Apocalyptic Visions Super Boxset (145 page)

***

Kalen had her ear pressed against the other side of the door, listening to Mary, Nancy, and Erin. Both Anne and Ulysses heard the commotion from inside their room and lingered at the end of the hallway. Kalen walked down to meet them.

“It’s going to be hard for them,” Kalen said when she joined her mom in the kitchen.

“It’s been hard for everyone, sweetheart,” Anne said.

“Maybe, but me and Freddy only lost Dad. We still have you and grandpa. They lost both their parents.”

Kalen realized that they hadn’t spoken about her dad since they arrived. No one had mentioned him. None of them had taken the time to slow down and talk about it.

“We didn’t get to say goodbye,” Kalen said.

“No, we didn’t,” Anne said.

Ulysses moved uncomfortably in his chair. He pushed himself up off the armrests and hobbled to the door. He limped down the front steps and onto the pine needle ground of the forest floor. The pain shooting up his leg became too much and he stopped to lean against the Jeep, propping himself up for support.

Anne and Kalen came running outside after him.

“Ulysses,” Anne said.

Kalen wrapped her arms around her grandfather and buried her face into his chest. Ulysses wrapped her up. His body was shaking. Anne walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him.

“I don’t have anything else!” Fay screamed.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” he said.

“Guys, knock it off,” Mike said.

It was the third time they had stopped like this today. Fay and Tom had been building up some animosity toward one another since yesterday.

Fay had her rifle gripped a little too tightly. The barrel was next to Tom’s head. He shoved the barrel down. Mike jumped in before Fay swung at him.

“Enough!” Mike said.

Jung and Jenna held Jung Jr. and Claire in their arms. Sean hid behind Nelson’s legs. Clarence came over with Mike to help diffuse the situation.

“Break it up you two,” Clarence said.

“Look, I’m not the one who decided to remember to bring their stupid watch instead of enough food to last them the trip!” Fay shouted.

“The only reason I didn’t have enough food was because I was helping you get your supplies,” Tom said.

“Take it easy, Tom,” Mike said.

Mike turned, took Fay by the shoulders and pointed her down the road.

“And you keep walking,” he said.

Fay stomped off and headed down the pavement. The To family, Nelson and Sean, and Clarence followed after her. Mike hung back with Tom.

“She knows I’m right,” Tom said.

“You don’t have anything left?” Mike asked.

When Tom exhaled the fight went out of him. He swung his pack around and unzipped the main pouch. He opened it up and Mike glanced inside. It was completely empty.

“I told you that it would be at least a two day trip, Tom,” Mike said.

“I know! It’s just… I haven’t been rationing like you told us to.”

Mike dropped his pack to the ground and pulled out a can of peaches. He handed it to Tom.

“I only have one of those left, so that has to last you until tonight. We should be at the cabin by then,” Mike said.

“Thanks.”

***

The road was taking its toll on everyone, especially the kids. Sean had been such a good sport the entire time, but he was starting to wear down. Nelson could see it on his face.

“Dad?” Sean asked.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“How much longer do we have to go?”

“We’re almost there. Just a little while longer.”

The lump on the side of Nelson’s face had gone down. The headaches were also starting to subside. He hadn’t mentioned anything to anyone, but he was still having nightmares from when they were mugged on their first day out.

He was so embarrassed about what happened. If Mike hadn’t been there then he could have died. Sean could have been hurt, kidnapped, or killed.

He was also struggling with what he’d done back in the neighborhood when Mike’s house was burning down. Nelson tried to justify it in his mind that if he hadn’t killed Ted, then Mike would have been the one to die. The justification of killing was never a choice he thought he’d have to make.

“Hey, Dad?” Sean asked.

“Yeah?”

“How long do you think it’ll take Mom to catch up with us once she gets home?”

That was a topic Nelson had evaded desperately. He hadn’t spoken about his wife with Sean since they’d left. He knew it was going to be hard for Sean to understand that they wouldn’t see her again, and he didn’t want to see his son suffer anymore.

