Family Reunion "J" (28 page)

Jay nodded. “Okay, now tell me why you set off fireworks the first night I was here.”

“Another mistake that ended up being an interesting discovery. Richard knew that he could see the fireworks show we put on every Fourth of July from his place twenty-five miles northwest of here. He talked me into shooting a bunch off on the third night of the outbreak to signal the others in the area that we were still here. It worked well; the next day, several survivors from the area came by and we began consolidating our defenses. What we didn’t foresee happening was the horde of crazies that showed up when we set them off. Seems they are fans of pretty lights in the sky. Again, Richard came up with a plan, this time to clear the area of crazies by luring them in with the fireworks and blasting them with the UV lights. We stopped when you told us about the Winston-Salem gang; no sense in advertising our location to unfriendly types.”

“Huh, sounded like Richard knew about them already.”

“One of the others they captured, before he died, told them about Riggs’s role in the gang and about their camp. Riggs is the ugly guy you saw tied to the chair.”

Jay nodded. She stretched and yawned deeply. “Auddy, I have to talk to Jon about our plans to head north. Why don’t you go get some sleep, and I’ll be along shortly.”

Auddy said goodnight to Ben, got up, and headed for the women’s bunkroom. The bunkroom used to be the leather shop. It smelled wonderful but was hot when the big generator was shut down, which was most of the night.

“You should probably wait until we hear back from Richard before you leave,” Ben said, furrowing his brow.

“Well, if he comes back tomorrow morning that will work. If not, then we will just have to avoid the area controlled by the gang. Have you seen Jon lately?”

Ben didn’t look happy at her response, but nodded. “He and Gwenn are helping Tami down in the root cellar. Go out the back door and you’ll see the garage out back. The root cellar is in there.”

“Am I missing something? It’s dark outside. Should we be traipsing around out there?”

“It’s still twilight and we have guards posted around the perimeter of the roof. They all have night vision goggles for after dark. If there were any of the vaccinated in the area, they would have already raised the alarm.” He handed her a walkie-talkie. “Channel six, let them know you are going out there.” With that, he got up and went to get more coffee.

Jay could tell that Ben was not happy with her decision to press on and leave for home, but she really didn’t care. She radioed the guys on watch that she was headed to the root cellar.

“No sign of any boogeymen tonight so far, you’re clear.” She recognized Gerald’s voice. He might be an immature little prick, but it was apparent that he did his fair share of the work around here.

She double-clicked the transmit button in response and headed for the root cellar.

Jon and Gwenn were big NASCAR fans. They routinely visited the races on the east coast that were within easy traveling distance of West Virginia. They’d been on vacation when the shit hit the fan. Jon loved the night race in Charlotte, North Carolina, and that’s where they went before heading down the coast to spend some well-deserved R&R time at the beach. Everything started going to shit and they left the beach the day before things really began to unravel. They made it as far as Sparky’s with about four hundred other people.

That first night they’d taken up a spot on the porch that ran down one side of the building. It was a decision that saved their lives. Gwenn had complained that “it’s too damned hot to be sardined in that building with all those people.” Jon agreed and sat with her on the porch with a couple of other families. Early that evening several people died from the flu. A two-year old died in his mother’s arms right next to Gwenn. It was all too much for her sensibilities and she got up and left the porch and the wailing mother.

Jon got up and followed her as she walked down the road. “Where are you going?” he asked when they were about two hundred yards from Sparky’s. “I don’t know, back to the truck.” Jon took a couple of extra-long strides and caught up with her. “Sweetie, hold on for a minute.”

She whirled on him with a look that would scare most smart people, but Jon continued. “Gwenn, we need to stay close. The owner said that the governor called out the National Guard. They should be here before morning. He is sure they’ll come here, if only because they know they can get fuel here.”

“Jon! I’m not sitting around with babies dying right next to me. Why don’t you get that?” She said this as if the situation were more or less his fault. The fact was, he did get it. Some might mistake her attitude as “bitchy,” but he knew she was just scared.

“Okay fine, we’re away from them now. Let’s stop and check these cars. Maybe we can just hang out in one of them until the Guard gets here.” He waved at the traffic jam that went as far as the eye could see. “The truck is way down the road.”

By way of answer, she turned and tried the door of the car closest to them. Finding it locked, she worked her way around the entire car, then moved to the next one over. She looked up. “Well, are you going to help me or not?”

Their search covered fifty-plus vehicles. Many people opted to stay put in their cars to await rescue. They eyed Jon and Gwenn suspiciously as the couple tried to find one in which they could seek refuge. Groups of people milled around the cars in places, seeking information from each other. Here and there, you could hear radio stations playing. Most were broadcasting news updates of the ongoing battle against the flu pandemic. One man called out to them and told them to get the hell away. They steered clear of his vehicle and resumed searching farther down the traffic jam.

Jon pulled on the handle of a minivan and the rear glass portion of the hatch popped open. An hour had passed since they started checking vehicles and the light was fading quickly. “Hey, got it!” he called to Gwenn, who was two cars over. She made her way over. “I was starting to wonder if we would ever find one open. What do we say if these people come back?” she asked.

