Authors: D. Henbane
He turns, sidestepping his way in front of the door, and sets his gaze upon the inside. The interior is clean and orderly. A tiny dining room table set for two, a single candle in the middle, and a bottle of wine. The small gas stove was clear except for an old fashioned metal coffee pot seated on the rear burner. On the opposite side were a single basin sink, and a TV radio.
Looking towards the back, he could see the twin bed, neatly made, a green afghan spread across the foot. He steps inside, the shocks of the truck squeak under his body weight, and reaches forward turning off the radio.
He opens a cabinet, it is stocked with food, mostly canned but a few dry goods as well. He glances over at the bottle of wine, sitting inside a small metal pale, the remains of melted ice cover the label. He opens another cabinet door, dishes and spices fill every available inch of space. Satisfied, he walks back out and motions to Amy that it was safe.
Amy sits down at the table, the vinyl covering squeals as her exposed skin slides across it. Haus closes the door behind them, securing the lock, and testing to make sure it holds. “At least the lock works.”
“Look at this place! It's so cozy and warm. So simple yet beautiful.” Amy says as she looks around the humble camper. Haus grabs a match from the box and strikes it, lighting the candle on the table. He turns, reaching over head and pulls the metal chain, the single electric light goes dark.
The candle lights the small dwelling surprisingly well, the comforting glow casting small shadows as it flickers in the slight breeze. “Have to save energy you know. Hopefully there is enough battery left to turn the engine over.” Haus says.
“Does it even run?” Amy says.
“
It has too. How else did it end up here? I don't think anyone would tow this thing to a camping spot. Even if it doesn't we at least have a place to sleep. We're out of sight and hopefully out of harms way.” Haus says.
A gurgling noise interrupts them, and Haus looks around frantically. He peels back the curtain corner and looks outside. Amy looks down bashfully before speaking. “That was me.” Amy says. Haus releases the curtain and lets out a chuckle, a smile cresting his face as he sets down the shotgun on the counter.
“That's the first time I've seen you smile.” Amy says her face slightly red out of embarrassment.
“
Not a lot to smile about these days.” Haus says coldly.
“
Sit down, you're making me nervous.” Amy says, the candle light bouncing off her young cheeks. She reaches over patting her hand on the opposite side seat. “I saved you a spot.” Haus sits down, and again the vinyl makes the sound reminiscent to a fart. “Gotta love vinyl.” Amy says sarcastically as she giggles.
“
Where's the bag, I am starving.” Haus says.
“
Just sit down, I will take care of dinner, there has to be something edible in here. You have had a long enough day, just relax and let me handle it for once.” Amy says, sitting up and walking over to the cabinets. She rummages for a bit, and returns to grab the wine bottle. She examines it, and places it on the counter.
“
A fine Merlot from the ten dollar rack, a true vintage. We shall dine like kings tonight!” She says sarcastically. She opens the backpack, removes two water bottles, and carefully pours the contents of the ice bucket into each bottle. “Waste not, want not.” She says.
Amy continues to rummage through the cabinets contents looking for something to prepare. “Ahh yes! Pancakes! Just add water, and a little heat.” She grabs the premix box, and searches for a bowl to mix it with. She places the bowl on the counter, fills it with the dry ingredients, taking the appropriate amount of water from the water bottles. She grabs a fork from a lower drawer, as if she knew exactly where to look.
Mixing the entire concoction took a matter of minutes, the batter lay before her in the bowl, the only thing remaining was fire. She found the knob for the gas to the griddle, and twisted it open. She strikes a match and ignites the flame. She waits a few minutes before pouring the batter out, ensuring that it was up to temperature.
One by one, each pancake was finished cooking, she gathered them on a separate plate, and once the batter was exhausted she shut off the flame. She placed the stack in the middle in front of them; she even managed to find a bottle of maple syrup.
“Thank you. It looks delicious.” Haus says his belly empty and ready to dig in.
