by A. R. Wise
Laura and Billy faced off in silence, or at least Annie couldn’t hear them anymore as the Rollers around them carried on conversations of their own. Kim’s death had rattled everyone, but Annie’s defiant stance against Jerald’s helicopters had brought the camp back into focus. The fight wasn’t over yet, and survival required all of them to do their jobs, including Annie as she stood watch over them.
She saw Zack stir to consciousness again and was thankful he’d survived. Her mother would need him.
Annie was resolute in her duty. She was the guardian, their only lookout, standing high above the others to ensure their safety. Never in her life had she felt more assured of her place. Her sorrow over Kim’s death was ever present, but she forced herself to put it out of her mind as she scanned the smoke filled sky.
She found a full magazine on the ground, beneath the splintered wood that had once supported the steeple’s roof. She put the magazine in and put a bullet in the chamber as she stood sentry.
The horde outside their walls had no interest in them, and the other Rollers continued to pick them off one by one, but Annie saved her bullets for any of Jerald’s men that dared appear. She almost wished they would.
The steeple groaned as the shattered posts around her started to give way. They had been shredded by the chain guns, and the pointed roof threatened to fall in. There was a short fall from the steeple to the church’s arched roof, and Annie realized that she would have to jump soon.
The floor shifted and Annie slid to the side. It startled her, and didn’t make sense until she looked back and saw that the fallen bell had damaged the floor as well. It wasn’t just the roof of the steeple that was in danger of collapsing; the entire thing was about to crash down.
A zombie screeched nearby, but one of the Rollers shot it dead in the middle of its cry. Louder even than the living dead were the roaring flames that encroached upon the city from the field. It had spanned the highway gap and touched upon the buildings at the east end of town, bringing new fuel to the flames. Now the inferno was licking at the sky from a new, higher vantage, dazzlingly bright and bringing heat even from a hundred yards away. When a westward wind blew, it carried ash and embers, spreading the destruction and lighting new fires. It was a wicked backdrop to the sudden fear that Annie experienced as the floor beneath her began to give way.
She strapped the rifle to her shoulder and started to climb over the edge of the steeple, but her added weight on the sill caused it to buckle. The wood cracked and Annie felt her stomach rise as she fell. Her feet hit the roof below, but she was unable to stop herself before falling to her back. She caught sight of the entire steeple leaning toward her, and then her feet were in the air in front of her face as her head smashed into the roof in mid tumult. She scrambled to claw at the curved shingles, but they pulled away from the roof as if only needing the slightest provocation to schluff off.
There was a myriad of noise, all of which catalogued in Annie’s mind as time slowed to a crawl. Every sting of pain was felt, every vision of the spinning world was considered, and the facts of her tumble were understood as she fell down the roof. The Rollers below screamed, and Annie could discern most of their voices as she haphazardly flailed her arms in an attempt to save herself before she reached the edge. The steeple smashed into the roof, sending the useless shingles spinning into the air, and Annie suddenly understood she was going to die.
The roof sped out from under her and the sensation of falling took precedence over all other fear. Annie focused on the ground below - on the corpse of Dante, punctured by the same iron posts that she was now falling towards.
Chapter Three – Last Breath
Thirteen years after the apocalypse
Annie, Arthur, and Kim were sent to meet with local traders.
“What’s wrong with her?” asked one of the traders that they were drinking with.
Arthur and Kim had brought Annie along to a trader caravan that was passing through the area. The Rollers preferred to do most of their trading with the local settlements, but it was always worth investigating the caravans to see what they had to offer.
It was an overcast, blustery winter day and Annie was anxious to return to camp. Kim and Arthur, however, wanted to spend time together away from the other Rollers. It was no secret that the two of them were in a relationship, but Billy had assigned Hero to be Kim’s partner in the field, which meant she rarely had time alone with Arthur. They cherished the rare moments together, away from Laura and Zachary’s ever-watchful eyes.
