The Zombie Virus (Book 2): The Children of the Damned (5 page)

Along the highway he tried opening the doors
of abandoned vehicles to see if the interior light would
illuminate, indicating a functioning battery. He ignored cars and
trucks with their doors left open when their previous occupants had
vacated them. Their batteries would be long drained. So far he
hadn’t had any luck. This many months after the world he had known
had ended, all the batteries had finally lost their charge.
Occasionally, the dead, rotten remains of a body could be seen
through the window and he would move hurriedly away. It wasn’t that
the sight of death that frightened him, God knows he had seen
plenty of that lately. It was mainly the god-awful smell. Ugh, how
he hated that smell! Less occasionally, he would come across the
remains of bodies along the road, although usually animals and
‘other’ things had long fed on and scattered those remains.

The highway steeply wound its way up the
front side of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and the going was slow.
Another mile, maybe, and he would be at the crest and then it would
be an easy stroll down into the Shenandoah Valley. There, he would
be in the midst of human habitation again, and possibly the raging
hordes of insane monsters. He tried not to let the fear creep up
from his gut and squeeze on his heart as it sometimes did, yet this
time it came nonetheless. He wished he was with his mom and pop.
Being alone was bad, however, being alone in this new world was
terrifying at times. Sometimes he simply wished there could be a
grownup around to make the scary decisions. Jeremy took a deep
breath and tried to let his mind wander down other alleys, he knew
he couldn’t let the fear take over and control him; he couldn’t be
that little boy again. He had to be brave if he ever wanted to see
his parents again.

He stared up at the ridge of the imposing
mountain, frosted white by the morning’s cold temperatures.

It
sure
is
pretty
, he thought,
like
something
from
a
Christmas
card
.

At times he felt he was watching the world
through two different looking glasses, one saw the danger and
potential death around each corner, while the other could see the
beauty still inherent in the world around him. His mind drifted as
he thought about the approaching holiday season and the joyous ones
past that had been spent with family and friends. A distant smile
spread across his face while he reminisced and his eyes focused far
away, images of a time that could never be recaptured flooding his
inner vision. In almost a trancelike state he walked up to a car
and started to open the door. He spotted the mummified corpse
behind the wheel and jerked his hand back from the handle while his
mind instantly snapped back to reality.

“I can’t be daydreaming!” he chastised
himself out loud, looking around with a startled glance when his
boyish voice burst through the silence. He sighed and then
continued trudging up the highway, checking the occasional car for
a working battery, failing to see the dark form shadowing him along
the wood line at the top of the cliff wall to his right.

The creature had caught the boy’s scent
wafting up the steep gray granite walls of the highway cut. It was
a familiar scent, although a smell it had not detected for what
felt like an eternity to its simple mind. It stalked the boy
silently, unsure of what to do. Pleasant memories flooded its
brain, sparked by a fresh whiff of the human odor, memories of full
bellies, warmth and companionship. An inadvertent whimper escaped
its mouth and it froze in the shadows, eyeing the human, but the
boy continued walking below oblivious to its presence. It paced him
again, wanting to get nearer yet shying away at the same time.

Jeremy finally reached the crest of the
mountain where it cut deeply through the mountain ridge. He walked
to the edge of the roadway and stopped, searching briefly before
spotting a fist size chunk of brown rock that had fallen onto the
highway. He picked it up and strode back onto the asphalt, then
bent down and scratched a large message onto the road surface. When
he was done he crossed into the other lanes and did the same. He
had written ‘
Jeremy
was
here
.
I’m
OK’
in large, bold letters with the hope that his parents were still
following him. He then went over and sat on a pile of rock that had
slid down the cliff. He took out a morsel of beef jerky from a side
pocket, bit off a chunk, and absently chewed it, staring up at what
looked like an old, abandoned hotel at the entrance to the Blue
Ridge Parkway. He stared hard at the darkened windows trying to
detect any movement while wondering if there could be anything
useful to be found inside. The sudden tinkling caused by a cascade
of small stones down the cliff behind him sent his fight or flight
reflex into overdrive and he jumped forward while freeing the 9mm
from his holster with his right hand. He examined the cliff and
didn’t see anything moving. With his heart still trip-hammering in
his chest, he backed out onto the road surface, scanning the dark,
dense pine forest along the cliff’s edge for any sign of movement.
Nothing was stirring and after a few moments his heart rate slowed
and returned to normal, and he relaxed visibly.

