The others don’t even know we’re here, they’re focused on not falling off the wobbly log. They can’t hear us. I can’t hear us. I know I’m telling him we’re coming because I can feel my mouth moving but it’s as if no sound is coming out.
I drop down to the ledge, pressing my trembling feet against the crack he’s dangling from. Man, that is going to leave a bruise on my ass if we wake up tomorrow. And he is so massaging it for me, I’ll know if he tries to pawn it off on Felecia, her hands are much softer.
How the hell am I gonna do this? The water is right there, waves crashing against his feet, its mist soaking every inch of me within seconds. My hands are gonna be too wet, there’s no way I can pull him up.
A high pitched yelp emanates from behind me.
Felecia!
She slams into my back, almost taking us both over. It can’t be a second later when a body spills over the edge of the cliff, disappearing into the wall of white waves.
Another one shoots off the edge a few feet to my right, swallowed by the surge. They don’t even pop up downstream, they just get sucked under, never to be seen again. If we hit that water, swimming isn’t an option.
“Noah,” Felecia screams, her lips pressed against my earlobe, “they just keep rolling down the cliff like bowling balls. I’m gonna try to hold them off!”
She removes herself from my back, after that, your guess is as good as mine. All I know is she’s not touching me. It sounded like she said she was going to hold them off, just like Norwood was doing. Please don’t let her fall. I can’t lose her. Please, not now.
The spray from the river has us drenched. Our hands will slip before we’ve even–
I can give him my leg. My pants are so wet I could pee in them right now and no one would know the difference, but he’ll be able to get a better grip.
I lower myself, right heel wedged in the crack, hands at my sides for balance. Maybe Felecia should have done this, by the sounds of it, she does a lot more squats than I do. If I successfully pull this off, is my butt magically going to look like hers? Because if it does, I have a feeling I’ll be walking around with my hands in my back pockets all day long.
Norwood takes the hint and grabs onto my pant leg, balling his hands into fists around the camouflage fabric. I know I’m grunting as I slowly bring myself up the rock wall in a one-legged squat. What’s it called when you do a one-legged squat with the weight of a person strapped to your leg? I don’t know, but I’m doing it. I’m one of those mothers who deadlifts a car off her baby.
At what point do we run out of adrenaline? Because I think I passed that days ago. Eventually I’m just going to keel over right where I stand.
It’s too much weight, I can’t go any higher. My knee’s still bent and I just, I can’t do it. I’m giving it everything I’ve got but we’re not going anywhere.
Norwood’s eyes meet mine. He knows my body’s giving out on me. If I had something to hold onto, I could steady myself enough for him to swing his legs up onto the ledge, but there’s nothing. We’re teetering on the edge of death and I’m doing everything I can to keep us from falling in. But the river’s rising higher by the second, his feet will be submerged in no time.
That look of terror in his eyes passes. He knows what time it is. He’s come to terms with his own mortality. We both know what happens next. I’m not ready, but the peace in his eyes tells me he is.
I shake my head, frantic, breaths barely escaping my burning lungs. But he nods at me. And for a second, silence falls around us, cloaking us from all of it. The raging river fades into the background. The headless bodies rolling over the edge aren’t here.
It’s just us, two kids who were told they were going to be friends whether they liked it or not. We didn’t need to become friends. We could have been him and Neil, or me and Neil, or practically anyone and Neil.
I think friends are a lot like family, you don’t actually get to choose them, not really. We’re drawn to certain people, and when they’re drawn to us, friendship is born. And from then on out, they’re kind of in our lives whether we want them there or not. We can go months without talking, and pick up half a year later like no time has passed.
I just keep telling myself that’s what’ll happen this time. Like, he’ll wash up downstream and be waiting there for us, wondering what took so long.
But that’s not what’s going to happen, is it? I’m watching the headless corpses get sucked away. If he washes up downstream, he won’t be sitting on a tree stump, tapping the invisible watch on his wrist to tell us we’re a bunch of slowpokes. This time, when we say goodbye, it’s for good.