“
Sorry. No butter.” Amy says.
“
It's the first cooked meal I have had in ages.” Haus says.
That was the extent of their conversation, as hunger had gripped them long ago, and they ate quickly in silence. Once they were finished Amy sat up and collected the dishes. She turned to the sink and twists on the faucet. A few dribbles of water trickle out, then nothing at all.
“No water.” Amy says.
“
Don't worry about it. Time to get some sleep, we can worry about it in the morning.” Haus says, looking up ahead at the twin bed in the loft. “There is only one bed, you can sleep up there I will sleep at the table.” He says with a chivalrous tone.
“
Don't be silly. Both of us can sleep up there, as long as your feet don't stink. Besides you're not going to get much sleep sitting upright.” Amy says, crawling over into the loft, and pulling back the afghan. She nestles it around her and fluffs a pillow.
Haus removes his shoes, blows out the candle, and crawls towards the bed. The darkness was unforgiving, and he uses his hands to feel around, inching forward in the darkness, never fully aware of his body's position. He reaches out again; his hand rests on something soft and warm. “That's my butt.” Amy says, her voice resonating from the darkness in front of him.
“Sorry.” Haus says and he lifts his hand and spins to his left. He places his hand against the wall, feeling downward until he discovers the pillow. He lays his head on the soft pillow staring directly in front of him at the ceiling. “For the record... My feet don’t stink.”
“
Haus?” Amy says.
“
Yeah?”
“
What do you think happened to the owners of this camper?” Amy asks.
“
Probably dead. Six months ago, I would assume they were in town getting groceries. So I'M Pretty sure they are dead, or worse, one of
them
.” Haus says.
“
If they were attacked, wouldn't there be signs of a struggle? I mean this place is clean. No blood, no bodies, not even trash. Maybe they are alive? Here we are, eating their food, and sleeping in their bed.” Amy is interrupted by Haus giggling. “What? I'm serious. What if they come back? I know I would be pissed.” Haus cracks up even harder.
“
Relax Goldilocks...” again Haus lets out a chuckle. “Seriously. If they come back we can just explain to them what happened. I am sure they will understand. I still think they are dead.” Haus says, shuffling around to get comfortable.
“
Haus?”
“
What?” he says quickly.
“
Promise me, that if it gets bad, you won't hesitate to shoot me.” Amy says in a somber voice.
“
I am not going to let it get that far, trust me, neither of us are going to die that way.” Haus says.
“
OK.” Amy says softly.
“
Get some sleep Amy. Good night.” Haus says. Thinking of having to shoot her was unsettling to him. He couldn’t help but think about how it would go down, completely surrounded by them, no chance to escape.
Would I have the balls to pull the trigger? Knowing that I could save her from being one of them. Also knowing by doing that, I would doom myself to becoming one, or starving to death on a roof somewhere. I seriously need to develop a backup plan.
“
Haus?”
“
What??” The tone of his voice darkening, as he starts to lose his patience.
Seriously this chick needs to learn to stop talking. Like I am penned up with a small child who refuses to go to sleep! If she is going to be this annoying at night, I will definitely pull the trigger.
“
Thank you.” Amy says, her voice growing weaker by the moment. “Can you do one last thing for me?” She says.
“
Yeah sure, what do you need?”
“
Could you stay awake a little longer? Long enough for me to fall asleep first? I would feel safer that way.” She says.
“
Sure. Just fall asleep soon; I am getting very tired myself.” Haus says.
“
You can hold my hand, when I let go, you know I am asleep.” Amy says, reaching out and clasping Haus's hand, her grip was surprisingly strong, as if she was clinging to him for safety. Haus was still, his eyes open, even though there was nothing to see but black. His thumb stroking the back of Amy's hand, like a parent comforts a child to sleep.
