by Cross, Amy
“What is it?” I hiss finally, looking back down at the yard. “I don't -”
And then I see it.
A figure darts from one shadow to the next, edging closer to the main door that leads into the storage unit. I raise my gun and aim in that direction, although the figure is once again out of sight. Whoever it is, they moved fast.
“Motherfucker,” Natalie says after a moment. “I almost pulled the trigger. Almost. I just wasn't sure. Still, he'll have to cross the main part of the yard if he wants to get to the door, and that's where we'll pick him off.” She adjusts her aim slightly. “If he's got any sense, he'll just turn around and go home like a good little boy.”
I try to aim my rifle accordingly, although the figure could be anywhere in the shadows. After a moment, however, I glance toward the far end of the yard. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm just wired and paranoid and exhausted right now, but I thought I spotted movement over there.
“Did you see something?” I ask. “Near the outlet?”
“Like what?”
“I thought maybe I spotted someone else,” I add.
“Doubtful.”
I watch the area around the outlet, in case the second figure reappears. I know it's unusual for two people to try to reach the unit at any one time, and I also know that they always work in pairs when they do. They stick together. It'd make no sense for one of them to hang back so far, but I swear I saw something move.
“Will you help me keep an eye on the guy we actually saw?” Natalie asks, sounding annoyed now. “If there's someone else out there, we'll deal with him when he gets closer. What's he gonna do from that distance, anyway, stare us to death?”
I hesitate for a moment, before returning my rifle's aim to the closer patch of shadows, where at least we're certain that someone is lurking.
“I really thought I saw someone near the outlet,” I explain. “I swear I did.”
“They can't do anything from over there,” she points out, not unreasonably. “Let's take these assholes out one at a time.” She adjusts her aim again. “I'm feeling lucky tonight, Lizzie. This is the night I finally get my first kill since we were set up on this rotten platform. Night after night of freezing our asses off, and finally I'm going to show these motherfuckers that they're not gonna mess with me. I swear, I'm gonna put this asshole's head on a pole and leave it out there for his buddies to see in the morning.”
“Maybe that's a little extreme,” I point out.
“It's the only language they'll understand. We've warned them enough times already.”
“They're only -”
Before I can finish, I spot movement again, off in the distance near the outlet. I turn and look that way, and a moment later I aim my rifle there as well.
“What the hell are you doing?” Natalie asks.
“There's someone over there!”
“So?”
“So something doesn't feel right,” I tell her. “They never come like this. It's almost as if they're trying to divide our attention!”
“Will you please just say focused?” she asks, reaching over and grabbing my rifle, then forcing me to aim down toward the closest part of the yard. “Hell, Lizzie, you're more easily distracted than my dog. The slightest thing and he'd be off running. Can you just be a team player here?” She pauses. “I miss that fucking dog. I'd rather have that mangy thing out here with me tonight than you. No offense.”
Sighing, I realize I'd better do what I'm told. Natalie's usually right about these things anyway, and I guess the person down near the door is the most immediate threat. If he gets through the door and into the unit, he'll probably be chased off by Docker and the others, but it'll still make Natalie and me look bad. We're supposed to be guarding this entire approach to the building, and I already know that my father doesn't think I'm cut out for the job. I don't want to give him confirmation of that fact.
“That's better,” Natalie whispers, as we both aim our guns at roughly the same spot on the ground, waiting in case the figure in the shadows gets brave enough to run for the door. “We'll make a sniper out of you yet, Elizabeth Marter.”
I flinch as soon as he says that.
“Steady,” she continues. “Stay calm. Let the motherfucker in the shadows make the first move.”
This time I don't say anything. I just want this whole thing to pass, so I keep my rifle aimed in roughly the right direction and I watch for any sign of movement.
It's cold tonight, colder than usual. I don't want to shiver, because then Natalie will make fun of me for being s scared, but honestly I'm -
Suddenly a shot rings out.
