Apocalypse Asunder (29 page)

The plan was as sound as she could think to make it.  The next step was to do the drive.

It was only a couple of minutes to the Turnpike, and she took it southeast.  The toll booths were all vacant, and she saw repeated signs road clearing had occurred at some point.  There were disabled, wrecked, or abandoned vehicles along the way the same as she’d grown used to noticing along the major roads; but as she continued toward Orlando they’d been mostly moved off the road.

The pavement wasn’t completely clear, but there was always at least one travel lane that was available in each direction.  Twice she passed a particularly messy and large accident site, one incorporating numerous and large vehicles, but even there a path through had already been created that didn’t require leaving the hard surface and chancing the shoulder.

“What’s f-e-m-a?” Candice asked after they’d gone through a couple of toll stations.

“What?” Jessica asked, reading a sign that indicated Orlando was thirty-five miles ahead.

“There are signs on the booths in the road.” Candice said, gesturing behind them.  She was wearing her seatbelt, but had twisted her head and body around enough to see out the back window.  It was an effort for her to do this, since she had to hitch herself up high enough to see over the seat back.

Jessica glanced in her mirrors, focusing on the toll booths.  Sure enough, she saw large pieces of wood or something had been affixed to booths, on the other side of the highway.  The backing and letters both looked haphazard and rushed to her – definitely not the sort of thing that usually served as a highway sign – but she could make out the first line easily enough.  The others were reversed, and getting smaller as she continued southeast, but she took a guess at them from context.

“FEMA Evacuation Route.” she read slowly.

“Yeah, what’s f-e-m-a?”

“FEMA is part of the government.”

“Which government?”

“Ours.”

“No, I mean, like state or . . .” Candice said, sounding irked.

“Federal Emergency Management Agency.” Jessica elaborated.  “F-E-M-A.”

“They fixed emergencies?”

Jessica laughed, a short bark of humor, but without any real emotion behind it.  “Well, I don’t know about fixed, but they were supposed to help when things got bad.”

“Like zombies?”

“Like hurricanes and tornadoes and floods and stuff like that.” Jessica said.  “Usually.  But I guess zombies would be something they’d try to help people deal with.”

“They didn’t do a very good job.” Candice observed.

“Well, I don’t think anyone really did a very good job dealing with the zombies.”

“We did.”

Jessica shuddered briefly.  “I wouldn’t say we’re dealing with them sweetie.  We’ve been running and hiding ever since they showed up.”

“Yeah, but we’re alive.”

Laughing with more sincerity now, Jessica nodded in agreement.  “I’d have to say you’ve got a point.  When you put it like that, we’re dealing with zombies better than most.”

“What was FEMA doing?”

Jessica considered.  “Orlando is ahead of us on the road; and there are other big cities and towns beyond it, toward the east coast of the state.  I’d have to guess it had something to do with what that woman told us about; how they were trying to use Ocala for a refugee center.”

“It didn’t work.”

“Nope.”

Candice’s tone brightened somewhat.  “Since that was where people were going, and we’re headed away from it, and we already know there are a lot of zombies back there . . . does that mean we’re going somewhere that’ll have less zombies?”

“I hope so.  That’s the plan.”

“Your plans have been pretty good so far Mom.”

“Thanks sweetie.  Let’s hope our luck holds out.”

US-27 was well marked, both at the turn itself as well as ahead of time on the highway signs, so Jessica didn’t have to stop to consult her map.  The road sort of wandered back and forth on a parallel course to the Turnpike for a while, but then turned and stayed almost exclusively due south.

Most of the surroundings as she followed it were fairly rural.  There was a section shortly after veering away from the Turnpike that was somewhat built up, but only in a small town manner.  The businesses and roads astride US-27 were set well back – both from it and each other – and never closed up in the press of urban construction she was so used to back in Atlanta.

She tensed some for a while during that portion of the trip, because the zombie number went from occasional and isolated to more frequent and clustered; but nothing like the hordes that were rampaging through Ocala.  Once she had to detour off the highway through a couple of surface streets when she came across a group of several tens of zombies, but that and some weaving was the worst of it.

