“It just does. I mean. We all heard or saw what happened when law and order fell out. Most people worked together, but there was some violence and some rape. Then there was revenge for the violence and rape. All kinds of bad shit, but not that many people involved. Danielle had to straight-up stab this one asshole in the throat. He just kicked down her door and came at her like a fuckin' animal. She didn't skip a beat. She was in the kitchen. When he came at her, she grabbed a kitchen knife and gave him one of those — what’s it called when you get a hole cut in your throat? Like smokers get when they get emphysema.” impromptu tracheotomy.”
“A tracheotomy.”
“Yeah, so she gave him an impromptu tracheotomy. She’s the real deal, man. I’m happy to be with her. She could have just told me to go fuck myself and jerk off in the corner. A part of me hopes she enjoys herself, but I know I’m not much to look at.”
“Don’t talk that way.”
“I’m just being honest. Shit, I know I’m ugly. Why do you think I didn’t go out before this mess? No one can tell what you look like when you’re playing an MMORPG. Anyways, at least now my face is covered.”
Jesse tried and failed to stifle a laugh. Tim chuckled too.
Tim stopped looking under the tarps and started matching wheels with frames.
“Once we all got together there was this kind of, like, like an unspoken agreement at first. We all just kept to ourselves. Then one day after we had built the wall, she sat us down. She was all professional about it, and she set up a schedule and some ground rules. She said if we broke the ground rules, or started fighting, or did anything fucked up that she would leave. It was super awkward at first for me because, I had never, you know. So, I think I was more attached than anyone, but I think she really digs Nathan.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Sure, but not in an angry way. I know I'm not a prized catch. I mean I'm thirty-two now, I think, maybe I’m thirty-three, who keeps track of that shit anyways, and I didn't get laid until after the zombie apocalypse. I mean, how fucked up is that? So, yeah, it was true what those girls said about even if you were the last guy on earth. I mean, I basically am one of the last guys on earth, and I still don't have a girlfriend of my own. But, whatever, I get to play with all these weapons that I practiced with my whole life. So, it's not all bad. I just wish people weren't so against each other before all this happened. I think we could have made it, if we worked together. I mean, look at what the five of us did today. We fucked those things up, sorta, and now we are going to escape and go on an adventure. If I wasn't all cut to shit, I'd be really happy right now.”
“You've got a pretty positive outlook.”
“I think most of the truly depressed people are all dead by now, so us optimistic folk are all that’s left.”
“I suppose so.”
Jesse’s energy flagged. Adam was one of those morose individuals that did not survive.
“Let's just get these bikes,” said Jesse. “They're waiting for us.”
“Yeah, of course. Sorry, I don't get to talking that much.”
It took hours, but Tim had gotten five working bikes assembled and Jesse inflated their tires with a bike pump. They were not a matching set by any stretch, but Tim seemed to like that each could feasibly serve a different function. He grabbed all the spare tubes he could find and two pumps.
“Now, for the hard part,” said Jesse. "How do we get all these bikes back to the castle?”
“No, that's the fun part,” said Tim. He walked over to a large tarp and pulled it off. Under it was a large goblin's head, made of plaster and paper mache. Under the large head was a metal chassis with three seats. The thing had several wheels and had Gobble This written across the sides in bold golden letters.
“You've got to be shitting me,” said Jesse.
“We can haul the bikes on this. It's sturdy enough to get through town and to the keep.”
“You sure?”
Jesse inspected the strange vehicle. It appeared to be put together well enough.
“Yeah.”
“All right. It's not like we have a lot to lose.”
“Just our lives, which, according to you, we are already going to lose, right?”
“Right.”
“Then, let's go.”
They loaded up the machine and wheeled it out onto the street. Once they had gotten it onto the pavement, Tim climbed into the improvised cabin of the monstrosity.
“How does this thing work?” asked Jesse. He looked at the jury-rigged vehicle, unsure that he wanted to get inside.
“Let me worry about that. Just hop in.”
“Where — exactly?”
“You can climb in the back. There's a seat facing the other way.”
