Chapter 9

Morgan gave Duane the map; giving his son the important task of providing directions to the sheriff's station. He did this for two reasons. One, Morgan doubted that Ricky could even read the map, and two, Ricky was asleep. Whatever Ricky had done to burn the house down, it caused him to fall asleep. Tek's only reaction to Ricky's actions was to call him 'blog-nis' a couple of times before falling asleep as well. Morgan wondered at what other abilities Ricky had and whether they all were draining as the thing with the fire. While useful, Morgan feared that his friend's abilities would be more of a hindrance if he kept falling asleep afterwards.

"Dad." Duane called.

"Hm…"

"You wanna make a left on Dogwood Road."

"Okay." Morgan acknowledged as he slowed down as to not miss the turn.

Luckily, the road was easy to spot, and they made their turn without issue. They rolled up to the station, finding the gate was closed and most likely locked. Morgan stopped the van. He turned to wake Ricky up but was startled to find that Ricky was already awake. Duane was snickering in the back, causing Morgan to give his son a look which did nothing to stop the boy's giggles. Ricky was looking at them in confusion. Morgan just waved his hand as he climbed out of the van.

Morgan watched as Ricky figured out how to get out of the van before turning his attention to the gated sheriff's station. There was a naw in the yard. Morgan figured the individual must have worked at the station, judging by the uniform the naw was wearing and the bullet proof vest. He continued to eye the naw as it seemed to have smelled him and was slowly approaching. As it made its way toward the gate, Morgan heard a slight jingle; the sound of keys.

"Hey Ricky," Morgan called, drawing Ricky's attention to him, "think you can get me those keys?"

"Keez?"

Morgan nodded then pointed to the heavy key ring on the naw's belt.

"Keys." He said again, "I need 'em to unlock the gate."

Morgan also hoped that if the armory had not been completely raided then one of those keys would be to the armory.

"Keez." Ricky repeated then leapt on top of the van.

Morgan watched Ricky jump into the air, twisting his body about in moves that Morgan had only seen in an Olympic Gymnastics program. As Ricky came down, he had pulled out his asp, extended it, and he brought it down on top of the naw's head; in a move similarly to one would imagine a sword cutting down on a person's head. The naw went down, and Ricky landed on his feet in a crouch.

Morgan could hear his son clap and cheer, saying something about a perfect 'ten'. It brought a smile on his face. He then heard his son call 'heads up', making Morgan look up. He quickly took a couple steps back as he eyed the keys and caught it. His hand stung a bit, but he was glad that some of his Little League skills were still with him. Morgan immediately went to the gate and began figuring out which key unlocked it. While figuring that out, he noted movement from the corner of his eye. He looked up in time to see Ricky toss the naw aside as if the naw was nothing more than a ragdoll.

It took Morgan a couple of attempts, but he soon found the right key and opened up the gate. He quickly pulled the van inside, and he went back to the gate to close and lock it.

"We'll stay here for the night; plan our next move." Morgan said while looking for the right key to open the front door. Once inside, he turned to his son, Ricky and Tek. "Okay, you three, I want you to go through every office, kitchen, break-room, and the locker rooms."

"Even the girls'?" Duane asked.

"Yes, even the girls." Morgan answered. He paused for a moment then said, "If you find girl stuff for you know, get it."

Duane's expression was a mix of horror and disgust.

"Why?"

"If we meet up with a group that has women, we can trade with them or maybe bargain to stay with them."

"Alright." Duane grumbled then turned to Tek and Ricky, "C'mon. Let's see if we can find anything."

Morgan watched them go then he went to find armory.

Several hours later, everyone met up in the kitchenette. They had lined up all the supplies they found along the wall. Most of it was the armory that Morgan had cleared out. He was still stun by the sheer number of firearms and ammo that was left behind. He presumed that the few missing weapons were with the officers that had come to assist in the riot control during the early days of this living hell. However, even with the missing weapons, there was still enough arsenal to arm a small militia.

The others managed to find some clothes from the offices and locker rooms. They also found some toiletries, such as shampoo and soap, and much to Duane's horror, they found feminine products. They even raided the toilet paper from the supply closest and grabbed the trash bags to store all of their supplies.

