Now We Walk

Posted on Sat Jul 22nd, 2023 @ 1:56am by Hale Stratton [Major, United States Army] & Alonzo Blazevic & Calista Sutton & René Rouen & Civilian Victoria Lancaster & Civilian Father Dominic Stephens & Civilian Courtney Wynn

2,709 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: Bangor or Bust
Location: Road Closure Outside of Bangor, ME
Timeline: 28 August 2010 - 06:00 a.m.

Hale found a spot to park the Jeep out of sight of the main road leading into Bangor. Having grown up in a wilderness area where roads were more a suggestion than a fact, he had always driven off-roading vehicles and the Jeep was no exception. The part was screen by trees and heavy undergrowth, thick enough that the vehicle would go unnoticed.

"Okay," he said, "gather your gear. We'll have to walk the rest of the way." He turned off the engine and climbed out, circling around back to open up the rear hatch and start pulling out the gear the three occupants of his vehicle had brought along with them as well as his own well-worn backpack.

René dismounted from Victoire’s vehicle and grabbed his small pack from the cargo area at the rear. He then gathered with the other teens to await instructions from the adults.

Jordan grabbed his gear and also one of the spare bags with Victoire’s medical supplies. He made a few adjustments to his load to make it more manageable for the long trek to Bangor. He was a strong fellow and quite athletic and had volunteered to take the extra load.

Courtney pulled her own small pack and slipped it over her shoulders. She glanced down at her outfit and sighed. It may be suitable for hiking, but it lacked in the trendy style she preferred to wear. She pondered over who she might be able to manipulate into carrying her pack as everyone started gathering for instructions.

Ethan's backpack was new as was everything in it. He hadn't come prepared for the end of the world. He'd fled from the death of his parents with nothing more than the clothes on his back and a bit of cash in his pocket. The grief had settled, coiled around his heart, but that feeling as though he were standing in the ashes of his life with no way forward was fading. He could see a path ... not, you know, a great path but a path nevertheless. And he had Alonzo to thank for that.

Patting Ethan on the back, Alonzo wanted to be supportive and reassuring, to check on how the teenager was doing. Alonzo had a few things with him in his backpack. "Are you doing alright, Ethan?" he asked.

Ethan shrugged, a slight lift of the shoulders, a way of answering when words didn't seem to do the job. But words were needed or so he told himself. Alzono wasn't related by blood, had no reason to figure him out in the way his parents had, to know him that well. So he searched, broke off a bit of the scab over the deeper wounds, and found a bit he could say. "Better, I guess. Or maybe, its more like, I'm ... adjusting to the pain. Not just me, is it? Everyone's going through the same thing." He paused a moment, slanting a glance up at his ... friend? ... as a new thought intruded. "We're taking them back to Bangor but me? I don't have any other family there. What happens to me?"

"I suspect with all that's been going on lately, all these incidents, and what the police have undoubtedly seen, they should know you are innocent especially if you turn up alive and not reanimated" Alonzo replied. "I'm sure you have extended family somewhere, but it may be safer to stay close for now, with me?"

Ethan nodded in relief. Truth be told, he wouldn't feel safe with an elderly aunt or his cousins that lived, as they themselves had told him more than once, for 'beer and broads'.

Dominic, rummaged through a compartment on his backpack before walking over to Hale. "My late wife and I used to hike the trails before cancer took her a few years back." He handed over two radios and a set of binoculars. "We found these useful for bird watching and keeping in contact when I would be out gathering firewood. It might come in handy if you want someone to scout ahead of the group during the trip south."

"Thank you, Father," Hale said as he gestured for Rene and Ethan to join them. "We'll follow the path you talked about last night. As long as its safe, we'll stick to the road. Make it easier on those that aren't used to this sort of thing."

René noticed Hale gesturing him over. He made a final adjustment to his small pack and the machete in a sheath on his belt as he stepped over.

"You and Ethan," Hale continued, nodding toward both teens as they arrived, "are going to be our scouts. Keep to cover, don't make a lot of noise, and take one of these." He handed one of the radios over to Rene. "Don't use it unless you have to and don't engage. You see trouble, you come back and let us know. Understand?"