The traders, a ragged group of men with curly beards and dirt caked cheeks, were huddled around a campfire. They held their grubby, calloused hands over the flames as they stared at Annie. She was standing several yards from the fire, her arms crossed as she shivered.
“She’s just being grumpy.” Kim was beside the fire, cuddled next to Arthur. He had his arm around her shoulder and looked at Annie sympathetically. Kim glanced back and rolled her eyes when she said, “She wanted to head back to camp earlier.”
“If we don’t leave soon we’re going to get caught in the storm,” said Annie.
“Give it a break,” said Kim. “Come sit down and relax.”
“Come on, Annie,” said Arthur with a kinder tone. He pat the ground next to him and waved her over. “Have some whiskey with us.”
Annie’s mother had asked her to go with Kim and Arthur to stop this from happening. There was a rumor going through the area that a strain of the disease that created the Greys had begun infecting fetuses. A woman in the town of Hanger had been murdered from the inside out by her own unborn child, adding credence to the mysterious, mutated virus. Kim insisted that she wasn’t having sex with Arthur, but no one was naïve enough to believe it. When Kim and Arthur decided to head out to visit the trader caravan, Laura told Annie to go with to keep an eye on them.
“It’s going to snow.” Annie looked up at the grey sky. “We should head back before it starts.”
“Do you know how rare good whiskey is these days?” asked one of the traders. He was a burly man named Jack, whose eye had been cut out by a raider, a story he apparently loved to tell. The left side of his face bore the scar that claimed his eye, a purple wound that stretched from his brow to his chin, carved deep into his dirty skin.
“And we got dog meat,” said a tall, old black man that had a plastic cooler beside him. He had a gravelly voice that was hard to understand, but was entertaining to listen to. Throughout their visit he had told them various stories about the caravan’s exploits, and each tale came with a bevy of exaggerated hand movements that was impossible not to be entertained by. “And it ain’t no wild dog neither. No sir, no sir.” He pushed Arthur’s shoulder and made a slurping sound through some of his missing teeth. “We got regular farmed dog. Not gamey at all. And with my sauce on it, boy oh boy, let me tell you, it’s as tasty as anything you’re ever likely to put in your mouth. I make the best sauce. You like spicy sauce?”
“Sure.” Arthur smiled as the trader regaled him.
“I’ll tell you a story,” said the old man as he fished through his cooler and produced a glass bottle filled with a red liquid, speckled with black spices. “I had a friend back in the day, big guy named Tuna – not really sure how he got that name. But anyhow, Tuna loved my sauce. One time he was slurping up some barbeque, sweat pouring off his head, all hunched over and eating like this,” he lurched and pretended to be scooping up food and shoving it in his mouth. “And he wiped some sweat off his forehead.” He mimed the action and then looked at Arthur with wide eyes. “But he went and wiped some of my sauce on his head. Well, sure as shit, old Tuna ended up beating himself to death with his own tongue trying to lick that sauce off his forehead.” The comical old man licked furiously at his upper lip and then started to laugh as loud as his raspy voice would allow.
Arthur and Kim laughed as well, and even Annie couldn’t help but smirk. One of the other traders sitting at the fire rolled his eyes and sighed. “Good lord,
Mac, how many times are you going to tell that joke?”
“Till it stops being funny,” said Mac, still laughing. “I’ll give you guys some of my sauce to try, but don’t go getting yourself none of the Tuna Tongue!” He started to lick at his upper lip again.
A snowflake fell in front of Annie and any entertainment she was getting from the old man suddenly ceased. “Come on, Kim, we need to go. It’s snowing.”
The group looked up and saw the flakes speckling the grey clouds on the horizon, drifting slowly down. “Annie’s right,” said Arthur as he got up. “We should head back.”
“What about my sauce? You want my sauce, don’t ya?” asked Mac.
“I’d love to try some, but we’ve got to get back to camp before the weather turns,” said Arthur.
“That’s a shame,” said Mac.