CHAPTER 13
I’ve said goodbye to too many people. Not today Norwood!
I grunt like I’m trying to squeeze a watermelon through my urethra, channeling every ounce of strength I have left in me. My roar overpowers the river, echoing off the walls of the fading ravine. At the rate the water’s rising, it’ll be overflowing the gorge in a matter of minutes. There isn’t much left of it.
My hands grab and claw at the cliffside, fingers digging into every crevice they can find, searching for stability. Anything to hold onto.
I’ve always held on longer than I should. Relationships that had run their course. Friendships I knew were over. Hugs on the bleachers that should have never been hugs in the first place. Felecia’s hand on the window ledge. Sometimes holding on pays off.
Just as quickly as the terror drained from his eyes, so too does the peace and tranquility of a man who’s come to terms with the inevitable. It sinks in, it’s not over. Not for him. Not now. Not yet.
With one final burst of energy, I stand straight up, locking my knees.
And just like that he’s thrust back into the war.
Norwood’s feet swing until they make it over the edge. He’s still hanging onto my pant leg but the pressure is gone, he’s holding himself up, I’m just here for balance now.
I can breathe again. How long has it been since my last breath? We must be going on at least fifteen minutes here. Quick, someone get the Guinness Book of World Records on the phone.
Before I can finish taking my first official breath, his arms are wrapped around me, pounding his fist off my back like he’s trying to burp me. I know there’s no time for this, but I let him hug me anyway. How often does Dustin Norwood show any kind of affection? I’ll take it.
He pulls away, slapping his hand on my cheek and holding it there, kind of like grandparents do when they haven’t seen you in a whole week. I’m not sure if any words make it out but he mouths thank you. I think all of us have died at least once, the moment where you stare death in the face and know there’s no getting out of it this time. This was his time.
I lead the way up the ledges where Felecia is dancing along the rockface, trying to avoid the fumbled attacks of infects less nimble than her. It’s hard enough to get your footing at this angle, let alone swing swords at necks. She hops from one foot to the other, dodging their strikes, sending them tumbling into the angry waters.
Her smile is full of relief when she sees the two of us emerge over the cliff. It’s strange what being placed in a situation like this will do to your perception of friendship and family. She hands Norwood his machete, clearly a little disappointed she doesn’t get to be a double sword samurai anymore. I think she just likes to show off.
Talking is useless, I feel like I need to cover my ears just to hear my own thoughts. How does one say ‘we gotta get the fucking fuck outta here’ in sign language?
We need to get across that log before it’s washed away, the waves are crashing against its underside. It won’t hold much longer. The whole tree is shaking violently as the current attempts to suck our bridge downstream.
We make a run for it that’s nothing at all like running. One shelf slopes at a nearly vertical angle to the one beneath it. If a giant had a ladder up to the dam, this is what it would look like. But he’d probably strap a harness on because this is freakin’ i
nsane. How the hell are we supposed to fight and keep our balance at the same time?
Someone’s coming up behind me, I can feel their presence drawing close. The infects don’t mind running until they fall. They don’t care. What have they got to lose? We don’t even know if they’re dying in the water. Something tells me they’ll wash up on a flat sandy section a few miles downstream, cough up a couple gallons of river, maybe pound some water out of their ears, and continue the hunt.
I spin around just in time to see a mangled infect bouncing off the ledge above me. He’s not running after us, he’s already fallen. His limbs flail uncontrollably, flapping at his sides like they’re not even connected. Even if he had control over his extremities, they’d be too broken to do him any good. He’s an inflatable flailing tube man mixed with a bowling ball, and we’re the pins at the end of the lane.
He sails right over me, disfigured fingers grazing my scalp on his way by, heading straight for Felecia and Norwood. I don’t even know if it’s physically possible, but I go for it anyway, because if I don’t, they’re goners. Not on my watch.
