by Joe Kelly
“Look bitch, we helped collect it, so we are taking it.” Jerry was saying as Cole walked into the room.
“You’re not taking shit Jerry” Cole said angrily before Jerry could respond to his arrival. He didn’t like Jerry and it was no secret.
“Now those other folks can have two weeks worth of food.” Cole said pointing to Reba and the people clustered around her “But you, you didn’t do a damn thing to collect it; you haven’t done a thing to help around here. So you don’t get a damn thing to go with you.” Cole said, his tone was razor edged.
Jerry glared at him, but the skinny, dark haired wimp wasn’t usually one to push Cole.
“You can’t do that Ill starve.” Jerry whined.
“Apply for welfare if you find an open office.” Cole responded. Jerry glared at him for a long time.
“I’m going to take food, you don’t want to try to stop me Cole.” Jerry said his voice trembling with either anger or fear, neither particularly worried Cole.
“Jerry let me put it this way, if I catch you with food, Ill beat you unconscious, strip you naked shove a knife handle up your butt and toss you outside.” Cole said, his glare was much more intimidating than what Jerry had managed, and the once rich funds manager physically flinched away.
“Is he the one that talked you into Leaving” Cole asked the others, Reba nodded but her jaw was set, she had no intention of staying and from the looks of it neither did the others. “If you want to leave I won’t stop you. Two weeks’ worth of food, you can share with Mr. High and mighty here if you want to. But that’s it. Once you leave there will still be ninety people here and they need to eat too.”
“Thanks Cole, appreciate it, I really do” Reba said ignoring the spluttering Jerry. Reba was a bit on the short side, and like everyone else these days, fit as a fiddle as his grandma used to say. Her dark brown hair, was short and looked a bit ragged, consider all they had to cut hair with were knives and a pair of dull scissors that wasn’t surprising.
“Mind if I ask you why you people want to leave, this place is safe. Or at least safer than most anywhere else.” Cole asked his voice level, almost friendly sounding.
Reba, looked down for a moment, she knew Cole liked her. He had told her so on more than one occasion. She had said she liked him too but had been during their friends with benefits stage of survival. lately she had become distant, and it had all started when that one eyed clown Michael had arrived. “Can’t really say Cole, its just not right around here.” She said then paused as if searching for the words she needed.
“It’s the dreams.” Jenna said stepping up to stand beside Reba. Jenna had become Reba’s best friend over the months of living together she was tall, with dark red hair and had blue eyes which just seemed odd to Cole. She was, Cole liked to say, an amazon. She had run triathlons or the Iron man or something like that. She was one of the better fighters and survivors here
“Dreams?” Cole asked, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Of course Jenna believed in stuff like that.
“Dreams Cole, I told you about the first one and you laughed. But now some things different, it’s been different since you let that one-eyed guy into the place.” Reba said, he felt bad about laughing at her dreams, but on the face of it, it was stupid, like out of a movie or a bad horror novel. And there it was, the wedge that had driven them apart, Cole sighed with frustration, he hadn’t let Michael Carrington in, others had insisted. A popular vote had assured him entry and if Cole had tried to override the group on it, there would have been hell to pay.
Michael stuck in Cole’s craw sideways, and he couldn’t explain why any more than Reba could explain her dreams in a way that made any sense. There was just something about the guy and sometimes for just a second, he seemed to smell like one of the dead.
“I wish you’d stay Reba, but if you have to go I’ll miss you” Cole said after a moment.
“Cole, don’t trust him, not one inch. Something bad is going to happen with him around. I know it.” Reba said, hoping she could get him to believe that much. Cole stepped forward and gently kissed her on the forehead.
“Be safe Reba” Cole said softly then walked from the room. Oliver on his heels
“get down to the stock room and tell them that Jerry is not to be given any food. That SOB isn’t taking food that some of us died to get, while he sat back here stirring up trouble and not helping.” Cole stated as they reached the stairs. Oliver nodded and rushed down the stairs heading to the building that housed the Cafeteria.
Cole strode into the old office, with its huge old desk, paneling dark with age, and massive book shelf on one wall. He ignored all that and headed straight to the huge window behind the desk and looked out over the grounds of the old Asylum then to the thick walls that surrounded the place, where maybe two hundred zombies were attacking the gate in slow motion. He knew Reba would use the Tunnel to escape the place. It was the main route out if the zombies somehow got into the place. He silently wished her luck. The hospital was slowly emptying out, and no one came back once they left.
He saw through the window, Michael, if that really was his name, walking across the grounds heading to Ward one, his rifle slung across his back. Cole might have been a construction worker before the end came, but he had always liked weapons, and that was a Russian sniper rifle a Draganov or something like that. Not something you would normally see a person lugging around.
