Chapter 3
Kyle sat down in the driver’s seat and steered the bus down the street. The zombies stood where they were, still banging and wailing, even after the bus pulled out of their grasp.
“They did set a trap for us, but some of them are still pretty stupid,” Jordan said, watching them.
“Kyle! Stop the bus and let me get the duffel bags out of the street,” I said as we neared the bags.
Kyle pulled up alongside them. I climbed down the steps and carefully opened the door. I looked around, and the zombies were still standing back where the bus had been. "Morons,” I grumbled as I reached down and lifted the bags into the bus. I closed the door and we took off toward downtown.
I sat down in the seat behind Kyle, watching him drive. Occasionally he had to swerve to get around the vehicles that had been abandoned, burned out, and flipped over. His expression was intensely focused as he drove, like he was on a mission. There were several book bags on the floor, and Jordan started looking through them.
“Looking for some reading material?” I teased.
Jordan looked mildly annoyed at me and kept searching. In one bag, he found a Swiss army knife. In another bag, he found a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He held them up for my inspection.
“Nice,” I admitted. At least the knife and lighter could be useful. Beside the back door, I saw a first aid kit and a fire extinguisher mounted to the wall. “We can probably find a use for those too,” I said pointing.
I turned back to Kyle. “So what’s your plan?” I asked. “How are you going to get your gun? We don’t have a weapon, and zombies could be coming out in the daytime downtown too,” I said.
“I’ll drive up to the door of the diner. You two can stay on the bus while I go inside. I’ll move fast, and hopefully I’ll be back on the bus before they know we’re here.”
“We have to help you. What if you don’t make it?” I asked.
“I’ve been in hand-to-hand combat with zombies before,” Kyle continued. “It’s dirty and disgusting, but they can be defeated that way.”
“You can’t be serious,” I said. The strong sense of protective fear I felt for him was unexpected. “What if you’re bitten or killed?”
“If I’m bitten, I can still drive for a couple of days before the virus kills me. I can get you going the right way on the road, and then I’ll get out.” He paused. “Then you can kill me.”
“Kill you?” Jordan interjected. “We’re not going to kill you.”
I nodded. “We can find you a safe place to hide. Maybe the military has treatment available by now.”
Kyle smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m sure they do.” He didn’t believe that. “If I’m killed, you need to drive west. Just keep going as far as you can. Keep your eye out for other transportation on the way because this bus will only get you so far. If you pass a gas station, stop and check to see if there’s any chance the pumps work.” He continued issuing orders like a drill sergeant planning a battle.
When we arrived downtown, Kyle stopped the bus. “Leave it running,” he told us. “We may need to get out of here fast.”
“Do we really have to do this?” I asked. “We don’t need the gun while we’re on the bus.”
Kyle looked at me for a long moment. “We’ll need it when we run out of gas,” he said. “If I’m not back in five minutes, drive on.”
Clearly, there was no talking to him when he was like this. He was right though, and it was gnawing at me more than I wanted it to.
“Casey,” Kyle said. “Sit in the driver’s seat and keep your hand on the door handle. Be ready to open the doors when I get back and close them behind me as fast as you can. Got it?”
I nodded, feeling the skin crawl down my arms.
Kyle walked down the steps and pushed the door ajar. He looked all around for signs of movement. He carefully stepped out and onto the sidewalk. Without looking back, he entered the door of the diner. I leaned sideways in my seat to watch him as far as I could, and then he disappeared into the darkness.
Waiting was torture. Jordan and I kept exchanging nervous glances. Five minutes passed. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. “Here Jordan,” I said getting up. “Take my seat and man the door. I’m going in.”
“You can’t go in there. He said to leave if he didn’t come back,” Jordan argued.
“I don’t care what he said. We need him. We won’t last a day out there without him.”
“You’re not making sense,” Jordan insisted. “He’s a soldier for goodness sakes! If he’s down in there, what makes you think you can help?”
I pushed past him and retrieved the fire extinguisher from the back of the bus.
“Oh, that will help a lot,” Jordan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Just be ready with that door!” I said over my shoulder as I stepped out of the bus.
When I stepped through the door of the diner, I could hear noise coming from the back. Crashing pots and pans. That horrible rasping breathing. Then, an unmistakable scream. Kyle was in trouble! I dashed through the door and into the kitchen. Kyle brandished a meat cleaver and was throwing anything he could grab at a zombie that kept lurching at him.
“Here, you big moron!” I yelled at it, trying to distract it. It looked at me and then charged. I pulled the pin from the fire extinguisher, pointed the nozzle at it, and sprayed into its face. A jet of white powder shot out and covered its face. It stumbled and fell. “I raised the heavy metal canister into the air and slammed it down onto the zombie’s head with all my strength. It made contact with a sickening, slurping thud, and the slimy beast faltered to the floor.