After a few minutes, he feels her grip loosen, suddenly re tighten, and once again fall limp. She had drifted into slumber, not soon enough, because Haus was drifting in and out as well. Satisfied he had fulfilled his promise; he closes his eyes, and wishes that he will not dream tonight. Dreams were never pleasant anymore and only caused more hassles.
Right before he lapses, a slight breeze of air crosses his nostrils, and a pleasant smell enters. At first he didn't recognize it, and he thought for a moment his mind was playing tricks on him. It was very faint at first, but become stronger over time. Amy had begun to sweat, and it had reactivated her perfume.
Maybe a dream wouldn't be so bad after all.
Chapter Sixteen
A New Day
Haus can see the back of his eyelids, warm orange in color, the sun's rays crossing into the camper. Seeping in from the corner of the curtains, forming an ever strengthening laser beam, crossing over his eyes, and warning him it was time to rise for the day.
The light invaded from every corner of the camper, too strong for early morning, but rather that of almost noon. The security of a locked door and a comfortable bed had lulled him into complacency. They had over slept. Haus rises quickly, expecting that by letting their guard down for even a single night had left them wide open to trouble.
His feet meet the cool linoleum floor; he glances out the corner of the window above the sink, expecting a group of infected gathering outside. The light was too intense at first; he had to blink a few times to get a clear picture of the outside.
Instead of a swarm of infected, he is greeted by the gentle waves of the lake lapsing on the shore, sparkles of sunlight shining each time a wave crested. A sense of relief calms his groggy mind, he reaches over head to wake Amy, but his hand finds nothing but wrinkled blankets.
He peels his eyes away from the window, spinning around to face the bed, his gaze searching desperately for Amy. His eyes dart back and forth, scanning the entire bed; he realizes that she is gone. He grabs the shotgun, visually confirms a live round in the chamber, and advances towards the door. Haus is stopped cold in his tracks, the dead bolt was open, and the door wasn't fully shut.
The door jam leaking light inside, as the aluminum door sways slightly open and shut, under the frantic movements of his body. The entire camper rocking with each hastened step, he raises the shotgun to his shoulder and kicks the door open.
Haus steps out into the open air, the silence is disrupted by a few birds scrambling from atop the campers roof. He swings the shotgun from left to right, searching for the first sign of danger, but an eerie silence falls down around him.
No movement, not a single sound, he stands facing the water's edge, ready at any moment to fire his weapon. His ears focused on the slightest disturbance. He stands there, his heart racing, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, completely unsure of what will happen next.
He wanted to call out for her, but chose to remain silent. He walks forward, his mind wondering why and where she had gone, especially alone.
Why would she make such a foolish mistake? Maybe I should just leave her behind. Shit like this is going to get us both killed.
“
What are you doing?” Amy says, walking out from behind the camper.
“
What the hell were you thinking?” Haus says hastily.
“
Ummm. I had to pee? I usually do in the morning. You can put the gun down now.” Amy says, one of her eyebrows cocked upwards, a roll of toilet paper in her right hand. Haus lowers the gun, shakes his head, and lets out a deep breath.
“
I just thought something had happened, that's all.” Haus says.
“
There is only two rolls of TP left, and I get all of it.” Amy says.
“
What? How can you just lay claim to all the butt wipe?” Haus says.
“
Because...” Amy says, biting her lip, and hesitating to speak. Hoping he will just drop the subject and move on.
“
I guess I will just find some freakin' leaves or something. Why are all the women of this world so obsessed about toilet paper?” Haus says frustrated, as he tries to walk past her.
Amy walks directly in front of him, a look of disgust on her face; she slams the roll into his chest. “Here take it. Sorry if I sounded greedy to you, but I think I have a reason to want it. I got my monthly guest.” Haus stands there, looking at her, confused at first until the words register into his mind.
“Ahhh! Nevermind! You win, it's all yours. I will keep an eye out for more TP and some other products for you. Jesus, too much info, too early in the day.” Haus says flailing his arms about. “I need to see if the truck will start.” He walks away, opening the door, and sitting on the driver's seat.
