by Karen Carr
I walked swiftly over to the salon and treaded through the opening, cringing on broken glass. Immediately I was surprised by the multiple images of myself reflecting from all the mirrors lining the walls. Of course, it was a beauty salon, there would be mirrors but my brain wasn’t working that fast. Seeing my reflection, my short pixie cut which I had forgotten about, made me freeze and raise my gun, aiming at myself and again at my other self on the other side of the room.
“Hella, it’s you,” Stan whispered.
I lowered my gun and examined my reflection closer. My eyes, once sparkling blue and full of life, were cold and hollow and gray. My stance, once happy and free and bouncing on tiptoes, was now cautious and ready for anything—like a cheetah and its pray all wrapped up together. My skin, once pale with a dash of flush, was suntanned and glowing.
Stan had changed more dramatically. He had always been sophisticated and worldly and had an air of entitlement. Now he lacked confidence, his shoulders were stooped and his hair was greasy and unkempt. His eyes also reflected a deep loss, like the shell of Stan stood before me and something he cared about a great deal was missing and that something wasn’t me. Huck came out from behind the curtain in the rear of the salon, looking rugged and handsome and just like Huck.
He smiled at me and shook his head. “I lost him. Let’s go look for the others.”
I didn’t know Huck before the apocalypse. I didn’t know if he was funny, charismatic, or serious. I just knew who he was now and he looked more alive than both of us. His eyes were more brilliant and active. His body pulsed with an infectious life like he was in his natural element, it both scared and exited me.
Before we left the beauty salon, I grabbed a bag and filled it with supplies, shampoo, hairbrush, comb, scissors and hairpins and stuck it in my pack with all the other things I had collected, supplies, useful things, not things from the pockets of the dead. I then grabbed some sunblock and moisturizer and headed out the door, no sense in getting skin cancer in the time of no doctors.
“There he is,” Huck said, and took off running again.
The boy was running down the street. He had dusty blond hair and was wearing a ripped flannel shirt and blue jeans. Huck was faster than him and soon made a running lunge for his back and tackled the boy to the ground. Huck captured the stranger. Stan and I rushed forward, my feet and my legs feeling the pain of the swift movement. Huck was sitting on the boy and had his hand twisted behind his back.
“Ease up on him, Huck,” I said. The boy’s eyes widened as I kneeled down next to him. “He’s scared.”
Huck pulled the boy up and stood at the same time, keeping the boy’s arm twisted behind his back. The boy winced in Huck’s grip and moved his free hand to his face to dust off the rubble from the road.
“Let me go, I won’t run,” the boy said, and then wiped his mouth of more dirt. The corner of his lip was bleeding from scraping the ground.
“Where are they?” Huck asked, not letting the kid go.
“Who?” The boy struggled in Huck’s arms. “My name is Miles. I live here. I have always lived here. My family has lived here for generations and you are strangers. I could tell because you don’t know your way around.”
I took Huck’s arm and made him loosen his grip on the boy, but he wouldn’t let go completely. “You’re right, we don’t know our way around. I’ve been here a few times, I used to live over in Haverlyn Village, but I don’t know the area like you. We really need your help and we don’t mean you any harm. We’re looking for our friends. Have you seen anyone else who looks lost or scared or is running around like us?”
“Sure,” Miles said. “The African American woman who was with you—Zora? She was running around like a nut, screaming for her sister, Boa, bizarre name and I recognized it immediately. Boa was here, they arrived yesterday, but then she went looking for her sister, Zora I guess, and took one of the guys with her. They left last night. Some of your other friends are down at the roadhouse. They’re really nice.” Miles glared at Huck.
Huck released the boy from his grip. “Sorry. I didn’t want to let you go. You’re our only lead and you were running away from us. In a time of, you get it?”
The boy nodded. “Yea, I get it. I wasn’t running away. I was just running, you know? I always run. It’s the only way to keep safe out here. Running. Apology accepted.”
It looked like Huck was going to say something else, so I motioned for him to keep quiet. “Huck, the others are here. They’re alive. Who else?” I asked. “Was there an Asian woman?”