Duane used some folder label stickers to label each bag so they would not have to open everything just to find something. Unfortunately, the kitchenette was a bust; most of the food found had gone bad. The only saving grace was a bag of whole bean coffee that Morgan found.

"But Dad, there's no grinder. How are you gonna make coffee?" Duane asked.

"Cowboy coffee…" Morgan answered as he puttered around the kitchenette, "I learned this from my great-uncle, Larry. He was a ranch-hand."

Then Morgan began to show his son how to make coffee from whole beans. Duane watched in amazement as his father set-up the recently cleaned out coffee pot over the portable camping stove that they had found in their scavenging. While the coffee beans were soaking in water within a double boiler, Morgan was looking at the map again.

"How come I never heard of Uncle Larry?" Duane asked.

Morgan looked at his son.

"He passed away when I was a bit older than you."

"Oh…" Duane trailed off, "And you remembered this stuff?"

Morgan arched a brow.

"I may be old, but I'm not that old." The older man grumbled, making Duane give his dad a shitty grin.

"So, where are we gonna go?" Duane finally asked as he joined his father at the lone table in kitchenette.

"Honestly? Dunno…" Morgan mumbled and began thinking loudly, "Last we heard, there was a quarantine zone in Atlanta… it could still be there… or not… but there is the CDC… if there's any answers, it would be there… may be a cure… doubtful… this hit us too hard and too fast… but it is a secure facility… solid walls… supposedly self-sustaining… hmm…"

Soon, the kitchenette fell quiet with only the sounds of water boiling. After a few more minutes, Duane called his father's attention, startling him out of his thoughts. Morgan checked on the coffee. Believing it done, he poured three cups; however, for the third cup, he only poured a small portion and cutting it with more water before handing it to his son.

Duane took a sip and made a face at the bitter taste. Morgan too made a face at the bitter taste, but honestly, he did not care; it was hot and it was caffeine. Morgan watched as Ricky took a sip, smacking his lips at the taste and then… the Jones stared in shock as Ricky down the drink in two long pulls. Suddenly, Ricky's entire body relaxed, his eyes drooped to half-mast and he was… purring!

"Okay…" Morgan drawled as he pushed the coffee pot away from Ricky, "no more coffee for you."

Ricky just gave Morgan a droopy look and seemed to purr louder. Morgan looked at Tek, who was drinking water from a bowl, and noticed that she too seem to be a bit lethargic in her posture. She moved to a corner of the kitchenette and curled into a ball to sleep. Not soon after, Ricky joined her in the corner and promptly went to sleep. The Jones could only stare at each other.

"Okay, definitely, no more coffee fer them." Morgan said more to himself than to his son.

The kitchenette fell into an awkward silence before Duane asked where will they go in the morning.

"The CDC." Morgan stated as he pointed to Atlanta then explained, "We might get some answers as to what this is, what caused it and if there's a cure. But more importantly, it's secure."

"Secure?"

"The facility will have solid walls and fortification." Morgan said, "Aside from joining another group, we'll also need a place that's secure and defendable if we're going to survive this."

"You mean like a castle?"

"Something like that." Morgan nodded, "Now, do we want to take the highway or should we take the back roads?"

"Highway." Duane said.

"Highway would be faster but it would also littered with abandoned vehicles, making it difficult to get through, especially with the van." Morgan remarked, "However, if we take the back roads it'll take us longer to get to Atlanta."

Morgan continued studying the map for a few more minutes before turning to the sleeping duo.

"Let's get some sleep." Morgan called, "We have a long road ahead of us."

The group woke up fairly early in the morning and began loading up the van with their loot. Once everyone was in the van, Morgan handed Duane one of the walkie-talkies to switch channels after a count of a hundred. When Duane asked about the map, Morgan remarked that they will travel on the highway unless it proved to be too difficult. Morgan hoped that another group would have a radio as well and by channel hopping, they might pick up their communication and may be join them.

"And if they're bad people?" Duane asked, making Morgan pause.

"I dunno…" Morgan trailed off as he drove away from the station.

Translations:

Naw(s) (PIE) – dead (pl)