Voodoo Plague - 01 (10 page)

Clicking the
safety off on the pistol I quietly turned the door knob and eased the door
open.  All was quiet, or at least any sounds within the house were masked by
the raging storm outside.  As the door swung open I paid attention to Dog,
trusting him to be an early warning if the house was inhabited.

Dog just stood
quietly at the open door, nose twitching.  I stepped into the hallway and Dog
stayed by my side.  Rachel brought up the rear, padding silently in her bare
feet.  We quickly checked the entire house and found it empty.  With that out
of the way I made sure all the doors were securely locked and all the windows
were covered.  I didn’t want any visitors.

The house looked
like it had been home to a couple.  There were three bedrooms, two of them
musty smelling and being used for storage.  The master was a shambles with
drawers pulled out of the dressers and left lying on the floor amidst heaps of
clothing.  It looked like someone had packed and left in a hurry.

The kitchen was
small and not particularly clean, but the cupboard was well stocked with canned
foods.  The range was gas burning and I was happy to hear the hiss of natural
gas when I turned the knob.  The gas didn’t ignite because the range used an
electric starter and the power was off, but a simple match would solve that
problem and we’d have a hot meal.

Rachel checked
the water and it was still on, and it even got hot as she let it run.  Must be
a gas hot water heater with a pilot light. 

“First shower!”
She grinned across the room at me.

I grinned back. 
“I’ll make dinner while you clean up.  Keep your pistol close and leave the
bathroom door open.  If you hear me shout…”

“Got it,” She
answered, still smiling.  Apparently not even the end of the world could dampen
her spirits when a hot shower was available.  Rachel went down the hall to the
bathroom and moments later I heard the shower start up.

The storm still
raged outside as I started pulling cans out of the pantry.  A large can of
chunky beef stew went into a bowl on the floor and Dog devoured it in less than
a minute, licked the bowl spotlessly clean and went over and laid down in the
corner with a contented sigh.

I found a large
skillet and after getting the stove top lit put it on the burner and started
adding the contents of several cans.  I wouldn’t win any culinary awards, but
as I added two cans of Spam, a can of baked beans and another of corn I thought
the aroma coming from the skillet was one of the best I’d ever smelled.

Giving
everything a stir I searched some more cabinets and found a couple loaves of
sourdough bread.  Cutting the tops off each loaf I hollowed out the insides and
put each on a plate, the bread from inside the loaves on the side.  Each one
made a perfect bread bowl.

The shower had
been off for a few minutes and I was about to go looking for Rachel when she
walked into the kitchen.

“That smells
fantastic,” She said, coming over to the stove to look in the skillet.  Rachel
had found clean clothes in the master bedroom closet that almost fit.  She had
on a pair of cotton shorts that were short enough to not leave much to the
imagination and a thin T Shirt that was stretched almost impossibly tight over
her breasts.

“And it’s
ready.  Hope you’re hungry,” I answered, trying to keep my eyes from drifting
to the hard nipples stressing the thin fabric of the shirt or the long legs
left bare by the short shorts.

I scooped
generous portions of the skillet contents, I didn’t even have a name for it,
into the bread bowls and carried them to the table while Rachel found water
glasses and filled them at the sink for us.  A quick search of drawers yielded
a couple of spoons and we settled down at the table.

The kitchen was almost
dark due to the heavy clouds outside and the closed blinds at all the windows,
but I didn’t care to show a light that might be seen by either survivors or
infected.  We both dug in, too hungry to spend any time talking.  From across
the room Dog watched us, his chin on his front paws.  When my food was half
gone I was able to slow myself down and enjoy eating the meal.

“So I was
thinking about why those infected showed up at the park when we stopped this
afternoon,” I said, then shoveled another spoonful into my mouth.

Rachel paused
with a spoon half way to her mouth and looked at me with raised eyebrows.  I
chewed, swallowed and continued.

“I think it was
the sound of the truck idling.  I think mechanical sounds are going to draw
these things like a moth to a flame.  I’ve got to find a switch I can wire into
the truck so we can shut it off and start it easily when we stop.”

“How many of
them do you think are out there?” Rachel asked, getting up to refill our water.

I thought for a
minute before answering, “I don’t have a clue.  So far we’ve seen far more
infected than we have survivors.  I’m shocked the nerve gas was so effective
and spread so fast.  Based on what we’ve seen so far it seems like most of the
population has been infected.”

That thought hit
both of us like a slap in the face.  Suddenly my food didn’t taste good anymore
and I put the remains on the floor for Dog who gladly polished it off for me. 
When he was done I picked the plate up and washed it in the sink.  Not that it
mattered, but old habits die hard.

