The Gorging (13 page)

As Bobby sat, staring at the flames and smoke that rose from what was left of the plane, he felt tears running down his cheeks. Pete had died in the fire and Bobby had, by pure luck, made it out alive. His best friend of many years is now gone. He thought about Pete’s wife Darlene and he could not help but think the bitch will likely be happy. She will be able to collect Pete’s life insurance and move on to someone else now. She would be able to torture someone else with her narcissistic ways and take advantage of the person every waking moment of every day. Bobby hated himself for thinking that, but it was just an unpleasant fact. Poor Pete, he thought. The tears soaked into the ash and dirt that covered his face. He shook his head and looked at his hands, wondering if he was indeed still alive.

A cold chill ran up Bobby’s spine and he jerked his head around as a felt a hand grasp his shoulder. He looked up and saw Troy. He was still wearing his trucker hat. Bobby was surprised he had not lost it. The man was saying something, but Bobby could not hear him. It must be from the blast, he thought. What was the man’s name again? I know I heard him say it, thought Bobby. Troy. That’s it.

“Are you okay?” shouted Troy. Bobby’s hearing started to come back. “Are you okay?”

Bobby nodded. Troy helped him to his feet. “My friend Pete,” said Bobby. “He was still in the plane...He’s dead for sure.” The tears came back, filled Bobby’s eyes, and dripped down his cheeks, soaking once more into the dirt on his face.

“I’m sorry man,” said Troy as he pulled Bobby further away from the wreckage. “Everybody on that plane is surely dead, except for us. We got to back up more in case it blows again. It may have extra fuel that didn’t go off right away. And those cars. Those cars could go off, too.”

They ran toward the tree line, steering clear of the trees that were burning. They crouched down, anticipating the pile of steel and crisped body parts to explode again, but it did not. They waited and waited. The flames died down and turned to just a smoking pile of scrap metal. They decided it was safe to run over and check for survivors in the cars the plane hit when it touched down on the interstate. Bobby stood up and started to walk over to the wreckage.

“Wait a minute,” said Troy, reaching up to grab Bobby’s arm. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Bobby looked down at Troy, still bent at his knees. “You hear sirens?”
Bobby looked around and focused his mind on listening. He heard the sound of the popping metal and crackling from the small fires that burned all around the wreckage. There were no other sounds. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Me either. Don’t you think that’s fucking weird? Shouldn’t there be fire trucks and cops on the way?” Troy stood up and looked both ways down the interstate. A strange feeling came over both of them as they took mental notes that none of the cars were moving, and it was not because the plane had crashed into several of them. The cars had been abandoned, left sitting on the interstate. They looked at each other without saying anything. Being stunned with the plane crash and now the weird, indescribable thoughts that raced through both of their minds caused them to keep silent. Troy and Bobby walked next to each other, looking around and confused, as they walked closer to the interstate.

“What’s your name, man?” asked Troy.

“Bobby Evans,” said Bobby, as he looked at the mangled mess of what used to be their plane.

“Bobby?”


“Yeah?”


“What the
fuck
is going on here?” Troy straightened his hat and centered it on his head, then stared at Bobby.

Bobby looked at him and shook his head. “I have no fucking idea.”

Interstate 24 stood at a standstill with cars and trucks abandoned in both directions. No cars were coming east or west. The two men looked over to the tall buildings of downtown Nashville and saw dark black smoke coming from several places, but they were unable to tell exactly where with the trees blocking most of the view on the opposite side of the interstate.

Bobby thought about Nikki and Eddie. He wondered if they might see the crash on the news. He remembered his cell phone had been in his carry-on bag that he stowed away in the overhead compartment. He shook his head and clinched his fist. “I need to call my wife. She’s probably seeing this on the news and is worried. I have to call her.”

“It just happened. I don’t think it would be on the news just yet. Besides, I don’t have a phone. Do you have a phone?” asked Troy.

“It was on the plane...This is confusing. Where is everyone?”

“I’m wondering if they saw the plane coming and jumped out of their cars and took off running.” Troy picked up a wallet he noticed on the ground at his feet. He opened it and looked at the driver’s license. It is a Wyoming license. Must be someone who was one the plane, he thought.

“If people got out and ran, they surely would have come back by now.” Bobby looked at Troy. Troy looked at him and shrugged. “Something is happening here. Why is there smoke coming from downtown?” asked Bobby.

Suddenly, a loud, massive explosion came from the downtown area. Bobby and Troy dropped to their knees and covered their ears. They both shrieked at the ear popping sound as the blast waved by them. They looked up just in time to see the building, commonly known as the “Batman” building, crumple and fall into a growing cloud of dark gray dust. It fell in a matter of seconds. Troy jumped up and screamed. “We’re at war, man!”

Bobby said nothing. He looked at Troy, who had started crying. Maybe they are at war. That would explain the building coming down and the abandoned cars, but why Nashville? What terrorist or foe would want to destroy Music City? What about the people who went nuts gnawing on other people’s faces? The co-pilot had still been snacking away when he and Troy burst through the cockpit door. That is not terrorism. What is it?

“If this is war I’ve never seen anything like this before,” said Bobby.

“Can’t you see? Look at the cars, the plane, the
building
for goodness sakes.” Troy turned toward the direction where the building had just collapsed. It was now a blank spot with pure sky visible between the buildings to the right and left. A faint sound of sirens caught their attention. “You hear that?”

“I do,” said Bobby as he stood up. “Where are they coming from?”

“I don’t—” Several painful screams followed the sounds of the sirens, then gunshots. More screams, then more gunshots. The screaming stopped. Bobby and Troy looked at each other as if in agreement about their current situation. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” yelled Troy.

They ran east through the tree line, scurrying away from the trees that were now fully engulfed. They stopped as they nearly ran head first into a chain-link fence.

