Voodoo Plague - 01 (8 page)

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Authors: Dirk Patton

BOOK: Voodoo Plague - 01
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12

 

 

I started the
truck, twisted the right wires together to keep it running and stepped out of
the cab so Rachel could slide behind the wheel.  In place, she put her foot on
the brake and held it there while shifting the big transmission into drive so
the truck was ready to go the instant I raised the garage door.

The roll up door
had a row of grimy windows set into it at head height so I was able to look out
to the parking lot and surrounding area for any threats.  Several infected
males were slowly lumbering down the street, apparently aimless in their
travels, but they were far enough away to not be an immediate concern.

I was more
worried about the females.  The one that had attacked me the night before had
been so damn fast and strong it was scary.  My only advantage had been that I
outweighed her by a good 100 pounds, and not for the first time I was thankful
that as I settled into corporate life I had kept myself in shape.  Two hours a
day in the gym had been a pain, but I was still one strong son of a bitch.  All
that said, I didn’t want to get in a foot race with one of the females.

I scanned the
area again, moving to change my viewing angle, but still saw nothing other than
the males.  No vehicles moving, no other uninfected people moving, no animals,
and thankfully no infected females.

Glancing back at
Rachel we made eye contact and I nodded that the area was clear.  She nodded
back to indicate she was ready.  Glock in my right hand I released the door’s
locking pin with my left and pulled up on the door, shoving it all the way
open.

I stepped out of
the open bay door and into a two handed shooting stance with the Glock at low
ready which means the weapon was at a forty five degree down angle from my body
with both arms straight out in front of me.  It would take a fraction of a
second for me to raise the pistol and engage a target if we were threatened.

The note of the
diesel engine rose as Rachel fed it some fuel and the truck rolled out of the
garage and stopped when it was completely clear.  I started moving quickly for
the cab but spun around when I heard running feet behind me.  The pistol
swiveled with me and raised as I spun, eyes searching for a target, but I was
caught off guard by what I saw.

Running towards
me with a guttural snarl was a little girl that couldn’t have been more than
ten years old.  The front of her shirt was covered with blood and her eyes
fairly glowed blood red.  I hesitated pulling the trigger.  Any adult attacking
me would have already been shot, but I wasn’t prepared for a child.

Recovering from
my hesitation I realized it was too late to shoot.  Stepping to the side as she
launched herself into the air I clubbed the back of her head with the pistol
butt as she flashed past me, landing in a heap of flailing limbs by the rear
tire of the truck.

Now I’m a big,
strong, solid guy and I hit her hard.  Not a tap.  Hard.  Hard enough to have
brought down a grown man.  She couldn’t have weighed more than sixty pounds,
but she sprang back to her feet like all I had done was slap her. 

“Fuck this,” I
muttered to myself and side stepped so the truck was no longer behind her in my
line of fire. 

She snarled and
raised her arms, hands held like claws, but I fired before she could charge. 
The body dropped to the pavement and lay still.

Spinning I
sighted in on the males that had been in the street, but they were still more
than 20 yards away and moving just slightly faster than a slow lumber. 
Grabbing the handle I yanked the door open and slid behind the wheel of the
truck as Rachel moved out of my way.

Dropping the
truck into drive I accelerated straight for the approaching infected males and
ran down two of them.  The massive push bar on the front knocked them to the
ground then they felt like minor speed bumps as the big off road tires bounced
over the bodies.

At the street I
turned right and continued our westerly direction of travel.  After a bit I
realized that Rachel was watching me and I turned to meet her gaze.

“Are you OK?”
She asked.

“Just fine,” I
answered after a bit. “I always wanted to shoot a little girl in the head.”

After a moment
Rachel placed her hand on my right arm and left it there.  We drove that way
for a while, neither of us saying anything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

13

 

 

We kept working
our way west, keeping our speed down enough to avoid accidents and the
lumbering males, but fast enough that all the females could do was run at us as
we quickly outpaced them.  I was not comforted to see that when they started
chasing us they didn’t give up until we were out of sight.  This didn’t bode
well for us if we ever found ourselves on foot.  We’d be quickly run to ground
unless we could find secure shelter or fight them off.

