Meteor (10 page)

“Jackpot!” Brandon said as he got into the passenger side seat. Hannah got in the back.

“Alright, now we can really cover some ground. We are going further into town. We should try and get as many supplies as we can so we don’t have to do this again for a while,” Troy said.

“Haven’t we been through enough?” Hannah said as she began to cry again.

“Hannah, again I am so sorry about your father, but we have to do this. Otherwise, we’ll be out here again trying to scrounge up what’s left of the supplies in just a week or two,” Troy said.

As they drove along the road, they passed several bodies in various stages of decay. The clouds were still thick and dark above their heads. Once they got into town, they saw more abandoned cars and corpses here and there. Troy pulled up to the Food Rite store and looked at the entrance. Just like the other places, the windows and doors were smashed.

“Hannah, why don’t you wait here,” Troy said. “I will leave you with a weapon to protect yourself. If someone tries to get in the car, shoot them. If we can’t get to the car because of gunfire, you need to get away, do you understand?” She nodded to indicate that she did.

“Come on, son,” Troy said as he waved to Brandon. They drew their weapons and entered the darkened grocery store. Much of the shelves had been cleaned out, but they did manage to come across some canned goods that had been left behind. Mostly canned asparagus, artichokes and such. There was even some water left in the back, right next to a rotting corpse that clutched it. A few feet away was another rotting corpse, clutching a gun.

“Looks like these two got into it over the water supply, but neither party made it out with it,” Troy said. “Come on, let’s load this stuff into the car.”

Troy and Brandon loaded the items into the trunk of the car until it was as full as it could get.

They closed the doors of the Camaro and prepared to go further into town. Just as Troy was about to pull out of the parking lot, they heard the sound of several cars fast approaching them. Soon, two pick up trucks and one Pontiac Grand Prix pulled up and surrounded the blue Camaro. Troy threw the car in reverse in an attempt to get them out of the situation. He backed right into another car that had been left parked there, jarring all of the passengers inside.

“Hold on!” Troy threw the Camaro into drive and tried to move through an opening between the vehicles. The other cars pulled right in behind him, and soon they were chasing him down the road.

“Step on it, dad!” Brandon urged him, as Troy flew down the main road that went through town. The pick up trucks were right on his tail. Soon, one of them caught up to where they were and pulled up beside the blue Camaro. A man in a gas mask began to fire shots.

“Get down!” Troy shouted. The two children crouched down as low in their seats as they could. Unfortunately, Brandon came up form the floorboards too soon, and one of the shots got him right in the arm.

“AHH he got me!” Brandon shouted, as Troy came to a dirt track to the left of the main road.

“Hannah, get this wrapped around his arm!” Troy tore cloth from his own sleeve and handed it to her. She frantically began to wrap his bleeding arm up with the small piece of cloth, while Brandon bit down on his lip to try and take the pain.

“Hang on!” Troy yelled as the tires of the Camaro began to spin out on the dirt. The trucks were closing in behind. The men were still firing their weapons. Hannah grabbed Brandon’s gun after she finished tying off his arm and began to fire wildly back at them.

“Go for their tires!”

She nodded her head at Troy and began to fire at the tire of the truck just behind. The passenger tried to shoot Hannah, but she managed to get back into the window of the car in time. Luckily, one of her shots met its mark and the tire of the truck deflated. The truck came to a stop and the vehicles just behind it rammed into the back.

Troy laughed in relief as he managed to leave their pursuers behind. The dirt track they were following looped around through the woods, but they managed to follow it back out to another main road.

“Let’s get back to the bunker. That was close. We need to treat your wound as soon as possible,” Troy said. Brandon was wincing from the pain as Hannah tried her best to comfort him.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said as she patted him awkwardly on the back. Her touch soothed Brandon as the waves of pain passed through him.

They managed to get back to the bunker without any further incident. As they approached the entrance, Mary was pleased to see that they were there, but also worried as she saw her son clutching his arm.

“What happened?” she asked, as the three of them came inside.

“Who is she?” Cordelia asked, looking at Hannah.

Troy addressed his wife first. “We ran into some trouble. First, these guys in a blue Camaro came after us. We managed to shoot them in self defense and got inside of their car. Once we did that, more people came after us, and that’s when Brandon got shot in his arm. This is Hannah, it’s Dennis Harper’s daughter. He didn’t make it unfortunately.”

