by Haga, A. H.
We’d filled the wheels with new air before leaving, so the chair was a lot more movable than before. I was unused to it, and this movability made the chair roll straight into the door.
The thud I made was small, but the people on the other side surged forward as a wave. The glass pane that had been falling inward was pushed back into the metal frame with a loud slam that made me grit my teeth.
A crack formed in the glass on impact.
I sat, frozen, as the crack spread with surprising speed until it spider-webbed across the entire window. The woman with only one eye was pushed against the door by the people behind, and her teeth snagging on one of the cracks. I heard a click as her teeth touched the glass, then the whole thing splintered, looking like a fog for half a heartbeat before falling away. Nothing was left between the woman and me as she fell over the middle bar of the door. Other zombies leaned over her, arms stretching toward me.
3
I screamed and used my legs to push away from the door. They may not carry me, but at that moment, I thanked whoever wanted to listen that they still worked. Pain flared up my legs as I placed them back onto the foot-holds, but I gritted my teeth and ignored it as best I could.
“I told you not to go closer!” Shadia bellowed as she grabbed my handles and spun me around.
I just had time to see the first zombie claw its way over the middle bar of the door and thump onto the asphalt before I was facing the street again. Shadia was running, pushing me with all she was worth.
Turning in my chair, I looked back to see the first zombie getting to its legs and stumbling after us. Others were following through the opening, falling on top of each other.
I was about to turn back around, breathing a sigh of relief, when a wet sound reached me, and I saw the torso of the woman with one missing eye thump to the ground. Black blood oozed from her midriff as she lifted her head and focused that one eye on me.
“What was that?” Shadia yelled, panic making her voice high and warbled.
I spun back around in my seat, covering my mouth, trying not to throw up. Holy crap, had I just seen that? Tears filled my eyes, and I lifted my glasses, hurriedly drying them away. Why was I crying?
We reached the top of the street, and Shadia stopped running. When I looked up, I saw she was turned around, looking back the way we’d come. I saw her dark eyes focus on the people making their way up the street toward us, shambling and seeming unsure of their own bodies. Thankfully, they were slow.
I let out a breath of relief and turned back around, looking at the round-about before us, wondering where to go next. In front of us, the street was clogged with cars, some even parked up on the sidewalk that we would have to weave around, but she wasn’t looking at that.
My mind froze as something moved between the many cars, and it took three full heartbeats before I could think again. “Uhm, Sha?” I said, not taking my eyes off the movements.
“What?” Shadia asked. I could hear by her voice that she was still turned away.
“I think we should move.”
“Why? They’re not that fast. I think we’re safe for now.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Why?”
I turned around and slapped her hip. “Just look!”
She glared down at me for half a second before she followed my pointed finger with her eyes. Her jaw clenched and her eyes grew wide, fear making her pupils grow large for a second.
The cars were packed nose to bumper, but in the little room between them stood zombies. They lay over the hoods of the cars or the roofs, clawing at the shining paint to get at us. Two of the cars had zombies inside them, clawing and biting at the windows to get out. Moaning and clacking filled the air until my head was buzzing. The sounds seemed to come from all over. Why hadn’t I noticed before? Or had I, but it was drowned out by the rushing of blood as I looked at the zombies inside the stadium?
As we stood, frozen and watching, one of the zombies managed to drag its lower body onto the hood of a car and crawl over it, falling face-first onto the pavement but pushing up before its feet hit the ground.
Shadia cursed in Arabic.
“I think we should move now,” I managed, not taking my eyes off the zombie as it stood. It had been a man, once, probably handsome if I was to guess from the sandy hair and the broad shoulders.
“Yes,” Shadia agreed.
A shudder ran through my chair as she grabbed the handles and pushed me around.
Glancing back the way we had come, I saw that the zombies from the stadium had gotten dangerously close. If we didn’t hurry, they would catch up to us.
“We gotta go,” I murmured.
Shadia didn’t need to be told twice. She started jogging, pushing me in front, and we rattled over the tram tracks.
My eyes, jumping around and trying to focus on everything at once, found an opening between the cars on the round-about up ahead, two zombies having already got through it.
“Sha …” I began.
“I see them,” she growled.
“What do we do? There’s nowhere to go!” I wasn’t joking. On our left side were buildings and fences. On our right was the round-about and its moat of cars and dead people. Behind were dead people, and in front were dead people.
“We have to go through,” Shadia said.
I spun to look up at her, the chair twisting with the sudden movement. “What?”
Without another word, she let go of my chair with one hand. With my weight all messed up from being turned around, my chair wobbled and almost tipped, but she was able to keep me straight, never taking her eyes of the zombies ahead. We were rushing at them, and they would be upon us in two steps. With her free hand, she grabbed the knife at her belt and pulled it loose from its sheath. Before I could ask what she was doing, she almost threw it in my face. I reached up on instinct and took it. Before I had a proper grip, she was holding my chair with both hands again and was bowling me into one of the zombies.
I screamed as my feet hit its shins, making it topple toward my face. I reached up and grabbed it by the shoulders, flipping it to the side. Before it even hit the asphalt, we were past, Shadia running full out. My hat almost flew off my head, but I was able to grab at it and keep it in place.
