After Everything Else (Book 2): Creeper Following Read online

  She put together a cold meal for lunch from the MRE’s and some odds and ends from convenience stores. After that, Chase spread out an unzipped sleeping bag on the pine needles in the forest next to the road. Almost immediately he was asleep. She knew he hadn’t been sleeping well at night. They usually crowded into the back of the Suburban together to sleep. She had awakened often to find him sitting up, staring out the windows. Sonya was apparently not too tired. She and Honey went for a walk. Sonya had found an IPod in a car that had music she liked, and she had her earbuds in. That seemed dangerous, but Honey was with her. As long as Sonya watched Honey, she would be alerted to any creepers in time to escape or defend herself. Sonya carried her now fully-loaded pistol in a holster around her waist. Marilyn stood watch over Chase, the 30-.06 near at hand. She thought about it.

  She had grown up with guns around. They were usually just for hunting, but her uncle was an avid gun collector. Every time he bought a new one, he brought it over for her dad to see. Her dad was never as enthusiastic as her uncle. “Why do you need all those guns, Harold?” she had heard him ask once when her mom’s brother had come by with a matched set of Colt pistols. “I get by just fine with a deer rifle and a shotgun.” Her uncle had talked about home defense and his rights as an American and the tyranny of the government, but Marilyn knew it was more than that. It was almost an obsession. Turned out his guns might have come in handy. She almost wished he were with them now. Him and all his guns.

  She was jarred out of her reverie by the sound of running feet. Sonya. Marilyn yelled at Chase to wake up, but when she located Sonya running back down the road on the other side of the tree, she dialed back her panic level a little. Sonya looked alarmed and confused, but not in fell-fledged creeper panic mode. Marilyn picked up the rifle anyway and scanned the road behind Sonya with the scope. Nothing.

  Sonya climbed over the tree and approached, out of breath. “Honey…Honey…” she began, but couldn’t get more out. Chase, fully awake and on his feet, offered her some water from a bottle. She took a drink, and then began again. “I was listening to The Strokes, and I noticed Honey acting funny. Not creeper funny, but like she was hearing something. I pulled out my ear buds, but I couldn’t hear anything. We kept going.” She stopped to take a few breaths.

  “How far?” Chase asked.

  “She started acting funny about a half-mile up, where the road bends to the right. We walked up and around the bend, and I heard this strange chopping noise. I’d hear it a couple of times, then it would stop. Then a couple of more times.”

  Marilyn broke in. “Where’s Honey? What happened to her?”

  “I stopped when I heard the sound. But Honey started running toward it. I yelled her name, and she stopped and looked back. I think she wanted me to follow her. She kind of wagged her tail a little, I think. Then the noise came again and she took off again. So I came back to get you guys.”

  Marilyn started up the road, but Chase called her back. “We take all the weapons. And be on the lookout.” They gathered the AK-47, the pistol, and some of the knives. In addition to the standard weapons, Chase had started carrying around a wooden pole, about two inches in diameter and about six foot long. He used it like a staff when walking. It was solid, and heavy. Marilyn was pretty sure it was hickory. She had seen him swing it around when he thought no one was watching. He may not have been sure of himself, but she had seen how graceful he was, and how surely he handled it. She was glad he carried it. Guns were good for creepers at a distance. She was glad he carried it now. When they were geared up, they went to look for Honey.

  Chapter 3 – Chase

  They crossed the fallen tree and started down the broken asphalt. Chase hadn’t decided to make the exploration on the basis of recovering Honey. He liked the dog, but the dog’s well-being was not as important as that of Sonya and Marilyn. But the curiosity of the sound, and the chance that there was something ahead other than days and days of driving, avoiding creepers, and circumnavigating blockages in the road all were too much of a temptation. They walked the middle of the road, he slightly ahead and in the middle, Sonya back and to his left, Marilyn to his right. He glanced back.

  They knew their roles. Sonya’s eyes scanned the piney forest to the left, and Marilyn to the right. Occasionally one would look to the rear, but neither one glanced too often to the front. That was his concern. He returned his attention to the road ahead. The forest closed in on both sides, coming pretty close to the road. He was amazed how close. The roots of some of the trees had come up under the asphalt and caused it to buckle. Those trees closest to the road bore scars that spoke of long ago careless drivers. This road was not much used. Nor did it appear to be much maintained, either. They came to the bend in the road Sonya had told them about. He looked at her, and she nodded.

