Voodoo Plague - 01 (11 page)

“It does if we
can find a way to counter act their aggression towards us.”

“You have an
idea?”

Rachel let out a
short, sardonic laugh, “Yeah.  I’m a fourth year med student paying the bills
by shaking my tits and ass in men’s faces.  If I was a seasoned researcher with
a lab and the right equipment then maybe…”

I thought about
what she said, but couldn’t think of anything to say in response.  After a bit
I headed to the kitchen to make us some food before we got back on the road.

The truck
started easily on the first try, the diesel engine loud in the closed garage. 
All our gear and Dog was already loaded in the back seat and Rachel was behind
the wheel ready to go when I raised the garage door.  Moments later we were out
of the garage, out of the driveway and headed southwest on the street in front
of the house.

I intended to go
south a short distance then start working our way northwest through the
neighborhoods.  My hope was to completely avoid the herd that had passed in
front of the house.  A block south I made a right, keeping the speed down which
also kept the volume of the engine down.  I had fallen in love with the big
Ford truck, but at times I wished for a nice, quiet gasoline engine.

We slowly made
it through the surrounding neighborhoods, turning off to keep heading in a
generally northwest direction.  By now my memorization of the map had failed
and Rachel was navigating for me with the map spread out on her lap.  Dog was
sitting on the rear floor with his head resting on the center console between
us, appearing to be alertly watching the road ahead of us.

We passed
through neighborhood after neighborhood with no sign of any life, survivor or
infected.  There was also no sign of any animal life other than birds.  Ghost
town came to mind as we passed house after house that was dark and silent.  I
idly wondered if any of them held survivors like Rachel and I.

We turned onto a
narrower street that was completely shaded by a long row of oaks and elms and I
hit the brakes when three figures walked into the road a few houses in front of
us.  In the deep shade of the tree cover I couldn’t tell if they were infected
or not, but they seemed to move with a degree of coordination that the infected
could not achieve.

None of the
three were armed, nor did they make any aggressive or threatening moves.  They
just stood in the road a hundred yards in front of us.  I scanned the houses up
and down the street looking for anything out of place that would indicate an
impending ambush, but everything looked as normal as it could under the
circumstances.

“What do you
think?” I asked Rachel while continuing to scan the street and houses.  “Go
around, or go see what they want?”

Rachel consulted
the map before answering, “To go around we have to back track almost a mile
then follow a frontage road along the 575.  I don’t think that’s a good
option.”

OK, then. 
Forward, I decided.  Before stepping on the throttle I laid the 12 gauge across
my lap, rested the pistol grip on the console in front of Dog’s nose and
clicked the safety to the ‘fire’ position.  Slowly feeding throttle I
accelerated to ten MPH and rolled down the street towards the figures.

At fifty yards I
could tell these were kids.  At twenty yards I could tell they weren’t infected
as they were nervously shuffling their feet and looking around like they were
afraid of being attacked.  At ten yards I braked to a halt and could tell they
were actually teenagers, a boy and two girls.  The boy was overweight with an
acne ravaged face and long greasy hair that hung into his eyes.  The two girls
were painfully thin, both dressed in black with hair dyed the color of black
shoe polish.  One of them had piercings in her nose, lip, eyebrow and the full
perimeter of each ear.  The other had no piercings other than a large jewel
glinting on her right cheek.

“Well, looks
like the Addams Family survived,” I said.

Rachel looked at
me like I was nuts, then tried to suppress a grin.

Rolling my
window down I motioned them to my side of the truck and put my hand on the
shotgun’s pistol grip, finger alongside the trigger guard.  They exchanged
glances then the girl with the single jewel in her cheek approached, the other
two moving closer together in the middle of the road.

“Hi,” I said
when she stopped a few feet from my window. 

She looked back
at me, and the eyes looked too intelligent for the outfit.  Oh well.  I’ve
certainly got no business judging anyone.

“Hi,” She said.

“What are you
doing out here?” Rachel raised her voice and asked.

“We thought you
were our parents,” She said.  “My dad has a truck that sounds just like this
and when we heard it we thought you were them.”

“When’s the last
time you saw your parents?” I asked.

