Текст книги "Vaccination"

Автор книги: Phillip Tomasso

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Fox News Reporter, Jeremy Thomas sat in front of a green screen. A helicopter’s view of Washington was displayed behind him. Chaos ensued on the White House grounds. Secret Service used automatic rifles to fire strings of shots at zombies.

“Recent reports indicate that the President is safe. While the nation’s capital is under attack, both the president and vice president have been taken to separate secure undisclosed locations. All branches of the military are working together to combat the common enemy. It is advised that everyone remain indoors until the situation is controlled. Phone lines are down. Cellular towers are working, but sporadically. The National Guard and all branches of the military have been deployed on US soil. Safe-compounds are being set up in the following states and cities. . .”

Static – white snow. The signal lost.

Josh banged the TV.

It was a flat screen. It did nothing to fix the picture. Instead, it wobbled on its base and fell forward.

“What the fuck, Josh,” Dave said. I couldn’t have said it any better.

Josh picked the set up. Set it back on the stand. The screen was not broken. White snow filled every bit of the 52 inches.

“Check through the channels again,” Allison said.

Josh had the remote pointed at the cable box, and was scrolling. “Nothing. We got nothing.”

At first, I thought it looked and sounded hopeless. I’ll admit the US military never entered my mind. They were a positive ray. If anyone could thin out the heard of zombies, those boys could. Would. It wouldn’t be easy, but they had the training and weapons.

“Where do you think these camps are?” Allison said.

“I’ll bet one is in D.C.,” Josh said. “Probably one somewhere in New York, too.”

“But we don’t know where,” I said. “Let’s look around. See if this couple had a transistor radio. My guess is they will. And batteries. That will at least give us some way of keeping a pulse on what’s happening.”

“It’s a good idea,” Josh said.

We scattered. The scavenger hunt had begun.

Then something exploded.

The house shook.

Allison screamed.

We all ran back into the living room.

“You okay?” I asked, looking at everyone.

“It came from outside,” Dave said, pointing at the picture window.

I peeked out. I couldn’t see anything. “I’m going out,” I said.

“We don’t know what that was,” Allison said.

“It’s why I have to check,” I said.

I had my shovel. “Lock this door as soon as you shut it, got it?”

She nodded. I didn’t believe her. “Dave, you make sure this door is locked once I’m outside.”

“You got it,” he said.

I stepped out onto the front step. Didn’t need to go much further to notice three things. There was no car in the driveway, and the house next door was on fire. Colorful flames licked at the afternoon sky. Heat rolled off the burning clapboard and hit me like a wave in the face and chest. Third, the loud boom from the explosion was bringing curious zombies out of the woodwork. They were still a ways off, but they were coming.

I turned, knocked on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Fuckin’, Dave, let me in!”

The door opened. I’d only just stepped outside. Josh said his brother was a bit slow, but this was a bit ridiculous. He might have saved my life last night, but I’d bet money he’d also be the cause of my death. “We have to get out of here.”

“What was it?” Josh held a plastic bag in his hands.

“House next door. Gone. Coulda been a natural gas leak. Which means, we’re not safe in here. Not anymore,” I said. “The gas lines run from house to house. No fire department is coming and RG&E isn’t going to shut the gas off, if you know what I mean.” I started toward the kitchen, and back door. They followed.

“What about the car?” Josh said.

“Isn’t one.”

“Where is it?” Dave asked.

I ignored him. “Zombies are coming back. The sound. It calls them. Noise does. So we have to be fast, and we have to be quiet. Shut the two-ways off.”

Josh and Allison switched off the radios.

“I don’t think staying close to the houses is going to be smart. Not right now. We need to put some distance between us.”

Another explosion, then two smaller ones rattled the walls of the house we were in.

“What was that?” Allison said.

“We have to move, now.”

In a line, me at the front, Allison behind me, followed by Dave and Josh, we moved like a snake towards the back of the yard. Going around front didn’t make sense, it was where I had seen the gathering of walking dead. Running through yards and jumping fences didn’t seem easy either, but right now, it was the only option I could think of.

The other explosion was another house. The two, side by side, were now fully engulfed. Black smoke rolled into the air. Inside the houses, white sparks and pops sounded. It was loud. The roar of the fire was deafening. Glass broke inside. Shattered. Sounded like ceilings caving, or staircases crumbling. Even at the edge of the yard, we could feel the heat. I don’t know how firemen run inside those things, wearing all that gear, and breathing into a tiny face mask.

“Over the fence?” Allison said.

“Yep. Over,” I said.

