Tales of the Apocalypse: A Dystopian Anthology
Page 8
That fucker was why we were stuck. I didn’t have anywhere to go, but Chris did. His parents lived west of us. It would have been a hell of a walk, but we’d hoped to happen upon a vehicle or two once we got further from town. Hell, maybe even a horse or two.
But that asshole’s selfishness and incompetence got Chris injured. Then he had the nerve to run back to the house without Chris. Just left Chris on the fucking street, unable to walk. What kind of person did that shit? A fucking dead man, that’s who.
Mike wouldn’t let me kill him, though. Said we couldn’t devolve into animals or some shit. I’d become an animal a long fucking time ago. Still, I’d just stormed out, found Chris, and hauled his ass back home. It was probably a good thing they were leaving because I knew if Blake stayed, he would be out there with Jason before too much longer.
“All right, well, good luck. Maybe we’ll meet up again someday,” Blake offered as a weak parting remark and threw on a backpack full of supplies I found.
“Fuck off, Blake,” I growled, needing him to leave.
Blake backed out of the living room, but I didn’t hear the front door open. Corey patted my shoulder but didn’t say anything before going to slap Mike on the back.
“Hey, Corey,” I called out. When he paused and turned towards me, I jerked my chin towards the front door and said, “Be careful. Watch yourself.”
He nodded as his lips became tight. Corey was all right, but his folks were in the same direction. He’d figured leaving with Blake would be better than going alone, but I wasn’t convinced. I stared straight ahead until I heard the click of the door and the succession of locks being flipped by Mike.
After they left, I helped Chris hobble over to his makeshift bathroom and then back to the couch. The lanky bastard was heavier than he looked. All of the utilities had gone out, and with it growing dark, we had nothing to do except sleep.
We did have a few flashlights, but we tried to reserve the batteries as much as possible. But, as I hefted the heavy Maglite and knelt by the couch, I flicked it on anyway.
“Gimme your foot, asshole,” I told Chris.
“Should’ve done this in the light, dipshit,” he retorted, but he pushed himself up and swung his leg around. “Fucking Blake.”
“Yeah. Fucking Blake,” I murmured as I studied the side of his calf.
It didn’t look good. Red streaks were beginning to make a ladder-like pattern from his swollen ankle to just below his knee, following the line of the deep gash inflicted by remnants of the previous explosion. I hesitated, wanting to delay what I already knew, before placing my hand on the back of his calf.
I paused, trying to weigh what I needed to say, but Chris wasn’t having it. Footsteps grew louder behind me as Mike came to investigate, but the sound was covered by Chris’s sigh.
“I’m fucked, huh? And I didn’t even get a goodbye kiss,” he said before chuckling weakly.
“Nah, man. You’re fine. Quit being such a Tara.” I tried to sound firm, though it came out all wrong.
He was right. He was fucked if we didn’t find some antibiotics for him. His skin burned, and even though he tried to cover it up, I saw him shivering. Infection had set in, and it was a bad one.
“That’s a low blow. You said you wouldn’t mention her again,” he said, shaking his head so hard his blond curls slapped against his face.
“Hey, you were the one that dated the human version of a spider monkey.”
Mike cleared his throat behind me, and when I clicked off the light, he spoke. “I think we need to find you some meds. Chris, why don’t you get some sleep, and Soren and I will try to decide on a plan.”
I nodded and waited until I heard Mike back off before standing.
“Sure,” Chris said. “You know if you two want some alone time, you just have to say so. No need for excuses.”
“Go to sleep, dipshit.” After whacking him lightly, I jumped back and laughed when I heard him curse. “Gotta be faster.”
I hunted down Mike. That was harder than you might think in the dark, but I finally found him in the kitchen. The moon was full, and that lent a little light, enough that I could see him sitting at the table with an old, stained map spread out before him.
“We’ve got to get him some antibiotics or he’s going to be dead soon. That shit looks bad. At least it’s not stinking yet. I’m thinking we can try some of these stores on the other side of town. Maybe it’s not as bad over there, and it’s on the way.” Mike finally stopped talking, but he still didn’t look at me.