  The road beyond the bend crept into view. Just another long straight-away ahead, with a slow slope and a slow rise to the next hill. But along this stretch, there were clearings here and there in the forest.

  “Somewhere around here?” Chase asked Sonya in a low voice. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to be quiet. As far as he could tell, creepers didn’t hear well, responding primarily to movement and vibration. But the Chief had taught them one thing: creepers weren’t the only things to fear.

  Sonya pointed ahead. “I think she cut off the road at that first clearing. Then back into the woods.”

  When they reached the clearing, they located the spot where Sonya thought Honey had disappeared. A trail led back into the forest. Chase watched as Marilyn knelt on the dusty path.

  “Those are Honey’s tracks, I’m pretty sure. There’s another set of dog tracks, too. Right there. A smaller dog.” She pointed, but Chase couldn’t see the difference. “And there, look at that.” Chase knew what he was looking at when she pointed it out. A footprint. A person’s footprint. “Not a creeper. You know how they kind of drag their feet. That’s just a guy walking, there. He’s got a limp, though, so he might be hurt. And he came through here pretty recently. Probably today. I think with the other dog, but I’m not that good of a tracker. I’ve got…had an uncle who probably could have told you.”

  “You’re just kind of amazing, Marilyn. I would have looked down and just seen dirt,” Chase told her. She shrugged, but Chase could tell she was pleased with the compliment. Sonya had started down the path and stood a few steps ahead of them looking back impatiently. Chase thought she was acting strangely. He was worried. She had been through a lot.

  They followed the path as it wound among the trees. It seemed to be heading downhill for the most part. The path almost disappeared in places, covered over by pine needles. The dry smell of the pine drifts, the comfort of being closed in, and the transition from sun to shadow almost lulled Chase into a state of inattention. He shook his head, and then stopped, listening carefully, but all he heard was birds singing and the wind in the branches overhead. He thought about what they were doing. How long should they look for Honey? How far should they get from the Suburban? If it had been Marilyn or Sonya, he probably wouldn’t have quit. But the dog was another matter, at least for him. He was sure Marilyn would insist on finding her, and now it appeared Sonya was just as committed to the dog. He made his decision. He squared his shoulders and stepped out in front of the other two.

  The path leveled and straightened, and the trees grew sparser and larger…older. The sound of a stream rose above the sound of the singing birds and the wind. The path led down to the banks of the stream, not much more than a trickle among mossy boulders. Marilyn pointed out the stones that were clear of moss, showing a fairly high level of foot traffic, but after they picked their way across, the path disappeared into several paths going all different directions.

  “Uh, Marilyn? Any ideas?” Chase looked around, looking for any indication where to go. Marilyn studied the trail, going to each branch, looking at the ground for long periods but the frown on her face never eased.

  “Lots of tracks, but I can’t
tell which ones are fresher. Whoever he is, he’s been here a while. And he walks here a lot.”

  “You said ‘he,’” Sonya pointed out.

  “Mm-hmm,” Marilyn replied. “Either that or a woman with really big feet. Just assuming it’s a guy. And I can’t tell which way…wait a minute.” She had walked a distance away from them. “There seem to be more tracks going this way. But I’m not sure.” She looked to Chase.

  He shrugged. “It’s as good a way as any.” He looked at the sky. “It’s going to get dark down in the woods pretty early. I think it’s about noon now. We’ve got about five or six hours of looking, and then we need to get back to the Suburban.” He was unsure how they would react. He was approaching the idea of leaving Honey behind. They looked at him and then at each other.

  “Okay,” Sonya finally said. “If we don’t find her by the time we need to go back, we have to figure she’s gone. But until then, we try everything we can think of.”

