Endemic Rise of the Plague (15 page)

From the bed of the fast moving truck, a blan
ket of gloom felt as if it were suffocating Joe as he witnessed the chaotic scenes in the area. As they drew closer to his neighborhood, it seemed to worsen. He’d seen two homes on fire, several stalled cars and all the while, maniacs were everywhere.

The two door truck was not much to look at. It appeared as though the paint had originally been a deep shade of red. It
had now become a combination of rust, primer, spray paint and even a dab of household paint. The body of the vehicle looked as if it had been used in a wrecking derby, having minuscule and massive dents, scratches and the like. Deep grooves scraped from bumper to bumper on the passenger side and the side mirror was missing, looking as if it had rolled over and slid on its side at some point. The interior of the truck revealed its age, with a bench seat up front, which looked as if it had once been a red tone, but now appeared almost peach in color from sun discoloration. The back of the pickup had a scuffed, black bed liner and the tailgate was completely gone. Despite the appearance of the truck, it had a sturdy body, with next to new thirty-five inch tires, and the engine roared like a beast.

Hank sat up front with his wife Mary. Wearing brown Dockers with a white collared shirt, beneath a black blazer, he
looked to be an older gentleman with salt and pepper colored hair, late fifties. His wife’s youth showed, looking to be in her late twenties, with short blonde hair that reached down to her chin. She wore a black, pink and white dress with black sandals. The form fitting dress came down to her mid-thigh and had the skinniest shoulder straps. From their attire, Joe had a feeling that they had been or were going out to dinner when the chaos began.

In the back of the truck, Joe and Kate sat cross legged with their shoulders up against the cab.
A fellow rescuee sat in the back with them, who had introduced himself as Jake. Mary had explained that she and Hank rescued the twenty year old firefighter over on Starling about thirty minutes ago. He sat quietly near the rear, his white tee shirt and blue jeans were filthy with soot and smoke. He had taken off his gear, leaving it wadded up beside him. His young face had a fresh shave, and his light brown hair with blonde highlights stuck up all over the place like porcupine needles.

To Joe, t
he kid looked as though he were on the verge of a complete breakdown. It wasn’t hard to believe that this kid’s life could be on the brink of destruction. After introducing himself, he hadn’t said a word, just starred off into the night.

“Joe, we’re not gonna make it any closer than this,” Hank said turning onto Westgate Avenue.

Joe surveyed the road ahead, craning his neck around the side of the truck. Congested vehicles made the road ahead seem impenetrable. Dozens of crazed townspeople ran wildly in and out of businesses. Making it through this street would prove impossible. It pained Joe to see this area in such distress, after having traveled through it daily to get to work. The hardware store, Nana’s Fudge Factory, and his late wife’s favorite spot—The Sun Ray Café were now in ruins. His heart sank as Hank took the next turn off the Westgate.

“Is there another street we can take to get you home?” Hank asked.

“No, our track is a series of cul-de-sacs that all dump out on Westgate. Damn!” Joe slammed his heel down on the bed liner.

Panic filled Joe as he thought of Roxy. If there’s no way to get home from Westgate, then there’s to get out either.

“Listen Joe, I’m sure your kid is safe, either locked up tight in the house or maybe she already made it out. But there is no way to get down that road—in the truck, and especially not on foot. The best I can do for you, is offer you and Kate a safe place for the night. I can take you guys to our General Store and we’ll see how things are going in the morning. I swear I’ll bring you back here Joe, but you have to think about Kate and keeping her safe,” Hank fathered.

Hank’s levelheaded plea made sense, but Joe felt like he would be abandoning Roxy. Leaving her all alone to fight for survival in a town filled with death and destruction, weighed heavily on Joe. He couldn’t just desert her.

A lone woman stood in the road ahead. Tilting her head, she released a piercing battle-cry as she raced toward the truck. Suddenly more of her kind flooded the street in an ambush of sorts, surrounding the truck. Jake and Mary began to fire their handguns at the approaching crazies. Hank accelerated, running down the ones out front.

A man dressed in a stained suit and tie latched onto the side of the truck. He extended his arm toward Kate, pawing at her shirt. Pulling his daughter close, Joe kicked the man’s arm—just as another man clung to the side of the truck.

“We’re getting boxed in Hank,” Jake shouted.

Hank picked up the pace
, as even more and gunshots echoed down the street. Jake turned his gun on the two men attempting to climb into the truck. As Jake pulled the trigger, the gun made a faint click sound. He was out of bullets. He scooted himself toward the men and kicked them off the side, one at a time.

Hank made three quick turns and came out on a straight-away. He sped away from the mob, as Joe’s hopes of getting to Roxy faded.

“
Dad,” Kate’s eyes widened. “I’m gonna try Roxy again.”

