by Russ Watts
“Fuck, Hamsikker, you okay?”
From the expression on Erik’s face, he knew he must look a sight. Jonas wiped his face, trying to erase the sticky fluids and blood that covered him, and he spluttered out an answer. He couldn’t really think straight. All he could see was the girl’s face exploding.
“She didn’t...get you?” asked Erik. He was still holding the baseball bat aloft, its rounded tip covered in gore.
Jonas could see that Erik had adopted a defensive stance. He was ready to strike, and this time the bat would be aimed at Jonas’s head. It was fair enough. The man had a family to protect. If Dakota was in trouble, he knew he would do the same thing. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, including his friends.
Jonas picked up his axe. “I’m fine,” he grunted.
Erik looked at Jonas from head to toe. Jonas felt like he was under a microscope, being scrutinised in case he was lying.
“I said I’m fine. What, you want to take me in for questioning, officer?” said Jonas brusquely as he wiped his brow. “Let’s get out of here. I need to get this shit off me.”
Jonas attempted to push past Erik, to get out of the bus into the open air, but Erik didn’t move. He didn’t lower his bat either.
“Listen, Hamsikker, and listen up good. You got lucky. What the hell were you thinking, dropping your weapon like that?” Erik’s expression had turned from one of sympathy to anger. “You get yourself in a situation like that again, and you’re likely to end up losing more than your dignity. You understand?”
Jonas thought about answering back. He thought about shouting Erik down, telling him to back off, to let it go, to forget it, but he was too tired, and he didn’t want to argue. Nothing had happened, not really, at least nothing that warranted getting into an argument. He just wanted to get out of the bus, away from the stench of death, and to wipe the girl’s innards from off him. “I’m cool.” He sighed. “I just...I just hoped she was...you know.”
Erik lowered his bat, and shrugged his shoulders. When he spoke next, he had softened his tone. Jonas wondered if it was a technique he had learned in the force. “All right, buddy, no harm done. I know that we’re all wound up right now. Just don’t take any chances next time, okay?”
“Next time?” Jonas smiled. “Next time, you go in first, and I stand guard.”
“True that,” said Erik.
Jonas smiled at Erik, and Erik smiled back, but both were forcing it. It was as both men wanted to prove they could handle it. Neither wanted to think about what might happen the next time one of them was cornered.
“Right, let’s go,” said Erik clearing his throat, back in police mode. “The others are outside, but it won’t be long before those critters catch up.”
They filed out of the bus, and Dakota ran up to Jonas. “What happened? You look terrible.” She began to wipe at his face and neck, dabbing at him with a handkerchief.
“I’m fine. Just a little trouble - nothing we couldn’t handle.” Jonas hated lying to Dakota, but she didn’t need to know the truth. He knew that if Erik hadn’t been there, he might not have been walking out of that bus alive. He began to wipe his face. “How’re you doing?”
“As well as can be,” said Dakota as they followed Quinn down the off-ramp. “I just wish this was over. My head is killing me, my feet are sore, and it’s so damn hot, I think my sweat has sweat.” Dakota wafted her shirt, letting some air up underneath the loose cotton.
“We can’t stop just yet, honey,” said Jonas. “They’re not far behind, and it’s not safe here. We have to keep going, just a bit longer until we find somewhere to rest up.” Jonas looked around at the streets as they reached the bottom of the off-ramp. “I remember this area. That cafe over there, that’s where we used to hang out after school sometimes. Janey would usually go for a chocolate milkshake, and I would have a ginger beer.”
“But you hate ginger beer.”
“I know, but I thought it looked cool.”
Dakota smiled. It was a rare thing these days, and Jonas savoured it. As soon as the smile had come, it was gone though, flitting across her face like the shadow of a bird. Janey used to smile like that too, back when their mother was alive and they could claim to be a happy family. Remembering Janey only made him realise how much he missed her. He had only met her kids, his three nephews, via Skype, and right then he would’ve given anything to see them all in person. He had wanted to talk to Dakota about heading north again, yet, time seemed to be at a premium, so he attempted to broach the subject again as they walked. It was no good putting it off until later. He wasn’t sure there would be a later the way the day was turning out.
