Torn Apart (Book 1): Terror In Texas (16 page)

Harry whistled low. “This is going to be a problem. That asshole took out the whole rig.”

Liz looked back down the road in the direction from where the military had come. The road was straight and level for at least a mile where it turned into a stand of trees. Liz ignored Harry and John as they debated the damage and studied the kaleidoscopic of color in the distance. She focused and squinted until she realized what she was seeing. Her breath caught in her throat. She could see a mass of infected stumbling toward them in the distance.

“Guys, we got a bigger problem than a few scratches on custom paint and chrome.”

Harry turned to follow her gaze. “We gotta get moving.”

Liz stood at the back end of the trailer where John had propped open the doors. All their carefully gathered supplies were in a pile at one side of the tilted trailer. The bikes hung suspended in mid-air from the tethers used to secure them at the back of the trailer.

“How are we going to get the bikes over the tailgate and to the ground?” John asked.

Harry walked back to the back of the cab. He found a heavy box and opened the lid. Inside, he rooted around until he pulled out several tie-downs, a heavy-duty screwdriver and hammer. “We gotta make this quick. Lizzy, grab that canvas bag in the cab to carry food. Fill it with whatever you can find and think we’ll be able to use.”

Liz ran to the truck, climbed in the sleeper and rooted through the previous owner’s cabinets and cubbies. She found the duffle and started pulling out the clothes. When she caught a whiff, she realized it was the driver’s dirty laundry. She dumped the remains of hash-marked, tighty-whities then threw in an army blanket a couple bar towels, first aid kit, firearms and grabbed each of their packs. She climbed out of the cab with a final look and ran to the back of the trailer.

Harry and John rigged a pulley system from the roof of the trailer. They threaded tie-downs through the roof of the trailer then created a sling. Once it supported John’s bike, Harry played out the length of the tie-down while John guided the bike over the back edge of the trailer. When the bike rested on the ground, John untied the sling.

“Get a move on, man. We got company coming fast.” John called out.

Liz tied her and Harry’s packs to the back fender of his tri-wheeled bike. John motioned her toward the trailer and made a step up with his entwined fingers. “Get what you can, but hurry while we get Harry’s bike down.”

Liz flung the near-empty bag into the trailer then reached up to pull herself into the gloom. She scrambled around the last bike and scuttled over pallets to bust open boxes. She threw cans of stew, fruit, beans, and meat into the bag. As an afterthought, she stuffed three rolls of toilet paper in an end pocket. She dumped in a box of tampons and a bottle of antibacterial soap then stuffed some odds and ends in another pocket from a pharmacy tote. She pulled the bag to the opening and pushed it over the edge.

With that done, she used the blanket to ease two cases of water out. She stacked the water cases near John’s bike.

“Gotta hurry, folks.” John warned as he looked over his shoulder toward the approaching horde.

Liz turned to see Harry struggling to get the front wheel of the second bike high enough to get it over the edge of the trailer floor. He was having a hard time hauling the weight of the bike up and over the raised lip of the trailer. Liz pulled herself back into the trailer and added her weight to his. With a sudden jerk, the wheel cleared the edge and jerked free. The bike swung out.

“It’s over! Ease it down. Hurry!” John yelled as he pulled the guide strap away from the trailer and toward the ground. The drop was not exactly controlled, but left the bike in one piece as far as Liz could tell.

Harry jumped to the ground and reached up, but Liz waved him away. He grabbed the supply duffle and pulled two bungee cords around the bag on the back of his bike. John picked up the cases of water and stacked them on his bike and tied them down. They each picked up packs and stowed them.

The trio struggled to ready the bikes as they kept a wary eye on the pack of predators’ getting closer as the minutes ticked by. The infected were barely thirty feet away by the time both bikes were ready to go. Harry threw his leg over the side of the bike and pulled Liz onto the seat behind him.

“Let’s go!” Harry yelled.

John’s bike roared to life, he kicked it into gear and gave it gas. The bike made a slow turn away and began moving away from the approaching horde.

“Come on, Harry…I’m feeling a little exposed here.” Liz yelled.

Harry pushed the starter and machine coughed and failed to crank. “Fuck me!” Harry cursed.

“We gotta go, Harry!” Liz pulled her gun and pointed it toward the nearest infected ready to fire while she clung to Harry’s back.