“What the hell” Natalie shouts, as a bullet hits the metal railing right between us, causing a brief spark.
Hearing footsteps down below, I look down just in time to see a figure racing out of the shadows and trying to make a run for the door of the storage unit.
“Get him!” Natalie hisses, firing at the man but missing, hitting the ground several feet beyond him.
I aim my rifle, making sure to be a little off, and then I pull the trigger, hitting the ground as the man continues to run.
“I said get him!” Natalie yells, firing again, still missing. “Where the fuck did these assholes get guns?”
I keep my gun focused on the man as he gets close to the door.
“Lizzie!” Natalie shouts, as I hear her reloading. “For fuck's sake, shoot him!”
I hesitate, before pulling the trigger again, aiming to hit the ground and scare the man away.
Instead, I watch in horror as the back of his head explodes, and then he slumps down and hits the ground. Too shocked to react, I simply stare as I realize that I didn't see my shot hit the ground.
“You got him!” Natalie gasps, as she aims her gun toward the outlet where we spotted the second figure. “Elizabeth Marter, you motherfucking sniper bitch, you took the asshole down! We finally got a kill out here!”
I open my mouth to tell her that she's wrong, that I missed, but then I realize that maybe I'm the one who's wrong. Sure, I aimed to simply scare the man away, but my hands are starting to tremble and I've never been a good shot. And as I stare at the figure slumped down there in the yard, and as I replay the moment when I saw the back of his head get blasted away, I feel a cold shudder pass through my chest. Natalie's right.
I just killed that man.
1am
Thomas
I'm so sick of the taste of gasoline.
I spit the foul stuff out and then I tilt the hose, using it to siphon more out of the truck and into my canister. The constant dribbling sound makes a noise – too much for my liking – but as I glance around at the darkness I don't see any sign that I've been spotted. Most of the others are asleep, and the few sentries on guard duty at the side of the road are far too busy chatting away.
My brother would be so proud of me right now. I swear, he used to actually enjoy stealing, it was almost as if it was his hobby. He always used to make fun of me for trying to follow the rules, and I know that over the past few weeks he'd have hated to see me stick around with this bunch of soldiers. I can almost hear him cheering me on as I siphon away more and more gasoline.
I just need a little more, and then I'll have enough to get on the road again. I have to get back to Lake Erie, to find Melissa and Katie and make sure they're okay. They'll be waiting for me. They must be wondering why I'm not back already.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Startled, I turn just as a figure grabs the hose from my hand and pulls it out of the truck.
“Stop that!” I hiss.
“Are you crazy?” Toad asks, keeping his voice low. “Do you realize what'll happen if you're caught stealing?”
“I have to leave!” I tell him. “I keep saying this, but no-one listens to me. I have to get to Lake Erie, and then I have to go find my sister, and then -”
“And you think they'll let you go?” he asks, as he pours the gasoline back into the truck's tank. “They're busy p
lanning for the final journey to Boston. We've been camped in this dump for long enough. Patterson and the others have got big plans, and they need every pair of hands and every drop of gasoline. Every bullet. Every truck. They've already made contact with some people who've been trying to break into the suburban stores at the edge of the city, and with some other groups that are headed that way. Patterson and Carter and the others aren't going to let you just wander away, Thomas.”
“Which is why I have to sneak away,” I reply. “Why don't you understand that? Isn't there anyone out there that you want to find?”
“She's long gone,” he says. “Or if she isn't, I don't know how to find her, not like this. My best bet is to hope that Patterson can establish contact with other groups. Then, eventually, maybe there'll be some kind of system for finding other survivors.”
“I thought you were more the solitary type,” I remind him. “Didn't you used to live all by yourself on a farm?”
“I'm pragmatic. Right now, I need these people, but if this madness ever ends, you can be damn sure I'm going back to my farm and I won't let anyone ever get me away from it again.” He pauses, and I can just about see him glaring at me in the darkness. “Getting to Boston is our only hope,” he adds. “Getting there and taking charge of the place. Deep down, you know I'm right.”
