The Onyx Seed - A Story of Survival by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 27

Crossing into North Carolina, they wandered their way up I-95 past Fayetteville, Dunn, and Smithfield. Soon, Raleigh came into view on their right, standing like a distant grove of concrete, dead and alien. Save for a scattering of people at war with their own survival. Marty knew a city the size of Raleigh had to harbor survivors; every city did. But being prone to a high degree of both fear and suspicion -- as people tend to be -- none dared show their faces in the revealing light of day. They, like others, were no doubt forced to creep around in the shadows as their minds slowly slipped away into a hopeless psychosis. Marty occasionally glanced away from the road towards the sprawling lifeless urban jungle. The emptiness of its streets and buildings brought images of L.A. coming back to life in his mind. He remembered back to the darkened alleys, the scene at the county hospital and the overwhelming silence of L.A.’s inner city. The one thing he found more terrifying than anything he had ever experienced was silence. Silence can haunt the mind, concealing both real and imaginary terrors. It does not possess a sense of time and is able to grapple with one’s imagination in daylight as easily as in the shadowy, warped reality of night. Silence is the threat can never be conquered and feeds solely on what imagination can conjure. Marty’s attention was suddenly drawn to a blinking light on the dashboard, informing him that a tire was low on air. The RV didn’t feel out of balance or sluggish. Still, he thought it deserved investigation. He also noticed the gas gauge indicated the presence of slightly more than a quarter of a tank. By this time, they were north of Rocky Mount and closing in on the Virginia border and according to the road map, the next town was Roanoke Rapids. This would be their next stop for gas and anything they could find in the way of food and supplies. But for now, Marty kept an eye on the blinking tire monitor. A flat was the last thing they needed. And given their location, would be catastrophic. And in spite of having a spare tire, changing it would take time and leave them out in the open. Marty’s anxieties were, to some degree, put at ease by a road sign reading ‘Roanoke Rapids Ahead’. A sense of rescue in the form of a full tank of gas now lay ahead. Entering Roanoke Rapids, the nearest gas station was on the outskirts of town and was easy to find. But acquiring it would be difficult, given the lack of electricity needed to pump it. Marty would, again, have to resort to siphoning gas from other vehicles. Pulling into the gas station, he retrieved his binoculars and carefully surveyed the area. He thought that a town as isolated as Roanoke Rapids might be untouched by the infection. It was located on a major interstate and likely had seen a great deal of traffic and Marty realized that its location had been its undoing, leaving it standing as another roadside memorial, marking the demise of humankind.

After making a cautious study of the gas station and its surroundings, Marty got out of the RV. The sound of the door closing behind him startled Julie from a light sleep. She had drifted off somewhere near Dunn and was now rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Bringing her hands down, Julie looked up to something so startling that she was unable to speak coherently. She frantically stepped out looking as if she’d laid eyes on some horrific specter, newly rising from its ancient tomb.

“Marty?” she called.

Marty was clueless as to the reason for Julie’s excitement, having been focused on the task of siphoning gas from the tank of an abandoned car. Julie called to him again.

“Marty!”

Hearing Julie’s voice, Marty stopped and walked quickly to where she stood next to the open passenger’s door.

“You can’t yell,” he began. “You’re going to attract...holy shit!”

They appeared as ghosts, seemingly out of thin air, standing hand in hand near the corner of the gas station, just beyond the edge of the parking lot. Keeping his eyes on them, Marty turned toward Julie, quietly saying, “Maybe you should handle this.” Julie had no idea what to do, but being a nurse and a woman made her the best choice, given the circumstances. Marty stood with wide eyes as Julie cautiously approached them.

“Hi,” she said. “My name’s Julie, what’s yours?” The response was silence and Julie swallowed nervously while pushed a lock of her long dark hair back behind her ear.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

She suddenly hit on an idea, one that appealed to the base level of human survival.

“Are you hungry?” she continued. “We have food. Do you want something to eat?”

Now, the response was different as Julie witnessed an obvious change of expression.

“Come on, it’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you.” Her voice was calm and soothing, yet on the inside, Julie was wracked with nervous tension as she slowly made her way closer. She knew the odds of this chance meeting were next to nothing. But, she also knew that walking away was impossible. She was around eighteen and carried a small frame with long, straight brown hair with a plain complexion and an innocent face. Gripping her hand was a small boy who appeared to be three or four years old. As Julie made her way closer, the boy retreated behind the girl’s leg. Both of them seemed to be in shock with a gaunt, pale appearance. In her arm, she carried a small infant, wrapped haphazardly in a blanket, one of its legs dangled out at the knee. “Oh,” Julie said. “Is this your baby?” Getting close enough to pull back a corner of the blanket, Julie quickly discovered the young girl’s hands were covered with dried blood. More disturbing, the child she was carrying was dead. She peeled back more of the blanket, revealing the child’s face and chest. Its skin was yellowish-white, with eyes and mouth relaxed into a slightly smiling expression. Fortunately, its body was absent of the small bumps typical of the smallpox infection that had brought the world to its knees. Julie looked the young girl in the eyes.