Harry reached under the gas tank of the bike and gave a valve a twist as he called over his shoulder with a grin. “Forgot the shut-off.”

He pushed the starter again, and the machine coughed then roared to life. The dead were close enough for Liz to see the clouded eyes. She could hear their moans and the stench grew made her gag. It was hard to believe only a few days ago they had been regular people with normal lives.

She saw a woman in a sundress with a sandal dangling from one ankle limping toward them. Behind her was a teen with pink hair and black eyes and a carpenter still wearing his toolbelt. A hammer dangled from a leather loop hitting the carpenter’s leg with each halting step.

Harry yelled. “Hang on Lizzy, this is going to be rough!”

He fired a head shot to take out the carpenter. “Cover me!” He shouted as he jammed his handgun in the chest holster and twisted the throttle.

“Go!” Liz screamed as she pointed her handgun, took aim and fired.

The bullet passed through the teen’s neck then hit a smaller child stumbling along behind her. Liz fired again, but the shot went wild and hit a monster still wearing a dress shirt. A chunk of shirt and flesh tore away but the monster barely noticed the impact. The arm separated from the monster’s side barely clinging to the shoulder by a few tendons and flesh but he kept stumbling toward them.

Harry turned the bike around and headed away from the approaching horde. John fired two shots before he holstered his weapon and roared ahead. Harry gunned the engine and Liz was slammed against the seat back. She holstered the handgun as they sped away from the horde.

When they cleared the mass of infected, Harry settled into cruising speed, Liz leaned into Harry’s back and tears slid down her face. She had shot a child. She had seen the boy’s head explode and his body crumple to the ground.

Steve looked in the rearview mirror at the faces staring back at him. Four overgrown kids expected him to have all the answers and he was sure he didn’t have any at the moment. Stopping to discuss options had brought no clarity. He wondered if Andy got to her car, but knew he’d probably never know. Finally, he cranked the van and shoved the gearshift into drive.

“We’re getting out of town,” Steve stated to no one in particular. “I have a buddy who lives about two hundred and thirty miles from here. We’ll hang out there until this crazy shit is over.”

Della gave Steve a questioning look, but he just shrugged. Finally, he added. “You know him.”

Della looked startled. “Not Randy Matherson! You do know he’s crazy?”

Steve had no answer so he remained silent as he put the van in gear. Finally, he announced. “We have to get gas pretty soon. When we stop, we can get something to eat.”

Steve eased the vehicle onto the street and around unmoving vehicles and past feeding dead. They were forced to creep along at a snail’s pace. At such a slow pace, they drew plenty of attention.  When the monsters noticed their terrified faces through the glass windows, Steve called out to Jimmy.

“Use your roll of duct tape and the newspaper in back to cover the window. Leave a few holes to watch through. We’re drawing a lot of attention with those things being able to see us. They look at us like a moving buffet.”

Jimmy retrieved the paper and with Zack’s help covered the windows with several layers of newsprint, leaving small flaps to look outside. The interior of the van grew dark and claustrophobic, but no one complained about not being seen or seeing the monsters outside.

Della taped a sheet of paper to the sun visor and let it hang in front of her face. “You think this will help?”

“I guess we’ll see,” Steve answered and the van crept through the clutter of disabled vehicles and monsters devouring those too slow to escape. They had covered his door window and hung paper with spy holes from his visor as well.

It took several hours to make it to the edge of a suburban neighborhood where he turned the van off on yet another side street. They made their way through the neighborhood that had a much more rural look to it.  The curbs had disappeared and lots were bigger. They were seeing only a few infected milling around a white house in the distance. At the end of the street Steve turned the van onto a narrow farm-to-market road.

With no more infected in sight, both Steve and Della tucked the paper above the visors and he accelerated. Houses grew fewer and farther between. Using the side mirror, Steve watched as the infected fell further and further behind.

As they neared a tee in the road, he sped up even more and raced around the corner. He drove another mile, made another turn and headed back toward the highway. All the while, the two boys watched through the back window to see if any infected still followed.

Steve noticed Della’s furtive looks toward his legs from time to time as they drove. Finally, he asked. “What?”

“Your prosthetics? They’re new. I’m good, but you shouldn’t be wearing them for this long.” Della answered. “You know it took a while to get accustomed to your first pair.”

