An Apocalypse Family (Book 1): Family Reunion (8 page)

“I think I can,” said Lisa, sizing up the shot.

We all got behind the truck, and she braced her arm on the bed. She leveled the M4 and took three deep breaths, letting the last one out slowly as her finger tightened on the trigger. The shot took her by surprise, and echoed around the room. I walked around the truck to the doors and inspected the damage.

“Perfect damn shot, Lisa. You are promoted to rifleman first class!”

I pushed on the door and it slid in its tracks back into the wall. Max released the finger locks on the other slider and moved it out of the way. I tossed him the keys.

“I’ll take the other one, you can have the F350.”

With that, I went out to the car and got a clean shirt.

Going to have to go to Wally World and get some more shirts,
I thought to myself. I went to find the other truck. I pushed the alarm button on the key fob and tracked down the F250.

Max and Lisa were already transferring the stuff from the Rover and Malibu into the F350 when I rolled up in my new ride. The King Ranch was one step down from the Platinum, but was no slouch. It was dark blue with gold trim, all leather, fully loaded. I liked it.

“Never figured I’d get to own a brand new one of these,” I said, stepping down from the cab. I owned an old ’97 F350 with the 8.3 power-stroke motor, but I’d always dreamed of having a new one. “This F250 is supposed to get 20 mpg highway,” I added.

Max stopped loading long enough to tell me to go cannibalize a couple of spare tires for our use. I found a jack and a lug wrench, and went to get us each an additional two spares.

I found a work truck that had the same size tires with just plain steel wheels. Not as cool as alloy, but it would work. I jacked up the truck, took off the left front tire, and lowered it down onto the ground. I would normally have found a block or something for it to sit on, but in this new world, it didn’t seem important.

I finished getting all four tires off but realized I wouldn’t be able to retrieve my jack from under the truck after all the wheels were off. My remedy was simple: I bashed in the window of the work truck and took the jack out of it. By the time I was done with my cannibalization, Max and Lisa had finished loading the trucks up and were ready to go.

We drove the trucks over, put the extra spare tires in, and pulled out of the dealer’s lot. I signaled Max to pull alongside me.

“We need to find a hardware store and a sporting goods store. There are a few more things we need before we take off.”

Max gave a thumbs-up and I pulled back out onto the Pacific Highway.

We hadn’t even gone a block when I spotted an auto parts store. I swerved into its parking lot and Max followed me. I hopped out of my truck, went up to the front window, and peered in.

Max walked up behind me. “What do you see?”

“Nothing bad,” I replied.

The entire front of the building was floor-to-ceiling windows, letting light penetrate far into the store. It was dark in the back, but I didn’t see the need for us to go in that far.

“Look over there.” I pointed to a shelf with 5-gallon gas cans. “We need those and a few other things out of here.” I went back to the truck and grabbed my M4.

“Come on, Lisa, we’re going to need your help.”

We went to the front door, which was still intact. I picked up a rock from the landscaping and tossed it at the door. It smashed, gloriously sending the glass cascading downward to the floor inside. Immediately, we heard a loud shriek as things crashed around in the back of the store. I looked at Max.

“Should we risk it?”

He looked into the store and blew out his air, puffing his cheeks as he did. “Yeah, we are going to need this stuff, and we’re going to run into these things everywhere we go—so why wait? I’ll go in first. Lisa, you grab a cart. Ryan, you cover our six.”

“Copy that, Chicken Two!” Lisa said.

“After you.” I bowed and motioned him through with a sweeping arm gesture.

My bravado was short-lived. As we entered the aisle holding the gas cans, a shriek bounced off the walls that I could feel all the way in my bones. Max swung toward the sound, and when he turned to look back, his eyes were as big as saucers. Lisa filled the cart with gas cans and hurried to the front of the store. I went as far as the end of the aisle to cover her and Max at the same time.

The freaks were howling and shrieking, and although I’d heard this before, it felt like the first time. Max waved at me to get my attention and pointed to the next aisle. I nodded, and he moved back to go over one aisle and stepped into the murky area of half-light leading to the parts section. I looked over to Lisa and back, and he was gone!
What the hell!

I ran to the end of the aisle and heard Max scream.

“Shit, shit, shit!”
I scrambled for my utility knife and turned on its flashlight. I held the M4 in my right hand and stepped around the corner. A freak had Max on the ground and I couldn’t tell much more than that. I couldn’t shoot the damn thing with it right on top of him, so I ran straight at it and ploughed into them, stabbing with the knife, trying to cut its damn head off.

I rolled off Max, losing my grip on the M4 but not the freak. I kept stabbing ferociously with my left hand, holding onto the freak’s head with my right. I couldn’t see anything, as the knife and the flashlight were now covered in blood.

Max began popping off rounds with his M4. The muzzle flashes were like a strobe light, freezing the image of a second freak right over him, then back a step, then another, and finally backed clear against the wall.

The freak I was fighting was incredibly strong, and my knife seemed to have no effect. I felt my body giving up. My mind screamed at me,
Don’t you quit, you pussy… don’t you dare quit!

The freak pushed me against something. I could feel his fetid breath. All of a sudden, my vision faded and I saw a very bright, white light.

So this is how I go out? I Love you J, Mark, Auddy…

The light exploded, and I felt the heat of the blast as the freak flew off me. I looked up to see Lisa standing over me, a halo around her head.

This is weird.

“Uncle Ryan, are you all right? Oh shit, oh shit, I killed Uncle Ryan!”

I tried to say something, but my voice failed me. As quickly as it started, it was over. Max was helping me up, half-dragging me back to the front of the store. Once we reached the light, I finally was able to blurt out, hoarsely,

“I’m okay, I think.”

