Influenza: Viral Virulence (13 page)

“Someone could have been shot but still been able to fight back, then bled out.”

“Okay, we’ll look a little longer. Okay with you, Michael?”

“Sure, knock yourselves out.” He took a disgusted look at the bodies on the escalator steps. “Besides, there’s something I want to check out before we go. I think I missed something.”

“Meet us back here in a few,” Scott said, already searching the bodies near the top of the escalator with his flashlight.

Michael went back once again to the body of the shooter, where he had found the shotguns and ammo stashed. He knelt beside the body and looked at the shelves where the twelve-gauge shells had been. Puzzled, he let his gaze wander to the .308 shells next to them.
Why are the .308s here?
he asked himself.

Marveling at his own stupidity, Michael answered his own question. Somewhere, there must be a .308 rifle. But where? He looked up and down the shelves with the flashlight. Nothing. He walked around the body and looked on the floor. Still nothing.

Realization dawned on him then. Getting down on his hands and knees beside the body of the man, he grabbed the dead man’s jacket and, with some effort, rolled the body over. It made a sickening sucking sound as the clothes peeled away from the sticky, dried blood on the floor. And there, hidden beneath the body, was a very nice .308 rifle complete with scope.

Michael joined his friends a little later with his pack weighing a bit more. He grinned and showed them his prize. They grinned back with equal triumph as Brian showed Michael the 9mm semiautomatic pistol he had discovered.

“Our luck can only last so long,” Scott said, looking at his watch. “Let’s get out of here before it changes and more looters decide to join the party.”

“What about the kids? They’re defenseless without a weapon,” Brian said.

“I don’t really feel comfortable about arming a sixteen-year old,” Michael said. “What if they shoot some other innocent person for food, like Ted did? Then that blood is on our hands. Or what if there’s some accident, and someone ends up dead? Then, we’re the ones who are responsible for it.”

“I agree with Michael,” Scott added. “Besides, they’re not totally defenseless. You saw them grab some of those long, deadly-looking serrated hunting knives.”

Before Brian could protest, Michael looked down at his watch. At least that was still working. “Hey, guys, it’s getting late. That little confrontation with Ted set us back, and we’ve spent a lot more time in here than we planned. We need to get back while it’s still light and we can find our way.”

Grumbling to himself, Brian followed Scott and Michael down the stairs and to the front door where they paused, checked the outside parking lot for any activity, and then left.

By the time they had hiked all the way back to their apartment, night had fallen. It was a tiring journey as they all had their packs stuffed full. Only Brian wasn’t breathing heavily by the time they climbed the steps up to the porch.

Lorie opened the door as soon as they gave the correct knock, and then she proceeded to scold them for the next fifteen minutes for being so late and scaring her half to death. Sandy tried to act mad that Michael had left her again, but she couldn’t help but wag her tail. He could tell that Lorie had been more worried about them than anything else and was using anger to cover it up. Besides, she said sternly, how would she be able get a ride home if Michael never came back?

Michael glanced at both Brian and Scott. He didn’t say anything about their encounter with Crazy Ted. They had talked about it while walking home and decided it would be better if she didn’t know. There wasn’t any reason for her to know. Michael didn’t feel right keeping secrets from Lorie, but with the world spiraling out of control around them, like something being flushed down the toilet, he didn’t want to upset her any further.

After she had finished scolding them, she surprised them by having a home-cooked meal she had scrounged up from their dwindling supplies. Michael thought he had smelled some new aroma when he had walked into the apartment. For the first time in a long while, they all had a decent meal together. Michael enjoyed both the food and the camaraderie of his friends, because he didn’t know what tomorrow had in store for them, or if there would even be a tomorrow…

That night he slept on the couch once again as Lorie slept in his room. Sandy lay sleeping by the side of the couch, having her own doggie dreams. Michael’s sleep was restless.

He dreamed he was attending a funeral. They were lowering Richard’s body into a gaping hole in the ground. He could smell the freshly dug earth next to the open grave. Two people whom Michael somehow knew in his dream to be Richard’s parents were holding each other and weeping. The rest of the mourners gathered about the funeral service were the people from the department store who had been killed by the camouflage-dressed man. But they were no longer dead. They were alive and unharmed.

