Two Alive

by Jonez, Jeremiah W.

  “Leave my brother alone!” Antonio growled.

  “Give up your weapons. Your guns, your knives…” The man in the blue sweater laughed to himself and brought a hand to his chin. “Everything you have. Give it to my men or you can die right here.” He had a low, garbled, rough voice that made him sound like he had a frog in his throat.

  Miles looked back and forth between the man in the sweater and his brother, still holding on to his rifle strap. The tension was thick and the air was stale. The boxes stacked everywhere made the room feel smaller, and the infected monsters still screeching and howling outside the shutter door only added to the claustrophobic vibe.

  “Shit man! That thing almost got me! It almost got me!” One of the soldiers who had wrestled with the infected creature a second ago was hunched over with his hands on his knees, freaking out.

  “Calm down Anderson,” the soldier behind Antonio said.

  “Did you see how many of those things were out there? There had to be at least a hundred of them.” Another soldier from the line was shaking like a leaf, trying to keep his gun trained on the two boys.

  Anderson took off his helmet, and was flushed and starting to gag, “The smell. Oh god, the smell…”

  “Get your shit together Anderson,” the man in the blue sweater barked, then turned back to the boys. “You can give up your shit or we can send you back out there with the parade you brought with you.”

  “Fine, then send us back out there! We’ll take out chances.” Antonio grit his teeth and felt the gun pressed harder.

  “Chill the fuck out kid!” the soldier behind Antonio said, “You’re lucky we even opened the--”

  “Major Carver! Stop this!” A voice came from behind the line of soldiers as a different man came walking up with another guy in glasses.

  “Ben, I agreed to let them in here, and against my better judgment.” Carver, the man in the blue sweater, sighed and spoke to the new man with a careless tone. “But before we take this any further, we’re going to need their weapons and backpacks.”

  “This is unnecessary Carver! They’re just kids!” Ben was less militant than Carver, which was clear from his softer pink face and simple outfit. He had on a green t-shirt and a tan vest that matched his cargo shorts.

  “Don’t be dumb, Ben. We both watched the same monitors and saw what these kids are capable of.”

  “Incredible. The virus is changing these people at incredible rates.” The other man who came in with Ben, peered through his circular bifocals and made his way over to one of the dead infected on the floor. “Look, it’s thin from starvation but the muscles are enlarged like the effects of steroids.” The man in glasses was odd-looking with a knotted half fro and a long brown face. He wasn’t even afraid to touch the creature, and he knocked on its sternum with his long fingers. “The bones have hardened under the skin and the skin itself is like leather.”

  “Dr. Manson, you can swoon over these things later.” Carver waved to his men and they took the backpacks from the two boys.

  Miles was still trying to hold onto his rifle, repeating “no” and curling up into a ball to keep from losing it.

  “Give it up kid! Don’t make this any harder,” the soldier warned.

  “Major.” The soldier behind Antonio took the assault rifle from his shoulder against the boy’s protest.

  Carver saw the weapon being raised and recognized it immediately. “Wonders never cease. Restrain them.”

  “What the fuck?!” Antonio stood to his feet and the soldier grabbed him by the arm. But the teen slipped free and moved behind his captor, pulling out his knife and putting it to the man’s kidney. The movement made all the other soldiers raise their weapons.

  “Whoa, whoa.” Carver held up a hand to halt his men from firing.

  “Calm down son!” Ben stepped between the soldiers and the two boys. “Everyone just calm down, lower your weapons.”

  “Fuck you!” Antonio pressed the knife harder and the soldier winced. “You ain’t restrainin’ us! We ain’t yo prisoners!”

  “We’re not trying to imprison you.” Ben locked eyes with Antonio, “Just calm down.”

  “I’ll calm down when y’all--” Antonio was cut short abruptly when the man who was standing behind Miles struck him in the side of the head. He hit Antonio with the butt of his gun and the teen went down, unconscious.

