by Hunt, Jack
“Ralphie,” The faint sound of a girl’s scream cut into the noise.
Ralphie looked back, his eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “There she is.”
Isaac was standing outside the house. With the floodlight on we could see him clearly. He had a knife up to her throat. The siren turned off.
“I told you what I would do if you ran again.”
Ralphie’s eyes bulged in his head. Then, without missing a beat Isaac sliced the girl from ear to ear, blood gushed, and she dropped to his feet.
“NO!” Ralphie screamed. Isaac licked his hand that was covered in blood.
I grabbed a hold of Ralphie, but he pulled back. “Get off.”
Before I had time to think he’d grabbed the assault rifle from me and began firing wildly at the house.
“Johnny. Let’s go.” Dax was a short distance from the barn. A trail of fire was making its way towards it. I turned back and grabbed Ralphie with both hands yanking him back. He was resisting but I think he knew that there was little we could do now. There were far more of them than us. The light in the second farmhouse went on and men were pouring out with weapons.
“Move it.” I pushed him forward. My legs and chest were killing me. We jumped over the line of fire that was snaking its way to the barn. Bullets were snapping as we returned fire all the while running into the darkness of the night, hoping that it would offer cover.
As we were rushing down the hill, we saw more Z’s coming out of the tree line. A few of the fast ones took some of their people down. Now their fight was with the dead.
A pair of lights flashed on. We heard the rumble of the engine. The others had found the truck. It was stationed just at the edge of the road, idling. The door swung open, the interior light inside illuminated Jess and the rest. Right then behind us was a mighty explosion. An inferno raged and a fireball flew up into the air. It was followed by an even bigger one. I looked back for a second and saw those attempting to put out the fire were being overrun by Z’s coming out of the forest.
We hopped the fence and dived into the truck. The back wheels spun wildly in the mud as Izzy gunned it out of there. It was only when we were a short distance down the street that our stomachs sank.
“Did you get the weapons?” Dax asked.
“No. We checked inside,” Specs replied. “They were gone.”
“Great, so all we have is two handguns, two assault rifles, and minimal ammo.”
“We still have a dildo!” Baja said, lifting it in the air like the sword of King Arthur.
“Oh my god,” I shook my head in disbelief.
“Where’s Caitlin?” Dax shouted.
Izzy slammed the brakes on. I jumped out followed by Baja and Specs.
“Caitlin! Caitlin.” One by one we shouted at the top of our voices into the darkness.
“I’m here.” We spun around. I breathed a sigh of relief. She had dived into the back of the truck. And there was me thinking she had lost all sense of reality. She was tuned into what was going on probably more than we were. I helped her out and we hopped back into the truck. The reflection of fire in our side mirrors flickered as we peeled out of the town that would no doubt haunt us for a long time.
GRAFFITI CITY
It had been two days since we had lost Millie. Caitlin had been silent the whole time until she spoke those words. She was in an almost comatose state. Staring out of the window, I followed her gaze, wondering what she was seeing. Beyond the glass was nothing except a desolate horizon of fire and smoke.
It was just after dawn when we arrived in the city. We passed signs for the airport. It had taken us the better part of eight days from Castle Rock to Salt Lake City. A hellish drive that I wouldn’t care to repeat. We had abandoned the truck three miles from the city limits because there was no way of getting in. It almost appeared as if someone had purposely blocked off the highway. Three semi-trailers from the back of trucks were positioned sideways, smaller cars were jammed beneath. We were low on ammo and supplies. All of us were hopeful that we would find what we needed in the city.
It was strange to see the concrete jungle so quiet. Dax and I had only ever once visited Salt Lake City when I was around the age of eight. It was a stark contrast to the way I remembered it. Steel and concrete towered over us, bordered by the Great Salt Lake and the snow-capped peaks of the Wasatch Mountain Range. Built back in 1847 by the Mormons, it had grown into a diverse city. Boasting of some of the best ski resorts in the United States.
We had no idea what we were walking into, only that we needed to locate where the radio message was being broadcast. I guess we expected to find military on scene, as there were two military bases in Utah. Hill Air Force Base, thirty miles away, and Fort Douglas which was three miles from the city. But we saw no military personnel.
“Seems a little too quiet,” Specs said as we trudged our way in. Ralphie hadn’t spoken a word since his sister’s death. There was no way to cherry-coat it. By the time this would be over we were all certain we would lose more.
“Just keep your wits about you,” I said.
Sheets of paper blew across the streets like tumbleweed. Signs of the military making one last stand could be seen as we passed a burnt-out helicopter among an ocean of Humvees, tanks, barricades, and machine guns emptied of bullets. Everywhere we turned windows had been blown out or cracked. The walls were plastered in graffiti. Red, blue, green, and purple. It was if someone had gone crazy with a spray can.
