The Reckoning - 02 (12 page)

             
“Ahh, there’s nothing quite like a little Mutual Assured Destruction.”

             
“More like, fight fire with fire,” he said, smiling.

             
“Trust me, Gunny,” I said.
“No one wins in that conflict.”

             
I dug my plastic spoon out of my pocket and started spooning cold beef mac into my mouth.
It wasn’t a gourmet meal, but it beat a sharp stick in the eye.
Not by much, though.
I ate two cans before my hunger was fully abated.

             
Once we finished eating, I grabbed my flashlight and the Keltec and walked the perimeter.
I wanted to make certain that all of the entrances were secure before we bedded down for the night.
Content that we’d done all we could to secure the building, I headed back to where my pack and sleeping bag were.
I think I was asleep as soon as my head hit the rucksack I was using as a pillow.

“If you can keep your wits about you while all others are losing theirs, and blaming you. The world will be yours and everything in it; what's more, you'll be a man, my son.”

-
         
Rudyard Kipling

13 April

             
Morning came and I awoke to the smell of coffee.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes and looked around the room.
Gunny had rigged a makeshift cook stove out of a propane torch.
The coffee smelled great. It was all the incentive I needed to get up and start pulling my boots on.

             
“Morning, sunshine,” grumbled Gunny.

             
“What time is it?” I asked, getting to my feet.

             
“Zero six hundred,” he replied.
“Give or take.”

             
“Close enough,” I said, reaching for the coffee pot.

             
Gunny handed me a coffee mug he’d found in the offices up front.
It said “world’s greatest secretary” on it.
I didn’t care, so long as it held coffee.
I poured myself a generous cup and smelled it.
It was definitely “Gunny Brew.”
I could smell the bourbon.
I took a tentative sip and discovered that it didn’t seem as bad as before.

             
“This ain’t half bad,” I said, relieved.

             
“It grows on you,” he replied. “Pretty soon, you’ll develop a taste for it.”

             
“Hey, so long as it keeps me awake and I’m alive to enjoy it,” I said, taking another sip.

             
By the time I finished my second cup of coffee, I was ready for action.
We rolled up our sleeping bags and picked up all of our gear.
Then we loaded it all into the van.
Odin found a nice corner of the shop to relieve himself and it gave me an idea.
I went into the bathroom and checked the water.
The last time we’d been here, there was still pressure in the lines.
I was relieved to find that there still was.

             
After cleaning up, I started checking the perimeter.
There were a few zombies on the north side of the building, but the van was parked by the south door.
If we timed it right, we could be outside and moving before they ever made it around the building.

             
We talked it over and decided that I would drive and Gunny would open the door.
We got into position and I made sure the passenger door was unlocked.
Odin was sitting up in the middle row seat, panting excitedly.
He has always liked going places in the car.
When I was ready, I fired up the engine.
That was Gunny’s cue for opening up the door.

             
He pulled furiously on the chain and I knew that since I could hear it over the sound of the engine that the zombies around the building could hear it, too.
It seemed to take forever for him to roll open the door enough to drive the van through.
Then he was running for the door.

             
“
Go! Go! Go!
” he yelled, diving in the door.

             
I already had the van in reverse and was letting off the brake when he slammed the door shut and locked it.
I shot backwards out the door, clipping the
Sprinter
that rounded the corner.
I felt him bounce beneath the wheels and then we were clear of the door.
I spun the wheels and angled us towards the front of the parking lot.
Two more
Sprinters
rounded the corner and started hitting the passenger side of the van.

             
“For fuck’s sake, Go!” shouted Gunny.

             
I pulled the transmission into drive and hit the gas.
In seconds, we were on the road accelerating away and leaving the
Sprinters
behind us in our dust.
I didn’t slow down until I could see the gas station coming up ahead of us. I wanted to put some distance between us and the
Sprinters
, but mostly I was just in a hurry to get back to my family.

             
I planned on retracing the route we’d taken on the way out here.
I had originally planned to take the Humvee we’d passed, but I didn’t know if I wanted to give up the van or not.
It was comfortable to drive and held plenty of cargo.
It wasn’t armored, though, and that was a major selling point for the Humvee.
If the area was clear enough, I’d check the Humvee to see if it would start.
If it would, then we’d transfer all the gear over and take it. We’d keep the gasoline.
It wouldn’t work in the Humvee since it was a diesel, but it would work great as fuel for Molotov cocktails.

             
I kept my eyes peeled for any signs of life, as I drove.
I was on the lookout for bands of the dead, but I was hoping to find signs of survivors.
Unfortunately, the only movement I saw was the dead.
As we passed the little town of Galena, only the dead walked those streets.
There were no banners hanging from buildings asking for a rescue.
No makeshift barricades, no signal fires.
There were only the dead.

