“Four shots,” was all Tommy said.
“Yep,” I replied.
“You could have nailed him with your SIG, couldn’t you?” Tommy asked as he tossed a small stick into the water.
“We all could have,” I sighed. Long range pistol shots was something we had practiced, the logic being you never knew what kind of situation you might find yourself in, with or without your rifle. You just had to know your gun, know your sights and adjust accordingly. Charlie had gone to the trouble of notching his front sight, marking the lines where he could make thirty, forty and fifty-yard shots. Past that, it was a game of artillery with a semi- auto.
In this case, it was about forty yards from where we stood to where the zombie had been. In a way it worried me a little, but a logical part of me realized that Nate was just out of practice, that he would regain his skills the longer we were on the road.
At least that was what I hoped for as I headed back to the RV. I climbed aboard and plopped myself down at the kitchen table which had a few maps on it and a couple of legal pads with pens tucked in them.
Duncan came in behind Tommy; he had been poking around a small group of houses just up the way. He was carrying a lumpy garbage bag and at my raised eyebrow he let me know what he found.
“Trade goods,” he said with a grin.
“Really? What kind?” Trade items were always welcome. We had found that having needed items went a long way to establishing good relationships with communities that might be more isolated than others. In a way, I felt like early explorers coming into contact with native tribes.
“Charmin.”
“Oooo… nice. Save a few rolls for us, hey?” Toilet paper was a very valuable commodity.
“Already have. I’ll stash this stuff in the back locker.” Duncan worked his way to the back of the RV and disappeared out of sight.
I opened up my map and felt the RV start up. Nate was driving and I was pretty sure he didn’t want company. I think he might have been embarrassed by his shooting, but it was something he was going to have to come to terms with. If it didn’t improve, I was going to have a hard time trusting Nate to cover me in sticky situations. With the rest of the crew, there was no doubt. We all knew our rifles inside and out, we knew what ammo they worked best with and we knew exactly what the bullet drop rate was for them. Same thing with our pistols. It wasn’t a pride thing, it was survival. Above our makeshift shooting range back at the Rock, Charlie had posted a sign that read, “What if you only had one shot to save your friend’s life?” We took it seriously. I guess in the safer communities, you tended to forget the things that go drag in the night.
Tommy sat down across from me and peered over the maps. I handed a notepad to him and said, “We need a route through Ohio, away from major cities and roads.”
He nodded. “Roger that. Duncan show you what he found?”
“Toilet paper, right?” I didn’t look up from my map of Indiana.
“No, he found a radio too.”
I looked up. “What kind?”
“Portable short wave. Got its own hand crank generator. Looks like an emergency one.”
“That’s cool. We’ll have to see if we can reach anyone with it.”
“Yeah, we’ll try that later. How are we headed?” he asked.
I was figuring on staying with Route 30 if at all possible, since it skirted most of the major cities. It would drop us off in Baltimore, which would allow us a short jog into DC.
Tommy looked over his maps. “If we stay on 30 through most of Ohio, we could head south and pick up 40, which would take us straight to DC.”
That sounded better than my plan. “Major cities?” I asked.
“A few, but it seems to roll around pretty well. You know, it’s funny,” Tommy said.
“What’s that?” I asked, taking a quick drink from my water bottle.
“I never really realized how many small towns there are out there until we started going over these maps. I mean, there’s a lot of people out there,” his hopeful expression turned dark. “A lot of zombies too, I reckon.”
I shook my head. “Worry about it when they’re in front of you, not before.”
Tommy shook his own head. “You’re right.” He glanced forward. “Gonna talk to Nate soon?”
I scooted out of the seat and picked up my pad. “Right now, as a matter of fact.”
I went up to the front of the RV and sat in the copilot’s seat. Nate glared ahead as he navigated his way out of Ford Heights, a real crap hole of a place even without the zombies. Boarded up homes were everywhere, garbage all over the place. Several dead men stumbled out of buildings, but they could have been live junkies for all the difference it would make.
I handed a piece of paper to him and he grunted as he took it. I decided on a different tack.
In my best Darth Vader voice, I said “When I left you I was but the learner, now I am the master.”
Nate, a die hard Star Wars fan, couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “You’re a real smart ass, you know that?” I could see dozens of cars stalled out on the road as we passed under Route 396 and a line of cars backed up to the highway. Interstate 80 was up there and it was as useless to us as rubber bullets.
I grinned. “Gee, you think?” I swiveled in the chair and tapped his arm. “Stop here.”
Nate slowed the vehicle down. “Why here?” he asked. One side of the street was wooded with a few homes tucked away. On the other side was a small strip mall, with a copy pace and restaurant taking up most of the space.
I checked the mirrors and headed for the side door. “Check it out. Gun shop by the pizza place and the nail salon.” I pointed to the small store nestled in between pepperoni and pedicures.
“All right,” Nate said. “I need some back-up ammo, if you find any.”
“Will do.”
I nodded to Tommy to follow me and motioned for Duncan to cover us from the roof. We left the RV and scooted over the road to check out the small business. We avoided the cars in the lot and headed straight to the store. The front window had been smashed in and the door was broken as well, so I didn’t think we’d find anything, but it never hurt to look.
I picked up a chunk of glass and tossed it into the store, hoping to stir any waiting Z’s. Not hearing anything, I nodded to Tommy and went in first, SIG already out. The store was very narrow, barely ten feet wide. The counter area ran the length of the store and took up almost all usable space. Every case had been smashed in and there was dried blood on some of the glass, indicating that people had been desperate enough to smash the case with their bare hands.
The cases were empty as were the ones on the wall. We moved farther back and that’s when Tommy nudged me and pointed to the door that led to the back room. A pair of feet were stretched out, with the rest of the corpse still hidden. I moved closer and took a quick look in the back area and saw it was a really small gun range.
Bet the neighbors loved that, I thought, looking around the corner at the owner of the feet. He was a black man, about six feet tall, but his age was impossible to determine. He had been shot three times in the chest, likely trying to defend his business from looters. He was still wearing a holster, which based on the shape, once held a Government Model 1911. A quick glance around the office showed a lot of scattered papers, but nothing of value.
I stepped out and shook my head at Tommy, who nodded and started back to the door. He took two steps then stopped, staring at something near the floor of the display cases.
I tapped him on the shoulder, but he crouched down and pulled at a handle partially hidden under the lip of the case. A drawer came out and we were excited to see a bunch of different magazines for various guns. Tommy put about ten AR-15 mags in my backpack and I put a bunch of Glock and SIG magazines in his. We moved down the row of cases, pulling out the hidden drawers. We found gun cleaning kits, animal calling lures and a bunch of adult magazines. In the last drawer we found some ammo, but not a lot. There was two boxes of. 223, one box of. 38’s and three boxes of. 45 acp. We took it all, figuring to trade the bullets we didn’t need for stuff we could use.
My pack was full, so I carried the ammo in my left hand, keeping my right free to use my gun. Tommy and I scrunched our way through the broken glass and out into the parking lot. We threw a wave to Duncan on the roof of the RV and scampered over. Rounding the front of the RV, we ran smack into a trio of zombies.
