Refuge From The Dead | Book 4 | Dead Winter, page 9
part #4 of Refuge From The Dead Series
It was actually pretty great compared to sleeping out in the tent. Here they had running water, hot food, and protection from the elements.
“I like it. I’ll have to see what Cam and the others say though,” Jess finally said.
“I understand. Come on, I’ll take you back. See if you can’t memorize the way out of here,” she said with a grin.
Jess bumped her gently with her elbow and Barnes let out a laugh then took her back to the tent.
Angie
Angie’s leg felt like it was alternately on fire and being run over by a truck. She wasn’t sure which one she preferred.
Probably neither.
She flipped over to her other side after a time. She felt like she was getting bedsores. She wondered if it were even possible to get bedsores after two days. She didn’t want to find out.
Jean was over snoring in a bed nearby. Angie picked up her paperback and launched it through the air toward her. The book landed on her leg and Jean freaked the hell out.
“You rowdy son of a bitch! How dare you! I’ll teach you to…” She looked around confused, a small paring knife in hand. Angie bit her lip to keep from bursting out into uncontrollable laughter.
Jean gave her a glare that would stop a lesser man’s, or woman’s, heart.
“Just what the heck do you mean by…by…attacking me in my sleep! Are you insane?! Have you lost your beans?” she called out heatedly.
Angie did laugh out loud then. “Lost….my…what?!” she yelled out, clutching her stomach.
“Your beans! Your marbles! Your sense!”
Angie suppressed her giggles and apologized. “I’m sorry, Jean. I just wanted to get your attention, but I didn’t want to yell. You know how you are when you’re sleeping. It takes an apocalypse to wake you up.”
“It does not!” she argued but calmed down a bit. “What do you want?”
“Help me up. I need to go to the bathroom, and I want to sit in a chair for a bit.”
“It’ll be nice when we get a real bathroom and not an old porta-john. I never liked them at all. Why even my old outhouse is better than those modern contraptions. Come on, I’ll help you up, but don’t tell Doc I’ve been letting you sit in a chair,” she grumbled.
“I won’t. Thanks,” Angie promised.
They made it to the back of the large tent, where a porta-potty had been set up just outside the flap. Angie went inside and finished quickly. When she came out, Jean took her arm and she hopped back into the tent.
Jess came through the front flap tiredly but perked up a bit when she saw Angie awake and moving around.
“I’m glad you’re up! Here, let me help you,” she said rushing over.
Angie looped her arm around Jess gently but didn’t plan to put any of her weight on her. They made it to the table in the corner and she sat down, sighing at the relief. Jean propped her leg on a pillow in another chair.
“I went and looked at the cellblock where they want to put us. It’s actually pretty nice…plenty of space. Not too much privacy, but more than we have now.”
“Well, for now, I’m sure it’s fine. I can’t wait to get back home though. I don’t like being around a lot of people, as weird as that sounds. I guess I’ve become an introvert,” Angie teased.
“You mean you want to go back?” Jess asked her, surprised.
“Of course, don’t you? It’s our home!” she said.
“Was. Was our home,” Jess said quietly. “Besides, there is a doctor here. I’ll want one when it’s time.”
Angie stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. “Listen, Jess. We’ll have to talk to the group and see what to do, but I know that Cam will want to go back to the cabin, and I want to be with him. We have animals and supplies there, and I know some of the others won’t want to leave…even after what happened. So, I guess I’m saying…I support whatever you want to do, even if it isn’t what I need to do.”
“Well, I for one, am looking forward to being in a building again. I don’t like this whole quarantine in a tent thing we’ve got going on here. It’s boring!” Jean complained.
Angie and Jess laughed and agreed. Jess’s decision weighed on Angie though, she didn’t want their group to separate.
Chapter Eleven
Hospital
Cam
Cam pulled the Humvee onto the main highway, looking back once more at the gloomy-looking prison in the rearview mirror.
He hated leaving Angie there. Once again, it felt like things were drawing them apart. Honestly, he was just about fed up with this whole being in charge and doing every mission thing.
He supposed he felt a sense of responsibility about it because he knew he was the best man for the job. He couldn’t bear to send out one of his people and end up getting them killed over something that he knew he should have done in the first place. However, he knew these missions and supply runs were starting to get to Angie.
He hadn’t had much time to consider just how much they affected her.
He loved her more than anyone else in the world, and he didn’t want to jeopardize their future together. Things were so uncertain as it was…maybe he should consider just staying in one damned place.
Did they really need anything else?
If they could make it through this virus thing, then come springtime, he was going to take everyone back to the island. They could build a house there and anything else they might need. They could gather enough stuff to last years and then just stay there…just…live.
Peace
That’s what he wanted. Peace.
He looked at Lane over in the passenger seat. She was scanning out the window and he was secretly impressed at her dedication to doing this right. Hell, even Jim would have been trying to nap right now instead of pulling security as he should.
