Containment (Alaskan Undead Apocalypse Book 2) Read online

  Hoisting a .22 caliber semi-automatic carbine onto his shoulder, Dr. Caldwell conceded, “You’re right.”

  They went into the aisles and found some dehydrated camping meals and some more backpacks into which they loaded a lot of what they found. They also grabbed some more binoculars and multipurpose knives. Dr. Caldwell located several pairs of gloves and some camouflaged stocking caps as well. Kim had her hands on some battery powered Coleman lanterns when she saw what appeared to be a dried slime trail left by a slithering red snail. The crusty ooze led away from the Sporting Goods Department further into the store.

  She stopped and grabbed the doctor’s arm. Using the flashlight they carried, they both examined the rust colored mess on the floor. Dr. Caldwell pointed the beam of light in the direction in which the trail disappeared but couldn’t see anything. He drew out the new automatic pistol from the holster he had taken from the fallen police officer and which he was now wearing.

  “Should we go take a look or do we just get the hell out of here?”

  Kim had no answer. Looking over her shoulder, Dr. Caldwell saw another possibility. He reached over her, taking the light aluminum baseball bat in his hands. Liking the feel of the bat, he grabbed three more and slid them into the top of one of the backpacks he was carrying.

  “If those things move as slowly as the ones that we saw earlier this morning,” Dr. Caldwell said reassuringly, “then I don’t think we have that much to worry about.”

  Kim’s eyes were as big as saucers as she processed what he was suggesting. Looking at the bat in the doctor’s hands, she said, “If you don’t mind, I don’t plan on letting them get close enough to me to be able to use a bat.” And she held up her pistol for him to see.

  “No problem. Let’s go check things out. I guess we should give everyone else a heads up too, huh?”

  “And how in the hell are you gonna do that?”

  Dr. Caldwell shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not like we’re in a library.

  “Evvvvv’rybooooodddyyyyyyyy! We might have some trouble near Sporting Goods!”

  At first, his voice danced like a spelunker’s around the distant walls and corners of the store. For all of its kinetic enthusiasm, the voice seemed to be without a partner. There was only silence.

  A moment of utter terror followed as the realization of the grim possibilities occurred to them. They stared into each other’s eyes and waited.

  And then Neil’s voice cut into their worry with, “It’s all clear up front.”

  From over near the Automotive Department, Art shouted, “Not sure in Auto Parts. Got some blood but no bodies...yet.”

  There should have been one more update, but an encroaching quiet was all that followed Art’s update.

  Neil asked of the store, “Jerry?”

  Jerry and Claire were neck deep in the grocery section. They had a shopping cart that was rapidly filling up with large, family-sized bags of rice and dry cereal. There was a mix of canned fruit, vegetables, and meat on top as well. They had been busy and efficient, working together to hit both sides of each aisle into which they had gone.

  They were in their third aisle when they heard a shuffle coming from the soda aisle next to them. Fast on the heels of the disturbing sounds, they felt the familiar vibration of fear that tickled and teased their insides uncomfortably.

  All of Claire’s color, what little Jerry could see in the scant light of their flashlights, faded until she resembled a mime. She whispered in her quivering voice, “If I could, I’d be pissing my pants right now.”

  Jerry’s parched lips and arid tongue were making it impossible for him to speak. It didn’t really matter. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d say anyway. He looked up and then down the aisle in which they stood and tried to come up with ideas...any ideas to help them stay alive.

  Think! Think! Think! C-mon Jerry. You can do this. “Okay. There’s only two ways they can come at us. That means you watch that way and I’ll watch the other. We can get through this.”

  “What? Are we just gonna settle down here and make a life for ourselves here among the canned foods?” Her fear was making her ramble. “Sweetie, you’re such a romantic. What girl wouldn’t dream of—”

  The shuffling noise was moving down away from them, making Jerry’s side the most likely from which it would emerge.

  Jerry whispered, “Don’t panic.”