René nodded. "Oui mon Capitan. We scout ahead, if there's trouble we return to the group as quickly as possible. Only use the radio if absolutely necessary. How far ahead do you want us?"

"Not far," Hale said. "Far enough that we'll have warning but not so far that Vic and I won't be able to get to you if there's need. How about line of sight at least?"

"So only 250 meters or so." That wouldn't be much time if they encountered someone in a vehicle. Hale was in charge and René had agreed to do as told.

Alonzo had kept his ears sharp, listening to everything and anything he could. An uneasy feeling washed over him listening to Hale. Ethan thought Alonzo. Why did you pick him Alonzo took a deep breath.

The group gathered. "We'll walk as far as we can and make camp once we start losing the light. Jordan, Vienna and Courtney, you'll be responsible for gathering firewood and some rocks that we can use for a fire ring. We'll use what we've brought with us for a meal tonight but if you notice anything that might supplement what we have, let me know."

Jordan gave Hale a thumbs up and nod. "Gotcha sir."

Courtney inhaled sharply and nodded. This school trip had turned into a nightmare in more ways than she cared for. She just wanted to get home and relax poolside.

"Vic, you and I will be upfront, Father Dominic, you take the rear. You see anything on our back trail, you call out."

Outside the Katahdin Inn

The last day had been both eventful and not eventful for them. While it had mostly been quiet at the Inn and his wife had been resting most of the night, it was still a very trying time. There were still moans going on in the hotel. He had spent hours the day before getting across the street to the store before they completely lost power to get her medical supplies and to get them some food that they would be able to keep their strength up without power.

As the day had progressed, he had left to try to get some wilderness survival gear to survive everything. He didn't like the idea of taking the car and leaving Calista stuck without a way out, so he had done mostly everything on his own two feet trying to get what they thought that they needed.

As the new day had come, both of them had been discussing that they seemed like they were well out of their element. Thankfully, it was the fall and without power, the stench in the hotel was starting to get rough. It was all they could to do try to make it through biding their time until they could get going.

[On the Road]

At the site of the road sat an abandoned 18 wheeler. Emblazoned on the sides of the trailer was the name of the company the truck belonged to: WALMART. Evidently, the truck was a shipment bound for a store in Bangor that hadn't arrived.

The truck had been discovered by a young brunette whom had taken great interest in both the truck and its cargo. With no sign of the driver around, the brunette had climbed into the cab through the open driver's door, and after verifying that there weren't any undead waiting for her in the sleeper in the rear of the cab, she began looking for a key to potentially get the truck going. When she found none, she proceeded to gain access to underneath the steering column to attempt hot wiring the truck.

When her hot wiring attempts revealed to her that the engine spun over, but wasn't lighting, the brunette grabbed a flashlight she had found left in the cab by the driver and hopped out, unscrewing the fuel cap on the driver's side and shining the flashlight down into the bone-dry fuel tank.

"Well, there's the ruddy problem: Wanker ran out of diesel." The brunette cursed in a Liverpool accent. "Ah well, perhaps there's still something worthwile in the cargo..."

Sliding the flashlight into her pocket, the brunette picked up her baseball bat from where she had left it and proceeded to make her way 53 feet towards the door of the trailer. As she approached the rear of the trailer, an undead previously out of sight rounded the corner of the trailer, and the brunette proceeded to nail it with the bat. She had spent the majority of the previous evening wrapping a piece of barbed wire fence she had cut around the head of the bat, and the difference was immediate, as the undead crumpled lifeless to the ground with just one swing of the bat, whereas it had previously taken at least two to provide the same result.

Fortunately, it was just the one for now, but the brunette knew that its friends were probably nearby, so she'd have to make scavenging the truck quick. Opening the rear doors of the trailer, the brunette used the trailer's rear bumper as a step to hoist herself up into the trailer. Once she was standing inside the trailer, the brunette grabbed the flashlight she had tucked into her pocket and turned it on. Daylight would only assist her so far into the trailer.

René and Ethan had been walking point for the group for a couple of hours. René peered back along the road and wondered if Vienna was doing alright. There had been no sign of the living or the Soulless as he had been want to think of the undead.

