Brushfire Plague Read online

  Cooper closed the gap to where Larry lay prostrate quickly, at a half crouch, keeping his eyes trained on the store. He still saw nothing.

  Larry had been shot, twice. The left side of his head, just above the ear had a gruesome crevice that had been carved by a bullet creasing across his head. A streak of congealed blood covered the path where his hair and skin had been shot away. A second round had hit him in the belly and it made a sickening sucking sound as he breathed in shallow breaths. Larry lay spread-eagled, both legs and arms akimbo. He had fallen, and fallen hard when he’d been shot. He had lost a lot of blood, with a puddle almost two feet in diameter from underneath his back. The other bullet had gone through and exited his back.

  “Larry, can you hear me?”

  A listless moan emitted from his lips, dry and hoarse. His left eye cracked open a millimeter. The brown iris looked at him with a sharply dilated pupil.

  “Larry, it’s me, Cooper Adams. What happened?” He had already torn off part of his t-shirt and was applying direct pressure to the stomach wound.

  “Don’t bother,” Larry croaked.

  “What?”

  “It hurts too much and it won’t matter. Been here too long,” he rasped. “Bleeding.”

  Cooper eased up on the pressure, but kept his hand in place. He had to do something. “What happened?”

  “Punks,” Larry coughed and blood spilled from his lips.

  “Stealing. I chased them. Stupid.” He wheezed and sprayed a mist of blood. Cooper ducked his head to avoid it.

  “Young guys, in a van.” Cooper felt his blood rush to his face and his right hand clenched.

  “Can I do anything for you?”

  “Tell Barb I love her and that it was a great life,” blood and emotion choked the last few words.

  “You’re a good man, Larry. One of the best I’ve ever known,” Cooper whispered to him, grabbing his hand.

  Larry’s eyes shut. He lay quietly for what seemed like an eternity, but lasted only a few more shallow breathes. Then, he was gone, and the feeble grip that had responded to Cooper’s went loose.

  Cooper bowed his head in silent reflection for a moment.

  Then, he turned his head toward the sky, raised his hands, open-palmed, and vented his wrath, “No need! There was no need for this man to die! Larry limped like a three legged dog, you could have just outrun him, you stupid bastards!”

  He stood up impatiently. He motioned for Mark to join him and he trotted over. Mark took one look at Larry, grew unsteady on his feet, and then vomited all over the hydrangea bush that lay next to him. He looked back toward Cooper, meekly.

  “It’s alright. Don’t feel bad, it’s what happens the first time you see a body that was killed violently.”

  “What happened?”

  “Some punks rousted his store and he chased them. One of them must have turned back and shot at him. They were either lucky or a very good shot. From the shell casings over there, they were over ten yards away when they fired. Not an easy shot when people are moving.” Cooper motioned toward the curb, about five feet from where the pickup was parked.

  Mark looked toward where he’d indicated and then wiped his mouth clean with the cuff of his sleeve, dirtying his blue cotton twill shirt.

  “OK. Let’s do what we came for. First, you’ll find a blanket for Larry. Then, I’ll load up the tools and things we came for in a wheelbarrow.”

  “Shouldn’t we call the police about Larry?”

  “I’m not seeing too much of the police today, I’m going to try and find Barbara’s number in the store and call her. I have a message to deliver to her.”

  Cooper quickly explained what he wanted Mark to do while they cleared the store. Cooper would take point with Mark providing another set of eyes and cover.

  They found no one in the store, just a few overturned shelves, a broken display case that held knives with some obviously missing, and a smashed cash register with coins of silver and copper scattered across the counter and onto the floor.

  “Looks like they took the big Rambo types,” Mark commented.

  Mark found a blanket and went outside. Cooper quickly found Barb’s number on a slip of paper taped to the wall near the register labeled “Personal” that was smudged and dirty from years of use. I’ll call her from the house because we need to move quickly. He pulled out the list of what they needed and moved through the store methodically. He knew the store’s layout well from his years of shopping at Larry’s. Larry had also been a customer of Cooper’s. He pulled a wheelbarrow inside to load it up.

