Plague: Death was only the beginning! (15 page)

“Who now will pay the blood price that the Devil demands.”

-Thoughts from the Author

Chapter 46

Marsha watched as the snow continued to fall. She had just been outside brushing off the snow from the solar panels. She had looked around in case there had been fallen trees and branches that had to be removed before the weather turned bad again. One large tree had actually crashed onto the road in front of the house, but it hadn’t been in the direction that they used to get to town, so she just brushed it off for now. However, there was one tree leaning over her greenhouse, and she wasn’t sure if it could still fall down or not. Even worse, the tree was so big that she couldn’t safely handle trying to cut it down all by herself. While the winds were calm, she removed the water pumps, tubing, and other essentials that would be needed in the spring. Sharon came out soon after and helped her place all of the equipment into the garage. They took turns shoveling the snow from the driveway and front walk. If they needed to leave, they didn’t want to be trapped by the heavy snowfall. This way, the worst of it was already removed.

Stopping to take a deep breath, Sharon waved to Simon through the front door. He had been left inside to work on a puzzle they had found for him in the attic. It was a scene of fish swimming against a background of blue water. It was a pretty picture George had given Marsha ten years before to help pass the time. Now it helped Simon do the same.

Across the country, Mike was still on the road in an effort to get home. He had survived another night by finding another storefront and locking himself in. Even so, he had been scared to death as the bats swarmed about the door trying to get to him. Only later as the sun broke over the countryside had he been able to get on the road again. Now, he pedaled the bike as hard as he could to get up a steep hill. The trailer he had found yesterday was dragging him down, but he needed the water and supplies that he had found at the same Wal-Mart as the trailer. This part of the country had been picked pretty clean, and he struggled to find fresh water and canned goods. Even as he pedaled, he had thoughts of beef stew and hot coffee running through his mind.

Cresting the hill, he looked over the land below him and smiled. A long sloping stretch of road lay before him. He pictured himself with his feet up on the handlebars as the trailer pushed him down the hill. It was the little things that made life great. A long period of cruising might just be one of them.

Two hours later, he was struggling to push the bike and trailer up a very steep hill. He wondered if he should just drop the extra weight and move on. Just looking around, he should be able to find some more somewhere up ahead. The map had shown him that Springfield was just ahead, and he should be able to hit some of the shops and houses to find more. But in the end, he just pushed the bike and finally crested the hill. This time, the view wasn’t so good. The road ahead was completely blocked by a major crash that covered all four lanes and seemed to go on for miles in both directions.

Stopping, he pulled out his map and looked for another way to go east. Maybe he could go across country and find another bike, or even a car, later. This was taking too long. After reaching the wreck site, he did just that. The bike and trailer were soon behind him as he placed one foot in front of the other. The pack was killing him, but he refused to give up his can of beef stew and his coffee.

The sun was going down before he found a metal storage shed that seemed strong enough to keep out the bats. After clearing out some of the junk, he had a place to roll out his sleeping bag and have a small cook fire. Using a famous GI P-38 can opener, he cracked the top of the can of stew and placed the whole can over his small rocket stove. Using gloves, he manhandled the lid so that he could stir the thick gravy and potatoes without spilling it. After it was hot and bubbling, he placed it on the ground and held up a metal canteen cup to the flames to heat up the water for his coffee. Soon he was shoveling stew into his mouth and sipping coffee as the last of the fuel in the stove burned to ashes. Settling back into his bag, he listened for the bats to start their attack on the building. The darkness came earlier each night as the hungry swarm pushed to find new sources of food upon which to prey. Even as the sun was setting, they were already covering a small herd of cattle that had survived up to this point. Now they were just providers of hot sticky blood that fed their thirst.

“Was it worse to drown in blood or to steal a heartbeat of peace?”

-Thoughts from the Author

Chapter 47

Susan held the plywood to the open doorway as hard as she could. As long as she did so, she was safe from the horde of bats that were pushing and brushing against it. She knew that there was no way she could do this all night. Her arms were getting tired, and she felt that a strong push would cause her to fail completely. Kicking around with her foot, she sought the 2x4 that had been braced up against the sheet of plywood only moments before. It had fallen after a large mass of bats had slammed into the doorway from the outside. Maybe if she could reach it and put it back up, she might have a chance. Suddenly, her toes struck the board and sent it sliding several feet away. Damn it!

Getting down on her knees, she used one hand to hold the board and the other to reach for the piece of wood. Grabbing it with her nails and fingertips, she fought time and friction to pull it toward her. At last, she was able to get a solid hold on the board and slide it up against the sheet of plywood. Kicking with her foot, she jammed it up tight to the cross beam she had nailed to it earlier. Reaching for her hammer and nails, she re-tacked the wood to the floor. After double-checking that it was secure again, she stepped away from the doorway and surveyed her shelter. Earlier in the day, she had found a garage that was missing a door. It had been broken out by looters or something and lay in pieces scattered around the building’s floor. The big car door was solid wood, and she was able to nail it to the building walls with strips of wooden flooring that had been stacked just inside. The window was likewise covered until it only had a small open strip to let in the remaining sunlight. As the darkness framed it, she heard the first of the bats that brushed like whispers of rough silk on a glass bowl.  Now, the roar was filling her ears, and she checked that the other door and windows were still good. Then she found a long piece of wood in the rafters over her head. Jumping, she snagged it and was able to pull it down. Using the last of her nails, she pounded the board across the sheet of plywood and into the doorframe. Now she could relax a little. But, it had been close. Real close.

