Human Extinction Level Loss (Book 1): Nicole's Odyssey (20 page)

On the field, Walt sat behind the wheel of the bus looking in his mirrors for the first sign of Paul and Billy. He revved the engine to keep it hot.  Jordan looked out the back window for her father. In the GTO, Nicole did the same. Jordan pressed her face against the rear window of the bus.  Several seconds passed. 

“I see them!” she shouted as she caught sight of the cart nosing out of the field entrance. 

“Why aren’t they coming?!” she cried as she watched the cart slip and slide up the ramp. 

On the cart, Billy continued to hop up and down.  With each bounce the wheels would catch, sending the cart lurching forward.   As it reached the top, a final bounce from Billy got the traction they needed and the cart shot out of the entrance and hit the field.  Paul shouted and for the first time noticed he was still pressing the button on the air horn.  He tossed it away as he sped toward the waiting bus.

Paul and Billy jumped from the cart and climbed aboard the bus. 

“Yeah, Man!” Walt shouted as he worked the lever and closed the sliding doors. 

The GTO shot forward and sped out through the open doors.  It hit the remains of the Dead and the car’s tires immediately lost traction.  It spun a rooster tail of gore behind it as its tires spun, the forward momentum alone sending the big car sliding out of control onto dry pavement.  When the tires got traction, Nicole spun the wheel and came to a screeching stop.  Nicole jumped from the car and ran to the doors.  The bus was not so fortunate.  Without significant forward momentum from a fast acceleration it came to a stop in the middle of the sea of dismemberment.  The bus’s tires spun, making a shrieking noise.  Nicole unslung her gun and went to the rear of the bus which was under the door and still inside the stadium.   Sam  came up behind her, his rifle at the ready.  Several of the Dead had caught their trail and had come up the ramp.  Nicole and Sam began to fire, dropping them on the field.

“Get that bus moving!” she shouted as more of the Dead began to emerge onto the field and come towards them. 

Inside Walt stomped the gas and raced the engine to no avail.  Paul hugged his daughter and looked from Walt to Nicole and Sam out the window.  He saw more of the Dead hit the field and Nicole and Sam losing ground to them. Paul sat Jordan down and grabbed a rifle. 

“I’ve got to help them, baby girl.  I’ll be right back,” he told her.  Jordan screamed and reached for her father as Paul ran down the aisle and off the bus.  Billy held Jordan’s hand as she cried. 

Paul joined Nicole and Sam as they fired on the increasing number of Dead that were pouring out onto the field. 

“I’m out!” Nicole shouted as she whipped the rifle onto her back and pulled a pistol. 

Sam covered her as she readied her aim.  Inside the bus, Billy listened to the tires spin, heard Jordan crying, and the guns firing.  His eyes lit up as he realized what needed to happen.  He pulled Jordan after him to the rear of the bus.  Their added weight dropped the rear of the bus a little and the sound of the tires dropped an octave and moved forward several inches. 

Outside, Paul, Sam and Nicole did not notice as they continued to shoot.  Billy banged on the glass and tried to get their attention but they were not turning around.  Billy looked to the front of the bus and shouted at Walt.  “Honk your horn, Walt!” 

Walt looked in his mirror and saw Billy gesturing to him.  He began to lay on the horn. 

Outside, Nicole heard the horn and turned.  She looked up as she saw Billy and Jordan gesturing to the rear of the bus.  It took a second for her to realize what they meant.  She turned to Paul. 

“Jump on the rear of the bus!” 

Paul looked to her, then the rear of the bus.  He slung his rifle and grabbed the door handle and tried to haul himself up. 

“Help him, Sam!” Nicole shouted as she holstered her spent pistol and drew her last one. 

“What about you?!” Sam asked.

Nicole did not respond as she picked her marks.  Sam ran up and grabbed Paul’s foot, pushing him up onto the bumper before climbing aboard himself.  As they held on, the rear of the bus dropped.  The screaming from the tires fell silent as they got traction and the bus lumbered out of the stadium and came to a stop by the GTO. 