Kate reached into the back pocket of her jeans, her hands returned empty. Rubbing them across her front pockets, slipping out her iPod and returning it to her pocket, she looked up to Joe with an unsettling expression.

“I don’t have the phone,” she whispered shaking her head. “Did I give it back to you?”

Joe thought back to when they fled the scene of the motorcycle crash and remembered the plastic and metal pieces he’s seen on the ground.

“I think it fell out of your pocket when we ran,” Joe said, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

“What’ll it be Joe? We’ve got a phone that’s all yours to use. And you’ve got Kate right here safe and sound, come with us to the General Store and let’s keep it that way,” Hank said.

Dust filled the air as the Ford pickup pulled onto the gravel and dirt driveway, parking in front of a garage, next to a building with a wooded exterior. The building resembled a log cabin, with a huge sign atop that read, GENERAL STORE. As the vehicle came to a stop, Mary quickly hopped out of the truck, unlocking and removing a padlock from the garage door, by the light of the exterior motion lamps. She yanked on the handle, pulling up the aluminum door with small, squared windows near the top. Hank accelerated into the garage, while Mary closed the door from the outside. Sounds of metal scraping against the door could be heard as she replaced the padlock.

Hank turned off the engine, as the passengers exited the truck. They were in a dual purpose garage and storage area. Boxes were neatly stacked against the far
, left wall. They had name brands on them, cases and cases of canned and dry goods, sodas, fountain drink boxes, and so much more. The area was about double the size of a three car garage, with an eighteen foot refrigerated room along the back wall.

“
Well folks, welcome to our General Store. This will be a safe place for us to stay for the night. Once the sun comes out in the morning, and we’ve gotten a little rest, we'll get you and your kid back home Joe. We’ll figure it out. And Jake, you can stay as long as you'd like. Let's get inside. It should be nice and cool in here,” Hank announced, wiping sweat from his forehead and cheek with a handkerchief, as he hurried toward the wall on the right and unlocked the dead bolt to a heavy, wooden door.

Upon entering the store, a blast of brisk air enveloped them. The hum of the air conditioner could be heard as they all walked around in silence.
Hank flipped a switch on the wall, illuminating the storefront. It was a modest convenience store, with a small coffee counter, fountain drinks, a warming station and five isles of chips, candy bars and similar goods. There is only one cash register. It’s a dinosaur of a register, where the prices are keyed in manually—no barcode scanner here. Above the register, is a handmade wooden sign that reads:
Smile you're on video
. Although the camera located above the sign has never been connected to any power, Hank thought it would make people think twice about robbing the store. Surprisingly, in the ten years of ownership, he had never had a robbery, even though this place is out in the country. The only lights that illuminate the area at night are the ones mounted to the building. Hank, having installed the six motion sensor halogens himself, during the first week of ownership, knew that they were a necessity, as the closest lamp post had to be at least a half mile down the road. With the General Store being situated on a desolate street, amidst corn fields and grape vineyards on the outskirts of town, decent lighting at night has always been one of Hank’s highest priorities.

“
Okay folks, I want everyone to be comfortable. Eat and drink what you need. Please do not waste, though. I don't mind helping out, we’re all in a bad way right now, with what’s going on out there. But please be respectful. This is our business, our livelihood,” Hank announced.

“
We should make a list of what we use, so we can pay you back,” Jake declared.

“
Nah, that's not necessary. We'll take inventory when this is all over and just write it off. It's not a big deal. But I do appreciate the thought,” Hank smiled, rubbing his hand over the stubble on his chin and cheeks.

Kate walked to the glass front doors. A metal gate, just inside the doors, was closed and locked with a padlock, while the glass doors
themselves, remained locked as well.

“Even if those things were way out here, and even if they could somehow break the glass, that gate is top of the line sweetheart. Nobody’s getting in unless we open it for them. So don’t you worry,” Hank said taking notice of Kate’s concerns.

“Good,” Kate nodded with a half-smile at Hank, her face then falling to a more puzzled look. “Where’s Mary?”

“
Good question Kate, she should have come in through the back door,” he trailed off as he turned and made his way to the back of the store.

He ope
ned a hollow cored door that led to another much smaller storage area and a kitchenette, with the survivors following close behind. Just inside the small room is a door on the right, marked with another handmade wooden restroom sign. A sink, stove, and refrigerator are lined along the right wall, with a small dinette set near the middle of the room. Boxes of paper cups, plastic cutlery, napkins and such are on the left side of the space. Straight across from where the group had entered, is small window next to another door. Hank hurried to it and turned the knob, finding the door unlocked. He glanced back to the group behind him, with a look of apprehension upon his seasoned face.

