Of Sudden Origin (Of Sudden Origin Saga Book 1) Page 26

  Ben said, “Beyond the tree line over there is the Canada Road. Moscow village is just down to the right, Bingham just south of them. There’s a fair amount of folks that lived in Bingham. No telling about demons, but Lord knows they had their fair share of sinners. Canada Road follows the Kennebec for a fair piece up to The Forks anyway, then away from water. Next town up the way from here is Caratunk. Mother-in-law lives in Caratunk.” As he said this he spit on the ground.

  Aaron not being able to help himself from sticking it to the Jesus lover, said, “Demons and sinners aside, we should check the town for some staples, right?”

  They all looked to Susan who found herself in charge again. “Well, clearly we are not going to walk to Canada with our current food supply as it is. It would be good to find some sort of portable shelter or at least some blankets. Of course a working motor vehicle or two wouldn’t hurt.”

  They could see the road pretty well. It was clogged with burned abandoned cars and trucks. The final push out of the country had turned into the greatest gridlock in history. For most people it was easier to walk.

  Decker said, “No way we’re going to be driving up that road, even if we find a working anything.”

  Nikki spoke up, “May I make a suggestion, Ma’am?”

  “Susan.”

  “Sorry, Susan. The generating plant or whatever it is over there seems like a good place to rest up. We could probably break in and use it for shelter. It’s far enough back from anything to be able to keep an eye out for an ambush. I say we go over there, make ourselves at home. Then Jon and I, and maybe Ben, can scout out the town and see what we see.”

  Susan looked at the others. “Anyone got a problem with that idea?” No one spoke up. “It’s settled then. Lead on Nikki.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Home Sweet Home

  The dam’s transformer building had a large sign on the door explaining the dangers of the high voltage within and was backed up by the sound of a steady hum. There was also a thick brass padlock on a heavy hasp. They couldn’t shoot it off. The noise would be like ringing a dinner bell. They tried a nearby rock first, but the banging made a loud metal echo after each beat and they all winced while looking around like frightened rabbits. The lock was built to discourage just this kind of assault and after several tries the rock just broke apart in Jon’s hands. There was nothing lying around for leverage and so they all stared at the door with defeated frustration.

  Susan said, “Maybe we go with plan B.”

  “Which is?” asked Aaron, his voice trembling with accusation.

  “That house over by the road didn’t burn. Maybe there’s food. It’s not near any other houses. It’s certainly shelter.”

  The rain had picked up in intensity and the group looked pretty miserable. Amanda shivered against her father. Teddy made it look like he was trying to warm her from the other side, but really he was just trying to warm himself.

  Nikki said, “Houses are hard to defend. Lots of ways to break in.”

  They took a vote and agreed to check out the house. The dammed up river behind it and the open road in front of it, had allowed its roof to avoid the storm of embers that had laid waste to the few other buildings they could see.

  Nikki, Jon and Ben went first with the rest of the group hanging back a hundred feet or so. The dam was narrow and therefore more easily defended. Should things go south, the plan was to run there and make a stand.

  If one avoided looking at the decimation that surrounded it, the house was charming enough in a weather-stained sort of way. It was a simple two-story affair with the upper level mostly devoted to a steeply sloped galvanized steel roof. It had a separate garage that had burned. There was no evidence of a car inside. There was a much abused lawn tractor parked in the center of the front lawn and a laundry line was fixed between two posts on the side.

  The windows appeared to be intact and the scouts were feeling hopeful until they reached the front. The door stood wide open. Certainly an invitation to any infected taking shelter. Nikki went in first, followed by Jon, then Ben. The men followed Nikki's lead on how to clear a room. Jon was happily surprised that house clearing was second nature to him. It was common sense, really – enter cautiously.

  It was a small house with a simple layout, living room, den, kitchen, dining and lavatory. Judging from the photos of generations of families that lined the central hall, it was a grandparent’s house. A framed crocheted “Home Sweet Home” completed the picture. Jon ducked as a fly made a beeline toward his face and then continued out the door.

