The Vermilion Strain : Post-Apocalyptic Extinction Page 4

  “Don’t be a baby.” She hissed at herself. Clearing her throat, she went in front of the truck. Taking a standard shooting stance, the one her ex-husband had taught her, she brought her weapon up. Aiming carefully, she shot a single round. Missed. She looked over her shoulder at Buddy, he was watching her intently, but didn’t seemed frightened. Good. Turning back, she refocused and aimed once more, trying to relax her shoulders. She fired once more, this time, closer to the target. The third shot was well within the circles she drew and she grinned.

  Walking farther back ten feet, she aimed once more, sighting the target. Firing, she was just near her target’s center. She aimed once more and hit within the target’s bullseye. Good. It wasn’t dead center, but she’d at least hit what she’d aim for. Center mass. She didn’t have the ammo to waste target practicing. Once she got to Lancaster, she’d go and see what her father had in his basement. She knew he kept weapons and ammunition. Hopefully, she’d find something for the Sig.

  She put the weapon in her homemade holster, which was up by her chest. Easy access for when she drove. She didn’t want to have to search for the weapon if a threat suddenly appeared. Before getting back into the truck, she stepped up on the running board. She laid her arm across the top of the truck and felt the heat of it, she looked around. So damned quiet and so empty. She tried not to think about that. Tried not to think about the loneliness of never seeing another human. She knew people were out there, but more probable than not, they were a threat she’d need to be wary of.

  Ӝ

  Brian pulled away from the house, he’d shut the generator off. No need wasting fuel, nor did he want drawing attention to his home. It was cool out, the early morning felt fresh and he kept the windows down. He looked over at Cooper, who had his blanket hugged up against his face. The child was still sleepy and stared vacantly, his small thumb rubbing his lower lip. Cooper had stopped sucking his thumb, Jillian had mentioned it last year. Since his parent’s death, he’d seen Cooper sucking his thumb from time to time. It was a comforting mechanism. He’d thought about the car seat in Coop’s father’s vehicle and had gotten it. He didn’t know what was out there, but he didn’t need four-year-old Cooper unsecure in the truck. The child was small and fine boned, he was light and would go through the window, even with a seatbelt across him. No, he’d have the child securely seated.

  The air was cool, but he could smell the fug of decomp in the air. It wasn’t as prevalent as it once had been, but it was a reminder that his world wasn’t the same. Time was taking care of that. He just hoped he didn’t see piles of dead bodies. He wove his RAM through the subdivision and looked at the houses. No movement, nor sound. Morning birds were singing away. Many lawns were now overgrown.

  “Guess mowing isn’t high on anyone’s list these days.” He said absently to Cooper, who didn’t answer. Ahead he saw something that made him grin. Parked on the side of a driveway was a U-Haul trailer. With his truck bed crammed full, along with the backseat, this would be perfect to hook up to his truck. He could fill it with his list of items from Lowes and the other hardware stores along the way. It would come in handy for storage as well. He pulled over and looked at Cooper.

  “Coop, stay put, I’m going to check out that trailer.”

  “Okay.” He said sleepily.

  Brian turned off the engine and got out of the truck. He walked over and opened the trailer. There were a few boxes, but it was nearly empty. He walked up to the house and knocked on it. He stood, looking around. His Glock was in a holster at his back. His shirt covered it. He didn’t think anyone was home, or if they were, they were dead. He knocked once more.

  “Hello inside. I’m going to take that trailer. I’ll empty the boxes and leave them on the driveway. If you don’t want me to take it. Please let me know. Otherwise, I hope you don’t mind. Thanks.” He said loudly. He waited a few moments, listening intently. Hearing nothing, he walked back to the trailer. He pulled the cartons out and set them on the driveway. He didn’t bother looking in them. Once the trailer was empty, he secured the doors. Getting back in his truck, he pulled up and around, then backed the truck to the hitch. Within ten minutes, he was back on the road. He smiled over at Cooper, who grinned back, his blue eyes crinkling.

  Forty minutes later, he pulled into Lowes and parked near the entrance. The glass doors were standing wide open. Getting out of the truck, he went around and helped Cooper out.