By mid-morning she’d reached I-4.  The intersection there had more of the hastily made FEMA signs, and Jessica was able to get a good look at them.  Definitely wood and paint, and they weren’t weathering the Florida rain and sun very well at all.  She figured in another couple of months some of them might be too badly degraded to reliably read.

But that didn’t concern Jessica.  What did was I-4 could have been a place where wrecked and traffic-jammed cars might’ve supplied a fresh source of zombies to obstruct her path.  There were some wandering around, but nothing that really bothered her as long as the truck held up.  So far, it was doing just fine.  In fact, it was burning fuel a lot better than she’d hoped for; way better than the SUV had.  She guessed that was as good of a trade off as she was going to get for having lost the SUV’s armored safety.

They’d passed a number of lakes, but south of I-4 Jessica started seeing a lot more water.  According to the map, this area of Florida was generally very well supplied with surface water.  It was heartening to see evidence of that obvious plethora of abundant water.  Somewhere in south-central or south Florida was a safe place.  She just knew it.

There was some additional detouring and back-tracking that came up, but the miles rolled by without a problem.  Shortly after noon she started seeing signs marked with Okeechobee.  Some of them indicated the lake itself was a certain number of miles ahead, but most merely referenced it and proclaimed some business that was related to it.  Motels, boating docks, fishing guide services; it was obviously the big draw in this area.

Jessica finally stopped in the middle of the road and consulted the map to get her bearings.  They were very close.  Now it was time to find it.

“Why are those houses on poles?” Candice asked as the truck slowed.

Jessica shrugged as she studied them.  “Probably flooding.” she guessed.

“There are floods here?”

“We’re either in or right next to one of the largest swamps in the world honey.”

“The lake is a swamp?”

“No, the lake is a lake.  I’m talking about the Everglades.”

“We’re going to live in a swamp?”

“Candice, please.” Jessica said, forcing herself to keep from sounding frustrated.  The trip had gone well, but driving for hours on end always worked out to be harder than it seemed like it should be.  And the zombie problems didn’t help make it any easier.  “I’m trying to think.”

“Oh.  Sorry.”

Jessica smiled briefly, but she didn’t take her eyes off the scene ahead.  It was getting late in the afternoon, and she was starting to worry about finding somewhere – even temporarily – to stay.  She’d put most of the last gas in the cans into the truck’s tank, and spent the past two hours investigating, and so far hadn’t liked anything enough to look closer.

On the map, there was a town or something at the northern edge of Okeechobee.  Oddly enough, it was the one that got to name itself after the lake; she’d stayed well clear of it.  It looked to be somewhat large.  Also from the map, she saw the eastern edge had a lot of development that ran right along the very lake edge itself; so she assumed that was going to be dominated by tourist-styled facilities, and saved that for last.

Circling around the western edge, she’d found small numbers of zombies – only a few here and there – but also no houses or structures she considered usable.  Primarily, the problem was everything was small, low to the ground, and often flimsy.

Since the beginning of the nightmare, she’d learned height was a saving grace.  It’d allowed her and Candice to survive the zombies that closed in after the car wreck back in Atlanta, as well as the one in Ocala a few days ago.  It had protected those stragglers Austin had rescued on I-75 when traveling to Knoxville.  One of the good things about zombies was they didn’t climb, jump, or fly.  They might make it up an incline, like a hill or stairs; but a wall or even a ladder shut them down cold.

The easiest way to be safe was to be out of reach.  And with just her to keep an eye on Candice, she needed that measure of security.  It was impossible – literally impossible – for her to stand guard all the time.  No matter how dedicated Jessica was to keeping Candice safe, sooner or later even mothers had to sleep.

But there was no way she’d be willing to do that in a one-story house with windows and doors that couldn’t hold off a determined pack of hungry zombies.  Much less more able humans who might set their minds to getting in.

She’d been starting to despair, until coming across this.  On the map, it was just a road that snaked its way across what seemed to be the major canal that encircled the lake, and went up a long finger of a peninsula that jutted out into the water.  The only reason she was checking it was because she’d figured the road went
somewhere
; that there had to be
something
here because of the pavement.

