Paradise
Chapter 2: Gettin' on with the day
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Pulling into an abandoned gas station and parking the humvee behind the main building to conceal it from possible bandits and looters, not that there is many people left in these parts, I turn off the humvee and slouch back into the seat. “Oh god this day is not going to be amusing in the slightest is it Hank?” I ask myself grabbing my rifle mags sliding them into the pouches on the belt and suspenders. “Hell no it’s going to be the epitome of shitty day, by the looks of it a big storms comin’ in, we’re in the fuckin’ city, and we already killed three people.” I answer myself grabbing the rifle and opening the door before sliding out of the truck. “ Sounds ‘bout like most days anymore.” I close the door gently trying not to make much noise.
Putting the sling for the rifle around the back of my neck so the rifles not in the way but able to be grabbed in a moments notice I start around the station to get back to the road leading into the city. Stepping onto the main road I begin walking towards the outskirts constantly listening and swiveling my head to look for possible threats while also giving all the abandoned and burnt out cars a wide berth. “I feel bad for all the folks that got caught on this highway” I think looking at all the cars as I walk by. “It must of been so confusing with all the lights, sounds, and motion all happening at once.” I shudder Remembering back to when people were trying to get up north to Chicago to evacuate. “God damn shame it was all in vain.” I chuckled grimly “No one got out of Chicago.” I shake my head and continue my walk towards the city stopping on top of an overpass that over shoots the city and shows the skyline. “ ever thought I’d see that day mother nature takes back the cities.” I state gazing at the unkempt vegetation climbing up the buildings. “Truly a horrifically beautiful sight.” I stand admiring the scene before turning and resuming my walk again. “It’s amazing just how fast humanity’s place at the top fell.”
<><><><><><> Short-ish walk later<><><><><><>
As I stop three hundred meters from the first buildings on the outskirts I go over my battle plan for what I need to do. “Okay, I’m going for a supply run, grabbing everything I can but putting priority on medical supplies.” I go over my plan in my head taking a drink from my canteen. “Sounds bout right, but where am I going to go to do this?” I question myself. “I could go to the old high school that was used as a field hospital.” I think it over putting the canteen back and taking my rifle of from around my neck. “No, fuck that. Place is a goddamned death trap with how many people were there before things got fubar.” I voice out to no one in particular tightening the suppressor on the ar and inspecting it. “The National Guard outpost then, I know it like the back of my hand and it’s in a less populated place in the city.” Standing up nodding and starting in the direction of the outpost. “I hope it ain’t picked clean yet though.” I say as I pick up the pace to a mild jog hoping to get there sooner than later.
<><><><><><> 15 minutes later <><><><><><>
Climbing up a small levee that over looks the outpost I slow my breathing and lay down prone listening for any movement nearby. After hearing nothing I turn my gaze upon the base looking for anything out of place, it’s always good practice to scope an area out for around twenty minutes before you go in to make sure nobody or anything is to stirred up. “Shit should of brought binoculars with me. fuck.” I berate myself looking over the base and the surrounding terrain looking for movement.
After twenty minutes of only seeing minimal infected movement around and in the base I stand up and make my way down to the bottom of the levee where a wall of sandbags are stacked providing cover. Sliding behind the cover I listen for any movement while taking my knife out of its sheath and putting my rifle sling back around my neck. Peaking my head around cover I fasten my helmet before crouch running across the main road to the other side where a hole in the fence is. Sliding through the tight gap I’m met with an infected soldier leaning against a row of concrete barriers twenty feet away, I quickly make my way to him plunging my knife into his temple and twisting it before he could make a sound. “Sorry Fitzgerald” I whisper as I read his name patch wiping the blood off my knife on his uniform.
Taking cover next to the dispatched infected I peek out to look if my actions stirred anymore of them up. Not seeing any more activity I start my way to the main building keeping low and goin’ slow, stopping half way there as I step over a half eaten corpse and gaze at the look of pain and horror permanently etched on the young man’s face, looking up and speeding up a bit I make it to the front doors and peer through the window before opening the door slowly and slipping inside.