“Yea, sure,” the boy said. “Sure was. I can’t remember her name, but she and the guy who left with Boa were tight. I guess they didn’t find you guys. That’s too bad. I hope they come back soon, especially Boa—we hit it off right away. She’s my age, you know.”
“Lily and Trevan?” I asked.
“Yea, that’s it. Sounds about right.” Miles smiled. “Trevan. Yea, he’s the guy that went with Boa. Said he didn’t want the kid out there on her own, and Boa wouldn’t stay put. I’ll take you to the others, if you want. You all look dirty and hungry. We have the best cook here, Fareva, she can take care of you. I’ll bring you to Hipslow, he’s our mayor. He should be down at the roadhouse.”
“Can you take us there?” Huck asked.
As we marched down the street, Miles told us about how the apocalypse had wiped out most of the town. The town had been alerted to something strange happening when someone came down from Chapel Hill, so the old mayor, who was now dead, asked all the citizens to gather on the far east side of town in the industrial park. That’s when the wind began to pick up and the stench came wafting in and turned most everyone into zombies on the spot.
Those that had survived had not gone to the meeting, or were not affected by the outbreak and somehow avoided being eaten to death by the hungry mob. After that, the zombies wandered out of town, following each other down the road in their rambling ricocheting pattern that I had observed toward Chapel Hill.
The remaining people came out of hiding and blocked off the streets with vehicles to stop the zombies from wandering back in. At first there weren’t many survivors, but more and more people came up from Sanford and even as far south as Charlotte.
Miles said that dozens of people lived in the town, but they tried to make it look like no one survived. When Huck pressed for a reason, all Miles would say was that there had been trouble over the winter, someone was killed, and that Hipslow had taken over and made the new rules and everyone agreed that the town was safer than ever before.
We stopped in front of the Pittsboro Roadhouse and General Store housed in a relatively modern building, considering the rest of the town. The exterior walls were tinted glass, so it was impossible to see in and showed no sign of life. Flowered boxes rested on the sidewalk in front of the store.
At first glance it looked like they were empty, but a closer look revealed small sprouts coming up in all of them. I held my breath as we walked in the store, anticipating the reunion with Lily and the others, thankful that they were still alive.
I walked into the roadhouse and immediately noticed clean wooden floors and bright sunny windows, pastel colored bookshelves housing local crafts, glass display cases with handmade jewelry, and a mixture of semi-circle booths and square tables. The whole arrangement made me feel at once warm and welcome. What filled my heart to the brim with happiness was seeing the Professor and Zora sitting at one of the tables.
The Professor and Zora were talking to two men, one with a very long beard and short hair and about my brother’s age and one clean shaven and very long hair and about my father’s age. They were all enjoying some bread with olive oil and fresh fruit. I made my way over to their table as Zora stood up. Even though it had been a short time since we were last together, maybe not even an hour, it seemed like an eternity because I didn’t know if I would see her again. We hugged each other, her muscles were ridged and her heart was racing.
“Boa was h
ere,” Zora said in a halting voice. “She’s alive, Hella. She made it here. They went looking for me, for us, last night. Trevan and Boa. They’re together and Lily.”
I pressed my palm to Zora’s heart. “I know,” I said. “Miles told us.” Miles gave Zora a little wave.
“Miles,” Zora greeted him. “You want to help me find Boa?”
Before Miles could answer, the older man cleared his throat. My guess was that he was Hipslow, the man Miles said was the new mayor.
“We’ll help you with your rescue squad,” the older man said. He tilted his head back and relaxed it in his hands, exuding a sense of calm control. “Why don’t you first come sit with us and tell us your story.”
“Do we have time?” I asked Zora.
“You have time,” the man answered.
“It’s ok, Hella. We have a few minutes. They’re going to help us.” Zora sat down again, trying to look relaxed but she shuffled her feet and tapped her fingers and played with her scarf, giving her anxiety away.