“I’ve been thinking,” said Jonas. “We need to get back on track. I really need to get to Janey. Tomorrow, I want to get going.”
“To Canada? You realise how crazy that sounds? I’m not sure we can find a way out of Jeffersontown, let alone get across three states, and the border to another country. ”
“I know, but I have to try, I really do. I can’t let her down.” Not again, he thought, but he didn’t say it. “After tonight, I’m going to tell Erik and Quinn. If they’re on board, I think the rest will come with us. Safety in numbers, you know? I’d rather we stuck together. I don’t like the thought of leaving them, especially Erik, but I can’t just keep waiting. Things aren’t getting any better, and Janey’s on her own.”
“And if they won’t come? What then?” asked Dakota.
“Then it’s you and me. Okay?”
“She might not be on her own. She might have friends with her.”
Jonas hoped she did, but he doubted it. The last time they had spoken, it didn’t sound like Janey had anyone with her except the kids. He told her he would come. He promised he would come for the children, for Mike, Chester and Ritchie, and he told her how much he loved her and wanted to put things right. It was when he started talking to her about the funeral that she had begun crying. She hadn’t cried when he’d told her their father was dead, but she cried that night on the phone. She cried and poured her heart out about how difficult it was on her own, how she missed Jonas, how cold she was, and how scared the kids were. He promised her again he would come, and then the line had gone. He couldn’t leave her like that, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t let that be the last conversation between them.
“Look, Dakota, I don’t think this is the time to debate it, I just wanted to tell you.”
“But don’t you think…”
“It’s happening.” Jonas cut Dakota off and strode ahead, aware that Dakota was falling behind him. He instantly regretted snapping at her, but there was no way he was going to get into an argument about it. Janey needed him, and Dakota had to realise that. It wasn’t like they could stay in Jeffersontown forever. The town was dead, and he could see little point in staying. Erik would surely agree. They had more chance if they headed north. Get away from the big cities, away from where the population had been, and find Janey. She lived in a small, quiet town, only just over the border. She’d asked him to visit so often, and there had always been an excuse. He realised now he had just been putting it off. He hadn’t seen his sister in person for years. They frequently talked on the phone, and he’d Skyped last Christmas, but actually seeing Janey in the flesh scared him. He wasn’t sure how Janey felt about their past, or if she expected anything now their father was gone. She said she didn’t hold grudges, but she sure as hell held one for her father, and he couldn’t blame her on that one. The question was did she hold one against Jonas? Maybe that was why she never pushed him to visit. The past was never an easy place to go, and the distance between them somehow made it more bearable. It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing he wanted to talk about on the phone, so he kept their conversations light, discussing the news, how the kids were, and how their jobs were going. There was only one thing he could do now to make up for his failings, and that was go to her, to tell her how sorry he was, and to make sure she was surviving. A promise was more than words, and he
was going to fulfil it, no matter what fate put in his way.
“We need more guns,” said Jonas as he caught up with Erik.
Erik looked at him. “I hear you. There’s a station a couple of blocks from here. We could try it, but to be honest, I think it’s a waste of time. Any cop with a brain would’ve taken what they could. It’s likely to be empty.”
“We can’t keep defending ourselves with bats and knives. They’re getting too close. Any gun stores around here? I don’t remember.”
Erik shook his head. “No. This is a pretty boring neighbourhood. Nothing much has changed in the last twenty years, except the usual. You know, retail stores closing down, more boarded up, and more gas stations opening. No, if we wanted to find a gun shop we’d have to head south, and that’s quite a task. It would take us close to the park, and back to…”
“Right, gotcha.” Jonas was still feeling irritable from his brittle conversation with Dakota. “Any useful information, you can depart with?”
“Yeah,” said Erik, “wind your head in, otherwise, it’s likely to get bitten off. I’m not stupid. I know we need weapons. We also need food, water, and a place to stay for the night. You think I haven’t thought about that? You think I haven’t thought about how I’m going to protect my wife and kids?”
