Revelations - 02 (43 page)

“You leave my dad alone!” Ronni barged past Chad. “He hasn’t hurt anybody and my momma says that whore,” her hand thrust out towards Kimberly holding a large knife, “she did what she did ‘cause my daddy left her for another woman.”

Glenn and the other two men that had argued with him went for their guns. Glenn recovered first. “Whoa there, Missy,” he said, gesturing for the others to come off their guns. “Let’s put down the knife.”

“Then you get that woman and you get away from us. My daddy is leavin’ this place and you can’t come,” Ronni shrieked, tears running down her face.

“Here’s how it’s gonna work,” Scott stepped past Ronni. “A group of us are leaving here in about an hour. Anybody who has a problem with this guy,” he tilted his head toward Chad, “it’s simple. Don’t come. Me, I’m for getting’ away from Modesto and the populated areas like he says. That seems a smart and sensible idea. Come. Don’t come. I don’t care. But anybody tries to stop
us
from leavin’…well…there’s likely to be some shootin’.”

Chad noticed for the first time that everybody who’d escaped from the FEMA center had gathered around; many were holding weapons. There was a long tense silence. Then, people started drifting to stand around Chad, Ronni, Brett, and Scott. Not all of them, but a good majority.

Eventually, a group of nineteen men, women and children began packing up all their stuff. Within an hour they were on the move, leaving behind the eleven that chose to stay. There’d been a couple of shoulder bumps and one nose-to-nose face-off, but other than that, the groups separated cleanly.

“Last chance!” Chad stopped and faced the cluster of angry faces watching them leave. He scanned every person, making eye contact with each one. “I really think you’re all making a mistake staying here…it’s too close to town.”

17

Geek Girl

“Get up, Kevin,” Heather urged.

The pitch-black darkness made it impossible to tell if he was responding to her gentle shaking. She patted his cheek a few times. Another barrage of distant gunfire made her jump.

Kevin did as she asked. There it was. Distant, but very recognizable gunfire. And, from the sounds, there was a lot. Every so often it was punctuated by an explosion.

He attempted to sit up…very slowly. His head still thundered and there was a considerable amount of pain throughout his body. However…

“Did you take a bath or something?” Kevin asked. “You smell really good. Not…dirty or sweaty. I’m not sayin’—”

“Hush,” Heather slapped him on the arm. “And yes, I did clean up. I changed clothes. Also…I sorta cleaned you up, too.” That last statement came out in a rush of words almost too fast to follow.

The realization of what she said sank in, Kevin was grateful for the darkness because he felt his skin flush with heat. He allowed his consciousness to drift and do a bit of a self-scan.
Yes, he did feel cleaner
. There was something wrapped around his head. And…was he wearing boxers?

“So what do we do?” Heather asked, hearing a series of explosions happen in quick succession.

“I’m gonna try standing first,” Kevin said. “You need to find anything good for carrying and we will search the home …find some food, and if we’re lucky, weapons.”

“You mean the two shotguns and the five boxes of shells I’ve got sitting on the table out in the hall, and the big carry bag full of softball equipment that I dumped out and filled with food?”

“Good for you, Heather,” Kevin said, admiration clear in his voice.

“You said we need to always plan for every event quickly.” Heather felt her cheeks tighten with a huge grin. “I decided that while you slept, I needed to make sure we were ready to go if we had to run out of here in a hurry.”

“And you did a great job,” Kevin said, sitting up slowly. “All we need is some water and—”

“I have four canteens full, too,” Heather cut him off in her excitement. “Only, I couldn’t find any of those purifying filtered pitchers. And they didn’t have that much bottled water to begin with so I used most of it filling the canteens and the rest when I woke you each hour to drink something.”

“You woke me each hour?” Kevin asked, not recalling one single time.

“Yeah, Cary said it was important not to let you sleep long, but he wasn’t sure why…or how long. So I just woke you up every time the wind-up timer dinged,” Heather explained.

Kevin struggled to sit fully upright. Reaching over, he clasped Heather’s shoulders, “You did great.” Using her to help himself stay steady without trying to look like it, he climbed to his feet. Something felt weird.

“Well,” Kevin started pulling on the first boot, “they might’ve rolled into that Heath mob, which is my hope because it could be more than they can deal with.” He grabbed the other boot. “Or, they could be mowing down everything in their path hoping to flush something out.”

“Like what?” Heather handed Kevin the shotgun as he stood.

“Us.” Kevin checked the weapon, ensuring that there was one in the chamber and that the safety was off.

Heather slung her shotgun over her shoulder along with the canteens. Kevin reached for the bag, but Heather put her hand on his arm. “Are you gonna be okay?”

Kevin considered how he felt.
Terrible
. But he certainly felt like he could walk. Hopefully there wouldn’t be the need to run…much. There was only one thing truly troubling him: he couldn’t remember a damn thing about today. In fact, he wasn’t entirely certain it’d only been one day. He remembered the plan, and apparently they’d put it into motion. There were flashes of images and he knew Cary was gone…he’d been there or close by when Cary died.