Instead, he leaned even closer to the map, so close that his nose nearly touched the surface. His short brown hair looked spiky like he’d been running his hands through it over and over.
“I’m not leaving him here. And I don’t think he’s going to be able to march all the way to your parents. Hell, I don’t even think he’ll make it off the fucking porch.” My fingers curled in as I talked, and rage began to stoke the fire inside. Suggesting that we leave Chris was fucked up.
“We’re not leaving him. We’re not going home, either. Last time I talked to my dad, he told me about this bunker he worked on for some rich, paranoid asshole. We just have to get out of town, and then go a little bit longer.”
“He can’t walk that far, and you know it.” I jerked the chair out and dropped into it.
I wanted to punch him in the face, but Mike always had some crazy ass plan. Everyone thought I was the bad influence. Shit, they didn’t know Mike. Thing was, I usually got caught. That’s why they thought that. All of the bad shit we did with Mike at the helm went unnoticed by anyone. Devious bastard.
“I know. I’ve got that handled. We just need to find these pharmacies. Hell, even herbal shops would be fine. The sooner we get to them, the better.”
We stayed up, him pouring over the map while I found an old phone book and read off the addresses of the shops he wanted. When we had enough to satisfy him, I tossed everything we could use into backpacks while he left to do whatever his crazy mind had cooked up.
Chris
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked as I stood on one leg like a fucking penguin. Wait, no, flamingo. I’d become a fucking one-legged, pink flamingo.
“Get in the wagon, asshole,” Soren ground out and pointed.
“It’s not going to hold me,” I whined, sticking out my bottom lip in an overexaggerated pout. When Soren didn’t change his face, I turned to that asshole, Mike. Pitching my voice high, I batted my eyes and said, “Can’t you carry me, you big, strong man?”
“Get in the fucking wagon, Chris. We’re wasting time. I want to be out of town before daylight hits.”
Well, Soren seemed grumpy. I hopped on one leg, gritting my teeth so the pain induced by the movement didn’t show. Each bounce sent an already throbbing ache to levels that brought tears to my eyes. I really needed some antibiotics, and I needed them soon.
My feverish skin felt even hotter against the cold metal of the wagon. Yes, I’d been stuck in a kid’s tiny red wagon. Embarrassing for sure, but I knew if I tried to walk, I’d only hold us up, leaving us prey for the gangs that ran through town.
“Let’s go then,” Mike announced and bent to grab the handle.
Soren tossed a backpack into my lap, hitting me right in the gut. At least it wasn’t lower.
We rolled through town, the darkness mitigated by the bright moon overhead. The whole thing felt odd. One day, I worried over whether I’d forgotten to do a paper, and the next, dead people walked around. Even that was better than what followed.
I loved where we lived. Coming from a tiny town out in the middle of nowhere to the larger, busier city made me happier than I’d ever been back home. The depressing air of people who’d given up combined with the oppressive, unspoken rules of small-minded people urged me to leave before I’d ever even reached high school. College had been my escape, my chance to be myself without worrying about the rumors and gossip that seemed to be the lifeblood of small towns.
&n
bsp; But as I studied the streets of my new home, it looked very little like it had. I wasn’t even sure why it was being destroyed. It wasn’t a seat of power, and it didn’t have anything to do with the government. Hell, I didn’t understand any of it, anyway. Why they thought world destruction would solve the problem was well beyond me. It only made more of those walking corpses.
We ran across a few of them as we ducked into alleys to avoid the increasingly feral living. Mostly, the dead seemed to just wander around. None of them tried to eat our brains, so I was leaning away from the whole zombie thing. Still freaky because whatever the reason, they kept functioning. Some of them stayed outside, but I’d seen others go into their homes like they were merely coming home from work.
The litter that lined the streets made it harder for the wagon, and I hated how hard Mike had to work to pull me along. Probably should’ve suggested that they leave me behind, but I really didn’t want that. I’d be dead in days.
