by Maxey, Phil
“Lucas, these are good people. Maybe we can help each other to survive this Copeland person?”
Lucas ignored his wife and forced a smile for Carla and Joel. “I know where there are plenty of vehicles. I’ll take you there my—”
“Lucas!” shouted Lucy, trying to break her husband out of the spell he was under.
Carla and Joel looked awkwardly at each other and began to move towards the hallway.
“Err… thanks. I’m sure we’ll find our own vehicle,” said Joel.
He and Carla left the house and moved quickly across the sidewalk then the road to the first of the pickups.
On placing his hand on the pickup’s door handle he realized Donnie wasn’t around. He looked at Carla. “You seen Donnie?”
She shook her head.
He checked with the other soldiers and Shannon but got the same response. “Where the hell is he…” he said to himself. Just as he filled his lungs ready to shout the young man’s name, Donnie appeared from the same house Joel had just left and walked to the vehicles.
“Come on, we’re leaving,” said Joel.
Donnie remained motionless a few yards away.
“Donnie! We have to—” Joel realized the young man had things to say. “What is it?”
“I’ve already talked to the Mills… umm, Lucas and Lucy, and they said I can stay.”
Carla rolled her eyes while getting into her vehicle. Joel looked bemused. Shannon though was already getting out of the pickup.
“Donnie, you don’t know these people!” she said, walking to him while looking at the buildings which all seemed to be looking at her.
He moved his head to the side avoiding her glance, then back at her. “It’s not just about them being like me. Cos I know that’s why you think I want to stay. It’s also because they said they will take me to the farm. I can check up on Ma and Pa.”
Joel sighed. The young man was making sense. At least the kind you would have trouble arguing against.
Donnie looked into Shannon’s eyes. “Stay with me. I already asked Lucas. He said some humans are already staying here, and they’re safe, and…”
Shannon was already taking a few steps back towards the pickup. She finished the movement by shaking her head, then fully turned and returned to her back-seat position.
Donnie’s expression had already become resolute. He nodded as if agreeing something with himself, then turned and walked back to the Mills’.
CHAPTER TEN
Joel had spent the last hour glancing at his new passenger in the back seat. Gone was Donnie, in his place was a forty-plus-year-old rocker chick, complete with dark rings around her eyes and a studded leather jacket, with a ‘From hell’ sprayed across its back in red paint. After a quick consultation that Joel was not part of, she said that her group thought it was a good idea she would go with them to the human camp, to see for herself and learn more about the corporation. She also said it was only fair she go with them, seeing one of ‘yours’ is staying with us.
He couldn’t see any reason why not to let her come. So now they had a new passenger. Like for like.
Joel felt sorry for the young girl who was sitting next to Geri. The only time Joel had seen Shannon smile was when she was with Donnie, and now the mask of determined hate for the world and all that dwelt within had returned.
They were an hour past Minneapolis and the sun was heading towards the horizon. The pace had been slow due to the number of abandoned vehicles on the highway, some of which they had to nudge from their path.
In the motorhome, Evan had been observing subtle glances between his grandfather and Max. The two old-timers had gotten close, and he was glad Bill had someone other than himself who was over half a century younger to keep him company, but they were acting like two conspirators, with their written notes being passed back and forth, and it was getting irritating. The next time the convoy stopped and they could stretch their legs he would ask him what was going on.
Gas stations and shopping complexes were soon replaced with the green and brown leaves of forests and the occasional lake as they pushed further south.
In the SWAT vehicle, screams, claws, and growls kept flashing into Carla’s mind, each image producing a twitch across her arms and legs and making the steering wheel move more than it should. She kept shaking her head to bring her back to the here and now.
Finally, Bishop noticed. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Just… tired, that’s all. Haven’t slept much since… the battle.”
Bishop took in a large breath. “I keep thinking about being trapped in the other Walrus, with nothing between us and the vamps but half an inch of plating… if it weren’t for that weird device, we wouldn’t be here now.”
“Nope.” Carla wanted her subordinate to change the subject. Bishop went to talk again and Carla clicked on the radio. “Joel? Over.”
“I’m here, go ahead. Over.”
“We’re not going to make it to the camp before sundown, which will be at roughly six p.m. We should find somewhere for the night. Over.”
“I was thinking the same. Over.”
Carla placed her radio back on the dashboard.
“What do you think we’ll find when we get to the camp?” said Bishop.
This time new images pushed their way into Carla’s mind, these were of human devastation, buildings destroyed, and vamps picking over what remained.
“I don’t know, but we should be ready for anything.”
The next six hours were only interspersed by three small delays of a few vamps that happened to be on the highway. The convoy either drove over them or slowed enough to shoot them.
As the sun hovered on the horizon, being blocked by the occasional group of small trees, Bishop nudged Carla sleeping to her right.
“Hey, you awake? LT?”
Carla’s eyes flicked open and she sat up in one movement. “Where are we?” She looked around. “What time is it? Shit.” She picked up her radio. “Joel. We should stop for the night at the next town…”
“He’s sleeping but I think he would agree. Over,” said Anna.