“What are you doing in here?” Kyle fumed. “I told you to leave if I didn’t come out.”
“I was saving your ass!” I countered.
“You can’t take chances like that!” he lectured me.
“Oh, and you can?”
“It’s my job!” he said.
“Um, guys,” Jordan said standing in the doorway holding the Swiss army knife out in front of him. “Let’s just get the gun and get out of here.”
Kyle opened the freezer door and withdrew a gun, a backpack, and a sleeping bag. I just looked at Jordan. “Really, Jordan?” I asked. “A Swiss army knife?”
“It’s better than a fire extinguisher,” he insisted.
“It got the job done,” I spat.
“Let’s move!” Kyle said urgently.
We ran back to the bus and closed the door. Kyle slid into the driver’s seat, shifted into drive, and we pulled away from the curb.
“That was really stupid back there,” Kyle said to me, looking at me through the over-sized rearview mirror. “Stupid, but badass,” he added almost smiling.
Satisfied, I leaned back into my seat.
“Why don’t you guys get some sleep for now?” Kyle suggested. “We can drive in shifts.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Jordan said.
I picked up Kyle’s sleeping bag and wadded it up to make a pillow. I lay down and curled up in the seat. It wasn’t the Hilton, but it was better than the gym floor back at the high school. As I was drifting off, I thought about Harley and wished I could have told her we would be back with help. She would be worried sick.
When I woke up, it was pitch dark and the bus had stopped. I sat up and frantically looked around. I could see nothing. “Kyle!” I shouted.
“What?” he answered sleepily. “What’s wrong?” he asked from somewhere in the darkness.
“What’s going on?” Jordan yelled.
“Settle down guys,” Kyle said. “We’ve just stopped for the night. Everything’s okay.”
“Where are we?” I asked.
“We’re inside a car wash,” Kyle answered. “I pulled in and closed the doors so I could get some rest.”
That explained the blackness. As my eyes adjusted, I could
see outline of the rotor brushes pushed up against the side of the bus. It was ingenious. “Okay,” I said, “But where are we exactly?”
“We’re outside of the city in a place called Ransdell,” Kyle answered.
“Ransdell,” Jordan said. “Then we’re about a hundred miles out of the city.”
“Are we out of gas?” I asked.
“Almost,” Kyle answered.
“So what do we do now?” Jordan asked anxiously.
“We’ll stay here until morning,” Kyle answered. “We’re safe in here for now. Tomorrow we can look for some fuel or another vehicle.”
“What about the zombies?” Jordan asked from somewhere in the dark. “There may be no safe time to be out now.”
“The virus may have mutated, but it will take time to affect large numbers of them. There should be few if any zombies to worry about. We have the gun now and plenty of ammunition to cover us,” Kyle said, confidently.
I wish I felt as confident. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “I need to go to the bathroom,” I said.
“Me too,” said Jordan.
“There’s room to go outside the bus,” Kyle said. “I went earlier. Turn to the right just outside the door and walk to the end of the bus. There’s space back there.”
I never thought I would miss being at the gym, but working toilets were now a luxury I missed a lot. At least it was dark. That meant privacy.
“You go first,” Jordan said.
I carefully got up and walked toward the front of the bus. I felt my way down the steps to the folding door. I opened it and stepped carefully down onto the concrete floor. I kept my right arm on the bus and felt my way toward the back. I found the back corner of the carwash and carefully went to the bathroom. Outside, I could hear the wailing of zombies in the night. Although I knew we were safe for now, I felt vulnerable, a feeling I didn’t like at all.
I felt my way back to the bus and groped for the seat. I mistakenly grabbed someone I the dark.
“Hey!” Jordan said. “I’m in this seat.”
“Sorry,” I said, quickly jumping back.
“Ouch!” Kyle said. “You’re on my foot.”
“Sorry,” I said again.
A small flame appeared in the darkness as Jordan flicked the lighter. It lit up the bus, and I could see my way back to my seat.
“My turn,” Jordan said, moving toward the door.
“Oh sure,” I said. “You get a light.”
Jordan grinned and stepped out the door.
“Hungry?” Kyle asked.
I was. “Yes, I am. You?” I asked.
“Starving,” he said.
I heard him moving in the dark, followed by the sound of a zipper. “I have some tuna in here,” he said. Cans rattled in the dark. I heard the metallic snap of a can opener breaking the seal of a can.
“I smell tuna,” Jordan said, climbing back onto the bus. He lit the lighter again, and Kyle handed me an open can. He opened two more cans, gave one to Jordan, and kept one for himself.
“Enjoy!” Kyle said.
I missed having utensils. Eating tuna from a can without a fork in the dark wasn’t easy. I had no idea what time it was, and I was anxious to get moving again. “Any idea what time it is?” I asked.