“Maybe next time,” said Kim.
Everyone stood up from the fire and walked to where Arthur had parked the car, near the bottom of the plateau that overlooked the highway. This was one of the many trader posts in the area, where the caravans would set up shop for a few days.
There were several other traders milling about the camp, and they all seemed a bit too interested in the group that was leaving. Annie was nervous as they made their way down the hill, though she didn’t know why.
“Oh no,” said Jack as they reached Arthur’s sedan. “Looks like you must’ve driven over something that popped your tires.” The front two wheels of the car were deflated and Arthur rushed over to inspect them.
“Son of a bitch,” said Arthur. “We’ve just got one spare.”
“Let me guess,” said Kim, a disenchanted frown on her face. “You guys just happen to sell tires.”
Jack sneered. “Not sure I appreciate your tone, baby girl.”
“I’m not sure I appreciate being fucked like this,” said Kim.
“Hold on, everyone,” said Arthur. “No need to get nasty. Like it or not, we’re going to need a tire to get back.”
“I’m sure we could find a tire that would fit,” said Jack, proud of himself.
“You pieces of shit,” said Annie.
The snow was coming down faster, threatening to become a blizzard at any moment. Mac smiled at Annie and rubbed his balding head. “I like you red haired girls. Got all sorts of fire in ya. My girlfriend’s got red hair like yours, and a big mouth too!” He chuckled and looked around the group, but no one reciprocated.
“You want a tire or not?” asked Jack.
“We brought guns to trade with,” said Arthur.
“We’ve got lots of guns,” said Jack.
“What about bullets?” asked Annie. “I’d be happy to give you mine, one by one.”
Mac whistled and shook his head. “Listen to this one! What did I tell you? I like them fiery red heads.”
“I’m sure we could get a little creative with what you’ve got to trade,” said Jack as he lecherously eyed Kim up and down.
Arthur’s calm demeanor disappeared. “Watch your mouth, pal. I’ll rip your balls off and shove them up your friend’s ass before I let you touch either of these girls.”
“All right, all right,” said Jack. “Calm the fuck down. I’ll get you a fresh spare for all your pistols.”
“That’s crazy,” said Arthur. “One gun for one tire.”
“Listen, kid,” said Jack. “You don’t have the upper hand in this trade.”
“Bullshit,” said Arthur. “We can walk back to camp if we have to.”
“And find a car on the way to jack too,” said Kim. “Come on, Artie, let’s get out of here.”
“How you going to carry all the guns you brought to trade?” asked Jack. “You planning on leaving them here for us? That’s mighty nice of you. I’ll get myself a trunk full of guns without even having to trade a tire for them.” He chuckled and elbowed his friend.
“How about this deal,” Mac kept his eyes on Annie. “Three guns for one tire, but it’s going to take us a while to find one that fits. We got some pup tents you girls can sleep in tonight.”
“We can’t stay overnight,” said Kim. “We’ve got to get back to camp.”
“Hopefully you don’t have to,” said Jack. “But despite what you think, we didn’t pop your tires to try and steal a trade from you. We’re going to have to search around for a tire that fits your car here.”
“Wonderful,” said Annie. “Mom’s going to fucking kill us.”
Jack went to look for a tire while Mac took Annie, Arthur, and Kim to where the traders camped. There was a fenced area where several tents had been set up. During the day, the traders spent their time in the back of their trucks, but most of them slept in tents at night, preferring the safety of the fenced area in case of a Grey attack. Most trader caravans didn’t have enough vehicles to create a circled barrier the way the Rollers did, so they fortified campsites at each of the trader posts along the highway where they normally stopped.
This fenced area had once protected a water tower, but the towering structure was now rusted, its paint mostly peeled, giving it the appearance of a massive, rotted orange looming above. The tents were scattered around the paved area, with the largest ones enjoying the shelter beneath the water tower. Mac led them to a group of smaller tents near the fence, away from the tower’s umbrella.