“I don’t know, bud,” Nelson said.

“I just hope we left her enough food to make it. I know that we don’t have much left and I think we took more than we left for her.”

“Well, you know Mom could never finish her meals anyway. We always had to help her with desert, remember?”

“That’s true.”

Sean stayed quiet a moment before he spoke up again.

“Is Mom dead?” Sean asked.

“What? Why would you say that?” Nelson asked.

“I don’t know. We don’t talk about her and I thought she’d be here by now. I keep thinking that any minute she’s going to appear behind us on the road, shouting our names, and we’ll see her running to catch up with us, but every time I turn around to check nobody’s there.”

Nelson could feel his legs growing weak. He knelt down in front of his son. He smoothed Sean’s wavy blonde hair. He had his mother’s nose and her eyes. When he looked into his son’s face he could see her as clear as day.

“Well, then let’s talk about her more, okay? That way we can remember all the good stuff,” Nelson answered.

“Okay.”

“Do you remember her favorite ice cream?”

“Mint chocolate chip.”

“That’s right. And do you remember what she did when you were in the school play last year as Peter Pan and you lost your costume the day before opening night?”

“She made me a new one,” Sean said smiling.

As they walked Nelson continued to talk about his wife with his son. Its purpose had been to make Sean feel better, but the more they spoke about her, the lighter the burden of remembering her felt.

“She made the best macaroni and cheese,” Sean added.

“Do you remember when you were in first grade and Mom wasn’t feeling well and you tried to cook some of the spaghetti art you made for her?”

“Yeah, I remember you finding me and asking me what I was doing and then we had to throw away all of the spaghetti art in the house because I got mad at you for not letting me cook for her.”

“I actually don’t think I’d mind having some of that spaghetti art right about now.”

“Me either.”

Sean giggled and Nelson threw his arm around his son. He turned around and saw Mike making his way toward them with Tom in tow.

“Looks like Tom and Fay sorted out whatever was wrong,” Nelson said.

Mike pulled Nelson aside. He kept his voice low so nobody within earshot could hear.

“Everyone’s running low on food. Watch yourself,” Mike said.

Nelson watched Mike head to the front of the group, but saw him slow down once he made it. The whole group stopped, but nobody understood why. Nelson squinted in the distance to see what Mike was looking at, but it was too far to see. It wasn’t until the gunshots rang out that he realized what Mike was looking at.

***

“Jenna!” Jung yelled.

He rushed over to her. Claire and Jung Jr. were both crying. Jung Jr. had his mother’s blood on his face, shirt, and hands. He stared down at her, lying on the ground with a hole in her shoulder, oozing blood.

Everyone hit the ground once the gunshots were fired. Mike had waited for more shots to ring out, but nothing came. He looked through the sight of his rifle, trying to locate the source of the shot. He scanned the roadside, along the trees, around the abandoned cars, but he couldn’t see anyone.

He could only hear the screams coming from Jung who was hunched over his wife, keeping pressure on the wound.

“Jung! Get your family off the road and into the trees. Tom, help Jung carry Jenna,” Mike said.

Tom rushed over and hoisted Jenna up, lifting under her armpits. Mike looked up at Fay who was also flat on her belly looking through her scope, scanning to see where the gunfire had come from.

“Anything, Fay?” Mike asked.

Her right eye was squinted shut, while the other peered through the scope and her mouth hung open trying to locate the shooter.

“Not yet.” She continued looking. “Wait, I think I have something. Red sedan about one hundred yards out,” Fay said.

Mike swung his rifle to the sedan. She was right. Mike could see the top half of a head through the shattered back windows.

“Do you have a shot?” Mike asked.

“No.”

“Keep an eye on him until we get Jenna over to the trees.”

The tree line was thirty yards from the highway. Mike watched Jung and Tom carry Jenna through the open field of grass. He glanced back into his sight, relocating the shooter, whose rifle was positioned on the trunk of the car, pointed in the direction where Jenna was being taken.