Could
have
been
anything
he thought to himself,
maybe
a
squirrel
or
mouse
.

Nevertheless, he wasn’t quite convinced of
that. He peered back over at the old, glass-fronted hotel and again
considered trying to break in, then thought better of it. If it had
closed long before the world had ended, there wouldn’t be anything
left useful inside anyway. He holstered the pistol then swung the
sling of the AR around off his pack so that the firearm sat ready
against his chest, for he still had an uneasy feeling of being
watched gnawing at the back of his neck. He glanced back up the
cliff one last time and, not seeing anything, set off down the
highway where it dropped over the ridge toward the valley
below.

The German Shepherd dog stayed frozen in the
deeper shadows of the woods where it had scampered back to hide
after knocking loose the rock at the cliff’s edge. The roadway was
no longer in sight, yet still it heard the boy’s feet echoing off
of the cliff walls of the cut through the mountain. Relaxing
slightly, it bounded off at a gallop down the pine studded slope,
paralleling the boy. Soon it was far out ahead of him and stopped
to rest near the berm of the road, waiting for him to appear from
up around the bend.

Jeremy saw the animal crouched down low in
the high dead grass of the near side of the highway ahead of him.
He froze in his tracks, one hand slipping to the pistol grip of the
AR while the other released the catch that held the sling to the
front post. The creature was in the shadow of the mountain peak
behind him and all he could make out was its dark shape in the
knee-high brown grass. He took a tentative step forward and then
another, angling to pass the animal on the opposite berm. If it
came at him he would shoot it. When he was opposite it, the animal
stood up. At first Jeremy thought he was staring at a wolf, then it
sat down on its haunches, its tongue lolled out, and he could have
sworn it was smiling at him.

It was a dog.

“Hi buddy!” he called out, releasing one hand
from the AR and raising it in greeting.

The German Shepherd stood again and its tail
wagged briefly, however it didn’t move from its spot.

Jeremy didn’t sense any danger from the dog,
and from its body language it appeared to be friendly. He reached
into his pocket and pulled out the piece of beef jerky and held it
out in front of him.

“Hey boy, do you want this? Come on, puppy!”
he called in a calm, non-threatening voice.

The dog eyed the morsel in his hands, wagged
its tail some more, and let out a friendly bark while its back legs
danced side-to-side indecisively.

Jeremy took a step towards it, keeping his
eyes locked with the dog’s.
Oh
,
please
don’t
run
away
! he thought to himself. “You want to be my
friend?” he said out loud, still holding out the jerky and
advancing another step. The dog yipped and sat back again on its
haunches, its tail now intermittently wagging.

“Good boy!” he called out, using the most
non-intimidating smile he could muster as a ten year old. He had
now closed half the distance to the dog. He took a few more steps
and the dog bounded up and retreated a few feet and sat down on its
haunches again. Jeremy stopped and decided to try a new approach.
He knelt down and, still holding the jerky out for the dog, called
him again.

“Come on, boy. You want some of this?” He
wiggled the strip of jerky in his hand. The dog responded with a
friendly bark then with its head held low scooched cautiously
forward toward the boy. It reached out with its muzzle and grabbed
the jerky from his hand, rapidly scooting back out of reach while
wolfing down the strip of dried meat. It turned back around and
barked twice, its tail wagging a mile a minute. It still wouldn’t
let Jeremy approach.

“Okay, pooch,” Jeremy shrugged. “I guess when
you’re ready to be petted you’ll let me know.” He reattached the
sling to the front of the AR and headed down the road at a walk.
The dog dropped in behind and to his right just out of reach and
followed him. Jeremy smiled and for the first time since the world
had fallen apart, felt a smidgen of happiness. He had a friend
now.