He frowned, dismissing his thoughts of the strange one eyed man, as he looked out over the compound, where once almost four hundred people had sheltered in the beginning now they were down to a little less than a hundred people. If this kept up, he would be back to the ten men he had started with. Well almost, Frank had shacked up with the former trophy wife of some rich guy who had been in NYC when the shit hit the fan. To be honest she wasn’t all that bad and she did seem to love Frank.
Cole really needed to make some plans for getting folks out of here fast if things went south and wishing wouldn’t change that there was always a chance something could go wrong.
He might have a hard time accepting Reba’s warnings based on dreams, but they dove tailed with his own gut feeling that something was off and was about to go as far south as the Border. He sat down at the old desk and began to write down ideas on the legal pad he kept there.
Chapter 18
The Black van idled in the middle of a four way stop in a town that few buildings and single traffic light. The sign as they entered town had proudly proclaimed it as Merrik population 105 people. It wasn’t even on the map. Merrik nestled in a wooded valley looked abandoned. No wrecks, no zombies, no broken into or burned down businesses.
It was easy to see how intact the businesses were since the entire down town area of Merrik was only ten buildings, four of them situated at the four-way intersection. Moore's gas, sat on the east side of the four-way, Moore’s Grocery sat on the north east side of the intersection, and Talbot’s Co Op sat on the north west side and an old building long abandoned sat across the street from the Co Op a faded sign read Connie’s Dairy mart above its door.
Jared climbed out of the van, and center slung his Commando. Keeping a wary eye out he walked across the intersection and checked out the grocery store thru the plate glass window the name of the store displayed in gold paint.
From what he could see, there was food on the shelves. He looked around frowning slightly. Not really worried about threats since team one was out and covering his back. He walked slowly across the street his boots thudding softly on the asphalt and peered into the gas station. The little convenience store side, which was no more than ten by eight, and had an old-fashioned soda cooler against the outside wall was empty. But the mechanics bay, was fully stocked and in order. At least what he could see thru the oval windows in the roll down doors.
He turned and eyed the old Texaco sign that was mounted over the canopy. The Letters were faded but legible, it was the winged horse logo that told him it was old. He hadn’t seen
one of those signs since he had been a kid.
He stood there for a moment, feeling nostalgic then got that old tingling sensation, like someone was watching him. It was a feeling he never dismissed because it was rarely wrong. Acting casually, he walked back to the van, considering the few facts available, no undead, no vehicles left abandoned on the road, food on the store shelves, and what they all told him was people still lived in this town.
“Mount up, we keep going” Jared said as he climbed back into the van. In moments all of team one was back in their vehicles and the convoy moving on. Maybe he could come back thru later and see how many people were still there.
“why leave?” Jill asked curious as to why they had left without searching the buildings and leaving possible supplies behind.
“I think people still live there” Jared replied. “I think they were watching us.”
Jill was quiet as she thought about it, Jared waited while she worked the idea around in her mind. There were any number or reasons survivors wouldn’t have come out to greet them or to warn them off. The upper most being, if the invaders don’t know you’re there they won’t come gunning for you. Or, he mused, it had been a trap designed to lure in strangers so that they could be killed, and their gear and supplies taken. Maybe the only reason who ever lived there hadn’t attacked was the sheer size of Jared’s group and the firepower they carried. Will probably never know, Jared decided.
“it was to neat, the town” She said after a moment. “No cars, no dead, no trash or anything else, like someone has been keeping the place up since the dead rose. A trap maybe” She said glancing at him for confirmation.
“Maybe, either way I suspect if we had entered one of those buildings the crap monkey would have started flinging.” Jared replied.
Even with the stop in Merrik they covered more miles than anticipated. They reached the next camp by midafternoon. Namely because there were fewer wrecks they had to clear on today’s highway. Jared knew a few people wanted to press on, but he didn’t want to have to alter his plans and try to find a new camp site that might or might not be clear and have to set up in the dark.
Team one swept the camp and the area around the camp, while the fishermen grabbed their gear and the canoes and hit the lake. Once the team finished their sweep, Ori, Jerry and Ryan grabbed the hunting rifles and hit the woods, while the rest of the group set up camp. Ronny landed in the lake a little while later.
This close to several small towns, and scattered farms, and a highway six miles away, they kept as quiet as possible. Only willing to risk gunfire for hunting. The only things offloaded were bare essential, nothing they couldn’t leave behind if needed. The hunting was bust; there were no signs of Deer or anything else in the woods. Which didn’t bode well in Jared’s mind. but the fisherman caught quite a few fish, they cooked enough for dinner that evening and the rest were cleaned and wrapped in plastic wrap and placed in freezers.
Jared sat at the table in his RV, his hand wrapped around a mug of Cider. “I think we need to hit a RV place,” he said eyeing his friends.
“Why?” Ronnie asked.