Mike exhaled. He lined up his shot and squeezed the trigger on his rifle. The opposing shooter ducked back behind the vehicle. Mike’s eye searched the rest of the car. He went up and down trying to see if he could get another clean shot off, but found none. He looked back over and saw that the group had made it safely to the tree line.

“Fay, head for the forest. I’ll cover you. When you get in position keep an eye on the shooter for my run over, got it?” Mike asked.

“Okay,” she answered.

Mike stared down the road at the sedan. He could hear Fay’s footsteps hit the pavement and then disappear onto the grass. He felt the gravel of the road digging through his shirt into his stomach. His elbows rested on the hard asphalt, causing pain to shoot up through his arms. He waited a few more seconds before he looked over and saw Fay in the tree line with her rifle pointed toward the sedan.

Mike pushed himself off the pavement and sprinted toward the forest to meet with the rest of the group. His feet were heavy and slow. After days of walking with little to no sleep his body wasn’t holding together very well.

When he made it to the forest he smacked against a tree trunk for support. He could feel the sharp pain in his lungs with each breath. He tried to gain his composure, but he was feeling light headed.

Jung gripped Mike’s shoulder. Jenna’s blood covered Jung’s hands.

“Mike, help Jenna,” Jung said.

“Fay, make sure you keep an eye out,” Mike said.

“Got it,” Fay answered.

The bloodstain around Jenna’s shoulder covered most of her arm and the top half of her shirt. Mike ripped the shirt around the source of the wound to get a better look. The blood poured out of her like a river. He checked the back of her shoulder for an exit wound.

“The bullet’s still inside,” Mike said.

Mike grabbed Tom’s hands and placed them over Jenna’s shoulder. She cried out in pain from the pressure.

“Keep firm, even pressure on it,” Mike explained. “It’s going to hurt for her either way, so we need to keep as much blood in her as possible.”

Mike swung his backpack around. He unzipped the main pack flinging out extra clothes, water, and food until he pulled out a small medical kit he found at the airport. He popped the hatches off the top and pushed the bandages aside until he reached a pair of tweezers.

“Clarence, hold her down,” Mike said.

Clarence brought the weight of his body down on Jenna’s arms and legs.

“Jenna, this is going to hurt, but I need to get the bullet out so it doesn’t get infected okay?” Mike said.

“G-give me some medicine,” Jenna said.

“I don’t have anything to give you. I’ll try and make it quick,” Mike said.

Mike dug the tweezers into the open gash on Fay’s shoulder and she let out a scream. Her good arm and legs swung wildly as she tried to push them off of her.

“Keep her still!” Mike said.

Clarence pressed down harder, but Fay was going wild. Each time Mike dug deeper into Fay’s shoulder more blood poured out followed by writhing and screams. Mike probed through the jagged pieces of flesh until he reached the tip of the bullet.

“I think it got it,” Mike said.

Mike pulled out a .224 round and dumped it on the ground. The leaves, grass, and twigs around them were stained red. He grabbed the bandages from the medical kit. He handed a few to Tom and placed the bulk of the bandages on the wound itself. Mike wrapped it tightly.
“I’ve done what I can,” Mike said.

Jung dropped to his wife’s side. He held her hand in his. Mike crept over to Fay who was still watching the red sedan in the distance.

“Whoever shot her is still there. I didn’t see anyone come or go,” Fay said.

“Just the one?” Mike asked.

“As far as I can tell. Unless there’s another person down the road, or back behind the tree lines.”

“Let me see your scope,” Mike said.

The red sedan came into view, but he couldn’t see anyone. He moved the barrel a bit to the right to get a different view and then saw the shooter with his gun over the hood of the car, aimed right at him.

The bullet flew into the tree next to Mike, sending pieces of wood splintering into the air.

“So I guess he’s still there,” Fay said.

“Move everyone deeper into the trees,” Mike said.

Nelson grabbed Jung Jr. and Claire and led them deeper into the forest. Jung and Tom carried Jenna, and Clarence came up to join Mike and Fay by the tree line.

