by Siara Brandt
Noby and his father lived in an apartment above the main bar in town, which was convenient because Noby’s father owned the bar. While the world as they knew it fell apart, Noby’s father continued doing what he had always done. With a handful of customers, he stayed holed up inside the bar drinking away his problems. His priority in life was a bottle. It always had been.
There in the unlit hallway, Noby said, “Let’s head back before dark. I want to stop at the shoe store and get us some good shoes.”
Shoes – good shoes – were important. You had to be fast on your feet these days if you wanted to survive.
But as Hezzie watched Noby’s face more closely, she realized there was something he wasn’t telling her. Something had shaken him, something he was trying to hide from her.
They had gone back to Noby’s apartment to get some things, along with some warmer clothing because the nights had turned unseasonably cold. Noby decided he should check on his father before they left. He hadn’t seen his father in almost two weeks. Noby always joked that his father, along with the other people in the bar, would probably stay there until the alcohol ran out, that you wouldn’t even know there was a zombie apocalypse going on.
“What did you see, Noby?”
Noby was stubborn, but she could be stubborn, too. She grabbed his arm and even though he was bigger than she was, she was able to stop him without too much effort. “Tell me.”
“We won’t be coming back here,” he finally said. It seemed like he aged by years in the next few seconds. “There’s nothing to come back her for. Not anymore.” In the faint light she could see the haunted look in his eyes.
“They got in,” he said.
In. She knew he meant the bar. And she knew there was nothing they could do.
“I wish I knew what happened to my grandmother,” Hezzie said because she didn’t know what else to say. It was easier to grope for something good from the past. Her grandmother had been a strong, stable influence in her life.
“I don’t know where else to look,” Noby said, his voice hollow from his own grief.
They had tried looking for her grandmother at her house. The house had been empty. They had tried the church where she had been very active. They had even tried the grocery store where she used to shop. They searched for her everywhere they could think of. In fact, they had taken some big risks looking for her. It was dangerous to be out on the streets. Hezzie had seen that for herself. What she didn’t know was that Myrtie Nezer was already out on those same streets desperately looking for her granddaughter.
Kel knew the moment that she had slipped away. The awful nothingness in her eyes told him that she wasn’t coming back. She had been the love of his life and he had lost her.
It didn’t hit him right away. His first reaction was disbelief, then numbness. But then his shoulders began to shake as heaving sobs wracked his body. His tears started to fall, enough, it seemed, to drown him in grief. He curled up into a place inside himself where the pain resided and he wept like a man whose soul had been torn in two.
His only consolation came from telling himself that he was glad she wasn’t going to be the one left behind, that she wouldn’t be left alone in this world. And he found himself wishing that he had listened to Lise. But it was too late for that now.
Chapter 10
Jes Rawlins backed out of the creek. The water was shallow here. It swirled well below the tops of his boots, but he could see that it dropped off considerably about five feet in front of him. The mud was ankle-deep already and he struggled back up the steep bank. It took everything in him to drag his boots out of the sucking mud while he kept his eyes glued on the water gurgling placidly by.
Two bodies were bobbing along upstream. Both were floating face down in the creek and they were being pulled steadily by the current. The bodies passed right by him and he continued to watch them as they disappeared around the next bend.
If he had any kind of a choice, he wouldn’t go into the water again. No telling how this could be spread. But he didn’t have a choice, not if he was going to reach Bron. Bron might have answers. If he could get to him. Sighing deeply, he started to move downstream, looking for a better place to cross.
A trip back to the city hadn’t been one of his better ideas. He’d thought there were important matters to take care of. His bank account, his rent, his bills. It turned out that none of those things mattered anymore. Now he was headed back to Stone Creek. No doubt Bron was wondering what had happened to him. With no phone communication it was impossible to contact each other. And with the internet down, it felt like they had been plunged back into the Stone Age where the priorities were food, shelter and evading predators. As much as Bron had tried to warn him, who could have foreseen that more than half the population would start looking at the other half as a food source practically over night?
At least he’d made it out of the city alive. Not everyone did. Having survived what he hoped was the worst of it, actually getting out of the city, his goal right now was to reach Bron’s place in one piece, a task that so far had proved so harrowing and so daunting that he hadn’t been able to think about much beyond just staying alive. He was in survival mode, had been for so long now that he didn’t even remember what normal was supposed to feel like. He had seen horrifying things, heart-wrenching things. Gut-wrenching things. Things that continued to give him nightmares at night.
Maybe the real tragedy was that when the sickness hit, some people – a lot of people – thought that getting the vaccine was going to save them. They even started breaking into doctor’s offices and health departments to find the vaccine when the organized vaccine programs started shutting down and locking their doors. Jes didn’t know how many people had died already, but he did know that if anyone stayed alive in all of this, it would be Bron. He’d paid attention to the signs and had some warning about what was to come, and that gave them an edge. But Jes had quickly learned that in this world you couldn’t predict everything. Sometimes you couldn’t predict anything at all. You just had to do what Bron had told him they would have to do. You prayed and hoped when all was said and done that you were meant to stay alive.