She thought
about that for a minute before answering, “Two days ago.  The news on the TV
was scary and they went out to the store to get supplies.  Then the phones and
TV stopped working and they haven’t come home.”

I let out a
sigh.  How do you tell a kid that her parents were probably either infected or
had been killed by infected?  I looked to Rachel for help, but she just shook
her head and shrugged her shoulders.  I turned back to the girl I had mentally
labeled as Jewell.

“The news isn’t
good.  Thousands of people have been infected and they’re attacking anyone
that’s not infected.  Your parents may not be able to make it home anytime
soon.”  It was the best I could come up with.

“We’ve seen the
infected,” She said.  “I killed two of them that attacked my brother in the
back yard.”

Rachel put her
hand on my arm and I turned my head slightly towards her.  Not so far that I
couldn’t still see Jewell and her siblings, but far enough to hear her low
whisper.

“Should we take
them with us?”

I thought about
that for a minute before turning fully back to the open window.

“What’s your
name?”

“Gwen, and
that’s Stacy and Kevin.” She motioned to the two kids in front of us I’d dubbed
McFly and Morticia.  When she moved her arm her jacket flapped and I could see
the butt of a 1911 .45 pistol in her waistband.  She reached for the jacket,
but her hand was too close to the pistol for comfort.

“Don’t touch
that pistol, Gwen.  I’m a nice enough guy, but you don’t want to try anything
foolish.”

She blushed, but
held my gaze.  “I’m not going to try anything.  I just didn’t want you to see
it and get the wrong idea.”

“OK,” I
answered, making up my mind about Rachel’s whispered question.  “We’re heading
west, getting away from Atlanta.  We have room, and we have food and water if
you three want to come with us.”

Gwen stood
quiet, as if sizing us up.  I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes.  I
thought she was going to say yes.

“Fuck no, Gwen. 
No way.  We wait right here just like Mom and Dad told us to.  They’ll be
back.”

This was Kevin,
and I was reminded how much better kids hearing is than mine.  I was struggling
to hear Gwen over the idle of the truck, and he’d heard me almost thirty feet
away with the clattering engine between us.

Gwen’s eyes shut
down and she looked over at her brother and sister before turning back to me,
“We’ll stay here.  Our parents will be home soon.”

“Are you sure
that’s a good idea?  We saw a herd of thousands of infected move through a
neighborhood just to the east early this morning.”

She nodded, but
didn’t say anything else.

“Do you need
anything?” Rachel called out.  “Food, water… anything?”

Gwen stole
another glance at her siblings then turned back to us with a glint of hope in
her eye.  “Food.  We haven’t eaten in two days.  That’s OK for Kevin, but Stacy
and I need to eat.”

“Hey fuck you,
Gwen.” Kevin shouted, raising both middle fingers to give her the double bird. 
Even during the apocalypse siblings will fight with each other.

“OK, Gwen.  Step
back in front of the truck.  I’m going to get out and unload some food for
you.  Now before I do that, remember what I said about not doing anything
foolish.”

I looked at her,
hoping she had enough life experience to understand the message I was sending. 
Kids or not, if any of them drew a weapon I wouldn’t hesitate.  A kid with a
gun can kill you just as fast and just as dead as a trained soldier.

She nodded her
head and moved back in front of the truck.  I shifted the transmission into
park and handed the shotgun to Rachel.  “Safety is off and there’s a round in
the chamber.  Open your door and stand on the running board.  If any of them
pulls a gun while I’m unloading some food you shoot them.  Understand?”

Rachel stared at
the shotgun in her hands like she didn’t understand why she was holding it.

“Understand?” I
asked, hardening my voice into a deep growl.

Rachel snapped
out of it and after checking to make sure the area was clear opened her door
and stepped out onto the running board, shotgun held at the ready.  The three
kids stepped back when they saw the shotgun, but Rachel called out to them,
“I’m just making sure we’re ready if any infected show up.  Stay right there
and we’ll get some food out for you.”

The kids were
calmed by a woman’s voice and stopped moving away.  I did a check of the area
and stepped out and opened the back door of the truck.  Dog hopped out and
trotted to the closest tree while I gathered half of the canned and boxed food
we had taken from the house we’d spent the night in. 

