by Dziekan, PJ
“We’ll meet at the Jeep.” Sarah headed into her room, grabbed her backpack, and headed out the front door. Everyone noticed that she hadn’t spoken to Mick but no one commented.
♦
Sarah was in the shed, looking for something, anything, that might be worth Ryan’s life in trade. If she could avoid bloodshed, she would, but she was getting Ryan back. She was reaching for a carton of cigarettes that she and Mick had found months earlier when she heard a noise. She spun around to see April standing in the doorway. “Is this a good idea?” The former medic asked.
“Of course, it is. We can’t leave one of our own out there if there’s a chance to save him.”
“Not that,” April scoffed. “You. Going out there.”
Sarah leaned against the workbench. “I’ve known I was pregnant for over a month,” she said. “Did you?”
April shook her head. “No, of course not.”
“Because I didn’t change. I didn’t change what I did or how I acted.” Sarah rubbed her forehead. “I’m still me. I’m still one of the best we have for something like this. Until I’m not, I’m going to keep doing this.” Just over April’s shoulder, she spotted Mick walking down the porch steps, backpack in hand. Dylan and Becca were right behind him, Dominic bringing up the rear. “No matter who thinks otherwise.” She dumped the cigarettes in her backpack and shrugged it on her shoulders. She walked out of the shed, April right behind her.
April sighed. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?
“I’d like to say as long as it takes, but that’s not realistic. We’ll be gone no more than a month.” Sarah reached the Jeep. “You’ll be OK?”
April nodded. “We’ll be fine. Go get Ryan and take care of yourself, OK?”
“OK.” Never a touchy-feely person, nonetheless, Sarah reached out and clasped April’s arm. April laughed and pulled Sarah into a hug. Sarah went stiff for a moment then relaxed into the embrace, awkwardly patting April on the back.
“As much as you’re fueling my fantasies, let’s get this show on the road, ladies,” Dylan said.
“You’re such a pig, Dylan,” April said, rolling her eyes. She pulled away from Sarah, clasping her upper arms. “Be careful, OK?”
“I will. You, too, OK?” April nodded. “Let’s go, people.” Sarah opened the back door, slid in.
Dylan looked over at Mick, who had his hand on the driver’s side door. “Trouble in paradise?” He asked with a smirk.
“Get in the car, Dylan,” Mick muttered, pulling open the driver door and plopping inside. He slammed the door.
“Ass,” Becca directed at Dylan as she got in the back seat. Dylan shrugged as he got in the front seat with Mick. They pulled slowly from the yard, April and Dominic waving. Sarah hoped that wasn’t the last good memory she would have.
“I got some details out of Jack, about where they were,” Dylan said. “He wasn’t completely clear, but I have a general idea of which way to go.”
“Which is?” Mick asked.
“West.”
“There’s a town called Sugar Creek north of here,” Mick answered. “If they were taking him there, that’s where we should head.”
“We should start at the site,” Sarah spoke up from the back seat. “Retrace their path. In case…” She stopped.
“In case what?” Mick turned west once they were on the main road. “In case he’s dead?” His voice was strained.
“Yes.” Sarah’s voice was even. “Or if he escaped.” After Jack’s story, no one believed Ryan escaped. Silence reigned in the Jeep as no one wanted to voice their thoughts.
They drove in silence for another hour until they came to an abandoned gas station. “Jack said they turned right here.” Dylan broke the silence.
Mick made the turn, not bothering with a turn signal. “What’s next?”
Sarah half listened as Dylan gave Mick directions. She looked out the window, watching the desolate landscape. Grass was growing, flowers were blooming, but the land looked wrong. It didn’t look like it was waking up; it looked like it was struggling to survive.
There were still cars littering the roads, paint dulled from the weather, tires flat. Some of those, she knew, held the mummified corpses of those not lucky enough to survive. Some of those, she feared, held the animated remains of those not lucky enough to truly die.