Dave went first. We handed him our garden tools. I hoisted Allison up and over next. Josh and I climbed at the same time.

We landed in the next yard. The in-ground pool was covered. Cinder blocks held the cover in place. A tiny two-person gazebo sat alone between the pool and the back patio. Nice place. Probably had a house full of zombies inside trying to figure out how to open a door.

“Keep moving,” I said. “This house could blow at any time.”

“Should we keep following the gas line? I mean, stay on Mt. Read, or should we cut back? Go toward the street behind this one. What is it?”

“True Hickory,” Allison said.

“We could. We just follow it, and cut through the bit of woods at the end. Wind up in the Tops Friendly Market parking lot,” I said. “Okay. Let’s do that.”

I wasn’t looking for a vote. We went kiddie-corner to the back fence, and repeated the jumping over process.

Once on the other side, we knelt in a huddled circle. “With all these trees, we’ve got some cover. We’re not as visible. Let’s try staying away from the house, away from noise, and keep back here. Think we’ll be able to move faster. Once we get to Tops, I’ll figure out what next,” I said.

No arguments. All three nodded.

Sneaking through the backyards under the cover of trees was completely different from walking on streets, or sidewalks, or close to houses. This just felt fucking creepy.

Most of the Maples had lost their leaves. Every step sounded like a gunshot when crunching down on dried out foliage, and I cringed. It couldn’t be as loud as I thought. But we were making noise as we made our way north toward the parking lot. Pines were full, and their branches would soon sport clumps of snow.

Thankfully, it was a chilly November morning – God, it was now November – but it was not snowing. The morning air had a bite to it. At this point, it felt invigorating. Got the blood pumping.

I held up a fist. Squatted low.

Allison bumped into me.

I looked at her, at my fist and rolled my eyes.

“Really?” I said.

Josh and Dave had stopped.

“What?” Allison looked at me, head cocked to one side. Her dog-face, I always called it. Confused puppy.

“The fist. See how I have it in the air? How I stopped?”

“I see it.”

“It means stop,” I said.

“What does?” she said.

“The fist. When I do this. It means stop.”

“Says who?” She looked at Josh for support, but Josh nodded in agreement. “You knew this?”

“Even I knew it,” Dave said, laughed – came out more as a chortle, with a pig-like snort at the end.

Josh drove an elbow into his brother’s gut. “You want to wake the dead?” He looked at me, half a smile.

Good attempt. Not funny. I ignored him. “You ever see a movie in your life, Alley? I mean, I know, remember we saw that Gulf War movie just like in July, or August? Remember when they were going in to attack the enemy and the squad leader did this, with his fist? And his whole platoon stopped. They just, they stopped?”

“You mean that two and half hour movie, the two seconds of film you’re referring to, do I remember it? No, Chase. You wanted to see that movie not me. I think I had my phone under my shirt and was on Twitter through most of it.”

Bang, zoom. Was all I could think. “Tell ya what. You see me hold up a fist, if any of us holds up a fist, if you, Alley, if you hold up a fist. We stop. We get low. We be quiet. Deal?”

“If you’d of said that before you became the squadron leader, we wouldn’t of had this terrible miscommunication. So why did we stop,” Allison said.

I looked forward. Looked around. “Shit.”

“Shit, what?” she said.

“I had something important to say.”

“But you don’t remember now?”

I gritted my teeth. Grounded them. “Let’s get to the parking lot.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

I held up a fist. Everyone stopped, was quiet.

“I remembered,” I said. “When we get to the parking lot, we’re not just going to cross it. We’re going to check it out, find the best way to move back out in the open.”

Allison gave me a look. She didn’t say it, but her eyes said, Duh.

“What’s that?” Dave pointed.

I followed that direction. Something was behind one of the pine trees. I clearly saw jeans and boots protruding.

“They could be dead,” I said.

The left leg moved.

We all flinched. “Shit. Okay. Dave, Josh, you guys go around to the left. Allison and I will approach straight on. Not a sound.”

The . . . forest . . . was thicker the closer we got to Tops. It was harder and harder to see the backs of houses on either our left or right. We were in the middle of the thicket.

Allison and I did the leapfrog thing again. Moving from tree to tree. We were extra careful about where we stepped. A snapped twig, a pile of crunchy leaves, and our stealthy converging would be blown.

Allison moved ahead of me. Stopped by a fat round Maple. She pressed her back to the tree. She held up a fist.

I waited.

She looked at me, brow furrowed. She waved me to her.

I walked as silently as possible.

“I did this,” she said, holding up her fist.

“I know. I stopped.”