Walt came running out with a rifle on his back and another in his hand.  He stood beside Nicole and Sam and joined their firing squad.  Paul rushed past them into the stadium.  The Dead caught his scent and made for him, but Nicole, Sam, and Walt cut them down.  Paul entered the code to close the doors and then raced outside.  He grabbed the extra rifle from Walt and they all began to fire on the groups of the Dead still pouring out onto the field.  The doors lowered and Nicole, Sam, Paul, and Walt had to stop firing.  Fifteen of the Dead raced towards them.  They slammed into the massive doors as it hit the ground and came to a stop.  From the inside, the Dead clawed and tried to tear their way out. 

Nicole and Sam shouted then slapped hands, as Walt and Paul clasped each other in a hug and almost cried in relief.  Jordan came running out.  Paul turned and saw her just as she fell into his arms.  Billy came skating up.  The group welcomed him into their embrace as they all shouted and cried. 

Nicole took a spraycan of yellow caution paint from a cargo pocket and walked up to the massive doors.  As the Dead pounded trying to reach her, she painted a large skull, like on the signs posted outside of the city.  She backed away and looked at it. 

“A warning to others…” she said. 

Walt looked across the street.  “You know, now that the Dead are all in there and we are out here, we could probably do our shopping in peace, man,” he said. 

Everyone smiled. 

“Good idea, Walt.  I could use a smoothie about now,” Nicole said.

“Alright, man,” Walt said as they all turned and crossed the street, heading for the All-Mart.  As they made their way over, a look of shock came over Jordan’s face. 

“Oh no!  I left my MP3 player inside and it had my song on it!” 

Paul looked at her, his relief at maybe never having to hear the song again giving way to his fatherly instincts. 

“It’s okay, baby. Maybe they have a copy inside the All-Mart,” he said. 

Jordan’s face brightened just a bit, as she joined her father and followed the others inside.

Twenty-Eight

Nicole sat in the passenger seat of her GTO.  She extended her right arm out of the window and felt the wind whip past her, caressing her arm.  The breeze was warm on her face and it tickled its way through her hair. 

She felt relaxed, confident, hopeful.  They had raided the All-Mart and were well supplied for a while.  She let herself enjoy the ride.

Next to her, driving, was Sam.  Back at the All-Mart, when Nicole told him he could drive, he had searched the shelves in the automotive section for a pair of fingerless driving gloves.  Not finding any, he got a pair from the garden center and cut off the fingers.  He wore them as he held the wheel and stared out down the road.  The big engine purred and Sam dreamed of leather clad apocalyptic warriors cruising across the barren land. 

Nicole looked over at the speedometer.  Sam was inching up past eighty. 

“Alright, Max.  Ease up there.  I doubt Walt’s bus can keep up,” she said. 

Sam awoke from his daydream and looked down at the speedometer.  “Sorry… sorry,” he offered. 

He looked in the rear view and saw that the bus was a pin prick in the mirror.  Its headlights flashed on and off as Walt tried to get Sam’s attention. 

“Shit, sorry,” he said again, slowing the big car down.

☣

As the sun began to set, they came up on an exit that had a campground.  Nicole looked over at Sam. 

“We should stop for the night.  Turn in here,” she said. 

Sam nodded and headed for the exit ramp.  Nicole leaned out her window and signaled Walt.  He flashed his lights in understanding and followed.

They cruised through the campground.  There were several campers and motor-homes parked on concrete pads.  Many were still connected to water and electric.  They parked their vehicles in the circle in front of the office, side by side with the front of their vehicles pointed out toward the exit.  Everyone got out and stretched. 

“This seems a good a place as any to stop, I figure.  We need to walk the camp, though.  We don’t want any surprises.  No splitting up.  We encounter any Dead, close in, shoulder to shoulder in a circle with your back to the inside, okay?  We don’t get caught unawares, and we don’t get separated,” she said. 

Nicole reached in the GTO and retrieved a satchel with a long strap. 

“Jordan, until we get you qualified on the rifle and pistol, you’re our reloader, okay?” Nicole said. 

She handed Jordan the satchel, three boxes of ammo, and three full magazines. 

“You’ll stand in the center of the circle.  Dump those extra rounds in the satchel and reload the empties we hand you, got it?” Nicole asked. 

Jordan  nodded as she slung the satchel over her shoulder. 