In the six months since the end of the world, the buildings fared little better. Most were damaged, windows smashed, contents looted. They passed a former day care center, the building so charred you could barely see the once colorful cartoon mural on the front. Why would anyone want to burn a daycare? Don’t think about it, her inner voice warned. Her hands went to her belly.
“Do you need to stop?” Becca asked softly.
As Sarah shook her head, Mick’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. “Do you need to make a stop?”
“I’m fine,” she snapped.
“Who pissed in your cereal?” Dylan asked.
“Dylan—” Becca began but he interrupted her.
“No, if we’re going to be riding together for who knows how long, I don’t want to deal with petty bullshit. The lovebirds need to kiss and make up.”
“Fuck you, Dylan, we put up with your petty bullshit all the time,” Sarah spat. “I’m not letting you or any other man dictate what I do.”
“Sarah, you know you’d be better off back at camp,” Mick said. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for you, for--”
“Just because you’re sleeping with me, you don’t have the right to order me around.” Sarah sighed. “If you can’t see that, Mick…” She trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
“I’m not ordering you around because I’m sleeping with you. You’re carrying my baby, Sarah. Put that above your own needs for once.”
“Wait, what?” Dylan said. So focused on Sarah, Mick had forgotten he was there. Dylan turned in his seat and looked at Sarah. “You’re pregnant?”
He didn’t know. That’s why he didn’t have a sarcastic comment earlier. “Yes,” she said through gritted teeth, bracing for his verbal onslaught.
“Awesome!” Dylan exclaimed, shocking everyone in the car. “A kid, that’s great!”
“Wh-what?” Sarah asked, completely confused.
“Children mean we can come back. We can win.” He turned to face front again. “Gives us something to fight for.” His voice was low, laced with pain. Sarah wondered what had happened, who he had lost to hurt like that.
Sarah’s eyes met Mick’s in the mirror. She looked away first. “I’m sorry, Dylan, I thought you knew,” she said. She sighed deeply and slumped back in her seat. “Everyone else does.”
“Guess I missed that announcement,” Dylan replied. “How far along are you?”
“’Bout three months, I think.”
“So, you’ll still be good for a few more months yet.”
“What does that mean?” Mick demanded, cutting his eyes to Dylan, then back to the road.
Sarah smiled. She knew exactly what he meant. But she let Dylan explain it. “She’ll be able to move, contribute,” Dylan said. “She’ll still be able to wield her pipe, at least a few months yet.”
“Are you fucking crazy?” Mick exploded. “She’s pregnant; she’s not some fucking warrior!”
“Mick, she’s the best fighter out of all of us, as much as it pains me to admit it.’ Sarah couldn’t help react to Dylan’s words. A smile crept over her face. “As long as she is physically able, then she should continue. For years, women worked in the fields, popped out a kid, then kept right on working.”
“In primitive times!” Mick yelled. “These aren’t the dark ages.”
“Don’t be too sure,” Becca said. “Everything’s different, Mick. You know that.”
“Look,” Mick said. Sarah could tell he was biting back his anger. “All I want is what’s best for Sarah. What’s best for my baby.”
“Did you even ask me what was best for me?” She said softly fr
om the back seat. “Did you ask what was best for the baby?” She met his eyes in the mirror and swallowed. “What’s best is if the two of us were living in another time, where we could be going to regular doctor’s appointments and furnishing a nursery. Accepting congratulations from our families and friends. Fighting over names, not fighting zombies. Or each other.” She focused on the bruise on his cheek, where he had smacked into a door to avoid a zombie on a recent run. She swallowed again, the lump in her throat promising tears. “What’s best is if you aren’t in danger, either.” She saw the realization in his eyes. “We stay together, Mick, in good and bad. That’s what’s best for me. That’s what’s best for the baby.” She turned her head and looked out the window, fighting back tears.
CHAPTER SIX
Sarah dozed as they moved on, hearing snippets of soft conversation from Becca and Dylan, only occasionally from Mick. When she heard a door open, she realized they were no longer moving and opened her eyes, blinking at the unfamiliar view. “Where are we?” She asked.