  When Nikki took the first step to go upstairs, it gave out a tremendous creek and they all winced, pointing their weapons at the landing above. No mad drooling grandmas came rushing from any doors. They stayed in a line as they moved up, their guns covering the upper banister, the spaces between the spindles offering them a view of all of the doors; two were closed, one was open. They chose the open door first and Nikki stepped back almost immediately with revulsion on her face.

  “Christ, I’ll never get used to that.”

  Jon looked past her and saw the remains of a blood bath on a queen size bed. It was difficult to make out the details of the gruesome scene; primarily dried blood and mixed up bones. Two skulls with part of their faces and most of their grey hair intact, said grandma and grandpa were long digested by now. Even the flies had finished their work, with only a scattered few buzzing about – the bulk of them were piled on the windowsills, dead from starvation.

  A check of the other rooms found nothing more than a second bedroom, sewing room, bath and an attic space of sorts. The Fiends had come and gone. Ben found a note on the dresser of the master bedroom.

  Darling Ones,

  Your Grampy and I have chosen to go with God. We know that in his mercy he will forgive us the sin of taking our own lives. We are too old to run from this holocaust and prefer to remember the world as it was before.

  Know that we love you all so very much and we pray that you will have time left on this earth to enjoy the wonders that it can still offer. May you remain safe and sound. Should that not be possible, know that we will be waiting for you on the other side. May the world know peace once more.

  Love,

  Grammy

  On the floor an empty bottle of sleeping pills and two empty pints of whiskey showed the choice of exit. They closed the bedroom door, giving the couple back their tomb. A check of the kitchen revealed a working refrigerator stocked with mold-covered vegetables and assorted pickled condiments. The cabinets were thinly but evenly stocked with canned foods, rice and dried pasta. There was plenty to eat. Apparently, the healthy who had rushed past this place in their urgency to get out, had given it no thought.

  Ben fetched the rest of the group while Jon and Nikki took lookout, pulling down the window shades and closing the front door. Just for the heck of it, he picked up the telephone to see if there was a dial tone. It was an odd sensation to pick up a phone and hear nothing on the line. The hunk of plastic, which had always represented life at the other end, was just a dead thing now, like the town, like the whole country. It made him sad and he wished that he hadn’t touched it.

  They ate well to the point of bloated bellies and then everyone decided to make camp in the living room. The upstairs and its terrible tale kept them all downstairs anyway. Only the people on watch would use the rooms up there, the view being better. Though there was daylight left, it was decided that it would be prudent, given their exhaustion, that they sleep in the house for one night. There was no knowing where or when they would find shelter like this again. The adults took turns on watch. Two would sit in the windows upstairs that faced up and down the road. It would change every two hours so there would be no chance of someone nodding off.

  The night came and went without incident, and, in the early dawn hours, they all gathered for breakfast. Christy and Tran decided on a contest: who could make the tastiest breakfast treat with the limited ingredients on hand? I
t was agreed that Christy’s Bisquick muffins with diced cornichon pickles and raisins were surprisingly good. Tran’s rice cakes with ketchup… not so much.

  With the meal complete, they forced themselves back to reality.

  “Obviously a vehicle or two would be very helpful,” said Aaron. “Without the competition from other desperate drivers, we might be able to weave our way around a lot of the mess out there.”

  “I hate to break it to you, buddy,” said Decker, “but did you look at the offerings on the lot? Fireball dominoes seems to have put the transportation option off the table.”

  “Don’t be such a pessimist, Rick. We could still find something, just like we found this house.”

  Susan, choosing to ignore this exchange said, “It couldn’t hurt to have some more clothes.”

  Tran paced the room. “Well, the clothes in this house might fit a few of us, but if we assume that there’s no transportation option, and we’re going to be on the road for several days, we could use some camping gear, back packs to carry food, tents, cook stove.”