The food was in
a bunch of plastic grocery bags we’d found under the kitchen sink, and I
quickly had two heavy bundles of grocery bags swinging from my hands.  I walked
a few feet in front of the truck and sat the bags on the ground.  All three
kids had their eyes glued to the food.

I let out a deep
sigh and glanced back at Rachel.  As if knowing what was on my mind she gave me
a quick nod then turned her attention back to keeping watch on the kids as well
as looking for approaching infected.

“Do you guys
want to come with us?” I asked.  “It’s pretty bad out there and- well, your
parents- I’m just saying you might be safer with us.  We could leave a note at
your house for your folks.”

All three
started shaking their heads and Gwen spoke up, “No.  We’ll wait.  They’ll be
home soon.  Thanks for the food.”

I nodded my head
and returned to the truck cab, closing the back door after Dog hopped in and
resumed his spot.  I got in and closed my door, Rachel doing the same on her
side after making sure the shotgun was on safe.

As soon as we
were back in the truck Gwen dashed forward and grabbed the grocery bags, then
all three ran to the open door of a small white house.  They disappeared inside
and the door closed.  I sat there for a minute looking at the house and was
glad to see that they had done a good job of covering windows from the inside. 
The house looked empty.  As long as they were careful and quiet maybe the
infected wouldn’t find them.

“Think they’ll
make it?” Rachel asked quietly.

I shook my head,
then answered when I realized she was looking at the house and not me, “For a
while.  Until the food runs out, or they run out of water and have to go out
and scavenge.”

“We shouldn’t
leave them,” She said, a note of distress in her voice.

“Unless we force
them, they’re not going to come with us.”  I put the big truck in gear and
slowly accelerated down the street.

We kept heading
northwest, finally coming to the road that led to the overpass that would
hopefully get us safely over the 575.  It was a narrow four lane road with a
center turn lane.  The road was lined with small businesses- mainly fast food
joints, liquor stores, convenience stores and auto repair shops. 

As we approached
the 575 the number of abandoned vehicles increased and we were frequently
forced to steer through parking lots to get around.  More and more infected
were also present, the shambling males that tried to catch us and the much
swifter females that sprinted at us.  More than one female bounced off the side
or front of the truck, but I kept the speed up enough that they were unable to
hold on for a ride.

We finally made
it onto the overpass with a respectable sized herd following.  Despite their
presence I braked to a halt at the apex of the bridge, maneuvering the truck
close enough to the guard rail to allow us a good view of the 575.

Both directions
of the interstate were hopelessly jammed with cars.  Some had apparently been
involved in accidents and abandoned by their owners, but most were just stuck
in gridlock and were now sitting empty.  Flowing through the maze of steel and
glass were thousands of infected, looking like a river flowing through rocks.

We were noticed
immediately as we sat there idling, infected from every direction turning to
make their way towards us.  Several females, apparently frustrated with the
pace, leapt up onto car hoods and roofs and raced towards us using the stalled
vehicles like stepping stones.  In my mirror I could see the leading edge of
the herd following us and decided we’d sat in one place long enough.

The road we were
on ran west for a bit through sparsely populated countryside, then swung to the
north and we began to see more homes and businesses.  Along with more buildings
came more infected.  We pushed on and I raised our speed slightly, eager to
move beyond Atlanta’s sprawl and out into the country.  My hope was that the
farther we moved away from the city the less infected we would encounter.

As we continued,
this seemed to be the case.  The road swung to the northwest and other than a
road that ran to the south with a sign for a marina there was nothing but the
blacktop cutting through forest.  The road was smooth and well maintained with
wide, grassy shoulders and the terrain began rolling as we drove.

Relaxing
slightly I asked Rachel to double check her map for our next turn and pushed
our speed up close to sixty.  It was a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly
as the afternoon wore on and for the first time since arriving in Atlanta my
spirits started to lift.  We drove through a series of dips in the road as we
gained altitude, then climbed the biggest hill yet.  Cresting the rise it took
me a moment to realize what I was seeing and another to react and jam on the
brakes.