23 Hours (2 page)

The sun had risen way too far above the horizon by the time we emerged from the trees. I felt a bit exposed but the infected seemed to be more active at night so I decided it might not be a bad thing. And besides, time really wasn’t on our side so I sucked it up and started walking anyways. The dirt fields and gravel roads were less than ideal, especially with the kid bouncing on my back with every uneven step. Still, I continued going.

There was no one else around, infected or not, by the time we made it to the main road but I didn’t want to take a chance so we kept heading west, crossing a couple fields before we finally hit the train tracks. The tracks ran parallel to the main road for several miles and were flanked by trees and shrubbery. My shoes were worn through so my feet and legs would have preferred a paved surface, but the tracks were prowled less often by those creatures so it was a no brainer.

Walking along the tracks was almost tranquil after that morning’s excitement. The road was far enough away and there were enough trees between that I couldn’t hear any vehicles, not that there’d be much traffic anyway. Gasoline and diesel were both in short supply and worth a small fortune. And cars might have been faster, but they didn’t offer much protection from the infected, they could rip through the sheet metal like it was paper. Unless you invested heavily in armor, driving a car just made it easier for them to hear you coming, so no one used them much. These days people preferred stealth to speed.

Unfortunately all the peace and quiet of the tracks started to put me on edge. I should have just tried to enjoy it but the animals seemed to know when one of those creatures was around even before I did. Had I seen a squirrel or a single bird I might have been able to relax, but their absence usually meant very bad things.

As we rounded the bend I heard a little rustling off to the west so I decided to check it out. A small critter would be a good sign; something larger would be even better, I could have really used some fresh meat; Ned would pay top dollar for something to put in his stew besides rat. I don’t know if it was the virus starting to hit me or if it had just been that long since I’d eaten, but even the thought of Ned's stew didn't sound too bad. Hell, just the thought of a plump rabbit or squirrel sent my mouth watering. A deer probably would have sent me into shock.

I tried not getting my hopes up, I knew the chance of catching any game was slim, but no matter what I was expecting, I was not prepared for what I saw as I peeked around that tree. Right there in the middle of a small clearing was an elderly woman crouched over a stroller. It couldn’t have been easy getting that thing all the way back there, and I could have thought of a hundred better ways to transport a baby, but she seemed harmless enough... at least until she turned to stare at me with those empty eye sockets.

“Damn,” I growled as I set the kid down and stepped from behind the tree. Half of the old woman’s face was gone, as was the left side of her torso. The remaining muscles showing through the large tears in her billowing muumuu would have been impressive on a woman half her age, but on her it was just disturbing. She wasn’t completely hulked out yet so she couldn’t have been infected more than a day or two ago, but that didn’t make her any less dangerous.

I moved a little closer, mainly to distance myself from the boy and to give myself more room to swing Excalibur. She continued to stare in my direction for a moment, seemingly unsure whether she should leave the stroller. The blood around her mouth made me really not want to look in there, but at that point the stroller was the least of my worries. With a terrifying roar she leapt at me and I barely managed to dive out of the way before she slammed into the tree uncomfortably close to where I had left the kid.

“Hey,” I yelled trying to keep her focus on me. Thankfully it seemed to work; she immediately spun around and concentrated fully on me. She didn’t seem to fear Excalibur so I decided to teach her a lesson. With a roar that was a pitiful imitation of hers, I charged straight at her and for a second it worked, I actually saw the shock on her face, just before she roared and rushed right back at me.

That old bitch wasn’t nearly as big as Willie had been, but she was a hell of a lot quicker, slamming into me before I could even think of swinging my blade. And thanks to my ineptitude I once again lost it.

My anger flared, partially at that creature and partially at myself. If I failed then I had managed to keep that boy alive, only to provide him to this old woman as a snack and that thought pissed me off.