I made another
tour of the house, checking windows and doors to make sure we were secure.  The
worst of the storm had passed, but it was still raining and now completely dark
outside.  I put a piece of duct tape over my flashlight lens and poked a small
hole in it so only a tiny beam of light could make it out.

Using the muted
flashlight I carefully covered the master bedroom windows with blankets, taping
the edges to the wall with more duct tape to prevent any light from escaping. 
The battery powered LED lantern I had looted had a night light setting and I
turned it on in the bedroom for Rachel then went to the living room and covered
those windows as well, taping the blankets as I had in the master bedroom.  I’d
be sleeping on the couch tonight.  There was only one bed in the house and I’d
already decided to give it to Rachel.

Next I retrieved
a 12 gauge shotgun I’d found in the outfitter store vault and showed Rachel how
to load it, rack the slide and where the safety button was.  After having her
rack a few shells through the gun and reload it she was about as familiar with
a shotgun as she was going to be until we were somewhere safe that I could
teach her how to aim, control and fire the weapon.

I showered with
my pistol in the shower with me, safe inside a plastic zip sandwich bag I’d
found in the kitchen.  The hot water felt wonderful and released a lot of the
tension I was carrying in my shoulders and upper back.

Dried off I
dressed in the khaki camouflage cargo pants I’d found at the outfitter and a
matching camo T-Shirt.  I tried on the steel toed hunting boots, which fit
well, and left them sitting open and ready at the edge of the couch.

With a fully
loaded assault rifle on the floor next to me and a loaded pistol in my waist band
I laid back on the couch.  I closed my eyes but the voice of a long gone
instructor popped into my head, ‘Check everything, check it again, then check
to make sure you checked it right, numb nuts.’

I smiled at the
memory of Sergeant Willis, swung my feet to the floor and made another round of
the house with Dog padding along at my side.  All the doors and windows were
locked tight.  The blankets in the bedroom were still tightly covering the
window and Rachel was breathing heavily as she slept, cocooned in a light
blanket with only her face exposed.

I turned off the
lantern’s night light to save the batteries and headed back to the living room,
feeling my way in the dark.  Passing one of the other bedrooms I stepped in and
up to the window that looked to the street in front of the house.  Carefully
moving the curtains an inch open I looked out at the rain soaked front yard.

The clouds were
breaking up and a small amount of moonlight lit the street.  I stood there
watching for a few minutes, but nothing moved.  I was about to close the gap in
the curtains and go to bed when movement across the street caught my eye.  My
pulse picked up until I identified the fat raccoon that waddled into view.  He
stopped and sniffed the air then slowly made his way up the street.  I closed
the curtains tight and went to bed.

I snapped awake
when Dog growled deep in his chest, my hand automatically grasping the butt of
the pistol in my waist band.  I drew the weapon and swung my feet to the floor
silently, watching Dog to try and figure out what had him agitated.  He was
staring intently at the front window of the living room.  I couldn’t hear
anything, and didn’t have any idea what time it was other than early as it was
still dark.

I stood up
carefully and made my way to the bedroom next to the living room, eased my way
up to the curtains and a millimeter at a time opened them enough to see out the
window.  All the clouds had moved out and there was enough moonlight for me to
see what must have been hundreds of infected stumbling down the street, all
headed to the north.

They filled the
street, flowing around abandoned cars and spilling up onto the lawns of the
houses that lined the road.  Both males and females moved together, the females
appearing much more coordinated in their movements.  Occasionally children
could be seen in the crowd, and just like the adults the males were slow and
uncoordinated, but the females moved with almost animal-like fluidity and grace.

I closed the
curtains as slowly and carefully as I had opened them and quietly backed away
from the window.  Deciding it was best to wake Rachel in case we were
discovered I made my way out to the hall and down to the master bedroom where
she was sleeping.

She hadn’t moved
since I’d done my last check of the house before going to sleep, still wrapped
up in the blanket and snoring softly.  I knelt onto one knee, leaned over her
and put a hand over her mouth to prevent her from crying out in case I startled
her.

Her eyes
instantly flew open wide with panic and she started struggling.  I wrapped my
other arm around her, using the blanket to help control her movements and put
my lips against her ear.

“It’s OK, it’s
me.  There’s infected outside.  We can’t make any noise,” I whispered in her
ear.

She stopped
struggling but her body remained tense.  Slowly I released her then removed my
hand from her mouth, ready to clamp it back in place if she started to speak. 
When it was obvious she was under control I stepped back and she sat up and
shed the blanket.  I motioned for her to follow me, using my taped flashlight
to give her enough light to see.

Rachel stood up,
crossed her arms across her breasts and followed me to the other bedroom. 
Again I very cautiously opened the curtains enough to look out and was dismayed
to see that the number of infected had grown.  Just a few minutes before what
had been a steady stream had now grown to a tightly packed mass of human bodies
flooding through the neighborhood.