We left the second zombie behind, but there was no time to celebrate as more of them were flowing from between the cars. Shadia did what she could to avoid them, pushing me up as close as she could to the fence on our left, but they were still coming.
Not thinking about the pain it may cause, I turned in my chair, flinging one leg over the armrest and kicking out. I hit the zombie that had been coming at us in the chest and threw it back into two others, making them all fall over.
I couldn’t help the sound of mixed pain and joy escaping me before I turned forward again, making sure none of them got in our way.
Finally, we reached the next street. My own eyes hadn’t even properly focused on it before Shadia sighed and pushed me down it. It was empty, thankfully.
Shadia didn’t stop running, and when I was sure no dead people would jump us from the front, I turned and looked back. We were four cars down the street, and already the entrance was clogged with the walking dead.
She let go of one handle to squeeze my shoulder once. I leaned into her hand, focusing on the love in it and not the mild burn of the pressure.
Careful not to mess with our speed and balance, I reached back, pushing my hand between the rucksack and the back of the chair, and into the pockets there. I pulled out the cola bottle we’d stashed there before finding my pillbox in the pocket of my jacket. I was starting to sweat, a hot flash coming on, but I didn’t have the energy to take my jacket off. My hands were shaking as I pulled off the gloves and used an anti-bacterial wipe to clean my hands. Skin still smelling of alcohol, the scent almost overpowering, I opened the box and picked up a small yellow and green capsule. I popped it in my mouth before I unscrewed the coke and swallowed the pain-pill with two gulps.
After screwing on the lid, I kept the coke between my legs, within easy reach, and pulled on my gloves again.
“Close your eyes and rest until it kicks in,” Shadia said. “We’re safe for now.”
I didn’t quite believe her, but I closed my eyes anyway. The sound of my wheels across the asphalt and Shadia’s breathing almost drowned out the sound of moaning and bodies falling against cars behind us. Almost.
4
I sat on the sofa at home with my legs pulled up under me and stared at the letter. I couldn’t feel the hands holding it, and a headache was hammering behind my eyes. I swore that was the reason I was crying, not the words.
I sat like that, not moving, for almost an hour before Shadia came home, her hair still wet from the showers at the gym.
“Hey, habibi!” she called before she disappeared into the bathroom as she always did the moment she got home. I was pretty sure she didn’t use it, just took a few moments to herself to prepare to meet me. She never knew what she would come home to, after all.
Today had been a good day. I’d been able to empty the dishwasher. At least it would be one thing less for her to worry about.
She exited the bathroom after half an hour. I still hadn’t been able to look up, but my eyes jumped when I saw her shadow on the floor.
“What’s that?” she asked and fell onto the sofa beside me.
I handed her the letter, my joints creaking from lack of use. It felt like I was a puppet forgotten in storage for a long time. A puppet with wormholes in the head and legs filled with pain, but no one saw the pain on the puppet’s painted face.
“Are you kidding me?” Shadia almost screamed the words. “They can’t do this! This time, we get a lawyer. I don’t care what you say, I’m calling them tomorrow.”
“Why bother?” I asked, my voice low and hoarse from the tears I was trying to hold at bay.
Shadia moved to me and took my face in both hands. They were warm and felt unreal against my skin. “Kit, habibi, you have a right. You got sick, and the treatment made you even sicker. It isn’t your fault you’re the way you are.”
“They don’t believe me.”
“No, one person doesn’t believe you. Your caseworker believes you, I believe you, our friends and family believe you.”
“But what if they’re right? What if it’s all really in my head?”
“Did the shrink say that when you were there last year?” I shook my head. “No, because this isn’t in your head. This is a neurological disease that is slowly eating you up, and I won’t let one asshole at NAV try to convince you otherwise. We will find a lawyer, and we will send a complaint, you hear me?” I nodded. “Good.”
She let my face go and crumpled the letter into a small ball before tossing it toward the other side of the room. When she turned to me again, she was smiling, and the smile moved from her lips to mine as they touched, even if it didn’t quite reach my eyes.
On the other side of the room, the letter unfolded a little, the words ‘Request for disability income: denied’ barely visible.
Shadia’s hand on my shoulder brought me out of the hot daze. I had to shake my head a couple of times to dislodge the memory, wondering why I’d thought of that now. It’s not like NAV was a problem anymore.
It took me a moment to realize we weren’t moving.
“Why did we stop?” I asked and looked around. We stood in front of a hotel. The glass doors at the top of the steps were broken, but otherwise, it looked untouched.
“I thought maybe we should stop for the day,” Shadia said, her voice light. It was the tone she used when she wanted me to make a decision about my health but didn’t quite trust me to make the right one.
“No,” I said, knowing it was the answer she expected and dreaded. I turned to look at her, having to tilt my hat back to do so. “We’re not even close to out of the city. We need to keep going.”
She looked at my face, trying to meet my eyes through the glasses. “Kit, you fell asleep in the chair. You shouldn’t push yourself.”