My attempt to grab his body out of the air, fails. Keeping myself grounded isn’t working, he’s got too much speed. Shit, we’re going down!
My feet leave the safety of the rock ledge, hands wrapped around his shirt or pants, I can’t tell, all I know is I’m holding onto something. But he’s going too fast, I’d need to be three times my size if I were going to be a successful anchor. We’re either spinning or the world sped up considerably because I’m all of a sudden facing the sunset painting the sky pink.
We crash hard, his shattered body breaking my fall. He slams into the rock slab with enough force to crunch whatever bones aren’t already broken. I can feel the vibrations snapping throughout his body.
I think I’m holding onto his back. Wait, no, that can’t be right, his head is facing me. That doesn’t make sense, my left hand is grabbing his front pocket, I know because I’m trying not to play pocket pool with his pecker, we are not making a thing out of touching zombie wieners. It’s not just his limbs that have been dislocated, it’s his entire body. He’s a freakin’ Rubik’s Cube.
I’m too discombobulated, I don’t even know which way we’re facing. I swear we already landed, I felt the impact but everything’s still moving. All I see are his yellow eyes and bloodstained teeth. His neck’s rotated in the wrong direction and he’s still trying to eat me?
We’re on the ground, I must be on top of him, I knew we hit. But how the hell is everything still moving around me?
Oh my god, we’re sliding. My knees are banging off the rough surface of the open slabs as we cruise down the cliffside like he’s a damn toboggan. And I think we just created a new sport that I definitely do not want to participate in. We haven’t even established a solid set of rules! Where the hell are the brakes on this thing?
Finally, I pry my eyes away from his overactive jaw to survey my surroundings. We’re almost in the water! I don’t know what to do. Felecia and Norwood are crawling onto the log, they haven’t even realized I’m not behind them. I was so close. Another fifteen steps and I would have been there.
I’ll never make it. My only option is rolling off of him and… And then what? How do I stop myself? There’s nothing to grab hold of. The open rock slabs are too steep, I’ll just keep rolling. The second we hit that water, we’re getting sucked under. I’ve seen it enough to know we’ll bob for all of one second before the undercurrent drags us away. I don’t even think it can be called an undercurrent because the entire river is out to devour anything in its path.
The tree bridge is shaking uncontrollably, it’s not going to hang on much longer. Water crashing against it, over it, battering it from every angle. In a matter of seconds the entire thing is going under.
And I just ran out of time. We’ve reached the edge of the known world.
After this, there’s nothing. Life ceases to exist beneath the surface of the turbulent river. It’s not even a gorge anymore, the gorge is gone. The water is level with the top of the ravine, the Grand Canyon without the canyon.
I’m out of time. We’re airborne. When we hit, we’re getting swallowed. The time to devise a plan has come and gone.
The feeling of nothingness around me is almost enjoyable. My knees aren’t scraping off the rugged cliffside. I don’t feel like I’m riding along train tracks on a tricycle, jolting my body every which way.
Remember jumping off the swing, those few seconds you’re in the air, flying? It feels like a lifetime when you’re going up, but coming down, you barely have enough time to think about what’s going to happen when you land.
I had all these plans for the future. I guess that’s really all that keeps us going, that faith that tomorrow will be better than today. We find things to look forward to. To work towards. Because if we didn’t, there’d be no point.
I never understood how people could commit suicide. I get it now. When you lose faith that the future holds something better than the present, there’s no reason to carry on. When the good times don’t outweigh the bad. When the hurt overshadows the joy. When tomorrow no longer feels worth it.
But for me, tomorrow is worth it.
Fists still balled around the fabric of his shirt, I pull myself closer, planting my feet on his back, like a wakeboard. If I time it just right…
This is insane. This can’t work. I have pulled off some seriously impossible shit but there is no way in hell I can do this.