I moved aside
and Rachel looked out the opening.  She caught her breath but made no other
sound.  After a moment she moved back and I carefully put the curtains back in
place.  Fumbling in the dark I reached out for her, felt her arm and followed
it down until I took her hand in mine.  I led her through the darkened house
out to the living room where Dog still stared at the front windows with his
ears at full alert.

Pulling Rachel
to me I put my lips back to her ear and whispered, “Let’s get dressed and ready
to move, just in case.  I got hunting clothes and boots for you from the
outfitter.  I’m going to turn my flashlight on so we can see.  Don’t make a
sound.”

Rachel nodded
and I didn’t so much see it as feel her hair move against my face.  I turned on
the flashlight and aimed the beam at the floor.  The light seemed brilliant
after the tomb-like darkness, but I kept the beam on the dark colored carpet
which absorbed much of the light and didn’t create any reflections.

I pointed at the
duffel bag next to the coffee table and Rachel slowly dug through it until she
found pants, shirt, socks and the pair of boots I’d guessed at on size.  She
held the clothes up to herself and nodded when they looked like a pretty good
fit.  I was surprised when she didn’t hesitate to strip naked right there in
front of me, then remembered her state of dress when I’d found her.

A few minutes
later she was dressed in the new clothes and both of us had our boots on.  I
retied her boot laces for her, showing her how to knot them so they didn’t come
lose and let you lose a boot at an inconvenient time. 

I dug through
the other duffel and pulled out canvas web belts and holsters.  Handing one to
Rachel I put the other one on and holstered my pistol on my right hip.  Rachel
watched what I did and copied me.  Next came tactical equipment vests for each
of us.

Sitting down on
the couch I motioned Rachel to sit next to me.  I then spread the blanket I’d
used for sleeping on the coffee table and placed the case of 30 round AR
magazines on the blanket.  From the duffel bag full of ammo I retrieved several
cases of 5.56 mm and sat them on the table as well.

Indicating for
Rachel to watch me I took a magazine and carefully and quietly started loading
it.  After a bit Rachel picked one up and helped.  As each magazine was loaded
I found a pouch for it on my vest until I was completely full, then started
filling up Rachel’s vest.  When we were done each of us was carrying 15
magazines for a total of 450 rounds each. 

Finding and
filling the spare magazines for my .45 and Rachel’s 9 MM pistols gave each of
us another 100 rounds of spare pistol ammunition on our bodies.  I had Rachel
stand up slowly and I adjusted the vest for her so it fit well enough to not
rattle when she moved.  Anything that wouldn’t adjust got duct taped and
silenced.

Finally I slung
one of the M4 rifles over her head and adjusted the sling for a good fit for
her size.  With hand gestures and whispered explanations I showed her how to
insert a magazine, charge the weapon, turn it off and on safe, change magazines
and aim.  In response to my whispered question of whether she’d ever fired an
AR before she shook her head ‘No’.

I rummaged to
the bottom of another duffel and pulled out two backpacks that had built in
water bladders and drinking tubes.  Showing these to Rachel I mimed that I
wanted her to take them to the kitchen and fill the bladders with water.  I
wanted to check on the infected while she did that.

Moving slowly so
as not to bang into anything and make a sound I crept up to the bedroom window
and peeked through the curtains.  The sky was lightening up and visibility had
improved greatly, but I didn’t need the extra light to see that there was still
a sea of infected moving up the street. 

I couldn’t even
hazard a guess as to how many there were.  They were moving so slow and were
packed so tightly together that I had to concentrate to pick out individuals. 
Closing the curtains I went back to the living room where Rachel was carefully
placing the backpacks on the coffee table.

We spent some
time distributing spare clothing and food into the back packs.  I put all of
the remaining 300 rounds of 9 mm ammo in Rachel’s, loading mine up with .45 and
5.56.  I debated shotgun ammo, but decided to stick with the AR rather than the
12 gauge.  If we lost the truck, we’d lose the shotgun with it.

Preparations
made we settled onto the couch.  I had a map and my flashlight and Rachel
scooted next to me to get a look.  I traced my finger across the map following
I-575 until I came to the interchange where we’d turned around yesterday. 
Tracing backwards I spotted where I thought we were, or at least the right
neighborhood.

A few minutes of
searching found an overpass that crossed I-575 a few miles to the northwest of
us.  This looked on the map to just be a bridge over the interstate without any
entrance or exit ramps.  My assumption was that this would not be jammed up by
people fleeing the city.