He positions himself behind the wheel, looking forward; he notices the keys are still in the ignition.
Well at least something is going right this morning.
He turns the engine over, the starter whines, as it struggles to bring the machine to life. Several rotations, he releases the key, and the engine fails to start.
The battery was already weak, and he decides to give it another shot.
Cmon start please!
He presses the key a second time, the engine spins, still no signs of ignition, but he holds out a few more seconds than before. The battery weakens even further, and he slams his hand into the steering wheel.
“
Let me try.” Amy says.
“
I can take care of this. Just give me a minute.” Haus says.
“
There is a little magic in old trucks. We had one just like this on the farm, used it to pull the hay rack around the fields.” Amy says.
“
We only have one shot at this, and then the battery will be dead.” Haus says.
“
Trust me. Pop the hood, and let me work my magic.” Amy says.
Haus reaches down, releasing the hood, and Amy walks to the front of the old truck. She reaches under the hood, opens it up, and leans over. She works for a few minutes, and returns to the driver's door. “I need something metal, like a screw driver or a wrench.” Haus looks around, and notices the handle of a screw driver sticking up from a pouch in the middle of the seat. He hands it to Amy, as she chuckles a little bit.
She looks at the shaft of the tool, noticing tell tale marks of electrical damage, and realizes what must be done. She had suspected it all along, as it was common in this model of truck. It was an easy fix, if they had access to parts, but the previous owner had just dealt with it.
“
OK. Now pump the throttle to the floor three times, and put the key in the starting position, but don't turn over the engine.” Haus complies, turning the key over, the dim lights on the dash come to life, and he presses the throttle down.
One. Two. Three.
Pausing each time, before he pressed it down again.
“
OK that was three times.” Haus says.
“
Sit tight.” Amy says as she moves to the driver's side of the hood. A flash of the arc caught Haus's eyes as Amy jams the screw driver between the two points. The starter turns the engine over, weak at first, but a subtle roar grows louder as the engine fully fires. The growl of the old V8 surges to life, but struggles to idle, and Amy rushes to the throttle linkage.
The engine sputters, and starts to stall as Amy applies pressure to the throttle under the hood. The engine responds, thrusting forward, and sounding strong. “”Pull the choke!” Amy yells.
“What's a choke?” Haus says.
“
Never mind! I got it.” Amy says, her hand manually tweaking the engines speed, as it starts to idle down, she gives the throttle another thrust. Each time the idle gains a little more confidence, she reduces her interventions slowly over time, and soon the old truck is running fine at idle.
Amy walks over to the passenger door, opens it, and hops inside. “A little magic and we are on our way.”
“What the hell was that?” Haus says.
“
I told you. We had a truck just like this on the farm. Sometimes, if you rub something the right way, it will work, even if it doesn't want too at first.” Haus places the old truck into drive, and exits the trees back onto the highway. The rec area was a little haven of peace compared to the destruction they had seen before.
Haus couldn't help but wonder if the infection hadn't fully taken hold further south, that there may just be some civilization just down the road. Real people who had managed to stave off the infected, and still lead a somewhat normal life.
Maybe the worst was behind them, and it will only get better from here on out. They had only encountered one infected so far in Kansas, and the roads did not have lines of abandoned cars littering them. They drove for another hour before either of them spoke a word.
“
We can't keep going south; we need to head east soon.” Amy says.
“
What road are we taking?” Haus asks.
“
196 it's a few more miles down the road. We can use it to bypass Wichita.” Amy says.
“
Is there a gas station close on that road? Running a little low on gas, just dipped below a quarter tank.” Haus says.
“
Yeah there is a little ma and pa shop about 30 miles into it. We got plenty of gas to make it there.” Amy says gesturing for Haus to turn. “Left turn here.” Haus turns the truck onto the worn out blacktop, its rigid suspension unforgiving to the many pot holes in the road.
