100 Days in Deadland

A sense of bad omen settled into my stomach. I turned in my seat to face Jase. “When the outbreak hit, when did they let out the schools?”


He shrugged. “I don’t think they officially closed, but I know some parents picked up their kids, anyway. It all happened so fast. At the high school, some of the teachers let us out early, and I drove my bike home. But those who rode buses…I-I don’t know how they got home.”

I grimaced. “I’m guessing school is still in session.”

“You have a bike?” Clutch asked.

Jase nodded. “Mom and Dad got me a kickass Suzuki for my birthday. I’ve been practicing up for motocross. I’m going—I mean, I was going to race at the county fair this summer.”

I could hear the enthusiasm in Jase’s voice bleed out as he spoke.

“The bike’s at your house now?” Clutch asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because a bike is the perfect vehicle for us to scout the farm and surrounding area. We’ll pick it up on our way back. Don’t worry. You’ll get plenty of motocross practice in.” He sighed as he turned into the large parking lot. “Add the bike to our ever-growing to-do list.”

Jase gave a low whistle. “That’s a lot of cars.”

“Are you sure there’s nowhere else that might have roofing supplies?” I asked.

Clutch grimaced. “’Fraid not.”

He pulled into an open area toward the back of the parking lot. If zeds came at us, the one thing we had on them was speed. Having the truck at a distance from the store could be a lifesaver when it came to putting space between us and hungry zeds.

We checked our gear and weapons. We left the Kevlar vests at home since they were heavy and zeds tended to go for the face or extremities. With the black Kevlar helmets and gloves, we looked like Special Forces, but I felt nothing like an experienced soldier.

Clutch looked at both of us. “All right, we’ve got to be smart about this. No fuck-ups. We get what we need, then we’re out of there. The other supplies in there aren’t worth the risk, not until we know the place is cleared out. We go in silent and we stick together. We know zeds hunt off their senses, so we move slow and silent. Always keep a direct line to the exit. If either of you screw up, I might decide to leave your ass behind. Got it?”

Both Jase and I nodded.

Clutch left the keys in the ignition in case we needed to make a quick getaway, or, worse, in case he didn’t leave the store with us. “Let’s do this. Exactly as I taught you. Follow my lead. Silence from here on out,” he said and opened the door.

I gripped the crowbar. We moved as a trio of dark-colored shapes slowly through the parking lot. I’d expected that we’d have to take out a couple zeds in the parking lot, but nothing emerged from around the cars. Not a good sign. Because the owners of those cars had to be somewhere.

We flattened against the wall on either side of the wide glass entrance, and Clutch bent around to scan the area. He frowned and led us down the sidewalk to the exit door. He scanned the interior longer this time before finally nodding. Forcing myself to breathe, I stepped next to Clutch, holding the crowbar up. The sliding door didn’t automatically open. Just as we’d expected, the power grid for the entire area was down. Clutch pulled at the door while I stood ready to knock back any zed that may attack. Jase stood at our backs, a rifle slung on his back and a long wood-handled axe in his hands.

Clutch pried the door open just enough for us to squeeze through one at a time. Clutch went in first. Once through, he crouched and flattened himself against one of the checkout counters. He held his machete out while he checked the area behind him.

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