The Renegades (A Post Apocalyptic Zombie Novel) (9 page)

“Yeah, sure thing.”

That’s when Dax chimed in. “I think we’ve risked enough lives for one day.”

“But?” Specs began.

“No buts. Nighttime is too dangerous.”

“What and today wasn’t?” I said.

He glared at me. I was waiting for him to say something about me passing out but he didn’t. I guess he didn’t want to come across like a chump. But I knew he would just store away that little incident and use it at a time when he could bring it up and toss it in my face.

“You know what. If you guys want to go kill yourselves, be my guest. But I’m not going to go down with you.”

With that he got up and stormed out of the room. I was about to follow him out and have it out with him, when Jess grabbed my arm.

“Give him time,” Jess said.

W
ayland “Specs” Rudd’s
parents’ military surplus store was at the far end of Main Street. It was the very last store on the same side as we were on.

We had planned to head over there a little after nine. I really couldn’t see why Dax thought the day was any better than the night. Everywhere you went there were Z’s. All it took was one bite or scrape and we would be history.

Now there were numerous reasons why it made sense to haul ass over there. That store had an arsenal of military equipment. We are talking bulletproof vests, fatigues, night vision goggles, grenades. Well to be truthful, they weren’t selling the grenades. His father kept them in the basement. They were locked away inside a metal box. Specs had shown them to me. We had stolen one and taken it out of town to explode it. He said his father would have killed him had he found out, but he was terrible at keeping track of inventory. That was why Specs managed to steal cigarettes from him when he was a kid.

But it was more than just about stocking up. It was about checking in on his family. Specs hadn’t been himself since this had kicked off. No one was prepared for this. I honestly thought his family would be alive. They lived and breathed this. What we were experiencing now was what they considered a vacation. He and his family would go on these prepper retreats. They would meet up with other preppers from all over the country and discuss end-time strategies. He’d invited me to go with him. Honestly, I think the kid hated going to them every year. I nearly went on one. It was the same week my father had me committed to the juvenile reform center in Utah. That was the closest I had got to learning how to survive.

Every time Specs would return from one of these trips he would tell us stories about the kind of things they did. It was like they were playing war. They would run through scenarios and run down into underground shelters. He said it was ridiculous but it’s what his parents were into. Somewhere along the way though, I think he got sucked into the paranoia, as the more he went on the retreats the more he started to defend the idea of being prepared. Many folk in the town mocked them. I imagined his parents were the ones laughing now.

“Can I come?” Izzy asked. She hadn’t been out on the last few runs and was starting to get cabin fever. If it was even possible to get that inside an apartment.

“Sure,” Specs replied.

Dax had returned from having a childish fit and had stood watch by the window. Overall the apartment had been a good place to stay for the past couple of days. We really only had to worry about two entrances. The front and back. We had taken what we could find out back and used it to block off the gap between the cruiser and the opening above it. It wasn’t big, and the chances of a Z getting through were slim. But we weren’t taking any chances. Earlier that day we had loaded up a heavy cabinet onto the hood of the car. The noise had attracted several Z’s. Jason had taken them out from the top window.

We also hung up a line with cans attached to it just a few feet from each door. This was more for humans than it was for Z’s. The topic of humans being a threat had come up. We hadn’t given it much thought up until that point. But with dwindling food supplies, we knew others would be doing what we had done and trying to restock. It only made sense that people would head for the gun store to protect themselves. If any did make it in, we certainly didn’t want to give them a reason to rob us. Not that we imagined anyone would in our town. But there were people who had arrived from the cities a few days prior to the run. Who knew what they would do? We carried up the last remaining weapons and ammo and stored it in Matt’s father’s bedroom. The last thing we needed was a bunch of lunatics getting their hands on that.

If we did decide to leave, we knew we wouldn’t be able to take it all.