“
Where is all that smoke coming from?” Haus asks, staring up above the corn stalks, observing the large bellows of black smoke rising. They exit past the corn field, and the open expanse before them reveals not one but hundreds of columns of smoke. All spread out over many miles, to the south of them, the fires burned unattended.
Amy gasps, placing her hand over her mouth “Wichita” she whimpers.
“Was... Wichita.” Haus says. His eyes focused on the smoke, not paying attention to the object ahead of him getting closer. When he does peel his eyes away, and focus on the road, he has to slam on the brakes to avoid a collision.
A voice roars of a PA. “SHUT THE ENGINE OFF AND EXIT THE VEHICLE!” Amy screams, ducking under the dash, only to hear a few gun shots rip past them. Haus throws his hands out the window and begins to yell back.
“DONT SHOOT DAMMIT!” Haus yells. Several soldiers advance towards them from both sides, guns held at the ready to fire, and standing directly in front is a soldier barking orders through the PA.
“
I SAID SHUT THE FUCKING ENGINE OFF!” His voice booming, with a deep hollow tone, one that made Haus cringe and Amy scream even louder. The doors of the truck were torn open, and both of them dragged into the road. One soldier kicked Haus, causing him to crash into the pavement, while another pinned Amy down, thrusting her hands behind her back and cuffing her.
“
GET OFF ME ASSHOLE!” Amy yells as she kicks frantically. Haus bites his lip as the guard secures his wrists, looking directly at Amy, giving her the impression that struggling would only make it worse. The soldiers pick them up and drag them in front of the man holding the PA.
He stands tall and full of confidence. Turning his head and giving a nod. It wasn't until that time that Haus noticed each soldier was wearing respirators, except for one, the grisly man standing in front of them. Haus noticed an aura of cockiness surrounding his captor, arrogant, and pompous.
He was a portly man, not in very good shape, as if he hasn't done much manual labor in many years. The gray hair peaking out under his helmet, gave the impression of a man in his fifties, and the faded tattoos on his forearm added to it. He stoops down placing his PA under Haus chin, lifting his head up, and moving his head in closer.
“
Just where were you folks heading today?” He asks.
“
Anywhere but here...” Haus says grudgingly, shaking his head free of the cold metal horn.
“
So you missed the memo...” A grimace crossing his face, he stands upright once again, and paces away from them, his back still turned he begins to speak again. “EVERYONE! Must report to their designated camp. Any individuals traveling unescorted shall be deemed a threat, and the use of force is authorized. Per executive order.” He says matter-of-factly.
Two more soldiers appear, each in full biological suits, carrying an instrument in their hands. The instrument resembles something an optometrist would use, two circular openings, a series of straps, and some wires protruding. The device seems crude, as if it was rushed to be put together, not a fine manufacturing piece.
Each soldier places the apparatus onto their heads, setting the chin strap snugly, securing the remaining straps behind their heads. Then leaning forward, peeking through the openings, making a few adjustments to the dials, and then pressing a button as a blinking green light shown into their eyes.
“
Look directly ahead and don't blink.” In voices that were muffled and mechanical from behind the respirators. “It will blink green for one minute, then it will blink three times yellow, and there will be a flash of light. DO NOT BLINK.” Amy tries to look over at Haus, her heart racing, but her head is jerked back quickly by the soldier. “DO NOT MOVE! LOOK STRAIGHT AHEAD AND DO NOT BLINK!”
The light continued to blink red, but when it turned yellow, Amy let out a muffled cry. The soldier again quickly grabbing the device and holding her head up, his gloved hands gripping her hair. “DONT BLINK!” He shakes her head a little, as if to gain her attention, his urgency made her try to focus.
The light was blinding, as they both jerked back violently, in a vain attempt to escape it. The soldiers stood still watching closely, as the machines began to beep. Confused, Haus tries to stand, only to be greeted with a butt stock to his back. The pain surged through his body as he fell forward.