Max eased me to the ground and sat down heavily next to me. Coughing, catching my breath, I tried to sit up. Lisa was still in a tizzy; her hands were going all over me.

“Lisa, I’m okay,” I said, firmly.

She sat down hard and started sobbing. Max scooted over next to her on his butt and pulled her into a hug.

“Did it bite you, Max? Hell,
did
it bite me?”

I started feeling around my face and neck. There was a lot of blood on me, but thankfully, it wasn’t mine.

“We’ve got to be more careful,” Max said over Lisa’s shoulder.

“Ya think?” she managed to get out between sobs.

She started getting it together—a deep breath, a hitch, another deep breath.

“Thanks, kiddo, you saved my
ass,” I managed to mumble.

“While you were saving my ass,” Max added.

“Look, we are not trained special operators. We have to sit down and plan these foraging trips a little more thoroughly,” I said as I rolled over onto my hands and knees to get up. I grunted and groaned as I used the shelves to get to my feet.

“I thought I shot you in the head back there,” Lisa said, on the verge of getting worked up again.

“Look, you didn’t. You shot the freak. If you hadn’t, I would have been toast!”

She just nodded, turned her head, and puked all over the shelf next to her. Max rubbed her back and held her hair.

She held up her hand. “I think I’m okay now.”

We collected everything else that we thought we might need: more flashlights, two full shopping bags of batteries, and a hand-crank pump as well as a battery-powered pump. We also got two batteries for the trucks and a bunch of tubing we could use with the small pumps that we found to siphon fuel.

Once we loaded the trucks with our bounty, I could see the exhaustion written across Max’s and Lisa’s faces. I’m sure mine looked as bad, if not worse.

“Look guys, I am voting we find someplace secure and hunker down for the night. I’m zapped.”

Max smiled and pointed at something over our heads. I looked up and saw the billboard: “Adventure Sports: Guns and More” with a big arrow pointing to the right. “Just one block and make a left on Scriber Lake Road.”

“That should work!” I said as we saddled up and started the trucks. We headed toward the other side of the parking lot, and right there in front of me was a Starbucks.

I swerved over and stopped. I hopped out and ran up to the window. The well-lit shop was all I needed to see. I went back to the truck, grabbed my M4, turned the safety off, and pelted the front of the store with about twenty rounds. Max got out of his ride and asked me what in the hell I was doing.

“Coffee,” was all I said.

I walked up to the counter and grabbed as much ground coffee as I could carry, a bunch of cups, and some filters too. I came out of the store with a shit-eating grin on my face.

“I don’t care if I have to boil it in a boot, I am going to have some coffee!”

We got back into the trucks and peeled out of the parking lot onto 200
th
street. The first intersection we came to was Scriber Lake Road. A Courtyard Hotel was on the corner. Just past it was a small two-level building, built back into the hillside, the lower portion facing the street and the top floor accessible by a driveway past the parking lot.

Immediately disappointed by its size and lack of burglar bars over the windows, I thought to myself,
this won’t work. How can a gun shop not have security bars?
I pulled right up to the front doors and parked.

There were several cars in the parking lot, and I knew we would have to clear the building.

I asked Max exactly what I was thinking: “Is it really worth it?”

He walked up to the doors and pulled on them. The left door swung open; he almost fell down, not expecting it to be unlocked. He quickly shut it and put his hand on the glass.

“This is one-inch Lexan,” he said.

“What’s Lexan?” Lisa asked, sparing me the trouble.

“Bullet-resistant polycarbonate plastic, just as good as bars on the windows,” he answered.

The fact that the place was unlocked was curious. Most gun shops left their doors locked, even during business hours, and used an electronic lock to buzz people in once they eyeballed them with a camera. Whatever the reason, we had access, but I was still leery of going in after the debacle at the auto parts store.

“Man, I just don’t know if we should risk it,” I said.

Max seemed to ponder it for a minute. “I think it’s something we have to do. It’s secure, and look at all the shit in there.”

I didn’t like it, but I acquiesced. “Okay, but we have to come up with a better strategy than we used in the auto parts store.”

We took a walk around the building to make sure there were no obvious breaches that might indicate a freak nest. The bottom floor, basically a basement dug into the hillside with one side facing the street, looked secure. The top floor was office space that was locked up tight and didn’t appear to have been broken into. We discussed in detail how we would go in, what we would do, and how we would retreat if necessary.

I felt better, even though in reality we were still three civilians who weren’t trained for this kind of action.

It is what it is… God, I hate that cliché,
I thought as we stacked up next to the front door.

Max was again the first one in, carrying his M4 up and ready. Lisa kept her hand on his shoulder, the M9 pointing out to the right and down, ready to bring it to bear. I followed right behind Lisa with my M4 up and pointed to the left. Max had duct-taped the flashlight to the end of his M4, although the room we entered had plenty of light.

As soon as we stepped over the threshold, I knew there was something dead close by. It lacked the smell that I’d come to associate with the freaks; it just smelled like ordinary, everyday death. Lisa gagged but didn’t throw up. I felt the tang in my mouth that usually preceded a full-on ralph attack, but managed to keep it down.

Max led us right up to the glass display counter at the back of the room. He leaned forward and shined his light back and forth, surveying the situation.

“Oh shit!” he said with a disgusted tone, and made for the end of the counter. We stuck together as if an invisible rope connected us. Lisa’s hand never left his back, and I found myself bumping into her whenever they stopped.

“This room is clear,” Max said, lowering his rifle.

I went behind the counter and saw what Max had already discovered. It looked like a double murder, with a suicide to boot. An older woman sat slumped over, her brains all over the mirrored wall next to her. A smaller form, which looked like a girl, lay prostrate on the floor with a similar head wound. Next to the older woman sat a man staring directly at me, the entire top of his head missing, a Taurus Judge lay beside him.