by David Rogers
“So the kids or the old guys, or the girls for that matter; none of them have anyone who might come looking and get frisky enough to start clearing the town out when they see how overrun it is?” Austin asked.
“No.” Byron said, shaking his head. “No way. Everyone in here is more or less the brave and the bold from their little pieces of the apocalypse. I’m actually amazed you and Jessica even got dragged into this.”
“It’s my fault.” Austin said, glancing at Jessica. “I thought it was worth a look to see why you’d vanished.” She just shrugged, unwilling to revisit the arguments where he’d convinced her to try to help.
“Well I won’t say I’m not happy for the help, but if you put me against the wall, I’d still say I wish you weren’t caught up in it. This is pretty crazy.”
“You said you’ve got some ways to get out of here.” Carlo said, hitching himself up. He tended to recline back on his elbows, but now he rose to a full sitting position with a wince and focused on Austin. “What do you mean by that?”
“What happened to your leg?” Austin asked, rather than answering the question.
“Sliced it up on a window when we tried to break contact with the packs that were closing in on us.” he said with a shrug. “I know, I know, but we were in a hurry.”
“How bad?”
“Gonna be a wicked scar, and I can’t run right now; but if push comes to shove I can hop and hobble along okay.”
“Sorry.” Austin said.
“I’m healing. Anyway, about getting out of here?”
“Well, for starters, the building’s just concrete block. We can break through that, even if we had to repurpose some of the materials in here. But I’ve got this.” Austin said, patting the fire axe at his side. “A sledgehammer would be better, but we can bash through one of the walls and create an opening.”
“It’s concrete. How’s the axe going to get through?”
“Concrete isn’t steel. If we beat on it long enough, we can get through.”
“How long will that take?”
“Less than half an hour, even if we go at it with pieces of the shelves and whatever. Less if we focus on one spot and everyone who can swing a blow takes regular turns.”
“My husband was a fireman.” Jessica said, remembering some of what Brett had told her; when she’d ask him the standard ‘how was your day’ questions.
“Wait, your husband?” Milo asked.
“Yes.” Jessica said shortly. One of the little ‘rules’ that seemed to have formed in the wake of the end of the world was a pretty simple one; don’t talk about who people had lost. Not unless they brought it up. Because everyone had lost people, most of them people they’d been close to.
“I thought—oh.” he said, glancing from her to Austin, then down in embarrassment.
“Anyway,” Jessica said briskly, “Austin’s right. With some tools and time, it’s just concrete. Firemen trained to break through it in case they needed to.”
“Exactly.” Austin said, and his voice was as level as hers was. “Further, if it comes to it, we can shoot a doorway through. If we want to burn the ammo and be really quick about it.”
“You can’t shoot—” Milo started to say, clearly eager to embrace how the conversation was moving past his lapse, but Jessica interrupted.
“That’s TV.” she said firmly. “The pistols, no. Not fast anyway. But rifles will punch through the wall.” She’d been educated on that by Austin as part of her post-apocalypse learning. And he’d demonstrated on one of their scavenging runs. Big bullets going fast, especially rifle rounds that were often wrapped in metal jackets, did not bounce off walls. Even concrete. Or even cars for that matter; at least their doors and bodywork. The engine could stop rounds, but even there some of the components under the hood were less resistant to a bullet than others.
“I’d rather break through by hand, but it’s an option if we need to.” Austin said. “I’ve only got so much ammo, and it would probably take a couple of mags to open up a hole big enough that we didn’t have to crawl through.”
“If you say so.” Nate said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“It would work. Anyway, that’s the walls. We could also try and build some sort of pile or hill or even a scaffold out of the shelves, to get up to the ceiling or the top windows. The stairs in the back room have been wrecked, probably to keep us from getting up there, so it might be helpful if we could.”
“What does getting on the roof get us?” Arcelia asked. “For that matter, how?”
“There’s probably a door or hatch or something else already up there somewhere, so maintenance guys could have gotten up to work on the air conditioners or whatever. But even if there isn’t, we could probably come up with a way to get through. Time and effort again.” he said, adding the last when Arcelia and Carlo looked dubious. “Remember, we’re prisoners, but we’re not being watched. It’s not like we have to be sneaky while we work.”
“If there are guys on the other roofs, and they’re armed … ” Byron said, clearly thinking as he spoke.
“Yeah, that’s my worry. We’d be able to take the other buildings under fire, but I doubt they won’t be shooting back at us.”
“Great, get shot or get eaten.” Nate groaned.
“We’re not there yet.” Austin assured him. “This is just planning, thinking.”
“Anything else?”
“Other than the front door, or the windows, that’s pretty much it. Anything else is really just some variation on those.”
“So, zombies and armed guards.”
“The zombies are manageable—” Austin started to say, only to be interrupted by both Carlo and Milo.
“Manageable?”
“There’s like a thousand of them.”
“They’re just zombies.” Austin said firmly. “Dangerous, but slow. And stupid. We could come up with any number of distractions to control them.”
“Like how?”
“Pull them to one side of the building, and leave the other way, stuff like that.”