“The difference is, I know where I have to get to,” I reply. “Lake Erie, and then -”
“Not with stolen gasoline,” he says firmly interrupting me. “Patterson would have you shot if he knew what I just caught you doing. He's itching to make an example of someone right now. He's got his little puppy dog McGuinness keeping an eye on everyone, just waiting for one of us to slip up.”
“Please let me go,” I tell him. “Please, Toad, I have to go back for them. I promised.”
“And what exactly was your plan? Were you just going to siphon off some gasoline and then drive away in your truck?”
I pause, before nodding.
“Well, I've got some bad news for you, kid.”
Grabbing my arm, he pulls me around to the side of the vehicle. I'm about to tell him that I don't need his help, but then suddenly I see several small lights in the distance. The night guards usually sit around in total darkness, so the lights mean that something's up.
“You chose the wrong night to try sneaking around,” Toad explains. “You'd have been shot before you even managed to get your engine started. That's why I came looking for you. Someone's spotted something coming this way. Something bad.”
***
“I thought the zombies were history,” McGuinness says, sounding distinctly unimpressed as we stand at the side of the road. She sniffs, before spitting into the dirt. “No-one's seen one in weeks.”
“Which is why this is such a surprise,” Patterson says darkly. “Listen, I'm as surprised as the rest of you, but we've verified the sighting. The damn thing is about five hundred meters out there and coming this way. It's slow, like a lot of them have been, but we can't afford to wait until daylight to take it down. I need a team to go out there and contain the threat.”
“You mean roast it?” Taylor asks.
“I mean stop it, but keep the creature intact if you can,” Patterson tells him. “The patrol team say that this zombie is slow but relatively intact, and Carter's already keen to get her hands on it.”
“How can it be intact after all this time?” I ask.
Patterson turns to me.
“They were all supposed to have rotted away,” I point out. “If this one's intact, then that means...”
My voice trails off as the awful realization hits me.
“Bingo,” Patterson says. “I never subscribed to the theory that all the zombies were gone. I always thought there were more out there, and this new arrival suggests that the virus is still active. The patrol estimated the zombie as being no more than a few weeks into its existence, four at most, which means -”
“It was infected well within the last month,” Toad mutters. “Whoever it was, they initially survived the outbreak.”
“Which means the virus is still able to be transmitted,” Patterson points out. “So much for the idea that we were entering a safer phase of the outbreak. Even if it only travels through body fluids, that could pose a serious threat.”
“Bitey bitey,” McGuinness chuckles. “Gotta watch out for their teeth.”
“We haven't seen any zombies for a while, though,” Miller replies. “That has to mean something.”
“We're out in the middle of nowhere,” Patterson says. “For all we know, the cities are teeming.”
“But you said Boston was -”
“As far as I know,” Patterson says firmly, “Boston is still under the control of a kind of council that thinks it has the right to rule the world. We'll deal with them when we get there, but right now we need to understand what's going on with the zombies. We know their minds are linked, that there seems to be one controlling mind that speaks through all of them.”
“Joseph,” I mutter under my breath.
“The point is,” Patterson continues, “we lost the ability to talk to the zombies when their mouths literally rotted away. If this latest one is fresh, it should be able to talk. The mind of this Joseph guy might be in there, and we can find out some more about what he wants. That's why, if at all possible, we're going to take the zombie alive.”
“How the hell do we do that?” McGuinness asks.
“The good old-fashioned way,” Patterson says. “Ropes and stakes in the ground.”
As he continues to explain, I look out into the darkness beyond this crumby little town. Apparently there's a zombie out there, and apparently it might still contain the shared mind of Joseph Aldred. I'd begun to believe, like most other people around here, that the zombies were no longer a threat. Now that this turns out not to be the case, I can't help feeling a flicker of rage as I realize that Joseph's plan might still be ongoing. He's the asshole who caused all of this, and without his stupid games my family would still be alive. A lot of people would still be alive.
