Fortunes & Failures - 03 (33 page)

“Mom suffered from a bi-polar disorder and some pretty severe paranoia,” Mackenzie finally continued. “She was okay as long as she had her meds.  Only, well, with what’s happened…there wasn’t any way to get refills.”

If Juan didn’t know what to say before, this new revelation only make it worse. Why hadn’t she said anything?  Was it embarrassment? Fear?

He wished that he had one of those minds that could figure people out. He’d known people like that, and never once envied them until now.  So, he continued to stand there quietly, holding Mackenzie and wishing that he had something to offer.

After a while, she sniffed and pushed away slightly. Juan went to drop his arms, but she quickly grabbed them and guided them back to her.  He gazed down into her eyes, then, decided to risk leaning down and kissing her softly on the forehead.

Juan went from confused to dumbfounded in an instant. He’d done nothing but stand there like the big oaf that he was.  Just as he opened his mouth to speak, JoJo’s shout cut him off.

“We got company!”



The heavily armored Greyhound bus rumbled to a stop about a block away. There was a moment of uncertainty as Chad and the others waited to see who or what would emerge. He’d waded through the small cluster of people to stand between Brett and Scott.

After a moment, there was a hiss and a man stepped out onto the street.  He was dressed in what looked like a baseball catcher’s gear and holding an M16. “Anybody in your group bit?” the man called, apparently unconcerned that he would be drawing the attention of the numerous zombies now appearing from every direction.

“No,” Chad took a step forward and responded.

“Then I’d get your asses over here,” the man called.  “We got room. Y’all will need to say in the back until we’ve had a look at each of ya to make certain.”

Chad turned to face his group. While he didn’t necessarily like the idea of surrendering to a group of strangers, he liked the idea of standing out here on the street even less.  At least a couple hundred of those things were closing from every direction, and he seriously doubted that they had the resources to deal with that many. It looked like everybody else was on the same page as nods greeted his questioning look.

“Everybody pair up and don’t let your partner out of your sight,” Chad warned as they walked to the bus.

“Name’s Chet Long,” the catcher’s gear clad man said as Chad and his group approached.  “You folks look like you could use a lift.”

“Where you folks headed?” Chad asked as the rest of the group filed onto the bus.

“Someplace up in the hills.”

“Actually, we were considering Yosemite,” Scott offered.  Chad cast a glance of disbelief. How could he give up information to these total strangers?

“Not a bad plan,” Keith nodded as Brett, the last of the group filed on leaving just him, Scott and Chad on the street. “We can all talk about this later though.  Stiffs is headin’ our way.  Best to clear out.”

The three boarded and the door closed with a burst of pneumatic air behind them.  The dim yellow glow of lights in place on the floor at each row of seats slowly became enough to see by as Chad felt the bus shudder and swerve.  He took a seat in the open front row, joined by Chet.

“Where you folks from?” Chet broke the silence.

“Modesto mostly,” Chad replied. He didn’t want to give up too much information to this stranger, but he’d noticed a few other women and children while he’d boarded the bus and they all looked okay. Which, for the most part, meant nobody was visibly restrained or appeared to be flashing coded distress signals.

“Well, most of us are from the Merced area,” Chet offered.  “We were holding out at the FEMA shelter for a while, then, somebody inside turned one night.  It was crazy.  Folks shootin’ in the dark. Couple of the soldiers said they knew where we could evac to.  Turned out to be a car-scrapping facility.  It had great fencing  and seemed okay, but the stiffs started building up around the perimeter.  We knew that food would be an issue soon, so we got to planning. This here bus was across the highway, abandoned. Group of us fought our way to it, got it runnin’ and brought it back.  Spent the next couple of months turning this baby into the battle-wagon you see now.”

“We were in the Modesto High School FEMA center,” Chad offered up. He still didn’t want to put too much information out there to relative strangers, but Chet had seemed awfully forthcoming.  Also, Chad had honed his people-reading instincts to what he considered to be a rather high level during his stay in prison. This guy seemed fairly solid. “Our soldiers bailed out on us.”

Chad considered the man beside him.  Something told him that this guy was trustworthy…at least to a point. “That’s the plan,” he finally said with a nod.

“Well it seems pretty solid,” Chet agreed, and got up. “I’m gonna go get Colonol Morris.  We was actually just wanting to get someplace remote. I think you might have the right idea.” With that, Chet patted Chad on the arm and headed down the aisle.

Chad craned his neck around to take a look. His eyes were adjusted to the floor lights now and he could see that the bus was actually close to full. Also, he noticed two soldiers standing in the aisle. As he watched, the bathroom door in the rear opened and a soft light spilled out.  One of his people, Penny Doucet, was stepping out. A woman ws standing in the small space.  She said something to one of the soldiers who nodded and went up the aisle.  He leaned in and a second later Ronni’s friend, Krystal got up and followed the soldier to the restroom. She stepped inside with the woman and the door shut. Obviously they were checking his people out.

He saw Chet crouched beside one of the rows. He was talking to somebody and kept nodding. Finally, he stood and took a step back.  A very large man pulled himself up and into the aisle. With a very pronounced limp, he began moving towards the front; towards where Chad set.

Chad had a moment to really get a look at the man heading his way—presumably Colonel Morris. He was big. Wide enough to block out his ability to see up the aisle.  His head looked like a bowling ball with a crew-cut smashed down onto his shoulders at the expense of any sort of neck. He was dressed in a black jumpsuit with the legs tucked into a pair of boots that clumped heavily under what had to be at least a three hundred pound frame.

Chad moved over as the man reached his seat. The human mountain fell like an avalanche into not only the adjacent seat, but a little bit of his, pressing him closer to the window.

