Chapter 4
The man unlatched the door and let us inside. I pulled the wagon inside as well. He closed the door behind us, locking it back. “What are you doing out there?” he asked. “Are you crazy?”
“We were trying to make it to the safe zone,” Kyle said. “We broke down in Ransdell, and we’ve walked from there.”
“Safe zone?” the man asked.
“Yeah,” Kyle said. “The military has set up a safe zone to the west of here. I estimate it is less than a hundred miles from here.”
“My name’s Darrell,” he man said, extending his huge hand.
Kyle shook his hand. “I’m Kyle, this is Casey and Jordan,” he said, gesturing toward the both of us.
“Come on in and rest,” Darrell invited. “You’re welcome to stay here if you want. We’re hoping for rescue soon. We’ve got plenty of supplies, and the building is secure,” he said, locking the door behind us. He walked back into a large dining area where about twenty other people sat around tables watching us. Of to the side of the dining area were a gift shop and convenience store that were disturbingly quiet.
I looked around at all the glass windows and questioned just how ‘secure’ the place was. “Can’t the zombies break those windows?” I whispered to Jordan.
Jordan looked uneasy. “Enough of them probably could,” he whispered back.
Kyle shot us an annoyed look. “Don’t talk like that. You’ll upset these people,” he said quietly.
We walked over to the others, who began introducing themselves. I had to admit that it was comforting to be around people again. Two of the women went back to the kitchen and returned with soft drinks for us. Miraculously, they were cold!
“Oh my gosh!” I said. I took a drink from the carbonated beverage. “This is amazing.” It was the best thing I had ever tasted.
“You have electricity?” Kyle asked, looking hopeful.
“Yes,” one of the women said. “We use it to power the refrigerators only.”
“There’s a propane generator in the garage,” Darrell explained. “We’ve been conserving it by only using it for the refrigerator to keep our food supply cold.
A garage! They had a garage. Maybe we could get one of those abandoned vehicles outside running. Kyle could probably fix one for us. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, probably thinking the same thing.
“Is one of you a mechanic?” Kyle asked.
“No,” Darrell responded. “The owner and two of his mechanics were killed.” His eyes grew serious. “They were friends of mine.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said.
Another woman entered the room from the kitchen, carrying a tray of sandwiches. From the size of her very swollen belly, it looked like she would be giving birth soon. “That’s my wife, Susan,” Darrell said. He got up, took the tray from her and ushered her to a seat. “Here, let me get that,” he said. “You don’t need to be on your feet so much.” It was cute watching such a big, somewhat intimidating looking man so thoughtfully doting on his wife.
“I’ve got to do something to keep busy,” Susan protested as she sat down.
“Yes, but if you keep on moving around, you’ll start having contractions again,” Darrell warned.
“They were just Braxton-Hicks contractions,” Susan said. “Nothing to worry about.”
Darrell set the tray he carried down at an empty table. “Have a seat,” he said, inviting us to take a sandwich. We sat down and ate. It was a tasty chicken salad with grapes and pecans in it. I couldn’t believe how good it was. But then, anything other than beans was good. Darrell sat down near us and waited patiently for us to finish. I could tell he had questions for us.
“Where did you come from?” he asked.
“We were in Stratford City,” I said. “We had been staying in a school building there, when we found Kyle.”
“We left to find the safe zone,” Kyle added.
“Tell me more about this safe zone,” Darrell said.
“Just before I lost communications with my unit,” he said, “Our orders were to pull out to a safe zone in the western part of the state. It was supposed to be outside the area that was contaminated by the gas cloud.”
“Gas cloud?” one of the women asked.
“You haven’t heard?” Jordan asked. There were blank looks around the tables. Obviously they didn’t know.
“There was an explosion at the army depot. They had biological weapons there. A gas cloud carrying a genetically engineered virus caused the infections,” Kyle explained.
Nobody spoke for a moment, apparently letting the meaning of Kyle’s words settle in. “I knew it!” an old man blurted out. “You can’t trust the government. This is all part of their plan to take over.”
“Settle down Mr. Jenkins,” Darrell said to him as he grabbed a newspaper and handed it to the old man. “Here, read today’s news.”
“Wait,” I said. “You have today’s newspaper?”
Darrell leaned closer to us and lowered his voice. “No. It’s an old paper, but old man Jenkins won’t know any different even though he’s read it every day. He’s not all there,” he winked.
