Family Reunion "J" (21 page)

Jimmy was about the same age as her parents. He wore a beat-up black cowboy hat to cover his bald head, sported cheap sunglasses, and drove a cool-looking convertible. He had three dogs, Larry, Moe, and Curly, that he liked more than most of the people he knew. The first time they’d met he had told Auddy’s dad, “Dogs are the most loyal friend a man can have and love unconditionally. If you want proof of that, lock your dog in the trunk of your car with Mother Teresa, come back in an hour, and see which of the two is happy to see you.”

As she drove south again on Highway 31, the black pillar of smoke was visible in her rearview mirror. She tried not to look at it, but it kept drawing her eye. The horrible night would haunt her forever; she knew she would carry the loss close. She still remembered the night her dad comforted her over a breakup. “Honey, I know you are not me, but in this we are alike. We love hard, we hate hard, and we never forget.” It was true. While Auddy was very close with her mom, it was from her dad that she had inherited her personality type. Her mom was about as even keeled as a person could be. Steady, not usually very excitable, few ups, few downs. Her dad, Ryan Brant, was the exact opposite. He could be fantastically excited about something and pour himself into it. His highs were very high, but he could also sink to a low that bordered on depression. Knowing this didn’t mean she enjoyed it, but it was another reason she and her mom got along the way they did. Auddy loved her dad, but her mom was her best friend.

Highway 31 skirts inland of the coastal retreats. It bypasses the local traffic and the tourists, and because of that, it was the fastest way to get from North Myrtle Beach to Surfside Beach. It ran through the wetlands, which meant there were not many houses along its path. The plans for the road had been that it would eventually run down the South Carolina coast, connecting Myrtle Beach to Charleston, but the funding ran out and the highway stopped just west of Surfside on Route 544.

At one point, Highway 31 crosses over Route 501, the main east–west thoroughfare into Myrtle Beach. As Auddy passed over it, she saw the lines of cars blocking the westbound lanes. People desperate to leave town and return home from their interrupted vacations found the bleak end of that journey just outside of town. If she was going to leave for West Virginia, she was going to have to find a better route.

She saw the first signs of life, or the lack thereof, after exiting the highway onto Route 544. Here the houses were plentiful and the destruction of normal life was in far more evidence. Bodies were stacked in piles alongside the road. A garbage truck with several bodies hanging out the back sat abandoned next to one such pile. The stench was such that Auddy puked out the window of the truck, almost causing her to run off the road. She kept going, gagging and dry heaving as she drove. She tried breathing through her mouth but swore she could taste the vile smell.

Several times she had to drive off the road and over people’s yards to go around a wreck or abandoned cars. Once again, the road headed west was blocked, and many of the cars she passed in the eastbound lanes pointed west, which accounted for many of the crashes.

She knew better than to get her hopes up, but she daydreamed about pulling up to the condo in Surfside to see her dad’s truck parked out front. That would be so cool.

She drove up on a pack of dogs feeding on the dead at the intersection of the 17 bypass. She sped up and went around them, turning south again on 17. A couple of the dogs chased her but gave up when it became apparent that the fresh meal was out of reach.

Driving in the back way to the condo was less direct than continuing back onto the King’s Highway, but she figured her odds of getting stuck in traffic were much less.

As she passed the supersized hardware store, she saw a group of trucks crowded around its entrance. Several men were loading stuff into the trucks and three or four others stood guard with rifles. One of those guarding lifted his rifle and shot at her. She heard the whack of the bullet hitting her old pickup right before the crack of the rifle reached her. She bent forward and mashed the accelerator to the floor. The old truck’s engine screamed for a shift change, but she ignored it and looked to see several of the men pile into a truck and start out after her.

The back way into her mom and dad’s condo went through the surrounding neighborhoods. She flew over the speed bumps without registering the resulting jostling. The truck slew sideways as she passed the LOCAL TRAFFIC ONLY sign and she took out the mailbox that followed. Regaining control, she sped down the residential street searching for a way out. Her brain recalled that there was a white-brick ranch ahead that was for sale and she knew the people there came and went. It looked lived in, but the chances that someone was there were slim. She slowed as she approached it. There were no cars in the drive, but the big boat she remembered sat under the trees to one side. She pulled in carefully and squeezed through the space between the boat and the garage. She plowed through the landscaping to the left of the fence, drove about ten feet, and stopped. She shut off the truck and turned around in the seat to watch for her pursuers.

Her heart raced as she waited. She finally heard the whine of an engine over her labored breathing. She ducked down and peered at the sideview mirrors. The truck full of men ran by without slowing. Her first instinct was to start the truck and double back; instead, she started the truck and went forward. An abandoned thirty-six-hole golf course surrounded all the homes in the area. It had gone bankrupt several years earlier and the land remained untended.

Auddy prayed that she wouldn’t become stuck. The groundskeeper’s truck was not four-wheel drive. The truck’s back wheels spun a few times, but she made it to the cart path that still meandered around the old golf course. She and her mom walked the dilapidated asphalt path whenever her parents were in town, and she knew it fairly well.

She drove a bit farther and found a copse of trees suitable for hiding the truck from view. She could hear her dad’s voice in her head:
“Assess the situation if you have time, then make choices about what to do, then act. Don’t become overwhelmed. Keep your head in the game.”
All good advice he had given her as he looked over her shoulder while she played her brother in a first-person shooter video game.

