Read Online The Last Days of October by Jackson Spencer Bell - Free Book Online

from some neighbor’s driveway, but this would have
required her to enter their house to get the keys.   Houses had closets and rooms without windows.   Mike hadn’t remained in their home after his
turning, but she couldn’t be sure the same applied to her neighbors.   One of those things could jump her when she
tried to steal its car.   It could bite
her, drink her blood.  
    Turn her into one
of them.
    Anyway, what was
it Mike always said about “check engine” lights?   Emissions control bullshit.   Wouldn’t even be worth fixing if it didn’t
have to pass inspection.   Worry about it
later.  
    Right , she thought.   Later.
    As she drove, her
left arm stung where she had cut it.   It
burned like a brand—proof of her insanity.   She had seen the crawlspace door slightly ajar this morning and realized
immediately where Mike spent his days.   And so, like any loving wife, she fed him.   She got a knife and a rag from the kitchen
and let the blood flow.   For a moment,
she thought she’d nicked a vein, she bled so much.   But then the little river slowed, then
stopped.   She threw the rag under the
house.   She heard something scraping
across the vapor barrier, and then she heard nothing.   The rag must have satisfied him.
    She drove slowly
through town.   Jack-o’lanterns smiled
back at her from porches where no trick-or-treaters would tread this Halloween,
smiling because they couldn’t turn around and look at the houses behind them.   They couldn’t see the hideous black crosses
on the doors.   If they could do that,
they wouldn’t grin anymore.
    The first order of
the day would be to locate other survivors, she thought.   And there would be some—there had to be.   If not here, then further down the highway in
Burlington, which was at least three times the size of Deep Creek.   Get on the interstate down there and make
their way to the army base at Fort
Bragg.   The army would have established a disaster
relief center, fortifications to keep people safe at night.   They’d have things under control.
    And hell, for all
she knew this vampire business could be a purely local issue.   They could ride down the road and run into a
cordon of troops and military vehicles establishing a quarantine zone.   Heather didn’t want her and Amber to have to stay in a quarantine zone, but knowing
that one existed, knowing that the rest of the world hadn’t died along with the
citizens of Deep Creek, would have been a relief.
    There’s no quarantine zone.   And this is not a local problem.   You know that.
    “We don’t know
anything at this point,” Heather retorted aloud.
    Yes, you do.   Look at the sky and think: when was the last time there was a disaster
and the skies weren’t buzzing with planes and helicopters?
    She willed the
voice silent.
    Revolution
Hardware downtown had a camping and outdoors section where she’d picked up
supplies for their trip back when everything was normal.   She remembered bottled water, racks of beef
jerky and canned food.   Water
purification tablets, solar chargers, rechargeable batteries.   Hurricane lanterns.   All things they would need.   She parked in a metered space in front of the
store and grabbed the Ruger from the seat beside her as she got out.   She was about to try the door when something
reflected in the glass storefront caught her eye.
    Directly behind
her, the Morgan County Justice Building sat buffered from Third Street by a
short green lawn and a sidewalk.   A
walkway wide enough for two cars to pass each other led from the glass entrance
of the courthouse down to the street.   In
the center of the circle bulging at the midpoint of the walkway stood a
concrete monument, inscribed with the names of Morgan County’s war dead.   Benches sat on either side of the monument,
well-kept evergreen shrubs lining the sidewalks to keep pedestrians from
straying onto the grass.
    And above the curb
dangled the first of six bodies