The Dead Divide Us

by Vincent S. Tobia

  “I think he just wants to rest…” Ruth began.

  “I’ll go with. I’m fine.” Paul said, rather loudly, like he had forgotten how to control the volume of his voice.

  So far during the two weeks, Roy had only been able to kill a few squirrels and a solitary rabbit; neither of which hadn’t tasted that bad to them at all really. They just made sure to cook everything extra long, not taking any chances with that disease floating around. They were eating a lot of canned food though. Ruth was mainly in charge of rationing the supplies and was doing a pretty good job at it too. Still though, they had only enough food to last them another two or three weeks. Shooting any kind of wild animal was only going to help them at this point.

  “Alright, we’ll have to walk the stream path. Make sure nothing fresh died in it overnight.” Roy said.

  “Not a problem, let me just get my gun.” Paul said.

  Ruth looked over at Roy and he looked down at his wife Kirsten, all three of them were worried.

  “No need for that I think Paul. I’ve got my rifle and handgun. We’ll be fine.” Roy said, still sounding confident.

  Paul knew they didn’t want him handling any guns right now. The whole ‘stressed out with paranoid dreams of horror’ look didn’t exactly support the thought of Paul using firearms. Paul understood and didn’t argue, even though he was very angry on the inside.

  Paul walked off the front porch, without saying a word. He approached the children playing.

  “Shawn, come over here a second.” Paul said as he knelt down.

  Shawn tossed the football back to his older brother and walked over to his dad. Alexis watched them intently as she still drew in her notebook.

  Paul looked his youngest son in the eyes, and then he looked at the clean bandage around his left ear.

  “How is the hearing today son?”

  “It’s a little better since the ringing stopped.”

  Paul slowly brought Shawn in close for a tight hug. Ruth watched from the porch, intrigued. The bond between Paul and their youngest child had grown lately, since the incident at Gus’s, and even with Paul’s newfound distraught attitude.

  “I’m sorry this happened to you.” Paul told his son.

  “It's ok daddy, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

  “You know, what I did at Gus’s. That man, he…”

  “You had to kill him. I know. We all know. Can I come with you and Roy?” Shawn said.

  Yeah, can we?” Eddie shouted in excitement.

  Roy walked off the porch, now sporting his hunting rifle. He also had an old axe, an axe as old at the cabin itself. The amount of wood that old tool had chopped was incalculable. It had belonged to Roy’s Grandfather.

  “No kids, you stay behind and help keep watch over the cabin. I think Ruth and Kirsten have some chores for you to keep up with.” Roy said as he handed Paul the axe.

  “We might as well chop some more firewood while we’re out there.” Roy said.

  “Are we getting low already?” Paul asked.

  “No, we’ve still got plenty. But it wouldn’t hurt to bring back another load to keep under the porch.”

  “Daddy?” Alexis then asked; she was now standing right next to them.

  “Yeah, honey?”

  “I’m going to go help Mommy and Ruth make the stew for tonight.” Alexis said to her father, and then she turned to Paul and spoke.

  “Here, I made this for you.”

  Alexis handed Paul the picture she had been drawing most of that afternoon. She had drawn a very accurate depiction of him. In the drawing he was clean shaven and happy, standing by a big and bright sun. Most importantly, she depicted Paul as happy.

  “Um, thanks Alexis. This is rather good.” Paul said, awkwardly.

  “You’re welcome.” Alexis then ran away, up the porch and into the cabin.

  Paul looked at the drawing again, the person that Alexis drew was no longer him. But it had been him at one point, not long ago.

  A child was trying to tell him how simple it can be. Just smile. But he couldn’t.

  There was a time when Paul Landry could smile, back when he was able to sleep without night terrors, back when he slept in a warm bed with his wife, back when the days passed by carelessly, back when the world was whole.

  3

  Paul knew that Roy wanted to strike up a specific conversation. Paul’s melancholy addiction was spreading throughout the families. Roy was the kind of the guy who would rather talk out differences and settle conflicts before they began. In normal times, Paul felt the same way. But Paul wasn’t even sure who he was anymore.