A faint green glow appeared in the dark. “Four o’clock,” Kyle answered, looking at his military issue watch. His face appeared briefly in the glow.
“When can we get out of here?” Jordan asked.
“I figure we have a couple of hours before daybreak,” Kyle said. “I’ll open up the doors, and we’ll move on. Hopefully we can find some gas or another vehicle soon.”
We all finished our tuna, and I wiped my hands on one of the canvas of one of the duffle bags on the floor. My hands still smelled like tuna. I missed the trickling water back at the high school. I thought again about Harley and the others and hoped they were okay. We didn’t have much time to waste trying to find this safe zone Kyle mentioned. I wondered if he even knew for sure where it was. And what would they do to us if and when we found it.
“We should rest some more while we can,” Kyle said.
“Yeah,” I said. “I guess so.” I lowered myself down in the seat and slept.
Sometime later, I awoke to the sound of the large overhead door opening in front of the bus. I sat up and watched Kyle pulling the door up with chains that hung to the side of it. Light streamed into the dank, musty car wash. Outside, I could see the deserted street. Kyle climbed back onto the bus and reached under the steering column to start it again. The engine sputtered twice and then started.
Kyle pulled us out of the garage, and onto the street. I watched the houses pass as we drove by. “Think we should look for some supplies?” I asked.
“We don’t need anything right now,” Jordan said. “What do you want?”
“We need to find some water,” I said. “I also wouldn’t mind getting some jeans.”
“How can you think of clothes at a time like this?” Jordan asked.
“I’m not trying to make a fashion statement. It’s not just about clothes,” I said. “If we end up walking I want some jeans. They’ll be safer if we run into zombies than wearing shorts. I could get scratched more easily in these.”
Jordan looked incredulously at me. “Don’t be ridiculous! It’s too risky.”
“She’s right,” Kyle said, interrupted. “We may be walking through some rough terrain, and we do need water. It’s as important as the fuel.”
Jordan didn’t look convinced, but he stopped arguing. “Turn right,” he said. “That’s the way to the business district. My grandmother lives here.” He paused. “Lived here,” he corrected himself.
Like most of us, Jordan had lost track of his family and didn’t know if they were alive, dead, or undead. We rarely talked about it. Being sad was an indulgence we couldn’t afford if we were to focus on our survival. Ahead of us on the right, a small strip mall came into view.
“We’ll stop here,” Kyle said. “There’s a gas station and some stores. We might be able to get everything we need.”
Kyle pulled the bus up to the gas station. A diesel pump stood off to the side. He maneuvered the bus up to it. We all looked around for signs of zombies, but the area seemed deserted. We climbed out of the bus. Kyle stood ready with the gun and told me and Jordan to connect the fuel line to the bus. Jordan removed the gas cap, and I pulled the hose around to begin filling. There was a manual control valve mounted on the side of the tank. I twisted it and began filling the tank. Some came out, but not much. At least it was something. We boarded the bus again and drove it over closer to the entrances of the stores. Fortunately, there was a clothing store and a grocery store. We decided to go into the clothing store first. Again, we climbed off the bus and stepped onto the pavement. We carefully walked into the clothing store. Like everything else, it had been broken into, but it looked like only the cash registers had been targeted. The clothes were largely untouched. I guessed clothes hadn’t been a high priority for the looters at the time. We quickly moved back to the women’s department, and I found a rack of jeans. I grabbed a couple of pairs, and we quickly ducked out of the store.
We moved to the grocery store, which had much more damage. The shelves were basically empty. “We’ll have to check the stock room,” Kyle said.
Jordan and I exchanged wary glances. The back of the store was dark. “Let’s go,” Kyle said. “We can’t waste time.”
We walked toward the swinging doors at the back of the store. Kyle motioned for us to get behind him. He opened one of the doors and scanned the area. It was dim, but we could still see. “Come on in. It’s okay,” he said. “But keep watching.”
We entered the stock room. It too had been looted, but there were still some unopened boxes stacked around.
“There’s water,” Kyle said, pointing toward the back corner.
We carefully moved forward. Jordan and I grabbed two gallon jugs each. We had just turned to leave when Kyle held up his hand. We stopped and then heard what had startled him. Raspy breathing was coming from a darkened area between us and the door back to the main part of the store. Suddenly, they appeared. Four zombies came slithering toward us, leaving a trail of slime as they moved.