We had all gathered downstairs. Izzy, Jason, Scot, Specs, and I were going this time. Dax, Jess, and Baja would stay behind. We had already discussed filling up the trunk with as much military surplus we could get our hands on. If his parents were there, we would take them with us.

There was a full moon out that night, which only added to the creepiness of our little run.

The drive was scary as I expected it to be. The lights would fall upon Z’s. We spent a lot of time colliding with them. It was like having birds hit the car over and over. Except these were bigger.

We managed to get to the other side of the town after taking a shortcut down Landers Road, then up Maran Drive. We parked at the side of the store. One by one we slipped out into the night trying to avoid being detected. It wasn’t like they could smell us. Or perhaps they could. We noticed that when we stopped moving, a few looked our way but continued on. We watched each other’s backs as we came around the rear. Specs had a key to the back door but it was already open. He was about to go in when I stopped him. I shook my head.

“Wait.”

I banged on the door a few times. If there were any inside that brought them out.

“Hurry it up,” I said. Jason and Scot were keeping an eye on any approaching Z’s. They had already stabbed a couple of teenage Z’s in the head. They were kids we had been to school with. Seeing that no Z’s came to the door we slowly went in. Scot closed the storm door behind us and then closed the metal one behind that. It was quiet inside.

“Where’s the lights?”

“Forget that. You’ll attract them.”

We flipped on flashlights and scanned the immediate area for any lurkers. There was no blood on the walls or floors, which was a good sign.

“They probably didn’t return from the RV,” Specs said.

“What makes you so confident?” Jason asked.

“Radio. My father’s favorite pastime. If he isn’t on his ham radio here or at the RV, he’s listening in on regular radio channels.”

“For what, new music?” Jason asked.

“For this kind of shit.”

“You’re telling me, your old man listened every day to the radio, expecting to hear about the end times? It’s not like they would have announced it.”

“Sure they would,” Specs replied.

When we made it into the main store, Scot and Jason started loading up duffel bags with anything that we could use.

“Looks like there isn’t much left,” Scot said.

He was right. Usually the store was packed with clothes and military equipment. Now there were a few army fatigues hanging up. Someone had been through here already.

I followed Specs upstairs to their apartment. The door was open. No blood.

Now most of the apartments along Main Street had the same layout. The stores had been built by the same company, which probably didn’t imagine people would end up staying above the stores forever. His father though had done a lot of renovations on the place. He’d added two more rooms; one for Specs and one for his sister. They had a guest room and a super big living and dining area. For a family who were survivalists, they lived pretty well.

Not a sound could be heard inside. We went room to room. The house had that musty smell that you get when none of the windows have been opened in days. Each room was empty. Specs stopped momentarily at the fridge. As he opened it, a light illuminated the room.

“Fuck. The beer is all gone. My father always kept it stocked. Strange.”

Beer wasn’t the only thing they were missing. All the cupboards were bare.

“Maybe they took it up to the RV?”

“No, the place is loaded with more than enough food. Which reminds me.”

He turned and went over to the key rack.

“The RV.”

“The keys are gone?” I scanned the room. “That’s good news, right? I mean that means they probably went up there.”

“Yeah.”

We continued searching. As I stepped into the bathroom, I flipped on the switch. What I saw next made me gag. I switched the light off and came out pretending that I hadn’t seen what I had.

I approached Specs who was heading my direction.

“Already checked it, let’s go.”

“I just need a whizz.”

“Do it downstairs.”

He stopped me. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

I pushed past him, hoping that he would just follow. Instead he stood where he was. There wasn’t much you could get past Specs. Even when he was doped up, he knew if you were talking shit. He immediately turned and started heading towards the bathroom.

“Don’t go in there.”

Before I could get the words out, he burst through the door and hit the light. I had hoped to spare him the foul sight. You see it wasn’t that his family had been attacked by Z’s, or had taken their lives. It was neither of these. All three of them, his father, mother, and little sister, had been shot at point-blank range. Execution style. There were no weapons around them. His mother and sister were partially clothed in the bathtub on their knees, but now curled over the edge. His father was still in a kneeling position though lying to one side of the toilet. They each had the same type of bullet wound in their heads.