“Hi Hannah,” Mary said.

Cordelia smiled at Hannah. “Hi.”

Hannah was tall and had blonde hair. She was a little older than Cordelia, but only by about a year.

“Nice to meet you. I’m sorry to be a burden,” Hannah said politely.

“Oh no, think nothing of it,” Mary replied with a smile. “Come on in and make yourself comfortable.”

“Come on, I’ll show you our room,” Cordelia said, anxious to have a girlfriend to talk to about things. Once the two girls were out of sight, Mary turned to Troy.

“Why are we taking someone in? I thought you said it would be too much of a drain on our supplies.”

“I know, honey, but we couldn’t leave her there. She watched her own father get gunned down, and they would have raped her if we hadn’t helped her out. There are so many people out there just trying to get whatever they can without a shred of humanity left,” he said.

Mary got out the first aid kit and began to dress Brandon’s wound. The shot had entered deep into his arm muscle and he winced again from the pain as she took the blood-soaked shirt off of his arm and put peroxide on the wound.

“AHHHH!” he screamed out in agony as the liquid bubbled up in the wound. Fresh blood began to seep out.

“We have to get a bandage on that, quickly,” she said. She cut off some gauze and soon had it wrapped around his arm. Blood quickly soaked the wrap. Mary gave Brandon some pain reliever and he laid down on the couch.

“You need to get some rest,” she instructed him.

“What did you get on the supply run?” she asked Troy.

“We hit the jackpot. We got lots of canned vegetables, water and some ammo as well. Help me get it inside.”

Mary put on her gas mask and helped her husband carry the supplies into the bunker. Troy pulled the car around to the back so that it would not be seen from the road. The Camaro still had half a tank of gas in it, and he wanted to ensure that they would still have the vehicle for more supply runs in the future.

“I’m going to have to get more medical supplies for Brandon,” Troy said. “That gunshot is deep, and he is going to need some antibiotics. I hate to say it, but I’m going to have to make a hospital run.”

“It’s getting dark outside. You should wait and go in the morning,” Mary suggested.

“I guess you’re right. But I shouldn’t wait any longer than that. We don’t want infection to set in.”

***

That night, Troy slept terribly. A soon as he fell asleep, he dreamed that he and his son were driving down the main road that led through Dickson. As they made their way through, they were astonished to see corpses of people in various stages of decay walking towards them. The numbers of corpses grew and grew until they could no longer drive the car through the city streets.

The corpses surrounded the car with their hands groping at the windows, trying to get inside. One of them smashed the glass and got its skeletal hands around Troy’s throat. He screamed, and as he did so, he woke himself up. He sat there in covered in sweat, but was relieved to see his wife laying there next to him.

“It was a nightmare, dear. You’re okay. Take a deep breath,” she said in a comforting voice. Troy managed to calm down and even get back to sleep.

In the morning, Hannah and Cordelia came down from the bedroom. Hannah had on a long t-shirt and short shorts. Brandon opened his eyes from where he lay on the couch and noticed her as they came down. Although he had begun to think that he was gay in the days leading up to the disaster, he could not help but notice how beautiful she looked with her long blonde hair flowing over her shoulders, and her long, perfect legs. Then, he was reminded again of the pain that shot through his shoulder as he tried his best to sit up.

“Take it easy, dear,” his mother said as she came over to him and began to dress his wound again.

“How does the wound look?” Troy asked her.

“It doesn't look so great. You need to find him some antibiotics, and soon.”

“I’m off,” he said.

“Wait, have some breakfast first,” Mary urged him. She put together some eggs and toast for them. They were running very low on these things, so it would be the last breakfast of this kind for a while. Troy devoured the toast as the others slowly ate.

“Why don’t you let me come with you?” Mary finally asked her husband as he got up from the table and began to get his weapon loaded.

“No, it’s too dangerous. I need you to stay here and take care of things,” Troy said.

“Well, you need someone to go with you.”

“I’ll go,” Cordelia said, much to everyone’s amazement.

“No, you should stay here dear, it’s too dangerous,” Troy said.

“I want to go. I’ve been cooped up in here for too long. I don’t care how horrible it is out there, I want to be outside again. I want to feel the breeze in my face and see the trees and hills again.”