Immediately I’m hit in the face with the stench of rot and dry blood making my breath catch in my throat, “Euuugh.That’s what no movie ever told ya about the apocalypse, it smells like shit.”. I think while looking down the left and right wing while listening for any sound that I’m not making. “Alright if memory serves me right the medical bay is to down the left corridor.”. I think back to when I was here last. “The armory is also down that way so maybe I could swing by there as well.”. “Sounds like a plan, this just might go oka--.” Bang! My thought is interrupted by a muffled crash coming from down the right wing. Snapping the rifle to my shoulder and crouching down I begin to shuffle backwards into the left corridor. “Sounds like that came from the garage down the stairs over there.” I mumble to myself. “At least I don’t have to go down that way.”
Turning around and slowly going down the hallway to the medical bay I keep my rifle shouldered just in case something pops out at me. “Fuck I wish I could put the bayonet on this rifle while having the suppressor on, but that’d be too easy wouldn't it?” I complain to myself checking around doors before passing them approaching the med bay doors.
As I walk up to the set of doors that lead into the med bay hugging the wall I notice a fresh-ish blood smear leading into the room, “Jesus, what happened here?”. Quietly questioning myself I lean to the right and look through the slim window in the door. “Oh fuck me.” I state seeing four infected chowing down on somebody's throat like an all you can eat buffet. Looking away from the feast to end all feasts I take my rifle in my left hand and take the hatchet out of it’s sheath with my right. “Okay time to have fun.” I whisper pumping myself up for the upcoming fight. “Just get in there and split some skulls… quietly.”.
Opening the swing door and gently closing it behind me I look over to the four infected seemingly occupied with their meal. “Thank god for their limited vision and sense of hearing.” I think adjusting my grip on the hatchet and grabbing the rifle by the fore grip slowly approaching the group of preoccupied infected careful not to make a sound.
Stopping three feet away from the group and taking a deep breath I then rush forward planting my left foot on the left one’s neck pushing it down into its dinner while swinging my hatchet down into the one on my immediate right’s head splattering my right pant leg with crimson red. Pulling the hatchet out of it’s head with a grunt I stomp down on the infected still under my left boot with a cruch of vertebrae.
The other two remaining infected finale realizing what’s happening stand up and lunge at me. Swinging my hatchet I catch the one lunging for me on the right in the neck halting its advance. While trying to pull the hatchet out of the fumbling infected the one on the left lunges for my throat, noticing this out of the corner of my eye I drop my rifle and hold my left arm out to block its attack, it works. Instead of the infected biting down on my neck it bites into my forearm spilling blood and staining my entire sleeve red. Hissing in pain and giving up on the hatchet for a second I let go and kick the infected holding my hatchet away, it stumbling over its dead comrades and falling onto its back. Focusing my attention on the infected biting down on my arm I throw a punch to its face breaking its nose making it grumble in pain and in turn letting go of my arm. With it stumbling back holding its nose I reach for my knife with my uninjured arm, taking it out out of the sheath on my hip rushing forward to the angered infected looking up from its bloodied hands and growling at me. I throw a hard punch to it’s stomach making it curl over before stabbing it in the back of the head with a meaty thump holding it there for a second before ripping the knife out of it’s head and pushing it to the ground. Looking over to the infected I kicked back I see it’s not moving and turn my attention back to the infected that bit me and raise my foot before bringing it down on its back. “You.” CRACK “Fuckin’--” CRUNCH “Worthless excuse--” SPLAT “For a clump of cells--” THump “To ever disgrace this hellhole--” crack “of a planet.”. I pant venting my anger pulling my usually black boot, now colored red ,back putting my hands on my knees.
After catching my breath from the fight I just went through I look up from my hunched over position and put my knife back on my hip with a grunt. Standing up all the way and stumbling over to where my hatchet is lodged I place my foot on the dead infected’s chest and grab the handle of the hatchet and pull. With a fast jerk and a spray of blood that splatters my face I retrieve my hatchet and slide it into the respective sheath on my left hip.
Grabbing my rifle that I dropped during the fight I walkover to the doors and peek out to see if this little explosion of activity attracted anymore of them.“Thank the fuckin’ lord.” I sigh in relief seeing a few more infected in the hallway but none of them coming this way. Shutting the door quietly and turning around I roll up my left sleeve to see the damage the bite left. “Oh that ain’t fucking good.” I say aloud looking at the still bleeding and fairly deep wound. “ I hope this med bay does have supplies cause i'm definitely gonna need em now.”.
