Apocalypse Asunder (9 page)

Jessica felt her cheeks heating a little further, and spoke quickly; trying to distract herself.  “Well, even though it might be tricky, I want to get south of Tampa and Orlando.  Once we do, there are a lot of big lakes right through the center of the state; including the big one, Okeechobee.”

“Ok . . . Oki . . . Okie what?” Candice stumbled over the unfamiliar word.

“Oak-a-choo-bee.” Jessica said, drawing the syllables out to make the pronunciation more clear for the girl.  “It’s an Indian name.”

“Lake would be a good spot.” Austin nodded.  “Fresh water, maybe some fishing.  I might even remember some of the hunting my dad tried to teach me when I was a kid.”

“You hunted?”

“A few times.” Austin shrugged.  “I’m not so worried about the hunting part as I am the cleaning and dressing part after bagging something.”

“Squeamish?” she asked.

“No, but I have to admit I don’t think I remember much of anything about how to do the butchering.”

“Butchering what?” Candice wanted to know.

“Things I hunt.  So we can eat them.”

“Like what?” Candice persisted.

“Whatever I can get.” Austin said carefully, giving Jessica a quick look.

She understood his reluctance to give a straight answer.  “Candice, you know the food we eat starts out on a farm, right?  Both plants and animals.”

“Right.”

“Well, hunting is when you find an animal that’s not on a farm.”

“Oh.” Candice said.  Jessica was half expecting some sort of distaste or distress over the concept of killing and eating something, but the girl only sounded thoughtful.  After a few moments, Candice shrugged.  “Like birds and stuff?”

“Whatever I can get.” Austin repeated.  “But, like I said, I don’t remember anything about how to handle things after the hunting part.”

“Well, if you’re not too squeamish with it, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Jessica said lightly.

“Oh, that part’s on me is it?” he demanded.

“If I’m doing the cooking part, then yes.” she admitted.  “I know where meat comes from, but I think I’d have to be quite hungry to consider going to work on . . . something with a knife, after the fact.”

“Wimp.”

“Domesticated.” Jessica agreed.  “Cost of living in a civilized society.”

“I’m not so sure how civilized things are anymore.” he replied.

“You’re not wrong.” she sighed.  “Who knows.  Maybe after you’ve brought in a couple of things, I might learn enough to help with the butchering part.”  He burst out laughing, and she gave him a stern look.  “What’s so funny now?”

“I’m just . . . did you ever read the Little House books?”

“What?”

“Little House on the Prairie.” he elaborated.

“Oh.  No, but I watched the show when I was little.” she said, then blinked at him.  “Wait, you read those?”

“Why’s that surprising?”

Jessica eyed him dubiously.  “You’re seven foot a million, built like a linebacker, a soldier, an Army Ranger, a professional bodyguard, and probably know how to kill with your eyelids.  You’ll have to forgive me if I find it odd that you read those books.”

“Why?  You didn’t.”

“I read other things.” she said.

“Like what?”

Jessica blushed again, thinking of the dozens of teenage romance series she’d torn through during middle and high school.  The last time she’d checked, there’d still been box after box of sweet and innocent tales of coming-of-age and school era love in the attic of her parents’ Dalton house.  “Never mind that.”

“Now I’m really curious.” Austin said, clearly amused.

“And I said never mind.” she insisted.

“Well, I read lots of things.  It’s not all that rare for soldiers to read.  You tend to find yourself with idle time when you’re on deployment.  Being in the Army isn’t just shooting and getting shot at.  Sitting around on transports and at bases can get pretty boring if you don’t have a portable hobby.” he said, smiling slyly at her as he let the issue of her own reading habits go.  “But I read the Little House books when I was younger than the girlie-girl here.”

“And what about me made you think of them and laugh?” Jessica persisted.

“It just struck me that if all this chaos goes on long enough, you, me, and a lot of other survivors are probably going to turn into pioneer people.”

“What’s a pioneer person?” Candice asked as Jessica sighed unhappily.

“Austin means we’ll get used to doing things without stores and stuff.” Jessica answered.

“That’s kind of hard.” Candice said solemnly.  She didn’t do a lot of helping with most of the scavenging and chores – because Jessica wouldn’t let her – but she was around for some of it, and she’d seen how hard it was for her mother to gather and carry things like food, water, wood, and anything else that might be needed.

It wasn’t that Jessica didn’t want Candice to help; but she wanted Candice safe more than anything else.  And so far, everywhere they’d gone hadn’t been ‘secured’ behind a safe perimeter, as Austin put it.  Plus, the girl wasn’t strong enough to be a
lot
of help in most of the chores.  She served as an extra set of eyes sometimes, like when Jessica cooked out in the yards of the houses they stayed at; but that was about as far as Jessica was prepared to go.

“It is.” Austin agreed.  “And the longer we do it, the better we’ll get at it.”

