Chapter 14
Hallie was appalled at the sight of the two-lane jam-packed with cars heading out of town. She'd never seen traffic this bad in her life. It seemed that everyone in Atlanta had the same idea - get out of town before you and the family gets sick. It became worse with every passing minute. The radio was filled with public service announcements, traffic reports and news breaks talking about the flu epidemic. Everyone knew that this was not the flu. The flu didn't kill people so fast. The flu didn't make people bite and scratch and try to attack each other. The flu didn't bring people back to life after they died. This was most certainly not the flu, Hallie thought. People were beginning to panic...and rightly so.
It was dark out tonight, no moon. Hallie sat in her car on the road in the bumper-to-bumper traffic, trying to reach Daryl. Kelly. Tracey. Anybody. All circuits busy still. It was almost midnight. She wondered what Daryl was doing. Was he looking for her? Dear God, no, I hope not, she thought. I need him to be home. I need him to throw open the door and run to the car and scoop me up and make me feel safe. Hallie needed those arms around her, to smell his scent, to feel him against her. She needed to feel protected.
She could hear people in cars in front and back and beside her. People passing, people pacing on the roadway while the others in the car inched slowly. Stopping. Inching. Stopping. People crying, arguing, shouting, praying. Pulling suitcases on wheels, kids in tow, all heading out of town to get away from the madness. She watched as the needle on her gas gage continued to drop little by little. She had started out with nearly half a tank but now, it was less than 1/4. She new she had to get gas at the first place, but finding a place open and then getting to it and getting back on the road would be difficult.
At three-fifteen, Hallie had gone exactly 3 more miles. Her gas gauge was on empty and she knew it was time to leave the endless line of cars. She wasn't going anywhere anyway. If her luck held, she could walk home and be there in a few hours. If her luck held. She stopped creeping up inch by inch until she could pull her car over to the shoulder and park. She gathered her purse, cell phone and two of the table-legs and left the car on foot, walking towards home. It was cold and the sweatshirt she'd grabbed at the office so many hours ago seemed like little insulation against the dampness of the Georgia night.
The third car she passed, the guy rolled down his window and asked if she wanted a ride. She declined and he started to open his door, telling her that she wasn't going to get far and demanding she get in. She held up the bat, glaring, and told him, "I said no. I meant it. Get back in your car or I'll use this and then I'll take your damn car myself. Your's won't be the first head I've caved in today." He looked at her and shook his head, cursing, but turning back to his car and getting in.
She passed several cars where the drivers or passengers or both looked like they were sick. One, the driver was slumped over the wheel, probably dead. She wondered how long the line would have to wait until anybody noticed and moved the car to the side. He was only about four feet behind the car in front, so it may not be anytime soon. Hallie continued to walk, keeping to the sides, moving in and out of the shadows as much as possible. Trying to be invisible, unnoticed.
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Merle spun out of the gravel driveway, cussing. Fuck this shit, he thought to himself. He knew where Daryl was. He knew why Daryl was there. What he didn't understand is why his limp-dick, piss-ant little brother didn't haul his happy little ass and hers back home so they could get the hell out of Dodge. Merle, in his infinite, alcohol-fueled wisdom decided to haul his own ass down there to the munchkin's place, throw them both in the truck and head for the safety of the woods, away from people, away from whatever-the-hell this flu was that people were so agog about. He figured it'd take a couple weeks for things to die down and they could come back then. He'd been packing all night, the back of the truck was full and now he'd about reached his own limit on PBR for driving safely, so he was heading out.
Merle drove towards town with little difficulty, save almost dozing off a couple times. It was real late, almost dawn. He could see the traffic jam and the line of cars coming out of the city. He decided to take the country roads to avoid the tie-up and rolled into Hallie's place about an hour after daybreak. He wasn't too happy to find neither one of them there. He popped the lock on her back door with little effort and sauntered inside, finding Daryl's note to her on the kitchen table. Well, ain't that jes' too fuckin' sweet. Dumb Ass has the right idea, he thought after reading it. Stay put n' then we get gone. Merle looked around Hallie's place and scoffed at the antiques. Looks like a fucking museum, he thought to himself. He took one look at the bed and laughed out loud thinking about the fun he imagined Daryl must have had in it. He drank another beer from Hallie's refrigerator and stretched out on the couch to wait for one or both of them to arrive.
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Daryl inched his way back along the route, until finally his temper reached the boiling point and he pulled out, into the shoulder, and started passing cars. People were furious, honking and giving him the finger, shouting at him, but he didn't care. He had to get the hell down the road, he had to find Hallie. He was sure she'd be in her car. It wasn't until daybreak that he came upon her car on the shoulder, abandoned. His heart stopped. He looked inside. No blood, nothing to indicate anything wrong. The hood was cold. She'd been gone a while. Out of gas, she had to be out of gas, that was all. Shit, he thought to himself. Either she's with somebody else or she's walking. Fuck fuck fuck. It's not safe to be walking out here alone. His mind raced. There were cars standing still, the line stretching as far as the eye could see, leading away from the city.
Daryl walked up to a couple cars sitting in the endless line and asked their occupants if they'd seen the car leave the road or if they'd seen the lady leave the car. No one had seen her. He walked back to the car and kicked the driver's side door with his foot, leaving a huge dent. Damn it, he thought. She's out there alone. She's fucking alone and I can't protect her.
