Free You and Me against the World: The Creepers Saga Book 1 by Raymond Esposito

wave two, the new folks were welcomed but with less enthusiasm and with fewer parties. By wave three, the moving trucks came and went with no fanfare. People nodded more than they waved, and they might know the family next door but not the one next door to them. Thorn had been here through all three waves, and now he painfully missed those former days.
    Susan insisted he take the gun, but he refused.
    “I won’t need it.”
    “You might.”
    “I won’t and I’ll be quick.”
    “Then at least take the baseball bat.” She handed him the wooden bat she had found in the garage.
    He slipped out the front door and waited to hear it lock as he had instructed.
    The dead bolt clicked.
    It’s a neighborly day in this deadly wood
     
    Thorn walked to his neighbor’s house and knocked on the door. Jerry was a sheriff’s deputy and probably in a heap of shit right now. Thorn didn’t know if Jerry’s wife or kids were home, but after five minutes without a response, he assumed they were gone. The next house stood empty, a sun-bleached For Sale sign posted on the slightly overgrown lawn. At the next two houses, he got no response. He had given up hope when Carrie May opened the door of the fifth house. Carrie, like him, was a “first waver.” She was dressed in a robe, her nose was red, and her eyes were watery.
    “Hi, Dr. Thorn. Are you here to make a house call?”
    “Sort of. Is Bill home?”
    “No, he’s at work. Something I can help you with?”
    “Have you seen the news or listened to the radio?”
    “No, I’ve been sleeping most of the day. Can’t shake this flu. I am freezing, and I know it’s at least a hundred degrees outside.”
    “I don’t want to alarm you, but I want you to lock up the house and stay inside no matter what.”
    Carrie looked at him. “What’s going on, Dr. Thorn?”
    “I’m not sure, Carrie, but it’s bad. Really bad. Lock up the house and watch the news. I’ll check in on you later.”
    Thorn felt terrible. The plan was to bring people back to his house. Carrie was in the last stages of the virus. In less than an hour, she would be dangerous. He could do nothing for her.
    The next occupied house was on the opposite corner lot from his own. A fit, older woman of about sixty-five answered his knock.
    “Hello, ma’am, my name is Russell Thorn.”
    “Yes, I know who you are, Doctor. How can I help you?” Her overt suspiciousness made him uneasy.
    “Are you home alone?”
    “What do you want, sir?”
    “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, but have you watched or listened to the news?”
    “Yes, I am well aware of the riots.”
    “Ma’am”—he thought hard to recall the name on the mailbox—“Mrs. Genson, please listen to me, these are not just riots. People are getting sick and—”
    “Well, do not worry about me, Doctor. I was a school nurse for over forty-five years, and I can take care of myself.”
    “Mrs. Genson, I’m certain you can, but this sickness is a little more than—”
    “Thank you for stopping by, Doctor, but I am letting the conditioned air out and need to close the door now.”
    She didn’t wait for a reply. She closed the door and left him standing on her walkway.
    Thorn turned and walked back to the street. Maybe he should have brought Susan; maybe she could have convinced the old woman to hear them out.
    When he heard the loud rumble, his first thought was that Mrs. Genson had returned to her front door to scream at him. Then he saw the giant yellow bus come around the far corner. It was moving too fast and crossed onto a lawn. It lurched dangerously to its side, and the tires tore deep wells into the grass. The engine roared as it righted itself and then shot back onto the tarmac. It regained speed but the angle was all wrong if the driver wished to stay on the road. A mailbox and pole disappeared beneath its silver grill as the bus sped across first one lawn and then another. There was a terrible grinding noise as the bus rubbed