Tim's voice was confident, but Jesse did not like the idea of someone else being in control. His life was unstable enough that he did not relish putting his fate in Tim's hands, even for a ten-minute ride back to the castle.
“They're waiting for us, Jesse, we should go now.”
Jesse nodded and climbed into the back of the strange vehicle. Tim pedaled and the thing moved with an ease that surprised Jesse. Tim sped through the neighborhood and swerved around the stalled and abandoned cars that riddled the narrow streets. Once they were out on the highway, Jesse turned in his seat.
“Your cousin must have been an interesting guy.”
“Yeah,” Tim shouted over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the road. “When he wasn't twacked out of his gourd on crystal, he was a fun guy. Real good with an acetylene torch.”
“I knew a guy like that back in Silverdale.”
A Primus song popped into Jesse’s head, at Tim’s mention of his cousin’s drug habit.
So sit back and have a cup of Joe
And watch the wheels go round
'Cause those damned blue collar tweekers
Have always run this town!
Jesse turned and watched the town grow smaller in the distance. As he stared at the retreating city, he was reminded of a picture his parents used to have of a ghost town. In the picture, there was a collapsing barn and a cat sitting on the hood of a rusty, red truck. Nothing in the picture seemed abnormal except the cat. The cat just sat and stared for eternity, like it had always been on that truck and always would be. All cities were ghost cities now. Scattered all around the world were giant metropolises cleansed of human life, but still riddled with the artifacts of modern civilization. Places where once-important smart phones, computers, blenders, and the like lay useless and abandoned by their former owners. The thought passed, as Eureka disappeared into the Oregon haze.
“Hang on!” Tim yelled. “I don't know how this thing is going to deal with off-roading!”
Jesse grabbed onto the vertical support beams that his seat was welded onto. Tim directed the vehicle off the highway and into the field. The mad contraption jerked so hard that it sent Jesse into the air. Jesse gripped the beams and held himself in the air like a gymnast doing a ring exercise until the hard shaking stopped.
“Almost there,” Tim shouted. “This thing's pretty rickety, but it'll stay together — I think.”
They were within a few hundred yards of the castle when Tim yelled, “Oh shit!”
“What?”
“They're surrounded.”
Jesse lowered himself into the seat. He worked his axe free and held onto the support beam with his free hand.
“Get me as close to the gate as you can,” said Jesse.
“I won't have to. It looks like the wall's been pushed in.”
Tim pedaled faster and the vehicle rattled like an old house in a windstorm. He brought it to an abrupt stop, and the two ejected themselves from their seats and exploded in a sprint. Dozens of the creatures were pushing their way through the wall, and a few hundred were spread out near the perimeter of the wall. As they ran, Tim cast a sideways glance at Jesse.
“What should we do?” Tim asked, not breaking pace.
; “Charge!” Jesse barked. Tim's gripped his dirk. Tim was not a coward, but he was slight of frame and he looked ridiculous charging headfirst into battle. Jesse pulled out in front of Tim. He felt his legs move faster the closer he got to the creatures. Tim strained to keep up the breakneck pace. Instead of stopping and swinging his axe, Jesse lunged into the mass of creatures. He collided with them and they swayed with the force. He lifted a reanimate into the air and slammed it into the ground, shattering the bones in its body. At once it turned into little more than a chomping sack of skin containing the remnants of a skeletal system. Jesse postured up and smashed its skull with a single stroke of his axe. He came to his feet and swung his axe left and right, delivering deep gashes to the creatures around him.
“Behind you!” Blake yelled. A creature grabbed Jesse's neck and tried to bite him, but Jesse ducked under its arm, grabbed its jaw with his free hand, jerked the creature's head down, and brought the axe's handle down on the back of its neck. Its neck gave out and Jesse let the dead thing flop forward into the grass. He hopped backward and kicked another creature, causing it to topple over. Jesse picked apart the creatures several at a time. He would time his first shot with deadly accuracy, and follow up by grabbing the neutralized creature and launching it into the other reanimates. In a few short moments, he had created a pile of hacked, rotten bodies. A few remained standing, but they were unable to get past the obstacle Jesse had created. Jesse went through the collapsed part of the wall. Blake was standing by himself, exhausted, with his mace and shield hanging at his sides.
