Chapter 2
“Zoe, take the gun.” My hands were still over my ears. Boggs was hurriedly driving down the gentle slope of the driveway, and became irritated. He smacked my left shoulder and yelled. “God damn it, Zoe! Take the gun!”
I looked at him, in shock by both his tone with me and from the unreal events of the morning. He reached over and set the gun in my lap, and I placed my left hand over it. Tears were streaming down my face. Boggs slammed his fist against the steering wheel with a sound of frustration deep in his throat.
Turning to the right, away from the earlier car crash, Boggs headed down the road while I sat useless. I was trying to hold in my sobs before I lost all control. I wiped my eyes with an old tissue that was shoved between the center console and the driver’s seat. Boggs slammed his fist into the steering wheel again, causing fresh tears on my part. I wasn’t familiar with this side of him and it scared me.
“Zo, don’t cry. I just need to think. I need to get you out of here safely.”
I reached forward to turn the radio on, but was met with a broken knob.
“The damn radio’s broken,” said Boggs in a frustrated tone. “Only the CD player works. Fuck. We need to know what the hell is going on. Damn it.” He beat the steering wheel with his fist again.
I dabbed at my tears some more, and turned away from him to look out the window as we drove. We had cleared our small neighborhood and were headed south along a roadway that served a handful of farms. The road was oddly absent of vehicles, and our path was clear. To the east was a hay field that had recently been harvested. Rolled bales covered in white plastic dotted the hillside. We continued to drive in silence, the shock of events causing me to tune out Boggs as he mumbled under his breath.
Not wanting to face him, I kept watching the countryside pass by. A large pasture came to view. A Black Angus calf lay in the distance while the rest of the herd was in a far corner. I could see four human figures crouched over the animal’s body, ripping into its hide with bare and bloodied hands. They were cramming chunks of flesh into their mouths and feasting while the dying calf flailed in pain and protest.
I looked away and wiped my runny nose with a bare arm, leaving a trail of slime and tears. In a monotonous tone and now looking out the windshield I spoke to Boggs. “They eat animals.”
“I saw.”
“I need to pee.”
“Me too. I’ll stop soon, but we’ll need to hurry. We’ll need to watch out for each other. And you need to know how to shoot that pistol, Zo.”
I nodded, and picked it up.
“Ok, Zoe. First rule. Never point it at someone unless you intend to shoot them. Second rule. Never squeeze the trigger unless you mean to shoot. Third rule. Don’t be afraid of it.” He looked at me. “Got it?”
I nodded.
“You’ll do best if you hold it with both hands. Keep steady, aim by looking down the sight. Take a deep breath, exhale halfway, and then hold your breath while you fire. Once you’re sure your aim is steady, that’s when you squeeze the trigger. Don’t hesitate, just squeeze. And keep your eyes open. If you close your eyes your aim will be off.” I was already overwhelmed. “There’s ammo in the clip and I’ll teach you how to get a bullet into the chamber later on. It’s going to kick when you fire, but you’ll get used to it. Go ahead and just hold it up and aim in front of the car to get used to the sight. Just don’t actually shoot yet.”
I held the pistol in my right hand, lifted it toward the windshield, and held my left hand to my right wrist for support. It felt heavy. Nothing about it felt right.
“Now close one eye and look down the sight on top. Aim at that lone fir tree in the field to your right.”
I did as instructed.
“Try to keep your arms steady.”
I took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly trying to steady my arms. It wasn’t easy in a moving car. The sight bounced no matter what I did.
“Boggs.”
“Hmm?”
“We’ve been driving for over an hour. I really need to pee.”
“Ok. I’m stopping. When I do, you go first. I’ll hold the gun and cover you.”
The car slowed and came to a stop in the middle of the highway. There wasn’t much to speak of in sight. Boggs put his right hand on my left arm, catching my attention.
“Once I unlock the doors, get out. Don’t wander from the car. Just squat and pee here, ok?”
“Just don’t watch,” I said.
He pushed the unlock button, and I opened my door and stepped out. The breeze had turned to strong wind gusts, and the heat of the asphalt hit me like the thermal from a just opened oven door. I untied my shorts and pulled them down to my ankles and followed with my panties. I squatted there with my door still open. It took several long moments before my bladder would release itself. It took longer for the stream to finish, my body finally setting free the coffee, ice cream, and beer from the morning. I stood and pulled my pants back up. I looked over to Boggs to tell him I was done, and caught him looking at me. Typical man.
“Your turn, Boggs,” I said without enthusiasm. The muscles in my body were beginning to feel the stress from the day along with the confines of the Explorer. My hip was starting to throb.
Boggs set the handgun on top of the car and gently pushed it to within my reach. He faced away from the car while doing his business. I scanned the horizon watching for danger. It looked like any normal day in the Pacific Northwest. Dark clouds were rolling in from the south and there was an electric charge to the air.