Sure enough, the old man took the paper, stopped ranting, and started reading. I let out a snicker, and Jordan poked me in the side. I bit my lip and suppressed the urge to laugh out loud. It wouldn’t be polite, but it felt good to actually find something funny. It had been a long time since I felt like laughing. Sitting and talking with the people settled my nerves. Kyle and Jordan looked less stressed too.
“So,” Kyle said, looking at Darrell. “Is there a CB radio anywhere around here?”
Darrell scratched his face and thought for a minute. “There’s a broken down rig in the garage. It has one, but it won’t work. We tried it.”
“Let’s take a look at it,” Kyle said. “I’m handy with electronics. I might be able to get it working.”
“That would be great!” Jordan said.
Darrell took us through a rear door and into a hallway that went past some shower rooms and into the garage area. The garage was larger than a typical garage, as it was designed to accommodate tractor trailer trucks. Skylights overhead allowed enough daylight in to see well. There were four bays. Three were empty, and the fourth bay held the truck part of a semi.
“There she is,” Darrell said. “Have at it.”
Kyle climbed up, opened the door, and stepped into the cab. His head disappeared for a few minutes as he worked to free the radio from the dashboard. He climbed back out, holding the radio in his hand. “It didn’t work because the battery in the truck is dead,” he said. “I should be able to fix it though.”
“Are there any good batteries here?” he asked Darrell.
Darrell shook his head. “No, we tried them.”
Kyle carried the radio over to the long workbench that lined the back wall. He grabbed a Phillips head screwdriver and began loosening the screws that held the cover on the back of the radio. Shortly, he had the back off and was examining the circuitry inside. He looked around the workbench and then grabbed a drill that sat nearby. He began taking it apart.
“What are you doing?” I asked, curious.
“I’m going to take the power cord off this drill and wire it into the radio. We should be able to plug it into the wall outlet and get it going,” he said as he removed the cord from the tool. He began stripping the vinyl coating off the cord, exposing two thin twists of copper wire.
“Is that safe?” Jordan asked.
“Not really,” he said, “but it’s worth the risk.” He smiled mischievously.
He began searching through boxes of electrical equipment on the workbench and withdrew something.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“It’s a DC adapter,” he said, attaching the device to the radio. He took the cord and attached it to the adapter. “These outlets live?” he as
ked Darrell.
“Hang on a second,” Darrell said. He walked over to a metal box mounted on the wall. He opened the door. There were two rows of switches inside. He stood looking at them for a moment. Then, he flipped one. “Try it now,” he told Kyle.
Kyle plugged the cord into the wall, and I think we all held our breath when he flipped the power switch on the front of the radio. The sound of static filled the air and the channel indicator on the front of the radio lit up. Kyle pushed the scan button on the front, and numbers started flashing on the front as the radio searched for a signal. We watched with anticipation, but nothing happened. Kyle turned the dial, and a red number nine showed up on the panel. He picked up the microphone, pressed the key, and began to speak.
“Break 9. Break 9. Anyone monitoring this channel?”
We anxiously waited for a response that didn’t come. Undaunted, Kyle looked up. “This is the FCC designated emergency channel. We’ll try it every hour, and hopefully we’ll get a response.”
“Now what will we do?” Jordan asked skeptically. “What if no one answers?”
“Eventually we will get someone,” Kyle said confidently. “In the meanwhile, let’s get one of those cars in here to work on. Darrell, can you get a couple of guys to help us get a car in here?”
“Sure,” he said, “I’ll be right back.”
Kyle went with him. “I’ll get the gun,” he said.
Jordan and I continued working with the radio calling out for a response until Darrell and Kyle returned with three other men.
“There’s a Volvo station wagon right outside the door of the second bay,” Darrell said.
“Then that’s the one we want,” Kyle said. “Jordan, you open the door, and the rest of us will push the car inside. I’ll cover us with the gun.”
“I’m helping,” I told Kyle.
“We’ve got all the help we need, Casey,” he said. “Just stay here and help Jordan.”
“You know I’m not going to do that, don’t you?” I asked.
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “But I had to try.
I found a section of pipe on the floor and picked it up to use as a weapon. The men gathered around the door, and Jordan pushed the green button on the wall by the door. The door began to rise. The men looked around and then ran outside. They moved around the car. Kyle opened the driver side door and grabbed the steering wheel. With one hand on his gun and the other on the wheel, Kyle steered the station wagon toward the open door. The rest of the men pushed, and the car rolled forward. I went outside and got behind them, watching for zombies. They got the car inside, and we went in. Jordan pushed the red button on the wall, and the door closed.
“That was easy,” I said.
“You sound disappointed,” Jordan joked.
