A Broken World (Book 2): Shattered Paradise

by Lauck, Andrew

  The trucks smashed through the three zombies in my view, ripping them off their feet with an audible thump that filled the air, blood splashing across the windows of the massive vehicles as the bodies dropped. More thumps echoed through the intersection, confirming my reason for hesitation, but eventually I heard the sound of the engines begin to fade. After the trucks crossed the intersection and headed further into the town or city I was in, I could distinctly hear someone cheering with an inaudible war cry in the distance.

  I know I was out for a while, but what the hell did I wake up to? Had things really changed that much, or was I just on the “normal” side of the fence, whatever that meant anymore?

  Looking down both sides of the street, observing the red dusting over the snow and what looked like raw hamburger left in the wake of the trucks, I crossed the road faster than the chicken probably ever did, as I wasn’t sure the drivers wouldn’t return. Standing outside of the gas station, I tried to see inside by cupping my hands over the foggy glass. I wasn’t able to make out much, but I didn’t see any movement inside and the selection of supplies looked promising.

  Of course, as I got to the front door, I recalled the last time I was at a gas station and wondered if my luck would be the same.

  Chapter 54

  Unknown Date +7

  Unknown Location

  As much as it pains me to say it, even in an apocalypse, I still made the rare mistake of pulling on a push door. In my defense, the doors were locked, so I’m not sure if it counts. Either way, though, I took out my frustration by smashing the glass with the butt of my Sig before reaching in and unlocking the doors. I hesitated to go in, choosing to wait and watch for the zombies that every horror film for the last decade had told me would come out of the woodwork at the sound.

  Once again, reality won, as nothing happened and I was just standing outside of a gas station looking like an idiot. Pushing the doors in, the first thing I did was sweep the interior to make sure I was alone. Call me paranoid, but I’d rather be safe than…well, dead. Again.

  Too soon for jokes?

  The inside of the gas station was secure, so I holstered my weapon and went to the food section. Having spent a week in that warehouse, my supplies were low on all fronts so I had to take precautions and scavenge whenever I could now. In this case, if that meant I was reduced to the college diet of dry ramen noodles and water, I’d suck it up and deal.

  I grabbed a few packs of ramen noodles and the two cans of beef stew that hadn’t been taken by someone else, stuffing them into my bag. Finding no bottles of water or boots better suited to the weather, I then went to the snack section and took the beef jerky that was left, as it lasted forever. Walking toward the front, I couldn’t help myself and picked up a Twinkie as an homage to my favorite zombie film. Admittedly, it had been a long time since I’d had one.

  With a mouthful of golden deliciousness, I made sure to add a few lighters to my collection of goods. Hanging above the counter were several stuffed animals, so I pulled down a little turtle and put it in the outside pocket of my pack, for when I found Kat. Maybe I was getting sentimental in my old age. Lastly, I looked around until I found the most important reason for my stop and opened up the map of Indiana.

  Just as I was about to walk back outside, though, I heard distant yelling that was rapidly drawing closer and shoved the map into my back pocket. Quickly going through my options, I ran to the back of the store and ducked behind the last aisle. The back exit was to my left, but I didn’t want to risk going through it only to find out the trucks chose a different road on their return trip.

  I heard the trucks come to a stop nearby, probably sitting idle in the intersection while they debated where to go next. Snow crunched loudly and heavy footfalls approached the gas station entrance, so I readied myself to go through the back door.

  “Hey, someone’s been here!”

  “Check it out.” I heard the sound of an AR-15 being chambered, the safety clicked off, and the door pushed over broken glass. Two sets of boots stepped over the glass, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before two men rounded the corner of my aisle. The question was, would they try to kill me and take my stuff, or were they just having fun killing zombies and wanted to find more survivors?

  “That’s close enough!” I barked, startling them. “What are you here for?”

  “Oh, we probably want the same thing you do. We’re just out here trying to make friends.” One of them chuckled and I heard boots crunch softly toward the opposite end of the aisle.

  “Well, friend, for a few weeks I let myself believe in something more, because of someone I had with me, but before that, I lived by a few basic rules of survival. And do you know what my first rule was?”

  The footsteps were nearing the back wall.

  “No, enlighten me, stranger.”

  “Trust no one.” I angled my Sig around the corner and blind-fired, pulling the trigger three times and riding the barrel higher. I ran through the back door as gunfire filled the convenience store and tore up the door behind me. I must have landed at least one shot, because the man that had been talking to me was screaming bloody murder as his buddy called for help.

  Of course, I had no clue where the hell I was and it wouldn’t be long before the trucks rolled out after me, so I picked a direction and ran. I made it about a block away before I heard the engines roar over the deathly silence of the town.

  At the back of a building on my right I spotted a ladder, so I sprinted and reached the base rung by the time the trucks neared my position. Climbing quickly, my hands slipping off the icy rungs a few times, I rolled my body onto the rooftop and stopped moving, hoping the truckers wouldn’t look too closely and notice the footprints in the snow. The seconds dragged on as the engines powered down and I heard them talking to each other.

  “Where the hell did he go?”