On the tiled walls were the words DIE SCUM.

The sound of his cry, followed by him collapsing to the floor, was gut wrenching. I ran to his side and tried to pull him back but he wouldn’t have it. He threw me back. The others came at the sound of his sobbing.

“What happened?” Izzy asked. “Are they dead?”

I nodded.

Whoever had done this must have found pleasure in it. I didn’t know what was worse. Seeing my father die by zombies, shooting my best friend Matt, or knowing that someone had executed Specs’s entire family. The only logical reason was that someone had tried to rob the store and his parents had put up a fight. There was no way in hell they would have let anyone rob them. They had driven out many a customer over the smallest quibble.

“Get the gear in the car. I’ll be there in a minute,” I said to the others.

I stood watching Specs from a distance as he wept on his knees. He held on to the boot of his father and touched the hand of his mother. I had never seen him cry, except once when he had come off his bike as a kid. This was horrific.

“Specs. We need to go.”

He didn’t answer me.

“Dude. I know this is hard. But there’s Z’s coming.”

“I don’t care. Let me die here.”

I came over and put my hand on his shoulder.

“You think your dad would have wanted that?”

He wept even louder.

“We’ll find out who did it. If they’re still alive. I promise you. We’ll find out.”

He snorted. Snot and tears had created a puddle on the floor in front of him. He wiped his face on the back of his sleeve. I didn’t push him any further. I turned and walked over to the window and looked out. The dead moved around. Some in our direction, others in no direction. It was hard to comprehend all that had changed. We had barely time to think. Survival trumped everything else.

“We need to go.”

I turned. He was already up. He came out of his parents’ bedroom with sheets. He went into the bathroom and covered their bodies. He stared for a moment, then without saying a word, he left. I followed behind, closing the apartment door.

O
utside Z’s
were getting closer. Scot and Jason were picking them off. Both of them had suppressors on the ends of their rifles to avoid attracting more Z’s. Specs jumped in the back. No one spoke a word to him on the way back. Over the past few days we had witnessed a lot of shocking things. But that one had hit home. To think that someone had shot them when they were alive and well. It meant that there were others alive in the town. Nasty fuckers. Unless they were attacked by Z’s they would probably be seeking out the same things as we did: weapons, food, anything they could use to survive. All I could think about was Jess and Dax on the way back. The place was protected against intruders to an extent. If they had overpowered Specs’s family, there had to have been more than one. Maybe they could overpower us?

When we got back inside. I slammed the door behind us and had Scot give me a hand to push into place two large cabinets. It was already secure but I didn’t want any surprises in the middle of the night.

Back inside, Dax and Jess looked at us and immediately knew without us even saying. I filled them in on what had happened later, after Specs had gone to sleep in Matt’s room.

“Like I said. This is a different world now. People are going to try and kill us for what we have. We need to be careful. The sooner we can get out of here the better,” Dax said.

I nodded. “Baja, tomorrow we’ll check on your family. Scot and Jason…”

“They are already dead,” Scot said before I could say any more.

“I’m sorry.”

Scot returned to looking out the window into the night.

“What about you, Izzy? Jess?”

Their heads dropped. It was worse than I thought. So many lives had been taken. All of us had lost our parents. The same ones that had brought us together. I only hoped for Baja’s sake that his were still alive. We needed a little hope.

I lit a cigarette. Dax threw me a look. He always rode my ass over smoking, but this time he didn’t say a word. It didn’t matter. We’d be lucky if we made it until the end of the week the way things were. There was a different look in Dax’s eyes. A realization. A sense that we had stepped over a line. That whoever had killed Specs’s family, were capable of doing the same to us. We had a new enemy. Ones that thought like us. Moved like us. They were worse than Z’s. They were the real monsters.