“Let’s jump it,” said Bobby. He jumped up and leaped over the fence. Troy followed. On the other side was a dirt lot with abandoned semi-truck trailers. It was a storage yard next to the river. Bobby quickly looked around and noticed a trailer with the back door open. “Let’s hide in that one.” They ran to it and got in, closing the door behind them. The plastic roof let the sun light gleam through, giving them the feeling of being like hamsters in a cage. They were both breathing heavily as they fell back against the trailer wall, sliding down to the floor. Bobby starred at the floor, confused and wondering what to make of the morning’s events. It can’t be real. There is no way any of this can be real.

“This is unreal you know,” said Troy as he pulled his hat off and sat it in his lap. “I came here to catch the Opry show this weekend. I haven’t seen it in almost fifteen years. If Ida known this was going to happen, I would’ve stayed home.” He chuckled.

Bobby thought about words to keep the conversation going with Troy, but nothing came to his mind except for Eddie and Nikki. He pictured them sitting in front of the television, watching the Cheyenne Channel 4 News, wondering if there are any survivors from the plane crash. The thought quickly erased from his mind. He began to wonder if anyone knew about the plane crash. Something is going on out there and no one has responded to the scene. He looked at Troy. “Whatever is going on out there must have happened sometime after we took off from Cheyenne. I don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t look like war.”

“Zombie apocalypse?” asked Troy. They both stared at each other a moment and then let out a painful laugh.

“Wouldn’t that be something?” They laughed again. “I don’t think this is like the movies though,” said Bobby.

“That’s for sure,” said Troy. He slipped his hat back on to his head and looked around the trailer. It was empty except for the light that shined through the roof on top of a few broken down boxes near the front. “We need to get to a phone. We can’t stay here. There ain’t shit here.”

Bobby looked around the trailer himself and noticed they had a lot of nothing to help them. “I wonder how far the closest phone is. I saw a small office looking building when we ran into this trailer. There might be a phone in there.” He stood up and walked to the door of the trailer, opened it slowly and peeked out. “I don’t see anything out there.”

“Yeah, but do you hear anything?” Troy stood up, walked over next to Bobby, and looked out the door with him. “What about the screams? They sounded close.”

“I don’t know. I don’t hear anything now...Do you?” Bobby opened the door a couple more inches, slowly, thinking someone may hear the creaking noise as it opened further. There was nothing in sight except for other abandon trailers and the vine covered fence they had jumped over.

“I can’t hear shit.” Troy stepped closer to the door. His foot slipped at the smooth edge of the opening on the floor of the trailer. The door flung open as he fell out of the back and onto his face. A loud thud came from his body as he landed flat on the dirt three feet below the trailer floor.

“Oh man,” said Bobby as he jumped down next to Troy. “Are you all right?”

Troy rolled over and sat up. He dusted the dirt from the front of his coveralls, which blended in with the camouflage and the dirty ash from the explosion. “Damn that hurt. I guess I’ll live though. I must be on lucky guy.” Troy laughed as he dusted the dirt from his arms and chest.

Bobby knelt down low next to Troy when the realization they were out of the trailer and exposed to whatever (or whoever) they were hiding from. “We can’t stay here. We have to find help. Besides, I want to know what the hell is going on here.” Bobby helped Troy to his feet. “This is way beyond fucking abnormal.”

“We should go downtown and find out what happened with that building going down,” said Troy. “Looked like a lot of smoke over that way, too. Maybe that’s where all the people went. Maybe they went to help with whatever is going on over there. We should go there and see if they need our help.”

“I don’t know,” said Bobby. “That doesn’t seem logical. Nobody leaves their car sitting in the middle of the interstate to go help people these days. Plus, those buildings have to be at least a mile from where we are. Who in their right mind runs a mile to go help someone?”

Troy looked at Bobby and they both seemed to have the same thought or were thinking of something along the same lines. Troy spoke what they were both thinking. “Maybe they’re running from something.” A long silence came between them, but broke as the faint sound of gunshots echoed past them along with more screaming. It was not close, but it was not far away either. The smell of burnt metal and flesh lingered in the air much like the smell of cooking lingers in a small kitchen. The smell became so strong they could almost taste it. It brought with it a sick feeling in their stomachs. They both knew they could not stay where they are, sitting behind an abandoned trailer next to the river. Something is happening in the city and they both felt like they needed to help or at the very least find out what is going on.

“All right,” said Bobby. “So let’s make sure we’re on the same page here. We need to formulate some kind of plan before we head into the city. Something bad is happening and there doesn’t seem to be anyone around to ask what is going on, but we have to find out. Agree?”

Troy nodded. “Agree.”

“Okay. We’ll walk along the interstate and then cut over toward the buildings when we get closer. It doesn’t look like more than a mile. You’re from here right?”

“No,” said Troy shaking his head. “This is only my second time here. I was just coming down to see the Opry. Are you from here?”

“No I’m not. I’m from Cheyenne. The only place I’ve been east of the Mississippi is North Carolina and I flew there.”

“Well you sure dress like you’re from these parts,” said Troy as he pointed to Bobby’s dirt covered red and black-checkered flannel shirt.

Bobby looked down at this shirt and thought about how he and Pete had joked about the clothes that they wore, trying to blend in with the southern population. “You’re one to talk. You got camouflage overalls on.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right. Stereotypical right, but I work on a farm. What do you do?”

Bobby pondered for a moment, not sure if it was a good idea to tell Troy that he worked for a television station and wrote news stories. Occupational skills like that will not help in a situation like this unless they were going to write out their plans. “I’m a writer.” He told Troy anyway.

“Well,” laughed Troy. “That helps. Can you do anything else besides write that can help us out right now?”

“I spent four years in the Marines.”