The Road to Macon: A Zombie Novel (12 page)

"Even if nothing goes wrong on the way there, we will only have about thirty minutes to an hour to clear the place and make sure it's safe," Kyle said, adding onto what James said. "I don't like being rushed into being safe."

"I agree, Professor," Yolanda said, getting off the ground where she was sitting next to James. "And you have motion detectors here, which will help spot anything at night. There are plenty of us to help keep watch, so we shouldn't have a problem. I say we stay." The others nodded their heads in agreement and the group began to fan out to their different callings.

Kyle, walking into the garage, took a look at his extra freezer and popped it open for a quick see. If the power went off it would all be wasted, except for what they carried away. Prime rib tonight? Why not. He wondered if the diseased could see the smoke, and then decided to grill inside the garage and just leave the garage door open. The meal was a hit, with everyone one edge, eating had been a lesser concern, leaving some grateful people mopping up the last of Kyle's expensive steak.

Lights were off and darkness descended. Abe and Kyle volunteered for the first watch while everyone else tried to calm their fears and get some sleep. The time wasn't late, but without power to entertain and the hectic day, people were soon asleep.

Kyle sat on the top of the roof facing the back while Abe sat facing the front yard. The night was quite. Eerily quiet. No horns, no music, it seemed that even the insects knew to keep it down tonight. Kyle and Abe were both quiet, processing what had happened that day. It was thirty minutes before Abe spoke.

"I dropped the gun," he hesitated in telling the story. "When I was first attacked, I shot the pistol and dropped it."

"The noise?" Kyle asked quietly, without looking at his brother.

"Yep, stinking loud."

"It is that, I think I have lost twenty percent of my hearing already," he laughed. Kyle turned to look at Abe. The moon was bright tonight and he could see his brother's face clearly. It was calm. "I wouldn't worry about dropping it. You weren't the first Smalls to do it."

"You did?" Abe coughed.

"I don't think we need to go into all that now." Kyle smiled. "Just know there's nothing new under the sun."

"Except zombies," Abe laughed.

"Yep, except zombies."

Abe woke slowly to the sound of moving and shuffling around the house. He lay disoriented for a minute trying to figure out what was going on. He tried to rise out of the bed and was quickly reminded that whatever happened, he had worked out some muscles yesterday because he was sore. He laid back down for a minute, yesterday's events washing over him.

"Hey lazy, we’ve got to go!" shouted Kyle from the door to the room. He was already dressed and ready. When did he become a morning person? "Suit up. Leaving in five minutes," then he was gone.

Abe groaned and got out of bed. He quickly dressed in the clothes he had ready and headed out of the room.

Abe watched as his brother directed everyone. Sometimes he gave helpful hints, sometimes suggestions, and sometimes he told them what to do, but always in a light fashion. Abe was amazed. He had never seen his brother like this. Commanding, but in a professional way. Was this what he got from the army? From all the movies Abe had watched, the low level officers were always terrible. Abe could see Kyle being a good leader, but always having his stuff neat and being on time? Well, he didn't think so. Abe's thoughts were interrupted as Kyle walked over to him.

"Do you mind driving the truck?" he asked. "And drive behind Patrick, with James and Yolanda behind you."

"Yeah, no problem," Abe answered. He turned to his truck and wondered if he was handled as easily as everyone else. No, he decided. His brother couldn't handle him. Then he jumped in the truck and waited for Patrick to pull out so he could follow.

"Dammit."

Kyle jumped in the truck and pulled out of the yard. He was alone today because Yolanda decided to ride with James again. He couldn't blame her. He wished for the same thing she had, but hadn't given it too much thought lately. The end of the world helped you forget the small things, at least for the moment. He checked his rearview mirror to make sure that everyone had pulled out. There were five trucks now, a little caravan riding down the road in their big trucks. He reached between the seat to grab the hand mic for the radio.

"Morning everyone, let's go over this again," Kyle said, as he was scanning the road and yards around them. The night had proved pretty uneventful for the neighborhood, or so it looked. With most of the neighborhood being young families he imagined they had gone to folks somewhere else. Worked out better for him he guessed. "Patrick is getting low on gas and the rest of us can go ahead and top it off. We're going to a little country store so it might not have much but if it's there, go ahead and grab it. Since it’s over the county line, I’m hoping they still have power for the gas pumps. Let's get a sound off."