  “I don’t know, he could’ve gone anywhere. We’ve gotta get Tommy back to camp and have the doc take a look at him, though.” Someone grunted an approval and I heard a frustrated sigh.

  “Look, we’ll make sure Tommy’s okay, regroup, and then hunt this fucker down, okay? I just don’t want to lose someone else because we’re too busy tracking this guy.”

  “I’m with that plan.” That must have been Tommy, because there was definite pain in his statement. Time wore on for another minute, with only the cold breeze howling through my clothes, chilling me to the bone.

  “Alright, let’s roll out!” The trucks started up and did a U-turn in the street before heading away, leaving me alone once again. I climbed back down the ladder and checked to make sure they were all gone before moving toward a house across the street.

  The door was barely hanging onto the rusted hinges, clinging on for dear life just like everyone left in this world, and a piece of wood pried off when I opened it. My footsteps sunk on the rotted floorboards, alerting anyone that may have been inside of my presence. I kept my Sig in my hand as I checked the entire house. With the house empty and no supplies to take, I cleared a few things off of the kitchen table and pulled out the map of Indiana.

  I identified Cedar Lake and Crown Point, the memories flashing back to me in a wave. Looking at the map, I tried to figure out the route that Mills might have led everyone. I traced my finger down along backroads and, knowing she would have also avoided major populations, narrowed my location down to a few towns depending on which direction they headed. It was impossible to tell unless she left me a clue to find, so I folded up the map and stuck it back in my pocket.

  Turning to leave, I could have sworn I saw movement down the hallway.

  “Hello?” I called out, remembering that zombies wouldn’t answer me either way. I advanced slowly down the hallway, hearing floorboards creak overhead as I walked. Reaching the foot of the stairs, I reached into my pack and pulled out a lighter, holding it in my off-hand while keeping my Sig level.

  As I made my way up the stairs, I heard a door to the left of the staircase
open and peered around the corner, keeping my body mostly protected in case this was one of the truck members with a gun. Still nothing, though. With the hair standing up on the back of my neck, I moved up to the door and nudged it open with my foot.

  The door slid open to reveal what I can assume was a nursery, with the wood of the crib withered and splintered. Laying inside was a blanket draped over a small figure, but before I pulled back the blanket, the sunlight through the window shifted in the room and something caught my eye. On the wall above the crib, carved into the wood paneling, was a single line that shook me to my core.

  You Left Us To Die.

  I backed up until I hit the door and shuffled into the hall, more fumbling than walking down the stairs, and pushed through the door until the cold air outside hit me and cleared my head. With my chest heaving and feeling beyond creeped out, I glanced back at the house and expected someone to be staring at me from the window or a handprint or anything that horror films had convinced me would be there, but I was alone with only my thoughts to keep me company.

  Beginning to question my sanity, as this was the second hallucination in a few days, I holstered my Sig and started walking down the road that Jessica likely took. Thankfully, it was in the opposite direction that the trucks drove off in.

  Chapter 55

  Unknown Date +7

  Still unknown location

  I had been walking for about an hour, circling around a lake that had iced over long before I was there, when the first frozen drop touched my face. Looking skyward, clouds had converged overhead and I knew I needed to either find a shelter or build one quickly. While the stubborn man in me wanted to brave the storm and shrug off the cold, I knew sickness would be just as dangerous as a broken leg out here, so I started scanning my surroundings for a suitable location.

  During my walk, after leaving that town, I hadn’t encountered much scenery besides fields of white. A few nondescript buildings that were left in ruin, the crossbeams falling apart and the wood rotted through. Knowing that, I didn’t have much hope of finding a building that wouldn’t collapse on top of me while I waited out the storm.

  I pressed on, making slow progress for another fifteen minutes while the sleeting rain picked up, before I saw something in the distance that gave my heart a flutter of hope. Being careful to watch my footing as much as possible, I trudged through the snow in a miserable jog and made it to a vehicle pulled off to the side of the road.

  Near the truck, I could make out traces of footprints in the snow and, while visibility had gone to shit, I glanced around cautiously. Hearing nothing above the howling wind and the thick rain, I brushed my hand over the driver-side window and almost had a heart attack when a zombie inside smacked the glass from the inside.

  The handle was locked and, after checking, the passenger side had similar results. In the bed of the truck were a few covered tubs with a tarp draped over them. Knowing the longer I was exposed to the weather, the more likely I was to get sick, or worse, I brought up my Sig and smashed the passenger-side window.

  The driver, with a few glass shards now embedded in its face, dove for the opening, it’s torso half-crawling, half-slithering over the door frame, before plopping itself into the snow. I waited for it to rise, the body mostly intact from being inside the car and not exposed to the elements for so long, before squeezing the trigger and giving the nearby snow a splash of new paint. Using my Ka-bar, I cut the ties on the tarp in the back before reaching inside the passenger door and unlocking the truck.

  Setting my backpack on the floorboard, I got in and pulled the door shut behind me. After some uncomfortable shifting, I stuffed the folded tarp into the opening left by the broken window and managed to keep the rain out, with only a few drops creeping in. The makeshift seal would do until the storm passed and I could continue on.

