Authors: E.E. Borton
A shaft of light peeked through the space at the bottom of
the closet door. My ribs gave me a not-so-gentle reminder to take it easy when
I reached up for the knob. I laid back down, defeated. Everything hurt.
It took a few minutes for me to motivate myself to try
again. I rolled onto all fours, and then lifted myself up to my knees. I opened
the door, squinting at the bright sunlight flooding through the window. I may
have been a little cavalier with my vow to put twenty miles behind me.
I dragged my toothbrush across a couple of teeth and
splashed a little water on my face. It was going to take me a while to work out
the kinks I had accumulated sleeping in the tiny closet. Walking through every
room, scanning out each window to check the perimeter, I made it back into
Bud’s office. I had more soup and Oreos for breakfast.
The morning light revealed several more photos of his family
on his desk and adorning the walls. Bud looked very much out of place. His red
face, thick neck, and thinning hair were in stark contrast to the two women in
the picture. The older, probably his wife, had porcelain skin, high cheekbones,
and long, dark hair. The younger, maybe his daughter, was lucky to inherit her
mother’s features, the only difference being tanned skin and light brown hair.
Both the females had normal-sized necks. I’m guessing they were the reason he
felt the need to hide a stash of cookies, chips, and sodas in his office.
I
don’t know why I’m not losing weight, honey. You know I eat like a bird when
I’m at home.
Like any addict, I’m sure at this point he was going through
a hellish detox, dreaming about what I had for breakfast. I don’t think his
family would complain if he revealed his stash to them now. It would probably
save their lives. Well, at least for a little while.
Sitting at his desk, I couldn’t help but go through his
drawers. I had already taken his food, so I might as well continue my looting.
The only thing of any value was a detailed map of Lafayette and the surrounding
counties. My map was a larger scale and didn’t include any backroads that might
cut some time off my trip. Everything else in the drawer was useless, tax forms
and stacks of mail.
Cynthia Jackson. I assumed that was his wife’s name, seeing
it several times on different forms. I looked at her picture in a large silver
frame on his desk. If those eyes couldn’t get Bud to stop eating, nothing
would.
With my muscles starting to relax, I put on my pack and made
one more round, checking for movement outside any of the windows. When I was
satisfied it was clear, I removed the nails from the back door and stepped out
into the sun. I scanned the skies, inhaled deeply, and listened for a moment
before starting my trek. (Wes would be proud that I was using all my senses,
looking for those elusive signs.)
Memorizing the new route from my updated map, I hit the
road. I felt every extra pound of the food I had jammed into my pack. There was
nothing left in the office for anyone coming after me to enjoy. They’d have to
look elsewhere for a free meal.
Walking for three miles, I came up on the intersection where
I’d have to make my decision. I stopped, looking around for Sam or Earl. Not
seeing them pointing me in the right direction, I turned and chose the wrong
one. We all know when we do it, but for some reason, we keep going down that
road.
Half a mile later, I was cruising through an affluent
neighborhood. Some of the houses were boarded up like they were waiting for a
hurricane. Others had broken windows and open doors. Debris from looting was
scattered across a few of the yards. There was no doubt I choose the wrong
direction when I smelled the decomposing bodies before I saw them. The two
purple, bloated humans lying in a driveway sent a clear message.
Don’t fuck
with this house
.
Standing in front of Bud’s house, there were no messages.
There were plywood sheets covering all the windows on the first floor and no debris
in the yard. At some point he needed to thank his neighbor for doing the dirty
work that kept his home intact.
I scanned the area, looking for gun barrels sticking out of
any windows, and took a deep breath. Shaking my head with disappointment in
myself, I walked through Bud’s yard to the porch. I knocked on the door and
then retreated to the middle of the yard with my hands in the air. I couldn’t
believe how stupid I was.
“I have a gun. I don’t have anything you want! Go away!”
yelled a man from behind the curtains of a shattered upstairs window.
“Are you Bud Jackson!”
“Who wants to know?”
