Jackson had to admire the old man’s courage. Mr. Cranston couldn’t be a day younger than eighty.
“Anyway, I talked to some people and we think it’s best to get out of here. We’re planning on heading for the evacuation centre in Hayden. That’s why I wanted to come see you. You are more than welcome to join us.”
“Ya sure you can even get outta here?” Jackson asked. “The volunteer watch has got the roads closed up tight. Might not be so willin’ to let ya go.”
“If what Winston heard is true, they’ll be busy in the east end. We should be able to get out on county 28.”
“Ya don’t even know if he was tellin’ the truth, ya sure it’s even worth it to go?”
A scream had them looking at the crowd around the well. Looked like things were finally getting started. Fists were flying as bodies collided and took each other to the ground.
“I’d rather take my chances on the road than stay here and get looted by my neighbours,” Ian said, lip curled up in disgust as he watched neighbour fighting neighbour. “And even if the barricades hold, we’re gonna end up starved out anyway. So, you up for it?”
Jackson knew Ian was right. Hell, he’d been thinking the same thing himself. He wanted out of here and this was enough to light a fire underneath him. Still the idea of tagging along with the Coles and anyone else Ian had rounded up didn’t sit well. He’d learned a long time ago to never rely on anyone but himself. He didn’t do social circles or group activities and he didn’t think that would change, even at the end of the world.
Jackson forced a smile. “I ‘ppreciate the offer, Ian, but I’m best on my own.”
Ian hesitated. “You sure?”
Jackson nodded. “Ya be sure to keep a good eye on your wife and kids. Take care of ‘em.” He held out a hand and Ian shook it firmly.
“You take care of yourself too,” he said before turning and heading in the direction of his trailer.
Jackson looked back to the well and noticed that while the others were engaged in fighting each other, the pump was clear. He picked his way around the pandemonium and filled his water jug quickly before jogging back to his trailer.
Winston had obviously spread the news far and wide as Jackson saw more people running around, shouting at each other to grab this or that as they packed up. There was going to be a mass exodus soon enough and he had to get moving if he didn’t want to have to fight his way out of the park.
When he was inside his trailer, he went immediately for his rucksack and began to load it up. Some clothes, all the canned food in the kitchen, flashlight, blanket, soap and toothbrush. It wasn’t much but it was enough for now.
He went into the living room, zeroing in on the end table next to the recliner Gran had loved. She had always been in it, watching her stories, knitting, playing solitaire. He pulled out the drawer in the end table, moving aside Gran’s old crossword books to find the little Smith & Wesson she kept stashed there.
It had been a long time since he’d held a gun and the weight felt strange in his hand. It reminded him of the last time he’d held one and the downward spiral it had started.
He shook his head, not wanting to think about it. He stuffed the gun under the waistband of his jeans, putting the damn thing out of his mind.
The framed photo on the end table caught his attention and he picked it up, studying the slightly faded image. It had been taken when he was twelve, during the year he had come to live with Gran at the insistence of CPS. He was next to Gran, already taller than her, arm around her narrow shoulders and he was smiling.
He remembered how happy he had been then. That year had been the best year of his life and it showed in the open and honest grin of the boy in the photo. But it didn’t last, nothing ever did.
His mother had eventually shown up, sober and sad, talking about making it up to him. He hadn’t believed her but she had snowed social services and next thing he’d known, he was back on the road with her and he forgot how to be happy.
He stuffed the photo into his rucksack and took one last look around the trailer. There was a twinge of regret for abandoning the place that was so much of his grandma but he pushed it back. He was a survivor and he knew that he could not stay here just because he had an attachment to the place.
He didn’t look back after he locked the door and went around back to his motorcycle, his most prized possession. He had spent all his spare time restoring the thing, putting his blood and sweat into bringing it back from the sad state he had found it in. He strapped the water to the back and hopped on.
He drove through the park, careful to avoid the people that were still scrambling to pack themselves up. As he neared the main entrance of the park, he found several vehicles all bunched together. He carefully steered the bike around the cluster, figuring on finding a couple hyped-up idiots yelling at each other over who would be the first to get to leave, while stalling everybody else in the process.
He came to a stop when the screams started up ahead and the gunshots that followed had him jumping off the bike, letting it drop to the ground as he dove for cover. He pressed himself up against the side of a pickup truck, crouching low as the screams and gunfire continued.
He watched as a few people ran past him, heading away from the gate and towards the people who were drawn here by the screams and gunshots. As the two groups met, he cursed violently as the people were taken down by the people who had ran past him.
It was then that he realized they weren’t people, they were those
things
. The fucking sickos that he had seen on television before everything went down. They had made it to the trailer park.
His self preservation kicked in and he scrambled over to the bike, groaning as he pushed it back to standing and climbed on it. He kicked it into gear and rode back in the direction he had come, heading towards the garbage site at the back of the park. There was a gate there for the garbage trucks and he just prayed that the sickos hadn’t come in that way.
The park was in chaos, people screaming and running, vehicles crashing into trailers as panic set in. He passed the side street that the Coles lived on and couldn’t help but look for them. He saw Grace ushering the girls into the van while Ian ran out of the trailer with some bags, tossing them in the back of the van and closing it. Ian made his way around the van, ready to jump in the driver’s seat but in his rush, he didn’t see or hear the truck that was barrelling down the road at him.
Before Jackson could even call out, the truck slammed into Ian, tossing him high up in the air before he crashed back down to the ground.
