The Gorging (24 page)

“I’m a writer for a television station in Cheyenne, Wyoming. I just flew into Nashville to head to the area where you guys just came from. I was supposed to be doing a story on the mass dying of herds of cattle with my partner, but, unfortunately, he died in the plane crash.”

“You flew all the way from Wyoming to do a story?” asked Sampson. “This is bigger than we thought it was.” He turned to Carl and shook his head. “I wish we could have been able to finish the testing at the Miller farm.”

“We were at the farm last night,” said Carl. “The same one you wanted to do a story on. No point in going up there now. There’s no one or anything left to do a story on. I don’t think many people are going to hear your story either given that nearly everyone seems to be dead or gone crazy.”

“Your plane crashed? How many survived?” Jeffrey asked.

“No one except for me and the writer here,” said Troy as he pointed to Bobby. “We picked her up in downtown.” He pointed to Betty, who seemed to be staring off into some distant space, perhaps looking for Frank.

“Well,” said Carl. “We shouldn’t just stand out here in the open for our meet and greet session. Our command unit broke down and I see you’ve got a bus. Let’s load our stuff in it and we can find a diner or restaurant close by to continue our conversation.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” said Betty. “I’m hungry anyways.”

Bobby looked at Troy for his approval. Troy shrugged his shoulders and titled his head, letting Bobby know he had no clue as to whether it would be a good idea or not. Bobby thought for a moment that the extra additions to the group would only be three more. It would give them a better fighting chance if they came across any more hostiles on the way. Besides, the new members from Kentucky have weapons. The only weapon Bobby’s group has is a school bus to mow down the crazies. He turned to Carl and said, “Well, I think that’s a good idea, too. We have no reason to head north and you guys have no reason to head south now, but I plan on working my way home to my wife and son as soon as possible.”

“Let’s talk about this behind doors where it’s safe,” said Jeffrey as he looked around nervously. “I don’t feel comfortable out here in the open.”

They all looked at Jeffrey and everyone seemed to have the same thought,
this kid has a gun on his hip and he’s scared?

They all piled into the school bus after loading all the police equipment, guns, and ammunition into the rear of the bus through the emergency exit. Bobby drove while Sampson and Carl rode in the front seats. Troy and Jeffrey chatted and Betty looked aimlessly out of the side window. Her mind was somewhere else, likely up in St. Louis, thinking about Frank and the good times they had spent there together. It would be all she would have left of him. There would be no body to lay to rest in the ground for her to visit when she would feel lonely. The memories would have to do.

Bobby kept driving the bus and followed Route 31 north ten miles to a family diner that Sampson said he had seen on their way down from Kentucky. He said the parking lot was fairly empty so they probably wouldn’t have a big problem with the hostiles roaming around, and if there were any, there were enough guns to take them out without a hitch.

“I don’t think we’ll have any problems out of the hostiles for very long,” said Bobby as he steered the bus around a long curve.

“Why do you say that?” asked Carl. He watched Bobby’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

Bobby looked up into the mirror and back at Carl. “They seem to be herding together and I have this weird feeling that when they run out of fresh meat, they’ll eventually turn on each other.” He said this with great pain, but felt it was probably more true than not. He was afraid that Nikki and Eddie may have turned hostile, but he thought that Eddie would be more likely than Nikki because of the recent hospital visit for food poisoning, if that is what is causing this apocalypse. “I know it sounds crazy, but everything about this day has been crazy.”

“You can say that again,” said Sampson. He looked ahead and saw the big metal sign that he had seen earlier in the day. It read MAMA’S DINER AND MOTEL. “That’s the place there. Just pull in slowly and we’ll check out the area before we all step down.”

Bobby steered the bus off the highway and into the parking lot of Mama’s Diner and parked in front. The diner lot is nearly empty. There were two cars parked on the side of the diner and only one parked in front of a motel room. The economy has taken its toll on small town America. Nothing much is left of Mama’s Diner, but the good thing about the small places are the home cooking on the menu and the excellent hospitality, though there would be no customer service today and whatever they would cook, they would have to make it themselves.