“I used your office last night for shelter,” I said. “I
found your stash of food. I ate some of it, but I have the rest with me. I
wanted you, Cynthia, and your daughter to have it. I know it sounds crazy, but
I just wanted to thank you for providing a place for me to rest. I’ll put it on
your porch and then I’ll be on my way. I didn’t want to leave it out for
someone else to take. That’s all. I’m not looking for anything from you. I’m
going to your porch now. Don’t shoot me.”
The front door opened. Bud stepped out with a shotgun at his
hip. “You know my wife and daughter?”
“Not personally,” I said. “I just saw the pictures in your
office and read her name on some papers. Sorry about that. I got a little
bored.”
“Did you see them?” asked Bud, getting excited. “Do you know
where they are?”
“What? No,” I replied. “I only saw them in photos.”
He deflated, lowering his head and the shotgun. (Yep, I
should’ve gone straight.) He dropped his weapon on the porch, causing me to
flinch, thinking it might go off. Sliding down the doorjamb to a sitting
position, Bud started crying.
Don’t do it. Leave the food and walk away.
“When did you last see them?”
Shit.
“Five days ago,” answered Bud through his tears. “They were
going to her parents’ place on the other side of town. The have a stockpile of
food and water. They said they’d be back the next day with supplies.”
“How far is that?” I asked, walking slowly towards him.
“About eight miles if you go through town.”
“Did they go through town, Bud?” I said, standing on the
first step.
“Yes. I think they did.”
“Why didn’t you go with them?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“Look at me,” said Bud, opening his arms. “I have high blood
pressure, diabetes, and I weight over three hundred pounds. I wouldn’t have
made it a mile before dropping dead. Cynthia runs five miles a day and Erin
runs track at school. I just would’ve slowed them down. Her father has
diabetes, too. She knows I’m low on insulin.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to him. What I should’ve done was
drop off the food and get the hell out of there. Before I knew it, I was
sitting in his living room.
“Did you go through town?” asked Bud. “Did you see anyone?”
“No,” I replied. “Like I said, I used your office and then
planned on heading north to my house. I stayed as far away from town as
possible.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“I’m not going to sugarcoat anything for you, Bud. Sending
your wife and daughter out there alone is the worst mistake you could’ve made.
It’s a fucking nightmare if you don’t know what you’re doing. Lafayette was on
fire last night. Your girls, I’m guessing that they were unarmed?”
“They said the gun was too heavy and would slow them down,
too,” replied Bud, lowering his head again. “I didn’t want them to go, but…”
I didn’t see a need in continuing to beat this man up.
Losing count of the number of times he lowered his head in shame, I could tell
he was doing a good job on his own. What was done was done. I didn’t feel sorry
for him. I felt sorry for Cynthia and Erin, risking their lives to save his. It
should always be the other way around.
“They’re both strong and very smart,” said Bud. “Do you
think they made it and just stayed there?”
I would’ve.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It seems like they’d want to get
back here with your medicine as soon as possible. There’s no telling what they
came across along the way. You need to understand that. Two unarmed women
walking alone are easy targets.”
Okay, maybe I wasn’t finished beating him up.
“If making yourself believe that they’re safe at your in-laws’
house helps, then hold on to that thought as long as you can.”
“Then what do I do? I don’t know where they are.”
“You go find them,” I said, cocking my head at him. “Even if
it means you die trying, you go. At least you’ll die doing something, instead
of wasting away here feeling sorry for yourself. You get off your ass and you
go find them. It’s as simple as that.”
“Where do I start looking?” asked Bud, wide-eyed and
terrified at the idea. “What would
you
do?”
“I’d start by figuring out the route they might have taken,”
I said, pulling out his map, handing it to him. “You pack as much food, water,
and ammunition as you can carry, but you try to eat and drink anything you find
along the way first. Save what you started with as long as possible. As soon as
you get close to town, you start looking in places they might hide. I’m sure it
didn’t take them long to figure out walking through Lafayette was a bad idea.”
“If I come across anybody, do I ask if they’ve seen them?”