“Can you tell me your name?” she asked, almost in a whisper.

The girl’s eyes slowly wandered down to the face of her dead child, as the small boy further retreated behind her. Her eyes rose slowly as a tear rolled down her face. As their eyes finally met, the girl took a short breath and spoke in a whisper. “Tessa,” she answered.

Julie’s eyes brightened as a smile came to her face. “Tessa, hi!” she said warmly. “My name’s Julie.” She pointed back over to Marty, who stood near the right front tire looking on in disbelief. He had come to a point where, in spite of his caution, he’d begun to think they would never meet another living person again, until now.

“This is Marty,” Julie continued. “He’s a real nice guy.”

Marty had finished siphoning gas into the RV’s tank and walked up behind Julie.

“Hey,” he said. “Can we talk?”

They walked a short distance toward the RV as Marty quietly inquired about the people who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

“So, what’s going on?” he asked. Julie glanced over at the young mother, who still held the small boy by the hand and the dead infant in her arm.

“They’re in shock,” Julie answered. “Her name’s Tessa. I don’t know the little boy’s name and neither of them seem to want to talk right now.” Marty looked back at them, focusing his attention on the baby Tessa was holding.

“What about the baby?” he asked. Julie’s face suddenly fell into a slight expression of despair.

“The baby’s dead. She probably gave birth in the woods somewhere and didn’t know what else to do,” she answered.

Marty knew they had to do the right thing, but his first thought was far from any moral imperative. With two more people, their resources would be used twice as quickly, and they would have to take the needs of a child into consideration. Julie read his expression like an open book.

“Marty,” she continued. “We can’t just leave them here.”

She maintained a whispered voice out of consideration for the fear and trauma Tessa and her young son had experienced. Julie had no doubt that both of them had been through hell and it was likely that Tessa’s young son had stood by helplessly, watching as she delivered her now lifeless infant. “Marty!”

She was becoming annoyed at his hesitant response as her mood became mixed with willfulness. “We are not leaving them!”

There was a pause as Marty brought his thoughts back to the moment.

“Alright,” he said.

Julie gave him a puzzled look.

“What?” she replied.

“Alright,” he repeated. “I mean we can’t just drive away and say ‘well, good luck’, right?” Julie hugged him tightly around the neck. “Thank you,” she whispered.

As she withdrew from him, he continued, “We need to get going. So, try to get them into the RV as quickly as possible, okay?”

Julie nodded and walked back to where Tessa still stood frozen, her son hiding behind her and the motionless infant in her arm.

“You want to come with us?” she asked. Tessa began crying while her son continued in his traumatized silence. Julie looked back at Marty, desperate for a way to gain their trust. Having seen her expression and knowing they should leave sooner rather than later, Marty was struck by with an idea. He rushed back into the RV, returning with two bottles of water and a package of ring dings and handing them to Julie stood back behind her as she held the items out to Tessa and her son. They were badly dehydrated and appeared to be starving. Tessa quickly reached out, grabbing the bottle and drinking at a rate that left most of it running down her chin. Her young son did what any child would do. Taking the package of ring dings, he pulled the seam apart and began gorging himself, covering his face from the nose down with chocolate and cream. With the promise of more food and water, Tessa silently nodded a cautious degree of trust. She looked down at her son who, devouring the second and last ring ding. For a moment, he didn’t show much interest in the bottled water Julie offered him, but that would change, even if great insistence was required. The young boy looked up at his mother and eagerly nodded his approval. Now, Julie hurried them to the RV. However, she was uncertain as to how to deal with the infant’s body. She didn’t want to take it away and simply leave it on the curb like a bag of trash. This needed to be handled with tact and respect, without causing Tessa any further trauma.

Having found a place for them to sit, Julie nodded to Marty, indicating they were ready to leave. He started the engine and pulled back out onto the interstate. As he drove, Julie stayed back in the RV’s living area with their new guests. She organized towels, washed clothes and more bottled water, prompting them to wash what was probably a week’s worth of grime from their skin. They took more time than expected, but time was a commodity they had in ample supply. It was during this process that Marty called Julie up to the front and inquired as to how things were proceeding.

“So, what do you think happened to them?” he asked. Julie spoke in a whisper.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “They’re not exactly chatty right now and I don’t want them to feel like they’re being pushed.”

Marty nodded his understanding.

“What about the baby?” he asked. “It’s going to start to smell pretty soon.”