They all piled off the bus and stood in front of the diner. Carl held his pistol in his hand and Sampson carried an automatic rifle in his hands and was ready to shoot anything that looked like it was out of the ordinary. The entire group stood looking around, nervous and not knowing what to expect. Too much television and overrated horror movies put the thought in each of their minds that a crazy, bloodsucking person would jump out of nowhere and take a chunk out of someone’s neck, leaving everyone else to stand around and scream as the hostile mutilated his victim. Betty was the only one who felt differently about standing out in the open. Frank had been taken by a group of hostiles, including a small boy. She expected that if they were going to be attacked it would be done by several crazies, not just one.

“I don’t feel comfortable standing out here,” said Betty. She grabbed the top of her blouse and twisted it with her hands. Her face cringed and her body trembled slightly. “I want to go inside where it’s safe. I need to sit down for a minute.”

“We don’t know what is safe yet,” Troy said as he came from behind the bus carrying an assault rifle in one hand and a riot shield in the other. “I’m not taking any chances of being bit by one of those things. They could have some kind of disease or something.” Carl looked at Troy and held back from saying anything about Troy carrying his police equipment, but given the circumstances, he thought it would actually be a good idea that everyone carries a weapon.

“He’s right.” Jeffrey pulled his pistol from the holster on his hip. He held it out in front of himself with both hands. “I don’t want to catch whatever they have.”

Sampson shook his head and turned toward the group that stood behind him and said, “We don’t know if they have any disease. The only way to find out is if one of them bite us, but from what we have all seen, they don’t just bite you, they kill you dead as a doornail. None of us want to get bit here, but let’s try to keep our heads together on this. So no Rambo type shit. Okay?” Everyone seemed to agree with Sampson’s conclusion about the disease, but Troy and Jeffrey still had their doubts.

Bobby nodded and walked to the back of the bus and grabbed a rifle for himself and a pistol. He walked up to Betty and held out the pistol for her to take. She looked at him and shook her head.

“No way,” she said. ‘I’ve never shot a gun before.”

“It’s quite easy,” said Carl. “Bobby has the right idea. Every one of us should be carrying a weapon. We can protect each other if anything happens while we’re here and if we decide to travel together, where ever we decide to go.”

“Take the gun Betty,” Bobby said as he nudged it closer to her. She shook her head again. “Take it for Frank.” He knew she would after suggesting to take it and get revenge for Frank instead of mourning over his death, but he wished she would hurry up and grab it from his hand because the fucker’s getting heavy. She reached, hesitated, and then grabbed it. She turned it over in her hands and looked at it. She stared at the shiny barrel and the wooden grips. It didn’t look like an ordinary police issue handgun. She turned it over again and noticed the engraving on the left side of the grips that read STATE POLICE SHOOTING CHAMPION – CARL ANDERSON. She turned quickly and looked at Carl.

“I shot a ninety-nine out of one hundred with that pistol,” Carl said as he smiled at Betty. “You use it for your husband if you have to. It shoots straight. You know that.”

“What happened to your hundredth shot?” asked Betty.

“I say it went through one of the same shot holes. The shooting judge didn’t buy that story.”

Betty smiled back at Carl and held the gun close to her chest. Carl’s smile faded a little as he looked into Betty’s eyes. The sadness had disappeared from the blue of her eyes, and was replaced with a sternness that meant blood for blood. He believed at that moment that she did intend to use the handgun and she probably wouldn’t think twice about pulling the trigger. He would feel more comfortable walking behind her rather than taking the chance of catching a bullet from behind.

“Thank you Carl.” Betty’s smile grew bigger. Her eyes gleamed. Bobby saw the fear that had overtaken Carl’s face and he looked at Betty. He could see what Carl saw and felt the same reaction. He knew that she could become a liability to the group if she goes nuts and starts shooting the place up like a bank robbery gone south.