“There’s a storm coming, Boggs,” I said while looking up at the sky.
“Looks like a big one,” he replied. “We should get moving. Nothing here feels right and the tank’s low. There’s a gas station a mile or so up the highway. I used to stop there on my way to the university.”
Boggs picked up the Kahr and got back into the driver’s seat. I joined him, and locked the doors. The engine was still running, and the car lurched forward when put into drive. The next three quarters of a mile were uneventful as we drove in silence. The mountains loomed in the distance to the east, their jagged tops hidden by the gray cloud cover. We saw human figures dotting the land from time to time, all walking or crawling in awkward and unnatural motions. The highway veered to the east and the ARCO station came into view. There was an old condemned farmhouse in the backdrop of the newer convenience store. Its green paint was fading and peeling. The windows were boarded in graffiti covered plywood. Blackberry bushes had laid claim to the backside of the old house, seemingly trying to pull it into the earth. Boggs pulled the car to a slow stop in front of a pump marked “4” and shut the engine off.
“Zo, I’m going to try the gas pump. I need you to watch my back, and if I have to go inside I want you to lock yourself in the car.”
“No way, Boggs,” I said adamantly.
Boggs shushed me. “No arguments, Zoe. Just watch the parking lot.” He unlocked the doors and stepped out, grabbing the wallet out of his back pocket. I got out of the car and stood on the running board to get a better view. I looked over to see my friend sliding twenty dollar bills through the self-pay center next to the pump. He waited for a few seconds then stepped back to the car. He gave me a “thumbs up,” put the nozzle into the gas tank, and set the latch for automatic filling. He walked over to me and leaned his back against the passenger door.
“I think I should go inside, Zo. See if they have a TV or radio. Heck, see if there’s anyone in there. We’re lucky the power’s on and the pumps are working.”
“I want to come with, Boggs.” He looked at me and shook his head in a gesture of ‘no.’ Before he could say the word, though, I spoke up. “Listen!” I raised my voice as much as I dared. “I
t’s always safer in numbers. In the movies the people who die are always the ones who split up.” He looked at me in disbelief that I had said something so ridiculous.
“Ok, Zoe. But we’re in and out in five minutes or less. No screwing around. If there’s any of those things inside we shoot to kill and leave. And stay behind me.”
“Agreed.”
“I’m going to drive around to the front window and we can start by just looking in. I want the car close by so we can get out fast.”
“’Kay. Fair enough.”
The sound of the gas pump clicking signaled the tank was full. Boggs walked around and put the pump handle back on its hook, screwed the cap back on the tank, and we both got back into the car. It roared to life and we crept forward to peek into the large glass windows of the convenience store. Not seeing any movement, Boggs parked in front of the double doors marked “enter” and “exit.” He shut the motor off and we looked at each other. “You ready?” he asked.
“Ya. Let’s do it.”
“Five minutes or less,” he reminded me.
“Five or less,” I echoed and took a deep breath.
Boggs took the gun and went first. I followed close behind. I randomly wondered if the Slushy machine was working.
We both peered in through the slightly darkened windows, shading our faces with our hands to avoid the glare from the glass. The lights within flickered a few times, but nothing else seemed amiss aside from the lack of people milling about.
As Boggs opened the door we heard the traditional ding! ding! that such stores are known for. It caused us to pause, afraid of what might be around to react to our announced arrival. The lights continued to flicker at irregular intervals. Behind the counter, mounted to the ceiling, was a silenced TV with vertical rainbow stripes. After a quick walk through the store to make sure the aisles were clear, Boggs slid behind the forbidden pony wall that was meant to keep customers away from the cash register and cigarettes. I gazed around the store waiting for monsters to come out of nooks and crannies while Boggs rifled through drawers searching for useful things. He pocketed something, but I wasn’t able to see what it was. I figured if it was important he’d let me know. He pointed a black remote control at the TV to change channels.
“Anything?” I whispered.
He motioned me over.
“There’s no sound on the damn thing but there’s a message on channel four.”
I joined him behind the counter and peered up at the small screen. The background was red, and in white lettering there was a scrolling message that didn’t make much sense.
Code status fifteen. Northwest/Northeast. Protocols seven and thirty. Full containment measures.
“That’s it?” I asked.
Boggs sighed and crossed his arms. “Let’s grab a few things and get out of here. I want to put distance between us and civilization.”
We walked the aisles, grabbing random items. I was always a sucker for Doritos and figured a bag would be ok. Of all the things we could have used, I grabbed a sack of chips, a can of bean dip, and shoved four packs of M&M’s into my pockets. Boggs headed back to the counter for a plastic sack and filled it with aspirin, matches, bandages, and a small sack of BBQ briquettes. He looked at my junk food and rolled his eyes.