“Mister Long tells me that you folks were headed out to Yosemite,” Colonel Morris wheezed.

“Well…,” Chad craned his neck to look at the man beside him. He looked grossly out of shape to be—at least what he envisioned—a military officer. “That was our plan, yes.”

“What’s your reasoning?”

“Just seemed like it was kinda remote while having facilities that we could utilize; plenty of fresh water, that sort of thing,” Chad explained

“Hmmm,” The colonel made the sound through his nose more than anything else. He stroked the stubble growing on his multiple chins, nodding his head. To chad it looked more like a bobble in reaction to the movement of the bus. Finally, Colonel Morris leaned forward. “Mister Foster, think you can find Yosemite National Park?”

“Yes, sir,” the man answered.

“Very well then,” the colonel grabbed the aluminum railing that separated the front row of seats from the entry steps and pulled himself up to his feet, “let’s give your idea a try, Mister…?”

“Meyers, Chad Meyers.”

“Colonel Leonard Morris, United States Army…retired.” The big man offered an enormous hand with the fattest, stubbiest fingers Chad had ever seen.  They shook, and the colonel made his way back down the aisle.

“Oh yeah.” Chad clapped the kid on the shoulders and rose to his feet. He made it a point to do a headcount on his way back. He came up with an even fifty including himself, the driver and the nurse. Only fourteen were female and—including Gwen and Krystal and the kid who’d come to get him for the nurse—eight were children in their early teens or younger. Also, there were three toddlers. Twenty-five men rounded out the census.  If they were unified…this would be quite a formidable group. As he began to strip for the nurse to be checked for bites, he allowed himself the luxury that he’d denied for quite some time…hope.



Kim woke to terrible cramping in her stomach.  Her body was drenched in sweat and she couldn’t stop shaking. Another sharp pain tore through her, causing her to curl up into an even tighter ball.  She shoved the pillow into her mouth so that her cries would hopefully not carry outside to the surrounding neighborhoods and bring the undead swarming.

The lake water, she thought as she gritted her teeth through another gut-rendering bold of pain.
Great
. She’d managed to escape and evade those damned things only to fall prey to foolishly drinking contaminated water. Now she would die in this strange house, frightened and alone.  It wasn’t fair.

She cried as quietly as possible; the pain feeding off her frustration.  She felt things deep in her guts shift and tried to crawl out of bed and to the bathroom. Unfortunately, her fall to the floor proved to be too much of an impact.  Her bowels let go again and she felt the disgusting smelling watery expulsion wash down her thighs as well as up her back.

Rocking up onto her hands and knees, she crawled, but the room seemed to spin and sway causing her to fall over more than once. She made it to the hallway and collapsed. That is where she would remain.

Unaware that dysentery had set in, Kim had no idea that she’d become the victim of severe dehydration. Every time her head rose above her heart, Kim’s blood pressure would skyrocket while her heart rate would plummet causing her to blackout. This was compounded further when her appendix burst.  Kim slipped into a coma and died seventeen minutes later.

* * * * *

13

Geek Tragedy

The military truck rumbled through the intersection of the residential neighborhood.  Kevin twitched the steering wheel a little to avoid the overturned Jeep emblazoned with the United States Postal Service logo.  In doing so, he caught the two shambling corpses with the solid steel of the front bumper.  The truck barely registered the impact as the pair of undead were tossed through the air, one of them crashing through the windshield of another of the numerous abandoned vehicles in and along the street.

“Follow this road straight and it will get us to Highway Sixteen,” Peter said as he flipped through the binder.  “The blockade was to the west. Once we reach the highway, the only problem we’ll have is that we’ll pass right behind The Basket.”

“What about this?” Aleah leaned in and pointed. “Everett Avenue.  It runs parallel, but gives us some distance.”

“Looks promising,” Peter nodded, tracing the route and flipping through a half dozen pages. “It takes us through a few neighborhoods, but it is actually the shortest route.”

“Hang on!” Kevin called.  A cluster of zombies up ahead left him with no choice but to plow through.  Even at just over thirty miles per hour, the impact of that many bodies caused a jolt.

A yell of protest from the open cargo area could be heard above the mix of engine noise and zombies. Heather had insisted upon riding in back with Matt.  Kevin winced at the thought of how that impact bounced them around back there.  Having ridden in the back once, he knew how unpleasant things could be.

“Sorry,” he called out his open window.

“It should be just ahead,” Peter said, pointing.  “Turn right just beyond that overpass.”

“Heads up back there,” Kevin called.  He hated going underneath a section of road where he could see several of those things walking.  And it was obvious that those things were aware of their presence.  Unable to help it, Kevin pressed down hard on the accelerator.

“That does us no good if we wreck,” Aleah warned as they flew by a pair of cars that had crashed head on. Something was moving around in one, but she only saw a blur as the big truck continued to gain speed.

They shot out the other side of the overpass and into the seemingly symbolic sunlight. Kevin glanced in the rearview as several bodies hit the concrete.  He eased off the gas, slowing to take the turn east on Everett Avenue at a reasonable speed.

“What’s that up ahead?” Shari had been holding her sister Erin tight as they’d driven first into the deserted city of Newark, then across the river and into the hellscape that had once been a rather drab looking neighborhood. They’d crossed through one area that not only looked severely trampled, but reeked of the undead in a way she’d never experienced.  The closest she’d come to such an overwhelming stench was way back when Kevin had rescued her, her mother, and sisters from their grandfather’s office building in Wheeling. So many of those things had crowded around the U-haul that she’d feared they wouldn’t make it. Hundreds of those things had gathered around the building and they’d plowed through them.