Jonas saw Pippa looking over at them, and wished Erik would just stay quiet. Her eyes were accusing, and he wondered if she was angry with Jonas for questioning her husband, or more annoyed with her husband for raising his voice. He was about to answer Erik when they came to a halt. Quinn was standing in the road, one hand clutching her knife, the other held up as if she were a cop directing traffic.
“Enough. I’ve just about had enough of you two bickering. In case anyone needs reminding, we have more pressing matters to deal with,” said Quinn.
Jonas glanced around and saw everyone looking at him. Pippa and Dakota were throwing him icy stares, while Terry, Tyler, Peter and Freya kept their distance. They didn’t get too involved in what went on with the group. Jonas almost snapped back at Quinn, but he fought the urge to answer back. She was right about one thing; they had more important matters to deal with.
“You said we wanted guns, right?” asked Mrs Danick standing shoulder to shoulder with Quinn.
Jonas replied with a nod. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. “You stumble across an AK-47, Mrs Danick?” It had sounded like a joke in his head, but it came out deadpan, and he instantly regretted his choice of words. As Mrs Danick shot him one of her withering looks, he could practically feel his balls shrivel up. He wasn’t intentionally trying to piss everyone off, but somehow today he was messing everything up.
“No, but if you care to take your head out of your ass, you might want to look in there.” Mrs Danick pointed across at two large, white tents straddling the road ahead. They were barricaded by makeshift gates and white CDC vans.
Jonas took a step forward, forgetting the conversation. His attention was now fully drawn on the tents and what might lie within. Two police cars parked outside hinted that they might not find any help inside the tents. Jonas saw one had smashed into a tree by the roadside. The front windscreen was gone, and the hood was smeared with blood. The other had taken on a fire truck, and neither had come off well. With their crumpled bodies and broken glass, they looked more like a piece of modern art with the way their twisted metal frames had melded together. Under the fire truck was a body, its legs still twitching. The head was hidden from view, and one of the huge wheels sat on the body’s midriff. Jonas didn’t need to go looking under the vehicle to know it was a zombie, trapped forever, destined to twitch its legs until time finally decomposed it and its dusty remnants were carried away on the breeze.
“What do you think?” asked Erik as they slowly neared the scene.
His question was meaningless. Jonas knew Erik wanted to explore the tents, to see if they could find any information, or get their hands on any useful supplies. The truth was so did he. There was a risk involved, but when wasn’t there? Randall had already paid with his life, and standing still wasn’t an option. They had to investigate the tents. If the CDC had set them up, there could be useful information inside, maybe even medicine or information that could help.
“You take that large front opening,” said Jonas, “but be careful. Could be anything in there. Quinn, you stay with the group, in case...in case we don’t come out.”
Erik nodded.
“I’ll go in from the rear. There should be a way in around the side there. That way we have the entrance and exits covered. I don’t want any surprises, so wait until I’m in position before you go in, okay?” Jonas squeezed Dakota’s hand and turned to her. “I’ll be back in a second.”
As he walked away he regretted his choice of words. Wasn’t it bad karma to say ‘I’ll be back,’ right before going into a dangerous situation? He could have told Dakota to stay safe, or that he loved her, but no, ‘I’ll be back.’ The words played on his mind as he slid between two wooden gates, and slipped quietly around the side of the tent. There was complete silence, and no sign of anything moving inside, yet he gripped the axe so tightly his hands hurt. He did not want his last words to be anything as stupid or pithy as ‘I’ll be back.’
He heard a zipping noise, and knew Erik was about to enter the front. Jonas approached the flapping tarpaulin doorway, and with one hand he slowly drew back one side of the entrance. Peering into the gloom, he saw a tangle of wires, some chairs and tables, and a mountain of paperwork scattered about the floor. Nobody came out to greet him so he slunk through the opening, the axe raised to head height. Looking further around the first tent, he guessed it might have been some sort of checkpoint at one time. The road leading out of Jeffersontown was probably overrun with people trying to get away. By the time the CDC had set up shop, most people would’ve left anyway, been infected, or turned. Still, the illusion of safety had helped the great populace before, and perhaps the government thought they could pull it off again.