Even though it was hot out, she put on the coat a worker had left in the cab of the truck. She needed the pockets to stash ammunition. She chose the shotgun she used to kill the thing that used to be Danny, and two pistols. Shoving the pistols in her waistband after checking to make sure both were loaded, she exited the truck and began making her way toward Platt Boulevard and Villas on the Green, her parent’s condo complex.

It took her another twenty minutes to make her way to the abandoned clubhouse. The succession of foreign companies that had acquired the golf course from various bankruptcies, defaults, and lawsuits had all made unsuccessful attempts to fortify the building against vandals. The smell of urine and other odors was hard to ignore, but she needed to get to the roof. Once there, she could see Villas on the Green and the surrounding area.

She ducked down behind the massive A/C unit when she saw the truck that had chased her drive back in the direction they had come.
See ya suckers
she thought with a satisfied grin. Her dad had voiced misgivings about her living in the condo alone. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, but it was not the best either. She knew that one of the neighbors was selling drugs, nothing serious, some pot, maybe some pills, but it wasn’t like the cartels controlled the complex. Well, she had come back armed with more than pepper spray this time, and if anyone came at her she would shoot first and ask questions later.
I got this dad
she thought as she looked over the top of the rusted air conditioning unit.

She made her way back to the ladder and peeked over the edge of the roof to make sure her path was clear. Seeing nothing, she mounted the ladder and returned to the ground. The clubhouse was a large building that covered almost a half acre of land. The bottom floor had exterior hallways that gave members access to the different areas without having to go through the building. As she walked down one of the hallways, she saw a piece of the plywood used to cover the windows torn away and the glass broken out behind it. She stopped and listened for any sign that someone might be in there. Hearing nothing, she moved closer. She stopped again when she thought she heard something.
I should turn around and go the other way around the building
she thought, but chided herself for being scared.
You have weapons, and you can protect yourself if you need to. Just check it out and move on.
She searched her pockets and found the flashlight, turned it on, then moved to the edge of the broken window.

Pushing herself to be brave and not let the circumstances immobilize her, she took a deep breath and pointed the light into the darkened room. Having convinced herself that she was just being paranoid and a wimp, she expected to see an empty room with nothing scarier than abandoned furniture. What she did see did immobilize her. Ten feet into what must have been a ballroom, the floor was covered with bodies. No, not bodies. The intertwined mass of graying flesh writhed, an arm here, a leg there, torsos visible in many positions. A scream burst from her throat as she stared at the orgy of human debris covering the entire space. As her scream echoed off the back wall, hundreds of sets of eyes reflected back at her and a terrifying shrieking welled up, almost knocking her backward with its force. She stumbled backward away from the opening, dropping the flashlight and grabbing for the shotgun she’d set down beside her. Her hand found it as she scrambled to her feet, pointing it at the entrance of what she was now sure was Hell. She racked the pump, ready at least to make a small effort at killing these demons before they overtook her. To her amazement, the horde didn’t come piling out of the hole. The shrieking continued, but none of the creatures spilled out.

She turned on her heels and ran, and kept running until she arrived at Jimmy’s front door. She banged on the door, hoping beyond hope to see a familiar face, a friendly face. When no answer came, she turned and went around to the back. Each building in the complex had six condos, three on the ground floor and three upstairs. Jimmy’s was on the ground level and one down from the Brant’s place. Along the rear of the building, most first-floor units had a screened porch. Auddy now looked in through the screen. Not seeing any sign of Jimmy, she went to her parent’s porch and sat down in the Adirondack…
Now what do I do?

Jay’s eyes felt like sandpaper weighted down with cement. Her body was revolting against any further travel. The drive from Mount Airy to Surfside Beach normally took about four hours. She had driven the back roads to avoid Winston-Salem and Charlotte the whole way and was on hour nine of the trip, with at least a couple of hours to go to reach her destination. It would be getting dark soon, and there was no way she would make it the rest of the way tonight. She had to find somewhere to hole up for the night.

She’d been seeing the billboards for Sparky’s Country Store for a few miles. It was a regular stop for anyone traveling from the north to anywhere in the Myrtle Beach area. It had everything from leather boots to their famous pecans. Signs proclaimed BBQ, SHARKS’ TEETH, SEA SHELLS, FIREWORKS; you name it, Sparky’s had it. Jay’s favorite was the candied pecans. She knew that there would be other things there; her supply of food was sparse, and if she could save her MREs as a reserve, it would be a good thing. The memories of the yearly trips to the beach distracted her and almost killed her. She shook her head and tried to clear the cobwebs by talking to herself. “You can’t fall asleep now, only a few miles to go!”

She only nodded off two more times before finally seeing the huge bright-yellow-and-red sign with the familiar dog Sparky coming up on the left. Across the highway was a small concrete block building. She pulled the SUV over and stopped. Sitting behind the wheel, she looked over at Sparky’s. The place was big. It had started as a small store that the owners kept adding to over the years. It was part of its charm. You could enter one end and spend an hour or more just working your way through the different sections.

There was no way she could check it out for any resources tonight. It was getting dark and she still had to get into a secure location. That’s where the little block building came into play, or so she hoped.