“
It's unlocked. I'm gonna check, and see if she went back out for some reason. You guys stay back just in case. Jake, you still have that gun I gave you?” Hank asked pulling out a silver and black pistol from his belt.

“
Yes Sir, I do,” Jake yanked out a similar gun from his waistband. He moved closer, standing behind Hank, like a shadow on a sunny day.

Joe gently moved Kate behind him, backing away from the door.

Hank twisted the knob slowly, then flipped the switch to the porch light. He slowly pulled the door open, the halogen bulb on the exterior wall illuminating the entire back side of the building. He paused for a moment to listen, but nothing could be heard. Poking his head out the doorway, he quickly looked to the right, then to the left around the door. Peering back at the Jake and Joe, he shook his head, as if to say that there hadn’t been a sign of Mary or anything else. With his gun raised, he tactfully stepped outside. Jake grabbed the door behind him, holding it open and keeping his eyes trained on their rescuer.

Six feet of powdery grained dirt extended from the back of the store to a cornfield at the edge of the property. The neighboring land is owned by Jameson Thacker
. The land being in the Thacker family for generations, corn has always been their crop. The Thackers are regular customers, visiting the General Store several times a week.

“I see just one set of prints leading to the door, none away from it,” Hank whispered, shaking his head as he examined the prints left behind in the soft earth.

Just then, a rustling could be heard from the corn field before Hank. Both Jake and Hank pointed their weapons in the direction of the sound. Hank could feel his heart pounding so hard, he thought it may burst through his chest. He held his breath as the sound drew nearer and nearer to the edge of the field. Now, some of the corn stalks were visibly quivering as whoever moved through the field came even closer. His eyes widened as the figure finally emerged from the corn, a great big, grey and white tabby cat. The armed men both let out a sigh of relief.

“
Chubby! Where is Mama?” Hank said scooping up the cat into his arms. He flashed a toothy grin at Jake, who tucked his gun back into his pants.

“
Ahem.
What are you guys doing?” A soft voice from behind Kate sounded. The four spun around in unison.

“
Mary, where were you?” Hank said, holstering his gun.

“
In the restroom Hank. Did you want me to announce it to all of our guests?” She asked bashfully.

“
Babe, you left the door unlocked. We thought you went back out,” he stepped back inside the doorway.

“
Did I? Oh my god! I didn't mean to worry you. Come inside Hank and we'll lock it up. It makes me nervous to have that door open,” she waved him in.

"I'm just glad that you’re...
” stopping mid-sentence, an eerie feeling washed over Hank.

He spun around in the doorway to find a woman standing inches from his face. Hank recognized his neighbor
, Mrs. Thacker. Before he could even react to the sight of her, Jake shoved him out of the way. Hank went tumbling to the ground, as his gun slid under the table, from the open holster. The cat scrambled across the vinyl, running off into the store.

Jake reached for his gun, tucked in his waistband, when lady Thacker charged him. Her rotting teeth and bleeding gums had already sunk into the side of his neck. Fighting to free himself from the woman, Jake toppled over on top of her, outside the door. The impact of hitting the ground dislodged the woman from his throat, taking with her a huge helping of flesh. Jake shifted over onto his back gripping his throat. Blood dripped down lady Thacker’s chin and chest, staining her floral night gown. She rolled to her side toward Jake, before quickly sitting up
and slamming both of her hands on the ground. Plumes of dust puffed into the air. Her damp hair clung to her pale face, and her black, soulless eyes locked onto her prey. Lowering her head, staring at Jake’s injured neck like some sort of starved animal, she slid her knees beneath her to move back in on him.

Retrieving the gun, Hank scrambled to the door. Taking aim at the woman's head, he fired the pistol, the gunshot echoing through the corn field.

Mary and Joe dashed outside to help Jake in as Hank stood watch for any others. Hank closed and locked the door after taking one last look around.

Joe eased Jake onto the vinyl floor. Jake tightly gripped his throat as blood spilled through his fingers and began to form a pool beneath his head. Mary held her hands over Jake’s in an effort to control the bleeding, while Kate began rifling through the kitchen cabinets. Finding a stack of towels in a drawer near the sink, Kate rushed them to Mary’s side.

“Jake, put these on the wound,” Mary's voice quivered. With trembling hands, she passed him the stack of towels.

“Is it bad? I can’t really feel it,
” he asked, taking the towels with a shaky hand and pressing them against his throat.

“
Can you do me a favor Kate? There is some duct tape in the top drawer, next to the stove. Can you bring it over here?” Hank asked as he knelt down over Jake.

Kate nodded with a frightened look on her face, ru
shing the tape to Hank.

“
I’ll tape it up for him Hank,” Mary extended her bloody hand.

“
Alright, tape it really tight,” Hank said, handing her the roll.