I stared up at the dark windows. A sense that someone was watching was prevalent. It wasn’t the death and destruction that was all around that bothered me, as much as it was the bodies hanging from lampposts like piñatas. Most of them were military; others were dressed in business attire. Every street had them. We must have counted at least forty. In other areas there were heads that had been decapitated and shoved down on top of parking meters like popsicles. Someone was definitely sending out a clear message. But who would do this?
Food was the only thing racing through our minds. After the little we had scavenged from the town of the rising idiots, we were ready to stock back up. Baja was grumbling about his gut, and I could have used something decent to eat. In the city there was far more choice than we could ever hope to find. Though most of the stores and restaurants that weren’t already looted had metal security shutters pulled down. Jess spotted a sign for City Creek Center but it would have taken us hours to get there by foot. We saw a small, partially enclosed market square. The first store was a whole food place and the only one that didn’t look overrun with Z’s. Though we figured some of those creepy bastards would be inside.
“Shit, can’t we go in that kebab shop?” Baja asked.
“After what we just went through, I don’t want to see another piece of cooked meat,” Izzy replied.
“You are aware that just because they sell whole foods, they do sell lean meats,” Specs added.
Izzy just rolled her eyes. Like most of the stores the windows had been smashed in as people either tried to escape or break in. We would have pulled our knives but we didn’t have any. The plan was simple. Baja, Ralphie, and Specs would take on any Z’s lingering outside while Jess, Izzy, and Caitlin went in. They would then follow after them. Dax and I were going to see if we could find anything in the next store called Wilderness Outfitters. It sold hunting, fishing, and camping gear. The first order of business was to get some camping stoves, after that it was anything that could be used as a weapon. We watched as the girls stepped over broken glass and waded their way through the window display.
“You guys good?” Dax asked.
“We got this.”
“Remember, don’t start firing unless you have to. Keep an eye on the girls,” I told Specs.
“Um, I think we can handle ourselves,” Izzy muttered.
Dax and I had nothing to use for weapons. We crouched low and slid underneath a partially closed rolling shutter. It was dark inside. We had taken one of the flashlights off the one assault ri
fle. Dax swept the light across the tops of the merchandise. I stamped my foot on the ground and we waited to see if anything showed up. Nothing. We pressed in further.
“We need more light in here. Go roll up the shutters just a little,” he ordered.
As I moved back towards the shutters I heard something whip past my head. It was an arrow. It embedded itself in the wall. My heartbeat started racing.
“Don’t you dare lift that,” a voice came from the darkness.
I spun around scanning the area. “Who are you? Show yourself.”
“What are you doing in my store?”
Dax looked at me and motioned for me to go one way while he went the other.
We lowered ourselves down until the darkness enveloped us. On the floor I looked beneath the stands of goods trying to see if I could spot anyone. It was too dark.
“We just need a few supplies then we’ll be on our way.”
“You got money?” the gruff voice asked.
“Are you serious?” Dax replied.
“You want something, you pay for it.”
“Have you had your head under a rock? Society has collapsed. There is no monetary system,” I said.
“There is in my world,” the voice replied. I was the closest to the voice. I still couldn’t see him; all I could do was slowly move forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of our mystery man.
“It’s over. The world has to gone to shits,” I said.
“Maybe. But I still own this place.”
I crept closer. I could hear his voice coming from just over the counter where the register was. I was down on my hands and knees and crawling along being ever so careful to not make any noise. I was just closing in on the counter when I felt something sharp, cold, and hard pressed against my temple.
“That’s right. Slowly does it.”
I rose to my feet, flashing a sideways glance to get a better look at who this was. In the darkness I could make out what he was holding to my head. It was an archery bow.
“You can come out as well. I know you are over there.”
The silhouette of Dax’s head popped up a few feet away.
“Listen, we don’t want any trouble. We are just out of supplies. We had our own weapons but they were taken from us.”
“Too bad. Let me guess, you haven’t eaten in a while either.”
“No,” I replied.
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“Well, other than the fact we have no weapons,” I said.
“That’s not what I saw.”
I hesitated before I replied, “Oh you mean our friends?”
“That’s who they are?”
“Yeah, they are searching for food from next door.”
“Really?” he replied. I caught an edge to his voice.
There was a long pause.
“You don’t own that place too, do you?”
He nodded.
“Shit,” I replied.
Then as quickly as he had placed the arrow against my head he removed it.
“Go tell your friends to come on inside.”
I cast a glance at Dax.
“Well, go on,” he said.
Dax backed up slowly.
I heard the sound of metal turning, then a light came on. It was a hand-crank flashlight. The light illuminated his face. He looked Hispanic but it was hard to tell in the dim light. Possibly in his early thirties? He wore black tactical gear, everything was black.
“Where have you come from?” he asked.
“Castle Rock.”
He snorted. “That’s quite a distance. Why are you here?”
“We heard a signal being broadcast. There is meant to be some safe zones. Do you know anything about that?”
“Nope.”
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Benjamin. Benjamin Garcia.”
“I’m Johnny.”
Behind me the others came traipsing in. I turned to see Dax carrying Caitlin. He was hurrying.
