Empire Of Salt

by Weston Ochse

  He opened the toilet. A small circle of sludge greeted him in the bottom of the bowl. He held his hand over the water with every intention of flushing it away, but instead of letting go of the crystal, his hand closed protectively around it.

  He couldn't help but laugh.

  Who was in charge here? Was it him? Or was it the meth?

  He tried again with the same result.

  Fuck it. The meth made him sharp and helped him think in tough situations. When they got out of here he'd find a way to make it up to Natasha. Until then, she'd have to understand. Yeah. She'd just have to understand.

  Metzger poured the crystal onto the cheap Formica counter. Using the butt of his pistol, he crushed it into a fine powder. Without ceremony, he leaned down and snorted the whole shebang. When there was nothing left but residue, he licked his finger, wiped it, then wiped his finger across his gums.

  The rush was immediate and all powerful. He was superman. He could not be defeated. He could not lose. He'd save them all. He'd be a hero. He'd get the girl and live happily ever after.

  He yanked open the door and stepped into the hall.

  Veronica was waiting for him, her eyes glowing yellow. A low growl came from her throat.

  "Aw fuck," he said.

  Then she attacked and shoved him into the bathroom.

  The door slammed shut behind them, and they fell into the bathtub, the shower curtain entangling them. Her teeth tried to find him, but he was somehow able to wrap her face with the curtain. He punched her three times, hard, but it had no effect.

  He scrambled over the side of the tub, grabbed the vanity to help him get to his feet, and jerked the door open. He leaped into the hall and closed it behind him. It opened inwards, so he held onto the handle as tightly as he could.

  Natasha approached him.

  "What are you doing?"

  He glanced from her to the door and back. Wasn't it obvious?

  Veronica began to pound on the door.

  "Who is that? Is it Veronica? Let her out!"

  Metzger shook his head. "Zombie," he breathed.

  Natasha raised her hand to her mouth in shock. Then she glanced down the hall at her brother, who was sitting at the table getting his arm bandaged by Auntie Lin.

  "What do we do?" she asked.

  "Gotta kill her," he said.

  "But..." Although the idea revolted her, he could see the understanding in her eyes. "Oh."

  "Grab the door knob."

  When she did, he pulled free his pistol, checked the magazine, then stepped to the side and aimed for the door.

  "On the count of three, push it open."

  Natasha nodded.

  "One. Two. Three!"

  Veronica stood framed in the doorway. Her hair was wild, her eyes yellow, her skin a sickly green. She growled low in her throat.

  Metzger fired three times, catching her in the head and face.

  Veronica fell to the ground unmoving.

  Natasha backed against the wall, while Metzger pushed the dead girl farther into the bathroom with his booted foot, and closed the door.

  Derrick and Auntie Lin met him at the end of the wall in the kitchen.

  "What happened" Derrick asked.

  "Veronica. Zombie. Killed her." Metzger glared at everyone, challenging them to ask him more, but he'd given enough information.

  He went to the front door to see if there was any hope at all. There had to be a way out. There was always a way out. He'd had a sergeant in Iraq who said the only failure of idea was a failure of imagination, and right now Metzger's imagination was a Technicolor dreamcoat of ideas.

  The trailer was on the side of the seawall and elevated from the sea, perpendicular to the shoreline. Visualizing the outside, Metzger remembered that the front was supported by iron pylons that had been cranked to level the floor.

  He peered out the window. More zombies were coming ashore. Would they never stop? How many were there? How many soldiers suffering from PTSD had Hopkins arranged to be a part of the program? Metzger made a mental promise that when he got out of here, he was going to blow the secret wide open to the national media. Many of those soldiers had been his friends. They'd all been brothers in arms. Regardless of the connection, they were all fellow humans and it just wasn't right. But that would have to wait until they escaped. Right now he had to figure out a way to do just that.

  An image flashed through his mind of Noah's Ark, and the beginning of an idea was born.

  "What are you doing?" Natasha asked tightly.