“Hey, I live for danger,” I quipped. Things were looking up, and I felt more at ease than I had in weeks.
“Do any of you know anything about this car?” Kyle asked.
The men shook their heads.
“Any of you have experience working on other kinds of cars?”
Again they shook their heads.
“Don’t you know how to work on cars?” I asked Kyle.
“Well, yeah,” he said. “But it never hurts to have a little help.”
The rest of the men went back down the hall, leaving me, Jordan, Darrell, and Kyle to work on the car. Well, actually leaving me, Jordan, and Darrell to watch Kyle working on the car. Kyle raised the hood. “It’s getting dark in here,” he said. The skylights overhead were now dark gray.
Darrell went to the workbench and picked up a shop light and extension cord. He plugged in the cord near the front of the car, and hooked up the shop light. He hung it from the grid work under the hood of the car and switched it on.
Kyle started examining the engine. I wandered back to the radio and tried to contact help on channel 9. As before, there was no response. Kyle joined me at the workbench and again started digging around through the boxes.
“Ah-ha!” he said. “This is exactly what I needed.” He picked up what looked like some kind of meter. He carried it over to the car, opened the driver side door and crouched down beside the front seat. He reached under the dashboard and plugged the meter in. He watched the meter intently. After a few seconds, he got up and started leaving through a large book back at the workbench. He grinned. “Unbelievable luck,” he said.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It only needs a tune-up,” he explained. “I can fix this tonight,” and we can get back on the road first thing in the morning.”
Jordan and I were elated. If we were less than a hundred miles from the safe zone, we would get there tomorrow. Then we could send help back to the truck stop and to the high school. It seemed too good to be true. In the safe zone, life would be normal again.
Kyle worked under the hood of the car for what felt like hours. Jordan, Darrell, and I stood around watching and making small talk. Eventually, Kyle got into the car and started it up. The engine sounded great. He turned it off, got out, and closed the hood. “All done,” he announced. We switched off the light and left the garage.
Back in the dining room, people were sitting and talking in the darkened room. Someone had lit a candle and placed it in the center of the room. It gave off a faint glow, but the light was bright enough to enable us to see our way across the room. Darrell took a seat beside his wife. Jordan, Kyle, and I sat near them. Outside, in the distance, we could hear the wailing beginning. Everyone continued talking. Some of the people seated around the various tables had begun playing cards. It was clear that everyone was doing the same thing – trying to ignore the sounds of the zombies. Darrell went over to the checkout counter and took another package of cards from a display. He brought them back to the table, opened them, and began shuffling them.
“Want to play Spades?” he asked, looking around at us.
“Why not?” Jordan answered.
“Count me in,” I said.
Kyle and Susan nodded in agreement, and Darrell started dealing out the cards.
“Before we start,” Kyle said glancing at his watch. “It’s time to check the radio again.”
“I’ll go,” I volunteered.
“I should go too,” Kyle insisted. “Just in case the military is monitoring the channel,” he explained.
“There’s a flashlight by the cash register,” Darrell said, pointing toward the counter.
I picked up the flashlight and switched it on as Kyle and I walked the hallway back to the garage. From inside the garage, the wailing seemed louder. It made me nervous.
Kyle picked up on my tension. “It’s just louder in here because there’s no insulation. There are only cinder block walls and a thin metal roof. It just lets the sound in.”
“Right,” I said. “Let’s just get this over with.”
We moved to the workbench and turned on the radio. Kyle picked up the microphone and pressed the key. “Break 9. Break 9. Anyone copy me?”
Suddenly, the static broke, and a woman’s voice came through the speakers. “Go ahead. You’ve got the Meadowview Trauma Center.”
The voice made my heart pound in my chest.
“What’s your emergency?” the voice asked.
“We have approximately twenty-five people sheltering in a truck stop at Exit 29 off Interstate-64,” Kyle said. “Please advise on the status of any rescue plans.”
“No rescue plans at this time,” the voice continued. “The trauma center is open, and we are seeing patients who can make it here.”
“What is the status of the virus outbreak?” Kyle asked, depressing the microphone key again.
“The virus is still active in the area. We’re seeing new cases daily.”
“Any treatment available yet?” I said to Kyle. “What are they doing about it?”
“Any word on a vaccine?” he asked.
 
; “We received notice from the army depot that they’re close to a vaccine, but we don’t know when it will be available to us,” the voice continued.
Suddenly, a muffled yell sounded from the direction of the dining room. “Go see what’s wrong,” Kyle said, handing me the flashlight.