“Kevin?” Heather asked again.

“I’ll be fine.” He chased away the echo of a scream that rattled around in his mind.

Down the stairs they went, Kevin leading the way. They moved through the house and out the back door. The distant sound of gunfire suddenly sounded much closer. There was no sign of movement in the yard.

“Okay,” Kevin looked south towards the glow that would be Heath, “we’re gonna head north.”

“Don’t you want to get the van?”

“No…that makes it too easy for them to spot us. Staying on foot works to our advantage. Allows us to stay hidden,” Kevin explained. He stopped suddenly.
What was that noise.
Dropping the bag, he began walking towards the long building way across the open yard.

“No…that’s because you hear the flies,” Heather managed as she tried to chase away the images from when she’d ventured out and looked through one of the dirty windows. There’d been enough sunlight for her to see. So many huge, bloated bodies. Most had already burst. Dark swarms flew around, sometimes allowing a view of a white, wriggling mass of what she immediately knew to be maggots burrowing into the spilled guts of all the dead dairy cows.

“Nasty,” Kevin breathed. He walked back and grabbed the long, zippered sports-equipment bag. Together, they walked down the gravel driveway that led to the street out front. “Stay in the middle of the road,” he explained. “That will give us the best reaction time if any zombies show up. If you hear anything that sounds like an engine, dive into the nearest ditch or clump of bushes.”

“Okay,” Heather said.



The shooting had slowly faded. Partially due to becoming less frequent, and partially, Kevin hoped, due to the distance they were putting between themselves and what must be Shaw and his men. Deep down, he hoped that they were all dead. He knew better than to bank on that much luck. From the sounds he’d heard, as well as the impression Shaw gave that night at the RV Park, this was a mercenary-style army.

“How you doing?” Kevin asked as he climbed a small berm. A dirt road ran alongside a set of train tracks. Taking a look around, he was satisfied that there was nothing nearby. Well…nothing too dangerous at any rate. Dark shapes loomed to their left, the silhouettes of suburbia: strip malls, schools, chain restaurants, neat blocks of cookie-cutter houses. To the right, lots of open terrain, and somewhere he could hear and smell water.

“The entire population of my hometown wants to eat me alive, crazy people with guns want to shoot me…or worse,” Heather paused. “Hmmm. Yeah, I’m doin’ fine.”

“You wanna tell me where this new attitude is comin’ from?” Kevin stopped, turning to face the girl trudging along the train tracks about ten feet behind him.

Heather came to a halt, feet planted firmly two railroad ties away from Kevin. “I’m tired, I hurt in places I never knew the body actually could. My hometown, the place I lived my whole life, is burned to the ground. I had to beat the head in on one of the nicest ladies in, like, the whole universe. Then, because I wasn’t paying attention, her husband, the man who taught my Girl Scout troop how to churn real butter almost got me. So I beat his head in, too. And it’s not ever gonna be normal again…ever.”

Kevin heard the pain in the girl’s voice, and the battle she was having with keeping the tears at bay while she spoke. A voice in his head urged him to give her a hug. He wanted to, but…

“I know things are looking bad right now,” Kevin said, fidgeting with uncertainty. He set down the huge carry-bag and approached Heather. His mind warred with which arm should go high, which low, and actually switched them twice before reaching them around her. Careful to ensure there was no bodily contact from the waist down, he hunched a bit and patted her stiffly on the back. His hand felt the ridge of a bra strap and he quickly adjusted upwards to ensure his hand was no longer touching her undergarments.

Heather stood still, conscious of the man’s awkwardness. This was undoubtedly the most uncoordinated, non-comforting hug she’d ever experienced. “I appreciate the sentiment, Kevin,” she said into the collar of his flannel shirt.

They stood for another endlessly uncomfortable moment before Kevin straightened and extracted himself from the young girl’s flaccid embrace. He leaned over to grab the bag when he heard it and froze.

“What?” Heather hissed, her head looking around, instantly aware of Kevin’s reaction.

“Hear that?” he breathed.

Heather tilted her head, straining to hear whatever had caused Kevin’s sudden change. Already he’d ducked down to his haunches, the shotgun in hand. Then she heard it. Well off to the left, but heading their direction…engines.

Kevin heard what sounded like a single vehicle race past in the distance. It was moving fast. He scanned, trying to catch a glimpse, but there were too many obstacles between them and the main road. The squeal of tires carried, then gunshots, followed by what was likely the vehicle peeling out. He could hear other vehicles now, but they were someplace else. Looking back down the railroad tracks, far off in the distance, the flash of headlights crossed the tracks. His best guess was that he was headed slightly northeast, the vehicles were crossing the tracks heading sorta southeast. One…two…three…long pause, then four, five, six. He couldn’t tell the type or size, if they were a car or truck. It was just too far away.

A rasping moan carried on the air from someplace close. “Great,” Kevin sighed. He turned, slowly, staying down on his haunches, moving in an uncomfortable duck-walk.
There
! Sumbling through an open field were a dozen or so staggering, dark shadows.