“I know,” Julie replied. “But I want to get them hydrated and get some food into them first.” Julie returned to the living area where Tessa sat on the couch with her son sitting on the floor. The bundled body of Tessa’s baby lay next to her. Again, she pushed back the blanket, exposing its yellowed face. She bent down and put her ear near its mouth, wanting to be certain she had not mistaken death for some other condition. And placing her fingers across its forehead, the coldness of its flesh leaped out at her like a hungry animal. Julie knew death when she saw it. Now, there was no mistake. The child’s body would have to be disposed of. It was all a matter of how. Tessa would have to be fully cognizant of its demise in order to gain closure and witness a proper burial without the further trauma of denial. She looked at Tessa with concern and sympathy. There had to be a discussion. Resolution would not be possible without it, and they could not travel with a rotting corpse, no matter how small. “What’s wrong with your baby?” Julie asked. She wasn’t quite sure how much Tessa understood or even what her mental state was. So, her answer was critical in Julie’s brief assessment of her faculties. “He’s dead,” Tessa whispered.

Those two words were followed by an emotional cascade that left Tessa experiencing an outpouring of tears. Julie took her hand, and putting an arm around her shoulder, pulled Tessa in, giving her a shoulder to cry on.

“I didn’t know what to do!” she cried. Julie realized that breaking through the wall of traumatized silence might be easier than she first suspected.

“There were so many dead people! They were everywhere!”

Julie cradled her head and began rocking her back and forth slightly in an attempt to calm her. “Shhh...,” she whispered. “You’re safe now.” A few minutes went by as Tessa continued weeping. “Tessa, do you remember seeing anyone else? Anyone at all?” Julie asked.

Tessa did her best to clear the emotional haze that had filled her mind.

“We heard voices, people yelling and some gunshots. I took my little boy, and we ran into the woods. We must have been hiding for days. Then, I went into labor.”

She paused a moment to keep herself from slipping into a state of hysteria.

“I’m surprised no one heard me screaming. I prayed to God to help me, but I guess He’s not listening anymore, because my baby’s dead. I didn’t know what to do!”

Her emotions escalated as she, again, began sobbing.

Julie glanced down at the body. At this point, it didn’t matter how it died. The problem was what to do with it and with all her training as a nurse, she was in no way certain as to how to approach the matter. “Um...Tessa, sweetheart,” she began. She understood that the only way to ask such a difficult question was to just come out and ask it, knowing that the outcome would not be pleasant. “What do you want to do about your baby?” Tessa brought her hands up to her face as she continued crying.

“I don’t know!” she cried.

But in a moment of clarity, she lowered her hands and looked down at the small body. “He should have a Christian burial.” It was at moment Julie realized that the baby, who so early met its demise, was a boy. Tessa’s answer left Julie feeling more than a little uncomfortable. She wasn’t exactly a believer and had never given any thought to religious life.

“Okay,” she replied. “I think we can do that.” Marty sat behind the wheel with an ear to the conversation, dreading the idea of being involved in the burial of a child. He had no idea how to handle it. What he did know was that they would need two things: a shovel and time. But for now and with Tessa’s permission, Julie wrapped the infant’s body in a sheet and carefully set it in a corner. She tried to be emotionally detached, but as she took the tiny corpse into her arms, she felt her eyes flood with tears and it was with great difficulty that she managed to hold back any emotional reaction. Walking back, she noticed Tessa talking quietly to her son. “I’m sorry, honey,” she said. “But your baby brother’s with God now.”

Tessa took a deep breath, trying to restrain her emotions in order to be supportive of their grief. Still, the look on his face didn’t indicate a great deal of understanding for what had happened. Having continued to overhear the conversation, even Marty’s eyes teared up. Although he’d seen the human catastrophe of war, he had never found himself in the presence of this kind of pain. And having to shortly bury a child, he knew that he would have to continue as a witness to this loss.

Even though Tessa’s son was still lost on exactly what had happened to his newborn brother, his tears seemed to be more of a response to his mother’s emotional state. Still quite young, he was not yet able to grasp the reality of death. Julie decided that a gentle diversion might be helpful and put a hand on Tessa’s shoulder.

“So, who’s this?” she asked with a gentle voice. “I’m sorry,” Tessa began while wiping the tears from her face. “This is my little boy, Wyatt. He hasn’t been saying much since everything happened.” She rubbed a hand on his back, looking at him with an expression typical of any caring mother. “He’ll come out of his shell sooner or later.” She showed them to the bathroom, telling them to change out of their clothes. Out of respect for their privacy and to continue gaining their trust, Julie hung a blanket between the living area and the cab. And although Marty understood her reason for partition off the living area, he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable about not being able to see, should things suddenly take a turn for the worse. He knew that psychological trauma often generates a broad array of issues and instability and from now on, he would be watchful of their behavior, trying to stay a step ahead of any problems that might develop, always assuming their eventuality.

Having finished washing, their clothes lay in a small pile on the floor. The smell was unbearable and after Julie brought clean clothes for them, she took the top sheet off the bed and bundled them up, throwing them out the passenger window. Marty looked over briefly as she rolled up the window.

“That bad, huh?” he asked.

Julie began to retreat back behind the blanket but paused to give a quick reply.