“Dylan thinks this is where they camped,” Becca answered as she unbuckled her seat belt. “Jack told them they camped between a burned-out gas station and a field.” She nodded out the window.
Sarah unbuckled her belt and opened her door. She walked around the Jeep and saw Mick and Dylan already headed toward the woods. She looked up and down the road and saw nothing. Still, she opened the hatch and pulled out her pipe before following the guys, Becca on her heels.
Dylan was poking at a fire ring while Mick studied the ground. “Find anything?” Sarah asked.
“Someone camped here, not sure if it was them,” Dylan said.
“It was them,” Mick remarked. He bent and pulled on fabric half buried in the ground. He shook the dirt from the shirt and held it out to Sarah. “This is Ryan’s.” Sarah took it in her hand and looked down at it. “Wallbanger” was written across the front. She remembered seeing Ryan wearing the shirt. She looked up at Mick. “He made them as a joke when I joined the band.” He huffed out a laugh. “I think he was the only one who wore it.”
“We’ll find him, Mick,” Sarah said softly.
“What if we don’t? What if he’s dead?”
“Then we’ll get the fuckers that killed him.” Sarah’s eyes were fierce.
“Damn, pregnancy’s made you vicious,” Dylan said, brushing the soot from his hands.
“Dylan!” Becca exclaimed.
Sarah let out a soft laugh. “It wasn’t the pregnancy, Dylan.” She leaned her pipe against her leg and shook out the shirt in her hands. She quickly folded it and laid it over her arm. “Where to now? Any ideas?”
“Guess we head to Sugar Creek,” Mick said.
“Too bad we weren’t here a few days ago.” Dylan looked out over the campsite. “We’d probably be able to tell which way they went.”
“I think Jack was lucky to make it back when he did,” Becca said.
“He’s a strong kid, he’ll be fine.” Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw movement in the trees. She handed the shirt to Mick and reached for her pipe as she slowly turned her head to watch the woods.
“You see something?” Mick asked, moving closer.
“I saw something.”
“All right, let’s go,” Mick said. “We’ll get a little further then take a short break.”
“Why not here?” Dylan asked.
“’Cause we got company.” Sarah brought her pipe up and shifted her stance. A zombie was slowly shambling towards them, stumbling through the thin brush that separated the campsite from the woods. While his clothes were faded and dirty, they could see from the dull orange bands on his arms that he was a hunter, probably surprised in the woods on that fateful day.
“That’s only one,” Dylan scoffed. At Dylan’s voice, the zombie moaned, moving a little faster toward food.
“Usually where there’s one, there’s more,” Mick said. “Besides, I don’t want to be out in the open if I can help it.”
“Good idea.” Becca eyed the approaching zombie. “Let’s go.”
With a grunt of disgust, Dylan turned and headed back to the car. With a last glance at the zombie, Becca followed.
“C’mon, Sarah.” Mick held out his hand.
“Just a minute.” The zombie was about ten feet away.
“Leave him, Sarah.”
“No, Mick. I wouldn’t want to be left like that. I’m sure he doesn’t either.” She hefted her pipe like a bat and took a deep breath.
The creature was only a few feet away, reaching for her, his low moan sending a shiver down her spine. She swung the pipe, the metal connecting with the side of his head, just above the ear, caving in his skull. He dropped in a boneless heap.
“Now we can go,” she said, turning her back on the corpse. With a sigh, Mick followed behind her, clutching his brother’s shirt in his hand.
♦
They drove another couple of hours, essentially retracing the route they had taken. Finally, the silence was broken by Dylan. “We aren’t going to get there tonight. The sky’s getting dark so we need to think about stopping.”
Mick looked up, catching Sarah’s eyes in the mirror. “He’s right,” she said. “I don’t want to get there in the dark.”
“OK, look for a place we can stay tonight,” Mick said.
“Why does it have to be indoors?” Dylan asked. “If we camp out, maybe they’ll come to us.”
Sarah shook her head. “We want to meet them on our terms, not theirs.”
“How are we going to meet them?” Becca asked. “Do we have a plan?”