“Good girl.  Okay, let's check it out,” Nicole said. 

With their rifles at the ready, they moved out through the campground.

An hour later, they had swept through the entire campground and found it was completely abandoned.  They returned to their vehicles and began to unpack for the night.  Nicole looked at the circular driveway in front of the office.  The center of the circle was grass. 

“Rather than get too far from the vehicles, I think we should just stay right here.  I know we cleared the grounds, but if we have to leave, we don’t want to have to run too far, you know?” Nicole said. 

Everyone agreed and began to set up in the grassy circle. 

With full stomachs they reclined around the circle.  Jordan had begged for a campfire and it had finally been agreed that a small fire would not attract too much attention, shielded as it was by their bodies and the parked vehicles.  The tiny flame cast its warm glow across contented faces.  With the relaxed feeling of satiated hunger and the hypnotic dancing flames licking through kindling, they all were lost in their own thoughts. 

Walt rose without saying a word and went to his bus.  All eyes turned to him but did not question where he was going.  A minute later, he returned and took his seat again by the fire.  In his hands was a guitar. 

“I didn’t know you played, Walt,” Sam said. 

“Oh yeah, man.  I taught myself, you know,” Walt said. 

Everyone looked at Walt and remained silent as he readied himself.  Walt plucked the strings and tuned the guitar for a while.  When he got it where he wanted it, he cleared his throat. 

“Today was a good day for us.  We got out of that place, got us some supplies.  We got us a place to go and we got each other, man,” he said. 

Walt looked around at the group, his goofy smile was contagious and they all smiled back. 

“Times are tough, but today was a good day.  I want to play a song, man.   It’s called Buckets of Rain.” he said.

Walt began to play.  The music was soft and low and had a soothing rhythm.  The words told  of the troubles that can come into a life, the blessings too.  He sang of the joy that two people in love can share and the little things about each that can make them love each other more.  He sang of the preciousness of life and loss, and the simple truths of companionship, doing what must be done when the time came.  As his fingers danced across the strings, the others bobbed their heads and stared into the fire.  Not forgotten was the death and ruin all around, but the words comforted them with the assurance of hope and love within every storm. 

Billy and Jordan looked at each other. In the gathering dark, broken only by the light of the fire playing across their faces, Billy quietly slipped his hand into Jordan’s.  He smiled deep within himself when he felt her squeeze his hand gently in return.  They smiled at each other, then were lost again in the fire as Walt softly finished. 

The final notes seemed to hang in the air for a moment before drifting off on the cool evening breeze.  Walt cradled the guitar and nodded, smiling. 

“That was beautiful, Walt.  Did you write that?” Paul asked. 

Walt shook his head.  “Naw, man.  That’s by a group I heard of once called Redbird.  I just thought it was real pretty, you know, so I learned how to play it,” he said. 

There was more silence, no one wanting to break the veil of the peaceful revere with words.  Finally, Nicole looked around at the group. 

“Well, I hate to be a buzz kill, but we’ve got another long day of driving ahead of us tomorrow,” she said. 

Everyone began to stretch, suddenly remembering how tired they each were. 

“I’ll take first watch,” Paul said. 

Nicole nodded.  “I got second. Walt, you then Sam, yeah?” she said. 

“Sure thing, Man,” Walt said. 

Paul climbed up on the top of the bus with a rifle and a flashlight.  Everyone else crawled into sleeping bags around the fire.  As Billy scrunched down, Jordan came over and whispered in his ear. 

“After my dad goes to sleep, meet me behind the office and we’ll make out.”

Before Billy could answer she was away to her own sleeping bag.  Billy scrunched down into his.  All thoughts of sleep now gone.

Twenty-Nine

When he saw him get on the bus and ride away with the others, Dermot Mullney thought he had lost his Billy for good.  He had vowed to get him back, and had convinced himself he would.  Still there was that part of Dermot that was his own worst enemy.  That part of him that berated him, made fun of him, and told him he was after all nothing more than a sick, disgusting pedophile, rapist, serial killer, who was not worthy of the love that Dermot Mullney so desired.  Dermot thought that voice was pernicious.  It egged him on, practically begged him to do the things he did, only to chastise, ridicule and condemn him afterwards.