Steve raised his hand. “I’m just sitting here and have been since we got in the van.”

Della sighed. “You have to be careful.”

Steve only shrugged as an answer. “I don’t see I have much choice right now.”

Della shrugged and fell silent.

After another three miles, they saw a sign advertising a convenience store ahead. Steve was watching the road and didn’t realize what he was seeing until they had passed it.

“Did you catch that?” Steve asked. After a chorus of negative answers, he ordered they tear the paper from the windows and help him watch.

The terrain opened up and Steve used the hand control to accelerate. Everyone grew excited at the thought of getting out of the van. It had been hours since they had peed alongside the road. The two girls had complained and fussed until Della pulled them into the bushed with a stern. The speedometer crept up to sixty miles per hour. Jimmy clung to the back of Steve’s seat looking over his shoulder.

“There!” He called from behind Steve. “We just passed it. To the right on that last road, maybe a quarter mile down, on the right. I saw the Shell sign.”

Steve stopped the van and put the vehicle in reverse. He pressed the gas lever and used the rearview camera to ease back to the intersection. He turned the wheel onto the blacktop facing the afternoon sun.

It was hard to see with the glare, but the road looked empty ahead. Steve put the van in drive and released the break. He accelerated and the van began moving toward the oasis of fast food and gasoline. When they got fifty feet from the driveway they saw two cars and a truck. Two of the vehicles appeared to be customers while the third, an old Camry was parked in the shade of an awning at the side of the building.

The BMW had stopped at the end of the pump island and both doors stood open. The inside of the vehicle was covered in dark brown gunk and red splatters and smears streaked the windows. The late-model Ford truck sat next to the pump closest to the building with no one in sight. It was eerily quiet. No patrons or employees could be seen moving about. The lights glowed shown from inside the store.

“I don’t like the looks of it.” Steve glanced down at the gas gauge, he sighed. “But we don’t have a choice. We have to stop.” He reached for his wallet to retrieve a credit card.

He slowly approached the pumps closest to the road. No one appeared from the front of the store or the vehicles. When the van was stopped he turned to the back seat. “I’m going to get gas then we can check out the store.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Sandy commented.

“Me too.” Chimed in Martha and Della.

“Okay, but we do this smart. First, we get gas then check out the store. Stay in the van until then.” Steve ordered. “All of you keep an eye out and let me know if you see anything move.”

Della nodded. “Got it.”

Steve eased open his door, then teetered his way to the gas pump. He slid the card in the reader hoping the pump was turned on and would accept payment. He punched in the appropriate zip code on the keypad and selected the grade of fuel then stuck the nozzle into the gas tank. He set the release control open then stepped back to the van door.”

“Any movement?” He asked Della.

“Nothing. Isn’t that kinda strange? A little weird with the car doors open.” Della answered.

The only noise was the steady clicking of the gas pump as it measured out gasoline. “When the tank is full, I’m going to take a look,” Steve announced.

“No. You can’t. If anything happens to you, we’re all screwed. I can’t drive your van and neither can anyone else.” Della retorted.

“Yes, you can. The gas and break peddles are still functional.” Steve argued. Just ignore the hand controls.

“Okay. That may be, but we need you. I don’t know where Randy lives.” Della paused then continued. “When you’ve got gas, maybe we can drive closer to the door and take a look.”

Steve answered. “No. I don’t want to limit our maneuverability. I’ll pull the van away from the pumps then you and I can walk back and check out the store. If it’s safe, we use the head and get whatever we can find to eat.”

The pump clicked off and Steve hobbled back to hang up the nozzle. He closed the gas tank cover then started the van engine. He made a right turn after the pump island and stopped about twenty feet from the glass door.

When the vehicle stopped, Della told the kids. “Stay here.”

“Jimmy get behind the wheel, if something happens, drive away. Just use the floor controls.” Steve ordered over his shoulder as he opened the door and began to ease out with a steel rod in hand.

Della opened the passenger door and walked around to meet Steve at the back of the van carrying her own stainless steel rod with the ceramic knee joint on the end. They approached the storefront glancing from side to side as they walked.

“You’re getting better on the blades,” Della whispered.

“Don’t have a choice. I didn’t pick up my walking legs.”

“I did. They’re in the bag I’ve been lugging around.” Della answered.