That was something that they battled every day, the urge to relax just for one moment in time. It seemed harmless enough, just close your eyes for a few minutes or just leave a gate unlocked. But…just that one moment could get someone killed.
He knew it and was always on the lookout for the signs that he was slipping. He was so used to it now that it all came naturally. He had to remember that it was different for them, it was still new.
Even for Jim, who had police training, it was still quite a change.
Lane caught him looking. “You think this really will turn out okay?”
He didn’t know if she meant this mission or the whole apocalypse thing.
“I think we’ll be alright.”
They drove in silence for another hour. Cam was keeping an eye on the fuel gauge. They would need to refuel before they hit the hospital. He remembered seeing a station and thought it was another fifteen minutes ahead.
“We’re going to have to refuel. I’ll fill it up. I want you pulling security. We need to make this fast because Doc needs those ventilators.”
“Got it,” Lane replied with a nod. She began to check her weapons and gear.
He watched for the place. They passed the large steel building whose sign proclaimed it to have been a café in the old days. Now it was just a large, abandoned building. The roof looked to have been damaged recently. The gas station would be further up the road.
The fields on either side were filled with mud and dead grasses. They saw flocks of blackbirds feasting on whatever was on the ground. Once, Cam had seen a figure moving way back, near the tree line where the woods began. It was too swift to make it out, but it looked like a Z.
Even out here, the enemy lurked.
They made it to the station. The sign was weathered and losing its brightness. One day, it would be indistinguishable, and the future generations wouldn’t even know what it had been. Hell, one day they may not even know what the place would have been for.
That was a scary thought, and one worth pondering later.
Soon, the fuel would start going bad. Some of it was already. It wouldn’t last indefinitely, and there was nobody left to refine the oil. They would need to think about alternate modes of transportation.
It was mind-blowing to think that, with all the technology available to them, they would be returning to horses and wagons unless there was a concentrated effort to rebuild the infrastructure and industries.
Were there even enough people left to run them?
He pulled around to the side of the station where the underground diesel tanks were sure to be. He got out, pulled his ax, and checked all around the building.
“Let’s fill up, then we’ll take a quick look inside and grab some things,” he said.
“Roger.”
He got the hand-siphon out of the back of the Humvee and fed the tube into the underground tank. Once he got it running, he looked up and followed Lane’s progress. She was roving around, staying vigilant, and that was good. No telling what was around here.
Not just Zs either. Wild dogs were making a huge comeback, and there was that other element to consider. The group with the Humvees.
“Cam?” Lane called, somewhat excitedly.
He looked over as she leaned down to pet…a cat?
“What the hell…?” he said out loud.
He hadn’t seen another cat since Killer. He didn’t think there were that many left.
“Can we take it? Please?” she asked, sticking out her lip in a pout.
Like that shit was going to work on him. Who did she think he was…Nick?
She kept staring at him with the same pouty face.
“Fine, but I’m not taking care of it. It’s all yours. If it gets eaten, that’s on you,” he said in warning.
Yes!” she said, jumping up and down like a kid.
“Get the cat and get back to your job!” he said, a little too harshly.
He didn’t mean to, but sometimes he felt that if he relaxed too much with them, they would take advantage and not take their training seriously. It could kill them.
Anyway, it was second nature to him to be harsh. They’d get over it.
They accomplished their refueling in good time and got back on the road. The cat was curled up in the back seat, and if it were possible for cats to look green…this one did. It looked perilously close to vomiting all over his ruck.
He would kick the damned thing out if it did.
“Poor baby is car sick!” Lane said with a sad face at Cam.
He scoffed. “He’ll get over it,” he said, giving the creature a threatening glance in the mirror. Jim was probably going to love the thing.
“We need to talk about the plan,” he reminded her. She gave up her long-distance helicoptering over the cat and turned back to him.
“What is the plan, exactly?” she asked.
“When we reach the second street from the hospital…you know, the one with the neighborhood and the gas station nearby? We’re going to park the Humvee in the service station garage next door. We’ll be going to the hospital on foot to recon the area.”
“Why on foot? Wouldn’t it be faster to drive up, get the stuff and load it, then leave?” she asked him curiously.
“Faster yes, but also louder. Don’t forget, we are dealing with the Zs and another unknown element. I’d prefer it if they didn’t know we were here,” he explained.
“So, we’re going in stealth mode,” she said with a grin.
“Precisely.”
“But what about the supplies? They’ll be too heavy and bulky to carry.”
“Yes. We’ll stash them outside a door, then drive over and load up. We’ll take a different route back, so we won’t lead anyone back to the prison.”
“Smart,” she commented.
“Just comes with experience,” he said. And it was true.
◆◆◆
Twenty minutes later they were passing through the town once more.
Cam was surprised at how badly it had deteriorated since Z-day. He supposed six months of neglect would cause any place to return to nature, but he hadn’t expected it this fast.