“Avoid groups of men,” I said. “Even if you recognize them,
stay clear. Friendships are the first thing to die. They’ll try to take your
pack and your gun. Shooting you first will be the easiest way to get to your
stuff.”
“Do I shoot them first?”
“Listen to me, Bud. People are beginning to run out of
everything. They’re beginning to starve. Everyone is dangerous.”
“But what if they know something? What if they could tell me
where they are?”
“Okay, so you’re not listening to me,” I said, standing and
opening my pack. “Here’s what’s left of the food from your office. It should
last you a few days. Good luck and thank you again for the shelter.”
“Wait, please,” said Bud, standing as well. “I’m listening,
I swear. I just don’t know what to do. I’m scared to death. If I let you keep
the food, will you go with me?”
“Oh, no, Bud,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s not going to
happen. I don’t do towns. You have no idea how far I’ve already pushed my luck.
I’m not pushing it anymore. I’m sorry about your family, I really am, but you
have to do this, not me.”
“I can’t do this and you know it,” said Bud, pleading. “I’m
going to die, but I don’t care. I’m already dead without them. My daughter and
my wife, they deserve to live. They could’ve left me years ago and I wouldn’t
have blamed them, but they didn’t. They’re my angels. They have good hearts and
they don’t deserve to die out there. I’m begging you. Please help me find them
and bring them home. I’ll give you everything I have.”
“I’m sorry, but I want to go home, too,” I said, leaving him
standing in the living room.
Walking out the door, I stopped on the porch. Sam was
standing on the bottom stair with her arms crossed. She didn’t look happy.
“You gotta be kidding me.”
Nothing needed to be said.
After staring at her for a moment, I turned and walked back
inside. My steps were heavy with purpose – and anger. Bud was standing in the
same place where I left him. He had a blank stare as I pulled off my pack and
sat on the couch in front of the map. I picked up the highlighter, holding it
up to him.
“Mark the route you think they took to her parents’ house,”
I said.
“Are…are you going to –”
“Mark the goddamned route, Bud.”
“Okay, yes, sir,” said Bud, dropping to his knees in front
of the map. A smile crept across his face while his shaky hand crossed the map.
His changing mood from bad to good pissed me off even more.
“Listen to me,” I said, looking to burst his bubble. “The
chances of them still being alive are slim to none. Personally, I’m leaning
towards none. So you may want to wipe that smile off your face and speed this
up.”
“But there is a chance,” said Bud, removing his smile. “Why
else would you be going with me?”
“You’re not going,” I said. “I need to move fast. I’m sure
you do a lot of things well, but moving fast isn’t one of them. Stay here in
case they come back.”
Bud looked down at his stomach. “I haven’t always been like
this, you know. Believe it or not, I used to be about your size. After finishing
college, getting married, and starting my business, I paid more attention to
providing for my family than I did with taking care of myself. And now me being
this size is what has separated us. I know you look at me as worthless, but I’m
not. I’ve given them a good life.”
“Touching,” I said, standing. “Well, Mother Nature has just
put the entire planet on a weight loss program, so you’ll be good to go in a
couple of months. But that box of Little Debbies right there, if you touch one
before I get back, I’ll kick your teeth in. Those are mine. What are her parents’
names?”
“Lawrence,” said Bud. “Trevor and Melissa Lawrence.”
I snatched the map off the table, grabbed my pack, and
headed outside. I wasn’t pissed at Bud. I was pissed at Sam. Once again, she
had found it necessary to put me back in harm’s way. I figured she was trying
to get us back together. She couldn’t come back to my world, so she was looking
to put me in hers. Sending me into the one place I vowed to avoid at all costs
was the easiest way for her to do that.
I hope you’re ready, Lafayette cowards. If there’s
anything left standing, I’m going to bring it down on top of your fucking
heads.
All the pain in my ribs disappeared when I turned a corner
and saw smoke billowing from a convenience store on the edge of town. I had no
idea how long I had been walking and I didn’t care. The only thing I did care
about was getting to Cynthia’s parents’ house as quickly as possible. I
suspected that they might have made it there, but then her parents – if they
had any sense – convinced her and Erin to stay.