“Classy, Zo, classy.”
Before he could hassle me anymore, a loud THUD came from the front window, causing me to drop my preservative-laced feast. Boggs dropped his plastic sack and reached for the Kahr. The beast that was flinging himself against the windows looked like he was in his late teens and had greasy brown hair and piercings in his lower lip, left eyebrow, and nose. His left cheek hung loosely from his face and he still had a tourniquet around his right arm with a needle dangling precariously. His pants were bloodied and chunks of flesh were missing from his bare chest, leaving gaping blackened craters that still oozed. A large ragged wound ran the length of his left side and around to his abdomen where loops of bowel hung in a soupy, bloody mess. I swallowed the vomit that tried to force its way up my throat and backed farther into the store while Boggs took a protective stance in front of me. The druggie was closer to the Explorer now, having moved toward the doors. A second and third corpse emerged from around the corner to join their mutilated and very much dead friend. The woman looked older and was naked except for old tennis shoes that had no laces. Her right thigh was eaten away to the bone and her lower jaw was missing. Her swollen and bloodied tongue hung stiffly from where her mouth should be. Bringing up the rear was a short man who was equally wide as tall. He wore a bowtie that was hidden almost in full by his triple chin and his suit jacket looked like it must have once been beige, but was now covered in dirt and blood. His chest was bare, a sickly shade of blue-gray. His boxers were around his ankles causing him to shuffle slowly on his bare feet. Around his right forearm was a belt cinched tight, his arm ending in a bloody stump at the wrist. His genitals had been eaten away and bite marks ran the length of his inner thighs.
“Zoe, stay back!” Boggs shouted as he aimed his Kahr at the naked woman who was now pressing into the doors, causing them to open.
We heard the telltale ding! ding! again. The bell announcing new customers was joined with unholy moans and followed by the sound of a gunshot from outside. The fat man fell, the back of his head blown off and now splattered on the window to our left. The mass of skull, brain, and hair seemed to be suspended, and then slowly made a trail of black ooze as gravity caused it to slide down the glass until it finally dropped out of sight.
Another gunshot momentarily deafened me, this time coming from Boggs’ gun. The naked woman was hit in her bare shoulder and fell to the ground, landing in a contorted manner on her side. She twisted her fallen body and stood again. She began to walk away from the store seemingly interested in something new. A fourth figure emerged, holding a shotgun aimed at the woman. The sky had darkened and rain began to fall heavily as the sky flashed white. The sound of the shotgun firing was echoed by that of thunder as the woman’s body dropped once again, now minus the top of her head. She didn’t get up this time around.
“Boggs!” I screamed. The teenager was inside the store now and moving toward us. His snarls and moans were met by thunder, and his stench mingled with that of fresh rain meeting oil on the long-dry summer pavement.
Boggs lifted the handgun and looked down the sight. Another thunderous gunshot and the teenager stood still, no longer advancing. There was a black hole in the middle of his forehead. His body slumped to the mat that was meant to catch debris from shoes. He was finally at rest.
We watched as the man with the shotgun moved toward us. His weapon was lifted toward the sky as a sign of intent to do no harm, and it was clear by his speed and agility that he was human. One of us.
He was in his late thirties or early forties, I’d guess, and dressed in jeans and a button up shirt. On his hands were fingerless black gloves, and he was topped by a black felt cowboy hat.
“Zoe, put your hands up so he knows we’re not a threat.”
I did as instructed, following the stance Boggs took. The cowboy came to the door, his hands also outstretched in a human gesture.
Boggs called out to him through the door that still stood propped open by the fallen teen. “We’re human. There are two of us. Don’t shoot!”
The cowboy returned the greeting. “I’m coming in.”
He crossed the threshold to the store, stepping over the body of the dead teenager. His shotgun held in his left hand, he extended his right toward Boggs. “Name’s Gus.” The cowboy smiled, and lightning struck in the distance. “Nice to meet you.”
Boggs took his hand, shook it once, and replied with a curt “Boggs. Adam Boggs.”
The cowboy tipped his hat to me. “Ma’am.”
I was shivering, and not quite able to find my voice. Boggs
answered for me. “This is Zoe.”
The cowboy looked from me to Boggs.
“We’re together,” added my friend.
I looked at Boggs, not quite understanding why he’d added that. He returned my quizzical look with one that suggested I be quiet and step closer to him. I did both. The cowboy named Gus licked his lips and the new aroma of distrust mixed with that of rotten flesh and fresh rain. He turned and slowly walked to the counter and leaned against it, his gun still lowered.
The cowboy broke the awkward silence first. “Is it just the two of you?”
“Yes,” replied Boggs, whose arm I now clung to. “How about you, Gus? Are you alone?” Boggs still held his pistol, now aimed downward toward the floor.