  “No!” Miles shouted and he was rushed by the soldiers before he could attempt any similar actions like his brother.

  Miles wasn’t going to struggle. He even let go of his rifle and watched them take it, along with all their things, to a table against the far wall. Then the soldiers tied Miles’ wrists with zip ties and ushered him out of the room, carrying Antonio behind him. Miles went peacefully, but never took his eyes off Carver until he was taken through a doorway that led to a short hallway.

  Carver watched his men take the boys away, then turned to see Ben standing in front of him with a furrowed brow. “Yes?”

  “What are you doing? We don’t need to restrain them.” Ben was fuming. “Those kids needed our help and now we look like their kidnappers!”

  “I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation.” The brash military man coughed a haggard cough as a soldier brought over the AR-15 the older boy was carrying. “This is one of our weapons. Those kids probably got it from our people who we sent out. How they got the weapon, who the hell knows, but it might’ve been because someone in Franklin’s group was careless. Like Bryant here.” Carver eyed the soldier in front of him and his icy gaze was enough to make the man lower his head and hold his side where the boy had put his knife.

  Ben began, “But that doesn’t--”.

  But Carver broke in, “Those kids are also very proficient with the weapons they had.” He took one of the backpacks from his subordinates and started to sort through it. “They’re heavily armed. They had enough guns here to take out a hundred of those things. They were killing them like they were nothing and it didn’t seem to bother either of them, even though they’re pretty young looking. Didn’t even look like they needed our help.” Another crashing bang at the shutter made the major look that way. “And now we have a shitload of infected right outside our doorstep when we haven’t had a problem in months. Those kids are a goddamn curse.” Carver coughed again and spat on the floor.

  “I get what you’re saying and it all makes sense.” Ben followed the major when Carver started for the doorway, “But there’s no reason to treat these kids this way. We have no idea where they’ve come from or what they’ve been through and you’re treating them like a threat.”

  “I need two of your men to help me with this specimen.” Dr. Manson called after Ben and Carver as they continued towards the door. Rather than wait for their response though, he took it upon himself to employ two nearby soldiers, to pick up one of the infected bodies on the floor. They weren’t exactly thrilled about this.

  Ben ignored the doctor behind them. “C’mon, we can’t stay in this place forever and we can’t just refuse to let people in.”

  “We don’t need to leave the compound!” The major shouted so loud that his booming voice echoed and seemed to shake the rafters above them. The monsters outside began howling in response and attacked the door more forcibly. Everyone in the room jumped or reacted in some way to the violent banging on the steel door. Everyone except for Carver, who seemed cast in stone and immovable in his heavy boots. He lowered his voice and continued. “I listened to you and we sent people out and look what the hell is happening.” Carver turned abruptly and started to walk away.

  Ben watched the major leave and noticed that his men were eager to follow.

  “Hmm. He does have a point if only by coincidence,” Manson said, with a hand to his chin. Then a sudden crash outside startled the doctor and the two soldiers helping him.

  “Shut up quack!” Ben chased after Carver. He rushed through the short hallway with one light hanging only a few feet above your head and m
et Carver in the security room. There were monitors lined up across a table but only four out of the nine screens were showing a display.

  Carver went to stand at the table with a woman who had a complexion similar to pink bubblegum. She wore dark clothes, had a short haircut and was working the cameras that showed the outside of the compound from several different angles.

  “Jesus,” the woman said, watching a swarm of infected run and dart around outside the shutter door. She had been watching the scene so long she hadn’t even noticed the major behind her.

  “Those things are everywhere. Must be at least fifty out there,” Carver said, his voice startling the woman sitting in front of him.

  “Oh, major! Yeah, it’s… insane. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many,” the woman responded, taking a breath and shaking her head.

  “Strikers.” A small voice behind them spoke out. It was the boy who was being held against the wall; the soldier with him holding his zip tied wrists. “We call them… we call them strikers. Or runners. Or fiends.”