  He was halfway done when Mark came back inside, with Jake in tow. “I figured it was safe to bring him in.”

  “Yeah, sure. Thanks. I’m loading up the supplies. Why don’t you get what you need?”

  Ten minutes later they had transferred their loads to the pickup.

  “We need one more run back inside,” Cooper said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Two things. We need to leave a list of what we’ve taken. And, I think we should get some lumber, the kind suitable for covering windows and doors.

  “Larry’s dead, what’s the point of leaving a list?” Mark asked.

  “Because Barbara isn’t.”

  Mark nodded gravely, “OK. Got it.” His mouth turned upward in a wry smile, “You are one honest bastard, Cooper.” Cooper simply shrugged his shoulders in reply.

  They took two wheelbarrows full of plywood and two by fours and left behind two signed notes detailing what they had taken from the store. They also left a brief note detailing how they had found Larry and what he had told them. Cooper didn’t think it would do much good, but he decided to call the police after all when he was back home. Maybe they would see the van and do something about it.

  ******

  The truck rumbled west again, steered toward Cooper’s home. Jake broke the silence.

  “Why did they kill Mr. Nevins?”

  Cooper glanced at his son, who returned a mixed expression of curiosity and apprehension at what he might hear. “There are some people that are bad people, son.”

  “Evil?”

  “Not evil. Careless, I think.”

  “Careless?”

  “Yeah, careless. They aren’t thinking about what they’re doing.

  They didn’t go there to kill anyone. But, they did kill because they were careless with a gun.”

  “What is an evil person, then?”

  Cooper thought for a moment before responding, “Evil is something bad done on purpose and is something that hurts people.”

  “So stealing isn’t evil?”

  “Stealing is bad, but it isn’t evil. Things can always be replaced, but people can’t be.” Cooper’s throat tightened on the last two words as he thought of Elena.

  Jake had the same thought and his eyes filled with tears.

  “Well, lookey here!” Mark shouted out. Cooper’s grip tightened on the steering wheel with his left hand and his right immediately went to his holster.

  About twenty yards up, two people were approaching each other. The first was an ill-kept man, dressed in a motley collection of ragged clothes, including a red down jacket with several puffs of white feathers sticking out through the torn fabric. He looked to be in his sixties, white bedraggled hair sticking out haphazardly from a green, well-worn, woolen cap. Like the jacket, several wisps of hair stuck out of holes in the hat. The old man pushed a shopping cart full of supplies, but mostly the cart was full of several cases of bottled water. The man struggled pushing the weight.

  Opposite him and coming toward him at a fast walk was a man wearing a matching Columbia jogging suit and windproof jacket, all black. He was middle-aged, with gray staining the sides of his head. He wore an athletic build, but beset by his age; flab beginning to show on his sides and in his face. He had neatly trimmed black eyebrows, framing deep-set blue eyes. He was gesticulating wildly as he shouted to get the man’s attention. Cooper couldn’t help but notice his manicured han
ds as he did so.

  Cooper pulled the truck to the curb and reflexively pushed Jake’s head below the dashboard.

  “Stay here,” he muttered as he slid out of the pickup, and stood behind the opened door. They were only about fifteen yards away, so Cooper pulled the pistol out of its holster, but kept it out of view.

  “Old man! Old man!” The well-dressed man shouted from ten feet away.

  “I ain’t deaf, son! Whatchya want?” the white-haired man replied gruffly.

  “Water. Just water, my friend. The stores are all out. I’ll pay you. Whatever you want.”

  The old man began laughing. “Money? Now?” He paused, scratching his head, “Let me ask you a question, son. Did you ever give me anything when I was standing at the freeway entrance with my cardboard sign?”

  The black-suited man looked confused, “I…I don’t know. I don’t remember ever seeing you there.”

  Cooper couldn’t see the old man’s face from this angle, but he heard a wry smile in his voice, “I’m not talking about just me. It’s all of us. We’re all the same. Did you ever give anything to anybody at the freeway exit?”

