Into the Badlands (22 page)

“I think we’ll stay here for tonight,” he replied, looking at Brenda for approval. She nodded in agreement.

“I have to check on my kids,” Ed said.

They all decided to stay one more night. As late as it was, and with all the shooting, Ed decided it would be safer to stay in the relative safety of the warehouse. It was better than facing carriers at night, anyway.

Dave and the girls also decided to stay one more night. Mitchell seemed pleased to have his guests stay on for a while longer. The men took on the gruesome task of removing the carrier bodies from the warehouse and dumping them behind the building near a dumpster. In a rare event Ed left the boys with Trish to help dispose of the bodies. He trusted Trish, so he felt a little less trepidation at the thought.

Night fell shortly after they disposed of the bodies. Both groups alternated guard duty amongst themselves, but no more carriers showed up inside the warehouse. Early in the morning they heard one scream from outside, but it never made an appearance inside the building.

Ed swapped guard duty with Trish right after the scream awakened her. He caught four solid hours of dreamless sleep and now felt like a new man. He was also excited about getting back on track.

The next day came as expected, but no one left. They searched for more supplies, repacked what they had, ate hot dinners, and talked afterward. They all decided it was too late to leave that day, and rescheduled their departures for the following day.

The following day it rained, harder than ever, setting them back from their respective schedules. More food, more discussion, and another dry, safe night presented itself. They spent considerable time talking after dinner, with the exception of Tammy, who sat speechless for long periods, mostly looking at the floor or off into the distance.

Two days turned into three, then three into four. Ed knew what was happening; they were indulging in the creature comforts and the company the warehouse provided. And who could blame them? It might be a temporary respite, but it was a respite all the same. Ed felt they deserved a few breaks after all they'd been through.

Ed was beginning to like Dave. Dave was a natural leader; after all, he'd led his wife and friend for years before their unfortunate deaths. As the days passed Dave's began to regain his self-confidence, and Ed began to see the person Dave really was. He also saw the same characteristics in Brenda. What he found surprising was how well Dave and Brenda got along, almost co-leading their small group.

Tammy, however, was still a mystery. She rarely spoke, choosing to spend most of her days alone. He noticed Brenda make efforts to include her in conversations and duties, but to no avail. When she did join in it was half-hearted and short-lived. The strain on the relationship was obvious, and relationships like that had the potential to become explosive.

Ten days after their arrival at the warehouse Ed found himself lying in their usual shelf with Trish, the boys wrapped in their sleeping bags beside them. They spoke quietly in the darkness about trivial things, just passing the time and enjoying each others company.

“We've been here a while,” he said.

“Yeah. It's been nice,” she replied.

“It has. We're going to have to leave soon, you know.”

Trish paused, thinking. “Couldn't we stay a little longer?”

“We could, but it couldn't be long. The longer we stay, the longer it delays us from the city.”

“The city is no guarantee of safety.”

“I know, but neither is this warehouse,” he replied.

“But there's so much here. Seems like it would last for some time.”

“I suppose it would for a while. Eventually it'll run out. There's only so much bottled water and packaged food. This place will get sweltering in the summer, which is just around the corner. Maybe it'll buy a group our size several months, just long enough to bring us into the winter while we're on the road.”

“I guess you're right,” Trish agreed, “but I don't like it.”

“I don't either,” he replied. “I don't either.”

“We're leaving tomorrow,” Ed said to the group over breakfast. Ed had already told the boys when they awoke. They were disappointed, but understood all too well that it was time. It was ingrained in their belief system,despite how young they were.

The rest of the group paused, obviously affected by the news. Mitchell spoke up first. “I hate to see you folks leave, but I know you've gotta be moving on.” He walked to Ed, reached out his hand and shook it firmly. He then gave Trish a hug.

“Take the rest of the day to prepare yourselves, restock supplies and the like. And make sure those kids get those chocolate bars,” Mitchell said, smiling. Both the boys smiled back . He knelt down closer to them. “You boys mind your dad and do what he says now, you hear me?” Both Zach and Jeremy nodded.

“We're indebted to your hospitality and generosity,” Ed replied. Beside him was a new larger backpack, filled with the additional supplies they'd procured from the warehouse. “These supplies are critical for us.”