Covering my wound with my right hand to stem the bleeding a bit I pop open the cabinet door with my foot hoping to find anything of value, Shaking my head at the lack of supplies in the first cabinet I move to the next set of cabinets and the next not finding anything of value. After searching all the cabinets and leaving only a large gray locker setting against the back wall I turn and look at it, “Okay now if I don’t find anythin’ in this locker here I’m seriously screwed.”. I say looking down at my wound lifting my hand seeing that the bleeding has slowed but not enough to count.“Shit.”. Walking over to the locker and stopping right in front of it I wrap my left hand around the handle close my eyes and open the door with a squeak, taking a few shaky breaths I slowly open my eyes. “Holy mother Teresa on the hood of a Mercedes benz, I just might be un-fucked.” I stare in disbelief at the not all the way full, but half way full locker. “But first, I need to stop this bleedin’.”. Grabbing a roll of gauze and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide I walk over to a surgery table in the corner stepping over the dead bodies of the infected.
Setting down my supplies and rifle I roll up my sleeve before biting down on the collar of my duster so I don’t make a sound when I’m disinfecting the wound. Twisting the cap off the bottle of peroxide I take it in my right hand before pouring it in and around the wound to thoroughly disinfect the area, stopping for a second to let the fizz go down before doing it again. Grunting in pain as I douse the area one last time just to make sure it’s clean before setting the bottle down and picking up the roll of gauze. I squish the cuts together before tightly wrapping the gauze around my arm, Rolling it around five times I cut the gauze and knot it together, knot facing in towards my body so it doesn’t get caught on anything and come undone.
Done with dressing the wound and stopping the bleeding I take off the alice pack and walk over to the locker, unfastening the straps that hold the main compartment of the pack closed I begin to take the most important supplies. “Alright so disinfectants take priority so isopropyl alcohol and peroxide for sure.” I think taking three bottles of each. “Now bandages, not a shortage of those here.” I think looking at the pile of rolls “I’ll just take six for now I still have quite a few at home.”. Looking past the mountain of bandages I see a few suture kits and tourniquets, “Yep, those are mine now too.” I stick my hand in the back grabbing five tourniquets and three suture kits thinking about how well things are going. “This ain’t gonna last long is it?”. I sigh Looking through the locker for anything else only finding a small box full of hemostatic powder singlets immediately throwing it into the bag as well before refastening the pack and putting it back on.
Turning around smiling after closing the locker I walk over to where my rifle lies on the surgical table and put the sling back around my neck before looking out of the door to check for infected and walking out of the med bay. Looking to the left to the exit and to the right where the armory is I think about my next move, “So, should I just leave or should I go check out the armory?” I think scratching my neck “Leaving would definitely be the safer option, but I never turn down the opportunity to get more ammo.” I reason walking towards steel armory door.
Once getting to the door I check my surroundings one more time before slowly pushing open the heavy steel door raising my rifle and stepping inside. Letting my eyes adjust to the low lighting for a second I scan for any unused items and threats before lowering the rifle and stepping towards the first iron supply rack on the right wall.
Stopping in front of the rack and passing a quick look at the rack and only seeing empty wooden crates and overturned ammo cans I walk over the left wall’s iron rack and scan it. Not seeing anything at first I begin to walk away before a surprisingly intact crate on the top shelf catches my eye. Reaching my arms up to the seven foot tall top shelf I grab the lower part of the box and slide it off the shelf catching it with a hrmf. “Boy you’re a heavy one ain’t cha there?” I question the box setting it down and patting it. Turning the lock on the front of the box I unlock it and open the lid up and staring down at the contents box “You gotta be kiddin’ me here man.” Looking at the box in disbelief I mumble.
“I haven’t have a day like this in well……. Four months.” I say thinking back to my last really ‘good’ day pulling one of the items out of the box. “A box full of old pineapple grenades, What was the guard doin’ with these beauties?” I question throwing it up and catching it. “No matter that, I don’t really care, I’m takin’ these though.” I say slipping off the bag and un snapping the pockets on the outside that will store the grenades.