“What are we going to do?” Clarence asked.

Mike poked his head out just a bit to get another look at the sedan, then glanced up into the sky. It was only mid-afternoon and it would be another six hours before it became dark.

“If we don’t get Jenna some serious medical attention she could get an infection, blood poisoning, anything,” Mike said.

“But you took the bullet out,” Clarence said.

“That doesn’t mean she’s in the clear just yet,” Mike answered.

“We can move through the trees, deep enough to where he wouldn’t be able to hit us, but close enough for us to still see the road,” Fay said.

“I don’t want to risk this guy following us,” Mike said. “Clarence, you still have the pistol I gave you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Trade me.”

Clarence pulled the pistol from his waistband and handed it to Mike who gave him the rifle.

“Listen, I’m going to move down the edge of the forest until I get parallel with the car. I’m going to make a sprint for the sedan and try to force him out. When I start firing that’s when you guys give me cover,” Mike said.

“Mike, that’s a terrible idea,” Fay said.

“Yeah, what if we miss, or what if he shoots you before you get to the car?” Clarence added.

“You two are the best shots in the group beside myself, and neither of you have had any training in close combat situations, so I’m making the run. It’ll force his hand. He’ll either fire back, or he’ll run.”

“Mike, think about what you’re doing,” Fay said.

“Keep a bead on him. We’ll hit from both angles. Confuse him,” Mike said.

Before Fay could stop him Mike rushed off. He weaved in and out of the trees keeping an eye on the sedan in the distance. Once he was parallel to the car on the road he crouched down.

Mike ejected the magazine from the pistol, checking the number of shots he had.
Thirteen.

He shoved the magazine back into the pistol and racked the bullet from the magazine into the chamber. His thumb flipped the safety off. He took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the nerves melt out of him. He closed his eyes, slowly controlling his breathing through his nose.

When Mike opened his eyes he aimed the pistol and sprinted for the sedan twenty yards away. Dirt flew up from the ground as he tore off into the field separating the highway from the forest. He squeezed the trigger sending bullets into the trunk of the car, then another barrage of bullets went flying into the side of the sedan coming from Fay and Clarence.

Mike was ten yards away now and he could see the boots of a man underneath the front of the car by the hood. The clank of bullets from Fay and Clarence smacked against the side of the car.

Mike could see the shooter’s head now and the hail of bullets from Fay and Clarence hitting the car stopped when Mike reached the trunk. He dashed along the backside, his finger on the trigger, when the shooter came into full view.

He must have been no older than seventeen. The boy’s rifle was on the ground next to him and his hands were in the air. Mike’s finger left the trigger as he kicked the boy’s rifle away from him on the ground.

“Please,” the boy said.

“What are you doing out here? Why’d you shoot at us?” Mike asked.

“I thought you were with the people in town. I thought you were coming to hurt my family.”

“People in town? What town?”

“Carrollton. It’s just a few miles west of here. We had a group of bikers ride through and they killed everyone. They killed my grandfather. I just didn’t want anyone else to hurt my family.”

Mike picked the boy up by the scruff of his neck and threw him onto the hood of the car.

“So you thought you’d shoot at a group of people traveling with children?” Mike asked keeping the gun pointed at him.

The young man’s arms were out wide, his palms still up in surrender.

“I didn’t even mean to hit anyone. I was just trying to scare you. I swear,” the boy said.

“Your family still in town?”

“No, we have a farm just outside of it. It runs right along this road a few miles west. That’s why I was out here, to keep watch.”

Mike glanced down the road where the boy’s farm would be, then grabbed the collar of his shirt pulling him toward him.

“You have anyone else keeping watch?” Mike asked.

“No, it’s just me. It’s just me.”

Mike backed up, leaving the boy on the hood of the car. Mike picked up the rifle the boy dropped and slung it over his shoulder. With his pistol, Mike gestured toward the tree line.

“Walk,” Mike said.

The boy rolled off the hood of the car and started marching toward the forest. He kept glancing back at Mike, his eyes red and wet.