“Don't mention it. It's nice for an old man to get some company from time to time. If you don't mind me asking, where are you folks headed? I mean, in the long run.” Trish looked at Ed. He paused for a moment, and then answered Mitchell's question.

“A safe haven.”

After dinner, while Ed and his group were packing, Dave sat with Brenda and Tammy. No one spoke as they watched Ed and his group inventory their supplies and prepare for their departure the following day.

Eventually Dave spoke. “I'm going to say what everybody's probably thinking; I like them,and I hate to see them go.”

Brenda sighed. “I guess I do to.”

There was no reply from Tammy. Both Dave and Brenda turned to look at her, as if expecting answer.

“What?” she replied.

“What do you think?” Brenda asked, the tone of her voice hinting at frustration. She was becoming more and more annoyed each day with her friend's sulking.

“They're alright,” she answered, begrudgingly. “The kids are nice.”

“Yeah,” Dave commented. “Ed's a stand-up kinda guy.” He paused for another moment, still watching the flurry of activity surrounding their new acquaintances' planned departure. “We should go with them,” he suggested on a whim, half-expecting to be immediately shot down.

“Why?” Tammy replied.

“Now she speaks,” Brenda chided. Tammy shot her a dirty look.

“Well, why not,” Dave offered. “They're good people, and they're headed somewhere, at least.”

“Where?” Tammy replied sarcastically. “A 'safe haven'? Where the fuck is that?”

Dave closed his eyes. “You got a better plan?” he asked. Tammy didn't respond, choosing instead to stare at the floor.

“He might be onto something, Tammy,” Brenda said. “Where are we headed after this? We can't say here forever, it's not feasible and it's not fair to Mitchell. Where are we gonna go after this?”

“Back on the road, like before,” Tammy replied.

“I'm not sure I want that anymore,” Brenda stated flatly. She glanced at Dave. He didn't notice implication, but Tammy did.

“Fine,” Tammy replied. “Whatever you want.”

Brenda looked at Tammy, ready to respond. She decided it wouldn't do any good and kept her mouth shut. Tammy was stubborn, but eventually she'd come around.

“Want me to talk to Ed about it?” Dave asked the girls.

“Sure,” Brenda replied. “Doesn't hurt to ask.”

“So what do you think?” Dave asked, standing in front of Ed. Trish and the boys were nearby, packing.

“I don't know, man, I hadn't really thought about that,” Ed replied cautiously.

“I know it's out of the blue, but I'd like you to consider it. There's strength in numbers, you know,” he said, smiling.

Ed nodded. “How about you give us some time to discuss it?”

“Fair enough. I'll go tell the girls.”

“Maybe it is a good idea,” Trish mused as they packed their things in preparation for their departure. “More people could give us an advantage.”

“More mouths to feed too,” Ed retorted.

“True, but they're the types to fend for themselves.”

“Maybe.”

“And they can go their own way if it doesn't work out. They have to agree to that.”

Ed nodded, thinking. He could see the advantages of traveling with Dave and the girls. There were also risks. They seemed trustworthy enough; after all, if they were planning something they had already had almost two weeks in which to do it.

And there was a sort of kindred spirit Ed thought he shared with Dave. Ed thought he could prove to be a real asset. Brenda could hold her own as well, and turned out to be reasonably personable once he'd gotten to know her. The wildcard was Tammy; quiet, despondent, depressed Tammy. Ed didn't think she was dangerous, but he had his doubts how helpful she would be. She was part of the package though, should he agree.

“I trust them, Ed,” Trish continued. After what she'd been through Ed knew that counted for a lot.

“Okay,” he said. “I'll tell them to get to packing.”

The following day they all stood by the front doors to the Sam's Club warehouse that Mitchell Burdette called home. Everyone carried a backpack chock full of supplies gathered from the shelves. They had gained a small amount of weight and the color of their skin was turning from corpse-gray to a more natural living-pink.

“I hate to see you folks go,” Mitchell began, “but I understand.”

“We really owe you one,” Dave told him. “You really helped us out.”

“Absolutely,” Brenda added.

“Don't mention it,” Mitchell replied. “I just happened upon an empty warehouse. It's hard to say you shared what wasn't yours in the first place.”