  He dipped his head, “No…no I didn’t….but I have lots of money now.” He pulled out a handful of twenty and hundred dollar bills from his pocket.

  Cooper heard the old man laughing again, “I thought not. I don’t need your money now. Just tell me, why I should give you any of my water.”

  The other man was flummoxed and shifted his feet restlessly. Finally, he turned his head back up toward the old man, outstretched his hands, and whined, “Because I need it?”

  The old man rocked back onto his heels and nodded, “Exactly. That’s a good enough reason to give someone something isn’t it? They need it. Take a case and I hope you remember that, son.”

  The other man hesitated for a moment, surprised at the man’s answer. His eyes flashed in a moment of recognition at the other man’s point. Then, he grabbed a case from the man’s cart, leaving three remaining, muttered a ‘thank you’ and rushed off towards a BMW parked across the street.

  Cooper turned to look across the cab in amused surprise at Mark. He saw Jake, eyes perched just over the dashboard. He wagged his finger at him in reproach, but couldn’t help smiling.

  He briskly walked toward the old man, re-holstering his pistol, “Old timer, hold up a minute.”

  The old man turned toward him. Mark and Jake came up behind Cooper.

  “That was a nice thing you just did.”

  “Nice? No. Necessary, but not nice.”

  “Why’d you do it,” Jake piped up.

  The old man bent slightly and looked at Jake, “Just like I done said. He needed the water, so I gave it to him.”

  “But, you needed lots of things and no one gave them to you? People just don’t give things to those who need them, that’s just the way things work in this world,” Mark blurted out in surprise.

  The old man turned towards Mark, “And, look around, son,” he waved his left hand in a wide circle. “That way doesn’t work very well, does it?”

  Everyone thought in silence for a few moments. Then, Cooper cut in, “But what about you? Do you have enough water now? Do you need anymore?”

  The old man laughed again, sparking a brief wet cough. “I’ve got plenty. This water isn’t for me. It’s for them.” Again, he gestured in a wide arc, with both hands this time. He then turned back towards his cart, grabbed it with both hands and began lumbering back up the boulevard, whistling faintly as he did so.

  The three of them looked at each with bemused smiles and wagging of heads.

  “Dad, was that a good man?”

  “Yes, son. It certainly was. One of the best, I’d say.”

  They turned back towards the pickup.

  Chapter 11

  The lightheartedness induced by the old man and the lessons he taught amidst the chaos and death was wrenched away from them on their journey home. When they passed the wreck that they had skirted on the way to the hardware store, the body of the woman who had begged them to take her to the waterfront lay in the street. Her body lay twisted in a gruesome mockery of a rag doll; torn and bloody. Her legs were outstretched in opposite directions. They looked like they had been squashed by a vehicle driving over them. Her arms lay directly above her head, as if reaching for something. Her chest was a mash of red and gore. She had been hit multiple times with a large caliber rifle of some kind. Mercifully, her face was a picture of peace and perfection, a tight-lipped smile concealing her misshapen teeth and her eyes gazed skyward as if beholding the gates of Heaven itself. Cooper tried to shield Jake’s eyes from the horrific scene, but it was too late.

  A few hundred yards further up the road, a blue Corolla was listless, with its right wheels stuck over the curb and blocking the sidewalk. It was another bloody mess. All the windows had been shot out and the car’s body was riddled with bullet holes. Inside, it was a morbid jumble of blood and flesh torn asunder.

  Mark whistled, “What the hell?” He shot up a hand to block Jake’s view, beating Cooper’s own flashing hand. Jake’s eyes squinted and his mouth fell open in shock. His left hand shot instinctively to cover his mouth as he gagged.

  “Keep an eye out, have your pistol at the ready!” Cooper barked. He drew his own pistol and gunned his motor, in hope of throwing any would-be ambushers off their plan. “Jake, get down!” Jake slithered down below the dashboard and curled up between the legs of the two men.