  They followed the path Marilyn thought was more travelled, and the glimpses of blue sky overhead became more regular The trees became smaller, but still sparse. At last, they came to a tumbled down cabin, very small, very old. Beside that and a little behind it was a much more recent abode: an Airstream trailer. One of the older ones, with an aluminum shell dulled by years of sitting out here in the woods. It didn’t look to have been anywhere in quite some time, but next to it was an ATV. And out front, in a bright red metal fan-back chair, a man sat, Honey on one side and a smaller, mixed breed dog on the other. Chase stopped, holding up his hand for Sonya and Marilyn to stop as well. Across the man’s lap was a shotgun. He had one hand on the stock, but he made no move to point it at them. Chase made no move to raise the AK-47 he was carrying, and he quickly checked to make sure neither of the girls was making any threatening moves. He scanned the clearing. The man appeared to be alone.

  “I’m guessing this is your dog,” the man said. He reached forward and scratched Honey behind her ears. Honey sat still, enjoying the attention.

  “Yes,” Marilyn said. “Her name is Honey.”

  “Hmmmf. That fits. I was going to call her Matilda if she stayed around. Walter,” he indicated the mixed breed dog, “was enjoying her company. He was being a gentleman, though, as usual. He’s fixed, and pretty well trained. But he’s not too picky about who he hangs around with, as you can see.” He stopped scratching Honey’s ears and she leaped toward the group of three. Chase thought she looked a little contrite as she stopped at Sonya’s feet, head down, tail still wagging furiously. The man looked at each of them steadily for a moment, and Chase studied the man in return.

  Chase guessed him to be in his forties, but wasn’t sure. The guy looked to be in pretty good shape, but he had quite a bit of gray in his hair. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, work-boots, and a blue and orange cap with the bill bent down around his eyes. Chase recognized Auburn’s colors. He couldn’t tell how tall the guy was, but guessed him to be about average height and weight. Probably about 5’10,” around 160 or 170 pounds.

  “Guess you folks can’t be all bad if a dog like that is willing to travel with you. Come on over, I’ll pull out some more chairs and we can swap stories.” He rose to go get the chairs, and Chase realized that there was something wrong with the man’s right leg, just like Marilyn had said. When he started walking, Chase watched and guessed that the leg was artificial. His coach in Mighty Mites football had lost a leg in a motorcycle accident and had worn a prosthetic and walked just like that.

  The man walked to the side of the travel trailer and brought out two tattered green camp chairs in their bags and one old nylon-and-aluminum folding chair. Chase watched as he set up the folding chair and then methodically pulled the camp chairs out and set those up as well. The chairs were evenly space in a small circle facing the fan-back chair. He looked at Sonya and Marilyn. Marilyn shrugged, and Sonya gave him a little nod. He sat in the camp chair directly opposite the man, who had returned to his seat. Marilyn grabbed the other camp chair, and Sonya sat in the folding chair. The man chuckled. “I would have suggested the lightest of you sit in that old chair. I wouldn’t count on it to hold too much weight. Those straps are getting old.” Sonya looked at the chair alarmed, but it seemed to be holding her. “I’m Bob Blankenship. Welcome to Camp Solitude. Although there was more solitude before this mooch showed up.” He reached down to scratch Walter behind the ear.

  “I’m Chase. This is Sonya, and this is Marilyn. You’ve met Honey. Camp Solitude? Does that mean you were all alone here?” He looked around for any sign there might be anyone else.

  “Yep. This is my dad’s old hunting camp. That cabin over there is where my grandfather was born. The land’s been in the family for over 150 years. I come out here every so often. Never was much for hunting. At least not until recently, and even now it’s not fun for me, just for eating. But I’ve had friends out here before to hunt, and other family used to come, but mostly it’s my get-away place. My Walden, I guess.”

  “But there’s no one else here now? You know what’s going on out there? How long have you been here?” Sonya asked.

  “Oh, I know what happened out there. I was out there when it first started. Tried to get to my ex-wife, but she was already gone. Don’t know about my kids. They live away, and don’t have much time for me anymore, anyway. Anybody else I’d bring up here was already gone, too. So I lit out on my own, and so far, that’s worked out for me. Walter showed up the second week, starving and looking like he’d tangled with a bobcat. He’s pretty healed now, so I think I’ve been out here for about a month, but it’s hard to say. Haven’t exactly been keeping track.” He gave a big sigh, looked up at the branches above his head. There was an awkward silence, and then he looked back down at Chase, and then around the group. “That’ll do for starters for me. I’ll share and share alike as we go on. So tell me, wandering strangers, about your adventures in Apocalypse Land.”