Carla blinked and rubbed the crust from her eyes, trying to get some bearing on where the convoy was, but for tens of miles in every direction was just beige farmland.
“South-eastern Iowa… I think,” said Bishop.
“There! Take the next exit,” said Carla, pointing at the lonely looking green sign which announced ‘Exit 32.’
Bishop drove the heavy vehicle to the right and the convoy behind followed suit, moving onto a far bumpier road.
Soon they were all stopped at a junction, opposite of which sat a gas station and diner with accompanying small buildings.
“That’s perfect. Pull us into there, park at the back so everyone behind us has enough space as well to fit onto the lot.”
Bishop did as ordered, and soon the ‘Walrus’s’ engine was allowed to cool.
Carla jumped out onto the forecourt. She rubbed her arms together feeling the chill in the air. Despite the hours of sleep, her body still felt heavy. As the other vehicles pulled in, each trying to find a good spot, she looked at the white wooden homes a mile off behind, and on the other side of the road, opposite, a trailer park, complete with motorhomes nestled amongst trees.
She noticed Joel get out, stretching his arms. Walking to him, she observed the humans and hybrids that were emerging from the backs of trucks and pickups. “Looks like the hybrids are awake.”
Joel nodded.
“I think we should keep them separate from the humans.”
Joel paused for a moment before nodding again. “Probably for the best. I spotted some buildings behind the diner, maybe we can keep them in there.”
“In where?” shouted a tall man in a plaid shirt a few sizes too big for him.
Joel could immediately tell he wasn’t human, despite the gloom.
The tall man looked at some of the others that were milling around him. “We’ve been cooped
up inside these trucks all day, I ain’t being cooped up again just because you’re scared we’re going to eat the humans! And where is our blood? I’m getting thirsty.”
A few rumbles of agreement came from those around him.
“You’ll all get your blood. We got enough to last a few days still, so no one needs to get antsy about it.” Joel ignored his own pangs for the red stuff. “No one's going to be locked inside, or imprisoned, but I’m sure some of you here have human relatives with us, and you want them to be safe?”
It was a Hail Mary on Joel’s part, but from the nods from those behind the tall man, it appeared to do the trick. He pressed home his advantage and walked towards the side of the diner. “I could do with some of you helping me check out these buildings.”
The tall man frowned and joined three others following Joel.
*****
Marina sat on one of the diner’s red leather seats, Jess and Jasper to her right. Her head was rolled back, with her jacket propping it up, but she still wasn’t able to sleep. Cinders of hunger fizzled somewhere inside her, and the fact that the room she was in was full of possible solutions didn’t help.
At the table in front sat a family of four, all human. One of the young children, a boy of around eight, kept turning and sniggering in Jasper’s direction. In reply Jasper kept looking down, his sunglasses hiding most of his awkwardness.
Jess leaned closer to him. “Ignore him. He’s stupid.”
The boy turned again, this time pulling a face but was met with such a stone cold look of hatred from Jess that he quickly turned back to his family.
Marina smiled. It was a brief interlude from her own anxiety. She had no idea what the ‘camp’ was like they were heading towards. When she was traveling to the Canadian camp, there was hope. They had no idea what the corporation’s plans were. Now the world was an even darker place than it was before. Vamps were deadly but they were mindless killing machines. Like sharks. As long as you avoided them, you could survive. But Copeland had changed that. Now the vamps had a leader, sending them like a poison to kill off those that remained. She couldn’t help shake the feeling that nowhere was safe. Each day would be a continuous fight to remain alive. She just hoped she had the strength to defend the two youngsters sitting close to her.
He has to die…
She had heard Joel briefly talk about killing Jasper’s father, but unfortunately, she heard no plan of how to bring that about. She moved her head to the side and looked at Jasper.
Use his son to get to him…
She turned away in disgust at her own thoughts and immediately wondered if she would have had the same inclination if she were still one hundred percent human. It was a question she had no answer for.
She looked at the middle-aged woman sleeping opposite her. Mary had been a stalwart by her side, becoming the grandmother Jess and Jasper deserved. She was family. Ten or so yards away, Evan was having a discussion with his grandfather, but the other background noise blocked her attempts to listen in.
She rested her hand on the top of the plastic covered table. It was vibrating. She looked at Jess tapping the table and wondered if that was the source, but the trembling was constant, despite it being hardly noticeable.
She stretched out her fingers, laying her palm flat.
The slight juddering was still there.
She stood, peering over the side of the table at Flint. He was laid stretched out, not touching anything.
Earthquake? Does Iowa get earthquakes?
Shouts came from outside. Many in the diner looked out into the dark, not seeing anything, but Marina could see movement and then Joel.
The door to the diner swung open and he ran inside, extinguishing the nearest candle.
“Put the candles out, there are helicopters coming this way!” he shouted, rushing to the next.