It was afternoon by the time Steven and Kera
climbed up the steep, rocky slope of the mountain, switch-backing
up the densely forested grade. Both of them were covered in a thin
sheen of sweat when they reached the summit, even though the
mountain air was cool. A gentle breeze ruffled their hair as they
stood winded and exhausted on the boulder strewn crest. Behind them
in the valley snaked the shimmering expanse of the river while
before them another small valley ran northeast by southwest,
sandwiched between the mountain they had crested and another
parallel to it. The railroad line snaked up the valley following
the base of the mountain below them. The trestle over the river was
out of sight far up the valley behind the curve of the ridge. The
highway should lie in the expansive valley right on the other side
of the far slope.

Maybe
it
would
be
safer
to
follow
the
tracks
until
we
reach
the
western
side
of
Charlottesville
, Steven thought to
himself. Then something caught his eye. A thin plume of wood smoke
rose from the thick canopy of brightly colored leaves far down in
the valley beneath them.

“Do you think it’s people like us?” Kera
asked in a hopeful voice when she saw what drew his attention.

“Has to be. If Loonies are building fires,
we’re in deep shit.”

“Do you think it might be Jeremy?”

Steven shrugged. “Maybe. However I also don’t
want to get my hopes up.”

He slid his backpack off his shoulders and
rummaged around in a pocket, pulling out the compact binocular set.
He scanned the area where the barely visible streamer of white
smoke was emanating from.

“I can’t see anything. The leaves are still
too thick.” He stuck the binoculars back in the pack and shouldered
it again. “You ready?”

Kera nodded.

“Let’s try not to make too much noise on the
way down. We don’t want any surprises,” he said, and set off down
the steep slope thick with timber.

It took about forty-five minutes to traverse
the precipitous and rocky incline of the forested mountain,
carefully picking their way down toward the plume of misty-white
smoke. Soon it was lost to sight when they dropped down below the
tree line of the wide valley. They cautiously emerged into the
clearing of the railroad right of way and paused at the foot of the
raised grade, scanning up and down the track with their eyes,
trying to detect any movement or anything out of place. Kera asked
in a whisper if the Loonies they had evaded at the trestle might
come down the tracks. Steven didn’t have an answer. When they were
sure it was clear they scrambled up the grade and across the
tracks, running into the woods on the other side. Once within the
shadows of the trees, they quietly made their way across the soft
forest floor, stopping every few steps to listen and observe. They
had learned that such cautionary actions increased one’s chances of
survival.

It was during one of these pauses that the
scream tore through the forest, echoing off the distant cliffs and
causing Kera to inadvertently jump when she heard it. It was a
woman’s scream, full of pain and anguish. It wasn’t repeated. The
scream was followed by a gruff male voice whose anger resonated
through the woods, although the words themselves were muted and
unintelligible.

Steven motioned Kera to kneel down and then
leaned in close to her. “I don’t think that’s Jeremy,” he whispered
to her, his lips inches from her ear. “Follow me slowly and
quietly. We need to get close without being seen.”

Kera nodded in understanding and gripped her
shotgun tightly to her chest.

Steven made sure her firearm was loaded and
ready and did the same with his rifle, then crept forward,
crouching low and using the trees and boulders for concealment.
They could smell the wood smoke now and every so often caught a
murmur of men’s voices in conversation. Through an opening about
fifty yards up ahead in a small clearing, they spied a squatter’s
camp consisting of two large tents, a central campfire with a metal
grate propped up on rocks over the flames, and benches around it
made of old logs. Two large men in a mix-match of camouflage
clothing sat around the fire talking and drinking from enameled
cups. They both had long, straggly hair and thick, dark beards.
Steven spotted at least two rifles leaning against the logs next to
the men and one wore a western style holster with a wheel gun in
it. Tied to a tree behind them were two young women, filthy and
naked. Their wrists were bound tightly together and their arms
stretched painfully above their heads by a rope looped over an
overhead branch binding one woman’s arms to the other and forcing
them to stand on the tips of their toes. A length of barbed wire
wrapped around the tree and their necks, trussing them tightly to
the trunk. They stared outward with dull, glazed eyes.