  They had been walking out past the perimeter, no more than a ten minute sprint back to the cabin. They stood, each on one side of a small fresh water stream that ran down the hills. This was their drinking water supply. Roy’s grandfather planned the cabin out very well, necessities were all within reach.

  “She looks clean enough.” Roy said, in regards to the stream.

  “Yeah, we still need to travel up more a ways, make sure nothing is rotting away up there.” Paul said, now leaning on the ancient axe.

  “We will, but Paul…”

  “You want to talk.” Paul said, cutting off Roy.

  Roy looked a little shocked but continued on.

  “Yes, I don’t think it would be a bad idea for us to talk. Paul, everyone is worried about you.” Roy said.

  “Of course they are worried. I can’t sleep without having grotesque dreams that cause me to wake up kicking and screaming.”

  Roy repositioned his rifle, swinging the strap around to his other shoulder. He then let out a long breath before speaking.

  “How can we help?” Roy asked.

  Paul shook his head, truly puzzled.

  “I don’t know. It’s been like this since we got up here.” Paul said.

  “Well, Paul I’m going to talk right now. I might say some things that you don’t like and you probably will not agree with. But just let me say my peace. Okay?”

  Paul looked both a little angry and worried.

  “Go ahead.” Paul said.

  “Ok. We have been up here for two weeks. That’s kind of a long time, considering the circumstances. When we first made these plans to come up here, I’ll be honest with you; I didn’t think we’d be able to stay up here that long. The entire world was being torn apart down there; we rushed out of town and made our way up here. So far, we’ve all settled in. You might not want to believe it Paul, but I believe we’re safe.”

  Paul couldn’t understand it. The idea of being safe was now such a foreign and abstract feeling to him.

  “How could you be such a fucking fool?!” Paul shouted. Roy was shocked; Paul had never once raised his voice in Roy’s presence.

  “The entire United States was flattened by an infectious disease! This isn’t a fucking game Roy; you can’t afford to feel safe. The same moment you take your foot off the pedal is the moment you and your entire family die!” Paul shouted again, this was said all in one breath. To Roy, Paul’s face was physically starting to distort. This man needed to sleep; he was far past the edge of sanity and closing in on a total breakdown.

  “I’m not saying we should ever let our guard down. I’m just saying that we need to start acting better around the children. You need to start acting like we might be able to have a life up here in the mountains!” Roy said with authority.

  “You don’t take me seriously. I don’t think you ever did.” Paul said softly.

  “What?” Roy asked, now confused and even more worried about Paul’s state of mind.

  “I’ll make sure we’re all safe, don’t worry; and in the end you will respect my judgment. I’m not going to ask you to respect me; I’m going to make you respect me.” Paul said, again with much anger.

  “You. Need. To. Sleep!” Roy said slowly. Paul did not appreciate Roy’s tone of voice, so he took a noticeably firmer grip on the axe handle. Before Paul was able to make the matters worse, Roy stepped up wit
h his famous community-leading logic.

  “Listen to me for a second. While we’ve been up here, we haven’t heard a single thing from anyone. The radio doesn’t work up here; we are far too high in the mountains to get any reception. It’s impossible for us to know exactly what is going on down there, down in the real world.” Roy said.

  “Go on.” Paul said. He was truly interested in hearing where Roy was going with this.

  “I think I know what you need. You need closure.”

  “So you are a doctor now too right?”

  “Ruth told me about the dreams you have. About Robert coming to get you, hoards of infected people coming to get you too. But they are all led by Robert. And in the end, Robert is the one that kills you. Now I won’t deny that Robert is dead, but I also won’t deny the fact that he could still be alive somewhere. Your family might be alive.” Roy said, now closing in on a plea.

  “And how are we supposed to get any closure on that one?” Paul asked.

  “We can’t. Not right now anyway. But we can start where we left off, where we left our lives behind. You and I could scout out Green Falls.” Roy said.

  “Now I know you are the crazy one, not me.” Paul said.