  “Stay close to me Coop. If you see anything, let me know, okay?”

  “Okay daddy.” He piped up, his small hand reaching for Brian’s larger one. Brian grinned down at him and they walked in. Brian found a large cart and set Cooper up on it for a ride. First, he went to plumbing and got various PVC pipes and joints. Then he went over and found tools. He carefully chose what he thought he might need in the future. There was so much, he figured it would take a few trips of filling the trailer. He planned to build a couple of storage buildings. That way, he could put the propane tanks and other building material inside. They would be on hand if and when he needed them.

  He wheeled the cart outside and began to neatly fill the trailer. Then he and Cooper headed back in. He stopped by one of the small refrigerators and got a bottle of water. He got a package of chips and handed both to Cooper who ate the snack as Brian pushed to cart to the lumber section. Then when he passed the wood stoves, he stopped. He looked at what they had and decided to pick up a small unit. It would heat up to sixteen hundred square feet. He knew that was overkill for the small cabins, but at least they’d be warm. He could also cook on it. He’d not need to use that much wood.

  It took a bit of maneuvering, though the stove was small, it was still heavy. He got flashing and double insulated stove pipe for it as well. He wasn’t sure how much he would need, so he got extra. Heading back out, he loaded the trailer with the wood and stove. He looked down at Cooper.

  “Maybe I should get one of the smaller stoves, just in case you decide to move out when you get grown. Set up your own place. Two is better than one.” He shrugged and pushed the cart back to the wood stoves. Two hours later, the trailer was jammed with building items.

  “Guess we better find us a place to live with all this stuff. Good thing I grabbed that length of chain, I’m going to have to chain the cabin closed until we can move in permanently.”

  Cooper nodded in agreement and Brian chuckled. He reached in back and pulled out a bag. He handed Cooper a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a juice box. He’d have to stock up on those while he could. Pulling out, he headed for the highway. He’d seen no one. It was a peculiar feeling, and talking to Cooper as well. He’d not spoke to another person in weeks. Cooper didn’t seem to mind and looked out the window as they went. Ahead, Brian saw a sign, Gary’s Guns and Ammo. He pulled off the highway. He didn’t know what the store had, but he figured he’d have a need for more ammo as well as something a bit more substantial than his Mossberg.

  Getting out, he saw that the shop was closed. No surprise. What did surprise him was that the windows were still intact. He’d figured this would be one place to get plundered, but so far, he’d not seen a lot of looting. Perhaps people were still hunkered down for fear of getting the Vermilion virus. Reaching beneath his seat, he pulled a tire iron out and went to the door, leaving Cooper in the truck. He tapped around and the door’s glass began to spider out with small fractures. It didn’t take much for the door to then shatter.

  He went back to the truck and then got Cooper out. He helped the child enter the store, careful of the broken shards of glass. Looking around, he was impressed with the stock. There was even a camping and fishing section. His eye was immediately drawn to an AR15. He’d never considered getting that type of weapon before, but figured he’d do well to have it in his arsenal. He went behind the counter and pulled it from the case. He was surprised at the light weight. Looking along the back shelf, where boxes of shells were neatly stacked, Brian began to pull boxes down. He also picked up more ammo for his Glo
ck, Marlin and Mossberg.

  “You can never have enough ammo. Remember that.” He said solemnly down to Cooper, who nodded a solemn agreement. Brian’s eyes crinkled up at the sides and he patted the blond head gently. He loaded the weapon and ammo into the truck. He thought about it and went back inside and chose a Glock 19, along with a handful of mags. He next went over to the fishing and camping area of the store. There were tents and sleeping bags and other items. He saw a shiny canister and walked over.

  “Travel Berkey filtration system, looks like something we might need Coop.” He picked up the box and was impressed. The twin filters could filter out damned near anything. That would be good. It also filtered up to three thousand gallons of water with the filters. Better. He picked up two boxes of the system, then added all of the filters he could find. It would hopefully last them a lifetime. He shrugged, if not his own, then Coop’s. Taking those items back to the truck, he put Cooper and the filtration system into the truck.