  With worried tears coursing down her dirty cheeks, Claire forced a smile and said, “Panic? Who’s panicking? I’m cool as a cucumber.”

  “Switch off the safety on your pistol.”

  Claire, who was already pointing the gun out toward whatever targets decided to make the mistake of appearing before her said, “Thanks. Seems like one of those things that I should’ve remembered the cop showing me, huh?”

  She swallowed hard and tried to slow her breathing. She was painfully aware that she was making quite a bit of noise, but try as she might she couldn’t calm herself. Her heart was thumping a frenetic beat that she imagined was acting like a homing beacon for their stalker.

  The trembling beam of Jerry’s flashlight shined an unsteady light out into the darkness. The shuffling footsteps had stopped and now Jerry and Claire felt like patients waiting in a dentist’s chair. They knew the shot was coming and were anticipating the moment.

  With Claire pressed against him back-to-back, Jerry could feel her shaking and could sense her fear. His was there too, restricting his breathing with its icy grip. He wondered if she could feel his fright as well.

  He tried to get a handle on his emotions and asked, “Where did it go?”

  A single bead of sweat threatened to drip from his nose after having traveled from his forehead; Jerry barely noticed. The truth is, Jerry would likely have scarcely noticed a massive coronary at that moment. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from the danger that lurked just out of view. He was contemplating moving forward a little when he noticed the tip of a shoe that was protruding just beyond the bottom of the grocery shelves to his left. He touched the back of Claire’s shoulder and then pointed toward it.

  “Now what?” she breathed.

  His voice cracking slightly, he whispered, “How the fuck should I know?”

  “Well—”

  Before either of them could say anything else, there was a flurry of movement that was in and then out of the flashlight’s cone of light. Jerry was then aware that there was another light that was shining across his beam. He settled back onto his heels slightly and waited. He was pretty certain that zombies did not attack one another but was definitely certain that they didn’t use flashlights to help them see in the dark, so he relaxed a little.

  When Dr. Caldwell and Kim appeared, he smiled and lowered his pistol back down to his side. And when he saw the bat in Dr. Caldwell’s grip he nodded and said to Claire, “I think we’re okay.”

  On the floor but obscured from view by the darkness again was laid out an already decomposing corpse that, until just moments before, had been stalking Claire and Jerry. Its largely ossified skull had nearly disintegrated beneath the weight of Dr. Caldwell’s heavy swing. The creature had hardly made a sound or any move to defend itself from the attack. It just reached out toward the doctor, allowing him to dispatch it without much fuss.

  Dr. Caldwell cautioned, “Keep your eyes open and stay alert. If there’s one, there are bound to be more wandering around in here.”

  Both Claire and Jerry nodded, but were relieved to know that the immediate danger had passed. Jerry said, “Thanks Doc.”

  Dr. Caldwell smiled and said jokingly, “That’s all right, kid. After seeing your shooting with a pistol last night, I kinda’ figured you could use the help.”

  Jerry cocked an eyebrow, to which the doctor replied, “Don’t get me wrong. You’re dead on with your rifle, but I think your sidearm marksmanship needs some work.”

  “Don’t worry sweetie,” Claire said, “I’m sure you’ll get lots of practice.”

  “Yeah, I guess
I’m kind of dreading that.”

  Kim continued to look around nervously. “You guys done?”

  Claire nodded. “Just finishing up. Looks like a lot of stuff has already been nabbed by looters.”

  “You mean like the one that Doc just laid out?”

  “Somethin’ like that.”

  “Well, let’s get this show on the road then. It’s probably not the best idea to hang around here any longer than we have to.”

  “Agreed.”

  Back out at the van, the new ammunition was stacked with the old in the back behind the last bench seat. The new sleeping bags and camping supplies were piled onto and then bungee strapped to the roof. The food they were able to grab, which seemed like so much more in the cart, was placed on top of the ammunition and extra firearms in the back. Looking at it then, Claire and Jerry wondered what had happened to all the food they had grabbed.

