The Exodus Is Over (7 page)

 
Jon shut off the radio. Nikki had stopped eating and stared at it. Jon said, “It’s hard enough that we have to defend ourselves against millions of highly infectious cannibals. Now our own government is going to bomb us with chemical weapons.”

 
“Sounds like a pretty good solution to me.”

 
“Yeah, if you’re in Canada. I thought we signed a treaty getting rid of all of that stuff.”

 
“Guess not.” Nikki looked around. “There’s no sealing off this leaky old cabin.”

 
“It’s not like we’re in a populated area of more than ten thousand.”

 
“Tell that to the massive target of opportunity walking on either side of the lake.”

 
Jon nodded, “Okay, so we have to try and outrun those things on the shore. We can take the boat as far north as this lake goes.”

 
“It’s about three miles. Ends at a small town.”

 
Then we get a car.”

 
“Or find a house or other building that we can seal.”

 
“I’m not buying that solution. Being locked in a house might as well be the same as standing outside. They find a way to break in. You know that better than anyone.”

 
She started eating again. “Obviously, finding a car is preferable. I’m just pointing out the other logical option. It pays to have the contingencies covered.”

 
Jon bit into his now cold omelet. Despite a reputation for tasting like reconstituted cardboard, even cold his MRE tasted great.
 

Nikki drove as they cruised up the lake. They kept their heads ducked down with Nikki popping up every moment or so to check on their course. Fiends on both sides screeched and screamed with excitement as they ran along the banks in frenzied pursuit.
 

Jon yelled over the engine noise, “It looks like we’re going to have to move fast. I’m going to break the must haves into two light packs. We’ll have to leave the rest.”

“The most important thing is ammo. Pack everything we’ve got.”

In minutes a small town appeared at the lake’s river mouth. There was a two-story brick building near the harbor entrance. It was the fire and police headquarters. A dozen police and firemen as well as a few citizens were on the roof shooting at the infected below. Several German Shepherds were on the roof with them and the dogs barked and yipped in frustration at not being close enough to kill. The boarded-up doors and windows were under full assault.

The parking lot held several cars, but that left the question of keys. There were also a couple cop cars in a separate fenced off area. Nikki slowed the boat to an idle as they got closer. The people on the building occupied most of the Fiend’s attention, but a few started to take notice of them as well. They ducked back down.

Nikki said, “The cop cars will have keys.”

 
“How do you figure?”

 
“My uncle was a cop. Small town. They always leave the keys in the car. I even took one for a joy ride once.”

 
Jon raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

 
“We drive the boat right up to the edge of the lot where they’re fenced off. We run like hell, throw the blankets over the barbwire and try to climb over before the fuckers can get us.”

 
“You lived through Sudan with plans like that?”
 

 
“You got something better?”

 
“Nope. All cops just leave the keys in the car. Got it.”

 
Nikki gave him a frustrated look then decided to let it go. They were running out of time. “I’ll cruise really close to shore over that way. We’ll draw the things away from the fence and then we’ll shoot back this way and beach the boat.”

 
“Okay, you run first with the blankets and toss them over the barbwire. I’ll be right behind with the backpacks. I’ve got better body armor, so you go over first.”

 
“Fine.”

 
Nikki, strapped the M-16 over her shoulders, drove about one hundred and fifty yards away from the fence and stopped maybe thirty feet from the shore, engine idling. The Fiends bunched up in droves following them, some falling into the water.
 

 
When the fenced area was clear, Nikki gunned the boat and raced the other way. They hit the boat ramp hard, skidding right out of the water and used the last of the momentum to run right off the bow. The Fiends were running too and they were running fast.

 
Jon flung the backpacks over as Nikki heaved the blankets only to have them land short, uselessly falling to the ground.

 
“Shit!” She scooped them up and heaved again with the same effect. The fence was too high.

 
“Fuck it!” Jon started climbing the fence. “I’ll lay on it, you climb over me!”

 
He scrambled to the top and almost fell. The barbed wire pressed painfully into his gut, but the leather held. The Fiends were almost on top of them. Nikki scrambled up the fence, grabbing onto Jon’s belt, then shoulders. A Fiend jumped and grabbed Jon’s leg. Then another one got a hold. “Awww fuckkker!”

 
Nikki threw herself over the other side and landed badly, hitting her head. She buckled in a dazed fashion, while Jon clung to the fence for dear life.

 
“Nikki! Nikki! Jesus! Snap out of it!”

 
Still dazed, she unholstered the Beretta, stumbled to the fence and fired nearly point blank into the face of one of the creatures holding Jon’s legs. He broke free and scrambled over the top, landing on both feet just as a wall of Fiends hit the fence behind them. The chain link bulged and swayed with the buffeting. The people on the roof starting pouring their fire into the mass.
 

 
Jon tried the first car door - locked.
 

 
Nikki tried the other one
 
- no good. “You gotta be kidding?”

 
Fiends were starting to climb the fence. Most were getting caught in the barbwire, but a few had figured out Jon’s method and were using the trapped bodies of the others to act as a path. The people on the roof kept picking them off, but Jon and Nikki had maybe seconds before they’d be overwhelmed.

 
Nikki unslung her rifle and was about to use the butt of it on a driver’s window when they heard a loud whistle. A cop on the roof held a pack of keys aloft and then he tossed them in an arc toward them. They hit the top of the car and slid into Jon’s chest.
 

 
“Thanks!” he yelled.

 
“Good luck!” the cop yelled back.

 
Jon opened the doors and they both hopped in just as half a dozen monsters made it over the fence. He re-locked the doors and started the engine.
 