If they did make it, my problem was solved. I’d let Bud know
where they were on my way out. It would be up to him to find a way to get there.
I’d grab my snack cake payment and be on my way. If they didn’t make it, I’d
backtrack through town looking for them. I didn’t like the idea of going
through the middle of Lafayette. It would be nothing short of suicide doing it
twice. But it’s what Sam wanted.
Like most rural towns, there was a small square in the
middle. As I reached the corner of the only three-story building, I scanned the
square for any movement or bodies. There were both.
Four men in camouflaged uniforms, holding shotguns, were
surrounding several others while they picked up a body and threw it onto
another corpse in a cart. Twenty yards away were three more bodies. I noticed
two of the workers were wearing scrubs. The four with shotguns could’ve been
military, but they were too far away to verify. Regardless, I didn’t feel a
need to introduce myself to them. Cowards or not, I was the one outgunned.
My initial thoughts were that this part of Lafayette was
still owned by the local government. Looters and cowards don’t clean up bodies
lying in the town square. It was a good sign for Cynthia and Erin. If they made
it this far, they may have been given safe passage or even shelter. Either way,
I needed to talk to one of them.
Across the square on a rooftop corner, I saw the barrel of a
scoped rifle and the top of a shooter’s head. Looking up at the three story
building I was leaning against, I had a feeling there was another above me. I
backed up and found an open door at the rear of the building. Pulling my
shotgun, I stepped inside.
Quietly slipping off my pack, I stuffed it underneath a
desk. I found the stairwell leading up to the roof. I didn’t expect the door to
be wide open. I did expect the tripwire.
Stepping over the alarm system, I crouched down so the
shooter across the square on the shorter building couldn’t put his crosshairs
on me. My target was sitting in a lawn chair, wearing all black, looking
through the scope that was pointing down at the crew cleaning up bodies. This
guy was about to learn a valuable lesson about rear security. To make my job
easier, he put down the rifle and picked up a can. When the spoon went in, I
put the barrel against the back of his neck.
“If you give the signal, I pull the trigger.” The spoon
froze. “What is that signal?”
“I – I take off my hat,” said the female voice. “Peter is
set up across the square.”
“I know,” I said. “What’s your name?”
“Stephanie,” she said.
“Don’t touch your hat. Are you a cop, Stephanie?”
“Yes.”
“Peter?”
“No, he’s National Guard.”
“Keep eating. I’m not going to hurt you. If I was a looter,
your gun and food would be more valuable to me than your life. The only thing I
want from you is answers to a couple of questions, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Who are the dead guys?”
“Those were looters.”
“Is that your policy?”
“Yes, shoot on sight.”
“What about your policy for strangers walking into town?”
“We ask you your business. If you’re not looting or looking
for trouble, we let you pass safely. But we can’t give you aid because we’re
running low on everything.”
“What’s the signal for you taking a break?”
“That’s where I have to ask you a question.”
“Okay.”
“What did you do with Kevin?”
“Nothing. Who’s Kevin?”
“The asshole that’s supposed to be watching my back,” said
Stephanie. “He should be at the bottom of the stairs.”
“There’s nobody inside. I walked right up.”
“I’m going to kill him,” said Stephanie. “Well, that’s
unless you kill me first.”
“Turn around,” I said. “I told you that I’m not going kill
you.”
She put down the can, stood up, and turned to face me. I
backed up several feet before I stood upright so Peter couldn’t see me.
Lowering my shotgun, I asked her to wave at him, and hold up five fingers. She
complied and then told me he responded with thumbs up.
“I’m sorry about sneaking up on you,” I said. “The problem
is, I’m a stranger, but I’m not looting and I’m not looking for trouble. What I
am looking for is Cynthia and Erin Jackson.”
“Why are you looking for them?”