After she had buried her family as best she could, she had headed southeast in an effort to still reach the Gulf Coast. Her family had spent many a winter break there, and they all thought the warmer weather and good fishing would help them survive. Now alone, she needed somewhere to go, some place to set a goal for in her mind. Otherwise, she could have just left herself open to the bats and ended the whole thing. Two days of cross-country travel had placed her at the garage, and she had spent the rest of the afternoon in securing it. Wiping the sweat from her eyes, she sat next to her only light source, an air-freshening candle, and worked at deciding which can to open first. She had green beans and sweet corn. That was all that she had found so far, and it was all she had to eat. Flipping a mental coin, she pulled out her knife and began cutting open the green beans. Being careful of the sharp edge, she used a plastic fork to dish out the beans. After several bites, she sipped from the can and drank the water they had been canned with. Water was the one thing she was having real trouble in finding. This was the Southwest, and normal rivers and streams just did not exist. Yesterday, she had found an empty house and had drained the toilet tank and boiled it to be safe. Checking for other sources, she had found that the house’s hot water heater had been dry for some reason. Maybe someone had already found it and moved on. She only had about a gallon of water to see her through for now. Finishing the can, she wiped it out and set it aside. Tin cans could be re-used to make rocket stoves, which can be used to burn sticks and other matter as fuel. The can of corn would supply the other can she needed. After securing the garage the first time, she had searched all the boxes and cabinets for anything useful. In one place, she had found a small hacksaw blade, the nails she had used, and the small hammer. In another, she found a hatchet, a green cylinder of propane for a cooking stove, and a set of camping cook pots. The pots were rusty and had been unused for a long time. After a little effort with some sand and elbow grease, she had them cleaned up to her satisfaction. Deciding the pots could wait for a bigger meal, she spent a few more minutes in searching for any other items that might help her. Her eyes finally settled on the tarp that covered some boxes in the corner. She could use that for a shelter against the sun and rain. A short section of rope was quickly added to her stash to help support it. Now, she was getting somewhere!

“Woe is Man to live in troubled times of darkness and despair.”

-Thoughts from the Author

Chapter 48

The next morning, she walked through the open rangeland and turned her eyes to the sky. The turkey vultures were busy as they fed upon the remains of cattle the bats had left behind after they were finished. She stayed well away from those feeding zones, both to stay from disease and away from the smell. Moving on, she found a wind-powered water trough that had been used to water the cattle. She used it to refill her canteens and to wash out her clothes after the last few days of travel. The water was too cold for her to bathe in, but it was fine for a quick wash. Afterward, she sat by the tank and took a break. The morning sun was bright today, and it seemed to aid in her mood as she looked over a map. As near as she could tell, she was outside Lawton, Oklahoma. If she kept going southeast, she would reach the Texas border in another day or two. The problem was that she was headed into a much more populated area that was built up prior to the plague. She would have to go around the Dallas/Fort Worth area in order to be safe from people who might still have the plague or worse. A woman traveling alone always had the danger of someone preying on her. She needed to stay away from both issues while still trying to survive the bats. She looked over the map for the best route to travel and still reach the coast itself.

Chevy Sands was having similar thoughts as he watched the snow continuing to fall. The last three days had exhausted his food supplies, and he was eating the snow for water. His scooter was totally buried under a blanket of snow and ice that was now inches thick. The battery was dead, and he figured that the little machine was worthless in the current environment. He watched the snow fall and thought deeply as to what he should do next.

Putting on his heavy coat and hat, he looked to the north at a row of houses that were just visible. He thought an hour to reach them, an hour or so to search, and another hour to get back here. Damn, he hated walking in this shit, but he had done a lot worse over the past few months, and it would keep him warm. Sliding open the back door, he stepped on the open deck and tested the snow. It was slippery and hard under a fresh layer of snow. Maybe he should wait a day or two. The growl from his stomach reminded him why he was even out there, and he stepped carefully down the steps. Reaching the frozen ground, he found it better than the porch, and he was able to walk over the snow as long as he was careful. The snow was up to his knees when he broke through, and he took his time making his way up to the road. Once there, he found the roadbed was only lightly covered, and he made much better time as he made his way forward.  Even so, it took him nearly an hour and a half to reach the first house. Using his trusty pry bar, he had the front door open in seconds and made his way inside. Dropping his empty pack on the kitchen table, he began opening cabinets and drawers in a search for food. He was able to find a few cans, but it was mostly vegetables and chicken broth. It wasn’t a great meal but better than nothing. Pulling out his flashlight, he made his way down the basement stairs and flashed the light around to get an idea of what he was facing. A washing machine and dryer combo sat on one side and shelving covered another. After moving some boxes, he was able to find a good sleeping bag that was heavier than the one he had. A good find as his was a lightweight summer one.

Walking around to the side of the stairs, he found a doorway that opened farther into the basement. Here he found a storehouse of homemade canned goods, five gallon-sized bottles of frozen water, and additional camping gear. Now this was more like it! He grabbed a glass jar of homemade beef and wondered if it was still good. The water inside was frozen, but the glass had not broken. Tapping the lid, he heard a hollow tinny sound that he thought was a good sign. Pulling down several more, he made his way back upstairs and placed them in his pack. The kitchen stove was electric, so he didn’t bother to try to make some up now. He’d take it back home and fix it there. The trouble was that all the food was here, and the current house was there. Now what to do?