“You took us in, maybe even saved our lives,” Trish said. “Don't underestimate how important that is.”

“I'm just doing the Lord's work here on Earth.”

“Maybe,” Ed began, “but we're grateful to you all the same. Are you sure you don't want to come with us?”

“Naw. My place is here. One old man can live for a long time on this. Besides, who knows what new friends might be strolling down that highway right now? I'd hate to leave an empty building; that's not much of a welcome.”

“Understood. Boys, it's time to tell Mitchell goodbye.”

Zach and Jeremy both ran to Mitchell, each hugging one of his legs. He patted them on the heads. “Thank you!” they both yelled in near-unison.

“You're welcome, boys. It was a pleasure making your acquaintance.” They both released his legs, then ran back to Ed and Trish.

Mitchell looked at Tammy. She was standing off the side, slightly away from the group, staring out the front doors. He walked to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. She jumped a bit, then turned around. To everyone's surprise he pulled her close and hugged her. She resisted at first, then her body relaxed.

“Stay strong,” he whispered in her ear. “This too, shall pass.”

Mitchell watched the group, now almost double in size, as they walked away from the building, through the parking lot, and back onto the highway. They became small dots in the distance before eventually disappearing altogether. He stood there for some time, watching the empty road, as the cool spring wind blew over his bearded face.

He missed them already.

CHAPTER 16

In another time not so long ago the highway would have been full of cars and trucks traveling across a country ripe with prosperity. Carloads of people on their way to see friends and relatives, or maybe moving to a new city for opportunity. Cars containing families traveling across the country to see the Grand Canyon, or the Rocky Mountains, or maybe headed to a sandy beach to bask in the glow of the hot summer sun.

Now the highway was silent and still. It was littered with motionless cars, many still containing the decayed bodies of their owners. These people had been infected with the worst virus humankind had ever seen. Instead of driving for a weekend getaway they were fleeing for their lives. Unfortunately for them there would be no outrunning the virus.

Ed walked beside his two sons along the highway, a roadway with which they were already so familiar. Trish walked beside them, the portrait of a survivor. Now they traveled with some new companions; another group of hardened survivors which, through destiny, fate, or luck, had crossed paths with Ed and his sons.

They walked for two days, speaking very little. There was little to say on the road. The scenery didn't change much and the road was the same monotonous stretch of concrete for miles and miles on end. Ed could barely believe that he was now traveling with four other people. He always imagined the trip would be made with only his boys. Life was always throwing curve balls.

On the second night since leaving Mitchell's warehouse they camped just off the highway, in the midst of brown cornstalks. The ground was rough, but it was also secluded. Everyone was asleep, save for Ed and Dave. They sat in the quiet darkness of a world nearly devoid of homosapiens - at least the version nature had produced - listening to crickets chirping in the wind amidst the sound of their own thoughts bouncing in their heads.

Dave spoke, breaking the strange silence. “It's killing me, so I gotta ask. Where exactly are we headed?”

Ed thought for a moment before answering. “A safe haven,” he replied.

Dave chuckled in the darkness. “Yeah, I know that. Mr. Cryptic strikes again. For real, where is this 'safe haven' exactly.”

Ed considered the question and the implications of answering truthfully. He had agreed to travel with Dave and his group, so he should be able to trust them, right? And what exactly would befall them if he didn't keep it a secret? Probably nothing. Keeping it a secret might actually work to his disadvantage breeding distrust amongst their new traveling partners. Not a good idea when they might be relying on each other for their lives.

“Saint Louis,” he answered.

“Hmmm. St. Louis, huh? What's in Saint Louis,” Dave asked.

“Salvation, I hope.”

“Based on what? Anything reliable, or just a hunch? I thought all the cities had gone to the deadwalkers.”

“Me too, but then I heard a transmission over citizen's band a couple years back. It was garbled, but I believe it was a call to all uninfected. A message to tell others there was a place to go, a place that was safe.”

“You're sure about this?”

“No, not exactly. Like I said, the message was garbled. I heard something about 'Saint Louis' and 'safe haven' with some static in between.”

“So that's where you've been headed all this time? Traveling on faith in a broken radio transmission?”