If we find him again, I want to make sure that he pays for all of this. First, though, we have to go and find this zombie, and I'm not exactly thrilled at the prospect. And I swear that – as we set off – I feel a twinge in my left shoulder, in the spot where just over a month ago I was bitten by one of those goddamn creatures.
2am
Elizabeth
“You did it!”
As soon as we're back in the locker room, Natalie throws her arms around me and pulls me tight for a celebratory hug. I honestly don't think I've ever known her this happy. I don't think I've ever known anyone this happy. She's ecstatic.
“Okay,” she continues, pulling back but keeping her hands on the sides of my arms as she grins at me, “full confession time, I didn't think you had it in you. I'm sorry, Lizzie, but I thought you were too scared to actually do it. I even thought maybe you were missing deliberately, but look at you now! You cut that motherfucker down!”
“I... did,” I reply, still shell-shocked.
“Did you see Markham and Stanovsky's faces when I told them?” she continues. “I don't think they believed me until they saw the corpse down there. I bet they'll spend their whole shift talking about it. Damn it, girl, you're going to get a reputation as a cold-blooded killer!”
“I am?” I reply.
“We're lucky they only had one bullet,” she says, turning and grabbing a towel, using it to wipe her armpits. “I mean, they must have found a gun somewhere and figured they could use their only shot to try to distract us. That guy you saw by the outlet must have been the one who fired, but they reckoned without Elizabeth Marter, didn't they? Don't worry, I'm going to let you take all the glory for this. You deserve it.”
“I'm not sure that I do,” I reply, as I look down at the rifle in my hands. I really used this thing to kill a man.
“At first light,” she continues, “we'll go and take a look at the miserable son of a bit
ch. You wanna see the fruits of your labor, don't you?”
I turn to her.
“Look at you!” she laughs. “You're white as a sheet!”
***
“No, this is wrong,” I whisper as I sit on my bed and lean forward, putting my head in my hands. “You did what you had to do. This reaction is all wrong, you were only doing your job. That guy was trying to steal supplies. It was him or us. You did the right thing.”
I'm trying to make myself believe those words, but it's not easy.
I'm trying to distract myself by changing the bandage around my right foot. A few weeks ago I had to have the new foot removed after it developed an infection, and now I have a stump attached to a specially-rigged shoe. It's not ideal, but at least I can get around. As I fix the new bandage in place, however, I realize that this distraction is only going to be temporary.
In my mind's eye, I'm already seeing the body again, out there in the yard.
Killing someone in self-defense is one thing. I did that months ago, back when I was at the apartment and Bob was trying to get me. But killing someone with a rifle feels different somehow. The fact that I didn't see the guy's face should make it easier, but instead it somehow makes me feel worse. He was just somebody trying to survive, somebody like me or Henry or Natalie or Dad. A father, maybe, or at least somebody's son. Or maybe it was a woman, or even a child. In the darkness, I couldn't tell for sure. It's two in the morning now, which means there's a little over three hours until the first light of dawn. That's when the dead person will become easier to see.
I'm going to have to go out there and look at him, to face what I did.
“Now maybe you're starting to understand,” a voice says suddenly, and I turn to look across the room.
I don't see anyone, but I can feel pinpricks of cold fear rising up the back of my neck as I realize that I recognized that voice.
“You're not quite so innocent anymore, are you?”
Turning, I'm horrified to see that I was right.
Bob Sullivan is sitting on one of the other beds, grinning at me. In an instant, I know that this is a hallucination, that he died months ago and that his body is back in New York. I close my eyes, hoping that he'll be gone when I open them again, but instead I see him still sitting there, still smiling at me. He looks so pleased with himself, as if he's won some argument that I didn't even know was raging. The fact that he's not real, that this is all part of my mind, doesn't make things feel better at all.