"Truck 2 copies," Patrick said, a little too loudly over the radio.

"Truck 4 copies," Eric said. Kyle thought he sounded better than last night. Being with friends and not alone had helped he knew.

"What?" Abe asked over the radio. "What am I supposed to say?" Abe wasn't letting go of the call button which kept everyone hearing what he was saying and kept everyone else from speaking. Kyle could hear him talking about ridiculous military something or other. He finally let go of the button.

"Truck 5 copies," Yolanda laughed. Sugar you need to let go of the button when you are finished speaking. And say ‘copy’ or ‘over’ to let us know you’re finished speaking. Over," she said this last word a little loudly to make the point. Kyle was thankful the directions came from her. If he had said anything, Abe would have complained or probably laughed it off.

"I told you not to call me Sugar anymore, copy" Patrick responded. He sounded pleased with himself.

"You fool, you know I'm not talking to you!" Yolanda yelled.

"Okay," interjected Kyle. "It's only a five minute drive there, so be smart, be careful." Kyle's serious tone and remainder ended the playful banter on the radio.

Kyle saw the old country store and noticed right away that they wouldn't be the only customers there. Parked on the far side of the store were two large black trucks. Old black trucks with missing tailgates. “Must be easier for the dogs to get in and out,” thought Kyle, noticing the dogs’ boxes in the back of both trucks. Either way, neither of them were at the pump so he pulled his truck past the pump and parked not too far from the black trucks. Kyle saw Patrick, who was behind him, pull next to the pump and jump out. Eric pulled to the left of Patrick's truck, keeping Patrick's family between his truck and the store. Abe and James parked behind Patrick.

As Kyle was walking toward the pump, he saw Eric hurry over to meet him.

"Hey, Professor," he said seriously. "I know those trucks and the boys who drive them aren't good fellas.”

"What do you mean by that?" Kyle asked, not sure what he was talking about.

"I mean, they’re downright mean," he explained. "I've seen them bully people, start fights, and generally cause a lot of problems at some of the dog hunts around here. They even beat their dogs!" He said this last sentence with such an exclamation that Kyle thought it must be severe.

"Copy that, we'll go in together with James and Abe. I'll let you do the talking if there's any problem."

"Sounds like a plan."

Kyle called the others over, explained, and asked Yolanda to stay with Patrick and his family. She turned her head to give a disgusted look at Patrick who winked back at her. Kyle knew it was just a ruse between them. They seemed like brother and sister more than anything.

The front door the old store was closed, which Abe said hadn't been closed when he visited yesterday. Kyle nodded at the information and gave Eric a nod. Eric gave a small nod back, and walked up to the door and knocked slightly.

"Anyone in the house?" he shouted in a casual fashion, which was in opposition to his stance.

"Who's out there?" someone shouted from the inside. Whoever it was who answered was slurring, and had obviously had a few beers.

"It's Eric from down on Buck Swamp," he replied.

"Eric with those three ugly beagles that can't hunt for shit?" the voice said.

Eric tensed up and gave Kyle an angry look. Kyle just shrugged and hoped that he didn't do anything too stupid.

"Yep," Eric said casually, but he had his hand on his berretta. "Those dogs never did learn the right way.”

"Come on in here boy, we got plenty of beer."

"I got some of my friends with me, got enough for all of us?"

"Shit, I guess there is but we done drank a lot of it.”

Eric gave a look to Kyle who was behind him and slowly opened the door.

