Aftermath (Book 1): Only The Head Will Take Them Down (23 page)

Chapter 24: Home Comforts

John awoke to a noise he had almost forgotten, one that was so commonplace before the infection spread, and yet so rare ever since then, that it almost felt like a dream. It was the sound of a shower, a huge one, but a shower nonetheless, something that John was certain he would never experience again. Quickly he got to his feet, keen to investigate, and almost straight away caught sight of steam covering the windows in front of him, the main area of the building almost completely obscured by its greying affect.

“Morning sunshine”, came Donald’s voice as he walked into the side area through the central double doors, wearing no more than a ragged towel around his waist.
“You’re kidding me right?”, John asked.
“I turned the soap off, it’s just good old hot water, comes out pretty hard but it does the job, got me good and cleaned up”, Donald explained.
John simply stared back at him, unconvinced.
“Towels are on the side in there, you don’t want to you don’t have to, but I guaran-damn-tee you won’t get another chance any time soon, and believe me, it feels good”, Donald said, turning to walk into the office.

John shifted his stare to the main area of the building, the steam tumbling out of the open doorway. It was almost certainly one of the most ridiculous ways of getting clean he could think of, but Donald was right, it was more than likely the last one he’d get, so John slipped off the ragged old clothes he felt like he’d been wearing for years, and walked out into the steamy abyss.

*
      
*
      
*

“You ready yet?”, called Donald’s voice from the truck, which was parked in the main area of the truck wash, ready to go.
“Almost”, John replied, as he re-packed the supplies he had left behind during his run into Tomah, not bothering to check if any was missing, knowing full well that he’d be unable to confront Donald about it even if there was.
John was in high spirits though, especially now he’d been able to shower for the first time in months. He was well and truly ready, and knew that this would be the final leg to being reunited with his family, especially now that he had obtained enough food and drink to keep Donald happy for a while – the AK47 being the cherry on top of course.

“Finally”, Donald called out from the passenger seat, as John walked over to the truck, flicking the switch to open the gate as he did.
Over the next few moments, the building began to slowly fill with the natural light of the day, flooding in through the increasingly open gateway to the outside world, the town of Tomah becoming visible just a few miles down the road. It looked hugely different in the light, friendly almost, but John had experienced it at its worst, and knew it for the biter infested death trap that it really was.

“C’mon, got a busy day ahead of us, and we’re already late”, Donald said.
“How in God’s name are we already late?”, John asked as he climbed into the truck.
“Well if it were up to me we’d have been out at first light, but you looked like you needed the rest”, Donald started, “And you smelt like you needed the shower”, he added, smirking.
“Funny”, John replied sarcastically, as he turned the key and brought the Hilux to life.
To John’s surprise, the Toyota was faring well, its engine in particular sounding healthier than ever – perhaps rejuvenated by the long runs it was suddenly being taken on – and the fuel line somehow now well above the three-quarters point.

“You fill this up?”, John asked, driving the truck out of the building and back onto the gravelly side road that led up to the I94.
“Yeah, used up the last of the canisters”, Donald said.
“Will it last us to… wherever we’re going?”, John questioned worriedly.
“Should do just about, but we’ve got a few more stops along the way, we can pick u-“.
The truck skidded to a halt on the stone coated, uneven road.
“A few more stops!?”, John barked, “I just got you some god damn food, I got you some god damn water, and a god damn weapon
WITH
ammo too, what exactly do you need from
‘A few more stops’
!?”, he demanded.
“Whoa, keep on like that and you’re gonna lose your navigator”, Donald replied.
“My
navigator
has given me enough near death experiences to last me a lifetime, I think I’d find a way to get by without him”, John explained.
“Oh yeah?”, Donald asked, “You gonna find a way to find your family too?”.
John stared back at Donald, that most recent comment filling him with rage that was visibly about to spill over.