  Pulling out, he got back on the road, satisfied. A little over an hour later, Brian pulled into the R.B. Winter State Park. Exiting Sand Mountain road, he pulled onto Keystone road. Driving around and finding the side road, he followed it. He stopped at the entrance and rolled down his window. Listening, he heard nothing but the wind. Sniffing the air, he caught no scent of purification. It was a wilderness unto its own. Surrounded by Bald Eagle State forest, there were numerous parks that also surrounded the area. He was sure that in time, many people would come to the parks to hunt and settle, if not there, then the abandoned farms that peppered the area.

  He continued and stopped in the parking lot, across from Halfway Lake. There was a large building facing the lake, it was the Beach House. He parked the truck, and got out of the truck. Going around, he helped Cooper out and let the boy run to the lake, following behind. Looking around, it was peaceful here. The last time he’d been here, the place was packed with swimmers, tourists and campers. Now, only he and Coop stood at the water’s edge. He saw a family of wood ducks swimming around the water weeds. Farther away, he recognized the tufted duck, and some he didn’t recognize.

  He was pretty sure if people had been here, the ducks and other waterfowl would not be. Or at least he’d not see as many. There were sandpipers farther up the shore, Brian thought they were stopping over on their flight to the coasts. Perhaps at some point, they’d add duck to their menu. He liked duck well enough, but for now, he’d let the creatures be and enjoy watching them.

  In the surrounding trees, he heard chickadees fussing and he saw the bright cardinals, males. Since it was spring, the brightly colored males were everywhere. He tracked several goldfinches; they were easy to see as they flew among the branches. Looking back over his shoulder, he looked at the grounds and building.

  He’d been set to take a cabin, build on to it and fix it up for the two of them. But, here, by the water and looking at the landscaped grounds, he began to think better of the original plan. Here, the water was at their doorstep, if he chose to take over the large building. There was cleared ground, just perfect for planting a large garden. He’d need not clear forested land. That in itself would have taken a lot of time and sweat. He needed to get a garden in ASAP. He was sure he’d be able to gather enough food for the coming year, but he wanted fresh veggies. Also, he’d need to learn how to farm and raise crops for them to survive the coming years. Their supplies would only last so long.

  A soft smile creased his tired face as he watched Cooper scamper up and down the beach. The sandpipers ran frantically away, but didn’t take flight. He’d have fresh water for toilets, drinking, bathing and cooking. He could take the plywood and block and compartmentalize a section of the large building and set up his wood stove to heat that area.

  “Come on Coop, let’s unload the truck. We’ll need to make another run to a hardware store before we can head home.”

  THREE

  Flynn geared up with a double bandana on his face. He’d also smeared deodorant under his nose. He’d not been able to shave, so the deodorant clumped on his mustache. He had found rubber gloves and put them on as well. He was outside the first apartment, and he could smell the stench already. He gagged and swallowed hard. He had to go in and get whatever food was inside. If he were to escape this place, he needed food. He tried the door, it was unlocked. Good. He’d brought a hammer and screwdriver as breaking in tools.

  Slowly opening the door, he braced himself for the stench and was not disappointed when a wave of flies and putrid pong hit him. His mouth filled with saliva and he swallowed over and over, commanding himself not to puke. His eyes teared up and his hands knotted into fists. For several moments, he thought he would indeed vomit, but he got control over himself. Walking into the apartment, he looked around quickly, ready to avert his eyes from any gruesome sights. He saw nothing. It was a two-bedroom apartment, by the layout. He’d go nowhere near the bedrooms.

  He went directly to the small kitchen. It was neat, but the appliances were old. He began to open cabinets and skipped over the dishes. He came upon a cabinet with canned foods and began to load his backpack. His shoulders began to relax. He’d not starve. That bastard, Casper, hadn’t beaten him yet. He’d have to gather what he could and get the hell out of Philadelphia. He’d head to Amish country and see about working there. Maybe if he could learn from them, he could maybe survive on his own. Who knew? It had to be better than staying in the city.