“I had picked up a migrant worker on my way north, but those damn things had bit him at some point. I had to shoot him when he died and came back. So yes, now it’s just me.” He paused for a thoughtful moment. “I saw your SUV parked out front. I was hoping to hot wire it since my truck broke down. But then I saw those bastards trying to get in here. I figured someone alive was around.” He shrugged his shoulders and sucked snot up his nose.
I felt Boggs’ stance relax just a bit. “Thanks for helping out with those two.” He tipped his head toward the bodies outside.
The cowboy smiled in reply. “I hate to trouble you two, but I could sure use a ride.”
Boggs relaxed a bit more and put his hand over mine as I squeezed his arm. I was trying to let him know I didn’t trust the man.
“Our rig isn’t big and it’s packed full. We can rearrange a few things and put one of the back passenger seats up.” I squeezed Boggs’ arm a little harder when he said this. “Zoe, grab your chips? Let’s make this quick.”
Gus held his hand back out to Boggs, some sort of masculine form of agreement mixed with thanks. “Mind if I grab a few things before we load up?” Without waiting for an answer, the man jumped the counter and grabbed as many cartons of cigarettes and cans of chew as he could fit into a plastic sack.
Boggs looked at me and whispered. “It’s okay, Zo. Strength in numbers. Just like in the movies.” He winked at me.
I nodded at him, let go of his arm, and picked up my chips and bean dip.
The man came back around from behind the counter. “Ready.”
Boggs spoke to both me and the cowboy. “We need to rearrange the stuff in the rig. Zoe, Gus and I are going to go out and move some stuff around. I want you to stay inside. You have a couple minutes to grab anything else you need. Keep it small. It’s going to be cramped.”
“’Kay. But I don’t like it,” I answered.
I watched them walk outside. Feeling suddenly very alone, my body shuddered. I grabbed my own empty plastic sacks from the counter and loaded one with Cherry Coke one-liters and bottles of apple juice. I put my Doritos and bean dip in the other. I walked with the sacks toward the back of the store where they sold a stock of souvenirs and picked out a white t-shirt that said “Seattle” on the front with a cheesy drawing of the Space Needle. The only size they had was an extra-large, but I took it anyway.
“Zoe. Come on. It’s time,” said Boggs, indicating that he and Gus were ready.
I walked toward the door, stopping at the body that lay in my path. Boggs encouraged me with a soft voice. “C’mon, just step over.” He held his hand out in an offer to take my bags, then held the other out for me to grab for support. I clung to the t-shirt in one hand, and with the other held his hand tightly while I stepped over the once-junkie-now-dead young man. Boggs put his free hand on my back and led me to the passenger side of the Explorer. “Zoe, I want you to sit in back. Gus has his own gun, so I want you to hold mine.” Gus was several feet away smoking a cigarette and watching for more of the undead. Boggs lowered his voice. “Remember what I told you about it. I’m sure this guy will be fine, but I’ll feel better if you’re behind him with the gun.”
I nodded and slid into the cramped back seat. The smallish SUV was packed with what we thought might be useful: sleeping bags, pillows, a two-man tent, bottled water, food, candles, a lighter, and the toilet paper that surrounded the photo I had hidden. Back in his garage Boggs had laid the back seats flat for more stowage, so with my seat now upright the sacks from the store threatened to fall on me. The Kahr sat on my lap.
My shirt smelled like vomit from my episode on the stairs before we left home, so I pulled it over my head exposing my pale blue bra for only a moment. Just as fast, I pulled the new t-shirt over my head. Gus was beside the car now, smiling at me. He winked. My face reddened. The cowboy got into the front passenger seat at the same time Boggs slid into the driver’s position. He took off his felt cowboy hat and set it between the two front seats.
“We just filled the tank,” said Boggs. “We’re headed east toward the mountains, hoping to cross the valley via Highway 2.”
Gus nodded. “To head that way we’d have to go south first.” He tucked a pinch of snuff into the inside of his lower lip and thought for a moment. “Everett’s overrun. I barely got out.” He pointed to the south. “See that smoke? It’s the prison. A helicopter went down right on top of it. Roads are blocked once you cross the river just after Marysville. There are wrecks everywhere, and these bastards are eating on people left and right.” He shook his head solemnly.
“Any ideas on where to head?” asked Boggs.
“I’d suggest heading north, away from the populated areas,” said Gus. “I have a survivalist uncle just outside of Bellingham. We can see about staying up there awhile.”
“Zoe, you okay with that?” asked Boggs, looking back at me. I shrugged, not really feeling qualified to decide our fate.
“Does she talk?” asked the cowboy.
“Too much,” joked my friend. I rolled my eyes when I knew he was looking at me in the rearview mirror. I rolled my window the rest of the way down and dropped my old t-shirt to the ground, where it landed in a heap. The rain was still falling hard. The car lurched forward as we began our trek north.