Seeing this, Donald decided to break the silence first, conscious that although he had enough to make John do almost anything, he knew by now that eventually, John would draw a line, and the way in which he drew it might be a little worse than just saying no.
“Alright”, Donald started, looking away from John’s face to the windscreen in front, “We do one more stop, a good one, and then I take you there, deal?”, he asked.
John said nothing, still staring back at him, his rage refusing to subside while he mulled over the offer, before eventually replying.
“Fine”, he said, looking away from Donald, and starting once more to drive, “Where?”, he asked.
“Madison, couple hours South-East of here before, probably take about four or five now, then it’s a straight run to your family”, he said.

The rage suddenly lifted from John, his mind now filled instead with thoughts of his family reunion, the idea that he might see them again by the end of the day blocking out every ounce of anger he had felt just moments ago.
“Are they long from Madison?”, John asked.
“You know I ain’t gonna tell you that Parker”, Donald replied, “You’ll find out soon enough”.

*
      
*
      
*

As the pair drove along the highways ahead – switching from the I94 to the I90 and back again as they did – the roads became less and less predictable. Often they would cover twenty or so miles without another vehicle in view, but occasionally, they’d hit another crash-site, and suddenly their progress would be cut down dramatically, as they attempted to navigate around – or sometimes through – the complicated messes of entangled metal left behind by the hasty abandonment of vehicles, something that had become so very common. Much to John’s disappointment, the problem even began to intensify the further they went, something he attributed to their proximity to Chicago, that illusive city that the passing road signs indicated they were getting closer and closer to.

Ever since Donald had first mentioned Chicago, John had wondered if his family might in fact be there. So far though, Donald had made only minimal effort to check on the broadcasts, something John was sure he would have been doing if that was in fact their destination, and so he had discarded it as an option. Still though, it remained the most likely place for John to take his family once they were reunited, an idea that was solidified by the radio, as John switched it on once more to confirm that the message had been updated.

“You really want to make it to Chicago one day huh?”, Donald asked.
“From what I can tell it’s about the best option”, John replied.
“Well let’s say it’s the best place to be in the whole world…for you anyway. How you figure you’ll get there? They got walls Parker, big walls”, Donald explained.
“I’ll find a way”, John insisted.
Donald simply chuckled quietly in response, clearly doubting John’s intentions.
“What about you anyway, what are your plans?”, John asked.
“Keep doing what I’ve been doing, building up supplies, touring between camps”, Donald replied.
“Don’t you feel like settling somewhere? Like Chicago? Believe me I’ve been living your life since the start, but first chance I get, I’m opting for something a bit more civilised”, John explained.
“Places like that don’t appeal to me, best thing all this mess gave us was freedom to do what we want, you won’t catch me running back to some oppressive regime anytime soon”, Donald replied.
“
Oppressive regime
? What were you before this, a convict or something?”, John asked.
“I did a couple stints down South sure, nothing major though”, Donald responded, “I just aint’ a fan of living under someone’s thumb, I like doing my own thing. It’s about the only good thing this new world gave us and I for one plan on keeping it”, he added.

John paused for a moment, as he slowed up ahead of the next road-block, his eyes looking for the best route through the stopped traffic. “What you do time for?”, he asked.
Donald hesitated to respond, weighing up whether past offences were really relevant any more, before eventually answering. “Assault, robbery, grand theft auto… stupid crap I did years back, record always followed me round though”, he explained.
“Any time in the service?”, John asked, “Seem to know your way around guns pretty well”.
“No time in the service, plenty of time around guns though, came with the lifestyle”, Donald replied.
John simply nodded, content with the small amount he had finally learnt about Donald, before turning his attention back to the road in front.

Up ahead the road straightened out, revealing for the first time much more than just a short distance, instead showing off miles and miles of mostly empty highway, culminating in a series of snaking bends that appeared to build up to a bridge, before falling back away into the distance. John had managed to ascertain roughly where they were, and so knew that the bridge in the distance marked their crossing of Lake Wisconsin, a point that although likely to be clogged up with dead and turned motorists, meant they would then be starting the descent into Madison, their final pit-stop along the journey.