“In a word, yes. As far as faith, I'm not sure how much of that I have left. I guess I have faith in the idea that we'll never give up, and we won't sit around just waiting to die.”

“Fair enough,” Dave replied. He thought for a moment, then looked around at Brenda and Tammy. They were sleeping along with the rest of the group. “These girls, before they met me at least, they just walked. I don't think they knew or cared where they were headed. Maybe I'm the same way; back when I was traveling with my wife and our friend we had no destination. We just survived from day to day. That was our only real goal.”

He paused again, taking a deep breath. The crickets had ratcheted up their song, the distinct calls blending into a strange and beautiful cacophony of sounds. He continued. “I think I might like to find a place to stop now. I'm getting tired of running. Plus, I've never seen the Arch.”

Ed laughed out loud, in spite of himself, causing Zach to stir in his sleep. “Maybe we'll take a trip to the top when we get there,” he replied, smiling. “I hear the line's really short now.”

Two men, who two weeks ago had been ready to kill each other, sat together in the murky darkness, listening to the ornate and complicated sound of Nature's nocturnal symphony. Whether they believed in the safe haven or not, they both agreed that there was a chance it was true, and the risks were worth taking in order to find out.

Dave told Brenda and Tammy of their destination the following day. Tammy was nonplussed, Brenda a little surprised. She was slightly hesitant at first, but after some consideration figured that St. Louis was as good a place as any. She was willing to take the chance at least, and if it was a bust then she planned to just keep walking. Provided she stayed alive, of course.

So the group continued to walk, heading west toward their destination. They walked through the day and slept in shifts at night. It became their routine. When it rained they hunkered down under a thin sheet of plastic to stay dry. At night Ed would sit with both the boys and talk about the city.

Eventually they began passing road signs for Saint Louis along the way, and both boys pointed and shouted when they saw them. It made Ed smile, but it was a cautious smile. His suspicions of a very real possibility of a city overrun with carriers returned. He ignored them as best he could.

Their food supplies were holding out; they'd stocked up nicely back at Mitchell's and it was paying off. Of course it would run out, but they were still at least a couple weeks out from having to stop for more. The less often they had to stop for food the better, as far as Ed was concerned.

Due to the Spring rains, finding fresh water was relatively easy. Streams and creeks ran about all over, ripe for filling canteens. The longer they walked, however, the rains tapered off and the streams subsided; larger streams were reduced significantly in size and many smaller streams disappeared altogether. It became more difficult to find water easily, and their canteens began to run dry more often than they were comfortable with.

Twelve days from leaving Mitchell's warehouse the group's canteens ran dry. They walked for another day after that, sipping from whatever shallow puddles they could find, but there were no streams in sight. They were also between exits, so it was impossible to scavenge for bottled water at any stores. Their thirst grew as they expended energy, and eating dried supplies replenished virtually none of the water they were losing.

After spending another dry night along the roadside they got up the following morning to a very warm day. Spring was nearing its end and summer would soon follow. The hot sun made day travel very difficult, so Ed wanted to make as much progress as possible while the weather was still mild.

“We need water,” Trish told him, flatly.

“I know, I know” he told her.

A few hours later they ran across a farm house sitting in a field about a hundred yard or so from the highway. Ed signaled for the group to stop, then pointed at the house. They stopped, their gaze following his finger.

“We need water,” Ed said to the group, “and we need it soon.”

“Tell me about it,” Brenda replied.

“This farmhouse might have some. It might even have a well, possibly a cistern.”

“Like the last one did?” Zach asked. “With the pump around back?”

“Yeah, buddy. Exactly.”

“After the last time I'm a little leery,” Trish admitted. “It's giving me the creeps.”

“But we're dying here,” Brenda argued.

“I know, but it still gives me the creeps,” Trish insisted.

Brenda continued. “I say we go check it out.”

“What do you think, Ed?” Dave asked.

Ed stared at the house in the distance. Something about it seemed...wrong. It gave him the creeps too. But he wrote his hesitation off to bad history; after all, they had almost died in the last farmhouse. Odds were though that this house was likely to be empty, and to pass it up would be foolish. They needed the water, after all, they all were becoming dehydrated and weak. Their heads pounded with thirst and their mouths felt like they were lined with sandpaper.