“You know I’ve already done that. If we stop now … I’m afraid I won’t get started again.” Her jaw tightened, and the worry in her eyes almost cut me. “So if you’re asking me, I think we should keep going a little longer. We need to get as far as we can today, and stopping now won’t help anyone.”
Shadia worked her jaw a couple of times before she looked away. “OK. If you’re sure.”
“I am.” She didn’t move, and I knew she was considering to argue. It was an argument we’d had many times, and I usually listened to her. It wouldn’t be the first time I wasn’t thinking clearly because of adrenaline or because I was tired. But I couldn’t let her win this time. It wasn’t just about my health anymore. It was about her life. “But considering we’ve already stopped,” I said, and she looked at me, hope in her eyes, “I think you should go in.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. We only have your knife for a weapon, and while it works, it’s clear I need to be able to defend myself as well. My legs won’t always work,” I said, smiling.
She didn’t return my smile. “And where would I find a weapon in a hotel?”
I shrugged. “Fire axes? They might have those hanging around. Or butcher’s knives from the kitchen.”
Shadia looked up at the hotel with narrowed eyes. Finally, she looked around. The street was empty, even if the smell of rotten flesh clung to us.
“I’ll use the time to rest,” I said. “Just roll me into the shadows, and I’ll be fine.”
It took almost a minute before Shadia finally nodded. I kept from giving myself a high five for having convinced her and sat demurely as she rolled me into the shadows. She turned my chair, so I had my back to the wall and the stairs leading into the hotel on my other side. A modicum of protection. Then, she pulled the knife from its sheath and held it out to me.
“Nope,” I said. “You take it. What if someone’s holed up in that hotel and doesn’t want to share the space? Or the weapons?”
Shadia rolled her eyes. “You watch too many of those dystopian shows.” She grabbed my hand and wrapped it around the hilt. Before I could let go, she stepped back, leaving me with the knife. “If any of them come, you need that more than me.”
“There might be zombies in the hotel,” I argued.
“The hotels were closed down. No one would have died in there.”
“Why’re the doors broken, then?”
“Probably looters.”
“Exactly! And they might still be in there.”
Shadia glowered. I looked away, lowering my hand with the knife into my lap.
“Fine,” I grumbled, which actually made Shadia smile.
“Rest well. I’ll be right back.”
“Be careful!”
“Always am.”
She rounded the stairs and hurried up them. I heard her step on glass before silence. Even so, I strained to listen. How long would it take her to find axes? They were on every floor, right?
Forcing myself to relax, I drank the rest of my cola and leaned my head back against the wall. My chair had a higher back than most everyday wheelchairs because I needed the support and a slight tip to keep dizziness at bay, but there was nowhere to rest my head. It was the one thing I missed when I got tired, but having a higher back would make the chair even more unruly, and having a light chair that I could move around in was more important than somewhere to rest my head. Most times, I had a bed or sofa for that anyway.
Time ticked by, and I’d almost slipped back into a doze when a sound reached me. I rubbed my dry eyes and looked around. Hand still over one eye, I froze. Two figures were walking up the sidewalk, heading straight for me.
It took me a second to focus my tired eyes, and when I did, I almost wished I hadn’t. There was no doubt they were zombies. They had once been a man and a woman, and they were dressed in matching pajama-sets. The woman had one slipper on, her other foot naked and crusted in dried blood. Blood soake
d the front of their shirts and ran down from between their legs, making the fabric stick to their skin. Other than that, they looked almost alive. Really pale, but alive. They couldn’t have been dead long.
“Shadia?” I called. She must be close by, right? She’d been in there for a while, and it wouldn’t take that long to find axes. But only the zombies answered, seeming to increase their speed at the sound of my voice.
My hands trembling, I reached down to undo the brakes but thought better of it. In this corner, I was partly protected. If more of the zombies were coming from the other side, leaving the corner would place me right between them, exposed and surrounded. But what if these two came any closer? Should I try to avoid them?
The zombies didn’t give me a chance to decide. The man was a little faster than the woman, and he was almost speed-walking now. It looked weird, his legs dragging, and arms flapping like he didn’t know how to use them.
My hands found the knife in my lap, and I lifted it. “Stay back!” I called, feeling silly the moment the words left my mouth. The zombies wouldn’t understand me.
The man didn’t stop. Instead, he mimicked my motion and lifted his arms, reaching for me.
I slashed, and the knife bit into his palm. It was almost jerked from my hand by the change of momentum. The zombie only continued forward. I screamed as he reached for my face, sluggish blood oozing from his hand. My feet went up and I kicked him between the legs. He didn’t react, but the movement put him off balance, and he all but fell into my lap, head over the armrest.
Still screaming, I slammed the knife into his back again and again, but he continued moving.
A small part of my mind hollered to go for the head. The only way to kill a zombie was by ruining the head, after all, but my body wouldn’t listen.
As the woman reached us, I moved my knees up, pushing the man off me in the same motion. He stumbled back, leaving a trail of black blood as he went. Kicking out with one foot, I pushed him further away.
The woman walked right past him and bent, her mouth open and showing bloody teeth. I pushed the knife forward and it slipped into her open mouth and up past her throat. Her teeth scraped across my glove, but I hardly felt it.