“Yeah,” she answered. “That bad.” Finding clothes for Tessa wouldn’t be a problem. Julie gave her a pair of jeans and a top from the collection they acquired back in Savannah. However, not having anticipated the company of a small boy, Julie found herself at a loss for what she could provide for Wyatt. She decided to significantly trim up a pair of scrub pants. And while she was able to make them work, the scrub shirt hung very loosely from his small frame. After all, this had been accomplished, Julie gave them each a bottle of water. She took down the blanket that separated them from Marty’s view. Folding it up, she leaned in towards Marty and said quietly, “I can’t cook while we’re moving. Can we stop someplace for lunch? I think we could use a break.”

Marty glanced back at her and nodded. “I’ll have to pull over and look at the map,” he replied.

Having done this, it was only a few minutes before he’d chosen their next stop. But before they got there, they would need to stop for more supplies. The number of people now living in the RV had doubled and their supplies had to account for that. They would also have to pick up some clothes for Wyatt.

Staying on I-95, Marty drove past Fort Lee. Looking to his right, he noticed its gates had been torn down and assumed that, in their panic, people had stormed the base. Perhaps in an attempt to seek answers or place blame on a government that likely no longer exists. I-95 crossed through the inner city of Petersburg. Cities made Marty nervous, and he gradually pressed down on the gas pedal, wanting to get through as quickly as possible. He planned to stop somewhere on the northern outskirts of Colonial Heights, hoping to find a mall where they could acquire food and clothes. Entering the area, Marty found the landscape dramatically shifting toward the suburban. But until they were back amongst the pines, Marty’s tension and anxiety would continue to gnaw at him.

Finally, on the northern edge of Colonial Heights, they approached the highway’s intersection with route 144. To the right, an enormous complex of shops and high-end stores lay sprawled out. Its tempered glass shell caught the afternoon light, igniting it into a brilliant gem of retail and commerce. A large sign pointed to an off-ramp, leading the way into Southpark Mall. And although its exterior shimmered like the summer sun, its corridors, escalators, and stores were far from lively. This area, too, had obviously been emptied of any human presence. Marty cautiously drove the access road circling its spacious, palatial mass. As usual, he looked for any signs of human activity. Circling around to its east side, his eye caught a moment of distant movement from near the east entrance. Pulling off to the side, Marty grabbed his binoculars and focused them on where he believed he’d seen the movement. Alarmed, Julie stepped into the cab and leaned over his shoulder.

“Why did we stop?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

Wanting to keep Julie from panicking, Marty brought the binoculars up and put on a casual expression. “No, there’s no problem,” he answered. “Just taking the usual precautions.”

He didn’t want Julie to feel as though she was being ‘coddled’. At the same time, he didn’t want to upset Tessa and Wyatt. He didn’t like the idea of lying to Julie, but exceptions would be inevitable and this was one of them.

He raised his binoculars again for one more look around as his view fell back to the sight that, only moments ago, grabbed his attention. About twenty feet from the east entrance he watched two dogs tearing at the melting flesh of an infected corpse. A heavy layer of dark fluid had spread across the pavement and dried in the early summer sun, causing the putrid carcass to become glued to the surface of the parking lot. As Marty witnessed this grotesque scene, he couldn’t help thinking that if a dog was desperate enough to consume a soupy mess of decaying flesh, how far would a person go, now that humans and animals were forced to adhere to the same rules. Marty put the RV into gear and continued on the access road, arriving at the conclusion that it would be safer to park at another entrance. He made a complete circle of the mall and decided to stop at its west entrance. Although parking at the curb would allow him to get in and out quickly, they would still be exposed to the highway and thus, visible to anyone who happened to pass by. Even though this was highly unlikely, being this exposed made him nervous, to say the least. Still, Marty’s first concern was, as usual, safety. The larger problem, however, was how he would find his way through the mall. Obviously, every mall was different. Some being larger and more complicated than others and usually, the smaller ones were the easiest to navigate. However, this mall was enormous and Marty became concerned that he may not be able to find the places he needed to go. Stopping at the entrance, Marty paused long enough to survey the area through his binoculars. Seeing nothing of real concern didn’t help to ease his suspicions that someone may be watching, ready to exploit their heightened visibility. As Marty studied their surroundings, his mind slipped into a momentary, yet tragic set of images, whereupon his return found the RV in flames as Julie and Tessa had been taken captive. While Wyatt had been left for dead in the burning wreck of sheet metal and steel. The world as it had become was beginning to take its toll on him, in spite of his battle-hardened past. “Marty?” It was Julie’s voice that snapped Marty’s psyche back to reality.

“Marty?” she repeated.

Marty took a startled breath and quickly turned towards her.

“Oh, right,” he replied.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I was just taking a look around,” he answered. They stepped back into the living area and sat across from Tessa and Wyatt.

“Tessa,” Marty began. “I need you and Wyatt to stay here. Keep the doors locked and don’t go near the windows, okay?”