As the preacher finished speaking, he lifted his head and looked directly at Michael. It was Crazy Ted. He screamed, “I’m going to get you,
Weasel!
” and pulled a gun from underneath his black robes and started firing. In horror, Michael backed up, trying to get away, and fell…

…into a lake. His body was pulled under the surface. He was drowning in a large lake, yet he could still breathe. The surface of the water was just out of reach of his fingertips, but as much as he kicked with his feet and struggled with his arms, he could not break free from the current that threatened to draw him down to the bottomless depths. The less he struggled, the lower he sunk into the abyss.

The edge of the lake was a trench. Like a cliff, the sides went straight up and down. There was nothing to grab on to in order to pull himself upward. In the depths below him, the water was black and murky. He felt, rather than saw, something down there that was waiting hungrily for him to sink deeper. It was something monstrous that wanted to grab hold of him with wet, slimy tentacles and never, ever let him go. Screaming soundlessly in fear and desperation, he looked upward. The shore was just out of reach above him, and no one was there to help. He was running out of energy and would soon sink…

Michael woke up in a cold, icy sweat, and it took a long time for him to fall back asleep.

Chapter 15

The four musketeers
sat around the dining room table the next morning looking glumly at one another. Even Sandy could sense their mood and was lying somberly under the table. It was going to be their very last day together. They had known this day was approaching and that each had to go their separate way. Saying farewells was much tougher than they had thought it was going to be. Michael had given both Brian and Scott written directions to “Aunt Thelma’s” retreat on the Georgia/South Carolina border in case they ever changed their minds.

“Do you think it would safer to travel at night or during the day?” Scott asked.

“I really don’t know,” Michael replied honestly.

“If you travel during the day, other people can spot you easily,” Brian suggested. “But at night, your headlights would give you away too.”

“Unless you drove at night with your headlights off,” Scott suggested. “But then you couldn’t do that without getting into a wreck.”

“What if you just went with the running lights on?” Lorie asked.

“I don’t think those little yellow lights would show enough of the road to keep you from crashing,” Brian said. “What about speed? What do you think about driving slow or fast? If you go slowly, you might not make as much noise to alert others. But even so, the bad guys would still hear you coming and have time to prepare an attack.”

“Makes sense to go fast. At least as fast as the driving conditions will allow,” Scott said.

“What’s that?” Brian said suddenly. He shushed everyone and cocked his head as if he were listening to something.

Then, Michael heard it too. Someone was yelling, “Help me!” but it sounded muffled and distant. Pushing the kitchen chair away from the table, Michael jumped up and raced to the front window. Pulling aside the heavy curtain, he peered outside.

There, half-walking, half-stumbling down the middle of the street was a woman. She looked tired and haggard. Putting her arm up to her mouth, she coughed violently. She looked at the surrounding houses and yelled, “Please, someone help me!” Then, she coughed again.

Drawing closer to their apartment building, she crossed the sidewalk. Then, she put her hand on the railing and started to climb the steps. Michael could no longer see the woman from where he stood, but he could hear the creak of the steps as she climbed them one by one to the porch.

He backed away from the door as the knob jiggled back and forth. The woman banged on the door and cried out for help. Michael stood motionless, not knowing what to do.

After a few moments, he heard the woman shuffle away and start pounding on the second door that led to the apartment upstairs. His heart broke for this poor woman. She was out there all alone with no one to help her. Michael, without any thought to what he was doing, reached out for the doorknob. It was almost as if he were in a trance.

Suddenly, Lorie’s soft hand rested lightly on Michael’s outstretched arm. She whispered in his ear, “You know that if you open this door, you’ll be exposing all of us.” Then, letting her words sink into his brain, she gently took her hand away.

Standing there realizing he was about to do something really stupid, Michael let his arm drop to his side. Thank goodness Lorie was there to speak some rational words into his mind, or else he might have put them all in serious jeopardy.

He walked to the other side of the front window and pulled back the curtain slightly so he could see.