“You know, if we get somewhere warm, figuring out how to keep or eat any fresh meat before it spoils is going to be an adventure in and of itself.” Jessica said, wrinkling her forehead in thought.  “There have got to be ways . . . right?”

“I know smoke and salt are what they used before refrigeration became a thing.  But figuring it out . . . I dunno.”

Jessica sighed.  She knew salt had something to do with preserving meat, and smoke rang a bell, but she was in the same boat as Austin about how to do it.  She had no idea what too much of either would do to something – other than too much salt would render it effectively inedible – but she knew pretty much exactly what would happen if they botched up a preservation attempt and ended up with something that was going to cause food poisoning.

That could kill.  And even if it only sickened, that would be dangerous.

“I don’t know either.” she said after a few moments.  “Guess we’ll have to take it slow like everything else.  Maybe that radio broadcast is for real though.” she sighed, struggling to keep the wistful longing from her tone.  “Maybe they’ll be able to clear things up so everyone can start rebuilding.”

“Maybe.  But if they’re serious about spearheading a coordinated sweep of the entire continent, it isn’t going to happen anytime soon.  And they’re all the way up in South Dakota, so however organized they might be, clearing their way from there all the way down to us will take quite a while.” Austin said neutrally.  The look he gave her clearly indicated he wasn’t prepared to hold his breath waiting.  “But back to us, something near a lake in south central Florida.  That’s your plan?”

“That’s my plan.” Jessica confirmed.

“Any thoughts beyond that?”

“Two story house, as close to the water as possible.” she said, thinking.  “A second floor balcony or deck would be nice.  Lots of clear space around it.  Maybe with a town or something no more than a few miles away for supplies.”

“That doesn’t sound too complicated.”

“I hope not.”

“You know, most people don’t retire to Florida until they’re older.”

Jessica eyed him.  “Is that an age joke?”

“No, I’m still young.” he said innocently.

“You’re not that young.” she retorted.

He opened his mouth, his grin twisting a touch malevolently, and she spoke quickly.  “Don’t you dare finish that thought.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“I know what you were thinking.” she told him severely.  She was five years older than Austin, something she’d let slip a few weeks ago when they were chatting idly after Candice had already been asleep.  He’d about – literally, due to his gunshot wounds – split himself open laughing at that, and clearly hadn’t forgotten.

“Okay, so you’re twenty years too early.  Look at it like this; you’ll have plenty of time to practice your shuffleboard before everyone else catches up with you.”

“I’m going to hurt you.” Jessica told him darkly.  “I know where you sleep.”

“You wouldn’t.” he teased.

“Try me.”

* * * * *

“We don’t have to stop here.”

Jessica frowned unhappily as she coasted along the exit ramp.  They were just north of Ocala; probably technically already in the town’s outskirts.  Gainesville had been no problem, but two forced detours since then had sent them back north along I-75 to find alternate routes around massive wrecks that had blocked off the interstate.  That had cost time.  And gas.  She had figured on filling up somewhere around here, but she’d also figured she’d have more than half a tank when she did.

“Jessica?”

She shook herself away from her inspection of the surroundings and glanced at him.  Austin’s expression was serious, and she smiled tightly.  “This doesn’t look that bad.”  Indeed, it was a little cheerier than the area around Valdosta had been; they’d left the sodden looking clouds behind and had clear skies and lots of sun overhead.

Unfortunately that was the extent of the welcome.

“We’re going to have to do some shooting.” he pointed out.

“Probably true anywhere.” she shrugged.  There were nearly thirty zombies in view, and the SUV wasn’t even to the end of the exit ‘ramp’ yet.  It wasn’t a ramp, but it was a long stretch of pavement that was steadily diverging from the interstate as it headed toward the crossroad.  The interstate itself was rising, angling up a steady incline to an overpass that let the surface street cross beneath it.

The good news was this arrangement, different from how Georgia’s interstates were generally laid out, made for lots of clear sightlines.  Not only were they already at the level of the side street, there weren’t the usual thick stands of pine trees and underbrush that were everywhere in Georgia.  As a result, there was plenty of open space around, making it easy to see the walking corpses.  Even for a vaguely rural part of Florida, or at least a lightly urbanized section, the area was not densely packed with buildings or structures.  But it had somehow collected itself a rather unhealthy amount of zombies.

“The last place that was clearly marked for gas was ten miles back.” Jessica said unhappily.  “And we didn’t stop to take a close look at it.  This is doable isn’t it?”

“Probably.” Austin said.  “And we can always pile into the car and take off if we don’t like how things are going.”

Jessica scowled again.  “Let’s just get it over with here.  If we can.”

“Okay, we’ll take it nice and calm then.” he said, racking the bolt on the MP5 back.