  "Saving you."

  "How can you just go back to this after killing Veronica?"

  "I didn't kill Veronica. She was dead the moment she was bit."

  "Like my brother."

  "I didn't say anything about that."

  "Are you going to kill him too?"

  He rounded on her. "Do you really want to have this conversation right now? What did you think was going to happen? Did you think we were all going to walk out of this unscathed? This is war and in war people die. That's it. Period. End of fucking story."

  She glared at him. "So are you?" she persisted.

  A thousand responses went through his mind, but he bit every one of them back. Instead he said, "I think I'll leave that up to you."

  She glared at him for a long moment, then went to the table where Derrick was being ministered to by Auntie Lin. Metzger stared at her for a moment, then turned away. Like he said, this was war. He didn't have time for kid stuff like boyfriend and girlfriend. Someone had to save them, and since he seemed to be the only super-fueled hero around, it looked like that was him.

  He searched beneath the cupboards in the kitchen until he found a toolbox and rifled through it until he found what he was looking for - a crow bar in the toolbox, which he used to peel back the cheap carpet. Beneath was old, rotting plywood. He dug at it, stripping away the wood until he'd made a hole big enough to fit his head into.

  He shifted position and stuck his head through the hole. Sure enough, the brackets supporting the axels were mounted on concrete bases. He craned his head to see what condition the trailer's wheels were in. They were good all around - relatively new and apparently inflated.

  Metzger jerked his head back up and directed everyone to help move all the salt bags from the other rooms towards the front of the trailer. The idea was to put as much weight in the front as possible. It took several minutes, but soon there were so many bags of salt in the living room that the entire floor was covered up to a level of four feet.

  "Now what, idea man?" Natasha asked.

  "Now we rock it."

  The look of confusion on her face was replaced with understanding as he leaped atop the bags, put his hands on the ceiling, and began to throw his weight forward and back like he was standing on a swing and trying to get it to move.

  Before long even Auntie Lin was on top of the salt bags, doing the same. It took a minute or to get coordinated so that they rocked in time with each other, but eventually they heard the metal of the trailer begin to creak. They doubled their efforts, slinging their bodies forward and backward in unison.

  Metzger felt the support brackets begin to teeter and urged the others on. Then the front end suddenly jerked out and the support brackets lost purchase. The front of the trailer fell with a bone-jarring crash that shook everything, the front door flew open as the trailer frame bent, windows exploded outwards, and Metzger and the others lost their footing and rolled on the floor.

  The trailer began to roll on its wheels - slowly at first, then faster and faster.

  Zombies ran alongside the trailer as best they could, trying to keep up. Their ravenous faces were fixated on them. Some stumbled, falling to the ground, tripping others as they fell, but there were still enough to make leaping from the door worse than suicide.

  Suddenly one reached inside and grabbed Auntie Lin's left leg. She kicked savagely, knocking the zombie away.

  "Hold on!" Derrick shouted. "We're going to hit!"


  The front end of the trailer plowed into the water in a great plume and everyone was hurled forward into the front wall. Metal scraped and screamed along the ground, then suddenly everything went smooth as the caravan started to float.

  Metzger climbed a little unsteadily from where he'd ended up on the floor and jumped over the salt bags to the door. With a hand on each side of the jamb he leaned out. They were about a dozen feet from shore and moving farther out.

  "Metzger!" Natasha yelled. "We're sinking."

  He glared at the water that was already to his ankles. He directed the survivors to grab their stuff and follow him into the back bedroom where he'd seen the hatch to the roof. It was a moment's work with the pry bar to open the hole large enough for him to get through and then they were on the roof.

  The momentum of the trailer had carried them out to sea far enough so that even the most rapacious zombie couldn't reach them.

  They'd passed the end of the dock by a dozen feet. Instead of being stranded in town on the roof of an earthbound trailer, they were now on an aluminum island that was inexorably sinking. Bubbles shot free as water ate more of the inside.