More than once, he had found himself wondering if the woman at the funeral home was safe. He’d check on her. Somehow. If he could find her. Right now, he needed food and water, both of which had become scarce commodities. He needed a good night’s sleep, too. He had only slept an hour, maybe two, last night. You had to stay alert if you were going to survive and right now? Crossing the creek where there weren’t any bodies in the water wasn’t his only consideration.
About twenty yards to his right, he saw a man step out of the dense undergrowth. Jes froze and held his breath, waiting for the man to turn and see him standing there. He had seen enough in the past few weeks to know that some kind of attack could be expected.
He waited, not moving, then saw the man stiffen right before his head turned. He seemed to sniff the air, like animals do when they catch a scent.
A tense second passed. Then another. And another. And then, without warning, the man began to run. Straight at Jes.
Jes already had his gun out. He pulled the trigger. There was no doubt that he had hit the running man. With a violent contraction of muscles, the man jerked to a stop. Then he flopped forward from his waist like a ragdoll. Jes knew the bullet had gone clean through the man’s body. When he straightened again, blood was pouring from a huge, gaping hole in his chest. It was a wound that would have taken any normal man out in the old world.
But this was not a normal man. And it sure as hell wasn’t the old world, because what should have been a kill shot only stunned the man.
Those ghoulish, colorless eyes fixed on Jes with a renewed savagery.
Knowing better than to hesitate, Jes shot again. The bullet passed through the man’s head this time. It jerked violently back, part of the skull blown away. For several long seconds, the head hung at an unnatural angle. And then the body pitched hea
vily to the ground, dead for sure this time.
Only when Jes was sure it wasn’t getting up again, did he look up and scan the surrounding woods, tense and alert, wondering if the sound of the shot would draw others.
He waited a while longer until he was reasonably sure it was clear, and then he continued his search for a safe crossing. He hadn’t expected his journey would take him this long, but then he hadn’t expected to be on foot, either. Still in survival mode, he knew he was going to have to find shelter soon. Darkness was fast approaching and darkness could be a bitch if you were out in the open. As he loped thru the forest, he thought about the woman at the funeral home again and how Bron had said things would fall apart fast, but not in a million years would he have guessed this fast.
Lise turned slowly. “What do you mean?” she asked Mirin.
It had been drizzling outside all morning and the sky was dark and overcast. With no lights on, and no heat, the kitchen was dim and cool enough for a sweater. It was just the two of them in the room, Lise and Mirin. For once, Bayley wasn’t hovering around his mother.
“I mean, we shouldn’t have panicked,” Mirin replied. “We should have gone home before- Before things got to this point.”
“From everything we heard, things were already bad in the cities when you made your decision,” Lise reminded her sister. “I don’t think it was based on panic.”
“We’re so isolated here, Lise. How do we even know what’s going on out there?”
“What’s going on out there is that some kind of plague is bringing the dead back to life and turning them into zombies.”
They had never actually said that word out loud. In fact, Mirin scoffed right now when Lise said it.
“Are you listening to yourself?” Mirin said with a breathless, higher-pitched edge to her voice. “There’s no such thing as zombies.”
“Whatever you want to call them, something dangerous is out there.”
“We’ve heard rumors, nothing that can be proven.”
No, that wasn’t true. They had seen their uncle. They had seen actual zombies from a distance. And there had been that one that had attacked their car. She couldn’t say that there wasn’t any proof.
“A few isolated cases of- whatever this sickness is, doesn’t mean- zombies,” Mirin continued to argue.
Everyone they had talked to had told them that it wasn’t safe to go outside, especially in populated areas. According to every report they had heard, whatever those things should be called, they were killers. Vicious killers who were unstoppable. They were especially lethal when there was a group of them. In fact, they had heard so many stories about brutal killings that there was no way not to believe them. So many people couldn’t be wrong.
Nearly a month had passed since the wake. It was a long time to be confined with the rest of her family. A very long time.
“A lot of people have told us that it’s much worse in the cities,” Lise reminded her sister.
Mirin scoffed again, more quietly this time, but didn’t express her opinion of what she thought about the opinions of what she termed Lise’s hillbilly neighbors.
“We’re safe here,” Lise said.
“Relatively safe. So far. But we agreed that- ”
“We?” Lise interrupted her. “Who exactly do you mean by we?”
“All of us,” Mirin answered her.
“You mean you’ve already discussed this?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
A week ago? And no one had thought to include her in their discussion or their plans?
“We have no way of knowing that things are the same everywhere else,” Mirin went on. “For all we know, this is a local problem.”