Something caught René's eye in the distance, movement on the road. He stopped and stared for a moment, but there was no more. He resumed walking after the momentary pause. A minute or so later he heard and saw the trailer doors on a parked lorry about a 100 meters ahead opening.

Rene looked at Ethan as he placed one hand on the machete handle. "We approach quietly. Could just be the wind."

Ethan nodded, one hand on the combat knife he had chosen. Not a big or flashy weapon, it worked and Hale had spent time showing him how to keep it sharp and where the softest place on the human skull was, so that the knife went in easily. Beheading one of the dead wasn't as easy as it looked in the movies and too, it didn't kill them ... and that wasn't something he wanted to think about ... so he moved forward, drifting to the left a bit, so that they could come at it from two different angles.

Katahdin Inn

Calista hadn't liked being alone. However, in these tumultuous times, she had to be strong for their sake for herself. She laid in bed, having made her way there after locking the door after Killian left just a little bit before. She had also checked out the broken window that the other mattress was in front of. While there was still movement downstairs, it wasn't enough that they caught the slight movement in their window, nor was it enough for either her or Killian to try to take anything into their own hands.

While they hadn't searched the hotel, it seemed like they were the only ones there, which allowed her time to heal and deal with what was going on, and maybe they would be able to get on the road soon to head home.

At the Walmart Truck

René walked down the right side of the lorry as Ethan took the left. He stooped about a meter before reaching the end of the trailer and scooped up a rock in his right hand and a clump of dirt in his left. He cocked back his arm and let the rock fly towards another car about 5 meters back. The rock hit windshield with a loud crack.

While glancing over the pallets in the trailer for anything salvageable, the brunette heard a loud crack consistent with a windshield shattering. Undead that the brunette knew of weren't capable of smashing windshields, and the sound was indicative that she wasn't alone.

However, instead of tensing up with fear, the brunette's face twisted into a smirk. If someone was here to mug her and loot the trailer, she was about to call their bluff.

"Oi!" A Liverpool accent rang out from within the trailer. "You've got a lot of nerve picking on a woman just trying to survive! Unfortunately for you, you've picked the wrong bird to mess with!"

The brunette appeared at the threshold of the trailer, but did not step down, as doing so would give whomever was out there initiative to attack. She looked over at the bat resting on her shoulder:

"Well, Vladdy; should we introduce you to the faces of our uninvited guests?" She asked aloud.

René experienced a feeling of familiarity, though initially he wasn't sure why. He glanced at the lorry for a moment and it came back to him.

The Rouen family had gone on holiday last summer. René’s mother taught music at university and had wanted to visit the sites around Liverpool that the Beatles were known to frequent. They car rental had issued a vehicle that ended up stalling just short of Liverpool. A female lorry driver with a powerful personality had stopped and provided timely assistance in getting the car started again.

The family, as a thank you had taken the young woman to dinner. The voice coming from the trailer was a strong match to the young woman who had saved the family holiday.

René released his hand from the machete handle and stepped wide to reveal himself and to get a line of sight on the occupant of the lorry trailer. He gave a reassuring smile and chuckle at the sight of Victoria standing there projecting confidence with her modified baseball bat resting on her shoulder. "Bonjour Mademoiselle...Lancaster...if my memory serves me right."

A look of surprise washed over the face of the brunette, Victoria Lancaster. The memory of the French tourists that had flagged her down on a dual carriageway and whom she had subsequently helped get their broken down car going was... Vague due to the situation with Vlad- not the bat, but the real Vlad for whom she had named the bat after- and the fact that his chemotherapy treatments were beginning to be less effective at keeping his cancer under control. It was a sentiment that she had even voiced to the grateful French family over the meal they insisted on buying her.

"Well, I'll be damned." Victoria said, climbing down from the trailer, yet still keeping a hand on the bat. "Didn't think I'd run into you again with the end of the world being this close."

René gave a nod. He was quite surprised to see the English lorry driver here in the United States of America. He looked at the 18-wheeler and then back to the young Victoria. He gave a slight gesture towards the tractor-trailer rig. He opened his mouth to ask a question as the wind shifted and brought a strong stench of death.

 

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