  Jerry said mockingly, “I guess when you’re shopping for two the cart looks a helluva lot fuller than if you’re shopping for an army.”

  “Should we get some more?” asked Claire, afraid that her suggestion might actually be heeded and she might Have to go back into the store.

  Meghan said, “No, I think maybe we should hit Burlington over there and get us some warmer clothes and coats. No point in overstaying our welcome or stretching our good luck too far. We don’t have enough of that to go around as it is.”

  “She’s right,” Dr. Caldwell added. “We should probably keep moving.”

  Art and Malachi had, meanwhile, busied themselves with filling up the windshield washer fluid reservoirs in both vehicles and then checking the oil levels in both as well. Most of the automotive supplies they had pilfered were forced into the trunk of Maggie’s car, sandwiched between spare fuel cans and Bibles.

  Chapter 18

  They could have walked to Burlington Coat Factory, and during friendlier times they probably would have. With things as they were though, caution dictated that they never stray far from their wheeled lifeboat. So, they drove.

  They pulled up in front of the clothing store and went through largely the same routine as at the previous store. In pairs, they made their way cautiously inside. Danny watched them as they walked into the store and disappeared.

  Danny and Jules, both sitting on the middle bench seat of the van, had taken to silently watching most events as they unfolded. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately, one can never be sure of these things—they were never entirely certain what was going on, but always seemed to show that they wanted to understand. There was, however, a degree of relief in not having to participate in every decision, but sometimes Danny felt like an afterthought...the proverbial third wheel, though he’d never have put it in such a way. The distance was starting to become more apparent. In his own way he realized that he and Jules were a burden, and that bearing that burden was something that these people could decide was no longer in their better interests to bear. They weren’t, after all, family.

  When it was quiet and the fear was being held at a distance, like today for instance, it was then that he started to think about his family. He missed them and the quiet moments afforded him the opportunity to be reminded of them. He had thought that he was too old to miss them anymore; that he had grown up enough that he could get by on his own. The separation from everything and everyone that he loved and had taken for granted only proved all too well how painfully wrong he was.

  It was troublesome for him that he couldn’t remember his mother’s face or his father’s voice. Of course, the memories of both of them were strong, but they were feelings more than actual images for him. It didn’t matter really; the feelings were bittersweet enough. He was disappointed that the pictures he brought with him on his mother’s advice “in case he got a little homesick” were still in his backpack which was still sitting at the cabin near Seward in which he was supposed to be vacationing with the Housers. What a tragic turn of events. Never, in all of his former camping trips, sports camps, or family vacations had home seemed so impossibly far away.

  The sadness had nearly taken him over when he realized that Emma was looking at him in the rearview mirror. She smiled and tilted her head a little. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Miss home?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Me too.”

  “I thought you lived here in Anchorage?”

  She looked out toward the road and beyond, seeing things that weren’t actually in sight. “I don’t know what this place is anymore, but it sure as hell isn’t home. I don’t think it ever could be again. Not for me.”

  They were both quiet for a moment or two when Emma asked, “You got a dog?”

  Danny nodded his head. “Yeah. His name is Romie. Roman to be exact.”

  “I’ve never heard of a dog named Roman.”

  Danny smiled. “My mom and dad just found him roamin’ around the yard and they decided to keep him. So they just called him Roman.”

  Appreciating the rehearsed nature of the reply and that the story likely originated with his parents, Emma smiled warmly. “What kind of dog is Romie?”

  “A Golden Retriever. He’s a great dog and loves to play. He can catch better than almost any other dog.”

  “I like dogs. You can count on your dog when you can’t count on anyone else. Whoever said that dogs are man’s best friend was right.”

  Danny nodded and drifted away in memories of Romie. Playing in the back yard, tossing…well, anything for Romie to run down and bring back. He was a great dog. And in remembering Romie and the great backyard at his house, he was surprised that he was suddenly visited with visions of his mom and dad in the backyard with him, remembering a barbecue from earlier in the summer.