  Chapter 4 – Sonya

  As she so often did, Sonya sat back and listened to the others talk, offering little unless directly addressed or questioned. When they were ready, and when she was ready, she would add to the conversation. Because of what had happened with the Chief, she had been scared when she had first seen Bob, but as he talked to them, as he interacted with them, she let go of her fear. She held on to reservations, but her fear subsided.

  “Why do you call it Apocalypse Land? Do you think that is what is happening?” Marilyn asked. She had leaned forward and was scratching Honey behind the ear. The dog sat beside her, panting lightly.

  “I should be more careful with what I say around people I don’t know. You mean the biblical apocalypse, I assume. By the way you asked that, I’m going to guess that you have a lot of religious instruction in your background.” Sonya watched Bob. She had a feeling that he had talked on this subject quite a bit before things had happened. He settled into a rhythm that told her he was used to talking to people. A teacher, maybe. “I’ve always been in the middle on the whole religion question. Sometimes I believe more than others, but I’m definitely not what you’d call devout. I’m not really sure I’m an atheist, either. I’m like a lot of people are, or were. I’m kind of in the don’t-know, don’t-care category when it comes to the whole god issue. But what I’ve seen in the last few weeks has me thinking about it a whole lot more. Tell me what you’ve seen out there, though. ”

  Sonya glanced at Chase. He was nodding. She knew what he had said in the past. Marilyn was simply looking at Bob curiously. That was what Sonya liked about her. There was no doubting where she stood, but she never made it an issue if someone disagreed and never seemed to judge.

  Sonya listened to Chase talk about St. Louis, about the creepers being easy to avoid at first, at least in the daytime. Then Marilyn talked about her experiences. She told them in a monotone, describing everything. The details, even though Sonya had heard them before, were still shocking. Sonya wondered if she would be able to talk about her night on the sign so disp
assionately.

  When Bob turned to look at her Sonya studied him before speaking, a habit that she knew made people uncomfortable but couldn’t help anyway. He didn’t seem to mind. There were things about Bob that reminded her of her father. He didn’t look anything like him, but there was quiet patience and old pain, just like her dad. Resignation seemed to be a good word. She decided to tell as much as she could. She started at the beginning, and told him everything that had happened, right up through her night on the sign and their week of wandering the Alabama back-roads. But she didn’t just tell him what had happened. She told him about being scared, about losing hope, about how Chase and Marilyn had kept her going. She thought she was going to cry at some parts and have to stop, but she managed to only drop a few tears. Through it all, Bob just sat listening, nodding occasionally.

  When she finished, she realized Chase and Marilyn were staring at her. “I’ve never heard you talk so much, Sonya,” Chase said. “I didn’t know you could.” Sonya felt herself blush, but she looked Chase in the eye.

  “Maybe you never listened right.” She wasn’t mad at him, though. He was right. She had just talked more than she had ever talked to anyone except her father.

  “Okay, then,” Bob said, standing. “If you’re going to get to Florida, you’re probably anxious to get moving. I can help you plan a route, but I would be happy to fix you some dinner first. I’d even welcome the opportunity. After I make a kill, I have to eat the meat before it goes over, so it would help me not waste any. I killed a deer yesterday. I wrap the meat in heavy duty plastic and put it in the creek.Helps it keep longer and keeps the coyotes out of it, but it’ll go bad soon enough. Anyone want to stay for dinner and venison steaks?”

  Before dinner, though, Chase wanted to secure the Suburban. He and Bob left on the ATV with a chainsaw to clear the road, and then they were going to move it as close as possible to the camp. “There isn’t really a road down here anymore. There was once an old wagon track for the cabin, and of course the trailer was hauled down here on that, but we just let it grow up since then. We’ve always parked up at the clearing and either walked in or come in on ATV.” They decided to drive it down into the clearing and back into the trees as far as possible. They both climbed onto the ATV to leave. Walter, Bob’s dog, trotted along behind them as they left. Honey followed Walter. Sonya and Marilyn were left at the camp. Marilyn volunteered them to collect some edibles to go with the venison.