Nausea rolled through me, and my mouth began to water, signaling that I was about to be sick. When I parted my lips to speak, to tell Mike and Soren to stop for a minute, I forgot all about the trivial problem of vomiting.
That unmistakable sound of an explosion was born somewhere behind us, far enough away that we weren’t affected. Yet. My wagon and I began bouncing hard as Mike took off in a run, trying to find cover for us. Soren’s head whipped around, and his pack slapped against his back, making a rhythmic external version of how hard my heart thumped.
My breathing sped up, and a cold sweat coated my skin. I wanted to scream, to disappear, to hide beneath my mother’s apron. None of that happened, of course.
Instead, I spoke the first word since we’d left the frat house. “There!”
Jabbing my finger to my right, I pointed towards an apartment building that seemed sturdy. More importantly, it didn’t seem to have a buzzer system, and that meant we could hide in the lobby. If I could get my slow ass inside, that is.
Soren ran ahead, shoving the doors open, and relief washed through me. Too soon. We’re not inside yet. Mike’s feet pounded on the pavement, and I bounced along behind him, my fingers gripping the sides of the tiny wagon.
When we reached the steps, I was grateful for my death grip. The wheels slammed into the bottom step, and my body jerked forward, only stopped by my hold.
“Fuck, Mike. I’m already injured,” I complained even as I tried to scramble out onto the steps.
There was never just one bomb. It was fucking amazing that they still had any weapons left. Unless it was homemade. We’d seen that, too. People using stolen dynamite and shit to get inside secure places in hopes of finding something useful.
Either way, a little break from having my ass banging into that metal sardine can wouldn’t be a bad thing. If I could survive Mike dragging me across the steps, that is.
“Fucking A, Mike. It won’t do me any good to get inside if you kill me first,” I bitched, and he finally stopped long enough to let me stand.
I don’t think I went fast enough for him, though, because he began yelling for Soren who came running. After lifting me up like a toddler, they carried me inside, my shoes scraping against the concrete. Just as the door slammed behind us, the building shook as if it were a dog shaking off water. Mike tackled both Soren and me, shoving us down on the dirty lobby floor.
Last thing I remember was a sudden pain razing my mind and oddly, the single sock I spotted dangling from one of the mailboxes.
Shay
“Here,” I said as I shoved Coleen’s bag at her. “Fill it up.”
“Where will we go?” she asked, wrapping her fingers around the strap but not actually taking it from me.
Shaking my head, I answered her. “I don’t know, but we’ll have to find something.”
She pulled the backpack to her chest and crossed her arms over it as if it were some stuffed animal. With her head turned towards the now cracked window, she nodded absently and whispered, “Yeah.”
I bit my lip, torn between getting the hell out and trying to soothe her. My body wanted to go, but my mind knew she wasn’t really in a place to be just left like that. The explosion had been too close. The shrapnel flying through the air was what cracked the window. It probably would’ve shattered if it didn’t have mesh sandwiched inside the glass. Oh, sandwiches. I miss those.
Padding closer, I raised a hand and lowered it onto her shoulder. “Hey,” I breathed out, keeping my voice low. “You know we’re going to be fine, right? We can do this. Just need to get out of here before scavengers come see what they can get.”
She inhaled, holding her breath for a few seconds before blowing it out hard. “Yeah. You’re right. We’ve done everything else by ourselves, so why not this?”
After glancing up at me, she squared her shoulders and pulled away. I stared after her for a second before shrugging and heading towards the dresser. Socks would be important. Wouldn’t they? I’d definitely need underthings.
Just as my hand closed around her balled-up socks, I heard a sniffle behind me. Twisting so I could see her, I spotted her digging into the bottom of her closet.
“Hey, we’re going to go find a nice farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere. One in foreclosure or something. Maybe we can find some horses along the way.”
“Or a dog?” she asked, a slight wobble in her voice.