“Where are the others?” Jesse asked. Blake did not say anything, at first, and just drew in some quick breaths while staring at Jesse.
“Are they dead?” asked Jesse.
“By the gate,” Blake said so quickly that his answer sounded like a single word. Jesse crossed the courtyard and stopped near the fallen gate. Outside the wall, Jesse spotted Nathan and Danielle facing in opposite directions. A ring of dead reanimates created a temporary shield between them and the encroaching army. The dead had reformed their ranks. Nathan had heard him approach, and he looked over his shoulder.
“Did you guys get the bikes?” Nathan asked.
“Yeah, what happened here?”
“I'll tell you all about it later. Let's get the fuck out of here.”
He and Danielle lowered their weapons and ran through the gate. All three of them went over to Blake. He was hunched over with his hands on his knees, still out of breath. Nathan put his hand on Blake's shoulder, “Can you walk?”
“Yeah.”
“He's exhausted,” said Danielle. “There's no way he's pedaling out of here on a bike.”
“I can do it,” said Blake, but his breathy tone was far from convincing to the others.
“We've got something that we can all ride out on,” said Jesse. “At least for a while.”
“All right,” said Nathan, “I'll get the supplies.”
Nathan grabbed a few large sacks and hoisted them up on his left shoulder. Danielle shouldered a bag full of produce. Jesse grabbed his pack.
“Guys!” Tim yelled, “Help!”
Jesse ran on top of the bodies to get through the breach. He pushed aside a few shambling reanimates like they were nothing more than commuters in a subway. Tim was backpedaling and stabbing at a group of reanimates as he went. He was armed with only a dirk and the creatures were not fazed by his wild thrusts. Jesse jogged over. Before Jesse could reach him, a creature tackled Tim and brought him to the ground. The other two reanimates in the group fell on top of Tim in kind. Jesse brought his axe down on both of their spines and threw them away from Tim. Tim was unconscious, but his dirk protruded from the cheek of the reanimate that had knocked him down. Jesse pulled it out, and wiped it on his pant leg. He tapped Tim on the shoulder. When he got no response, Jesse picked up Tim's legs, hoping to send enough blood back to his brain to wake him up.
“Wake up!” he yelled. After a moment, Tim sucked in a lungful of air and opened his eyes. He grabbed Jesse's ankle.
“What happened? Did I do that?” Tim asked and pointed to the pile of dispatched attackers.
“You got knocked out,” said Jesse. Tim sat up for a moment, his eyes rolled back, and he fell back onto the grass.
“Shit. Help me up.”
“No, stay down for a minute. I'll hold them off.”
Tim lay on the grass, blinking at the sky. Jesse patted him on the chest, and stood up. Nathan and Danielle were nearby. A reanimate lunged for Danielle, but she sidestepped and drove her saber into its face. It toppled over, and she yanked her sword free and continued. She paused for a second when she caught sight of the curious goblin-headed vehicle.
Nathan had sheathed his large sword, and he was holding two large bags of food and supplies. He evaded the creatures as they threw themselves at him. One caught his leg when it lunged for him. Nathan dragged it along for a moment, unhindered by its light weight. After a few feet, he pulled his leg free and stomped on its head.
Blake plodded along at a slow pace, but he looked less exhausted than he had when Jesse last saw him. Jesse refocused on Tim, who was now sitting up, and he offered him a hand. Tim took it and Jesse helped him to his feet. Tim's knees buckled as soon as he rose, and Jesse wrapped his arms around him to stop his fall. Jesse picked him up like a sack of quick-dry cement.
“Well, this is embarrassing,” said Tim.
“It happens,” said Jesse.
“I'm telling Danielle,” Blake managed to get out through some troubled breaths as he passed the two. Jesse smiled. Danielle and Nathan put the supplies inside the Goblin machine. They pulled three bikes out of the back. Blake got into the passenger seat of the Goblin and Jesse put Tim into the driver's seat.