On my back and unable to think of anything better, I threw my legs up trapping her head and one of her arms in a triangle choke. I’d seen the move done a few times in MMA but had no training so I was quite impressed with myself. Unfortunately the triangle choke is meant to constrict the blood flow from the carotid arteries to the brain so it had absolutely no affect on her other than putting my crotch dangerously close to her mouth; a thought that hit me a moment too late. Just as she opened her mouth I released the hold and managed to roll to the right, so thankfully she only got a mouthful of my thigh but it still hurt like hell as she sunk her teeth in. Instinctively I brought my knee up, jamming her nose through her skull. Some of the pus sprayed across my jeans which pissed me off even more, so I decided to just let my anger flow.

As she stumbled backwards across the clearing I ran and grabbed Excalibur from where it had fallen, then it was my turn to growl. The old bitch barely had time to raise her head before I tackled her, slamming her down and then moving to straddle her chest and pin her arms to the ground with my knees. Even though I had Excalibur in my hand I decided to take out all my anger and frustration by beating her face with my fist until I was sure most of her teeth had been broken. Feeling somewhat vindicated, I jumped to my feet and took her head with one swipe of the blade.

I backed up as her body flailed about. The pus flew from her open neck, barely missing my worn out shoes. As I jumped back, I saw a slight movement out of the corner of my eye.

“No,” I yelled as the boy neared the stroller. I hadn’t meant to yell quite like that, and half expected him to break into tears, but he didn’t cry; he didn’t seem even the slightest bit fazed. Instead he just stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me.

I moved to him and could see he was still fine, well as fine as he had been, and I could have just picked him up and walked away but as much as I wanted to do just that, there was one last thing I had to do.

“Stay here,” I told him before taking the last couple steps towards the carriage. I tried to steel myself for what I was about to see, but as I peered inside I realized nothing could have prepared me for that. The old woman had went to town on the poor little thing, chewing through half its torso and even into it’s skull. Those wounds were bad enough, but the virus seemed to be attacking the infant even quicker than it did an adult. I wasn’t sure how long ago she had started on it, but already the virus had taken one of its eyes.

As the little thing started squirming, staring up at me with its one milky eye, I was tempted to turn and run, but the old woman’s body flopping one last time reminded me exactly what I had to do. Excalibur easily sliced through the tiny neck and the stroller at the same time. Now I’d killed many infected, but that time I had to turn away before I could see the death flail; that was one sight I didn’t want etched into my brain.

If the boy knew what had just happened, it didn’t seem to bother him. I wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or concerned about that. But at that point it didn’t really matter so I cleaned off my blade, picked up the boy and then continued back down the train tracks in hopes of making the Town before dusk.

Chapter 3

Several miles passed without incident, and the typical noises of nature returned, but as the sun continued to travel across the sky I realized that the little diversion with the old woman had messed with my schedule and thanks to Willie’s watch I knew exactly how much time it had cost us. Even though the bite on my leg was killing me, I tried to channel my anger into energizing my walk. Pushing myself harder than I probably should have, I found the miles passed quickly. The kid and I made it to the Town just before five. I had really wanted to be there and gone by that time but there was nothing I could do about that. Thankfully, though, the crowd of degenerates looking for a chance to escape into blissful debauchery hadn’t arrived yet.

At one point I had been one of the regulars and the guards knew knew me well but regular or not, they still wanted to know you’d be buying something before they’d let you in, so I pulled out a couple forks and spoons before we even reached the gate. I made sure they were decent ones, nice enough to impress them but definitely not the best I had. You start flashing around too many nice pieces and you get a reputation that could get you killed. Upon seeing the pieces the sentry waved us on through without a second look; it really was all about the silverware.

We moved through a large roll up door leading into a garage filled with decommissioned military trucks. Everyone knew of Big Mike’s collection; it was his pride and joy but he’d sell any of them for the right price. Hell, he’d sell his left nut for the right price. It was hard to say if any of the trucks ran or even had gas, but I couldn’t afford one even if they did, so I quickly moved on, heading straight to Ned’s to get us a little food. The boy hadn’t said a word about food since that morning, but I knew he had to be starving. I didn’t know what they might have for him, hotdogs and PB&J were in short supply, but I was sure Ned would have something.