“What’s nice and calm in this situation?” she asked, glancing at him as the SUV’s speed fell to just above a walking pace.

“I’d recommend we do a lot of shooting from the car.” he said, hitting the button on the armrest to start his window rolling down.  “You focus on driving, I’ll focus on shooting.”

“How close do you want to get?” she asked, looking around the scene ahead.  The intersecting road was four desolate looking lanes separated by a very thin median of flat grass.  The first handful of zombies were already looking at the approaching vehicle.

“Fifty feet or so.” he said, opening the flap on one of his equipment harness’ pouches.  He tucked the flap behind a row of magazines for the submachine gun, each of them poking up past the top edge of the pouch, so he could get at them more easily.  “When you stop, pull a little curve to the left so I’ve got a clear line of sight.”

“Sounds easy.” she said, pushing her thighs up against the lower half of the steering wheel to hold it steady.  That freed her hands to draw and work the slide on her Taurus, pulling a live round into the chamber.

“It’ll be loud.” he warned.  “I’ll try to hold the gun out the window as much as I can, but it’s going to be loud.”

“Great.  Candice, you hear that?” Jessica asked as Austin produced a pair of bright orange ear plugs from one of the other pockets on his harness.

“Shooting the guns from in here is going to be loud.” she said calmly.

“Loud enough to hurt.” Jessica confirmed.  “Really hurt; as in break your eardrums so you can’t hear anything hurt, understand?  Whatever happens, stay back there and keep your fingers in your ears.  You got that?  Fingers in your ears or you’ll be deaf.”

“Okay.”

“Candice.” she persisted.

“Mom, fingers in my ears.  I got it.” the girl assured her.

Jessica nodded tightly and lowered her own window, then safed and holstered her pistol.  It always made her a little nervous to do that when it was loaded, even though she’d had more experience with the gun in the past two months than she’d ever guessed she’d even come remotely close to.  She knew what the safety did, but she didn’t like having the gun only a trigger pull away from going off.

But she figured if she needed it during this stop, she might not want to need to take the time to rack the slide on the pistol.  Not liking it didn’t factor in except that it made her uncomfortable.  Discomfort she’d get over.  The consequences of
needing
the gun and not having it ready in time would likely be a lot more permanent.

Looking around the interior of the SUV, she took a paper napkin from the thick sheaf in the center console’s compartment.  Tearing it in two, she rolled the halves into cylinders and stuffed them into her own ears.  She didn’t expect it would help a lot, but it should cut the worst of the impact from slamming directly into her eardrums.

“Ready?” she asked loudly when she finished.  Austin already had his orange plugs in place.  He gave her a thumbs  up.  She nodded and hit the accelerator.  The SUV picked up a little speed, but she held it to twenty.  Austin settled himself against the door and open window as she eyed the zombies, judging the distance.  When she was close enough, she swung the SUV to the left and braked smoothly.

Austin fired barely a second after she halted.  He was right – it was loud – but the windows and her makeshift ear plugs helped.  Especially the open windows.  There was no way she’d open the ones in the back; not with Candice back there.  But the lowered driver’s window gave the sound somewhere to exit, rather than continuing to bounce around the vehicle’s interior.

Though he was hurt and not up to his full strength, there was nothing wrong with Austin’s basic marksmanship skills.  At least, not that she could tell.  And he didn’t even have to kneel or sit flat on the ground; here he had a nice comfortable passenger seat to sit in.  He worked his way through the closest zombies methodically, hardly seeming to pause, and not taking more than two shots for each.

The zombies tangled others near and behind them when they took bullets to the head; causing those to stagger and stumble.  Some even went down.  The heads bobbed and wove as they teetered and toppled, but the MP5 in Austin’s hands spat out rounds steadily regardless of what the targets were doing.  From this distance it wasn’t a complete horror show, seeing what the bullets did, but she’d seen enough to fill the gaps in.  Actually seeing it wasn’t necessary.

She knew how gruesome it could get.  A little distance was nice for a change.  What mattered was the way was being cleared, the threats eliminated.  As soon as the closest creatures were down, she got the SUV moving again.  She tried to avoid the worst of the carnage, but she still winced a little and forced herself to not think about what was happening beneath the heavy vehicle’s wheels as they ran over zombie bodies and crushed them into the pavement.

The signs back on I-75 had indicated there were at least three gas stations at this exit, but she saw one only a block to the right.  The others must be on the east side of the interstate, which put them behind the raised bridge that I-75 ran over the cross-road on.  She went with the close station, the one already in view; turning right and heading toward it.

Another stop in the middle of the intersection, then again just short of the station, gave Austin a chance to shoot another dozen and a half zombies.  He produced a couple boxes of bullets from one of his pouches and gestured toward the gas station parking lot.  “Pull in, roll up the windows, and wait near the front curb.”