The first thing Abe noticed when he walked in was the smell of beer. It was overpowering. He felt like he was getting drunk just standing there. It permeated everything. He looked to Kyle and the others who had all walked in before him. They stood to the left of an open space that was before the cash register. The strangers seemed content to yell out greetings and threw some beers in their direction. Abe barely caught his as he wasn't expecting it. This gave one of the guys a good laugh at his expense. There were three of them. All big and completely drunk. They wore different variations of jeans, and each of them had on brown Carhartt coats. None of them had shaved or seemed to have showered lately. Abe didn't like the look of any of them. He had seen their kind before. Bullies. The beer only brought it out more. Redneck bullies. He and Kyle had to deal with them growing up, even their family had some of them. What Abe hadn't been expecting to see, was a skinny pale guy leaning back against a huge backpack. He had reddish-brown hair and was so white he looked like a ghost. He had a bloody nose and his left eye was almost swollen shut. He didn't move or respond in any way when they had walked in the room. Probably scared, someone had worked him over.

"Looks like you guys have had a party," Eric said. Abe wondered how the guy could be so casual. He looked over at Kyle and saw a look that didn't bode well. His jaw muscles were clenching and unclenching like they were on a battery. He eyes were locked onto the drunk who started talking. He was angry. Abe had been on the other end of that look a few times and it always scared him, though he was usually angry himself.

"You bet ya man...The world's done gone crazy and we were on our way to see our families when we stopped here last night," the drunk man finished and took a long swallow of beer. He finished it and then threw it at the kid on the ground. The kid gave an angry look back but didn't say anything.

"Where's Jeremiah at?" Abe asked, not quite keeping the hostility out of his voice. Eric shot him an annoyed look but he didn't care if he liked it or not, he wanted to know.

"What?" started one of the other drunk guys with even more of slur. "Who's this fella?"

"Ah, just one of my hunting buddies, don't worry about him. He's just sore he lost his dogs earlier," Eric said, trying to keep it tone light.

"Don't tell me the buck there is one of your huntin buddies?" asked the first, pointing his shotgun at James. He had found another beer and cracked it open. He looked at James with anger and a promise of violence. James, for his part, kept cool and just looked back.

"He helps clean up after the dogs," Eric said lightly, as if it were normal. "Works cheap. Got to watch him though, he's a lazy one. Eric turned to look at James and give him a wink when his head was turned. The three drunk men didn't see it. "What's the story with this little fella?" Eric asked, nodding his head over to the young man on the floor.

"You ought to hear this fella talk." He stopped to laugh and take a swallow of beer. "All fancy like. Gave us a little trouble when we came in. Tried to stop us from gettin something to drink."

"That's a bloody lie," said the young guy from the floor. "They were havin a go on the old man."

"Shut your face," the leader said, voice full of anger. He walked a step over and kicked the guy in the ribs. "Didn't I tell you he spoke all fancy? I don't know what's he saying half the time.

"Must be one of those queen's boys," Eric nodded. "I've heard them a time or two." The young man shot Eric a nasty look at the mention of the queen. "Well, we just came for a few things. Where's the fella we pay for our things?"

Kyle had listened long enough to know that they were in a bad situation. Of course, that didn't take a great tactician. He considered his options. They could just take their stuff and go, but that left the kid still trapped here. Or they could ask to take the kid with them, this would just anger the rednecks and possibly create a worse situation. He needed to take these guys out without drawing too much harm to his brother and friends. He had the advantage now, but shooting the guys seemed extreme. Kyle decided he needed to know what happened to the old guy who worked here. Then a decision.

Eric's tone was still light, but the drunk speaker gave him a cold, appraising look. He turned his body to face Eric, pulling his gun around as he did. He remained looking at Eric, while his friends looked at him for directions. He must have decided he wasn't being called out as he turned off the stare. "Don't worry about that. He tried to give us some trouble also but we took care of him. He's out back. Go ahead and grab what you need."

"Hey, Dukes of Hazzard?" Abe said, voice full of derision. "Where's Jeremiah?"

That's did it, Kyle thought. Couldn't let us do this the smart way. He watched as the inebriated rednecks finally caught the insult given by Abe. The one closest to him raised his shotgun up and pointed it at Abe, who to his credit, didn't flinch.

"Why don't I just let you meet him," the drunk sneered at Abe, then laughed. Kyle watched the guy with the gun. He had a beer in his left hand and was also trying to hold on to the unstable barrel of the gun, though at the range he was at, if the gun went off, it would surely kill Abe. The drunk moved his finger from the trigger guard to inside it and on the trigger. Kyle tensed when he saw this.