Family Reunion "J" (8 page)

“Good morning, or is it afternoon?” she said with her most winsome smile.

“Well, the day has turned out better for seein’ you, miss. Welcome to my store. As I said, cash or trade, no credit.”

“I don’t have much cash, but I have some ammunition I would trade for something to eat and a few gallons of gas.”

He rose from the seat and approached the counter. He looked her up and down. “I am goin’ to ask you to unload your weapons while you shop. What kind of ammo do you have?”

Jay decided that it was a risk worth taking. The old man was bent over and so frail looking that she didn’t think he was much of a threat to come jumping over the counter. She slowly undid the catch on the drop-down holster. He raised the shotgun slightly so that it pointed at her midsection.

“I have to take it out to unload it… Mister…?”

“Ted, my name is Ted, an’ you just be aware, I don’t care to shoot you. Be a right shame, as purdy as you are. Got me a pile for unruly customers out back.”

She took his warning seriously. “Okay, I got it.” Removing the 9mm from its holster, she dropped the magazine out, put it in her pocket, then held the Glock sideways. Making sure not to point it in his direction, she racked the slide and ejected the round onto the floor.

“That is one nine millimeter hollow point. How much will that get me?”

“Maybe a bag of chips. You’re gonna havta do better’n that for real food an’ gas.”

“How about ten rounds?” she asked, pointing at the AR strapped to her back.

“I tell you what… just leave that long gun where it is… twenty rounds.”

“Fifteen.”

“That’ll getcha a bag of pepperoni rolls, chips, your choice of a drink, an’, er… ahh… four gallons of gas.”

She approached him. “Throw in a one-gallon gas can and you have a deal.”

He seemed to ponder it for a minute. “Well, you kinda remind me of my young ’un, so I reckon that will be okay.” He put down the shotgun, shuffled around the counter, and went to a door behind the counter. He stopped and turned. “Well, come on, I ain’t gonna tote it fer ya.”

Jay laughed and followed him into the other room where he had a nice collection of things. He tottered over to a shelf and pulled down a small plastic gas can. “Now, the pepperoni rolls are out in front with the other stuff. Go get ’em an’ we’ll settle.”

She took the gas can and went back out front. She stopped dead in her tracks. A truck was pulling up and the occupants did not appear feeble or nice. She pulled the Glock, reinserted the magazine, racked the slide, and called out to Ted. “Stay back there. We have some company, and they don’t look like the friendly type.” He didn’t reply.

The truck pulled to a stop and two rough-looking guys got out. One had a pistol in his hand and the other had a hunting rifle. They looked to be in their early twenties. The driver eyed up her bike, the other pointed to the store and said something to the first. Jay got behind the counter and crouched down. The door buzzer sounded as they entered.

“Hey Ted, you old bastard, I see your shotgun sittin’ on the counter. Bad mistake, leavin’ it lay like that. Almost as bad a mistake as killin’ our daddy, you fuckin’ prick. Where are you? Don’t make me come lookin’ for you.”

Jay didn’t overthink the situation. She rose, extended the Glock, focused the front sight on the first one’s chest, and shot him three times. She shifted her aim to the second in time to see his head explode. Well, not really explode—it was strange, but it seemed to cave in on itself. His face disappeared into a red mess as he fell over backward.

The sound of the shotgun blast had barely subsided when she heard Ted behind her. He was standing in the doorway into the backroom. “Got a couple of these, Orin, you shoulda known that.” He broke the shotgun down and ejected the shell from the single-barreled scattergun while loading another.

He walked over to the kid Jay had shot and nudged him with his boot. “Nice group there, young lady. I just started a three-bullet sale.”

Jay, still in shock from having shot the boy, looked confused. “Anything you want in the store for them three bullets,” he said, pointing to the dying kid on the floor. Then he bent down and looked the boy in the eyes. “Your old man was a piece of shit, Orin, an’ it looks like you didn’t fall far from the tree. You should be ashamed of yourself, causin’ this purdy girl to live with your ugly face in her nightmares.”

Orin tried to say something but it just came out as a gurgle of blood and saliva. He huffed and reached for the old man, but his gun only made it an inch off the floor. Ted shot him point-blank in the chest. The body bounced on the floor one time and then was still.

Jay stood there, taking quick, short breaths. Her vision started to blur around the edges. “Slow down your breathin’, girl, or you’ll pass out on me,” she heard Ted say. The sharp reprimand brought her back, and she concentrated on taking slower breaths. Her vision cleared.

“First time you ever shot somebody, huh?”

“Yes,” was all she could manage.

Ted made his way over to her behind the counter. “Sit down here, I’ll get you somethin’.” He disappeared into the back room again.

He came out holding a bottle of Wild Turkey and carrying a couple of glasses between his gnarled fingers. He set the glasses on the counter, poured a couple of fingers of the brown liquid into each, and handed her one. “They didn’t give you no choice…” He paused. “You didn’t ever tell me your name.”

“Jay, like the letter,” she said, sipping the whiskey and making a frowny face as it burned its way down her throat.

“First taste a’ whiskey too, huh?”

“That obvious?”

“Yeah, like I was sayin’ Jay, them boys didn’t give you no choice. They came in here with murder on their minds, an’ if they’d a’ found you, it wouldn’t just been me they’d a’ murdered.”

“Doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better about it.” She tilted the glass back and drank the rest in one shot, then she started coughing. She put her head between her legs and began to cry. Ted laid a hand on her back and gave her a couple pats.