After pocketing the six frag grenades I resnap the outside pockets, that are now full with highly explosive fun rocks, and put on the bag walking to the back wall where all the large ammo canisters are located. “I know that the national guard probably didn’t leave any ammo behind, but by the looks of it everyone left in a real hurry so maybe they forgot some.”. I wishfully think as I start to check canisters and crates for items. “They musta’ left not long after I did, considering I left in April, and it being August now.” I recollected back to my time at the base still checking through ammo cans. “I really hope Fredrick got out all right, he was a really nice guy not much older than me as well.” I think walking over to a crate with its lid partially removed. Taking out my hatchet I stick it in the crack between the lid and the rest of the crate and push down. Repeating this process three or four times on each side if the crate the lid comes loose with a groan from the nails trying to hold the lid down. Taking the lid off and looking inside all I see is black, “Damn it’s really gotten darker in here since I first got here. Wonder what that storms a doin’.” I wonder walking over to the small barred and wired over windows. “Shit it’s gettin’ dark as night out there.” I state looking out of the window at the billowing almost pitch black clouds, “Better be hurryin’ then.”.
Walking back over to the crate I plunge my hand into the darkness and feel a plastic wrapped box of some sort, pulling it out of the crate I inspect the item. “An MRE huh, chicken stew too.” I say once again taking off the pack and undoing the straps throwing the MRE in the main pouch with the medical supplies and reaching for another.
After grabbing twelve of them and filling my bag to its fullest extent I’m about to refasten the bag before crack---BOOM, the room lights up with white light from the lighting strike outside. “FUCK. ” I yell grabbing my rifle and hitting the floor, the pack I was holding spilling its contents. Picking my head up from the floor I scan the room for threats before looking over to my pack and crawling over to it. “Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit. SShhhhiiiitttttt.” I say before scooping up the spilled contents and hastily shoving them back into the bag. Strapping the bag closed before throwing it over my shoulder, “That thunder is going to have those twitchy basterds all riled up, but if I’m lucky I’ll still be able to get out of here without too many problems.” I think rushing to the door neglecting to see the stack of empty ammo cans stacked up next to the crates I was searching.
Running into the cans they fall to the cement floor and loudly clatter for what seemed like an eternity making me pause in my tracks and stare in horror at the dinner bell I just rung. “Okay gotta get the fuck outta’ dodge NOW. Stealth is out the window.” I think turning and running back towards the steel door.
Shoulder checking the door open I raise my rifle and look down the hallway that is now teaming with infected staring at me with empty eyes. “Get some you walkin’ bags of shit.” I taunt while walking forward and firing shots at the group taking out five or six before they start to get smart and advance. Firing for the head and upper chest I mow down half of them before my rifle goes *click*. The group of infected getting closer I start to back peddle while sliding a new mag home and pushing the bolt release, Resuming firing I naturally pick off the ones closest to me with fast precise shots before targeting the ones further back.
With the most of the front group mostly gone I notice more are starting to linger out of the side rooms of the left wing and a flood of them advancing from the garage of the right wing. My rifle going dry again I drop the spent mag and replace it with a full one, “ I can’t keep this up. If I don’t get to that door now I’m gonna to die here today.”. I think shrugging my left shoulder, firing with my right, while trying to knock the shoulder strap off before placing my rifle in my left hand and shrugging my right shoulder, the bag coming loose.
Dropping to a knee I quickly set down my rifle and unsnap one of the pouches holding the grenades pulling one out. “Let’s see if these are all they’re cracked up to be.” I say standing up and pulling the pin. Letting the spoon loose I throw the grenade over the heads of the six remaining infected from the main group and into the borderline horde coming down the right corridor, the grenade disappearing behind the shambling feet of the infected. Crouching back down I pick up my rifle and start to shoot down the remaining six before---BOOOM--- the grenade detonates, spraying the right corridor with dark blood and pieces of rubble, sending a few pieces my way.
Small pieces of brick hitting my face no doubt cutting it I pick the pack up and throw it over my left shoulder before sprinting to the main door hitting one of the few recovering infected with the buckstock of my rifle on my way before slamming through the front door going full tilt like a peterbilt. Running towards the hole in the fence I throw the bag over the fence and slide through the hole before putting the bag back on all the way strapping it across my waist and running across the now infected ridden street and up the levee.
Sliding down the levee's opposite side I resume to run now noticing the rain and begin to laugh “Ahhh ha ha ha ha, ooohhhhh.... that was fun was that fun.” I exclaim still running down the side road dodging the grabby infected all the way back to the outskirts.