I ran back to the dining room and found a group huddled around Susan, who was sitting in a chair. She grimaced in pain and yelled out again. I shined the light on her and saw that her pants were wet, and a pool of fluid was forming on the floor beneath her chair. A group of zombies was outside. They were throwing themselves at the glass walls, leaving slimy ooze streaming down the windows.
Darrell looked at me with fear in his eyes. “The baby is coming,” he said. “We’ve got to do something.”
“Just stay calm,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
I ran back to the garage where Kyle was still talking on the CB. “We’ve got a problem,” I told him. “Susan’s water just broke. She’s going into labor.”
“Stand by,” he said into the microphone. “We have a woman here about to give birth. I’ll be back on in a minute.”
“Will stand by,” the voice said.
Kyle and I ran back to the dining room, hearing Susan’s cries as we drew closer. Darrell was frantic when we got there.
“She’s bleeding now,” he shouted at us.
“How far is the Meadowview Trauma Center from here?” Kyle asked, looking around at the group gathered around. “It’s open.”
“Probably about ten miles,” one of the women answered.
“Can you tell us how to get there, Darrell?”
“Yes, I can,” he said.
“We can’t go out there at night,” Jordan said.
I gripped his shoulder and spoke into his ear. “Jordan, if she’s hemorrhaging, she could die. We’ve got to get her to the trauma center.”
Jordan looked apprehensively at the zombies pounding the glass walls. The windows shook with each impact.
“Get Susan into the station wagon,” Kyle instructed. “I’m going to get the radio.” He ran back to the garage while Darrell and I helped Susan to her feet. Even in the candle light, I could see that she was turning pale.
One of the women came running up to us, holding a stack of towels. “We’ve been saving these for an emergency,” she said.
“Take the towels,” Jordan, “I told him.” He was still watching the zombies.
“I don’t like this,” he said.
“Come on,” I said. “Don’t lose your nerve.”
We carefully walked Susan down the hallway to the garage, followed by a small group. With one arm, I supported Susan. In the other, I held the flashlight so we could see our way down the hall. In the garage, Jordan was working fast, installing the CB in the station wagon, using the shop light to see. “She can lie down in the back,” I said. Jordan opened the back of the car. Darrell and I helped Susan into the back where she laid down. She was breathing heavy. Kyle finished installing the radio and retrieved his gun that he’d left standing against the wall. Darrell climbed into the back with his wife. Jordan handed him the towels. I carefully closed the rear door of the car behind them.
“Casey and Jordan,” Kyle said urgently, “Go get my backpack with the ammunition and some food and water.”
We dashed back to the dining room and returned with the bags. We tossed them into the back seat. Jordan got into the back, and we closed the doors. I got into the front passenger seat and switched off the flashlight while Kyle explained how to operate the mechanical garage door to the group that followed us to the garage.
“Push the green button,” he told them. “I’m going to drive through fast when the door is high enough. After we’re through the door, immediately hit the red button to bring it back down. You’ve got to do it fast before the zombies see what we’re doing.” A man nodded and moved toward the door controls. Kyle reached down to the floor and picked up the length of pipe I used earlier and handed it to one of the women. A man in the group picked up a crowbar. “The rest of you get back into the dining room and close the door.” They did as they were told. Kyle handed a wrench to the man at the door controls. “If anything tries to get in, kill it!” he said. “I’m going to take out this sensor so it wouldn’t stop the door from coming back down if the zombies tried to get in.” He slammed his boot down onto the sensor, knocking it loose from its bracket. He removed the shop light from the front seat and handed it to the man with the crowbar.
Kyle got into the driver’s seat and started the car. He signaled to the man at the controls, who hit the green button. The door began to rise. At first, I saw nothing but blackness as the door opened. When the door was high enough, Kyle pulled forward. Suddenly the car began to rock as a group of zombies charged at the front. We weren’t yet completely out of the garage. Kyle floored the accelerator, and the car lunged forward. Some of the zombies fell under the wheels, making the car bounce as it rolled over their bodies. As the car cleared the doorway, I looked back and saw one zombie crawl under the door. Several others were smashed by the door as it came down on them.
“One got in,” I said.
“It will be okay,” Kyle said. “They’re ready for it inside.”
For their sake, I hoped he was right. Susan yelled out in pain from the back of the Volvo. Darrell shouted for Kyle to take a right out of the parking lot and then to follow the road signs to the hospital. We drove through the concourse, picking up speed. A zombie was hanging onto the side of the car. Kyle steered close to a sign post and scraped the disgusting creature off. He made a hard right turn out of the lot, and we headed into the night.