An older woman entered behind the bar and greeted us with a wave and a smile. She was wearing a multicolored maxi dress, and a scarf of red and silver and gold fabric was draped around her head and cascaded down her shoulders making her look regal.
“Fareva, here, can fix you some fried green tomatoes and fresh chicken tenders.” He gestured to the woman, who then disappeared into the kitchen. “Now let’s do some introductions. I’m Hipslow Jack, and this here is my son Broder.” Hipslow patted his son on the back. The son nodded and smiled, but didn’t say anything. “He doesn’t say much, but he’s got a good heart. Go and back and help your mama now, why don’t you?”
Broder got up and offered me his chair before he went back to the kitchen. He was a large man with big arms, but he wasn’t fit and trim, more round like he once had been in shape and had let his body go, not like Zeke. His loose fitting clothes made him look even bigger than he was, like he had already lost a lot of weight. My mind trailed back to Zeke and I realized he wasn’t with us.
“Where’s Zeke?” I asked. “Zeke,” I repeated like an idiot. In all the newness and surprises, I had forgotten about Zeke. He was last seen with the Professor, but the Professor hadn’t mentioned him. “Professor?”
Huck and the Professor both looked around like they were surprised Zeke wasn’t there.
“I don’t know. He was with me. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him in a while. I was alone when Miles found me.” The Professor held his head to look around.
“You all catch up, I’m going to go find him,” Huck said. “Stan, I could use your help.”
“Sure,” Stan said.
Stan and Huck ran out of the roadhouse without a second glance back, leaving me with an empty feeling in my stomach, the same feeling I had when parted from Zora.
Stan and I sat at the table with Zora and the Professor. To distract myself from feelings of loss, I picked up a brochure for music and speed dating, and a shag dance on the Friday before Halloween, pre apocalypse. Bring your Plenty, it said. Thinking of dancing and dating and all the fun had in this place before the apocalypse made me feel worse, so I pushed the brochure under the Professor’s plate.
“Hella, the food here is excellent,” the Professor said. “We really should stay a while after we round up the others.”
I smirked. The last thing I wanted to do was stay in another community, to build it up so that it could be torn down again. I didn’t want to live anywhere again until I had it all straightened out.
“We’ve got things to do, Professor,” I said. I helped myself to some grapes, fresh juicy grapes, and wondered where they grew them. Greenhouses?
The Professor wiped his mouth and put his napkin on his plate. “Yes, well if that’s so, if we’re going to leave soon, I’d like to take a rest in that bed you promised me, Hipslow.”
Hipslow patted the Professor on the shoulder. “Miles, take this old man with you back to Rosemary’s and why don’t you go out and fetch the Reverend and the rest to be reunited with these good folks.”
“Sure thing Hipslow,” Miles said. “Come on, Professor. I’ll show you your bunk. You think the food is great here, wait until you see your bed.”
The Professor stood up and had Miles help him to the door. The poor professor looked like he had aged a hundred years since yesterday. He probably needed to rest a hundred more years to feel normal again, like we all did. My mind drifted to the others, the Reverend. Did Hipslow and Miles know that the Reverend’s wife was a zero? I hated to be the one to tell the Reverend that his wife was dead.
“Fareva wants you to have this,” a voice from behind me said, a voice I recognized immediately.
I turned around and saw Lily standing there holding a fruit tart. I knew she was alive and in Pittsboro from Miles telling us, but seeing her made reality made my flesh tingle with happiness. Lily and I had become best friends after the apocalypse and I didn’t want to lose her, not ever. I knew I could count on her for anything and everything and trust her with my secrets.
“Lily!” I screeched.
Lily put the tart down in front of me as everyone from the table stood up to greet her, even Hipslow.
“Hella, I’ve missed you,” Lily said. “And I love your hair.” She touched my cropped hair. “Who cut it for you?”
“Oh, girl,” Zora said, wrapping her arms around Lily. Lily grabbed me and pulled me into their embrace and the three of us hugged for what seemed like an eternity. Lily’s jet black hair smelled of apples and her olive skin held the scent of peppermint. She looked at once beautiful and serene and safe.