  The only blessing in the whole damned mess was that the rain had finally stopped. Perhaps Tropical Storm Hiawatha had ended.

  Off to the east the sky was beginning to lighten.

  Their long night was almost over.

  Auntie Lin and Derrick huddled together in the middle of the trailer. She continued to adjust the boy's bandage, concern and fear etched across her face. Metzger stood at one end searching the water for any sign of help. Natasha stood at the other. But no matter where any of them stood or sat, their situation appeared hopeless.

  Natasha couldn't believe what had happened to her the last few days. It seemed like just yesterday that they'd been traversing the country in the rolling avocado, looking forward to a life of fun and sun. It was laughable if it wasn't so damn tragic. Fun and sun from an inland salty sea with no access to the real ocean wasn't any fun at all. Rotting fish weren't fun. Dying birds weren't fun. The town filled with lost, miserable people wasn't fun. And the zombies, may they all rot in Hell, had now taken everything she had away from her and they were no fun.

  Glancing over her shoulder at Derrick, she knew that soon, very soon, he'd join the ranks of friends and family who'd been turned into zombies and would probably have to be put down. She'd willingly change places with her brother if she thought it would do any good.

  It was all just so fucking hopeless.

  But then a fishing boat drifted out of the gloom. Its bow was high so she couldn't see who was driving. The sound of the outboard engine rolled over the top of the water.

  Soon it was evident that the boat was headed towards them.

  "Is that really a boat?" Derrick asked.

  "Yes. It is." Natasha squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

  The pitch of the boat's engine dropped, then ground to a baritone hum before it cut off. The boat bobbed in the water, turning so the driver could see them and they could see him. It was Lu Shu, the fisherman. He grinned broadly at them. "I wasn't sure you'd be here," he called. "So I waited out there."

  "We weren't sure either," Metzger said. "But we made it... mostly."

  The fisherman's expression grew pained, and he rattled off a string of Chinese.

  "What was that?" Natasha asked.

  "'One day, a thousand autumns,'" said Auntie Lin. "He means so much has happened."

  "Is this all you have?" Lu Shu asked.

  "We're it. Thanks for coming. I wasn't sure if... well, you know."

  Lu Shu nodded. "Those beasts are inventive. No telling what they might think of if you give them the chance, which is why I waited where it's deepest."

  "Look!" Derrick pointed. One eye was completely closed. The other was red with blood. "They're going back in the water. They're leaving."

  All eyes turned to the shore and witnessed zombie after zombie headed toward the water. The water moved up their bodies, covered their mouths, noses, and eyes, then finally their heads as they disappeared beneath the waves.

  Natasha wondered if they were really going back.

  "Hold on," Metzger said suddenly. He looked around worriedly. "How deep is it here?"

  Lu Shu and shrugged. "About seven or eight feet. It's -"Realizing why Metzger was worried, he reached around and frantically pulled the starter cord on the motor, but it wouldn't catch.

  "What's wrong?" Natasha asked. "Where are you going? Don't leave us!"

  Metzger jerked out his pistol and aimed towards the water around the trailer. "It's resting on the bottom, isn't it?" He cursed and stomped the length of the trailer. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! No wonder we aren't sinking anymore."

  Then the truth of it caught up with Natasha. She spun and searched the water. The zombies weren't returning to the depths after all. What had they been thinking? They were coming for them!

  Finally the boat's engine coughed and roared to life. It seemed fine for a moment and Lu Shu put his hand on the rudder. But before he could do anything else, the engine gurgled as if it was bogged down by seaweed.

  "You aren't leaving us," Metzger commanded. He changed the aim of his pistol to Lu Shu. "If you leave without us, I swear to God I will shoot you dead."

  Lu Shu stared at Metzger, trying to get the measure of the man. The boat was spinning around slowly and now faced out to sea, which brought the engine into view of everyone on the trailer. They couldn't see the blades of the outboard, but there was no mistaking the spreading yellow petrol slick on the water.

  The engine coughed again, then died.