“We’ve thought about it. Even tried a couple of times.” Byron said. “The guys on the roofs are just as interesting to the zombies as we are. And not only are they keeping us in, they’re keeping the zombies here too.”
“So the roof guys are the big problem.” Jessica said.
“That’s how I see it.” Austin said. “Everything else is doable. They’re the real wild card, the joker that can guarantee some of us start dying when we decide to stop being prisoners. Even if we create an opening in the horde somewhere, and rush out, they’ve got high ground. Unless they’re all complete idiots and are actually just really missing when they’ve shot at you, we’re going to take some hits. And bullets hurt.”
“I’ve already taken everyone’s pulse.” Byron said. “I mean, I’ve had the time. Everyone’s pissed, some more than others, about being stuck in here, and they want out, but as long as there’s food and whatever waiting seems to be the safe choice.”
Jessica opened her mouth, then closed it. She wanted out. She really wanted out. But she couldn’t argue with what Byron was saying, even if he was just regurgitating the others and didn’t agree with it. Which he actually probably did, since he’d had a week and hadn’t made a bold move yet.
“Maybe, maybe, if we’re just patient, if we keep waiting, they’ll get tired of this and leave?” she said hopefully.
“That’s more or less the long-term thinking.” Byron said.
Austin frowned. “That might be, but to me, whatever they’re thinking, whatever’s in their heads, it’d be really, I mean really, insane for them to just be doing this to, what, pass the time? Because it’s funny or something?”
“It’s not funny.” Arcelia said.
“Right.”
“So what’s your point?” Nate asked.
“What’s their plan?”
“To keep us here.”
“Right, now.” Austin said. “To
keep us here now, and I guess add anyone else who wanders by that they can trap. But why? What’s the endgame?”
“You’re the soldier, you tell us.” Carlo said.
“No, she’s the smart one.” Austin said, gesturing at Jessica. “I just shoot things.”
“He’s exaggerating.” Jessica said.
“No I’m not. You also shoot things too.”
“Okay, again, bigger problem to worry about.” Byron said, though he was smiling. “How are we supposed to figure out what’s going on then?”
Austin looked at Jessica, and she had to shrug helplessly. “I have no idea.” she said.
Chapter Nine — Choices
“Alright, let me have it.”
Jessica looked away from her rummaging in her pack, as she tried to extract her poncho without dislodging everything else already in there. Meeting her gaze, Austin just gave her receptive and patient eyes. He was sitting cross-legged, hands on his knees, facing her and making no moves to start unpacking anything for the night. The room was dim, lit only by a few trickles of moonlight that had penetrated through the windows at the tops of the walls.
“What?” she asked when he didn’t elaborate further.
“If I’d listened to you, if I hadn’t talked you into this, we wouldn’t be here, and Candice wouldn’t be alone.”
“Austin.” Jessica said with a sigh, shifting around on her knees to sit properly on her bottom. The two of them had retreated away from the others in the building, picking out a spot against one of the walls that was about as close as they could get to having any sort of privacy. They weren’t the only ones; all the little groups had spread out into their own sections as night fell.
“Come on, vent.”
“I can’t. I’m not going to.”
“You’ll feel better.”
“I’ll feel better when we’re out of here and back with Candice.” Jessica said.
“There we go. Come on, I can take it.”
“This isn’t funny.” she said, unable to suppress her anxious irritation as it bubbled up under his probing.
“I’m not laughing.” he insisted. “Am I?”
“Well, no.” she admitted. He wasn’t throwing any of the little things at her, non-verbal or otherwise, that she’d come to expect from him when he was keeping things light. Or teasing her.
“I’m sorry I got you into this.”
“It’s … well, it’s not okay.” she said, changing her mind in mid-sentence. “But it’s not your fault.”
“Not even a little?”
“Stop.”
“I’m not laughing, I’m dead serious. You have to admit this whole thing was my idea—”
“It was Milo’s idea.”
“But I’m the one that went along with it. And talked you into coming.”
“There was no way I was letting you come out this far with just Milo to help.”
“He’s got potential.”
“He’s a … a … he’s green Austin. He doesn’t get any of this, of how things are now. It’s all new and scary and strange, and if nothing else it keeps him distracted as he goggles at everything.”
“Which is why I talked you into coming, so I’d have a partner.”
“You know, you’re right. This is your fault.” she said, trying to make it a joke.
“I know.” he said, and the first crack abruptly appeared in his calm façade. Regret and pain was flickering to life on his face, beginning to peer out at her. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Jessica said, sliding closer to him and putting her hand on his. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve got nothing to apologize about. Not to me, not for this.”
“We chose to come out here. All I had to do was say no.”
“You almost did.” he said, turning his hand over to grasp hers, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently. “Maybe you should’ve.”
Jessica was silent for a moment, then nodded. “I almost did. But we’re here, and we’re not in trouble yet. We’ll figure this out. You’re the one that helped show me how circling around in my head playing the blame game is bad.”
“I did that?”