“But I didn’t want you to stop back there. I wanted you up here.”

I pursed my lips. Hoped they looked like I was smiling and nodded. “What?”

“It’s a kid. A teenager. Doesn’t look like a zombie.”

I peeked around the tree we hid behind. I could see the kid. The teen. He now had his arms wrapped around knees pressed to his chest. He was shivering.

I looked, saw Josh and Dave. Held up a fist.

The fist was getting old.

They stopped though.

“They coming over here?” Allison asked.

“No,” I said. “They’re not.” Her head went to one side.

“What are we going to do?”

“Cover me. Just in case he attacks. Be ready.” I stepped away from the tree. I held my arms up, the shovel in one hand, blade down.

I took steps toward the large pine.

“Hey?” I said. “Hey, kid.”

He was alert. Might be cold, but he wasn’t sleeping. He jumped to his feet.

I hadn’t noticed the Glock earlier. He held it in both hands. The barrel aimed at me. From where I stood, about ten yards away, looked like a head shot for sure. I raised my hands higher. “We’re not zombies,” I said.

“What do you want?”

“We’re just passing through.”

The kid looked left, right, real fast like. If his peripheral vision focused on anything, I’d of been surprised. He was checking his surroundings, didn’t blame him.

Wish he didn’t have a gun pointed at me. “We just want to get past you. No trouble.”

“We? How many of you are there?”

I didn’t want to throw us all under the bus, nor did I want to throw Alley under there either. “Two,” I said. “My girlfriend. She’s hiding. Doesn’t like guns.”

“Tell her to come out. I want to see her. How do I know she doesn’t have a gun pointed at my head?”

“She doesn’t.”

“But I don’t know that, do I?” He had to be about sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Aside from his jeans and work boots, he had on a grey hoodie over a maroon Greece Cardinals Football shirt and jean jacket. He wore the hood. I couldn’t see his eyes. They were overcast in shadows. I couldn’t see much else, actually, beyond the front of the handgun pointed at me. “Put the shovel down, and have her come out.”

“I am not going to have her come out. She’s not a threat.”

“Put the shovel down.”

“Not going to do that, either kid. And stop yelling. Your voice is going to attract zombies, all right.”

“I’ll raise me voice and you can’t do shit about it.”

“I can’t,” I said. “Not from here. Not with you aiming your gun at me. But he can.”

“He can, who?”

“Behind you.”

The kid laughed. “I look like a fucking moron?”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt. We want nothing from you. We just want to pass by. But if you don’t lower the gun, you’re going to get hurt.”

“I’m not turning around. You’ll charge me.”

“From here?” I laughed, quietly, shook my head. “I don’t think so. But then again, I don’t need to charge you.”

“Oh, right. Because, ‘he’ is going to stop me,” he said.

“That’s right.”

“Why don’t you go f–”

Dave swung in a swooping arc the handle of the pitchfork. It slammed onto the kid’s forearm.

I worried the kid might misfire.

Instead, the Glock fell from his hand.

The kid screamed, cradled the limp wrist close to his body. “The fuck,” he said.

Josh tackled him. Threw a hand over the kid’s mouth.

Yeah. I’d lied to him about how many we were. But not about just wanting to pass by, not about not wanting anything from him. It didn’t have to go down this way. “Get up,” I said.

Josh pushed off the kid and stood up.

“You, too,” I said. “Up.”

He’d stopped yelling, but still clung to his hand. “He broke my wrist.”

“I don’t think so,” Dave said.

I knelt by the kid. “Let me see.”

He held out his arm. His hand dangled. His wrist was red, swollen. I felt around the bones. He winced.

“Might have,” I said.

“I’m right handed. What the hell am I supposed to do now?” the kid said. I helped him sit up.

“Why did you point a gun at us?” Allison knelt next to me.

“I don’t know who you guys are,” he said. Nothing tough about his voice. “I lost everyone. Those things, those zombies killed my parents and my little brother. I barely got out of the house. I tried to help them; I grabbed my dad’s gun out of the desk in his study. But he never kept it loaded. So I had to find the key to unlock the box in the closet that had the ammo. By then. . .”

The kid cried. Lowered his head to his knees and cried.

Allison touched his shoulder. He shrugged away her hand. She moved closer, sat beside him and wrapped an arm around him. He leaned into her, cried with his head against her chest.

I looked at Josh and Dave, who both stared at Allison and the kid.

I checked the Glock. Had 2 bullets in it. It was one of the newer clips, following the laws that made it illegal to have more than 5 bullets in a handgun. Five bullets would help about as much as the two in this one.