<><><><><><> Four wet miles and a lot of swearing later <><><><><><>
I see the gas station across the small overpass, grunting I pick up the pace and race across the overpass knocking an infected off on the way back to the humvee. As I slide around the corner of the gas station another thunderous boom sounds from the storm overhead making me flinch. Slowing down to a walk I catch my breath as I approach the humvee and open the door. Slipping the alice pack off my back I throw it in the passenger seat and my ar back in the passenger footwell, Just about to slide into the truck I hear a set of approaching footsteps over the rain. Turning around I see a infected stumbling to me “You gotta be kiddin’ me right now.” I sigh reaching to grab my ar before changing my mind and reaching for my new shotgun “Let’s see what you can do.”. I say Disengaging the safety and turning around with the shotgun at my hip.
The infected coming up fast I wait until it’s five feet away before pulling the trigger, the shotgun sounding with a thunderous boom of it’s own. The infected is momentarily sent airborne as it’s blown back from the blast. Racking the shotgun and smiling at the hamburger the infected’s torso just became I turn around and set the shotgun back in the footwell next to the rifle and slide into the seat
Settling into the driver’s seat I close the door and rest my head back with a sigh of relief the events of the city catching up with me. “I just went through hell and back for some medical supplies, grenades, and shitty food. What has the world come to?” I dryly laugh staring at the roof of the truck listening to the comforting pitter patter of the rain hitting the cab my eyes feeling very heavy. Resisting the very tempting call of sleep I grunt and set up, “Well I’m sure as hell not going to find that answer here.” I say turning the humvee over and heading home reaching for the almost empty bottle of whiskey.
<><><><><><> Ten miles away from the cabin<><><><><><>
“Damn this storm is really gettin’ bad.” I think as I look through the window in the driver's side door seeing the browning leaves on the trees being ripped off by the wind as I drive through one of the desolate small towns on the highway exiting it before turning onto the dirt path that leads to the cabin. “For fucks sake is a damned twister comin’?”. I question to myself speeding down the now very sloppy path seeing the cabin down the trail a ways.
Pumping the brakes as I go down the path I stop in front of the lean to and jump out of the humvee reaching behind the seat for the bag while the door flung open violently being caught in the wind. “Shit it’s really cooled off.” I say grabbing the rifle and turning off humvee noticing the drastic drop in temperature. “Hope this thunderstorm don’t produce a twister, though with the luck I’ve had somethin’s gonna have to balance my karma out.” I say closing the door on the truck and looking up to the low black clouds.
Turning around and running to the front door to minimise how wet I get I open the door and throw myself into the cabin “Jesus fucking christ!” I yell over the howling wind slamming the door shut listening to the storm outside for a second before I throw the bag off onto the counter and walk over to the furnace to check if there’s still a fire. Opening the door I curse from the lack of fire in the stove, “Wind musta sapped it when the storm picked up.” I reason taking off my duster and helmet, throwing them over the back of the couch to dry as I walk to the kitchen window looking outside the wind all of a sudden stopping.
“That’s not a good sign.” I say as I walk over to the door and step out of the cabin listening to the eerily quiet landscape, “Well either things are going to get fubar real soon, or things are gonna be A OK.” I say optimistically, looking around before the wind starts to pick up again. “Okay fubar it is then.” I say hearing what sounds like a freight train approaching. Knowing what that meant I looked up at the sky trying to spot the funnel cloud not finding it before seeing a massive circle of spinning clouds right above my property. “ Ah fuck me. That’s what I get for bein’ optimistic.” I say stepping back into the cabin locking the door, not like it's going to help at all, and setting all my stuff on the floor hoping to increase its survivability.
“I am NOT going to let this fucking storm take my house without me in it, this is the last thing me and my dad built together.” I state with conviction putting my helmet back on before the cabin began to lift of the ground. “ Holy shit, this is interestin’.” I say as I wobble over to the kitchen counter for balance and to grab a peek outside, the cabin groaning as I do. Latching onto the counter the house lurches violently to the side throwing my stuff across the living area and knocking me off balance before another sudden change in direction throws me off my feet and causes my head to meet the edge of the table temporarily dazing me.
“It’s going to take a lot more than that to knock me out storm. I've never gone unconscious and you ain’t gonna be the reason why I do.” I say grabbing the counter and pulling myself up looking out the window seeing nothing but lightning flashes and a wall of grey before what looks like a two by four shoots out and crashes through the window impacting the front of my helmet promptly knocking me unconscious.