  He could almost smell the coals on the grill as they cooked themselves from black to grey. His Uncle Justin was there with his cousins Sydney and Stuart. They were twins but were a boy and girl, a fact that always confused him. He thought for sure twins either had to be two boys or two girls, but in the end it didn’t really matter. It was just great to have them in his backyard and to be playing. They climbed into the clubhouse his dad built for him and alternated between playing war and playing house. Sydney didn’t mind being the princess in the castle being defended by Stuart and Danny, but she definitely preferred being the mother or the teacher of the two boys.

  Danny’s favorite time of the night was when his uncle brought out the fireworks he’d brought with him. Of course Danny’s mother immediately went into “worried parent” mode when she envisioned the pyrotechnical injuries that were sure to follow. Uncle Justin assured her over and over that nothing would happen and then shot her a concerned look when Sydney burned her finger on a hot sparkler. That just about ended the fun, but then Uncle Justin brought out the big rockets and Roman candles and whatever else he had in the wooden crate filled to overflowing with colorful cardboard packages.

  Danny’s mom was much more comfortable with these items because Uncle Justin was the only one who handled them and lit them, allowing everyone else to stand back at a safer distance. The red and blue and green and purple fiery flowers that raced into and then blossomed in the sky were spectacular and seemed to go on and on.

  When the evening ended, Danny said a very tired good-bye to his cousins and Uncle Justin. He and his dad then sat down in front of the television to watch some of a movie before Danny was sent off to bed.

  He missed his family and Romie more than ever, but it was nice for the memory to visit him. He looked over at Jules. She was sleeping again. She seemed to sleep an awful lot lately. And when she was awake, she was always tired and yawning.

  It was about then, with Jules snoring peacefully and Danny remembering wistfully, that Emma looked into the rear view mirror and noticed a trio of ghouls emerging from the Fred Meyer entrance from which they had just departed. Once again, Emma was amazed at the clarity of Neil’s foresight.

  He had instructed Art and Jerry to move some of the shopping
carts into a kind of barricade in front of the doorway. And now, those carts formed an excellent barrier behind which the fiends were trapped. They banged themselves repeatedly against the shiny metal rolling baskets but lacked the necessary problem solving capabilities to realize that they could just lie themselves over the carts and pull themselves free. For that matter, if the three of them were to work in concert, they could probably move the carts far enough away as to make a large enough opening through which they could all shuffle. Neither appeared to be forthcoming though as they merely banged into the carts futilely, spun in a hopeless circle, and then banged into the carts again.

  If she weren’t so disgusted by their appearance and behavior, the scene might even seem comical. Next on America’s Funniest Zombie Videos… She doubted Fox had the sense or the taste to realize what a bad idea that would be. With the right marketing though, anything’s possible. Just look at American Idol.

  She lifted the radio and said calmly, “Neil, we got some friends caught up on your shopping carts over there. Nice idea by the way.”

  There was a pause and some electric snow that was suddenly broken by a concerned voice, “Are you all right? We’re on our way back out.”

  “Relax. They seem to be pretty well contained right now, but I’d say let’s not dawdle. No point in pushing our luck. Just get what we need and get back out here.”

  “Give us five minutes.”

  “For you sweetie, I’ll give you seven.” She set the radio back down next to the silver pistol on the console between the seats. “Danny, wake Jules will you? And then you better get your hands on a gun yourself. I know it’s a lot to ask you, but two guns are better than one. And I think I know just the one. Why don’t you get into the back there and start grabbing some of the guns from under the seat. I want you to get a rifle. It’s kind of small, but it’s definitely a rifle.”

  Danny shook Jules awake and then followed Emma’s instructions. He reemerged from the back with a very trim camouflage-colored rifle. It had a fairly short stock and a very narrow barrel. On the bottom of the rifle was a stubby clip magazine. The gun was exactly the right size for him. His eyes were wide and slightly dazzled.