“A bit of long story, but the short version is that Bud can’t,”
I said. “They left for supplies five days ago. He hasn’t seen them since. Do
you know the Jacksons?”
“I do,” said Stephanie. “He does…well, did my taxes. He
pretty much does everyone else’s in town, too. He’s a good guy. And yes, we did
see them. They were heading to her parents’ place a couple miles on the other
side of town. I haven’t seen them since.”
“That’s my next stop,” I said.
“We told them to stay there,” said Stephanie. “I know Bud
has some physical limitations, so we told his wife and daughter we’d try to get
to him. Then all hell started breaking loose here. We can’t spare the manpower
right now to escort him across town. To be honest, we kind of forgot about
them.”
“I understand,” I said. “All I need to do is make sure
they’re okay and then let Bud know. I’ll let him figure out how to get there.”
Hearing footsteps coming from the stairwell, I moved to the
side to let Stephanie do the introductions. She had other plans for him. As soon
as he stepped over the tripwire, she caught him on the chin with a right hook.
“What the fuck, Stephanie!” said Kevin, holding his jaw.
“Explain to me how he got up here is what the fuck, Kevin. I
never heard him coming.”
“Good morning,” I said, giving him a salute.
“I was in the bathroom,” said Kevin. “Holy shit, I’m sorry.
Who is he?”
“Someone that easily could’ve killed us both. But lucky for
you, he’s a friend of Bud Jackson’s. He’s looking for Cynthia and Erin.”
“They’re at her parents’ place,” said Kevin, shaking my
hand. “You a cop or something?”
“No, just helping out Bud. He’s not very mobile.”
“No, he ain’t,” said Kevin. “He’s a big one.”
“How much of the town do you control?” I asked.
“This square and everything south to the edge of town,” said
Stephanie. “We don’t have enough guns to watch over the north side. It’s a mess
up there. There’s a group of about thirty or so from Chattanooga trying to get
to our supplies. We have a large food distribution warehouse not far from here.
They’ve been hitting us every night for the past four days. They’re getting stronger
and better organized. We may have to move further south.”
“Any chance I can get an escort through town?” I asked.
“Having to be sneaky slows me down.”
“Kevin would be glad to take you,” said Stephanie. “It’s not
like I need him here watching my back.”
“I’m sorry,” said Kevin. “I really am. It won’t happen
again, I promise.”
“No, it won’t.”
I thanked her, wished her luck, and then Kevin walked me to
the edge of town. I didn’t like the conversation we were having. He told me
about the group holding on to the north side.
“Two nights ago we stopped a young woman who was running
into the square,” said Kevin. “She told us a pretty ugly story we decided not
to spread among the ladies in town.”
“What was her story?”
“Well, she lived in an apartment complex on the north side,”
continued Kevin. “She said an armed group of about twenty or so started kicking
in doors. Most people gave up what they had without a fight. Her husband wasn’t
one of them. She said he shot the first one that came in, but there were just
too many coming up after them. When her husband ran out of bullets, they killed
him and then dragged her out into the street. They handed her over to a guy
named Alex. She thinks he’s the leader.
“She said he was real nice to her at first, apologizing for
killing her husband, and trying to explain what they were doing. He said ‘cause
her husband shot one of their guys, his boys would want revenge on her. You
know, rape and beat her. He said if she was nice to him, he’d give her food and
protection. So she said she was nice to him, if you know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“One night after he finished with her, she saw an
opportunity to run and took it. That’s how she ended up running though the
square.”
The conversation ended when we arrived at Cynthia’s parents’
house. Kevin made the introductions and then headed back to the square. Her
father gave me the news I didn’t want to hear.
They did make it, but barely. When they arrived, Trevor said
they told him about a dead body lying in the street downtown. He pleaded for
them to stay, but Cynthia refused, knowing her husband needed the insulin. They
stayed for one night, leaving early the next morning to return home.
I asked him if they talked about the route they would take
on the trip back to Bud. Trevor said he told them it was too dangerous to go
back through town. He said it was safer to go around. I asked him in what
direction.
He told me they went north.