashlight and held it so Jessica could lift the first pitcher. “Shouldn’t we do this in the bathroom?” the girl asked.

  “I don’t care if the bed’s wet.” Austin said. “Won’t bother me. Just do it.” He sounded like he wasn’t doing that well, which worried her as much as it made her agree with him. The bed was better than the floor if he passed out, which she figured was a possibility at this point. There was zero chance she’d be able to get him back on it if he was unconscious.

  Carefully Jessica tipped some of the water onto him. He flinched as she poured. She found he was right; the water that didn’t run off his torso drained down into the hole. And when she had him roll over a little so she could see, it was dribbling out the exit wounds.