Her suspicion was confirmed by the collection of . . . well, she wasn’t sure what they could be properly called, but as Candice had said, they were houses on poles.  Stilts or pilings would be the term she’d use, but regardless it was – she counted quickly – ten houses all raised what looked like to her at least two stories above water level.  And that was the defining point; because each house was built right on the shore and had at least half of itself over the lake.

Each had a set of stairs at the front and back, and both sets connected to little docks.  The front dock ran a dozen or so yards ‘inland’, while the back was effectively just a little platform that looked like it was only a place to tie up a boat at, or perhaps fish from.  Regardless, she recognized both docks as floating ones; the big poles that jutted up from beneath them and went skyward to the level of the house’s first floor were unmistakable in purpose.  That was why she’d guessed the area might have flooding issues.  There was no other reason to build something like what she was looking at if it didn’t.

What she noticed though was how the area looked deserted.  No cars, no people.  The houses were all just sitting on their pilings with water lapping at them, and the only sound she heard over the truck’s engine was water fowl honking back and forth out on the lake.

“Alright, let’s take a closer look.” Jessica decided, driving forward slowly.  “Help me watch the houses as we go past; say something if you see people or zombies.”

“Okay.” Candice said.

Jessica guided the truck along the pavement right to the end, and saw nothing that changed her initial estimation.  Some of the houses were standing open, with doors swaying slightly in the breeze and windows left up to admit that breeze.  No one peeked out from within, and nothing showed up from without – either pulseless or breathing – in response to the truck’s arrival.  As far as she could tell, none of the houses showed any damage to doors or windows that indicated they’d been ransacked, or served as last-stands against zombies.

At the end of the road, she turned the vehicle around so it was facing back the way they’d come; then shut it off. 
“Now it’s time to be sure.  Can’t just look from the road; gotta check things out on foot.”
she sighed to herself.

She hated this part, but there was nothing for it.  Not for the first time she lamented the loss of the SUV.  The vehicle had been
so
secure, and made what to do with Candice at times like this easy.  That luxury was gone.

“Candice, I think this might be what we’ve come all this way for.” Jessica said, drawing the Taurus and racking the slide back.  “But to be sure I’ve got to clear the house.”

“I know.”

“The safest place for you is going to be with me, but you’ve got to be
careful
.” she continued.  “Stay behind me, back some so I don’t bump into you if I have to step back; but not so far back that you’re too far for me to protect.  And you have to pay careful attention to everything that’s happening.  You have to watch me so you can follow, but you have to watch around you – especially to the sides and back – in case something I miss shows up to cause problems.”

“I know.”

Jessica fixed her daughter with a heavy, serious look.  “I’m not kidding.  This is dangerous.  Anything could be in there.  I’m going to go through it as cautiously and slowly as I know how, but it’s just me and you this time.  There could be anything in there, no matter how quiet things look out here.”

“Mom, I know.” Candice said for the third time.

“Do you?”

“Yes.  Rule One, Rule Two.  I’ll be careful.”

Jessica held the girl’s eyes for several seconds, then nodded unwillingly.  “Okay.  So let’s do this and find out if this is going to be a place we can stay.”

“Together.” Candice nodded back.

She reached for her door, then stopped and made an obvious show of checking around outside the truck; looking from front to back through the window for any sign of trouble.  Jessica took a deep breath and checked her own side before getting out and looking the entire area over from the ground.  As she did, she remembered her ammunition constraints, and traded the Taurus for the Shield.

Quiet.  Everything seemed quiet.  That was good.  She waited while Candice came around the front of the truck, then led the way over to the dock of the last house on the left side of the road.  The boards seemed sturdy beneath her feet, without much in the way of creaking or groaning to indicate bad or old wood.  The stairs were similarly reassuring in their stability, but by that point Jessica was hardly paying much attention to her feet.

She rose up to the house’s level, taking the steps one at a time as she held the black nine millimeter pistol clutched before her in both hands.  The porch ran the length of the front of the house, with a handful of wooden chairs scattered around for lounging on.  Jessica checked the door – locked – then turned to Candice and pointed to a spot at the top of the stairs.  The girl nodded and stood there while Jessica roamed the porch from one side to the other, peering through the windows.