We had yet to
see any uninfected people since the attempted ambush the day before.  This
changed as we approached a four lane state highway that ran roughly north and
south. 

A small group of
five men stood around an ancient Ford Taurus in a convenience store parking
lot, staring at us as we approached.  They looked like blue collar workers and
were armed with a variety of hunting rifles and shotguns.  

I felt Rachel
tense up next to me as we approached, but she didn’t say anything.  The men
didn’t try to flag us down and didn’t make any threatening moves with their
weapons, but I’m not a great believer in the goodness or charity of the human
race so I accelerated slightly as we drew abreast of them and kept going.

“You didn’t
trust them?” Rachel asked when we crested a rise in the road and could no
longer see them behind us.

“Let’s just put
it this way.  We’re in no position to help them and at the moment we don’t need
their help.  Probably better for all to keep our distance.”  I answered.

“People are
going to be getting hungry very quickly, and they’re already scared.  That’s a
dangerous combination.  Add to that the fact that civil authority has
evaporated and there’s not much that would prevent a group like that from
trying to kill me and take you and the truck.”

Rachel thought about
that for a moment before answering, “You have a pretty dim view of society.”

“I can’t
remember who said it, but the quote is something like ‘Society is only a thin
veneer that masks the animal that man really is’, or something like that.  I’ve
seen for myself what people do when there’s no authority in charge.”

Rachel started
to answer but stopped herself and pointed at a side road we had just passed. 
“Would an outfitters shop have what we need?”

By way of answer
I hit the brakes and slowed the truck enough to make a U-Turn in the middle of
the road.  For once in my life I wouldn’t have minded a cop showing up to give
me a ticket for the illegal maneuver.

I drove back to
the side street and turned the direction Rachel had pointed.  A block down on
our left was a small cinder block building with a chain link fence protecting
the rear parking lot.  The sign on the front advertised that it was an
outfitter for hunting and shooting.  Underneath in slightly smaller lettering
that looked like an afterthought the sign said the store was a one stop shop
for all my tactical needs.

I grinned from
ear to ear.  This was like a present being dropped in my lap.  A moment later
the grin disappeared when I turned the corner to get the truck off the main
road.  The steel security door was torn out of its frame and lay on the
sidewalk.  The inside of the store was dark and I couldn’t tell if there were a
hundred infected waiting inside for me or if it was empty.  Oh well, only one
way to find out. 

Parking the
truck by the door I left the motor running.  I was torn as the diesel engine
was so loud it would mask the sound of threats, but having the truck ready to
go might save our lives.  I opted to take the risk and deal with the engine
noise.

Carefully
scanning in all directions I couldn’t detect any threats.  I told Rachel to
slide behind the wheel, lock the doors, put the truck in drive and keep her
foot on the brake.  In an emergency I could dive into the bed of the truck and
she could have us moving instantly.

Pistol in a two
handed combat grip I stepped around the back of the truck and flattened my back
against the cinder block wall next to the open doorway.  I wasn’t wild about
stepping into that doorway and silhouetting myself for anyone lying in wait,
but we needed the type of supplies that were still hopefully in the store.

I leaned my head
forward and tried to see through the door, but the daylight penetrated a few
feet at best, the rest of the store invisible to my day adjusted vision. 
Taking a deep breath I moved, stepping sideways through the door and out of the
light as quickly as I could.

Pistol up and
ready to fire I scanned my surroundings as best I could in the dark, my hands
keeping the pistol perfectly synchronized with my line of sight as I’d been taught
so many years ago.

A
bumping/shuffling sound caught my attention from deeper in the gloom and I
focused on the direction it was coming from.  My eyes were adjusting to the
gloom and I realized it wasn’t pitch black in the store.  I could see what
looked like a body on the floor a few yards away, then it stood up and the
stray light caught its eyes which flashed a bright yellow.