“Yes.” she said softly, lifting his hand and touching his knuckles to her cheek. “Sometimes I think about how things could’ve gone, if you’d left with the others back at Dennis’ house. Or if you’d just gotten me down to Knoxville and dropped me off in the room and stayed busy with the incredible list of shit Tyler was piling up on you. Or if you’d stayed when I started leaving. Or any of about a thousand other times you could’ve just … just left.”
“I keep telling you, there’s nowhere else I want to be.”
“I know. One of the things I love about you is how you make me better. Not how you’re strong or dangerous or resourceful, but how you help me figure things out.”
“If you’d taken some other turn, somewhere along the way, you’d still be fine.” Austin said. “I’ve told you that. You’re a fighter, a survivor. It’s one of the reasons I love you. It’s not because you kick ass or have learned how to be dangerous, or how you’ve turned into a Little House on the Prairie frontier woman—”
“Stop.”
He shook his head. “Those are great things, and I love them about you. But it’s why you do them, all of it, that I really love. If you couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn, with the shotgun no less, I’d still love you. Because even after ten misses, you’d keep shooting. You just don’t give up.”
“I’m not ready to die.” she whispered. “Not for me, but for Candice. I have to … she still needs me. She needs someone. How many kids, just kids without someone with them, have we seen since all this started?”
“None.” he said, pain in his voice.
“Even the ones who didn’t … you know.” she said, catching herself just as thoughts of the ravenous creatures her oldest son and daughter had turned into started bubbling up in her head. “Even the rest,” she said hurriedly, trying to cover her emotional lapse, “it’s just too much to ask for any kid. Look at Milo, he’s a grown man, probably did alright in his life before all this started. And he’s only here because someone like Byron came by and saved him.”
“Or you.”
“I wouldn’t have saved Milo. I was busy with Candice.” Jessica said quietly.
“Luck again. Lucky for Candice she’s got you. Lucky for Milo he ran into Byron.”
“I’m her mother.”
“You told me about that woman you ran into on the way out of Ocala. And, come to think of it, I remember something you said about Atlanta, before your mom … anyway.” Austin said, shrugging and flashing apology with his eyes. “They were moms too, but they might as well been strangers for all the good they were doing their kids as things got worse.”
“Candice needs me. Needs us.” Jessica repeated. “So we’re, not you and not me, but us, we’re, going to get out of this and get back to her. And, since you started it, I’ll tell you this is the last time we’ll be out here doing something this insane.”
“I’m sorry.” he said again.
“Don’t be sorry. Just help me figure out how to get back to her.”
“I will. I am. But …”
She waited, but he stayed silent, and finally she had to speak. “But what?”
“Jessica, I’ve been turning this over in my head all afternoon. Even if we play the long game, we might be forced into acting anyway. There’s only so much food here, the water could run out; anything. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow or a month from now, whatever. At some point, we’re going to be acting, be pushing out of here.”
“I know.” she said, suppressing a shiver at the thought of being trapped in here for a month.
“And it’s going to be dangerous.” he said, sounding desperately unhappy. She blinked; she’d never heard that note from him before. Not when he’d been bleeding and unable to walk without help, or pushing himself to stay with her with holes ripped through him.
Not even when they’d been trapped in Ocala.
“They’re just zombies.” she said quickly.
“They are, but we both know how ‘just zombies’ turn into ‘oh shit’ the more there are.”
“We’ll get through this.”
“That’s just it. The zombies, yeah. The guys on the roofs … I can’t come up with anything that I’m comfortable with.” he said, shaking his head. “Every scenario I run through my head, they still have the advantage. We don’t know how many of them there are, what they’ve got, why they’re doing this; and that means anything we try could be hitting a brick wall when we go for it.”
“We’ll just have to be patient.” she said gently.
“I can be patient.” he said.
“I know.” she said in a soothing tone. “You’re the most patient man, person, I’ve ever known.”
“But sooner or later we’re up against it, and it’ll be down to luck. There’s only so much luck we’ve got left. Even us.”
“They might leave. They might just leave, and we’ll be down to only the zombies. And we can figure that out.”
“If they don’t, or if they’re really crazy …”
“Like how.” she asked, unable to deflect the flash of alarm that surged through her.
“I don’t know. Maybe they just want to watch a horde eat a whole bunch of people. Or they’re trying to collect a captive workforce. Or—”
“Let’s just give it some time.” she interrupted. “We’ve got time, however much I wish we could just be over and done with this, and back home. But rushing isn’t the right move, not as long as we can be careful and think things through.”
“I’m worried about what happens after the thinking.”
Jessica was growing concerned. It wasn’t like him to ramble. “We’ll handle it. You keep telling me I’m smart, and I know you’re so capable it’s scary; and together we’ll get through this. And we’re not alone, we’ve got fourteen, no fifteen — Milo — other people in here who want the same thing we do.”
“They just want to get out.” Austin said.
“Exactly—”
“I just want to get you out.”
“Austin!” Jessica said, lowering her voice further still. Then she scooted closer still, pressing herself up against him. She refused to glance around to see if anyone else was listening to their conversation though. “You told me it wasn’t a good idea for us to use the soda stoves, because we’d be the only ones eating hot food.”
