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Authors: P. Mark DeBryan
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stagecoaches in the area. The state used eminent domain to force Ted to sell it and rebuild here ten years ago when they put through a new toll road connecting West Virginia to southwestern Pennsylvania.
“My wife told me I ought to close up shop an’ retire, but I figgered I still had a few good years in me. Was goin’ to leave it to my son.” He stopped working for a minute, stood erect, and produced a hanky from his back pocket. He gave his nose a mighty blow, folded the handkerchief, and dabbed his eyes before putting it back.
“When did you lose him and your wife?” Jay asked quietly.
“Lost ’em both to this damn flu” was all he said. He then busied himself with empting the mop bucket before she could even get out a word.
Ted packed her saddlebags full to overflowing with more water and snacks. “Now you be careful, young lady. I want you to stop back by here when all this passes, an’ trust me, it will pass.” He winked and smiled at her.
“Despite the circumstances, it was a pleasure meeting you, Ted. You take care.” And with that she started the Harley, put it in gear, and pulled away slowly, hoping beyond hope he was right.
Chapter 7
Day 2
Route 19 South
Oak Hill, WV
Dr. Julian Ruegg
Julian staggered under the weight of his son. He’d been carrying the boy piggyback since daybreak. The car had died before sunrise. They’d been on foot since then. He missed a step and his toe caught the edge of the pavement. He tumbled forward, falling into the abyss of unconsciousness.
His face was on fire. Someone was shaking him. It was his wife. No, she was dead. “Daddy, wake up, daddy!” His eyes focused on Simon, his son. “Daddy, wake up, someone is coming, wake up!” The darkness returned.
He woke; the cold of hard-packed earth on his face was the opposite of his last memory. He rolled his head. Simon was asleep next to him. He had the strength to gather his son into his arms. Then he disappeared again.
He felt something kick the sole of his shoe. Clambering out of his foggy dreamworld, he roused.
“Hey, you going to live?”
He rolled over and blinked, trying to bring the figure above him into focus.
He brought his head up off the dirt floor. “Where am I?”
The man laughed. “You’re in my root cellar. I stuck you two down here when I found you on Route 19, baking in the sun. I figured your boy wasn’t much of a threat, but I didn’t want you bushwhacking me, so… here we are.”
Julian finally zeroed in on him. He was short, bowlegged, with close-cropped grayish-brown hair and an eighties-style mustache that was obviously died dark brown. He wore thick glasses that distorted his eyes a little.
“Where is my son?”
“He’s fine, upstairs; you want me to get him?”
“I want to go to him.”
The man peered at him through his glasses. “Not until we talk a bit more. Who are you and where were you headed when I found you?”
Julian thought about telling him the truth. That he was responsible for the people who had turned into deranged killers and he was headed for the CDC in Atlanta to try and fix things. But that didn’t seem like a good idea.
“My name is Julian. We are headed to Atlanta, Georgia. I have… friends there. Our car broke down, and we were trying to find another one to replace it. I had been without sleep for several days. I imagine that I must have passed out.”
“Well, you’re fortunate that I was the one who found you. Not many folks out and about these days, not any you’d wish to run across anyhow. Atlanta is quite some distance. You might want to think about finding some place to weather this, this… whatever this is, out.”
“I appreciate your concern, sir, but it is essential that I make it to Atlanta as soon as possible.”
“Don’t call me sir; my name is Shaun, Shaun Pierce. Moreover, if you have your mind set on trying to get to Atlanta, that would be your business. I don’t give you great odds on getting
“My wife told me I ought to close up shop an’ retire, but I figgered I still had a few good years in me. Was goin’ to leave it to my son.” He stopped working for a minute, stood erect, and produced a hanky from his back pocket. He gave his nose a mighty blow, folded the handkerchief, and dabbed his eyes before putting it back.
“When did you lose him and your wife?” Jay asked quietly.
“Lost ’em both to this damn flu” was all he said. He then busied himself with empting the mop bucket before she could even get out a word.
Ted packed her saddlebags full to overflowing with more water and snacks. “Now you be careful, young lady. I want you to stop back by here when all this passes, an’ trust me, it will pass.” He winked and smiled at her.
“Despite the circumstances, it was a pleasure meeting you, Ted. You take care.” And with that she started the Harley, put it in gear, and pulled away slowly, hoping beyond hope he was right.
Chapter 7
Day 2
Route 19 South
Oak Hill, WV
Dr. Julian Ruegg
Julian staggered under the weight of his son. He’d been carrying the boy piggyback since daybreak. The car had died before sunrise. They’d been on foot since then. He missed a step and his toe caught the edge of the pavement. He tumbled forward, falling into the abyss of unconsciousness.
His face was on fire. Someone was shaking him. It was his wife. No, she was dead. “Daddy, wake up, daddy!” His eyes focused on Simon, his son. “Daddy, wake up, someone is coming, wake up!” The darkness returned.
He woke; the cold of hard-packed earth on his face was the opposite of his last memory. He rolled his head. Simon was asleep next to him. He had the strength to gather his son into his arms. Then he disappeared again.
He felt something kick the sole of his shoe. Clambering out of his foggy dreamworld, he roused.
“Hey, you going to live?”
He rolled over and blinked, trying to bring the figure above him into focus.
He brought his head up off the dirt floor. “Where am I?”
The man laughed. “You’re in my root cellar. I stuck you two down here when I found you on Route 19, baking in the sun. I figured your boy wasn’t much of a threat, but I didn’t want you bushwhacking me, so… here we are.”
Julian finally zeroed in on him. He was short, bowlegged, with close-cropped grayish-brown hair and an eighties-style mustache that was obviously died dark brown. He wore thick glasses that distorted his eyes a little.
“Where is my son?”
“He’s fine, upstairs; you want me to get him?”
“I want to go to him.”
The man peered at him through his glasses. “Not until we talk a bit more. Who are you and where were you headed when I found you?”
Julian thought about telling him the truth. That he was responsible for the people who had turned into deranged killers and he was headed for the CDC in Atlanta to try and fix things. But that didn’t seem like a good idea.
“My name is Julian. We are headed to Atlanta, Georgia. I have… friends there. Our car broke down, and we were trying to find another one to replace it. I had been without sleep for several days. I imagine that I must have passed out.”
“Well, you’re fortunate that I was the one who found you. Not many folks out and about these days, not any you’d wish to run across anyhow. Atlanta is quite some distance. You might want to think about finding some place to weather this, this… whatever this is, out.”
“I appreciate your concern, sir, but it is essential that I make it to Atlanta as soon as possible.”
“Don’t call me sir; my name is Shaun, Shaun Pierce. Moreover, if you have your mind set on trying to get to Atlanta, that would be your business. I don’t give you great odds on getting
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