“Draw them away from the store?” Jessica guessed, eying the still dozen strong grouping of zombies in and around the front parking lot.

“And the pumps.” Austin nodded as he opened one of the boxes and ejected the magazine from his weapon.  “Better safe than sorry.”

Jessica hit the buttons that raised the windows before rolling the SUV from the road to the station’s lot.  Austin stuffed bullets into the magazine while she watched the zombies wrench themselves around and stagger after the SUV.  He got the magazine reloaded and reinserted into the MP5 long before the closest of the zombies could get near the vehicle.  She let the zombies get within a few steps, then pulled away, heading for the rear of the property.

It was a large gas station, one specifically designed to service the interstate’s traffic.  The pumps closest to the road were normal ones, laid out and arranged identically to most any other gas station she was familiar with.  Further back from the road were ones set up for fueling semi-trucks, with oversized awnings and plenty of room for the large vehicles to maneuver.  Dividing the two halves of the fueling operation was an equally oversized convenience store.

Taking advantage of the space behind the store, Jessica led the clustering pack of zombies well clear of the semi-truck pumps.  Austin finished loading his second empty magazine with fresh bullets and dumped the remaining loose bullets from the box into the pouch with the magazines.  The empty boxes he tossed on the floorboard.

When she was almost out of pavement, she swung the SUV around so Austin could face the hungry horrors once more.  Lowering his window again, he opened up with the MP5, spacing his shots quickly and calmly across the pursing zombies.  Jessica lowered hers as well and sat with her foot on the brake, cringing a little under the aural assault, until the last creature finally dropped.

“That it?” she asked loudly, looking around carefully.  There were still zombies in view, but they were all out past the road.  And it was only a handful or so.

“For the moment.” he shrugged, pulling out another box of bullets.  “Let’s not waste a lot of time though.”

“Agreed.” she said, accelerating back around to the front of the store.  She spotted the metal covers on the underground tanks and parked with the SUV’s rear cargo door right next to them.  “Candice, watch from inside the car.  You can sit up front so you can honk the horn if you see anything, but stay in the car.”  As she spoke, she was raising the windows again.  The whole point of all this was to protect Candice.  Leaving the windows down would not help that goal.

“Keep an eye on the front for me.” Austin said as Jessica shut the SUV’s engine off and pocketed the keys.  “I’ll cover the back and sides.”

“You’re going to watch mom?” Candice asked as she leaned forward into the space between the seats.

“Yup.”

“Good.” the girl said, sounding relieved.

“Yes, good.” Jessica muttered, looking around outside the windows before hitting the button that popped the rear hatch open.  It clicked, ready to be lifted.  She didn’t see anything close enough to be a danger, so she opened the driver’s door and stepped out with her hand on the holstered pistol’s grip.

Without pausing, she moved ten feet from the SUV and looked quickly beneath it, then straightened and turned in place for a slightly slower three-sixty scan.  Eight zombies in view, some close enough to be a problem in another twenty or thirty seconds, but as she looked she heard the MP5 crack off a pair of rounds.  The first zombie folded to the ground as its face crumped inward.

“Very good.” she muttered, leaving her pistol in its holster and hastening around to the back of the vehicle.  Lifting the hatch, she quickly unfastened the cords securing the empty gas cans in place.  She had them freed in seconds, lined up on the pavement almost as quickly, and the tools she’d need for the refueling in hand a few moments after that.

Austin had not been standing idly while she got ready; he’d shot his way through the remaining close zombies.  She ignored the shots, trusting that he or Candice would warn her if something went wrong.  The towels went down next to the tank’s cap, then she dropped down on her knees atop them and used the big screwdriver to lever the lid up enough for her fingers to fit beneath it.  Pulling it up, she dropped it out of the way and looked inside.  There was a shimmer liquid visible in the afternoon sun.

Jessica opened the gas cans up, set the makeshift funnel into one of them, then grabbed for the paint can.  First she tied the very end of the rope around her wrist, then got started.  After feeding the can down into the storage tank, she hauled it back up steadily and took a look at the fuel; reminding herself to be careful as she checked it.  Pouring diesel into the SUV’s tank would seriously screw them all over.  None of them, especially not her, knew the first thing about how to fix the car if the engine got corrupted with the wrong kind of fuel.

The liquid looked and smelled like gas to her; with the distinctive aroma she was familiar with.  She spilled a little on a patch of reasonably clean concrete pavement nearby and examined it further, but she saw no dark stains or coloration in it to make her change her mind.  It was gas.

Emptying it into the first of the waiting gas cans, she fell into the pattern of lowering and lifting.  Lower the paint can into the tank on the end of the rope, wait for the can to fill and grow heavy, then haul it back up without letting it swing or sway.  When it was out of the underground tank, pour off the gas into one of the cans, then repeat.  The SUV’s gauge was a little below half at the moment, so she had some work to do..