“No,” Sarah said. “We have to come up with something.” She spotted a farmhouse a little further ahead. “Mick, try that place.”
Mick accelerated slightly and turned into the gravel driveway. The fields bracketing the driveway, once proper cornfields, were filled with weeds. Sarah saw the skeletal remains of a cow or horse further in the weeds. She shuddered and turned her head away.
The house looked deserted. The front door was hanging open. Mick parked the Jeep but left it running. “Dylan and I will check it out,” he said, turning in his seat to look at the women. “If it’s OK, we’ll call you in.”
Sarah normally would have protested, would have wanted to be on the front lines, but she was so tired. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and curl up somewhere. She just nodded, reaching for her backpack. Mick and Dylan exited the Jeep, Mick with his trusty bat, Dylan carrying a tire iron streaked with gore.
Becca turned to Sarah. “How are you feeling?”
Sarah pasted a smile on her face. “I’m fine,” she answered.
Becca stared at her then shook her head. “You don’t have to be so tough all the time, Sarah. It doesn’t mean you’re weak, if you admit you’re tired or you don’t feel well.”
There was a noise from outside the car. Both of them turned to look at the house. Sarah undid her belt, her fingers finding the door handle. “Sarah, wait,” Becca said, her hand closing around Sarah’s wrist. “Let them take care of it. They’re both more than capable.”
Sarah leaned back in her seat. “I can’t help it, Becca,” she said softly. “I can’t turn it off.” While she looked relaxed, Sarah’s muscles were tensed, wanting to be with Mick, to have his back as she knew he would have hers. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Dylan; she just didn’t trust him as much as she trusted herself.
When Mick and Dylan came out laughing, her tension eased. She let out a long sigh as she opened her door, slipping from Becca’s grasp. “Is it OK?”
“Yeah,” Mick said. “It’s been looted, and some animals have been through there, but it’ll do for tonight.”
“What was that noise?” Sarah hoisted her backpack over her shoulder and closed her door.
“Bird flew out of a cupboard at Mick,” Dylan said, getting his backpack from the front and slamming the door. “He tripped over a stool trying to get away.”
Mick turned off the car and reached inside
for his backpack. “You’re the one who screamed like a girl.”
“I’ll grab the sleeping bags,” Becca said, shaking her head and heading to the hatch.
The living room was trashed, with furniture overturned and broken, but no signs of brutality. There was a faint odor of animal spoor, but the smell was no worse than other places they had stayed until they had arrived at the camp. Dylan and Mick began to move debris, clearing a space near the pot-bellied stove. “The flue’s clear, so we can light a fire if we want,” Mick said.
“Any food or do we have to dig into our supplies?” Sarah asked, dropping her pack to the floor.
“We just cleared the rooms; we didn’t check the cupboards.” Mick took a pair of sleeping bags from Becca as she walked in, setting them on the worn carpet.
“I’ll see if there’s anything.” Sarah headed through the doorway.
“We didn’t clear the basement, so don’t open the door.” Sarah raised a hand, indicating that she heard Mick.
The evidence of animal activity was much more prevalent in the kitchen. Piles of dung were visible in the corners along with the shredded remains of nests. Sarah wrinkled her nose at the much stronger stench. She walked into the room, stepping over the messes on the floor until she came to the empty counter. Small appliances littered the floor, either knocked there by the animals or the people who came before them. Sarah stepped over shards of broken dishes and opened a cupboard. Plates and bowls and mugs lay undisturbed inside. She moved to the next, found mixing bowls and serving platters. The third cupboard was mostly bare, a lone dented can of peas lying on its side in the corner.
She squatted down and opened the bottom cupboard. She let out a girlish squeal when she saw the rat run through a hole in the back of the cupboard. She slammed the doors closed in disgust, knowing nothing in there would be edible.
“What’s wrong?” Mick said from the doorway. His bat was in his hand.
Sarah shook her head. “Just a rat.” She looked up at him. “Sorry.”
Mick smiled. “It’s OK.” He held out a hand, but she waved it off.
