I was no different.
I didn’t want to kill Leah again. My choice was gone, I didn’t have one.
She stirred some, then opened her eyes.
RECALL
3 DAYS EARLIER
August 31
There was a learning process, an educational window before the world shut down. Most people were too busy running trying to find a safe place, and they never paid attention.
We did.
After the insanity at the warehouse, we managed to make it home. There wasn’t any rash movement of Vee, like Bill had said, the streets were pretty calm. We actually felt relatively safe, only a few times were there instances of Vee coming after us. It was during one of these times, I killed my first one.
He was on our porch, the only one to make it up. Fearful that he was going to get in, I grabbed a baseball bat and stepped out to confront him. It wasn’t my slug of the bat that killed him. I ended up hitting his shoulder and he flew backwards down the steps, landing with a final crack of his skull on the concrete.
We had so much food, so many supplies. We contemplated staying.
For the first two weeks, the news played constantly. The fed us information and we learned it. The internet went down right away so the news was our source.
The Vee were their most violent when they were infected directly with the airborne virus. The virus caused the lungs to bleed, the bronchial tub to swell and the victim, unable to breathe drops where they are.
Within minutes they are dead.
An hour later… they rise.
The worst ones. Those who were bitten or infected via secondary route were more docile and didn’t tend to attack on instinct, they only attacked for food.
They all had one thing in common… they were dead.
Just after the television went off, Leah and I went into great lengths discussing what we should do. We really wanted to stay, at least until the chaos subsided and the world went quiet. Getting away and out of the city would be easier.
Then came the drop.
We heard the plane first and were worried that it would attract Vees. When we looked out to see if any were coming, we watched sheets of paper rain down from the sky.
An old-fashioned method of getting the message out.
The flyers were our warning to leave.
It also was the first official confirmation of Sanctuary Cities. Ours was number sixteen and in Morehead, Kentucky. I immediately pulled out a map. It was located about fifty miles east of Lexington and I could see by the map why it was chosen. It was easy to seal off the highways in and out and it was nestled in the mountains.
That was well over six hundred miles to travel. Though it was closer than Montana. Even though my vehicle was more of a wagon than car, I got good mileage. I had enough fuel, confidently, to make it nearly three hundred miles. That was half way there. There were places listed as transportation hubs to the city. Dates to be there by. Perhaps I could get to one of those.
Our Sanctuary City was scheduled to shut its gate and take in no more survivors after September 30.
With nearly a month to get there, it was more than doable. We couldn’t piss around though, because the flyer also warned our region was scheduled for Vee mass extermination two weeks before the gate shut down.
I knew what that meant. We had to get out.
There were a few cars remaining on the street, and I syphoned what I could from their gas tanks. I knew fuel would eventually be a problem. We packed our vehicle, I believed we were smart. We had enough time to think ahead, what we would need, down to the baby supplies. We grabbed one of those carriers that went over the back or chest, just in case we had to walk. We even stole the neighbor boy’s red Radio Flyer wagon. Never did we take for granted that we wouldn’t have to eventually move on foot.
That small hatched cargo area was jammed packed. With the exception of the fuel cans there was nothing we could carry and fit in that Radio Flyer.
The first day out went well and was pretty easy. Avoiding the highways, we took mostly back roads and made quite a bit of distance.
We saw a lot of Vee. As we drove by them they’d extend their arms like dead hitchhikers.
We didn’t however see people.
None that were alive, anyway.
Had they all died, or were they tucked away safely in a sanctuary city? Admittedly, Leah and I were behind the eight ball. We stayed when others pulled out.
I thought for sure that somewhere around Interstate 68 we’d hit some free and clear roadway. From a distance, it looked good, but when we actually drove the highway, we saw how bad things were.
One side of the highway was at a standstill. I stepped out to take a look at the sea of abandoned cars.
But they weren’t really abandoned. The smell of rotting flesh filled the air and the humidity made it worse. Body parts strewn across the road. Partially eaten corpses were half out of their cars. Probably bitten and beaten down when they attempted to flee.
“What now?” Leah asked. “Turn around?”
I shielded my eyes from the sun and peered around. The other side of the highway didn’t look quite as bad. That was the route we’d go.
Cautiously, so as not to cause damage, we drove across the wide-open median, making it to the other side. From there we got a good thirty miles until we had to stop again.
I didn’t worry, there were maybe ten cars.
After getting out of my own vehicle, I examined the scene. It wasn’t a traffic jam, but an accident. A large white pick-up was on its side blocking half the road. Directly before it, cutting off any way to pass, was a little blue car.
The rest just created a chain reaction fender bender. It was more than that. The Vee had passed through. More carnage was on the roadway, flies buzzed over the remains and I heard a slurping sound.
“Cal?” Leah called my name.
“Stay in the car,” I told her.
“What are you doing?”
“I just need to move that blue car and we can get through.”
“I’ll help.” She had stepped from our car and leaned against the hood.
“Leah, please. Get back in the car and shut the doors.”
“Why?” She lifted her hands. “It’s fine. No one’s around.”
I knew that wasn’t the case, because that slurping sound continued. I walked slowly through the line of wrecked cars. We could get through, all I had to do was move that blue car. Then my foot hit something and I looked down. Immediately, I was sick to my stomach. It was bloody, tiny shoe. Just beyond it was a doll, a pink backpack and more ‘child’ items. I wondered if they had been in the one and only minivan on the road.
As I passed it, I saw the door was open and I promised myself I wouldn’t look. That was until I realized that was where the slurping sound came from.
I paused only a second, looking side-eyed into the van.
Inside was a child, a boy of maybe eight. His hair was probably light, but it was hard to tell with the blood matted to some of it. His face was gray with purple spots and streaks of veins, his eyes translucent. He held in his hand some sort of organ and he gnawed and slurped it like corn on the cob. When he saw me, he lifted his eyes and snarled at me.
I kept on walking.
From what we heard on the news, an eating Vee was a safe Vee until they needed more food.
He was preoccupied and that blue car was right there.
I approached the car, listening for the slurping in case it stopped. The driver’s door was open, there was no one inside and the key was in the ignition. After checking back to make sure van boy wasn’t coming, I tried to start the car.