“You won’t be able to feel the breeze through your gas mask,” Brandon said as he clutched his arm.

“I don’t care, I want to go. Please, dad, let me go with you.”

Troy was silent for a moment.

“Very well, you can go, but I want you to carry a weapon. It’s gotten really dangerous, and there’s people that would rather shoot you than speak to you,” he said.

“I can handle it, dad.” Cordelia tried her best to pluck up her courage.

“Here, you can have my gun.” Brandon handed Cordelia his weapon. She looked at it like it was an object that had come from outer space.

“I’ve never fired a gun before,” she said skeptically.

“Look, this is the safety. This is how you cock it. Then, you simply pull the trigger,” Brandon said.

“Okay, sounds easy enough,” she replied hesitantly.

Hannah smiled at Brandon from across the table. Her smile was infectious to him and he smiled back at her.

“Let’s get going, honey. I want us to get back home long before dark, if we can,” Troy said.

Cordelia put on her gas mask.

“Do be careful out there,” Mary said to them as they left.

“We will mom,” Cordelia said.

Once outside, Cordelia was astonished at how cold it felt.

“I told you it would be chilly. Here, put this on.” Troy put his jacket over his daughter’s shoulders.

They got into the Camaro and sped off down the road in the direction of the county hospital on the edge of Dickson. Troy held his weapon in his hand in case they encountered any other roving bands of opportunists. He was pleased to see that there didn’t appear to be any other people on the road that day. When they pulled up to the hospital, they were surprised to see several cars still parked outside of it. Obviously, there were people inside.

“Cordelia, I want you to stay inside the car. Be ready to pull away as soon as I get back out here with the meds, is that clear? If someone approaches you, keep your gun on them, and if they try and get inside I don’t want you to hesitate - shoot them if you have to.”

“Dad, are you sure you don’t want me to come inside with you?” she asked him.

“No, it’s too dangerous. I need you to be ready to drive the getaway car. If I don’t come back out after thirty minutes, I want you to leave and head back for home,” he said.

“No, I will not leave you in there,” she said stubbornly.

“You have to. If something happens to me in there, I want you to get away safely. Do you understand me?”

Finally she gave up and nodded her head to indicate that she understood his instructions.

Troy cocked his gun and looked around at the outside of the hospital. Like the other buildings he had been to, many of the windows and doors had been kicked in and shattered. But here, objects had been placed up against the doors to bar them from outside intrusion. Troy found a window that was open and entered quietly through it.

Once inside, he could hear voices faintly talking from another room. He was inside one of the patient wards. There was a bed to his right that was still made up as if it were waiting on someone to occupy it. Troy moved quietly and cautiously to the door and peeked out.

Further down the hall, he saw a couple of people walking and talking. They were hooked up to oxygen machines that they were wheeling down the hallway alongside them. Troy crept back away from the window and began to check the cabinets in the room. He found some old medications, but nothing that resembled antibiotics.

He knew that he would have to venture out into the hallway and try and reason with the people there to see if they were willing to help. He would not, however, put his gun away. He moved out of the room and into the hallway with his weapon out in front of him. At first, he didn’t see anyone, but he could hear voices talking further down in the waiting room. He slowly made his way through the hallway, holding his gun forward.

Once he got to the patient waiting room, he saw several people standing around with oxygen masks on their faces. As soon as they saw Troy standing there, a couple of them drew guns and pointed them at Troy, who pointed his weapon back at them.

“Please, I’m not looking for any trouble. I’m only here to see if I can get some antibiotics for my son. He’s badly injured and I’m afraid he might die if I don’t get him the proper medicine.”

“You aren’t welcome here,” a man dressed in a lab coat told him. “We only have enough supplies for the twelve people that are staying here. We are running out of oxygen as it is,” the man said.

“Please, I’m not here to rob you of your oxygen, water or food supplies. I just need medicine, I swear it!” he said. The two men holding the guns looked at one another. The man in the lab coat made a hand motion to indicate to the gunmen that they could lower their weapons. Troy did the same thing after they did, as a gesture of good faith.

“Come with me,” the man in the lab coat said, as Troy followed him into a medical supply room. The man in the lab coat unlocked a cabinet and began to look through the contents.