The unknown woman had given up on their apartment building and was continuing her path down the street. Her unkempt, long, brown hair was matted to one side of her head. There was the crack of a gun, and in the next moment, the back of her head exploded into a red chunk of ruined flesh.

Michael jumped back in shock and watched as the lifeless body of the woman fell to the pavement. He turned his head to look down the street and saw a group of five men, all dressed in camouflage hunting gear. Four of them were carrying shotguns and were laughing and congratulating the fifth man, who carried a rifle. The man with the rifle looked proud, as if he had just taken down a trophy animal.

Michael was disgusted. These “hunters” had just killed a poor, innocent woman. Yes, she was sick, but that didn’t mean she deserved to be tracked down and murdered in cold blood. He was suddenly afraid, very afraid, of what these times were turning people into. If those hunters had no compassion for the sick, Michael knew that basic human morality was out the window. If they knew Michael and his friends were hiding in the apartment, they wouldn’t think twice about breaking in, killing them, and taking all their provisions. He feared for Lorie’s safety even more.

“Looks like we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Brian said from behind Michael’s head, making him jump a second time. He hadn’t heard Brian come up behind him to watch the events on the street unfolding.

Brian had parked his car in the dirt alley behind their apartment building after he and Scott had come back from their gas-station run. All four of them exited the apartment by the back door after making sure the group of human hunters was nowhere to be seen. Sandy tried to protest again at being left behind, but they didn’t have much room in Brian’s car. Brian climbed into the driver’s seat, while Scott took the front passenger’s seat. Michael and Lorie piled into the back.

As he turned the key in the ignition, Brian’s car roared to life. He checked to make sure everyone was ready. Brian had the sawn-off shotgun in his lap, and Scott held his with the barrel pointed out the window. Michael had his trusty ol’ pump shotgun leaning against his leg, and Lorie held Ted’s revolver tentatively by her side. She didn’t know it was Ted’s gun, and she’d probably never find out. Ignorance is bliss.

Brian pulled out of the gravel alleyway and turned onto the paved street. Driving as fast as he dared and taking care not to squeal his tires around the corners, he drove the hour-long walk to Gary’s garage in just under ten minutes. During the trip, they saw no one. Only trash littered the streets, and loose papers blew in the slight wind. Except for a few cars along the side of the road, the once-bustling college town looked abandoned and uninhabited.

Pulling up right next to Gary’s locked garage doors, Brian shifted into park and let the car idle.

As Michael opened the door to get out, he pointed at the chains and said to Brian, “Just let me make sure I can get in. Then you and Scott go back to the apartment, pack up your things, and head to your parents. You’ve stayed here far too long. Your families need you.”

Brian waved at Michael as Lorie opened her door and got out of the car too. Carrying his shotgun in one hand and the heavy bolt cutters in the other, Michael walked over to the massive garage door. He looked over his shoulder to see if there was anyone else in sight. Fortunately, the garage was located in the industrial part of town. No one lived out here, and no one had any reason to be out here.

Standing beside him, Lorie took the gun from Michael and watched as he opened the bolt cutters as wide as they’d go. He pushed the teeth of the cutters between the chain links and then squeezed the arms back together with all his strength.

For a moment, Michael feared that it wasn’t going to work. But then he felt the bolt cutters slide into the metal, and with a loud snap, the chain broke. Taking no time to rejoice, Michael quickly pulled the heavy chain off the doors and opened them wide. There, sitting in front of him, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. (Okay, after glancing at Lorie, he changed it to the second most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.) Standing before him with the light from the newly opened door falling on the hood was his pickup truck. Taking a moment to walk around his prized vehicle, he saw that Gary had done a wonderful job on it. It looked great. The freshly washed and waxed, shiny, metallic green paint made the truck look brand-new. For a moment, he thought that a divine light would shine through the greasy side window, and the
Hallelujah Chorus
would start up.

Not wanting to spend any more time than necessary out in the open, he walked to the driver’s side and opened the door. Since he had given Gary the extra set of keys, which were locked in the office safe, Michael fished his own set of keys out of his jean pockets. He looked back at the entrance and noticed that Brian was still waiting in his running car just outside the door. Ignoring what Michael had said about leaving, stubborn Brian was still protecting and keeping watch. That was just like Brian, always there until the job was done.