I was caught off
guard, expecting an infected to stand up.  Instead a large German Shepherd
stood there, tail held tightly between its back legs and head lowered below
shoulder level.  He stared at me and me at him.  A long moment later he let out
a low whine and slowly sat down.

Now I’m a sucker
for dogs.  Trusting that the dog would be more agitated if there were any
threats in the store I cautiously approached him.  He tracked me with those
yellow eyes the whole time, head and ears up, but he didn’t try to move away or
exhibit any aggressive behavior.

When I got close
I started talking to him in a low, even voice.  I kept approaching until I was
a foot in front of him with my hand held out for him to sniff the back.  He
gave me a sniff, then a lick on my hand and another low whine.  His tongue and
nose was as dry as sandpaper.

I turned my hand
over and placed it on top of his head, gently scratching between his ears, then
working down to his collar.  A leash that I couldn’t see in the gloom connected
his collar to an eyebolt set into a steel framed display case.

Trusting my new
friend I squatted down with my face just inches in front of his and unhooked
the leash.  He immediately stood up and shook, then nuzzled my hand and moved
to press his flank against my leg.

The dog was
seriously dehydrated, probably having gone a couple of days without water.  I’d
take care of that shortly.  He was going with me if he would get in the truck.

Stepping behind
the display counter I started searching the store.  From next to the register I
grabbed a fistful of plastic bags and started filling them with everything I
could find that might be useful.  I was excited to find a handheld GPS and
stuffed that into a bag with lots of extra batteries.  A lantern, portable cook
stove, a mess kit for camping, socks, boots (I took a guess on Rachel’s size),
clothing, and much more.

The store had
been ransacked and so far it looked like the looters had been after weapons and
ammunition.  Those were the two things I hadn’t found any of yet.  Still
grabbing items I came across some canvas duffel bags and shoved all of my
filled plastic shopping bags into them.

When I had two
large duffels so full I could barely zip them I set them by the end of the
counter and snapped on a small flashlight I’d found.  The display cases that
apparently had held firearms were all smashed and empty.  The shelves behind
them that were stickered for ammunition were also bare.

I started
looking for a back room or office, doubting that the owner had his entire
inventory out on display.  A door behind a rack of boony hats was marked
PRIVATE and was still intact.  Grabbing one of the hats and putting it on my
head I opened the door and walked into the arms of an infected male who had
been trapped in the office.

The dog let out
a growl and launched off the ground, clamping his powerful jaws on the man’s
forearm.  The weight of the dog drug the arm down and unbalanced the infected. 
This bought me the opportunity to push away, shove the pistol into the soft
tissue under its chin and pull the trigger.  The muffled shot blew out the top
of its head and the body dropped to the floor, the dog releasing his bite and
sitting down as if he were guarding the body.

I scanned the
room with the small flashlight and spotted what I’d hoped to see.  A vault was
set into the side wall of the room.  The door was closed and I held my breath
as I tugged on the handle.  I sighed with relief when it came open, battery
powered lights snapping on to illuminate the inside.

The vault wasn’t
large, probably no more than eight by ten feet, but as I hoped there were
weapons and ammunition stored inside.  I looked over my shoulder at the
infected I’d just killed, probably the store owner, and thanked him.

Ten minutes
later, freshly armed, I stepped out of the vault with a duffel bag full of
ammo.  It must have weighed over 100 pounds, which sounds like a lot of ammo,
but I know from experience just how fast you can burn through bullets in a
firefight.  I had cleaned out the vault and it was time to go.

Back in the main
store area I adjusted the sling of the M4 rifle I’d just acquired, grabbed the
two waiting duffels with my left hand and ammo duffel in my right and headed
for the door where I could hear the waiting diesel idling loudly.  The dog
stayed by my side and I was glad to see his tail had come up slightly as he got
more comfortable with me.

We stepped
through the door into the daylight and I was momentarily blinded.  I knew
better, should have stood inside the doorway looking out for a few moments to
give my eyes a chance to adjust, but my mental clock was screaming at me that
we’d been in one place too long.  The dog growled deep in his chest as a deep
voice with a thick Georgia accent told me to stop right where I was.

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