The snow got worse as the day wore on, and soon it became apparent that even if Jack found a tire, they would still be mired here, at least until the snow let up. Arthur kept offering to help search for a tire, but Mac insisted that they make themselves comfortable. The tents were too small to accommodate more than two people, so Arthur stayed in one while Annie and her sister slept separately. Eventually, they gave up hope of leaving that night, and resigned themselves to being lectured by Laura and Billy in the morning.
Annie was angry as she settled in for the night beneath a bear skin.
“Hey, Annie,” whispered Kim.
“What?” Annie made no attempt to hide her frustration.
“I’m going to sleep in Arthur’s tent.”
Annie threw off her cover and sat up. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“Don’t be a bitch.”
“Fuck you. This is just what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Kim.
“You were looking for any excuse at all to have to stay here overnight. You’re probably the one that popped the tires.”
“Oh shut up,” said Kim. “You know that’s not true.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed. You know what they’re saying about the virus now. They say it can infect a fetus, without the mother even knowing it. You’re going to end up getting yourself killed because you can’t keep your legs closed. You’re going to end up getting pregnant and then...”
“No I’m not.”
“How do you know? Is Arthur sterile or something?”
Kim was embarrassed and clearly didn’t want to have this conversation with her little sister. “There are ways to keep from… Look, Annie, we’re not doing anything bad. Okay? For crying out loud, Arthur and I haven’t even had sex. We’ve done other stuff, but not… For fuck’s sake, Annie, you know what you need? A boyfriend. Then maybe you’d give me a break.”
“Mom is going to flip her shit.”
“Are you seriously going to tell on me?” asked Kim. “You’re not that petty, are you?”
“Why do you think they made me come with you?” asked Annie. “Everyone’s freaked out about what happened in Hanger. Mom wanted me to come along to try and keep your legs shut.”
“You and mom are such bitches sometimes. You know that? I’m eighteen. I’m a fucking adult, Annie. It’s ridiculous how she treats me. When she was my age she was practically married already.”
“Whatever.” Annie laid down and pulled the cover back over her. “Just get out. I don’t feel like fighting anymore.”
“Are you going to rat on me to mom?”
Annie didn’t answer.
“No,” said Annie. “Just go.”
Kim didn’t say anything else as she unzipped the tent flap and went out. She paused outside of the tent, seemingly ready to say something to her sister, but then zipped the flap closed and left.
Annie tried to go to sleep, but she was too uncomfortable and annoyed. She hated it when Kim talked about how she needed a boyfriend. Kim and Annie fought frequently, as sisters often do, but Annie’s solitude was a topic that Kim knew was a sensitive one. Annie had no romantic interests, and felt increasingly ostracized by the others for it.
She heard the tent’s zipper raise and sat up, expecting to see Kim. “What’s wrong? Isn’t Arthur horny tonight?”
It wasn’t Kim. Annie yelped when she saw Mac’s face. The shock of seeing him stole her breath away.
“I don’t know about Arthur,” said Mac. “But I know I am.”
He smiled and waved his pistol at Annie.
* * *
August 24th, 20 years after the apocalypse
Annie has fallen from the steeple as the Rollers watched.
Annie collided with Dante’s corpse, her shoulder striking the spike that protruded from him. She wasn’t sure if it punctured her, but the pain was enormous and the force sent her body spinning. The next thing she felt was the ground strike the side of her foot, and then her leg as she collapsed to the sidewalk. Her head bounced off the pavement and the darkness was suddenly enlivened by a flash of pure white light.
The steeple was still collapsing, and the wood snapped as the structure tore across the shingles. Annie heard a woman scream and she looked up in time to see the first few planks of wood fall. Then the weather vane that adorned the top of the steeple slid off the roof as the shingles rained down with it. Annie assumed that the vane had snapped free, but soon saw the rest of the steeple’s roof falling with it. She put her arms over her head and closed her eyes, fully aware that there wouldn’t be time to move.