As those inside put out the lights, Marina looked through the glass into the gray-black of the night sky for any specks of light.
The vibrations were now joined by sound, a distant deep thundering.
She reached out until her hand touched her daughter’s, which she grabbed. Jess was doing the same with Jasper.
In the absolute darkness, some inside the diner were crouching, while others tried to see where the repeating noise was coming from.
Joel crept along the checkered floor until he was level with Marina’s table. They could see each other clearly.
“Coming from the northwest,” he said.
“There!” shouted a man.
A light, brighter than the most brilliant star was growing in size.
They all sat in silence, but Joel and Marina could hear the hearts around them, almost as loud as the chopper passing overhead.
Glasses and bottles rattled on the tables, and then the sound started to decrease in volume.
The door to the diner opened once again, and Carla moved along the aisle almost bumping into Joel. “It was a troop carrier,” she said.
Joel got to his feet. “Did you see which direction it was heading?”
“Yeah, towards the camp…”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Joel sat inside his pickup, in the driver's seat. Outside, tired humans staggered back from the diner to their respective places in the vehicles, with only one flashlight to guide them in the darkness.
Joel looked again at the green glow of his radio’s LCD screen. The time was 4 a.m.
Still three hours to sun up, and then any convoy the size of theirs would be easily spotted from the sky.
The camp, if it was still there was still six hours away. They needed to be back on the road.
Carla and Anna were having a discussion near the diner entrance. Something was wrong.
He pushed his door open and jogged over to them. “What’s going on?”
“One of the humans is missing,” said Anna. “We left Westlands with forty, now we got thirty-nine.”
Joel swung around looking first out into the black void around them, and then at the vehicles, some of which now had engines idling.
“I can’t believe any of the hybrids would have been that dumb…”
“Are you sure?” said Carla. “I saw plenty looking at us like we were a Thanksgiving turkey.”
“There’s a difference between looking and… killing.” He looked across the road to the blocklike forms just visible. “Maybe someone wandered off. Over there maybe. Do we know who it was?”
Anna shook her head. “I… didn’t take names, just numbers… I think maybe one of the older people…” There was no need to see her face, the guilt was obvious in her voice.
“I’ll check—” said Carla.
“No, I’ll go,” interrupted Joel. “Give me ten. Keep the engines turned off while I’m gone though, no point wasting fuel, but be ready to leave as soon as I get back.”
Before Carla or Anna could protest, he sprinted off into the shadows, moving as fast as his sight would allow him to avoid objects in the complete blackness. He sped across the country lane and under a large wooden sign which stretched across the entrance to the trailer park.
A track ran in multiple directions, one of which ended at a wooden cabin. He ran to that first, stepping up onto the deck, and switched on his flashlight, pointing it through a hole where a window should have been. Inside were bodies stripped of flesh. Yellowing bones laid at wrong angles, glinting in his light’s beam, but they were old and were already crumbling.
“Is there anyone in here!” he shouted into the entrance lobby.
Silence replied.
He turned and looked at the boxlike shapes parked around the area. It was going to take a while to search them all.
Maybe someone is hiding? he thought as he stepped back onto the path and ran to the nearest motorhome. A creeping thought was shouting at the back of his mind. One which he was finding it harder to ignore as he finished searching inside the first vehicle and ran to the next.
Still, though, he pushed a rational explanation back into t
he front of his mind and pictured an elderly person walking slowly down the country road. Not a pleasant thought, but one he would have preferred to the…
A faint, but unmistakable metallic odor drifted past him. He was now onto the fifth out of maybe twelve motorhomes, and the smell of blood was definitely coming from the sixth. His heart sunk. By now he knew the smell of death but still clung onto the idea that maybe whoever it was inside the vehicle in front of him had just died of natural causes.
He pulled the latch across and opened the door, pulling it back slowly. The smell hit him in the face, making him waver slightly as he walked up the step and inside. He swung his flashlight around a scene of frenzied bloodletting. Streaks of red graffiti covered everything. The cupboard doors, the orange fabric seats, the walls, the ceiling… He walked through the narrow aisle being careful not to touch any of the red substance and pushed the final door open. On the bed was another body, but this one was a fresh kill. The blankets were dyed crimson, and lifeless eyes looked back at him from an elderly woman.
Despite the smell of the blood invading his senses, the scene made him queasy. This wasn’t just a kill for hunger. This person enjoyed the suffering which came first.
He staggered out of the confined space, slamming the door behind, thankful for the cool night air.
He looked across at the vehicles all waiting for him to return and wondered which one contained the hybrid psychopath.
He quickly made his way back. On entering the lot, he saw an older man wearing disheveled clothes arguing with Marina and Anna. As Joel neared them he feared what they were discussing.
“We have to find my wife!” shouted the man. His head flicked between the three of them.
The two women looked at Joel for answers.
“I couldn’t find her… and we need to leave.”
Horror added to the look of panic on the man's unshaven face. “What you mean ‘we need to leave?’ My wife, Allie is out there! We can’t just leave her!”