“You can come with us,” I said. “We can’t leave you alone. Not with a broken wrist. You’ll be defenseless. And this,” I set the gun down next to the kid. “This will not save you from much. Take down two zombies with head-shots if you’ve got awesome aim.”

The kid sniffled, lifted his head off my girlfriend’s breasts and drew the sleeve of his jean jacket under his nose. “Where are you guys going?”

Chapter Twenty-Five

The kid decided to join us. We were up to five, with me. I didn’t mind, but there were issues with growing. We’d be louder. We were more obvious. There was a chance for more bickering, head-butting, and arguments. It would be easier for one of them to slow us down. The kid was already injured. He had the Glock, with two shots left, but he wasn’t going to be able to swing a shovel, or baseball bat, or anything. As it was now, we didn’t just have to get past the Tops parking lot, we had to enter the grocery store. Allison wanted to splint the kid’s wrist.

I started to argue, but stopped. It was me that asked him to join us. I can’t then complain that we’ll help fix the broken bones we caused. It was his fault; I’m not apologizing for that. He had the gun trained on me. A splint was the least we could do. And the most.

“We’re going into the store. Those doors don’t lock. It’s open twenty-four hours. So there’s bound to be zombies inside,” I said, thinking of the mall.

“Parking lot looks clear,” Allison said.

We were huddled close together at the edge of the shallow woods. Thick brush kept us hidden. We had a clear view of the parking lot. A few cars were in an array of spaces. Allison was right, though. No sign of zombies. Didn’t mean they weren’t close. Best I could tell though, we had a straight shot for the entrance without hurdles.

Thing that came to mind was whether we should all go, or just two of us. Once inside, we could easily be challenged, and wind up trapped. Needless to get everyone killed. At the same time, I did not want to be killed. Seemed I was the only one with somewhere to be, somewhere to go. It was my idea to get a splint and gauze. I had to be one of those entering the store.

“I’m going to go,” I said. “I want you guys to wait here.”

“I’m going with you,” Allison said.

“Us, too,” Josh volunteered.

“I’m not staying out here alone,” the kid said.

“What’s your name,” I said.

“Me?” the kid pointed at himself. “Jay. Jason.”

“All right, Jay. We’re all going to stay close. Josh, I’ll take point. I want you to follow us, but stay outside the store. Looks clear enough. But if a big group of zombies comes this way, I want you to be able to warn us with enough time to get out of the store. Know what I mean? Watch our backs.”

Josh nodded.

“Allison, I want Jay behind me. You behind him. Dave, you follow Allison.” I scanned the parking lot again. Still looked good. “We are going to run close to the building, right through the automated doors. Good?”

We left cover and crossed the delivery road that led to the back of the grocery store. My eyes felt like they were seizing, looking everywhere all at once. Surprised I didn’t get dizzy.

I’d seen Zombieland. And while it was funny seeing the two main guys banjo-playing while checking a grocery store for Zingers, I was not enjoying myself. I knew the Tops layout. Knew the First Aid supplies would be near the M&T Bank, all the way to the left. Past the checkout stations, by the beer.

We reached the entrance. “You got us?”

Josh nodded. “Go, go.”

We went through the automated doors, into the foyer with the rows of metal shopping carts, and newspaper racks, we stopped. Quick pow-wow.

“If it looks safe, Alley, I want you to hit the school supply aisle. See if you can’t grab a couple of back backs. If we can load up on some essentials while we’re here, then we should.” I was staring into her eyes. They weren’t the same as before. I wouldn’t believe it, if I wasn’t seeing it. They’d hardened. Looked cold. She was a different, stronger person. I trusted her. She’d proven herself time and again.

“I’ll take Dave,” she said.

Was a good call.

“Kid, you come with me.”

“Jay,” he said.

“Whatever. Just stay close. Right behind me, and not a sound. Alley, you make as much noise as you have to if something goes wrong,” I said.

“Got it.”

“We’ll meet back at the first check out. The one closest to the exit. Okay? Turn your radio on, Alley. Just keep the volume low.” I switched mine on, as well.

“It’s for emergencies only,” Dave said.

“Right,” I said, “let’s be quick about this.”

Around the corner was the huge shopping center. Produce and meats to the right. General groceries and seasonal items straight ahead. Frozen foods, refrigerated items and beverages, pet supplies, snacks, paper goods, health and beauty, and First Aid stuff to the left.