             
We left that town in our wake, without looking back.
Half an hour later, we were approaching the area where the roadblock with the Humvee was at.
I slowed down as we got close to the area.
When I topped a hill and saw the Stone County Patrol car, my heart sank.
The Humvee was gone. Someone had beaten us to it.

             
I came to a stop and surveyed the area.
There were numerous bodies lying around.
All of them had been shot in the head and the area had been picked clean.
The patrol car’s doors were open and so was the trunk.
There was nothing left.

             
“I think I know who did this,” I said.

             
“Your friends?” asked Gunny.

             
“Yeah, I think so,” I replied.
“They were really crowded in those two Humvees.
If Southard and Spec-4 were smart, they would’ve off-loaded part of the people into the other Humvee and had John drive it.
That’s what I would’ve done.”

             
“Sounds reasonable,” he agreed.
“Now what?”

             
“We keep going,” I said.
“We stay in the van.”

             
“Good.”

             
When we reached Jamesville, I pulled into the little gas station and stopped.
I didn’t see any movement, and there were a few more bodies lying around then when we’d stopped here the last time.
Even this remote little town had been destroyed by the dead.
They were truly everywhere.
The thought struck me again, that this really might be the end of the world.

             
If that was true, then I was even more determined to find my family and save whatever piece of this world that I could.
If any of us were going to survive, it was going to be a hell of a fight.
I for one, was going to fight until the last breath to give my children a chance at life.
It wasn’t much, but it was all I had left to offer them.

             
“Why are we stopping here?” asked Gunny.

             
“I’m not sure,” I replied.
“I just noticed that there were more bodies here than the last time.
I wanted to see what else might be different.”

             
That’s when I noticed that there were more vehicles in the diner’s parking lot, as well.
There was a pair of Chevy Suburban’s and a Ford Bronco that I didn’t recognize.
I didn’t get to ponder it for long when a gunshot broke the silence.
It was a shotgun blast and it took out the windshield, spraying me with glass shards and knocking me against the driver’s window.

             
My ears were ringing, but my mind was screaming, “
MOVE!”

             
I listened to my mind.
I yanked the van into drive and punched the accelerator to the floor.
Two more shotgun blasts erupted and I could tell that we’d just lost both passenger side tires.
I turned the wheel and hit the brakes, but we struck a fence rail and flipped over onto our side. With a sickening crunch and a screech of metal, we finally came to a stop.

             
I wasn’t seat-belted in because it wouldn’t fit around my armor.
I fell in a heap against the passenger door, right on top of Gunny.
He was covered in blood and looked to be out of it.
Suddenly, I was angry.
Like a white-hot fire in my chest kind of mad.
I found my shotgun next to me and yanked it clear of the debris it was under.
Then I turned off the safety.
I could hear voices and footsteps approaching.

             
“We got the fucker,” said a male voice.

             
He sounded young.

             
“Damn right, we did,” answered another.

             
This one was young and sounded like a hick.

             
“Shut the fuck up, you two,” said a third voice.

             
This one sounded much older.

             
“Let’s find out what they have,” said number three, again.

             
A face appeared in the windshield and I shot it at point blank range.
There was nothing left of the head as the lifeless body fell to the ground, blood pumping from the top of the neck.

             
“Sum-bitches are still alive in there,” said the second voice.

             
“No shit! They killed Jimmy,” said number three.

             
“Let’s burn ‘em out, then,” said number two.

             
“Go get the others,” ordered number three.
“We’ll get them once we’ve got back-up.”

             
I heard someone running away.

             
“Ya’ll might as well surrender,” called voice number three.
“There’s way more of us than there are of you.
I promise you that.”

             
Before I could answer, Gunny groaned.
He was alive.
I couldn’t tell how bad he was hurt, but he was alive.
I touched my face and realized I was bleeding.
There were pieces of glass stuck in my cheek and forehead.
It didn’t hurt much, but it was bleeding quite a bit.
Odin crawled out from under a pile of boxes and shook his head.
He looked unhurt.
That dog has all the luck.

             
I started to check Gunny when I smelled gas.
The gas cans in the back were leaking.
If we weren’t careful, we’d go up in a fireball.
I took the butt of the shotgun and knocked the rest of the windshield out onto the ground.

             
“Yeah, that’s it,” said number three.
“Toss out your weapons and come out slow, and I might not kill you.”

             
“Screw you, asshole!” I called back.

             
In response, number three fired into the roof of the van, blasting a hole I could see light through just a few feet away from me.

             
“Last chance,” he called back.

             
“Wylie,” choked Gunny, his voice ragged.

             
I turned to look at him.
His eyes were open, but there was blood all over his left shoulder.
I could now see the ragged bullet holes in his chest.
The blast sprayed me with glass, but it must have hit him. It looked like he’d caught a couple of buckshot pellets.
He needed a doctor.

             
“Yeah, Guns,” I whispered.
“I’m here.”

             
“These fuckers are gonna kill us, no matter what we do,” he hissed, teeth clenched in pain.

             
“Probably,” I agreed.