Recent rains had caused the cracks to widen in the pavement and sidewalks. Potholes had widened in the roads. A large limb had fallen onto the roof of an old cash advance business. He had to admit, he got a small bit of satisfaction from that. He couldn’t stand those places, preying on people who couldn’t afford it but had no other choice.
They saw a few skeletons lying motionless in the streets and along the sidewalks. He wondered when those had gotten there. He didn’t remember seeing them before. He passed them by without saying anything though, and Lane didn’t seem to take any notice.
“Was this where you were kept?” he asked her.
She gave him a look he couldn’t decipher and pointed down a side street.
“Down there. In the big place with the fence,” she said solemnly.
He didn’t say anything else.
He knew which place she was talking about. It was huge, and with the gates closed and locked, it would have been hard for any of them to make it out without help. He was damned glad Jim and Nick had come this way. The girls may not be alive today otherwise.
“That’s where the herd was?” he asked.
“Yes. Jim and Nick took most of them down. I would avoid that area though.”
He didn’t plan to go down there. Their objective was three traffic lights down and on the left side of the main street. He decided to get off the main road. It gave him an eerie feeling that he didn’t like. It felt like being watched almost.
He hoped he was wrong.
The side streets were faring worse than the main street as far as potholes were concerned. They hadn’t been in the best shape beforehand, and it was only getting worse now. To say the ride was bumpy was an understatement.
They reached the residential area several minutes later. It had once been a solidly middle-class neighborhood. Schoolteachers, office workers, factory foremen, and the like. Now it was just as overgrown and as run down as any other neighborhood. Later model cars rusted in cracked driveways. Toys and lawn furniture, relics of a past life, waited patiently for someone to come along and pick them back up.
He was afraid nobody ever would.
They crept along the street, darkened and boarded windows glaring down at them in silent vigilance. They too were waiting for someone living to come along. He wondered what horrors those homes held. What sadness and tragedies lurked in the darkened basements and gloomy back bedrooms? It struck him then that these were the graveyards of the future.
There would be no stone markers, no flowers on Sunday, no gradual forgetting of the loved one who had been comfortably and firmly ensconced in the gardens of the dignified dead.
There was no dignity here.
The only markers were the mailboxes that cheerfully proclaimed that The Carrington’s, The Jones’, and Washington’s received mail at this address. The only flowers would be the weeds once so abhorred by the homeowners; the dandelions having won by default in the struggle for lawn domination.
The dead might be forgotten here, though they still may wander profanely and freely in their carpeted and tiled tombs.
The thick, unnerving air of despair and lingering terror made him want to drive faster through this place. It made him want to leave town, gather up his people, and go back to the island. Back to summer. Yet, he couldn’t. People were counting on him. Lives were at stake.
“We’re almost there,” Lane reminded him, and he took his foot off the accelerator.
She gave him a worried look.
“I’m fine, just thinking. Stay sharp, it could go bad quickly in a place like this,” he said as he pulled into the small gravel parking area near the auto shop.
They would need to clear the building and surrounding area quickly, then head over to recon the hospital. He wished they had more time to get a good feel for the amount of activity they would expect to encounter, but time—along with everything else—was something they didn’t have much of.
“Watch our six. Let’s go in through the side and then out through the large door. We need to make this quick and quiet. No firing unless it’s an emergency.” He pulled his ax. She hesitated for a split second before pulling her own machete.
Good girl.
“On me,” he whispered and led the way into the shadowed alley on the side of the building.
◆◆◆
He held his ax in one hand and reached out to turn the old doorknob in the other. As he suspected, it was locked. Lucky for them, he had the key…
Well…he had an ax anyway.
It was going to be louder than he would like, but they didn’t have time to sit here while he fiddled with the lock. That was more Jim’s department anyway. He pulled off his wool hat and put it over the ax handle, then gave it a sharp thrust through the bottom pane of glass.
It was old and gave easily.
He paused and listened for movement from within, and from all around. A clanging sound further down the block drew his attention and he glanced sharply back at Lane, a finger across his lips.
She nodded.
He crept to the edge of the building and peered around the corner. His vision sharpened on movement in the distance. It looked like an animal and moved like a dog. He knew there were probably more. He didn’t want to deal with a pack of feral dogs today…or any day. It didn’t seem to know they were there, and he wanted to keep it that way.
Going back to Lane, he motioned that everything was fine. “Dog,” he whispered.
She nodded once and they turned toward the doorway.
The gloomy interior smelled stale, like a moldy, oily old shop—not entirely unpleasant for Cam. It brought back memories of his grandfather’s garage and all the times he helped him fix things there. What they didn’t smell was anything rotting, and that was promising.
He moved silently through the back room, alert for anything that shouldn’t be there.
A loud, metallic clang crashed through the room.
He looked back quickly at Lane, expecting some sort of attack. Her apologetic expression and the old hubcap lying in the pathway were explanation enough. If there was anything in there, it would know they were there now.