 
The Fiends were on the car in seconds, pounding the windows and yanking on the doors. Jon floored it toward the entry gate, which without electricity wasn’t going to open, but that didn’t stop the push-bumper equipped squad car from plowing right through it. With a screech of spinning tires and scraping metal, a dozen infected were trapped and crushed as the car’s wheels spun and slipped over the chain link. Then the razor wire wound itself up around the right rear axle, snaring the car as another group of ghouls threw themselves upon it.
 

 
Jon slammed the transmission into reverse, sending a cloud of burned rubber smoke into the air and the wire pulled taught again.

 
“Forward! Go forward!” screamed Nikki.

 
“No shit!” He shoved the gearshift into drive and smashed the gas pedal into the floorboards. The tires screeched in protest as the car shot forward, dragging razor wire and a section of fencing behind it. The car started to fishtail and came extremely close to spinning into the lake when the piece of fence whipped around a light post and snapped the wire, setting them free.
 

 
The street was full of infected. Snarling creatures ricocheted off the bumper and fenders like rag dolls. The volume of bodies slamming against the car was nearly deafening and Nikki and Jon screamed mindlessly, adding their horror to the incredible din. Blood and hair and spit and dirt and pieces of clothing splattered all over the hood, doors, and windows. Then suddenly they were past them. The road ahead was mostly clear and Jon released some of the death grip he’d had on wheel. He sat up, his shoulders un-hunched and he lifted his head to look into the rearview mirror.

 
Nikki spotted the cop on the roof, waving his radio over his head and she switched on the police scanner.
 

 
Immediately a voice came over the other end - “listening…? Folks, this is Officer Frank Gifford. You just escaped with one of our cruisers. You listening? This is Officer Gifford, You folks listening?”

 
Nikki picked up the mike, “Yes officer, what can we do to help you now?”

 
“You can keep driving. There’s no way to safely come back for us.”

 
“Sir, you know they’re bombing bigger towns tonight?”

 
“We’re probably too small, but just in case, we’ve got a sealed room anyway. Don’t worry about us. The bastards aren’t getting inside. We’re going to stay up here to be sure. If we see the bombers, we’ll get the bastards nice and clustered around us. The important thing is for you folks to keep going north. It’s about three hours to Montreal at… What? What is that? What’s that buzzing? What is that?” They heard him call out to the others on the roof. "You guys feel that?" Then Gifford took his thumb off the mic. Nikki tried to raise him again, but no luck. The gunfire suddenly stopped.

 
Jon slumped down in the car so he could just peer out the window and said, "Fuck. Keep your head down."

 
They sat in stony silence as Jon drove. After ten minutes or so, he wiped the cooling sweat off his face, “We need the GPS, I know I’m driving north but I don’t really know where or how to get to the border.”

 
“Well, that’s a drag, cuz we left the backpacks back in the parking lot.”

 
Jon sighed and shook his head.

 
“Maybe there’s a map.”

 
“Kind of a basic cop car. Not even one of those computer thingies.”

 
Nikki looked through the glove box and the center console. “Some helpful gear here but no map.” She pulled out a fifth of whiskey and held it up with a smirk. “I wonder if anybody gets a DUI in that town.”
 

 
Jon fumbled with the key fob and unsnapped the other keys. “See if one of these releases that shotgun.”

 
Nikki found the key and unlocked the gun. There were shells in the center console so she loaded it, racked it and made sure the safety was on.

 
They drove in silence for several miles. Occasionally a Fiend would run out at them like a car-chasing dog, but Jon would just step on the gas and leave it behind.

 
“This is my second borrowed cop car in a week,” said Jon.

 
“You drive it pretty well.”

 
“Thanks.”

Just outside of the town of Conway they saw a gas station with a bed sheet made into a banner hanging from the price sign:
TAKE WHAT YOU NEED. PUMPS WILL WORK UNTIL THE GENERATOR RUNS OUT. GOD BLESS AMERICA
. A pitched battle had taken place here - dead Fiends and half eaten humans littered the area around the gas pumps. A car had crashed through the front window of the attached convenience store.

 
Jon slowed down to a crawl, “It wouldn’t hurt to top off the tank. Maybe there’s a map and some food and water left. I say we risk it.”

 
“Fine. You go in with the shotgun. I’ll cover you.”

 
Jon pulled up to the pumps, trying to avoid running over any bodies, and put the cruiser in park, leaving the engine running. He slapped on his helmet and they both stepped out to listen. No birds. No generator. Just a grunting coming from inside the store.
 

 
Jon said, “That doesn’t sound good.” He took the safety off the shotgun.

 
Nikki shouldered her M16 scanning past the sight into the store. There was another grunt that turned into a moan. “Let’s not be heroes. We’ll find something farther along.”

 
“I think I see one of those map carousels. We need a map.” He kept the shotgun leveled and stepped to the doorway.

 
The car had smashed through a good portion of the store. The passenger's lifeless body hung through the front windshield. The driver was a woman, still seated, her head pinned against the steering wheel by a heavy looking suitcase that had been launched from the back seat when they smashed to a halt. The blood had only just congealed.
 

 
A live male Fiend was trapped between the front bumper and the store’s mangled checkout counter. Despite the blood trickling from its mouth and legs twisted into an impossible shape, it feebly growled while trying to reach for Jon.
 

 
Nikki stepped up to the smashed window and surveyed the scene. “That’s fucked up.”

 
“Shouldn’t you be watching the outside?”

 
“I’m still out here. Just want to make sure the bogeyman doesn’t jump you from behind some shelf.”

 
Jon spun a rack of maps mixed with post cards and grabbed a local and a Greater New England one. The food had mostly been picked clean, but there were some bags of snacks still scattered around. The only liquid was Yoo Hoo chocolate drink and a can of Monster energy. He grabbed both.