“Maybe a couple of dogs. And a cat or two to kill the mice,” I offered.
I knew she would take control of the conversation then. Get her talking about animals, and she’d be busy all day.
She chattered the entire time we stuffed our bags full. We layered clothes to keep ourselves warm in the chilly night air, but it also saved space for what little food we had left. I tossed in the half-full box of bandaids and whatever else I could find that I thought might be useful. Soon it grew too full, and I struggled to zip it up.
“Well, all we have left is finding a weapon. You want to use the broom again?” Coleen nodded, already on her way to get her makeshift staff. “Guess I’ll carry the knife then.”
It was a poor excuse for being armed, but it was the best we had. When we both found ourselves standing in front of the door, just staring at the piled-up furniture, time seemed to stop. The moment seemed huge. As soon as we twisted that knob, we weren’t hiding any longer.
I turned my head to see how Coleen was doing, and she did the same. Fear shone through her eyes and traveled through her body with visible trembles.
“I’m scared,” she whispered even though there was no one to disturb.
“Me, too,” I whispered back.
It wasn’t a lie. Weight pressed on my chest. We were purposefully leaving our home, our haven, our prison so we could go out into the crazy world. And we had no plan, nowhere to go.
Sucking in a deep breath, I stepped forward and grabbed the sides of a chair. “Let’s go do something stupid.”
There was a pause followed by a chuckle. “Let’s go fuck some shit up,” she said, referring to our usual pre-night out ritual.
“Yeah.” If only it were a night out.
Soren
Chris lay on the ground, his body limp. No matter what we did, he didn’t respond. My insides were chaotic. Everything buzzed and swirled while fear played with my cells.
Mike tried to wake him, but it didn’t work. We knew he was still alive because his heart still beat and his chest still rose, but we had no idea what was going on inside his head. His blood ran over my fingers as I tried to staunch the gushing flow that just kept coming. My eyes locked onto the red coating my skin.
“I don’t know what else to do,” Mike said before sitting back on his heels. With furrowed brows, he checked Chris’s pulse again. “Seems to be fine. I guess we just have to wait.”
“Get me a rag or something. This isn’t working,” I bit out, my concern turning my tone bitter.
As Mike found something, the crinkles of the bag were the only sounds I heard before a shirt slapped me in the fac
e. I jerked back, letting the cloth fall onto Chris.
“What the fuck?” I asked, a growl seeping into the words.
“Watch yourself. Don’t take your shit out on me.”
I opened my mouth, intending to apologize, but before I could say anything, a screech made our heads snap up.
Mike rose slowly, but I hesitated. Chris would be unprotected if I left him. Not to mention his head wound still flowed freely. I sucked in a breath, letting the pressure build in my chest while Mike snuck closer to the stairs.
That pushed me into action, and my hands moved from Chris’s head to his armpits. I dragged him out of view of anyone as they came down. We left a trail of smeared blood, but I didn't have time to clean anything up. Instead, I balled up the shirt and stuck it onto his forehead. Using my bag to keep it in place, I stood and crept over to where Mike waited.
We heard footsteps, light and cautious as they descended. I glanced at Mike, and he held up two fingers. Since I agreed, I nodded and readied myself. It wasn’t an overreaction. We’d seen what people could do at times like this. Hell, we’d already lost someone to it and were damn well on our way to losing a second.
Someone stumbled and cursed quietly causing me to cock my head. Something about the voice caught my attention even though I didn’t hear it very well. My mind tried to puzzle it out, but it snapped into place just about the time she came into view.
With her hair bound up into a ponytail, a woman brandishing a filet knife appeared. The darkness of the lobby allowed me to see a little, but it wasn’t exactly bright enough to make out a whole lot, and I didn’t want to startle her with a sudden spotlight being turned on her.
But then she spotted us. Her hunched back and careful steps disappeared as she threw up one hand towards someone still hidden behind the wall that blocked the staircase. The other hand jerked up with the knife pointed towards Mike. Those dark eyes skipped between us while she planted her feet.