“Well,” said Bobby. “Let’s do a quick sweep of the perimeter and then raid the diner.” He pulled back the charging handle and checked the chamber of the rifle. A shiny brass round was visible inside. Locked and loaded, he thought.

“Military?” asked Sampson.

“I was in the Marines.” Bobby said.

“Army myself,” said Sampson. “Looks like we got some good training between all of us.”


“I was in the Army, too,” said Troy. “We might just do alright.” Troy looked over to Sampson who nodded and smiled at Troy’s statement. Jeffrey walked up and stood next to Betty. For a moment, Jeffrey felt as if he were left out, but reminded himself that although police training is not as tough as Marine or Army training, he still has tactical training.

Jeffrey stayed with Betty at the entrance of the diner while Bobby, Sampson, and Troy checked their weapons and scoped out the sides and rear of the building. They stayed together just in case there were any hostiles roaming around. After they searched the two waist high dumpsters in the rear they worked their way back around to the front. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary so far.

“Everything clear back there Sarge?” asked Jeffrey. Betty looked at the men and was waiting for the response in anticipation. She certainly wanted to hear that everything is “all clear,” but something inside of her wanted there to be at least one hostile. She wants to be the one to kill the next one. I will have my revenge, she thought. I’ll kill you over and over again you dirty bastards.

“We found nothing,” said Carl. “Not one single crazy around here. Looks like they all left because there wasn’t enough meat or there were never any here to start with.”

Betty’s shoulders dropped. She was disappointed. Maybe next time, she thought. Maybe next time.

“We need to check those motel rooms before we head inside,” said Bobby as he pointed to the rooms. “There could a few hiding out in there.”

“Yeah,” said Troy. “Waiting for us to go inside and then attack us when we don’t see it coming. Maybe hiding behind a shower curtain. Then they jump out and get you while you’re on the shitter.”

Jeffrey jumped when Troy put his emphasis on the word shitter to scare him. “Yeah, we should check it out,” said Jeffrey.

“That’s a good idea,” said Sampson. They checked their weapons again. Not because they needed to, but because they were all just a little nervous and wanted to make damn sure they were locked and loaded and ready to neutralize any hostiles. It’s too risky to take a chance of being bitten or even worse, being killed.


They searched the entire area in front of and behind the motel rooms. They searched inside and found no one. They took extra care in searching the room with the car parked in front out of fear of someone being inside, but it was empty as well. After clearing the motel rooms, the group had gone in the diner and made themselves as comfortable as possible.

“So what do you think we should do?” asked Carl. He took a bite out of his egg sandwich that Betty put together in the kitchen. She made egg sandwiches for everyone, but made herself a salad. They were lucky enough to find a small generator in the storage closet to run the stove to cook the eggs. Betty wasn’t very hungry, but she forced herself to eat anyway. She still has Frank on her mind and food is of little concern to her right now.

Bobby pulled a chair away from the table and sat his rifle on it. “My plan is to return to Wyoming as soon as possible,” said Bobby. He took a drink of soda and swallowed. “I’m afraid for my wife and son. I want to make sure they are okay as soon as I can.”

“That sounds reasonable,” said Carl. “I don’t think we would have any use in traveling that way with you, but I’m quite certain we have no use in staying here.”

“You gentlemen are welcome to travel with me and break off anywhere or anytime you like,” said Bobby. “I’m sure Betty will break off when we pass St. Louis. That’s where she is from. Troy will be heading the entire trip with me.”

“I think this could be an opportunity to conduct some research,” said Sampson. “The way it seems so far is that if Nashville is in as bad of shape as you say it is, then it is likely the same for all major cities. The only places that could possibly survive something this horrific would be the small ones.”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” said Carl. “We could possibly gather stragglers along the way and—”

“Are you suggesting that we can’t return to our homes and try to move on from this?” asked Jeffrey. He seemed to be angry with his uncle suggesting they could no longer stay in Kentucky.