Too little, too late, thought Jonas as he cast his eyes over the desk to his left. A mug of curdled coffee sat by a blank computer screen, and mould grew over the lip of the mug. He was tempted to stick a finger in and suck on it; to taste coffee again would almost be worth the undoubted sickness he would suffer arising from touching that dirty mug. Seeing nothing of use, he carried on and ventured toward the next doorway. There was a lone bloody handprint on the ground, and he ignored it. Blood was such a common sight these days that unless it was pouring from a fresh wound, it was of no more significance than the sun rising. Besides, the blood was old and dry, and whoever had left it there was no longer around. He poked the axe head through another opening, and saw a room similar to the one he had just been in. This one was a little different though, as there were two dead bodies curled up in a corner. He knew they were dead; their corpses were little more than skeletons, and they had been left to rot. A few rags still covered them: tattered pieces of clothing stuck to yellow bones, and the group had no use for them. He looked across the room and noticed another figure, this one under a table, laid out flat. It was clothed in a grey Hazmat suit, and still wore protective boots and mask. In one hand was a revolver, and the man’s head was in bits. It looked like the man had blown his brains out, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help now. Jonas bent down and read the name badge stuck on the dead man’s chest.
“Sorry, Di Maria, but I need this more than you do.” Jonas took the gun. He checked and found there were still four bullets inside. Pocketing it, he saw more guns beneath the table. He didn’t know much about guns, and didn’t recognise them, but he would take anything he could at this point. Erik could look over them later, when they had time. Left behind in the rush to leave, the guns were going to be useful, and Jonas scooped them up in his arms. Feeling pleased they had finally come across something useful, he turned to the doorway he had come through and saw a figure stumble toward him. Its eyes were gone, nothing but shallow bloodied pits, and its jaw hun
g open. Strands of grey hair flew around its face, as the zombie lurched toward Jonas. Surprised, Jonas dropped the guns quickly, and raised his axe. Before he took aim, Jonas noticed the creature had something in its hands. Something red and juicy was clutched in its gnarled fingers, and Jonas thought he saw a scrap of hair protruding from its teeth. It looked like it had fed recently. The thought that there might be other survivors out there rushed over Jonas, renewing his energy, and it urged him on to take down the monster approaching him.
With one clean blow, he felled the zombie quickly and quietly. The zombie’s face was cleaved in half before it even hit the ground. Jonas scooped up the guns, and decided to leave. Where there was one, more usually followed. Quinn and Tyler were more than capable of handling the odd one, but if they were suddenly surrounded, Jonas didn’t like to think of the consequences. He was about to leave the way he’d come in, when he heard a scream. It was cut short abruptly, and then he heard more noise coming from the next room. A clattering sound, as if someone was banging pots and pans together erupted. He didn’t want to risk leaving the guns again, in case he couldn’t get back to them, but there was no way he could fight off anything while holding them all. He looked around and found a briefcase lying askew beside a bare desk. He raced over, tipped out its contents, which proved to be nothing more than a collection of old files, and a mouldy apple, and placed the guns inside. With the case in one hand, his axe in the other, he felt better equipped to deal with whatever was going on. There was another short scream, but he couldn’t tell who it was. It was coming from outside the tent, but first, he had to deal with the noise in the next room. Erik might be in trouble.
Pushing aside the tent flap, Jonas strode in with his axe raised, and found Erik on the floor wrestling with a dead man. The room was trashed. The fight had taken them all around the room, and what appeared to be some sort of triage room had become a chaotic mess with medical equipment scattered everywhere. Erik was broad shouldered, and as tough as they came, but the zombie on top of him was just as large. Evidently a construction worker of some sort, judging by the yellow vest he wore, and solid work boots over dirty jeans. Jonas could tell Erik was struggling to push the dead man away. Dropping the case, Jonas immediately brought the axe down on the dead man’s back. They were rolling around too much for him to risk aiming for the head, and he buried his axe deep between the zombie’s shoulder blades. There was no cry of pain, or shock, but it must’ve been enough to alert the zombie to Jonas’s presence. It turned its head, and Jonas was struck by how normal the man looked. If it weren’t for his ashen skin, and a gaping hole in the dead man’s neck, he could’ve passed for a normal, living human being.