Tessa nodded and held Wyatt close. He was the only thing she had left and was willing to die to protect him. And although she understood why, she was afraid. Julie suddenly inquired about Wyatt, asking Tessa what size clothes he wore. After all, he couldn’t very well continue wearing cut off scrubs forever. The only thing Marty needed to remember was size ‘four’. Marty also assumed that Tessa wore a medium and would get as much as he could carry.

Julie assumed that she would be going into the mall as well, thinking the more help Marty had, the faster things would go. Marty, however, was insistent that she stay behind, telling her that if she got lost it would take that much longer to return. “You know that I can do this faster if I’m alone, right?”

Julie nodded her answer and as he gave her the keys to the RV, instructing her to wait no longer than forty-five minutes. If, however, they were approached, she was to start the RV and leave. “No!” Julie began defiantly. “I am ‘not’ leaving without you!”

Marty was beginning to become impatient. He knew that time was not on their side and the longer they stayed, the higher the risks became. “We don’t have time to argue about this,” he said. “Forty-five minutes. If I’m not back by then, you get Tessa and Wyatt someplace safe, got it?” Julie rushed to him and kissed him on the lips. She knew Marty was right and that he would always put their lives ahead of his own.

“You better come back,” she said. He walked back into the cab and as he grabbed the handle of the driver’s door. Reached under the seat, he retrieved his nine millimeter. He made a quick examination of it, being certain the safety was off. And tucking it into his belt, behind his back, he left the RV and disappeared through the mall entrance.

Finding the doors unlocked but unpowered, required a certain degree of force to open. Marty usually had to break into malls and stores and found the unlocked doors a bit unnerving. A locked door generally meant a place free of human presence. He had a rough understanding of the infection’s mortality rate, but he had to be realistic and assume that, given the unlocked door, he would not be alone. Now, as Marty vanished into the mall, he looked back at Julie as she sat at the window looking on in concern. Once inside, he was relieved to find the mall had been constructed with a glass ceiling. This would make it much easier to find his way around.

Walking into the malls spacious, humid corridor, his first goal was to find a directory, a map that would show him where to go and how to get there. And he found one within minutes. He studied it carefully, committing to memory two stores that were conveniently located in the same area. As he jogged through the malls abandoned corridors, Marty was struck by the fact that very few stores had been unlocked and made the assumption that it had been quickly abandoned, perhaps after the Presidents final address or just after the power failed. Either way, it appeared that everyone had made a very hasty exit. His first stop was a large department store. It was of the same chain they stopped at in Savannah and was arranged in much the same way. This made it easier for Marty to find what he was looking for. As usual, his first priority was water, and he needed enough for four. Most mall stores don’t have shopping carts, but Marty was relieved to see several rows of them just inside the entrance. He pulled one out from the end of the nearest row and like any shopping cart, its wheels rattled incessantly. He tried to move quietly, but the sound of the wheels became magnified by the stores vast, noiseless space. Having loaded the cart with every bottle of water it could carry, Marty started off toward the other side of the store.

On the way, he stopped near the store’s entrance, put the cart aside and picked up another. When he was finished, he would push both out at the same time.

But for now, he would make his way to the clothing section. He didn’t know anything about women’s or children’s clothes and upon finding the racks and displays of boys-wear, he simply grabbed everything marked size four as well as five. Quickly moving on to women’s wear, Marty took the cold nights and eventual cooler weather into consideration, taking everything available in the way of jeans, tops, and sweaters. Unfortunately, there was no winter wear to be had. So, they would have to make due once the season arrived.

When the cart was full, Marty returned to the store’s entrance and began pushing both carts out into the hallway. Considering how quickly he’d accomplished this, he felt there would be enough time to search for other necessary items. But halfway to the mall’s entrance, Marty was forced to stop by a sound he thought he heard. Thinking it was the product of his imagination, he continued toward the entrance. Then, he heard it again. It was louder this time and seemed to come from a place that had escaped the incoming light of the glass ceiling. Marty froze for only an instant, trying to determine where exactly the sound was coming from.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself.

He suddenly felt a presence behind him and turning around was immediately confronted by a man wearing the name badge of a sales associate. There wasn’t enough time to read the name, but what was obvious was the angry, somewhat detached expression on the man’s face.

“What are you doing in my store, motherfucker!?” he screamed.

His voice echoed off the walls and storefronts within the mall’s broad emptiness. He closed in on Marty with shocking speed. Launching a furious attack, he struck Marty in the face, driving him back a few steps. He managed to remain on his feet and continuing his approach, the man screamed at him again.

“I said...what the fuck are you doing in my goddamn store?!”

Marty assumed a defensive stance and prepared to meet the man’s rage head-on. He had obviously survived the infection and during the mass exodus from the mall and probably hid somewhere in a storeroom.

He had likely been there since the beginning and not knowing what had happened, became fearful of the outside world. Marty met the second attack with a high block and countered with a well-placed strike to just under the man’s left ear. The man stumbled to the floor but remained conscious enough that he could be engaged in conversation. Marty wiped the blood from his nose, mouth, and chin as he tried to reason with his attacker.