  Lu Shu cursed and struggled to pull the engine out of the water. A decaying hand broke the surface of the water and latched onto the motor, and a zombie hauled itself up the metal contraption. Its scalp had rotted away in places, showing pieces of its skull. Here and there wet wisps of hair lay lank and dirty against its head. Its other arm came up missing a hand, severed by the engine's blades.

  Lu Shu didn't panic. He just kept pulling on the starter cord, frowning intently at the engine.

  The zombie climbed higher until it straddled the engine, sitting on the axle that held the blades.

  Suddenly the engine caught and roared to life.

  The zombie shook like it had been struck by lightning as the whirling blades dug into its backside and bore into its midsection.

  Lu Shu grabbed an oar and used it to shove the zombie off the motor. The zombie hit the water just as Lu Shu lost his balance and the boat beneath him roared away. The man splashed furiously, kicking and screaming, but was jerked beneath the surface so suddenly it was like he had never been there at all.

  Natasha stared at the boat roaring into the distance and all hope she'd managed to resurrect returned to the grave from which it had come. Now they had no chance.

  As if to emphasize this, Lu Shu's hand floated to the surface. It bobbed for a moment, everyone's eyes riveted on the appendage, and was snatched back under.

  The sound of running feet drew their attention to the shore. Dozens of zombies were charging from the sand to the dock, each running at a dead sprint. When they reached the end of the dock they jumped towards them. Although it was an impossible distance, each leap sent Natasha's heart galloping. The desperation the zombies were showing was horrific. As soon as they hit the water, they sank. And although she couldn't see them, she knew they were there beneath the water.

  A rotting hand reached and grabbed the edge of the roof. Auntie Lin leaned over and began to poke it with her umbrella, but it did little good.

  Metzger waited beside the old woman, and when the zombie rose out of the water, Salton Sea water pouring from its broken teeth, he shot it in the head. The bullet slammed it back into the water and it rolled on its side and sank.

  Derrick pointed. "Look at the boat!"

  It was coming around again.

  They had only one chance left. Metzger handed Natasha the pistol and removed his vest and his armor, then
hurriedly untied his boots and jerked them off.

  The boat was closer now, and so were the zombies. She could see them moving beneath the water as dark shadows. She held the pistol in front of her with both hands and waited for one of the zombies to latch on to the trailer. One did; she fired and missed, three times. Its glowing eyes mocked her before the fourth shot caused the back of its head to explode in a shower of yellow ichor. The zombie fell back into the water and sunk from sight.

  She didn't know how many more bullets she had, but they wouldn't last much longer at this rate. She shot a quick glance at her brother and finally understood what he'd told her a few weeks ago, when he'd been playing a computer game and she'd asked him how he was doing. His reply had been to itemize his ammunition.

  It was all about the ammo, in both games and reality.

  Only in reality there was no restart button.

  The boat seemed determined to miss them. Metzger had cleared a path so that he could run the length of the trailer and jump for it. But just like the zombies jumping from the end of the dock to get to the trailer, his jump seemed impossible.

  Still, as the driverless boat came back round, Metzger took a running leap, screaming obscenities all the while as if they were fuel for his flight.

  He seemed to hang in the air for a long time, long enough for Natasha to be certain he was going to make it... then change her mind and be certain that he wasn't.

  He hit the side of the boat at the rear hard, winding herself. He tried to grab the gunwale, but his hands slipped.

  Natasha's hands flew to her face. If he wasn't able to grab it, he'd feel the bite of the engine blades, or worse, the bite of the zombies waiting beneath the water. Her heart was caught in her throat as she silently urged him into the boat, and somehow he managed to pull himself in. He rolled from sight as the boat roared away.

  Derrick, Natasha and Auntie Lin watched it go, their smiles of hope fading as they saw no sign of Metzger. Finally, he pulled himself to a sitting position, gripped the rudder, and turned the boat around. He throttled down the engine, and the bow slapped gently on the water as it approached. Metzger grinned at them and waved tiredly.