“Want me to take over?”, Donald asked.
“Not with your ankle I don’t”, John replied.
“It’s getting better, healing up pretty quick”, Donald explained.
“Good, it’ll heal up even quicker with you sat there not using it for anything”, John pointed out, clearly unwilling to let Donald risk injuring himself even more by attempting to drive.
“Fine”, Donald said, “Just don’t complain that you’ve been doing all the heavy lifting once we get there”, he ordered, half-jokingly, before reaching down and picking up his AK from the floor.
“Jesus if you’re gonna get violent about it”, John joked at the sight of the weapon.
Donald simply smirked in response, as he wound down his window.

In this ‘modern’ day, few activities passed as ‘fun’, and even less were regularly available. A society wide dependency on technology meant that for most, the term fun went out the window when the power-grid did. For some though, uncontrolled and unregulated gun access provided many an ample opportunity for excitement, and no person took greater pleasure from it than Donald. Slowly he began to lean out of the vehicle, his AK held firm and pointing straight ahead of them, just as a small group of the undead came into view up ahead. Each body appeared to be aimlessly wandering from vehicle to vehicle, their ears aware of a growing noise, but their delinquent brains unable to comprehend just where exactly it was coming from, each of them simply circling their own little area, hoping to bump into the source.

Realising his companion’s intentions, John slowed the truck slightly, to a speed that was neither so fast it would disturb Donald’s aim, nor slow enough to put them in any real danger. His eyes simultaneously scanned the field of vehicles ahead, calculating the best possible route. John knew that there were few things stupider than wasting precious ammunition, especially when it was done as part of an exercise that helped them in no way whatsoever. In fact, what Donald was about to do simply endangered them even more, by filling the area with the sound of gunfire, and with it notifying damn near everything with ears for miles around – both living and dead – to their exact location. Despite all that however, it somehow seemed completely appropriate. Without the occasional reckless piece of fun he was sure both men would soon succumb to insanity, and so he said nothing to Donald, and instead began to slowly navigate the first sets of vehicles.

Within seconds, the bullets started to fly, their spent casings clattering down on the hood of the truck, some rolling across the windscreen or flicking back into the rear cargo bay, others landing on and bouncing off of the various nearby vehicles. Donald had obviously not used such a powerful weapon for some time, the first few shots recoiling the rifle so badly that his grip on its body was almost lost. After a few near misses though, he eventually got to grips with its power, and managed to bag his first kill of the day. It was the true definition of a walking carcass, moving at an almost standstill pace, ready to drop to the floor at any moment, and long since devoid of the energy needed to keep it upright. The bullet caught the left edge of its skull, digging just about deep enough to bring it down, the clatter of bones and limbs only barely audible over the sound of the Toyota’s engine and the roaring AK. The screams of excitement from Donald though, were more than loud enough to carry over both.

Over the next few minutes Donald slowly worked his way through what John counted out to be at least twenty rounds. Each shot was taken with as much precision as Donald could muster from a slow moving vehicle, and before long he’d managed to bring down a grand total of eleven undead. One even had the audacity to attempt standing up after the first time it was put down, but was promptly finished off with a second blow to the head. Eventually even Donald decided enough was enough, and so slid back into his seat, weapon in hand, a huge smile laid across his face.
“You about done now?”, John asked, himself struggling to hold back his excitement at the antics he had just witnessed.
“Almost”, Donald replied, as he looked ahead to what appeared to be the final set of vehicles in this stretch of traffic, a lone biter walking directly towards them from behind the confides of the many abandoned wrecks, “Got one last thing to try first though”, he added, flicking the AK into fully automatic mode.
John knew exactly what was needed, and so he rounded the final blockade of vehicles, before skidding the truck round to the left, putting Donald just a few feet away from the biter, who was still walking hopefully towards them, arms outstretched, certain it was about to feast.