“We heard about Trevan.” I said when the hugging subsided.
“He went back for you,” she said. Lily’s eyes were puffy and red, like she had been crying earlier.
“He didn’t find us,” I said.
“Obviously,” Lily said, her expression turning sour.
“How’s Boa?” Zora asked. “Is she hurt? She’s not much for adventure. Why’d she go?”
“She loves you, that’s why she went,” Lily said. “She’s going to be fine, Zora. They’re not going to do anything stupid. Trevan’s too paranoid to get in trouble.” Lily laughed, unintentionally sounding like she didn’t believe her own words.
CHAPTER 7
Zora, Lily and I were alone with Hipslow Jack. Whether or not we were in good hands remained to be seen, but I trusted Hipslow. He had a calmness around him that reassured me. Pittsboro was a hippie town, not much bad happened here, only peace loving, music loving, hippies and artists and Hipslow looked just like one of them.
“Now tell me what you got down here?” Hipslow asked.
I looked at him sideways, not quite understanding what he meant. He had an earring of a dove in his left earlobe that matched the ring on his finger.
“How’d you get here? How did you survive?” Hipslow took a bite of the fruit tart, one of which we each had now. I had already devoured half of mine, blueberries and blackberries and raspberries on top of a merengue, it was so delicious.
“It’s a long story,” I said. I wanted to be polite to Hipslow, but more I wanted to understand where Trevan went and what happened to them during the brief time we had been separated. He had only been gone from Pittsboro for a few hours, and I had seen him the day before, but it still seemed like a million years ago and a million bad things could have happened to him in a few short hours.
“I get it,” Hipslow said when I didn’t continue my story. “Let me get with Broder in the kitchen to find out about that chicken and I’ll let the three of you catch up.” He swallowed the rest of his tart, got up and left us alone.
Once we were alone, Lily told us their story. The Reverend and his wife Shelly with the children, Mikey and Harper all ran back to the monster truck with Boa, Lily and Trevan. The Fake military that had attacked Haverlyn Village, the Beefcake and Sargent Enroy, were busy fighting the zeroes—the ones that turned into zeroes after I bit them, the ones that wouldn’t die with my v
irus.
Boa made them wait for us in the truck for an hour before Trevan wigged out and started it up. She pleaded with him to wait longer, but he couldn’t handle it anymore. He said we were most likely dead or captured. It never occurred to any of them that we were flying away in a helicopter. So, Trevan took off and drove south down the 15/501 as fast as the truck would take them.
Zora and I told Lily how we escaped in the Hind. We had a good laugh about that because apparently seeing the Hind is what triggered Trevan to freak out and drive like a crazy man. They were able to get down to Pittsboro, to the traffic circle, in no time at all. When Trevan tried to get past all the barriers set up around the traffic circle, he drove over a spike strip which popped all the monster truck’s tires.
Lily tucked her hair behind her ear and leaned in toward us. “You have to watch it here, they have booby traps all over the place. They’re the nicest people, but they’re also very protective of their turf.”
“You think it’s safe?” I asked in a whisper.
“Sure,” Lily said. “I think they’re just scared. Something happened over the winter. Nobody talks about it. Someone was killed. Hella, it’s great here though. They don’t have solar, but they make things work. They have no running water, but the first thing they did for us is heat buckets of it up so that we would be able to take warm baths. They have worked out systems for everything. It’s very unique here.”
“I’m sure it’s great here, Lily, but I want to rescue my sister. Where, when and how did she go?”
“I want to rescue Trevan, too, Zora. You don’t have to use that tone with me. You found time to cut Hella’s hair, you can find time to sit with us for a while. Hipslow’s not going to like it if we just run off and we’re going to need his help.”
“Lily, we understand,” I said. “This isn’t the time to quarrel, Zora is just upset. Tell us every detail, when did Trevan leave.”
‘Yea, I’m upset,” Zora said. “And for the record, making people look good helps me relax and it only took a few minutes. That mop of a mess on top of Hella’s head was a breeding ground for lice.”