“Because they should have a few of the Propane or natural gas-powered freezers there, and hopefully some silent run generators to replace the noisy ass things in some of the RV’s. Not to mention spare parts, we will surely need sooner or later.” Jared replied, as he lifted the mug and cradled it in both hands eyeing the amber liquid as it sloshed around.
Every one of them agreed with stocking up on spare parts, anyone who doubted only had to look in the backs of their trucks, even before the zombies they had carried large number of spare parts for their truck, in case of a break down while off-roading.
. “But that means a large town or small city” Steve said thoughtfully.
“It does” Jared said agreeing.
“Which means we need to scout, make an ops plan, practice and then execute the plan, while expecting it to fall apart the moment we are boots down.” Steve added, not happy with the idea. There was silence for a while after that as everyone considered the plan.
It looked like Hendersonville was the next target, and there were potentially eight thousand or more zombies in there. To be honest Jared wasn’t as worried about that as the others. Unless things were really screwed up, he couldn’t see eight thousand plus zombies just hanging out at critical spots as a mob and doing nothing, waiting for a band of humans to be stupid enough to hit the very spot they were staying in. So far what Jared had seen, zombies tended to be spread all over a town or city. except when drawn by noise or chasing people.
Of course there was Ashville, He told himself, they are just standing around as one huge mob waiting for Meals on wheels, or foot for that matter.
Most of the people in the convoy wondered why they were heading south, and if they had asked Jared would have explained at length that heading east across North Carolina was intensely stupid. Too many heavily populated areas that they couldn’t avoid all together. South Carolina wasn’t as heavily populated before the dead and they wouldn’t have to work so hard to avoid large populations simply because there never had been one.
Hopefully by tomorrow they would be south of Asheville and safely camped at Summit airfield.
✽ ✽ ✽
Jared awoke to fire lit storm clouds; the Horizon was blood red as the sun rose. As they loaded their gear into the vehicles, a brisk wind kicked up off the lake. Ronny was anxious to get the plane up and away before the storm rolled in. But Roger the new guy stepped up and offered to fly backseat and instruct Ronny on how to fly in bad weather. Jared approved the idea and told Ronny to get airborne and heading south now before the storm actually hit.
They got the last few things loaded as the plane roared down the lake and took off droplets of water falling away behind it like a spray of diamonds. Jared climbed into the van thinking about how fast they adjusted to things. Just a week ago the thought of seeing much less having a plane was the most exciting thing they could have thought of. Now, it was old hat, oh sure it got the blood going. And got people a bit excited but not on the level it had at first. He started the Van and without a look back left the campsite.
The storm cut loose an hour later, lightening flickering across the sky, rain coming down in sheets cutting their vision down to feet in front of them. Occasionally they could make out dark shapes of buildings as they drove thru small towns. Every once in a while, a zombie would appear out of the rain. And Jared would only have time to brace himself before the van bounced over the walking corpse.
Soon the storm slacked off to a drizzle, allowing them to pick up speed once more. But lightening still cut across the sky in blazing jagged fingers that danced across the mountain faces and ridges at regular intervals.
The closer they got Asheville the worse the roads became. At one point they had to spend two hours moving wreckage and shooting zombies. They ended up taking a road that climbed up a ridge close to Black mountain, below they could see a large section of the city, the roads were dark with the undead but it was the section of the city that had been reduced to craters and rubble that really drew the eye.
Ronny hadn’t exaggerated when he said it had been bombed. Half the downtown buildings they could see from this distance were gone, what remained were skeletal frames with shattered glass, broken brick walls and twisted steel. But there were whole sections that looked intact. The rain only made it worse, it added to the gray desolate look of the city.
At their closest pass to the city, a meager five miles, they had to push wrecks out of the way with the Deuces. There were to many zombies on the highway to safely get out and winch the wrecks out of the way. Even running the undead over seemed pointless, for every one of the dead they ran down, ten more flowed onto the highway from the suburbs of the city.
Jill was biting her lips as hands pawed at the windows and sides of the van. Some leaving dark gooey looking smears that may or may not have once been blood, mixed with the rain. She couldn’t look out
the window or she would go nuts watching all the mouths opening and closing, the silent hisses and screams. The fact that most of the time the dead were silent made it even worse than the moaning.
It seemed endless, but in fact it only lasted two nerve racking hours. Before they got past the worst of the wrecks and were able to speed up once more leaving the lumbering hordes behind them. “God I don’t even want to think about what its actually like in a city” Jill said as they finally entered the state forest late that afternoon.
They wound up the tree shaded road, driving slowly, looking for fallen trees across the road or more deliberate blockages but found nothing to slow them down. Finally they turned and drove down a washed out gravel road and emerged in a long clearing. A long strip of concrete ran five hundred feet or more the east, down the center of the clearing. The camps buildings were spaced along the northern side of the old airstrip.