  While the rain pounded down outside, undoubtedly making my trip that much harder when it froze and added to the snow on the ground, I remembered how many times something bad had happened when it rained before, whether it was the ambush at the farm or the encounter with Schafer. I’m not one to be paranoid, but keeping my head on a swivel was definitely in the cards.

  Still, that didn’t keep me from being hungry, so I reached in the pack and pulled out one of the cans of beef stew. I didn’t want to risk using the Ka-bar, as it had been plunged in a number of zombie skulls and I refused to be infected by way of my stomach, so I scavenged through the interior of the truck and found a key in the glove compartment. It would be slow work, but I was in no hurry.

  After sterilizing it with one of the lighters from the gas station, and several minutes of using the teeth of the key to create an opening to pry open the can, I was able to enjoy a decent early dinner and take stock. I could have used the key that still rested comfortably in the ignition, but I didn’t want to risk mangling the metal with my lighter in the off-chance that the vehicle still worked. As it turned out, the engine was too frozen to start, the starter refusing to even budge. Ignoring my misfortune, I lifted up my shirt and examined my gunshot wound. The stitches hadn’t completely dissolved yet, but a neat scar was definitely forming to remind me that death and I had almost become eternal besties.

  Having finished the beef stew and slipping the key into my pocket, I lay down in the seat and took a short nap, allowing my brain an hour to rest.

  When I opened my eyes, the rain had dulled to a light drizzle and I could see more than twenty feet in any direction. My first attempt to sit up resulted in pain, reminding me that I was getting too old to sleep in a vehicle, but I eventually eased my way to a sitting position. Looking out from the truck, I noted that the snow had gained another few inches and would suck even more to walk through. Stepping outside, I checked the bed and rummaged through the tubs. No opportunity would be lost until I had restocked my supplies.

  It was a good thing I did, though, because the truck driver had some good taste. I found a few more cans of stew or soup, four protein bars, and a box of 9mm rounds. His gun was nowhere in sight, even after shuffling enough snow away to check the body, and his boots weren’t the right size, but I considered it a good day.

  I was hesitant to continue in the direction of the driver’s footprints, but, still having no idea where the hell I was, I figured my best option was to walk in a straight line until I reached a city line. Strapping on my pack and preparing to set out, I noticed something that the rain and snow had concealed.

  A billboard, short to the ground, advertising some restaurant chain, had graffiti sprayed over it, a warning to travelers. Whether it had been written by an unfortunate victim, or the men themselves, the message was clear.

  Stay off the road.

  Chapter 56

  Unknown Date +7

  Lost as shit

  You would think that, as many signs and lights as there were before zombies, it wouldn’t be that hard to find one damn indication as to where I was at, but that was the case for me. The rain was still coming down, but I had smartly remembered to grab the tarp and thrown it over myself, securing it with one of my shoelaces. With the socks still wrapped over the outside of my shoes, losing a shoelace wouldn’t make it too loose to be uncomfortable. Of course, comfort hadn’t been in my vocabulary for a long time now, since I was still lacking proper footwear for this weather.

  The warning on that billboard still nagged at me, since the only way I could know I was moving in a straight line was to stay near the road, but that might be tempting fate. There were woods nearby, but the danger of walking in the woods is that even an experienced hiker can subconsciously angle their path based on the dominant hand they use. Needless to say, if I veered left for too long, I might end up even more lost than I already was. I compromised and stayed on the edge of the wooded area, walking close enough to keep the road in my vision without exposing myself too much in case the trucks came after me.

  That had been my idea for the last hour, but new problems were arising by the minute and darkness was rapidly
approaching as the sun lowered on the horizon. My shoes were soaked, the mud would mean I was leaving tracks behind, and I had to decide whether it was worth the risk to move down to the road.

  The answer was made for me, as I saw movement in the woods to my left and knew I wasn’t alone. Based on the swaying, lazy walk, I knew they were zombies, so, to avoid tripping over the exposed root of a tree and landing in the jaws of a zombie lucky enough to get a bite out of my ass, I stepped down the rise onto the pavement.

  Months of paranoia caused me to continually glance behind me, but I tried my best to ignore the hair standing up on the back of my neck, as that was probably just the cold. I had no idea how far away the camp was that the truckers had mentioned, or how long it would be before they picked up my trail, so I increased my pace. Of course, I was already starting to feel the effects of the weather on my body, so I made sure to rub my chest and make a fist every few minutes to keep the blood flowing in my arms.

  The sun was dipping low and it was becoming harder to see, but I wasn’t in a good position to stop anywhere, as there was nowhere to hole up for the night and I wasn’t going to get lucky with a random vehicle twice in one day. I withdrew one of the lighters I had gotten from the gas station and slid it into my pocket, just in case. It wouldn’t provide much ambient lighting, especially in the open like this, but I still wanted to have a light source easily accessible.

  I’m not sure how long I’d been walking, but the sun was down, and I was left in the cold rain, alone, surrounded by darkness, with only my thoughts to keep me company. Lucky me. I decided against walking blindly into the night, as not only would I drive myself insane but I could easily step into a hole or slide into a ditch by accident. An ankle or leg injury would spell disaster, and likely death, so I needed to play it safe.