“What happened to everyone?” he asked. He thought that if he asked a sane question, the man might be prompted, on some level, into a moment of clarity.

“Who gives a fuck!” he yelled. “This is my store now, bitch!”

Marty quickly became convinced that the man was beyond reasoning with and had become a victim of silent solitude. Too much of anything can be detrimental, but an unprepared mind suddenly forced into a lengthy-term of isolation can quickly be led down the path of unrecoverable insanity. Only slight dazed, the man got to his feet, determined to continue his assault. He launched his hands at Marty’s throat. But as soon as he raised them, Marty dropped to one knee and punched him hard in the testicles. The pain forced the man to double over, leaving Marty with the opportunity for one final blow, and grabbing the man by the back of the head, launched his knee squarely into the man’s face. The man’s entire weight plunged to the floor with an audible thud as his head was the last part of his body to strike the cold, hard tile. “Look,” Marty began.

Sane or not, Marty felt the man had the right to know what had happened.

“There’s been an epidemic. Nearly everyone’s dead. Do you know what smallpox is?” Holding his groin with both hands, the man rolled over on his back, an expression of pain had overtaken his face.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!” he replied.

He slowly began to get to his knees. “Goddammit! I’ll fuckin’ kill you, motherfucker!” Marty was running out of time and before the man could get back to his feet, he drew his nine millimeter and pointed it at the man’s head. While in Iraq, he’d seen people forced to talk at gunpoint. He’d even participated in this form of interrogation until his conscience intervened. And although he had a good idea about how the infection began, Marty would always have questions. Now, encountering a survivor, regardless of his state of mind, gave him the opportunity to ask some of those questions. “Where is everyone!?” he yelled. In spite of his mental state, the man was acutely aware of the pistol’s muzzle contacting the side of his head. Yet, the intensity of his madness left him with little fear.

“What do you mean where is everyone!?” he answered. “Look around! Don’t you see them!? They’re all here! Ain’t nobody gone nowhere!” With this response, Marty realized that his attacker was well beyond the boundary of sanity. He stood feeling sorry for the man, knowing that he had to leave him behind and that his delusional state would certainly create a very real risk to those waiting in the RV.

“Don’t you see them!?” he continued ranting. “They all know who’s in charge around here! Me!” The man was clearly beyond help. But unless he presented a weapon, Marty would be unable to fire on him. He knew he had to leave and didn’t want the man following him back to the RV. It was just a matter of how to get away from the man without killing him. Not a moment had lapsed that Marty realized how he needed to deal with the situation. Diplomacy was out of the question and there was only one other option, one that Marty strongly disliked. He would have to render an unarmed man unconscious.

As the man continued ranting, Marty brought his nine millimeter up across his left shoulder. “I’m really sorry about this,” he said. Wrapping his hand around the grip of the pistol, he swung it forcefully, striking the man against the side of the neck. The impact caused his eyes to dilate as his consciousness failed like a light bulb flashing its last moment of brilliance before dying. Marty slipped his pistol back behind him, under his belt. With his nose still slightly bleeding, he turned and continued pushing the shopping carts toward the mall entrance. He had previously considered a return trip into the mall, but having encountered a survivor driven by the mental storm of delusion demanded a change of plan and Marty would have to look elsewhere for any additional items.

Approaching the entrance, Marty quickened his steps to a jog, pushing one of the double doors open with such force as to shatter the plate glass of both. With only a few bits of glass in his hair, he ran to the RV where Julie was opening the passenger door, ready to bring in what Marty had returned with. “What the hell happened to you?” she asked. The sound of shattering glass had startled everyone but, the first thing Julie saw was the dried blood clinging to Marty’s face and shirt. He began throwing the clothes and bottled water into the cab at a panicked pace.

“We don’t have time,” he answered hurriedly. “Let’s just get out of here and keep the doors locked!” After emptying both carts into the RV, Marty ran around the front and swinging wide the driver’s door, jumped in and started the engine. But just as he pulled away from the curb, the delirious man charged out through the empty frame of the doors that only moments before held two large sheets of plate glass. Running after the RV, his psychotic screams prompted a small panic within the RV. Julie and Tessa stared out through the RV’s small windows with horrified expressions as Marty sped away.

Once they returned to I-95, Julie hastily made her way back to the passenger’s seat and urgently inquired about what had taken place. “What the hell happened back there?” she asked. She attempted to wipe the blood from his face, but Marty waved her off and proceeded to briefly describe the events that had transpired in the mall. “Well,” he began. “I’m starting to find out what’s happened to some of the survivors.”

“What do you mean?” Julie asked. Marty continued to describe the man’s odd behavior, strongly suspecting that his mind was unable to keep up with the changes brought about by the infection. Marty also came to the conclusion that what he’d witnessed had likely become common among those left in a world suddenly devoid of modern conveniences and technology. He pointed a thumb back toward the mall.

