Day 2 -South Carolina
Carl turned right on State Route 17 that went east through downtown. At the intersection of Tadlock Road and State Route 17 they encountered a large group of the walking dead. The Denny’s on the corner had more than ten of them milling around near the front doors. Terrified early morning diners were trapped inside the restaurant. Their faces were pressed against the glass as they witnessed the mayhem outside. In the parking lot there was a small car high centered on a mound of dead bodies. The front wheels were off of the ground and spun freely trying to get purchase. Carl slowed the Escalade and crept past. Some of the walkers took interest and tried to follow, while others had just succeeded in breaking a window on the compact car and were attacking the young couple through the opening. Harboring a feeling of helplessness, Carl glanced at his sister and registered the slight side to side shaking of her head. Stopping to help them was out of the question; discretion had to be the better part of valor if they wanted to survive. Brook held Raven’s head in her lap as they passed by the gruesome scene.
They narrowly avoided colliding with a fast moving, out of control pickup thanks to Carl’s quick reflexes. Instead it plowed into a string of parked cars in front of the Holiday Inn. Undead poured from the motel, swarming the ruined truck. After the near collision Carl recommended that Raven get buckled up in one of the back seats.
Three Myrtle Beach Police Department Ford Crown Victoria cruisers screeched to a stop between the Denny’s and the motel. Without delay the zombies surrounded the police cars. In a scene that reminded Brook of the Rodney King riots in L.A., the three patrol cars roared away to safety, leaving the truck driver for dead. She supposed this would be the case in the next few days as society continued to disintegrate.
The news helicopter flitting around the downtown area reminded Carl to turn on the radio and scan for a transmitting station. WKNB AM was the only one on the air. They listened as they drove. The female reporter said President Bernard Odero was in a secure location but Vice President Chauncey Lindstrom was still in the District of Columbia; Speaker of the House Valerie Clay was in a separate and secure location. She went on to report that the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta was working around the clock to find a counter to the virus. So far they knew the mortality rate was one hundred percent. Any bite or saliva contact definitely led to infection; the pathogen was isolated to the mouth and bred and thrived there. The speed of its introduction into the blood stream depended on the location and severity of the bite on the victim’s body. For instance, a bite on the neck near the jugular vein or carotid artery resulted in a quick death from loss of blood, consequently the time until reanimation was more rapid. Furthermore, she warned people to stay away from areas where large groups of people assembled, such as churches, hospitals and shopping malls. For quarantine reasons the main roads in and out of most cities would soon be closed as mandated by the CDC, Homeland Security and FEMA. Comfort centers had been established in some cities for the infected and their families.
Carl said aloud to no one in particular, “I wonder how long the upper levels of government have been in their comfort centers?” He sarcastically added, “I bet those fat cats have caviar and champagne where they are holed up.”
Brook said, “Sounds to me like the flu or whatever it’s called now is far more dangerous than anyone was reporting initially. I’d bet the government is already planning severe contingency plans if the spread isn’t slowed or stopped soon.”
“What measures do you think they’ll resort to?” Carl wondered.
“I remember when Cade told me about a conspiracy theory web site he checked on occasion. He said there was talk about FEMA already having set aside hundreds of thousands of body bags in multiple locations around the continental United States.”
“Where are they? Did Cade mention that?” Carl asked.
“No. It really disturbed me then. I remember he said that all of the locations were near rail lines…”
“That sure sounds like Nazi Germany and the Holocaust, not our United States government. Wow, really?” Carl intoned incredulously.
“Considering all of the things our government has swept under the rug or just plain lied about, I would put little past them,” Brook said.
“I wholeheartedly agree, little sister.”
Raven announced “I have to go pee,” then asked her mom, “have you checked your phone to see if Dad called?”
“Not in a while. Where is that thing?” Her phone was at the bottom of her bag. She checked it. “No bars, Raven. It looks like there are no new messages either. We’ll have to check again later.”
They pulled over in a deserted Albertsons’ parking lot so Raven could relieve her bladder. The dark store looked like it had recently been bombed. Trash and bodies littered the entryway and most of the ground level windows were reduced to glittering shards on the asphalt.
Raven exited the vehicle while Brook looked on, the shotgun cradled in the crook of her arm. It was the longest two minutes of Raven’s young life as she squatted by the idling SUV.
One of the bodies near the storefront suddenly sat up and clumsily stood erect. Brook looked over at her daughter who was still peeing. “Hurry up. We have company.”
The undead man creakily shuffled towards them. He was badly mauled, his intestines trailing behind him like a pet snake. Brook looked away in disgust. Raven buttoned up her jeans and jumped back into the Escalade in one motion.
For some reason Brook lingered outside of the vehicle.
“Get in Sis!” Carl yelled.
Brook shouldered her dad’s shotgun and cocked one of the hammers. The thing was ten feet from the SUV when Carl blew the horn. Brook jumped and the gun discharged, blowing one frail looking arm off of the middle-aged walker. It kept a slow steady pace, still homing in on Brook.
The first mistake was Carl sounding the horn; the second was Brook missing the headshot. Fumbling to get the second hammer cocked, Brook looked past the intestine-dragging ghoul and counted a number of undead exiting the store.
Raven started screaming as the walkers converged on her mom. Their moaning quickly reached a terrifying crescendo.
Brook steadied her aim and silently cursed the undead being as she pulled the trigger. The shotgun blast pulped the walker’s head; it fell and rolled, twisting itself up in its own entrails. The smells and sounds were overwhelming. Gagging, she hauled herself into the Escalade.
Carl floored it. Ignoring his own rule, he careened over a multitude of the walking dead on his way to the road. His mouth curled up at the corners as he silently scolded himself, Note to self, no more honking the horn, Carl.
Looking over at her brother, Brook noticed his inappropriate grin and asked him to share his thoughts. Carl declined at first. “You almost got me killed back there, Carl!” Brook halfheartedly screamed at him. Carl acquiesced. “I was just mentally scolding myself for honking the horn back there. It won’t happen again.”
“I owe you an apology. It wasn’t the time or the place to test my courage,” Brook said with a sheepish grin.
“Sis, if I’d known this is what it would take for us to get along so well, I would’ve wished for the zombie apocalypse a long time ago… minus what happened to Mom and Dad of course.” Carl immediately wished he could take back his words.
While dodging more walkers, he maneuvered the truck in the direction of Interstate 17 and eventually Fort Bragg.