“We tell them the truth, that we just needed a place to rest,” Jon said as he crawled over the back seat of the van and unlocked the sliding door. The car retained the heat of the day and Jon had sweat dripping from his nose by the time he got the door open. He unlocked the other doors with the switch next to the driver’s seat, then began opening them as well to allow the vehicle some circulation. He searched around the seats and above the sun visor for the keys but came up empty.

“Well, we found someplace to rest, but we’ll either have to leave the doors open or suffer the heat. No keys means no power, no power means the windows stay rolled up.”

There were no other people within the immediate area. The closest were a group hanging out around a supermarket semitruck three hundred yards north of the minivan. The driver risked his job by opening the back of his trailer to hand out food.

Jon examined the seats in the back of the minivan. “I’m going to remove this bench seat and set it out here, cooler than staying inside. When it cools down we can sleep in the back here where the seat normally sits.”

Gwenn shielded her eyes from the setting sun with a raised hand. “It will be getting dark soon enough; hopefully it will cool off some. I still haven’t been able to get a call out. It’s giving me the ‘all circuits are busy’ message.” She looked at her smart phone again, only to frown. “Now it’s showing no signal at all. Can this day get any worse?”

“I hope not,” Jon replied, wishing he’d gotten some water from Sparky’s before they left.

Once Jon had removed the seat, he left Gwenn with instructions to stay put. He headed for the semitruck to see if there was any water available. It wasn’t dark yet, but the sun was now below the horizon. Gwenn gave him a quick lecture about being careful. He said, “Yes dear” as he walked away.

By the time he got to the semitruck, the sky had gone three shades darker and it was becoming more difficult to maneuver around the cars.

“Hey,” Jon called out to the driver, who was sitting in the open doorway of the trailer, feet dangling.

“Hey,” the guy answered without much enthusiasm.

“Got any water?”

“No. I do have some warm lemonade left.”

“May I buy some?” Jon said, reaching for his wallet.

The driver laughed then. “No, I don’t want any money.” He struggled to get up and disappeared into the trailer. He came back a minute later with four bottles of store-brand lemonade. “Here ya go,” he said and handed them to Jon, who had come close enough to reach up for them.

He thanked the man. “So, any news on your CB?” Jon asked, pointing to the attached tractor. The driver shook his head. “No CB, against company policy. Can’t get out on cell phone either. I did receive a message from my dispatcher.”

“How? If your phone won’t work and you don’t have a CB, then how did you get a message from your dispatcher?”

“We have satellite receivers on our trucks. We can’t send out messages, but they can track us and send us messages.”

“Do you mind me asking what the message was?”

“No, don’t mind at all. It said I was behind schedule and that if I didn’t make it to the depot in Charlotte on time, my check would be docked.” He shook his head. “People are dying of this damn flu and all they are worried about is whether I get my load in on time.”

Jon held up one of the lemonades. “If they’re going to dock your pay for being late, what are they going to do about your truck being empty?”

He smiled. “Frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass. Fuck em’.”

Jon was about to thank him and leave when he heard a weird shrieking sound. “You hear that?” he asked the trucker.

The driver jumped down. It was almost fully dark now. He turned on a bright flashlight and shined it down the row of vehicles ahead. “Yeah, sounds like a wounded animal or something.”

The trucker kept walking toward the front of his truck, pointing the light ahead of him as he went. Jon followed the bouncing light as it shined several hundred feet ahead of the driver. He saw someone at the edge of its reach.

Gwenn heard the shrieking animal and stood up, trying to see if she could see Jon. It was just too dark. She got into the minivan and turned on the headlights, then got back out and stood on her tiptoes. At five foot three, she was a full foot shorter than Jon; he kidded her about it, saying it gave him a handy spot to set his beer. Now she strained to see where he was. Still not having much luck, she climbed onto the car next to the minivan for a better vantage point.

Jon realized that the truck driver had stopped. His light illuminated several people about a hundred yards ahead of him. They were running between the cars, shouting something at the trucker. Another sound reached Jon. This time it was not an animal screaming, but a human. It made him flush as a shot of adrenaline accompanied the screams. He tried to process the situation; something was attacking people, an animal of some kind, but what the hell could it be? Wild pigs, a cougar? About that time, one of the people running crashed into the side of a car. As he got up, another person immediately attacked him from behind. The second guy tore into the runner, ripping him to shreds. Jon couldn’t see any details, but he didn’t need to. Bright red blood splashed, caught in the beam of the trucker’s flashlight. That was the last thing Jon saw. As the trucker turned to run away, the flashlight shined in Jon’s eyes.

Gwenn heard the screams, but all she could see was the beam of a flashlight shining away from her. Then the light turned toward her and she thought she saw Jon for a moment by the semitruck, but the light was bouncing around so much that she couldn’t be sure. So she did the only other thing she could think to do. She screamed his name.

Time didn’t slow down, nor did Jon have any special revelations. He froze for the count of two, then turned and ran. He hadn’t run much since playing college baseball. Even then, as a pitcher, he didn’t run much. Now he ran like a fifteen-year-old being chased by an angry father who’d caught him diddling his daughter. He could see the headlights of a vehicle about where the minivan should be. He redoubled his efforts when he heard Gwenn scream his name. He heard the truck driver scream a curse and no longer saw the flashlight beam.