It was hard not to imagine shopping as a family. When the kids were little, my ex and I shopped together. Actually looked forward to it. The kids acted like they were at Disney World. We’d stop at the bakery first. Pass up food we planned to buy, in order to get to the bakery. Charlene and Cash wanted their free cookie. There was a Tupperware container by the loafs of fresh baked bread. It contained cookies for kids under 12. The Cookie Club. Not to start there would have been devastating to toddlers. While I was a bit older than 12, I considered myself an honorary Cookie Club member. Used to make the ex laugh when I’d say, “One for you. And one for you, and one for me.”

Even the kids laughed.

They knew I wasn’t supposed to get a cookie. Silly, Daddy.

Once the cookies were distributed, the shopping began. See, it was easier and cheaper giving the kids a free cookie to munch on. For us at the time, anyway. The kids were distracted, and happy. They weren’t pointing at high priced items on the shelves. The ex and I could actually buy what needed buying. And only what needed buying. Usually.

I shook my head. No time for memories. They didn’t help. They clouded judgment. I needed to be clear. Ready.

“You good?” Allison said.

“I am. You ready?”

“All set.”

We had a lot of ground to cover, with no idea what to expect. I didn’t like it, and therefore, I did not have a good feeling about this. Not at all.

“Stay close,” I whispered. The kid was practically up my ass. He breathed heavy. Uneven breaths. I knew he was scared. We all were. I think he felt especially vulnerable. A broken wrist will do that in a situation like that. He had his gun. It was just going to offer very limited resources if we ran into monsters. Way I felt, there was no way around it. No way was this store empty of those things.

Part of me expected to see long lines, customers unloading groceries onto black conveyors and cashiers sliding bar codes over laser readers before bagging the items. None of that existed. Might never exist again. I used to consider the process slow and chaotic. Never realized how organized a method it really was until now, with it gone. All gone.

We snuck past the scratch off Lottery dispenser machine, and customer service desk. I didn’t see or hear anyone else in the store. Not even Allison or Dave. I was thankful Josh was in front as lookout. The closer we got to the bank, the better I started to feel. There might be a chance we could pull this off without incident.

At the last register, I squatted. The kid did, too.

“What?” he said.

I shook my head, tried to swallow. My mouth was dry. “You want to wait here? I can see the first aid stuff,” I said, pointing toward the aisle. “I’ll be quick.”

“I’m coming,” is what he said. His eyes shouted, “ain’t no way you’re leaving me the fuck alone.”

“We’re going to be fast, grab the stuff, then look for the others. You be my eyes while I get everything. Okay?”

“I can do that,” he said.

I nodded, not a hundred percent convinced. I was at a point where I trusted myself. No one else.

The plastic bags were hanging by the edge of the conveyor. I took a few. Allison was going to try to locate a backpack, but she wasn’t with us, so for now, I’d fill these.

We stayed low, bent forward as we walked the length of the conveyor toward the front of the check-out. I looked both ways, amazed not a soul was in sight, alive or otherwise. The place was a goldmine. Forget the produce and meat that would go bad soon, it was the packaged items that would last years that sat stocked on the shelves that had me excited. Figure out a way to keep the sliding doors shut, clear the place of any zombies, and we had a safe haven that might just last until the epidemic was put under control. Assuming it ever would be.

We made a dash for the health aisle. Didn’t need to, no one was around. Once in the aisle, I snapped open a bag. I first grabbed bandages, alcohol, ointments and hydrogen peroxide. Then it became a free-for-all. Aspirin, Benadryl, cough syrup and anything else that looked helpful. I filled two bags before I stopped and listened.

“What was that?”

The kid’s eyes were wide open. He stared down the aisle toward the beer coolers. “A ball. It just bounced by the–”

A small child ran after the ball. Arms out.

“What the fuck,” I said and held my finger up to my lips to shush myself.

“She look sick? Like a zombie?”

“Couldn’t tell,” I whispered. “We’re out of here. We have what we came for.”

“But if she’s not a zombie, how can we leave her?”

The ball bounced by again, going the opposite way. We waited. A second later, we heard a laugh, a giggle really, and the child ran past the aisle toward the ball.

“We’re out of here,” I said again. My heart thumped around inside my chest. I was officially freaked out. This was like something in a horror movie. Life was, actually, but this – the child running back and forth, it was too much.

“We have to see. If she’s alone, she’s got to be scared.”

“I’m scared. I’m leaving,” I said, and turned.

At the edge of aisle, I snuck a peak right and left. Still no one. “Let’s go,” I said.

Nothing.

“Kid,” I said.

I turned. He wasn’t up my ass. He was halfway down the aisle, as if he were going to investigate the condition of the child.