  “Holy shit. You’re that kid who was outside fighting them.” The woman in the chair was visibly awestruck. “I can’t believe you stood up against that. That was… insane.” She then noticed the other boy who was unconscious nearby.

  Ben looked at the creatures on the monitor and then turned back to the boy. “Fiends… that sounds about right. Those things seem to run around here a lot. Especially in packs.”

  “Hives,” Miles corrected Ben. “They run in hives. Like bees. They’re… they’re like swarms of bees. They run around like swarms of bees.”

  Ben smiled. “What’s your name?”

  Miles looked at Ben for a moment before glancing at Carver. The barrel-chested major had a commanding presence that overshadowed Ben’s kind expression.

  “Miles,” the boy finally said. “And that’s my brother Antonio.”

  “Your brother? I’m surprised. You two don’t look that much alike. But ok. I’m Ben.”

  Carver cleared his throat. “Nadine, spin the camera and let me see the truck. Anderson, put those boys in the closet and lock ‘em up.” Carver coughed and covered his mouth before throwing keys to the soldier standing next to Miles.

  “Do we really have to lock them up?” Ben protested.

  “Yes. We’ve got other things to worry about right now besides our new visitors. Nadine.”

  The woman whipped around in her chair and began typing on the keyboard in front of her. After a few clicks and taking the joystick in hand, she had one of the monitors displaying the far left of the outside dock where the semi was parked. The monsters couldn’t care any less for the inactive truck. The majority of the mob was crowding the platform area, fighting to climb over each other and get to the shutter door of the store.

  Miles looked around the room, taking note of everything there—the working monitors, the file cabinets against the far wall and another door leading to the inner store—before being shoved into a closet along with his brother. Anderson dragged Antonio inside the small space, stepped out, and slammed the door shut, locking it behind him. The loud slam stirred Antonio and he started moving and waking up.

  “What the… what the fuck?” Antonio put a hand on the back of his head where he’d been hit with the gun.

  “Are you ok?” Miles asked.

  Before Antonio answered that question, he whipped around in the dark space and knocked over a mop in a bucket before asking his own question. “Where the fuck are we?”

  Miles lowered his head, “They locked us in the closet in the back.”

  “Damn Miles,” Antonio wanted to scream but he lowered his voice. “Now we locked in a closet in the back of the Costco. What the fuck?”

  “I saw a cabinet before they locked us in here,” Miles said softly.

  Antonio stopped mid-tirade. “Yeah, so?”

  “Whatever’s inside there is val-U-able. We should... we should find out what’s in there and take it.”

  Antonio thought for a minute. “You know what the old man would say.”

  Take what we need, and don’t get greedy. The words came to Miles before his brother even mentioned it. When they went scavenging, the old man taught them to only take what they needed from other groups. It was a good way to keep them from overreaching and trying to take unnecessary risks. It also kept them from having to fight off anyone looking to chase them down for what they took. But Miles often thought too much like treasure hunting when it came to scavenging. A hidden bag, a locked trunk, or a cabinet all looked like an opportunity to find some secret cache of supplies. But the old man would just remind him over and over again, take what we need, and don’t get greedy.

  “All that don’t matter anyway.” Antonio dropped to a knee and pulled out a small pocket knife from his boot. “We gotta figure out how to get our shit back. I want my fuckin’ gold gun.”

  Miles saw the small blade flip out in Antonio’s hand. “Where’d you get that?”

  “I found it at the camp before we got here. That little girl you didn’t check had it.” Antonio sighed and went through his plan, “We gotta kill that Carver guy. If we kill him, the rest of them won’t know what to do. He’s the leader. We gotta get him.”

  “Then the others would just kill us. They’d kill us and we’d be dead.” Miles replied.

  “They gon kill us anyway. The next time they open this door I’ma kill that major nigga and get my gun back-- oops.” Antonio covered his mouth slightly, expecting to hear the old man tell him to watch his mouth.