Inside, the house looked just as empty and quiet as the exterior.  She saw a minimum amount of furniture – all wood with earth-toned fabrics – that gave the space some use as more than just walls, floor, and roof.  It also made it easier to get a good look at everything, and it was vacant as far as she could tell.

Jessica considered how to proceed for several seconds, then shrugged mentally.  The windows had open storm shutters folded back against the wall that looked quite sturdy.  That made sense since South Florida saw regular hurricanes.  The shutters gave her an idea though.

“Candice, you’re watching good, right?”

“All quiet.” Candice confirmed.

“Okay.  I’m going to break a window and see if I can get in that way.” Jessica said, double checking the pistol’s safety before putting it back in the holster.  “You stand right there and keep watching.  If anything happens, run back along the road and I’ll get to you.”

“Don’t you want to knock first?”

“What?” she said, momentarily stymied.

“You and Austin always knock and make a lot of noise before you go into a house.” Candice said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Jessica kicked herself mentally; she’d just looked, not knocked yet.  “Yes, you’re absolutely right.  Thank you for reminding me.”  She was tired, but that was no excuse.  Mistakes meant death.  Stepping over to the door, she used the heel of her hand and pounded on the door several times.  She could hear the thumping echoing throughout the house.

Seconds went by, and she counted them off in her head slowly.  Patience.  Never rush a clear.  Nothing happened, and she knocked again even louder.  This time she moved so she could see inside one of the windows while she waited.  Still nothing.

“Hope that means it’s empty.” Candice finally remarked.

“Let’s hope.  Okay, here I go.”

Lifting one of the deck chairs, Jessica hefted it by the back and swung the legs at the window on the left of the front door as she turned her head away.  Glass broke with a musical tinkling, shattering and cracking and tumbling.  Awkwardly, Jessica used the chair to clear the frame of any lingering shards and triple checked that she hadn’t missed any.  The last thing she needed was a nasty cut.

“I’ll open the door from the inside.” Jessica said as she put the chair down.

“I’ll keep watch out here.” Candice nodded, looking around.

Jessica glanced around herself as she drew the Shield again.  The little road with its stilt houses was still calm and quiet.  If only it could stay that way.  Steeling her nerve, she stuck her head inside the broken out window and took a long look around the interior.  Nothing emerged, nothing was lurking that she could tell; so she straightened and eased a leg through, being careful about her footing so she didn’t slip on the glass.

Pulling herself through was a little more of a chore than she’d expected, but once she was inside she gripped the pistol in both hands and waited while she stood; looking and listening.

Rustic was the term she’d choose as best suiting the interior.  It was a basic wooden house, lumber rather than logs or something, but the
feel
was just . . . rustic.  Like it was built to suit someone from fifty or a hundred years ago.  Nothing looked necessarily old or in need of repair; but the feeling was not modern.

She’d call this the living room, and the couch and chairs were all antique styles that looked serviceable more than excessively comfortable.  Despite that, however, she saw cables dangling from the wall that looked ready to plug right into a television; and there were the usual electrical outlets spaced regularly around the room.

Peering about slowly as she waited, she saw a dining room visible through an open doorway ahead, with a table and chairs all standing ready for use.  On her right was what could be called a second living room, a parlor, or a sitting room depending on one’s proclivities; more simple and old-fashioned wooden furniture.  To the left was a hallway, with some doors standing open.  It was all clear, quiet, and undisturbed.

Jessica decided she could risk turning her back on the house – nothing seemed to be moving anywhere except her – and she focused her attention on the front door.  To her relief she saw a simple pair of locks that both opened from the inside; a button lock on the knob and a twist operated deadbolt above that.  They gave her no trouble as she disengaged them and opened the door.

Candice was right where she was supposed to be, at the top of the stairs.  Jessica beckoned, and the girl came inside, moving quietly on light feet.  Closing the door, Jessica hesitated, then decided to lock it.  But only with the knob lock.  That one would disengage if the inside knob was turned; but it would slow anyone outside down.

Slowly, methodically, she checked the house with Candice staying with and behind her.  The right side had the sitting room, a basic – if roomy – kitchen, and a surprisingly large back deck accessed via a normal door, not the more common glass sliding style she was used to, between the dining room and kitchen.