Daryl got back in his truck and pushed the car gently off the road even more, making way for his truck to pass. He continued up the shoulder to the bridge, where he put on his desperate hat and asked an elderly couple to let him in front of them until they could cross the bridge and he could get off to the shoulder again. "It's my wife, see, she's pregnant and she was on her way home from the doctor's office and she's not back yet and I'm worried sick. We got another little one at home and I don't know what I'm going to do if anything's happened to her. Please, can you let me cut in until I can get off the bridge and get going again? Thanks a lot, Mister." he pleaded. Daryl was originally going to walk up to their car, tell them they were going to let him in and that would be it, but as soon as the old man rolled down the window, he could see that the old lady with him was sick, so he decided not to be a jerk and force the issue.
He sped off after spending over an hour waiting to cross the bridge and as soon as he could, he raced to the shoulder to continue his trip back towards her house. It was after seven now. Daryl was out of cigarettes and the cuticle around his thumbnails was nearly bleeding he'd been biting them so much.
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Hallie was tired, her feet hurt and had blisters. She was hungry as hell, too. She sat down on a log, out of sight of any of the cars on the highway and opened a bottle of water than a woman had given her as she walked past. She took small sips, despite her thirst. The sun was up now and the situation was getting desperate. More and more cars she passed held people who were outright sick.
She'd seen one guy on foot weaving in and out of the line, bumping into cars, sticking his head in only to be met with screams. The closer he came towards her, the clearer she could see him and the more frightened she became. He obviously had whatever had taken down Phil and Chrissie. His skin was a deathly, sickening gray color and there was a huge gash on his upper arm where the skin had been torn off, exposing muscle and bone. The screams were caused by him as he would find someone in their car and bite them, tearing out their throat, taking chunks out of their arms or whatever flesh exposed from a rolled-down window. For this guy, the line of nearly-parked cars must have been like a smorgasbord.
Hallie moved deeper into the woods when he got near, making herself small and invisible. She watched as he passed and stopped, his head lifting, faintly detecting her scent, then moving on, as if he was an animal catching a fleeting whiff of another on the wind. When she was sure he'd passed and could no longer see him, she continued, staying in the woods, stopping, listening for any signs of anyone approaching on foot, living or dead, animal or otherwise.
It was almost eight in the morning now. The sun was up and the line of cars on the highway was endless, but Hallie's pace quickened with every step. She had to be extra cautious now, there were much more people about, walking. Walking was a loose use of the term, they were more careening, wandering, milling about. All of them now were like Phil and Chrissie. They'd been bitten and now they'd come back to bit others. What the fuck was this, Hallie thought. It was not possible. People don't do this. Nothing she'd every heard of would make people die and then come back as cannibals. It was just not possible in her realm of thinking, no matter how she tried to explain it.
She cut through a small park, walking quietly so as not to gain the attention of an elderly man wandering on the corner. A dog came up to him, tail wagging and the man bent down and grabbed the dog, tearing a chunk out of it's side. Hallie started running when she saw the sight, running towards her house. It was three blocks and there were two of those dead people between her and home. She hid behind a car as one of them passed and then quietly walked up the street. It turned when she kicked a rock with her foot. It was coming after her. She turned, noting the location of the other one a block further, and when it was in range, she swung, the bat making contact with skull. It dropped and she continued on up the street.
She could see her house now. There was a beat-up truck parked in front. It wasn't Daryl's truck. Who the hell? Looters? She saw the rebel flag as she got closer. Had to be. Merle. The other walking thing came towards her fast, it's pace quickening. She picked up her speed and met it in the middle of the street. "Motherfucker, come on!" she hissed as the man charged her, his teeth snapping. She could see that he'd been bitten on the face, the flesh still oozing and ugly. His clothes were soaked with blood. His eyes were milky like he'd had cataracts a long time. She recognized him as a guy who lived down the block. Hallie shuddered as she laid into his head with a sickening crack of the table leg, wondering what had happened to the rest of his family. He fell to the ground with a sick thud, his head hitting the curb and splitting open.
She sprinted as best she could up the block to her house and up on the porch, banging on the door, not even thinking about the key. The door flew open with a fury as Merle stepped out as Hallie started to rush in. She bounced off him and Hallie almost flew backwards if Merle hadn't reached out and grabbed her with both arms, pulling her toward his chest, crushing her in a big bear hug.
He drug her backwards into the house quickly and slammed the door shut, bolting it and turning her around. "Fuck, Girlie, where tha' hell ya' been?" he roared, his big hands on her shoulders.
"I couldn't get home, the cars, there were people, those things biting..." she started to well up. "Where's Daryl?" Hallie shrieked. "Where the fuck is Daryl?"
"Fuck if I know. Note said he's lookin' fer yer' ass." Merle let loose of her and rubbed the back of his neck. They were so alike, even in their gestures, Hallie thought. "He'll be back real soon 'n then we'n get tha' hell outta' here."
"HE DID WHAT?"
"He's lookin' fer' YOU!" Merle yelled back. "Left tha' note 'n yer' table there 'n tha' kitchen. I's you, I'd stop whinin' 'n start packin'. We're gettin' tha' hell outta here n' headin' ta the cabin fer' a spell 'til everythin' calms tha' fuck down. Now ya' gonna' stand there 'r get busy? The Dixon Country Vacation Bus ain't gonna' wait once tha' dumb s.o.b. gets here."
"What?" Hallie said, not believing her ears. "Lemme get this straight. You broke into my house to wait for Daryl who's out looking for me and when he gets back, we're all leaving and going to your cabin in the woods to wait out this whatever-the-fuck-this-is?"
"Yeahpurtymuch." he said in one word, scratching his belly. "Now get yer' fanny in there 'n start packin' so 's we can leave when that peckerhead of a boyfriend of' yers 'gets back. I ain't waitin' on' ya."
"Fuck, I need a drink." Hallie shook her head. "I don't care if it's nine in the morning or not."
"Well, little lady, ya' know what they say. It's five o'clock somewhere."