He decided he was making a big deal out of nothing. “Sure,” he replied. It was only afterward, when he thought back on it, that he knew his instincts had been right all along.

By then, however, it was too late.

They approached the front of the house after crossing the overgrown property in front of it. A dirt and gravel road led to the modest house. The road was well on its way to become overgrown with vegetation, but was still clear enough for them to make their way on without too much effort. Ed looked around, nervously, his hand resting on the butt of his pistol. He did this without even noticing it, as was often the case.

They stopped in front of the house, looking for movement. They saw none. A stone path led to the front steps, and a porch swing hung from the roof of the porch, its painted surface peeling along the edges.

Brenda turned to Ed and the boys. “Zach, you said something about an outside pump around the back-”

Suddenly the right side of Brenda's head exploded in a red mist as the crack of a shot rang out. She dropped hard to the ground, landing in a lifeless heap.

“Get down!” Ed yelled, grabbing both boys and pulling them backward, toward the overgrown vegetation beside the road to the house. Trish ran with them, ducking behind the tall grass and weeds. Another shot rang out, echoing into the distance.

Tammy turned to where Brenda had stood just moments before. “No!” she screamed in agony. “Brenda!”

“Tammy, get down!” Dave yelled, running toward the high weeds. “Get the fuck down!” She continued to stand where she was, as if in a daze.

“Move!” Ed yelled to her. She wasn't listening. He drew his pistol and pointed it toward the house, firing a shot. He didn't even know where to shoot since he had no real idea where the shots were coming from. He hoped it would create a distraction and buy her some time to get her wits about her and take cover.

Finally she began to move. She backed away from Brenda's body, shaking her head. Ed fired one more shot in an attempt to cover her escape. She stood there, shaking her head, eyes still locked on Brenda's motionless body.

Ed looked up from the weeds toward the house and noticed movement in a downstairs window. A man with a rifle rose and took aim.

“In the window!” he screamed, firing a shot toward the figure. The man ducked back inside.

“No, no, no, no,” Tammy repeated, still shaking her head in disbelief. She then looked up, as if coming out of a daze.

“Move your ass!” Dave yelled, remembering ironically that Brenda had once uttered the same phrase to him not so long ago. Tammy turned toward Dave and ran, jumping into the grass in which he hid.

“She's dead,” she told him. She looked distant and stunned.

“I know,” he replied. They were unable to move; pinned down by the sniper's gunfire. He wanted to call out to Ed, but he was afraid of giving away their location. They were on their own, for better or worse.

“We're stuck,” he whispered. “That mother fucker has us pinned down.”

Tammy nodded, still in a fog.

“You gotta focus. We're not getting out of here until that guy is dead.”

Tammy nodded again.

“Do you understand me? Shoot that fucking guy, or give me the gun.”

She seemed to be slowly coming back. “I'll do it,” she said.

“Good. I'll get his attention; when he shows himself I want you to blow his fucking brains out. Can you do that?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure.”

Dave nodded in acknowledgment, then swallowed hard. He scoped out the window to see if the sniper was taking aim. He saw no one in the window. He took a deep breath, then raised up on his knees, yelling. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!,” he screamed. He saw the sniper take position in the window, setting Dave in his sights.

Tammy also saw the man come into view. She had the rifle trained on the window already, just waiting on him to come into view. She saw a scope on the man's rifle, a luxury she didn't have. She lined up the front sight with divot on the rear sight, then exhaled half the air in her lungs. She watched as the man took his position on the window sill, gun aimed. The world grew silent; her senses cleared and sharpened, and she and the target became the only things left in the world. She gently squeezed the trigger.

The gun recoiled against her shoulder, quickly jolting her out of her focused trance. The shooter, less than a seconds placing his finger on the trigger, jerked as the bullet struck him in the chest, then slumped forward and lay motionless on the windowsill.

Dave hunkered back down in the weeds. He couldn't be sure there was only one shooter, so he needed to tell Ed to stay put. “Stay there!” he called out to Ed, unable to see him in the thick weeds. Ed didn't reply, but stayed put. They waited this way for at least another five minutes. To Dave it seemed like an eternity. The only sound was the wind blowing wind chimes behind the house. No other shooters appeared.