  Leaving the apartment, his backpack full, he went back to his own place. After he dump the contents, maybe he’d get a few shopping bags and fill those as well at the next apartment. He hit another apartment, going in quickly and getting out. Going back into his apartment, he heard something outside. He’d now left the windows open, since the apartment was unbearably hot. He leaned out the window and his jaw dropped open. A small troupe of black headed spider monkeys were running and jumping over vehicles and off utility poles. They were screeching loudly, there looked to be twenty of them. He watched the incongruous scene below and then saw why the monkeys were screaming and running. A lynx was hot on their trail, chasing them. Flynn doubted the cat would catch the swift creatures. More from the zoo, he was sure.

  He went back to retrieve his empty backpack and plastic shopping bags. He opened a bottle of water and drained it. Sighing in heavy satisfaction, he tossed the empty bottle on the kitchen counter. He had nearly a dozen bottles of water now. He hoped he could find more. Leaving his apartment, he went to his next apartment. This one was locked. He knocked on the door, a perfunctory knock. He could smell the putrid fug from within. Taking the screwdriver, he placed it on the lock and hammered away. The noise of it made him wince as it bounced off the hallway. Finally, the door gave in and opened.

  Cautiously, he stepped in, his eyes quickly scanning the apartment. There on the floor lay a dog, a small yappy one. It had died of starvation or dehydration. He’d not thought about pets. It saddened him that the poor thing had suffered so. He quickly went to the kitchen and once more rifled through the cupboards. He opened a small pantry and sighed happily. Bottles of water and packs of instant noodles. He also found cans of fruits and vegetables. He didn’t dare open the refrigerator, he wanted to keep whatever he had in his stomach.

  With the water, the food stuff was heavy and he was sweating now in the hotbox of an apartment building. He’d make another run and then he’d call it a day. It was getting late and he’d start his trip in the morning. At least tonight, he would feast and eat well. The food would be cold, but as hot as it was in his apartment, he was fine with that.

  Ӝ

  Emma squinted her eyes. It the distance ahead, she thought she saw a solitary figure walking along the highway. She pulled the Sig Sauer out and laid it on her lap. As she drew near, she could see that the person had a large backpack, stuffed with odds and ends hanging off. It was one of those kinds that hikers used. She slowed the blue Silverado down and the figure stopped and turned. It was a round face, brown, with round glasses. Dark bl
ock brows raised in question as she pulled up and stopped.

  She smiled down at the diminutive woman, for it was a woman, dressed in jeans and a light blue jacket.

  “Hi.” She smiled down. “Where ya heading?”

  “Hey! No clue. Where are you heading?” said the woman with a heavy Boston accent, the woman grinned. Her grin was infectious and Emma found herself grinning back. She loved hearing the heavy Boston accent, it never ceased to crack her up.

  “I’m heading to Pennsylvania, to a nice little state park to start a new life.”

  “How would you like some company; it sounds as good a place to go as any?” The woman laughed, causing Emma to laugh as well.

  “Hell yeah, I was afraid I was the only person left on earth. Come on in. Buddy, get in the back seat, boy.” Emma ordered the dog, who seemed to understand and hopped into the packed backseat. The woman came around and opened the passenger’s side. Taking off her large backpack, she groaned in pleasure.

  “Jesus Christ, that’s damned wicked heavy, I’ll tell you.” The woman laughed and shoved the backpack into the back cab of the truck, shoving Buddy over toward the driver’s side. Climbing up into the truck, Emma noticed the holster the woman wore at her waist. It looked tactical, not like her own. The woman noticed her gaze.

  “I’m a cop, or was. Boston P.D. Name’s Paadini Sullivan. My friends call me Paadi.” She grinned and her dark block brows bounced up and down with good humor. Emma knew she’d found a friend.

  “I’m Emma Prichard, and I was a nurse. Now, post-apocalyptic survivor.” She sniggered, and Paadi laughed as well. Settling in, she buckled her seatbelt.

  “Nice police dog you got there, did you find him or did he find you?” Paadi asked.

  “What? I just thought he was a mutt. We found each other. How do you know he’s a police dog?”

  “He’s a Belgian Malinois, and when I get a chance, I’ll check his ears for a tattoo. Sometimes the owner/trainer has them tattooed. Lucky, he’s bonded with you and he’ll protect you with his life.”