  Miles took the role of reprimanding, “Watch your mouth!” The old man never liked them saying the N-word. Miles also didn’t agree with Antonio’s plan. “You can’t do that. You can’t do that. If you kill him, they’ll kill us.”

  “Man, I don’t give a fuck!” Antonio ran a hand over his face, agitated and starting to get louder.

  Miles watched his brother turn around and hold his knife up, ready to pounce when the door was opened again. It was classic for Antonio to come up with the most extreme way to resolve anything. If not for his rash thinking occasionally working out in the end, Antonio might not have felt so invincible in times like this. Miles pulled out his phone and looked at the screen. Unable to come up with a plan better than his brother’s, he just tapped the screen and Rag’n’Bone Man’s Human started in his head as he slouched down in the back corner of the closet; sitting under a silhouette that could have been shelves.

  “I’m only human, after all. I’m only human, I make mistakes, don’t put the blame on me. Don’t put the blame on me.” Miles rocked back and forth in his corner, reciting the words to the song in a hushed breath. The dead phone in his hands was quiet and black but he could still hear the music continuing on.

  Outside the closet, Carver was staring at the door with his arms folded over his chest. He heard whispers and short shouts but he couldn’t make out what the boys were saying. He wasn’t sure whether that was cause for concern. Besides, he was still distracted by what was happening on the screens in front of Nadine.

  Then Ben stepped in front of Carver, “Eric… you can’t be serious.”

  Carver sighed and rolled his eyes, “As serious as a heartbeat.”

  “Do you really think those kids are dangerous?”

  Carver laughed at the question. “Do you really think they’re not?”

  “C’mon. So what if they’re able to survive on their own. What would you expect from people out there? We may have been cooped up in this shitty store for the past two years, but we can still remember what it was like out there.”

  “Actually, we have no idea how it is out there now.” Dr. Manson came shuffling by with two soldiers carrying the infected corpse, wrapped in a torn blanket. “There’s no telling how these infected have changed or what new behaviors they have. The people surviving out there would obviously have different standards for living than we do.”

  “And those kids were living in that. Those boys are still young and we shouldn’t be tre
ating them like this.” Ben continued, “Who knows what they’ve been through. Hell, they were almost torn apart outside our door a few minutes ago. This isn’t like before.”

  “This is exactly like that!” Carver yelled, followed by a fit of coughing as he tried hacking something up from his throat. “Don’t try bringing that up like things could have gone differently! It was your decision to let those people stay.”

  “Eric… please.” Ben tried pleading again but the major only turned away and looked at the monitors in front of him. This frustrated Ben. “I’m still… I can still have some say in how this place is run, Major Carver!”

  The major sighed and lowered his head. “Ben, you’re the one who wanted to take on a smaller role here. And don’t you forget that when the shit hits the fan, my men and I still have to protect this place.”

  “What the hell is going on?” A voice came from across the room.

  Everyone turned to the middle-aged woman standing in the doorway that led to the inner store. She was wearing a tank top and baggy denim jeans with steel toed boots. She had a golden-brown skin tone and a mess of unkempt curls on her head. Her green eyes almost looked blue under the lights and right now they looked like icicles as she scanned the small room with Carver and Ben in its center. There were two soldiers standing near the closet, Chris Anderson being one of them and looking more nervous than usual, and the other was Major Carver’s ever loyal captain, Calvin Baker who was stoic as he held his rifle.

  The woman continued her scan and saw Dr. Manson creeping along the wall towards the office with the two privates, Nathan Burrows and Henry Castle. Burrows and Castle were carrying something that looked like a body, wrapped up in a blanket with blood starting to stain through it. Castle shook his hand in disgust when he touched the wet spot.

  “What the hell is that?” The woman asked the doctor.

  “Oh, this? Oh, it’s nothing. Just a dead infected that I’m helping dispose of.” The corners of Manson’s mouth went up slightly in what looked like a smile.