  Aaron rolled his eyes, “Since we’re apparently indulging in fantasy, let’s just head on over to Camping World. I’m sure every Maine town has one.”

  Ben said, without irony, “Only store around here is down the road in Bingham. General store, but I’m sure it’s cleaned out. Good chance of meeting demons in a big town like that.”

  Jon smiled at Ben’s parochialism and said, “We hunt for a car or two, hopefully with full tanks of gas. We find that and we’re on our way.”

  “We could ride bikes,” said Teddy.

  Jon smiled, “Not a bad idea, sport. If we can’t find a powered vehicle, we’ll round up some pedals.”

  “He doesn’t like to be called sport,” said Amanda. “It’s condescending.”

  Everyone chuckled at this and Jon apologized. “Sorry, Teddy. It’s still a good idea.”

  Jon and Nikki volunteered again for the scouting mission. They decided that Ben and his shotgun were put to better use protecting the house and the others. Tran would join them instead.

  A search of the house turned up no further guns. Apparently not everyone in Maine packed heat. They did discover that Grampy had been a sword collector. On one wall of the den, a glass display case showed off a wide assortment of blades from different eras. Susan, who dabbled in antiquities, was impressed at the possible value of the objects. Jon was impressed with a Civil War era cavalry saber and strapped its scabbard around his waist. Everyone, including the children, chose to arm themselves. It almost seemed quaint, people walking around with swords, but in reality, given the close combat nature of a Fiend attack, a sword was potentially a damn good weapon.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  The Scout

  Though he knew it made him look like a walking cliché, Tran felt surprisingly more confident with the Japanese Katana strapped to his back. This blade was shorter than a traditional Samurai sword and he decided it was probably used by some kind of Ninja. With the pilot’s pistol in one hand and the sword in the other, he felt like he could take down any number of Fiends. “Hey Aaron, check it out. I’m Snake Eyes from GI Joe.” His old video-gaming partner looked at him like he’d just stepped off a spaceship.

  His feeling of invincibility lasted about twenty-seconds after he, Nikki and Jon departed from the confines of the house and safety in numbers. Being out in the open again was a stomach churning experience. It was as though the very air itself was watching him.

  It was still raining outside, but the visibility had improved. The rain had grown heavy overnight, so much so that at one point it sounded like the roof might cave in with the weight of it. The benefit being that it had so thoroughly soaked the still smoldering forests that the fog and smoke had completely dissipated. The storm had finally slacked off some in the pre-dawn hours and had switched over to a steady cold shower as the three scouts made their way outside. The ground was spongy and muddy and they had to move onto the road itself in order to walk with ease. The homes left and right were burned to their foundations and the air was filled with the smell of damp charcoal, burned plastic and ozone. As most were heated with propane, many of the houses were literally blown to pieces. Some of the big high-pressure tanks had been installed too close. They had exploded with remarkable power, littering the road with assorted debris.

  The scouts observed no useable vehicles, the abandoned and wrecked ones instead blending in with the old rusted hulks that were already part of the landscape.

  “No bikes, either,” said Tran.

  “Probably lots of people took Teddy’s thought to heart,” said Jon. “Bicycle’s actually a really good idea.”

  “Why don’t you two shut it now?” hissed Nikki. “Pay attention.”

  A little further on, they found the elementary school saved from the inferno by its vast playing fields. A banner hung above the front door with a red cross painted on it and the words Aid Station.

  Tran said, “Seems like we’d find some supplies in there.”

  Nikki quipped, “Seems like we’d find a bunch of infected in there.”

  Jon whispered from where he was walking on the opposite side of the street, “The town’s dead. The infected have moved on.”

  “Yeah? So why are you whispering?”