The truck didn’t even stop, skidding past Jackson and heading away. Grace was screaming as she jumped out of the van and ran to her husband. Jackson gunned the bike towards them, any thoughts of self-preservation gone as he heard the screams of the girls in the van coupled with their mother’s.
But he came to a skidding stop when three freaks came out of nowhere and set upon Grace and Ian. Anguished screams came from Grace as they bit into her neck and arm, tearing off chunks of her flesh. Jackson pulled out his gun and shot one of the freaks in the head but he was too late, Grace’s now lifeless body dropping with them. He plugged another bullet in the head of the freak that had been gnawing at Ian’s face, not that it really mattered. Judging by the odd angle of his neck, Ian had been dead the second the truck had hit him.
Jackson turned away from the bodies and saw Audrey sitting in the back of the van, staring out at him with fearful eyes. He took a few steps towards the van and saw that Audrey had her younger sister’s face buried in her lap, out of the line of sight of what had happened to their parents.
Even at a distance, he could see the way Audrey shook. The terror in her eyes was like a punch to the gut. She knew what all this meant just as sure as he did. These two girls were on their own now. No parents to protect or take care of them when the world was going to hell in a handbasket.
He looked around the park but only found an empty road and empty trailers, their open doors swinging in the breeze. He could hear yelling and gunning engines peppered with gunfire in the distance. Anyone that was left in the park had bigger problems than taking on two orphan girls.
“Fuck.”
He grabbed the water jug off his bike, bidding it a silent and fond farewell before stalking to the soccer mom minivan. He tossed his rucksack and the jug inside as he climbed into the driver’s seat, looking back at Audrey.
“Keep her head down ‘til we make it outta here.”
She nodded, eyes filled with tears but she still tightened her hold on her sister who was sobbing quietly into her lap.
Jackson shifted the van into gear and made a U-turn, heading towards the back gate. It was wide open, the chain link fence hanging at an odd angle where someone had crashed through it. He remembered what Ian had said and headed in the direction of county 28.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, his sole focus on getting the van as far away from the park as possible and he momentarily forgot his passengers. It wasn’t until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he finally heard the choked sobs his mind had blocked out.
He looked back to see Hannah shaking violently in Audrey’s arms as she gasped for breath between wailing sobs. Audrey’s eyes were wide with terror and he realized it was her hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” Audrey said, her voice catching with emotion.
“Shit, she’s havin’ a panic attack.”
He pulled over to the shoulder and leaned over the centre console to face both girls. He reached out and took Hannah’s hands in his own, ducking his head down so he could meet her eyes and he squeezed her hands.
“Hey squirt, it’s okay. Yer okay, a’right? Just take a deep breath through your nose then ya let it outta your mouth. Like this.” He demonstrated for her, inhaling through his nose and breathing out his mouth. “Now ya do it.”
The little girl just continued to hyperventilate, not hearing him. Audrey grabbed Hannah’s hand and put it on her chest. “Come on, Han, like this. In.” She took a deep breath, the small hand rising with her chest. “And out.”
When Audrey inhaled again, Hannah’s face scrunched up and her tiny shoulders rose and fell. They did it again, the sisters breathing in sync, and soon Hannah stopped shaking, her pitiful gasps quieting as Audrey ran her fingers through her hair.
Audrey looked back up at Jackson. “Thank you.”
Her voice held such gratitude, it had him looking anywhere but at the two girls. “Weren’t nothin’.”
“Where’s Mama and Daddy?”
His eyes went back to them, Hannah staring up at her sister wide-eyed as she waited for an answer. Jackson took a deep breath, stalling for time as he tried to think of a kind way to explain what happened.
“They’re dead,” Audrey said, her voice thick with grief.
He glared at Audrey, that kind of answer would probably send her right back into hysterics. What the hell was she thinking talking like that?
But before he could say as much, she looked at him. The pain in her eyes was like a knife in his chest. That girl was hurting even worse than the little one. She’d been the one to watch her parents die, taking it on herself to shield the little one from it all.
He shifted in his seat as he tried to think up some words that would be reassuring to both the girls but he came up empty.
Shit!
Well, better to say something instead of just staring at them. Besides, there wasn’t much he could say to make the situation worse.
“Your Ma and Pop had to go away. They didn’t want to but they didn’t have a choice. That’s just how life is sometimes. I know that if they could, they’d be here with ya right now because they loved ya both a whole hell of a lot.” He attempted a reassuring smile for their benefit. “Before they had to go, I made ‘em a promise that I’d look after both of ya.”
Hannah nodded as she sniffled loudly. “May I have a drink, please and thank you.”
Wasn’t exactly the response he was expecting but at least she wasn’t hyperventilating anymore. He passed her the bottle that sat in the centre console and she took it and knocked a quarter of it back, letting out a satisfied gasp when she was finished.
Jackson wasn’t sure how much had gotten through to her. She was pretty young and confused. Probably a good thing in the end, made it easier for her to adjust, not knowing what was really going on.
The older one was the one he had to worry about. She wasn’t confused about anything. She knew what was going down. She watched him with careful eyes, like she was trying to figure him out.
“Did you really promise them you’d look after us?” she asked.
Probably smart of her to wonder if he was telling the truth. When he’d told Ian he’d be better on his own, that had been the truth. He could barely fit in with adults, how the hell was he going to be a babysitter? But he knew abandoning the girls was out of the question. His Gran would turn over in her grave if he even thought about leaving them on their own. He was bound to protect these girls as best he could, whether he liked it or not.
“Don’t really matter ‘cause I’m promisin’ ya now. I ain’t gonna leave ya two on your own. I’ll look out for ya. And first way for me to do that is to get ya away from the town.”