Stepping through the double doors I saw that Ned’s was just as dirty as I had remembered it, with grease covering every surface. Thankfully, though, it was nearly empty so we had a chance at getting in and out quickly. Ned shot me a look as soon as we sat down at the bar. I wasn’t sure if it was shock, confusion, anger or just disgust but he grabbed a cold bottle of beer and headed straight for me.

“The usual?” He asked, popping the top before I could even answer.

“Well, that’ll be a start,” I replied. “What’ve you got for the kid?”

“I knew that thing in your pants would get you in trouble one day,” he said pulling out a water bottle and setting it down in front of the boy. “Which one was it?”

“He’s not mine, Ned. I’m just helping out, trying to get him to the hospital and get him fixed up. But right now we’re starving.”

“You know foods not cheap and I don’t do tabs,” he said.

“Don’t worry,” I replied as I reached into my bag and pulled out the spleen I had harvested that morning. Ned’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw it.

“How fresh?”

“Not even ten hours.”

At that he couldn’t hide his smile. “For that I’ll break out the good stuff.”

“Not so fast,” I said, snatching the bag away before he could grab it. “I need the food but I also need a favor.”

“I know your favors,” he replied with a skeptical look, “and even that spleen might not be enough.”

“This is one even an old man like you can handle,” I said pulling the envelope out of my pocket. It was a bit crumpled, having been through hell along with me this morning, but Sharon’s name was still legible across the front of it.

“Why don’t you wait here and give it to her yourself? He asked. “She should be by in the next day or two.”

“I don’t have a day or two,” I said pulling back the sleeve covering the chunk missing from my arm.

“Oh,” he said, pausing for a moment before grabbing the letter and the spleen from my hand. For a second I thought I saw a little softening on his face. “And you sure you got time to get him to the hospital before...”

“Yeah,” I lied. “As long as the service here doesn’t suck as bad as usual.”

“No guarantees,” he replied with a chuckle before disappearing into the backroom. No one but Ned had ever been in his backroom, and I’d probably never eat there if I had, but the food was usually cheap and he always managed to have ice cold beer.

We didn’t have to sit there too long before Ned reappeared with a plate, a bag and another beer. He set the plate filled with shallow plastic cups down in front of the kid. One of the cups had applesauce, and one had mac and cheese. Another had some orange slices, the kind in the too sweet syrup that your mom would pack in your lunch. It wasn’t fresh, but still fruit was almost impossible to get. And the last cup was filled with chocolate pudding.

“I got a couple more in here,” he said setting the bag on the counter. “Hospital food has only gotten worse.”

I didn’t even have a chance to thank him before he set the beer down in front of me and disappeared once more into the back room. I pulled a couple spoons and forks from my bag, and gave the kid a set then pulled a knife out for me. There was no telling what Ned might bring out on my plate.

I had just finished my first beer and barely started on the second when he once again emerged from the back to set a plate down in front of me. It had a few green beans, obviously canned, but I couldn’t complain. Beside them was a mound of instant mash potatoes and a steak. The meat was thin and grisly, but I was sure it had come from Ned’s private stash.

“Wow. I...uh...thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get that kid where he needs to go, and quickly,” he said before turning his back on us again, going to wait on a scrawny old man that had just stumbled through the door.

The kid wolfed down the food without ever looking up from his plate and even though I would have loved to savor mine, time wasn’t on our side so I did the same. The potatoes were dry and gritty, the green beans were soggy, and the meat was tough, but it was the best meal I ever had.

As soon as we were done I slid the silverware underneath the plates for Ned to find then grabbed the kid and my bag. On our way out I gave a short wave towards Ned, and he nodded his head back at me. “Damn,” I thought. “I’m going to miss that old jackass.”

Our next stop was Oleson's Mercantile, the general store. The store name had nothing to do with anyone, least of all the old bitty who ran it; her name was Candice Schwimer. She just happened to really like the Little House on the Prairie books.