Steve paused and looked toward Della. “We’re running for our lives and you stop to pick up legs? I thought it was food and water in the bag.”

Della shrugged and nodded toward the glass door. “There is some of that. I just threw in those too.” She looked toward the convenience store. “How do we do this?”

“You pull open the door then stand back while I check it out. If anything happens, get to the van and get the kids outta here.”

Della nodded then placed her hand on the door handle. She looked into the gloom of the store. “Even with the lights are on I can’t see anything.” She whispered.

Steve stepped inside using the doorframe to steady himself. He looked from side to side then deeper into the recesses of the store. A thick coppery smell hung heavy in the air. Amid the smell of blood was the odor of voided bowels mingled with the stale beer. A quick glance toward the register and counter provided no hint of the clerk’s whereabouts. 

“I’ll clear the store then you can signal the kids,”

Steve took another couple steps into the store and saw the reason for the heavy scent of alcohol in the air. At the end of the counter-top, a six-pack of beer bottles lay shattered on the floor. Steve raised his weapon when he looked behind the counter and saw a man slumped at the end of the cigarette display. He clutched a petite girl in his arms. The back of her head was damp with blood. Next to him, lay a handgun.

The man looked up when he heard Steve behind him. “Fucking bitch killed my Sadie. The woman in the BMW was sick and attacked my girl. I shot her, but when I was pulling the body off Sadie the man came from the back of the store and bit me.” He moaned.

Steve hadn’t heard Della come into the store and walk up behind him. He jumped when she spoke.

“We have to help him.”

“Stay back, Della.” Steve watched the man as he took a deep halting breath. He looked around for the other people the man mentioned.

“I threw their bodies out the back door. I have to get Sadie home before she turns.” He sighed deeply. “I’m bit. I’m not going to last long.”

Della stepped around Steve and pulled a bottle of water from a display. She grabbed a handful of paper towels and poured the water on it. She wiped at his face and offered him a drink. He smiled back at her sadly and shook his head.

He struggled to his feet. “I can’t stay.” He grabbed the young woman under the arms and pulled her to his chest. With a grunt of pain, he pulled her into his arms. Della stepped forward, but he waved her off. “I got this.”

When the young woman’s arms fell away Della saw a small engagement ring on her left hand. “I’m sorry.” She whispered.

The man looked up. “I’m taking her home. Take what you need, the world has gone to shit anyway and I don’t give a damn.”

Without saying anything more, he shuffled out of the store and to the open door of the red truck. He eased Sadie inside then slipped in beside her. He slammed the door and fired up the engine. He spun out flinging gravel across the parking lot and pulled out on the blacktop. With black smoke billowing from the muffler, he sped down the road and disappeared over a small hill.

Steve and Della had followed the man outside. Della waved at the kids. The van door slowly opened and the ramp unfolded and lowered. The four kids spilled from the van and hurried toward the store.

Steve turned to Della. “Get all the food and water you can. Look for anything that is usable. I’m moving the van closer to the door then looking for some gas cans.” With that, he stepped out into the late afternoon sun.

A few minutes later, he parked the van in front of the door opened the ramp. Almost immediately, Zack and Jimmy carried cases of bottled water into the van.

Della and the girls each carried a variety of packaged foodstuff in plastic milk crates. The boys continued to load water behind the back seat while the girls stacked the food crates behind the front seats.

Steve walked through the store looking for any usable items then headed into the storage room at the back where he found two five-gallon fuel cans. He carried them outside and filled them with gas. He called Zack over and together they balanced the cans on the back bumper and used two pilfered bungee cords to secure them. They finished anchoring the can, headed back into the store when Steve straightened and stopped. He cocked his head and listened. After another shot rang out and he knew it was gunfire.

He called into the store. “Time to go people! I just heard gunfire! Della, get everyone in the van, I’m checking the car.”

Steve ran to the BMW and searched the front of the car, opening the glove box, console and reaching under the driver’s seat. He pulled a nine millimeter from under the seat, checked the load then shoved it into his waistband. He pushed the trunk release then hurried to the back of the car and rummaged through the trunk. He found two boxes of shells, a tire iron, a blanket, some glow sticks and a first aid kit.

“Yuppies. Well, they were prepared for a few things but not the undead, I guess.” He commented with a crooked smile.