“Go ahead, you’ll get through this, I promise.”

After an hour or so, Jay was feeling a little better. She had stopped shaking and even ate the sandwich Ted had offered her. The cold Diet Coke was the best thing she ever tasted. She guzzled it down and burped loudly. Embarrassed, she excused herself. Ted just laughed.

“Feelin’ any better?”

“Yes, thank you, and thanks for the food.”

“Yer welcome Jay. Now what are ya plannin’ on doin’ from here? If you don’t mind me askin’.”

“I’ve got to get home, and then I’m off to South Carolina to find my daughter.”

“Well, you’re welcome to that truck if ya wannit.”

“No, thanks, I think I’ll stick with the Harley.” She had bonded with the bike; it gave her a sense of control. No matter that it was all psychological, it worked for her.

“Well, help me load these two up in the truck, then we’ll leave it down the road a piece, sorta advertisin’ this ain’t no place to loot.”

He was stronger than he appeared. A lifetime of hard work had taken its toll. But together they lifted the lifeless bodies into the back of the truck. Jay’s lunch threatened to come up, but Ted scowled at her and warned her not to be “wastin’ good vittles.” She laughed at that, which stopped her from heaving it up.

Jay stayed another hour, helping Ted clean up his store. He was a proud man and it showed in his attitude about the store. The whole time they were mopping up the brother’s blood, Ted regaled Jay with the history of this store. Originally located a mile farther down the road, it had been a stagecoach stop in the late eighteen hundreds. His grandfather purchased it from the company when the trains replaced the stagecoaches in the area. The state used eminent domain to force Ted to sell it and rebuild here ten years ago when they put through a new toll road connecting West Virginia to southwestern Pennsylvania.

“My wife told me I ought to close up shop an’ retire, but I figgered I still had a few good years in me. Was goin’ to leave it to my son.” He stopped working for a minute, stood erect, and produced a hanky from his back pocket. He gave his nose a mighty blow, folded the handkerchief, and dabbed his eyes before putting it back.

“When did you lose him and your wife?” Jay asked quietly.

“Lost ’em both to this damn flu” was all he said. He then busied himself with empting the mop bucket before she could even get out a word.

Ted packed her saddlebags full to overflowing with more water and snacks. “Now you be careful, young lady. I want you to stop back by here when all this passes, an’ trust me, it will pass.” He winked and smiled at her.

“Despite the circumstances, it was a pleasure meeting you, Ted. You take care.” And with that she started the Harley, put it in gear, and pulled away slowly, hoping beyond hope he was right.

Julian staggered under the weight of his son. He’d been carrying the boy piggyback since daybreak. The car had died before sunrise. They’d been on foot since then. He missed a step and his toe caught the edge of the pavement. He tumbled forward, falling into the abyss of unconsciousness.

His face was on fire. Someone was shaking him. It was his wife. No, she was dead. “Daddy, wake up, daddy!” His eyes focused on Simon, his son. “Daddy, wake up, someone is coming, wake up!” The darkness returned.

He woke; the cold of hard-packed earth on his face was the opposite of his last memory. He rolled his head. Simon was asleep next to him. He had the strength to gather his son into his arms. Then he disappeared again.

He felt something kick the sole of his shoe. Clambering out of his foggy dreamworld, he roused.

“Hey, you going to live?”

He rolled over and blinked, trying to bring the figure above him into focus.

He brought his head up off the dirt floor. “Where am I?”

The man laughed. “You’re in my root cellar. I stuck you two down here when I found you on Route 19, baking in the sun. I figured your boy wasn’t much of a threat, but I didn’t want you bushwhacking me, so… here we are.”

Julian finally zeroed in on him. He was short, bowlegged, with close-cropped grayish-brown hair and an eighties-style mustache that was obviously died dark brown. He wore thick glasses that distorted his eyes a little.

“Where is my son?”

“He’s fine, upstairs; you want me to get him?”

“I want to go to him.”

The man peered at him through his glasses. “Not until we talk a bit more. Who are you and where were you headed when I found you?”

Julian thought about telling him the truth. That he was responsible for the people who had turned into deranged killers and he was headed for the CDC in Atlanta to try and fix things. But that didn’t seem like a good idea.

“My name is Julian. We are headed to Atlanta, Georgia. I have… friends there. Our car broke down, and we were trying to find another one to replace it. I had been without sleep for several days. I imagine that I must have passed out.”

“Well, you’re fortunate that I was the one who found you. Not many folks out and about these days, not any you’d wish to run across anyhow. Atlanta is quite some distance. You might want to think about finding some place to weather this, this… whatever this is, out.”

“I appreciate your concern, sir, but it is essential that I make it to Atlanta as soon as possible.”

“Don’t call me sir; my name is Shaun, Shaun Pierce. Moreover, if you have your mind set on trying to get to Atlanta, that would be your business. I don’t give you great odds on getting there though. Have you run into any of the shriekers?”

“Yes, we have. That is why our car died—we ran into a large group of them in Clarksburg. I mean that we literally
ran into
them. Doing so smashed the front end of the car and ruined the radiator.”

“Well, there are plenty of cars around to choose from. Both my neighbors died from the flu. You’re welcome to take one of their cars. I don’t suppose their family will be coming anytime soon to get them. Most likely they’re dead too.” Shaun stood. “Come on, let’s go upstairs. I got some chili heated up.”