“This is why we need to maintain a low profile,” he said. “This kind of thing can happen anywhere!” He’d become frustrated at missing the opportunity for a return trip into the mall, and they still needed more supplies.

Continuing north on I-95, Marty occasionally looked off to the right for another shopping center. Noticing this, Julie suspected Marty’s caution had peaked. “What are you looking for?” she asked. “I didn’t get everything I wanted,” Marty began. “So, we have to find someplace else.”

It wasn’t long before something caught his eye. He pulled off the interstate and into the parking lot of a small shopping plaza. It stood well back from the highway on the far side of the parking lot. Turning off the engine, he began scanning the plaza with his binoculars. The only movement appeared to be a breeze, wafting its way through a nearby stand of trees. Its leaves tumbled and danced in the turbulent air as it whirled around the concrete leftovers of what once had been only one facet of a seemingly endless industrial gem. Now, all forms of currency around the world were worthless and there were few people to barter with. And at some point, even the concrete memorials dedicated to the gods of commerce would crumble and fall to dust. Nothing produced by human hands was meant to last forever. Having seen nothing beyond the swaying of the trees, Marty decided the risk involved in acquiring more supplies was worth more than the consequences of trying to survive only on what they had. Even so, recent experience had taught him never to trust anything he saw, at least on the outside. Driving into the parking lot, Marty stopped at the curb in front of a small grocery store. Its facade was covered with plate glass and easily offered a deeper examination into its dark interior. Marty always found it easier to collect resources under cover of night, when it was less likely he’d be seen. Again, instructing Julie to keep the doors locked, he stepped out and drew his nine millimeter. He heard the driver’s door lock behind him while making sure the pistol had a round loaded in the chamber. This time, he would take no chances and there be no surprises. From now on, Marty would expect an attacker around every corner. Anyone who was not injured or abandoned would be considered the enemy. Not necessarily his enemy, but he imagined what would have happened had he been disabled by the man in the mall. Moving to the side of the double doors, Marty aimed his pistol up as his eyes studied the aisles and display racks. He peered through the windows, trying to see in as many directions as possible. After the episode at the mall, it would take some time for Marty to become comfortable going into abandoned stores and malls. However, he assumed great personal responsibility for those traveling with him and needed to be certain that everyone was properly fed and clothed. The double doors were nearly identical to those at the mall. With the power permanently out, their magnetically seal doors had lost their integrity, allowing them to be pushed open. Marty now assumed that, in heavily commercialized areas, almost any similar door could be opened just as easily. But his paranoia came forward as well, suggesting that an unlocked door should always be considered a potential source of trouble. And it was the soldier in him that first consulted his instincts. Marty would always hold a greater degree of trust in his gut than in anything else. Pulling the door open, he grabbed a shopping cart. And quickly roaming the aisles, loaded it with canned food, powdered goods, evaporated milk and prepackaged pastries. These items were so well-preserved they would likely survive the harshness of a nuclear winter. Filling the cart, Marty rolled it to the door and grabbed another. Avoiding anything that had already gone bad, he again jogged down the aisles. This time, he took a newspaper and a copy of Time Magazine, thinking it might be helpful to try to get more information on just how the infection got into the country as well as how it managed to spread so quickly. With the second cart full, Marty pushed both of them through the store’s outgoing door and up to the RV. Julie stood inside the cab after opening the passenger’s door. He began tossing the contents of the carts onto the passenger’s seat as Julie quickly collected them, setting everything on the floor behind the cab. Tessa and Wyatt felt compelled to help and began organizing and stacking items on the floor and couches.

Marty glanced around while pushing the carts back towards the doors and seeing nothing suspicious, returned his pistol back under his belt. Hurrying around the front of the RV, Marty opened the driver’s door and jumped into the seat. The engine started easily and Marty pulled away from the curb and back onto I-95 north. With Julie, Tessa and Wyatt organizing the additional supplies, Marty considered their next step. Once they entered a rural area, he would stop and study the road map for a safe destination. He would also make sure the gas tank was full before leaving the area.

It wasn’t long until a hotel came into view on the left, giving Marty the opportunity to gas up the RV. Driving into the parking lot, he saw there was only one car on the entire property. Approaching slowly, Marty was confident there would be enough gas in its tank to bring the gas gauge, at least, to its halfway mark. He parked next to it with the RV’s gas cap facing the driver’s side of the car. Previous experience had taught him that when siphoning gas, a tire iron was often necessary to remove the gas cap, and this was no exception.

Marty made quick work of prying off the car’s gas cap but was suddenly stopped by an overpowering odor. He cupped his hand over his nose and mouth while inching toward the driver’s door. Looking in through the window, he discovered a body that appeared to have melted into the seat. He also found a pool of liquid dried onto the pavement just under the vents behind the front tires. There, the smell was much worse. He stepped back to open the gas cap with the assumption that as the body decomposed, its liquefied remains had trickled down, ran through the vents and out onto the hot pavement. He had witnessed this scene many times yet was taken aback by the intense odor that seemed to penetrate every surface of the car. The nauseating smell left Marty feeling sick and prompted him to work that much faster. And getting back into the RV, he drove off with the window down hoping the air would relieve the pallor from his face and the sickness from his stomach.