“What in the fuck is this thing?” asked Blake.
“Just your run of the mill kinetic sculpture,” said Tim.
“Your cousin was a DnD guy wasn’t he?” asked Blake.
“Yep, he was,” said Tim.
“Can you handle driving this thing?” Jesse asked. He looked into Tim's eyes to check for dilated pupils. Tim nodded and pushed Jesse away.
“Thanks for the concern, but I've got this.”
Jesse looked at Blake. Blake's normally pale face was flushed and covered in a thick sheen of sweat. Tim started pedaling. Jesse backed away as the vehicle made a wide turn toward the highway. Nathan wheeled two bicycles in front of Jesse.
“Take your pick,” he said. Jesse did not give much thought to the decision and grabbed the bike closest to him. The group pedaled across the field. The ground was bumpy, and they struggled getting the bikes through the tough terrain. The bikes were road bikes. The tires were thin and none of them had real suspensions. Jesse pedaled to the left side of the Goblin and spoke to Tim.
“I don't think we'll be able to make it far tonight, but if we can make it five miles down the road, then I think we can rest for a while.”
Tim nodded.
Jesse passed the Goblin and motioned to Nathan and Danielle.
“Five miles. Can you make it?”
“No problem,” said Nathan.
“Yeah,” said Danielle. She took another long look at the Goblin. “Will that thing make it?”
“It has to,” said Jesse.
Eleven
The Long Trek
They pedaled for hours, tolerating the pain and discomfort, and when they could no longer handle the pain they would walk. As daylight faded, they would find a place to stop for the night on the side of the road. They sat huddled in the freezing cold eating away their meager supplies. Nathan and Blake would hunt with Tim’s bow, but that yielded only birds and squirrels. At night, the warmth of their interwoven bodies competed against the persistent chill of winter. In those dire moments, they did what all survivors throughout history had done: they clung to life.
Winter passed and rain replaced the dry cold with a wet one. The first night they slept uncovered in the rain, they complained and cursed the weathe
r. Soon enough, they grew accustomed to the discomfort. Everyone but Jesse became thinner and harder, as the miles of asphalt between them and Eureka lengthened. His body remained unchanged like a wax sculpture. He let the others take the larger portions at mealtime, and he subsisted on berries and non-perishable food scavenged from the wrecked cars they came across.
Jesse took in the beauty of America as the countryside unfolded before him. Without the windshield and the comfy interior of a car to provide a buffer between him and the landscape, he was able to see California for what it was — gorgeous. The land was empty of people and that made it all the more striking. He felt like he was riding through Albert Bierstadt’s “Call of the Wild.” It was his father’s favorite painting and a reprint of it hung above their fireplace. In those calm moments, it all felt worth it: this world was worth saving even after all the destruction and death had taken their toll.
Tim came down with pneumonia, his immune system weakened by the infected cuts on his face. They stopped in the redwood forest to give Tim a chance to recover. Tim would sleep half the day and spend his waking hours shaking, refusing to eat. Jesse kept his distance. He would spend the days looking for food in the forest. He wanted to be around the trees; they comforted him. On the fourth day of their respite in the forest, Danielle found him with his neck bent back staring up at the canopy of the forest.
“How is he?” Jesse asked. He looked over his shoulder at her.
“I guess I walk pretty loud,” she said.
“Not really,” said Jesse. He looked forward again, “Listening is an important survival skill these days.”
“Yeah, I guess we got spoiled in our little castle.”
“We had a sort of castle too. I stayed in a few castles, but only yours was made of stone. It all seems like a big waste of time now.”
“Those castles kept you alive.”
“No, they didn't. My ability to leave things behind kept me alive.”
She made a sound and diverted her eyes.
“Is he going to live?” he asked. He turned and walked toward the trunk of a redwood. He touched the bark. It was so solid and strong. California had fallen to the armies of the dead, but the tree stood tall.
The Lost Gods Page 16