  “I think we all need to know the extent of what happened. We left Glen and Warren down there guarding the neighborhood. There has to be others that survived, that’s all I’m saying.” Roy said.

  Paul had calmed down substantially since pondering Roy’s new venture.

  Do you risk all that you have in order to find out the truth? Would you pay the ultimate price in order for the chance to strengthen your sanity?

  “This could be a gradual thing too. I’m not saying we rush ourselves back into town. We could at least start by taking the van back down the mountain until we reach a spot where we can tune into the radio. Try to find some emergency frequencies. See if anyone is out there trying to talk to us. There has to be people left.” Roy said.

  Paul raised an eye brow. Perhaps he was just having trouble dealing with far too much, far too fast. He had never killed anyone before, but two weeks ago he had shot Sheriff Baxter. He never had to uproot his entire existence in twelve hours either. Perhaps closure was all he needed.

  “I agree with getting into range with the radio frequencies.” Paul plainly said.

  Roy smiled, knowing he was doing an adequate job of finally talking some sense into Paul.

  “We really have no idea of what has happened. Who is to say that this thing didn’t fizzle out? The disease could have had a limited shelf life. If it ran its course, it could actually be safe to return to society. Also, maybe the military had found a way to contain it, just before our region was infected.” Roy said.

  “Well, do you think Sheriff Baxter was infected? When I killed him?” Paul said, defensively.

  Roy was taken back, he hadn’t remembered about how sick the Sheriff looked before Paul shot him.

  “He was very sick, no doubt about that. But we can’t know for sure if that was the disease or just a common flu virus or something else.” Roy said.

  Paul was shocked and a little disappointed to hear that. Roy noticed and jumped immediately to his own defense.

  “You didn’t kill an innocent man, Paul. The Sheriff was insane and he opened fire at you, he shot your boy! You did the right thing, because he might have caused more damage if you didn’t shoot him. He might have killed someone in the hardware store. If you hadn’t shot him, I would have.” Roy said, making Paul feel much better about the incident.

  “Thank you.” Paul said, sounding more like his old self.

  “No problem Paul. We are here for each other; let’s stay on the same side.”

  “Okay.”

  Roy turned and started to walk further up the stream, Paul followed. They had walked another fifty yards in that direction before Roy whispered something quickly and knelt down. He motioned silently for Paul to do the same.

  Roy pointed to a large rabbit that was sitting amongst the dead foliage of winter; it was no more than a school bus’s length away. How had they not scared the little guy away? Paul wondered. Roy turned around to Paul and smiled. This rabbit would be big enough for the families to enjoy a much larger dinner for once. Paul smiled back, he had been so wrapped up in his own dark thoughts and diluted dreams that he had taken for granted what he had up there in the mountains.

  Security. Safety. Food. Water. And Loyalty.

  Paul felt like a total selfish asshole.

  Roy slowly and quietly unsung his rifle and took aim at the fat rabbit. The furry thing still didn’t move or even blink. Was it frozen? It couldn’t be; it was no doubt taking in the unseasonably warm sun. Its belly was stuffed full for the winter cold, a good thing for the Landry/Benton cabin crew.

  Last of the living, two families at the end of world, suburban lifers turned mountain survivors.

  BANG!

  Roy had squeezed the trigger and pegged the rabbit right in the forehead. The force of the bullet had flung it wildly off to the side.

  “I hope you feel like eating rabbit stew tonight! That‘s a huge f’n rabbit!” Roy said to Paul, proudly with a huge smile.

  Paul looked at Roy with his new sense of hope. But Paul quickly became confused, because something wasn’t right. Roy was still smiling and laughing at Paul, but now there was something standing behind Roy. And Roy didn’t seem to notice.

  “Roy!” Paul managed to yell, but it was too late.

  A middle aged man with dirty matted hair, dressed in a brown forest ranger’s uniform had fallen onto Roy and bit him hard on his neck. Blood squirted high up into the air and Roy let out a gargled scream. Roy had sprawled away holding his neck and landed on his back in the stream of water. His neck was bleeding profusely and his blood had begun to mix with the water. Paul noticed the tainted blood was instantly running down stream, toward the cabin.