  Cooper’s eyes scanned the surrounding buildings and shrubs. He saw nothing as the pickup pulled alongside the car. He could not help but looking inside. The scene that met his eyes made everything pass in slow motion.

  A family lay slaughtered. The father was slumped over the steering wheel. A shotgun blast had taken off the top half of his head, which lay flopped over, like a Pez dispenser. In the passenger seat, a woman sat upright, eyes open looking blankly ahead. She looked oddly peaceful, save two softball sized bloody wounds in her torso. One was right over her heart and the other in her stomach. In the rear seat were three children, with a toddler in the middle strapped into her car seat. The close stitching of bullet holes and wounds told him that all three had been cut almost in half by a submachine gun blast from close range. The boy closest to them, with a shock of blonde hair standing out amidst all the blood, had powder burns on his face. He couldn’t have been older than twelve.

  Mark frantically lowered his window and gulped fresh air. Cooper clamped down his jaw and gritted his teeth. Anger flushed blood to his face and he tightened his grip on the pistol until his fingers hurt.

  Mark brought his head back inside the cab, “What was this? Did they shoot them up close?”

  “It was point blank. See those dark marks around the boy? Those are powder burns. This was up close, execution style.”

  Mark’s jaw dropped, “Sick bastards.”

  “The wheels have come off.”

  Mark looked puzzled, “What’d you say?”

  Cooper returned a grim look, his lips tight, “The wheels have come off the cart. The protective veneer of civilization is coming off in large swaths, as fast as a buzz saw would make its way through pressboard furniture. We’ve descended to the law of the jungle. Use whatever favorite expression you want. But, we’re in a different world now. The rules and laws are gone. When that happens, those who have been kept in check by those very same rules and laws will now cross over,” he paused surveying the mess in the car once more and then turned back towards Mark. “With devastating results.”

  “The psychos you mean?”

  “Not just the psychos. This here was the work of at least two people. Cooperating. One firing a shotgun and the other wielding a damned submachine gun! So, not just the crazy. We also have to worry about the near crazy, those with fantasies, those who celebrate violence, those with a grudge against society, etcetera, and etcetera. They will all now be equally dangerous to you and me.”

  Mark slumped in his seat, “My God.�
��

  Cooper caught Jake’s wide-eyed expression. “Mark…and Jake…we will be alright. We just have to keep our eyes open and our wits about us. We need to stay armed, at all times now. And, we will need to get our neighbors organized.”

  “Organized? What good will that do against this?”

  “Plenty. This will sound cold, but we don’t have to outrun the bear, just outrun the others that the bear is chasing.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Mark shot back.

  “It is simple really. The lone psychos won’t stand a chance against a group that is armed, however ragtag they are. And, the organized predators will go where it is easiest. They always have and always will. Simply by getting our act together, we can keep ourselves safe. Trust me, there will be plenty of places where they won’t get themselves organized. That’s where the bad boys will go.”

  Mark sighed, “Wow that is calculated. But, it sounds true.”

  As they rounded the last corner to Cooper’s house, Mark continued, “So, what do we do now?”

  Mark’s question sparked something deep inside Cooper. He felt alive again. Not since he had received the urgent phone call from Elena a few days ago had he felt such a jolt. He felt a strong sense of purpose well up inside of him from down deep. He knew what he had to do. He needed to plan for not only his welfare and Jake’s, he had to keep as many people safe as he could during this troubled time. His father’s words came back to him. Do the greatest good for the greatest number. His father had been trying to help people get a little more out of jobs. A slightly larger paycheck. More time with their families. A more secure pension. Cooper knew he’d be simply helping people survive. Cooper couldn’t help but gaze skyward and deliver a deliberate wink.

  Mark watched Cooper with a quizzical expression before Cooper turned back toward him, his eyes blazing with intensity, “We need to get organized.”

  Mark looked blankly at him, “Can you speak English please?”

  Cooper chuckled before continuing, “First, we need to survey the block. Figure out who is sick and who has died. We need to seal them into their rooms to limit the smell.”