  The drop-off circle in front of the school was strewn with bits of clothing, bags, and discarded suitcases. They stepped past this debris, keeping an eye out for useful items to pick up on the way back out. The front door was closed but unlocked. When they stepped inside they were greeted by a vision of unfolding catastrophe. The main corridor was littered with personal items: temporary beds, suitcases, clothes, toys, camping gear, everything a person on the run might need to survive, as well as a huge assortment of the mundane and not so useful. It was all abandoned. There were no bodies, blood or any evidence of struggle. It was just left behind. There was also trash - heaps of it. The smell was overwhelming. They cautiously explored further and found that the toilets were overflowing and inoperable. A classroom had become the new toilet with buckets and trashcans of human waste left full and stewing in the closed up room. Clearly, the refugees had been terrified to go outdoors.

  “God. The smell. It’s overwhelming,” said Tran.

  “Guess they have a Camping World after all,” said Nikki.

  “Why did they leave their stuff?” asked Jon. “If Ben were here, he’d swear it was the rapture.” He and Nikki shared a smile.

  Tran picked up a rolled sleeping bag and looked it over. “When the Army made its final exit, they were escorting every bus they could get their hands on. They were packed to the breaking point with people. No room for stuff like this.”

  They wandered the halls and looked in on more classrooms filled with abandoned possessions. The walls of course, were adorned with the typical décor of an elementary school: history posters, math problems, art, awards and the like. It was a cheerful building in what appeared to be a rather dreary town. Of course the town being burnt to the ground didn’t help sell the place very well. Nevertheless, the community clearly cared about its kids. There was pride in here, a sense of self-respect. They had offered it up as a place of refuge for friend and stranger alike. Now it sat empty, free from the fire, but a testament to the shear panic of the evacuation.

  Jon said, “There must be a cafeteria. With the electricity still running, I bet the refrigerators are working too.”

  They continued to the back of the school where they found the entrance to the gymnasium. There were three sets of double doors designed to open out in the event of an emergency. They were ominously tied shut.

  “That can’t mean anything good,” said Nikki

  Tran stepped over to one of the doors and listened, knocked and said, “Hello?”

  “Robert. What are you doing?” whispered Jon.

  “I’m seeing if there’s anybody in there.”

  “Why would there be anybody in there? They tied the doors shut.”

 
“You remember Titanic? Not enough lifeboats. The rich folks locked the poor folks down below so they could have them to themselves.”

  “You think the Army left people behind, locked up?” Nikki asked skeptically.

  “Only one way to find out.” Tran grabbed his sword out of its sheath –

  “No!” yelled Nikki and Jon.

  - and sliced through the ropes.

  “Why would you do that?” blurted out Jon, stepping back from the doors.

  “I didn’t hear anybody answering, did you? An infected person would have been pounding on the door the moment I knocked. We need to find out what all of our options are. Right?”

  Nikki hefted her SCAR and pointed it at the door. “Listen, doctor dickhead – don’t make decisions for us. We talk before we make choices like that.”

  “Fine. Sorry.”

  Jon pointed his pistol and so did Robert as he pulled the door open. A waft of rot and decay washed over them as yet another horror show was revealed. The gym had been set up as a temporary medical center. It was now just one more orgy of murder and mayhem. Many of the cots had eaten victims on them. Many were empty. There were other corpses in wheelchairs. Several leaned against the walls or lay on the floor, undoubtedly infected, as evidenced by their intact bodies.

  “Holy…” Jon was stunned. “They locked them in together.”

  It took everything It had not to show itself. To wait –wait for the Fresh Ones to step inside. It’s stomach gurgled in delirious anticipation and It thought for a moment that the sound of it had given It away. It squeezed Its eyes shut in frustration, held Its breath for just a little longer. Just a few feet, that’s all. Step inside a few feet so It could have a fat juicy meal. Then It snapped open Its eyes as It heard more steps.

  “Likely died from dehydration,” said Tran, pulling his shirt up over his face. He was immediately knocked to the floor by a male Fiend that had been hiding up against the wall. His pistol and sword went scattering across the waxed hardwood as he instinctively balled up into a fetal position.