Kyle took aim and fired. The first zombie’s chest exploded, and its body fell to the ground. The other three lurched forward. Kyle fired, but missed. In a second, one lunged at Jordan. He flung his arm at it, hurling a jug of water at its head. The head flew off and splattered on the floor. The other two came at me and Kyle. I dropped the jeans and jugs of water. Trying to run, I slipped on the slime on the floor and fell. The zombie lurched forward and came down on me. I grabbed it by the neck and started to squeeze as hard as I could. It was dripping that horrible smelling mucous onto my clothes. I brought my leg up and kicked it in the gut. It flew off me, and I scrambled to my feet. Kyle was fighting the other zombie, furiously punching its face. The zombie that attacked me was climbing to its feet. I spied a broken wood pallet on the floor and pulled off a strip of wood. It had rusty nails sticking out of one end. I began swiping at it with the board. With each swipe, the nails snagged its flesh, slinging bits and pieces through the air.
“Don’t just stand there Jordan!” I yelled. “Help us!” Jordan grabbed a commercial push broom that was leaning against a rack of boxes. He swung it hard at my zombie’s back. It penetrated its back and pushed through the front of its chest, spraying black, oozing blood into the air. Jordan raised the broom and struck it again and again until it fell onto the floor. We both turned toward Kyle.
Kyle swung hard at the zombie’s face again, and it split open. He shoved its body aside.
“Grab the stuff and let’s go!” he said. He picked up his gun and grabbed a gallon of water. I picked up some water and slung the jeans over my shoulder. We ran through the door and through the store. We boarded the bus and slammed the door closed. I looked down at my clothes. I was covered with rotting blood. Luckily the jeans were mostly clean. I moved to the back of the bus to change.
“Here,” Kyle said as he rummaged through his army backpack. He withdrew an olive green t-shirt and threw it to me.
“Thanks,” I said.
Both Jordan and Kyle turned around as I undressed. I had zombie blood on my arm. “Damn!” I said.
“What’s wrong?” Kyle asked, turning to look. Instantly, his face flushed red as he saw me standing there in my underwear. He turned back around.
“I’ve got zombie blood on my arm,” I said.
“Check the first aid kit,” Jordan said. “Maybe there’s some disinfectant.”
I grabbed the kit and opened it. Inside I found a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some gauze pads. I poured some alcohol onto a pad and wiped the blood off my arm. I was lucky I had no broken skin. As long as I had no open wounds, the blood wouldn’t infect me.
“You okay?” Kyle asked with concern on his face.
“Yeah,” I answered. “I don’t have any open cuts. I wadded up the bloody shorts and top I had taken off and threw them out the window of the bus. I pulled on the jeans and Kyle’s shirt. The clothes were a little big, but they worked. That was what mattered.
“Let’s get moving,” Kyle said, jumping back into the driver’s seat.
We drove out of the parking lot and turned down the street. “The interstate isn’t far,” Jordan said. “Go this way,” he directed.
We were probably about a mile from the interstate when the engine of the bus started missing, causing it to buck and jerk. “We can’t be out of gas,” I said. We just put some in.”
“It’s not the gas,” Kyle said. Something’s wrong with the engine. We’ve overheated,” he said, looking at the instrument panel. Steam started billowing out from under the hood of the bus as we rolled to a stop.
Jordan cursed. “Now what can we do?”
“We’ll look for another vehicle or a shelter,” Kyle said calmly. “Grab what you can carry.”
Reluctantly, we packed the water jugs into the duffle bags with the food. I packed the first aid kit. We lifted our loads and stepped off of the bus.
“Stay in the middle of the street,” Kyle advised. “That way we’ll see them coming.”
Fortunately, we were in a neighborhood, and the houses sat back from the street. There was room to run if need be. We started walking in the direction of the interstate. Ahead, I saw a child’s wagon abandoned in a yard. “I’m going to get that,” I said. I dropped my load and ran over to get the wagon. I pulled it into the street and stacked my bags on it. “You can put some of yours on too,” I said.
Kyle and Jordan loaded some of their loads onto the wagon. “We can take turns pulling it,” I said. “That way we’ll conserve our energy.”
“Good thinking,” Kyle said.
We continued walking down the street. By midday, my feet were starting to hurt. We had made it to the interstate. Unfortunately, we hadn’t found a viable means of transportation. “How far do you suppose we’ve walked,” I asked Kyle.
“I’d say about five miles,” he answered. We weren’t making good time. “There’s an exit up ahead,” he continued. Ahead a large sign indicated there was a town. There was a gas station sign and a hospital symbol posted on the sign. “We’ll stop there.”
It would be great to have a break. We continued on, and about thirty minutes later, we found ourselves at a truck stop at the end of the exit ramp. We approached it carefully. It looked promising because there were several abandoned vehicles parked outside. We moved to the door and looked through the glass. There were people inside! Kyle pulled at the door. It was locked. A burly, rough-looking man came toward the door. He looked us over cautiously. “Any of you sick?” he asked.
“No,” Kyle answered. “Nobody’s infected. Can we come in?”