I memorized as
much of the route as I could and worked on mapping our way further west.  A
large lake lay west of 575 that we would have to make our way around, then we’d
have to deal with I-75 which ran up to Tennessee to the north and back to
downtown Atlanta to the south.  I expected 75 to be completely impassable.

Looking for a
route around the lake I didn’t like our options.  Going south to skirt the
water would take us a good distance back toward Atlanta, but if we went north
and around it looked like there was only one small highway that cut through
some rugged country.

I whispered my
concerns into Rachel’s ear and traced the routes on the map with my finger to
demonstrate.  She peered intently at the map for a few minutes then using her
index finger traced a route due north from our location up into the north
Georgia hills.  We’d still have to cross 575 but the route she was proposing
would take us through some sparsely populated areas.

I nodded my
agreement, irritated with myself that I was so focused on westerly travel that
I had overlooked the obvious.  I was concerned for my wife and all I wanted to
do was to get to Arizona and make sure she was safe.  She’s tough as nails and
probably smarter than I am, but there’s a reason men ruled the world until very
recent history and the world was quickly devolving back to that mode.  At least
she was well armed and knew how to shoot.

Putting Katie
out of my mind, as much as I could, I spent some time studying the map and
fixing roads and travel directions in my head.  Not that Rachel couldn’t read
the map for me while I was driving, but it was always better to have an idea of
which way we were going and how we were going to get there.

I looked up when
Rachel lightly touched my arm and followed her gaze to where Dog was laying in
the middle of the living room floor.  He had been alert and tense from the
moment he had wakened me, eyes fixed on the front windows, but now he was lying
down and even though his ears were straight up his eyes were closed. 

I watched him
for a minute then looked at Rachel and motioned to the bedroom.  She followed
me and we peeked out the curtained windows at what looked like was going to be
a crystal clear day.  What made it even better was that no infected were in
sight.

Mailboxes were
broken over, bushes and lawns trampled into mud, smears of something I assumed
was blood were on all the parked cars, but that was the only sign of the
infected.  I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and heard
Rachel do the same.

“What the hell
was that?” She asked in a very quiet voice.

“I don’t know. 
At first I thought maybe they’d heard something in that direction, but I think
the females would have been out in front of the pack if that was the case.”

We stood looking
out the window for a few more moments until I carefully put the curtains back
in place.

“The bad thing
is they were all heading the same direction we just decided to go and I don’t
think we’d survive an encounter with a group that large.  Even in the truck. 
They could batter their way in or even turn us over if they have any ability to
work together.”

Rachel stared
back at me and I could see in her eyes that she didn’t know what to say to
that.

“Maybe we should
go back to the westerly route and find a way around the lake,” I suggested.

She was
thoughtful for a moment then nodded her head slowly as if in partial
agreement.  “We don’t seem to have much choice.  The last thing I want is to
run into that crowd, or any others for that matter.”

The street we
were on ran roughly southwest to northeast and if I was looking at the correct
street on the map it continued to curve north of us until it was an eastbound
road.  Assuming the crowd- herd??- followed the path of least resistance the
road would take them away from our immediate direction of travel.  Not far
enough that I was comfortable going due north, but it looked like we could make
our way northwest then over the 575.

After getting
across the interstate I decided we would take the route around the north end of
the lake.  That way looked much less populated and I was nervous about getting
cornered and overwhelmed by a mass of infected. 

Rachel leaned
back on the couch, breathed deeply then let out a long, slow sigh.  “How long
can this last?” She asked.

I looked away
from the map, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how
long can this last?  The infected people.  Humans can’t go long without water. 
A couple of weeks maybe without food, but no more than three days without water
when they’re out there wandering around all day in the heat.”

“They’re probably
drinking and eating, but I can’t imagine what they’re eating.  Well, at least
the males.  They don’t seem coordinated enough to scavenge for food.  The
females seem quite capable.”

Rachel continued
to stare straight ahead at a dark plasma TV screen.  “I’m trying to wrap my
head around this.  I can certainly understand bio toxins, even bacterial or
viral infections that would cause hyper-aggression, but any I’m aware of burn
the host out in a few hours to a day.  There’s not any sign so far of that happening
here.”

“That you’re
aware of.”

Rachel looked at
me and smiled a sad smile, “What I mean is, you’d think there was hope that the
infected people would have already started dying off.  But we’ve not seen any
sign of that.  The scary thought here is that everyone that is infected – and
I’m not sure that’s an entirely accurate term – is finding water and food and
will continue to remain a threat to the rest of us.

“I’m also
confused about the crowd or herd behavior we just saw.  That’s not consistent with
any disease or toxin I can think of that would cause the aggressive behavior. 
These people should be just as aggressive towards each other as they are
towards us.”  She turned her head and looked me in the eye.

“I understand
what you’re saying, but does it matter?”