He hits the water in a belly flop, limbs flailing freely above him, flapping in the wind like four tails he’s got no control over. The moment of impact sends a snapping shock throughout his limp body, that quick jolt is the only thing that lets me know we’ve hit the water that’s now overflowing the walls of the gorge. My eyes are glued to the fallen cedar. To Felecia, crying and screaming, reaching for me. To the future I’d give absolutely anything to obtain.
I launch myself off his backside like I’m trying to beat Tyrone in the long jump. Not possible, I know that, but I don’t need to do something stupid like ten feet, I can’t be more than six from the bridge. Six feet from my future. From getting to spend tomorrow with Felecia. With my friends, my new family, the people I’ve grown to love.
Norwood and Felecia are straddling the giant tree, hating themselves for not realizing I wasn’t right behind them. I can read the horror on their faces. They’re screaming so loud I think I might be able to hear them over the thunderous roar of the growing river.
My feet leave his back in that millisecond it takes for his broken body to be submerged. It’s enough, I’m in the air, I’m not underwater. I don’t know how I did it but I jumped off his back. Nothing but air around me. I’m flying.
I slam stomach first into the log, whipping my body around it as my feet get pulled underwater by a force like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I can’t breathe. I don’t know if the landing knocked the wind out of me or if it’s the river ripping it from my lungs, but I can’t catch my breath.
My hands grasp at the trunk but the bark all tears off like ripping pages from a notebook. If only I could have jumped a little higher, a little further, I’d be draped over the top of the log right now, not hanging on for dear life as waves claw at my feet.
There’s too much pressure slamming against my back, fighting tooth and nail to take me under. I’m trying to pull myself up but it isn’t working, I’m barely moving. How much longer can I do this?
Even if I could hold myself here all day, there’s no one to fight the forces of the undead army. They’ve made it down the cliffside tree and onto our log bridge. They’re climbing the cluster of ravaged roots, knocking each other off like this is a game of musical chairs and the music just stopped.
Felecia’s hands latch onto my vest, one on each shoulder. She sees the same future I do. I can see it in the strain on her face, pulling harder than she’s ever pulled in her life, fighting against the almighty power of mother nature. And if there’s anyone
who can overpower that bitch, it’s Felecia freakin’ Harmon.
“I’m not letting go.”
I can’t hear her, but the words roll off her lips regardless. And in that one simple statement, peeling back the layers, I understand. She wants tomorrow as badly as I do, but if we can’t have it together, tomorrow no longer becomes worth it. We reach tomorrow together, or not at all.
And I’m not willing to let her do that.
I am not letting Felecia die because of me.
Hope courses through every inch of my battered body. Tomorrow will be better than today. And the day after will be better than that. Survival is for the strong. It’s for those who believe. It’s for those who take that strength and belief and turn it into reason. A reason to survive. To fight. To make tomorrow reality.
We’re not done yet.
My body breaks from the clutches of the flooded ravine. I can finally breathe. I don’t know exactly what happened but I’m on top of the log. There was a split second break in the onslaught and that’s all it took. Do you believe in miracles? Divine intervention? Because that’s–
An involuntary scream escapes when I wrap my limbs around the tree trunk. The whole thing is bobbing up and down as water crashes around all sides of it. It feels like a seesaw from hell.
It wasn’t a miracle. It was the exact opposite. The water stopped slamming against my back because our bridge is being shaken loose. We’re riding the waves as roots rip free from the crumbling ledge. The only reason I know we’re still attached is because if we weren’t, we’d be sailing downstream right now.
This sorry excuse for a bridge is too rickety to walk across, all we can do is shimmy along like we did on top of the dam. And shimmying’s not getting us there fast enough.
What the hell? Why am I not going anywhere? I’m pulling with everything I have but the distance between me and Felecia is growing wider with every passing second. Why am I not moving?
Am I caught on a branch? I’m stuck. It’s not breaking. Something’s got my beltloop.
Blood Type Infected (Book 5): The Departed Page 8