“Marty?” Julie asked.

With the windows having been closed, the smell of decay had escaped everyone else. So, seeing the look on Marty’s face raised concerns that there may be a problem.

“What’s wrong?”

Marty continued looking ahead as he drove back out onto the highway and shaking his head slightly, replied, “Nothing.”

Given the look on his face, Julie found his response difficult to believe.

“Marty, was there someone in that car?” He glanced over at her, his face returning to its normal color.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Jesus, Marty,” Julie replied. “Was it that bad?” He still felt a bit sick to his stomach but was able to maintain his composure for the sake of keeping everyone calm.

“I’ve never seen it that bad,” he answered. “Everything just melted away.”

The conversation prompted the gruesome scene to reappear in Marty’s mind, driving him near the point of a sudden illness. He took a moment to swallow back the sensation of nausea while pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. And taking a deep breath, Marty gathered his composure for a second time and managed to avoid becoming physically ill. His face took on a tired expression that Julie recognized immediately.

“Can we just not talk about it?” he asked.

Given his experiences in Iraq -- at least, those he chose to talk about -- Julie realized that the scene they had just left must have been especially disturbing. Returning to I-95, Marty looked for a place to pull over. He needed to check one of the road maps in search of a wooded place they could hide in for a few days.

“That looks good,” he whispered to himself. Folding up the map, he bent down and slid it under the seat near his nine millimeter. As he left the shoulder of the road, Julie stepped up into the cab and sat in the passenger’s seat.

“So, where are we headed?” she inquired. Marty glanced over at her with a grin. “I think you’re going to like this place,” he began. “How does Pocahontas State Park sound?” His question reached Tessa, who was immediately drawn to the cab with an excited voice. “Really?” she asked exuberantly. “I went there before I had Wyatt! I’ve never seen anyplace so beautiful!” Julie looked back at Tessa and seeing the excitement on her face looked over at Marty. “I guess we have a recommendation,” she said. Tessa smiled broadly with the feeling that she was being useful, not just a passenger. “Tessa,” Marty began. “How much do you remember about this place?”

Tessa took a moment to gather her recollections. “Well, we didn’t go everywhere,” she answered. “But I remember where we did go pretty well.”

“When we get there, can you show me where you went?” Marty asked.

“Yeah, sure,” she answered.

“Fantastic,” Marty replied. “Looks like we have a guide, too.”

Tessa’s face lit up again, realizing that she was part of a team and contributing to the effort of survival. It wasn’t much, but the one thing she didn’t want was to feel as though she was simply cargo. Julie was glad to see Tessa opening up but thought her reaction was more than a bit odd, given they were still carrying the body her baby. She thought it was quite likely Tessa was in a deep state of denial and would not come to realize her loss until there was some kind of funeral. How this would be accomplished had still not been thought out. It wasn’t long before the turnoff to route 288 came into view. And traveling east, they found the road leading south to the entrance of the park. Tessa pointed to a side road that led off to the right. “Take this right,” she said. “Just keep going north, and we’ll get to the lake.”

Near the end of the road, Beaver Lake appeared on the left. A dirt road took them to its southern side and several campsites.

“We camped somewhere along here,” Tessa said. “It’s nice and quiet back here.”

Marty was very glad to have someone who knew the area and before pulling into the campsite at the end of the road, he turned to Tessa and inquired about the area’s wildlife.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Probably just the usual.” Julie turned around with an alarmed expression. “What do mean, ‘the usual’?”

Tessa was a bit surprised at Julie’s concern. She had no idea they’d been attacked by a pack of coyotes just several nights before.

“Oh, you know, maybe a bear once in a while. Sometimes, you’ll see a coyote. Now, if I saw one in the city, I’d be scared, but out here, they’re more afraid of us than we are of them.” Later, Julie would tell her about the terrifying attack against them at Santee State Park. Anyway, Marty hoped to spend four or five days in their new wooded home. And with Tessa’s knowledge of the area, he felt a bit more confident that they could avoid any potential problems. As it turned out, Tessa was a little more than familiar with the woods and Marty discovered that her knowledge went far beyond her memories of the park.

As a child, she had been raised in the woods by a father who felt it was important to become self-sufficient. She had been taught to hunt, fish, identify and track game. At one point in her life, she had given serious consideration to enlisting in the military. Then, she got pregnant and her life was put on hold indefinitely. But in spite of her mistakes, she began to feel a sense of purpose as the shock of her previous circumstances began to fade. Wyatt, however, did not prove to be so resilient. He was, after all, a child who appeared to be rendered mute by the sight of his mother giving birth in the woods. And being accompanied by the corpse of an infant likely added to the destructive experience he was forced to undergo.