Michael climbed into the driver’s seat as Lorie hoisted herself into the passenger’s. He put the key into the ignition, and his truck purred to life. Checking the gas gauge, he verified that the tank was full. Thank goodness he had just filled it up before dropping the truck off with Gary. During his normal trips from school to Cincinnati, he only needed three-quarters of a tank to make the journey. A full tank full should be enough. But they were living in different times now. He had to drop Lorie off at her parents, stop by his house, then continue on toward Aunt Thelma’s retreat. As he put the truck into gear, Lorie smiled and pumped her fist up and down. “Woo-hoo! We’re going home!”

Smiling at her enthusiasm, Michael drove the truck slowly out of its now unlocked prison into freedom.

Still waiting patiently, Brian pulled out in front of them, and they followed him back to the apartment.

Driving both vehicles into the alleyway, they turned them around so they were facing out toward the road. Once back inside the apartment, they began gathering their things and loading up the vehicles. Sandy followed Michael back and forth from the apartment to the truck, never letting him out of her sight. She wasn’t about to let him leave her again.

Michael’s truck had a lot of room to carry things. He had both the full truck bed and the entire back seat, minus room for Sandy. They divided up the food and bottled water evenly. Although Michael’s protested, Brian insisted that he take two of the four full gas cans they had retrieved from the station. Michael argued that Brian and Scott had a long distance to travel, but Brian wouldn’t hear any of it. They were almost done packing when…

“Hey, guys. You need to come here and check this out,” Scott called out urgently. By the tone in his voice, they could tell something was wrong. Scott had taken it upon himself to keep watch out the front window. He had been worried that the sounds of the automobile engines would attract unwanted attention. He was right.

As Michael peered over Scott’s head and looked out the front window between the glass and the heavy blanket hanging there, he couldn’t see anything…at first. Then, he saw it. About six houses down on the right-hand side, there was a reflective flash. Squinting and looking closer, he spotted a figure leaning up against a large tree along the side of the road. As he watched, another figure appeared beside the first, and they seemed to talk about something. Then, the second man pointed in their direction. Michael recognized them as two of the gunmen who had shot the woman without any kind of remorse.

“Okay, time to leave!” Brian announced. He had come up behind Michael and had also recognized the men.

With no disagreement, Michael hurried back and grabbed what little supplies they still had in the apartment. Running out the back door, he saw Lorie rearranging some of the suitcases in the backseat of the truck. Sandy was already perched in the backseat as Lorie tried to make more room for her.

“Lorie!” he called out frantically. “Get in the truck. Now!”

Hearing the tone of Michael’s voice, she slammed the back door and climbed into the front. As Michael tossed his handful of belongings into the truck bed, he saw Lorie look around fearfully. He sprinted back inside and grabbed Lorie’s last suitcase in the bedroom.

As he was hurrying out the back of the apartment, suitcase in hand, he heard Scott call from the front of the house that it looked like five or six guys with guns had gathered down the street. Michael flung the last suitcase into the back of the truck and closed the cap lid. One more trip inside, and he was done. All he had to do was collect his shotgun, and they’d be out on the road.

Running back into the apartment, he was almost bowled over by Brian. Brian’s big hands grabbed Michael by the shoulders, steadied him, spun him around, and pushed him back toward their cars. “No time! They’re heading this way!”

His shotgun was still inside! Without it, all he and Lorie had was Ted’s pistol and the rifle from the store. The pistol was in Lorie’s lap, and the rifle was somewhere in the back. Brian’s urgency sparked Michael into action. They both ran back to their respective vehicles and climbed in behind the wheel. As Michael fumbled for the keys, he heard a loud, splintering sound coming from the apartment as the front door was kicked in. Then he heard a shotgun blast as Scott fired at the intruders.

Putting the key in the ignition and starting the truck, Michael could see that Brian had already started his car and was waiting for Scott. Brian’s sawed-off shotgun was out and pointed at the open back door.

From the backseat, Sandy barked an alarm.