  Paul rushed up to his feet and without thinking, burned the axe into the stranger’s head. The smell, my god the smell was incredible. How long was this man infected? His insides must be decaying. Paul gagged as he removed the axe from the man’s head and went to Roy’s aid. Any of the new found sanity that Paul had just attained was now completely gone. He just stood over Roy, who was now infected.

  “That man….he is….” Roy struggled to say through a mouthful of blood. He was holding his right hand around his open wound; he was also starting to shake.

  “I know; he’s one of them.” Paul said, in a morbidly unemotional voice.

  “I…can you let me…see my daughter…once…” Roy fought to say again, now coughing up blood. The look on his face was of complete and utter sorrow, he knew his life was over.

  “No.” Paul said in response to Roy.

  “My wife…tell her that…”

  And before Roy could finish what he was trying to say, Paul buried the axe into his forehead. Roy’s head split into two nearly perfect pieces.

  Paul stood there for a while, in silence. He listened to the sound of his own breathing. He looked at Roy. He looked at the infected man. He looked up into the trees and then to the sky. Paul’s world had gone black and white, literally. The overbearing stress and complete lack of sleep had caused Paul to go colorblind. But he didn’t seem to mind.

  A slight breeze came through the trees; riding along with it was a distinct cold.

  Winter wasn’t over yet and the chaos of death was only just beginning.

  4

  After nearly an hour of being lost in surreal thought, standing over the body of Roy Benton, Paul began to walk back to the cabin. He only briefly thought of what he was going to say to Ruth and Kirsten. Of course they were going to ask him where Roy was, what had happened to Roy? And he was going to have to tell them that Roy was bitten and he had to kill him. But that wasn’t going to be the hard part. The hard part was going to be telling them that they are not safe in the mountains. The disease was here. Their water supply was now tainted with the infectious blood of Roy Benton. It was on
ly a matter of time before they would all be infected.

  Paul walked into the clearing surrounding the cabin. Everyone was sitting on the porch, waiting his return, expecting Roy to be with him. Paul was glad to see that no one was at the water stream and drinking directly from it. He walked closer to the cabin’s porch and stopped. The axe he was holding still had blood and black fluids dripping from it. Kirsten immediately noticed her husband was not with Paul, she saw the gruesome axe in his hand, then noticed the vague, empty look on Paul’s face and she knew right away. She stood up immediately and began to scream.

  “Where is Roy? Where is he?” she yelled frantically. Alexis stood up as well and grabbed her mother’s pant legs. She was already beginning to cry.

  “We heard a gunshot! God dammit Paul, where is my husband?” Kirsten screamed out again.

  Paul calmly put his hand outward, with his palm facing her.

  “You’ll want to stay quiet now. It isn’t safe.” Paul said, in a mild voice.

  Ruth, who was in shock this whole time, rushed Eddie and Shawn into the cabin. She didn’t want them to be part of this, but at this point, everyone was a part of this disaster. Ruth then went to the aid of Kirsten, trying to hug her and give her comfort.

  “He killed Roy! I know it, he’s fucking crazy now. How could we have let them go off into the woods alone?” Kirsten screamed, having lost it. She dropped to her knees sobbing, along with her daughter Alexis. The both of them knew Roy was dead; they didn’t need Paul to actually say anything about it. Their cries were echoing down the mountainside; which worried Paul greatly. He didn’t know who or what was listening.

  “Can you please be quiet?” he whispered loudly.

  Ruth stood there standing on the porch next to the two remaining members of the Benton family. She too was crying, but she was also wondering if it was safe or not to let Paul come any closer to them. To Ruth, Paul might have snapped and killed Roy in cold blood. She couldn’t believe she was entertaining the thought of Paul being a total psycho now, but then it became clear that Paul was not the killer.

  First the sounds and low tones started to fill the air; yet another thing riding along with the breeze. Kirsten had heard it too, she slowly stopped crying. Paul turned around, with his back to the cabin, facing the now deeply ominous woods.