“You don’t think the loss of all communications is a big clue that whatever is going on is happening everywhere? That’s what the last news reports we heard indicated. That it’s even happening in other countries.”
“We’ve already decided we need to at least try to get home.”
Lise stared at her sister. “All of you?”
“Yes.”
Mirin got up and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee. “How could we even know what is really happening back home?” she asked when she sat down at the table again. “All we’ve been hearing are rumors. We don’t know if the people who are getting sick, the people who are- dying aren’t the people who didn’t get their shots? We should have gotten ours when they first offered them. We were warned that something bad would happen if people didn’t do what they were told. How could we be so irresponsible? How could we have stayed here and done nothing? We shouldn’t have- ” Mirin hesitated, obviously reluctant to finish what she had been about to say.
“Shouldn’t have stayed here with me,” Lise finished for her. “Even though we have been surviving here.”
“Barely.”
“Has it been that bad?”
Mirin’s only answer was a shrug of her sweater-clad shoulders. She picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, then set the cup down again. “We won’t know how things are unless we go back. If you decide to stay here, at least Gillie will be with you,” Lise heard. “Your house is small, Lise. It’s crowded.”
“We’ve been managing,” Lise said.
She looked up when Linwood and Floris walked into the kitchen. “You’re thinking about leaving, too?” she asked both of them.
They nodded.
“You’ve made up your minds then to definitely do this?”
It was clear that they had.
“When are you leaving?” Lise wanted to know.
“In a couple of days,” Mirin answered her. “There’s no reason to wait.”
“So soon.”
“We’ve made the decision that we think is best,” Mirin said. “You can always decide to come with us, you know.”
But Lise was never going to do that and they all knew it. Maybe that’s why no one had included her in their conversation. Gillie wasn’t here to speak for himself, but Lise knew that he would be staying, too. He would never be so foolish as to try and get into the city. Not after all they’d heard.
“If you need to come back here- ” Lise began.
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Mirin said. She hesitated before adding, “We’re not used to living so- primitive.”
Primitive. That was the word Bayley always used to describe the living conditions here. He wasn’t grateful for a bed to sleep in. He didn’t appreciate having food on the table. He still complained on a regular basis about his iphone not working. About no TV. About no internet. About not being able to play video games. As if the lack of all those things was Lise’s fault. He didn’t understand why they needed to have such a big supply of wood for the coming winter months or why he had to help with any of the chores. He hated feeding the chickens as much as he hated working in the greenhouse or the garden.
Lise turned as Bayley strolled into the kitchen, wearing a smug look on his face. She realized he must have heard the last part of their conversation. Or he had been eavesdropping all along, which was something he did a lot of.
Mirin said to Lise, “We hate the thought of leaving you here alone.”
“Gillie will be here,” Lise reminded her.
No one commented until Mirin said, “When we get settled, when we’re sure that things are starting to go back to normal, we’ll send word. Maybe by then you’ll change your mind.”
“How will you do that?” Lise asked. “How will you send word?”
“This can’t go on forever,” Mirin said as if Lise should already know that.
Mirin had never stopped believing that everything would suddenly start working one day and that this nightmare would all be over, that they could get back to their old lives as easily as flipping on a switch.
But Lise knew better. From all accounts, at least half the people in Stone Creek had turned into one of those undead things. By Lise’s calculations, if those same odds existed in the ci
ty . . .
“We thought you might let us have some food for our trip,” Mirin said.
“Yes, of course. You won’t make it without it. You’ll need a supply of water, too. And some kind of weapons,” Lise added.
“Weapons?” Mirin echoed, looking confused.
“To protect yourselves.”
“Guns aren’t the answer, Lise,” Linwood said as he walked into the room. His eyes shifted from Mirin to Lise behind his glasses. “Guns are dangerous,” he added. “We’ve decided to take two vehicles. Mirin’s and ours.”
“What about gas?” Lise asked.
“I’ll syphon it from abandoned vehicles,” Linwood replied.
There were plenty of those around.
“Have you ever done that before?” Lise asked. “Siphoned gas?”
“No.”
“It’s not as easy as it sounds.”
Lise looked at Mirin who said, “I know how hard this is for you.”
Actually, it wasn’t as hard as Mirin thought it would be. With fewer mouths to feed, things would be much easier. And the stress of being around Bayley on a daily basis wouldn’t be there anymore. As for the work, she could manage all of it by herself with Gillie’s help. But she couldn’t help feeling responsible for the rest of her family. She didn’t want to live out her days wondering what had happened to them.
In the end, however, there was nothing to do but accept the inevitable. “There’s nothing I can say or do that will change your minds, is there?”
Linwood shook his head. So did Floris who added, “We’ll see about getting our vaccines when we get back. It’s something you should think about, too, Lise. Even though they ran out of vaccines here, there’s every reason to believe they’re still available in the city.”