“What happened?” I yelled.
“She’s been bit.”
SWAT
“Bring her through here,” Benjamin said. He led us around the back of the store and behind a makeshift fake wall that he had set up in front of some stairs. At the top of the stairwell he led us into a room that was completely blacked out.
“Place her here.”
He swept his hand across a large table. Cutlery, plates, and cups fell on the floor. Among them was a map.
“Over in the corner are some lights, you’ll need to crank them to get them going.”
A few minutes passed. It was easier to see him now. I turned my attention to Caitlin who had a huge chunk taken out of her forearm. The bone was exposed and flesh was dangling down like a stuck-out tongue. She was out cold.
“We’re going to need to amputate it,” Benjamin said, grabbing up some towels.
“We can save her?” Jess asked.
He glanced at her. “There’s no guarantee.”
“So the virus hasn’t entered her bloodstream?”
He laughed.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“You don’t need to get bit to have the virus. You already have it.”
“What?”
“That’s why the dead are walking. I don’t know the logistics of it. But if you die, you become one of them. Surely you must have seen that by now?”
I frowned. “I don’t get it?”
Caitlin gasped, her eyelids fluttered. Izzy came close and began to hold her head.
“Where am I?” There was fear in her eyes and voice.
“Listen, I’m not a doctor. All I know is that if you die, you turn. If you get bit, you will turn eventually. Maybe scratches and bites speed up the process of transformation. If we cut the arm now, she has a fifty-fifty chance of survival.”
“No,” she stammered. “I don’t want you to cut it.”
“It’s okay, Caitlin. He’s trying to help,” Izzy added.
“No, you don’t understand. I just want to die.”
“But we could save you,” Jess said, coming close to her and gripping her hand.
She was breathing hard, trying to find words. “I just want to be with my sister. I can’t take this anymore. I’ve lost everyone.”
We looked at each other, unsure of what to do or say.
Listening to her talk about her family reminded me of my own. In many ways I was glad my mother didn’t live long enough to see all this happen. I was grateful that the connection to my father was shallow. If a person was to survive in this new world, they couldn’t hold tightly to those around them. Or was that the key to survival?
I knew one day I might lose Dax. What then? Would I fall to pieces? Would I be unable to find the will to live? Was it even worth living? There were so many questions, and few answers that satisfied. After what we had witnessed on our way to the city, there had been a few brief moments when I was tempted to put a gun to my own head and end it. After all the atrocities we had seen, and those we were yet to see. Was the quality of life worth fighting for?
Jess looked to us for an answer. As if somehow we could convince Caitlin that life was worth living. The truth was, all of us had been stripped of hope. We had seen more horrors in the past week than we had in all the years we had been alive. Images of death, depravity, and pain filled every crevice of our minds.
“Caitlin, is this really what you want?” I asked. She nodded, affirmatively.
Jess grabbed hold of me and dragged me to one side.
“Are you really going to give up on her?”
“Jess, it’s not for us to decide. It’s her life.”
“That’s bullshit. Would you let me go?”
I stared blankly at her. “No.”
“Then convince her not to do this.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that easy.”
“Yes it is. You make a choice for another person. You think about them instead of yourself.”
“What?
You don’t think I want her to survive?”
She studied my face before walking away.
“How long before I turn?” Caitlin asked.
“Hard to tell. With Matt it took about a day. Though it might be different from person to person,” I said.
“Come on, Caitlin, don’t do this,” Specs said.
“It’s what I want.”
Specs kicked a small trash can across the room and stormed out. I nodded to Baja to go keep an eye on him. Caitlin coughed a few times. Her face was pale, and she was beginning to sweat.
Benjamin walked over to the blacked-out window. It was covered in thick black paint. A small portion had been scratched away letting in a laser-tight beam of daylight. He leaned against the wall and stared out.
Without looking at us he spoke, “You can stay here the night. One of you will need to…”
“We know,” Dax replied.
Over the following several hours we sat in moderate silence. There were few words exchanged, as it seemed no one knew what to say. We hadn’t got to know Caitlin very well. What I knew of her were tidbits of information from our time in school together. But those days were long behind us. It wasn’t just the fact that she wanted to die that made each of us feel low. It was the fact that we had gone to all the trouble to rescue her and her sister only to see them die. It was like a kick to the gut. If we couldn’t save people, what was the point in trying? And yet something inside of us, a small quiet voice that tries to guide our lives, seemed to show us what was the right thing to do, even if we couldn’t control the final outcome.
And that was the truth. None of us could ever control what would happen today or tomorrow. We couldn’t make someone want to live. It had to be their choice. What would we gain if we forced her to live only to watch her die later? If she wanted out, she would find it.
Suicide in an apocalypse was easy, and for some even more justified.
I could almost sense that we knew there had to be rules. Something to keep us from stepping over the line. In a world with no government or laws, it would be easy to make others do what we thought was right. But who was to say what was beneficial now?
