I shove at him, struggling free. “They’re going to hear us.” I gesture in the vague direction of the living room as I sweep up my clothes. Realizing they’re still covered in the grime, blood, and sweat from yesterday, I release them with a grunt.
I spot a fresh haul of clothing Lila must have brought in yesterday: three paper bags filled with clean garments. I pluck off jeans and a shirt and shimmy into them, not caring that both are too big.
“You better get up unless you want Lila to see you naked,” I tell Carter.
He quirks an eyebrow. I see the joke forming on his lips.
I plant my hands on my hips and raise my eyebrow, daring. He melts into a chuckle. Closing the distance between us, he gives me one last kiss before climbing into his clothes. Which are filthy from yesterday’s trip into town. If Carter cares, he doesn’t let it show.
“Finally,” Lila announces as we emerge into the hall. “Everyone is waiting for you guys.”
As we enter the sitting room, we find she was not exaggerating. Kate, Johnny, Eric, and Reed are all there. The air in the room is somber. I pause, surveying everyone.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“I’ve called a Creekside meeting.” Kate rises from her seat on the arm of the sofa, planting herself in front of the flat screen. Whatever is going on, she means business.
“A meeting about what?” Carter asks.
“About the fact that all of us almost died last night.”
Oh. That. Do we really have to talk about it? Other than Carter and I making up, I’d like to bury all memories of last night.
Johnny raises his hand. “Should I take minutes?” His joking smile wilts under Kate’s flat stare.
“First,” Kate says, “I want to know who those guys were who locked you up.”
Carter and I turn to Reed. He wrinkles his nose and scratches at his head.
“They didn’t lock us up on purpose,” Reed says. “They put us in the closet to keep us safe, but the curio fell over and we got locked inside ...” His voice trails off under the weight of Kate’s scowl. He swallows and begins again. “They were, uh, guys I worked with back in Oakland. Granjero’s guys sort of have a serious turf war with Mr. Rosario’s group. Guys from both groups got stranded here at the start of the outbreak.”
“I was afraid of this,” Kate says. “There are two warring drug factions out there, and even though we’re in a zombie apocalypse, they still fight over territory?”
Jenna, Carter, and Reed all nod.
“Shit,” she growls. “Not good.” She paces up and down in front of the flat screen.
“At least the fire didn’t jump the freeway,” Reed says. “And the rain put out most of the fire.”
“Reed,” Kate says, “this is not a glass half full situation. Men from Granjero or Mr. Rosario could show up here. They already did once.”
He shrinks under her glare, subconsciously running his hands through his afro.
“We need to secure this building,” Kate says. “But we also need to be ready to evacuate if a bunch of them show up here with guns, or if something equally dangerous happens. Last night shows us just how much we need to be able to rely on our own two feet.”
I see where this conversation is going. Kate is walking us into her conclusion.
“We need to be in shape,” I say.
Kate nods. “Correct.”
Horrified eyes turn in her direction.
“I can’t run,” Lila declares.
“I almost died running last night,” Reed says.
“Running isn’t an option for normal people,” Eric says.
“That attitude is the reason we nearly didn’t make it out of Arcata,” Kate replies, voice level and eyes unyielding. “When was the last time any of you did anything resembling strenuous exercise?”
“Carter and Jenna were being pretty strenuous last night,” Johnny says.
I roll my eyes. Carter says, “You’re just jealous, dude.”
“Damn right I’m jealous. You’ve got one of the two pretty girls around here all to yourself.” His eyes dart to Kate. “No offense.”
Kate shakes her head, refusing to be drawn into the banter. “It’s a new world out there.” She thrusts her index finger in the direction of the small kitchen window. “Physical fitness counts. You all need to get into shape. I’m going to help you.”
Silence. Eyes bug.
Then everyone starts talking at once.
“You can’t make us into ultrarunners,” Lila says.
“Did you see this guy run?” Johnny waves his hand at Reed. “He almost tripped over his own pants.”
“And what about you?” Reed shoots back, tugging on his baggy jeans that barely cover his boxer shorts. “Like you weren’t huffing and puffing with the rest of us.”
“I’m a writer,” Johnny says. “I can write about running, but I can’t do it.”
“You’re all wrong.” To my surprise, Carter steps into the center of the room. “I’ve never run a race, but I spent a lot of time at ultras growing up. I saw all types of people on the trails. Fat people. Skinny people. Young people. Even grandparents. It’s all a matter of training. Anyone can run if they decide to.”
“Thank you, Carter.” Kate steps up to stand beside him. “You took the words out of my mouth.” She turns her eyes on the rest of us. “I’m going to train all of you. Feet are the safest form of transportation. All of you are going to learn how to use them.”
“I’m in.” I step forward to join Carter and Kate in front of the flat screen. Kate’s words make perfect sense, but that’s not the real reason I’m stepping up. Kate could propose that we all learn to be ninjas and I’d still step up.
I want Carter and Kate for my family. My family is gone from my life. Even if I hated them half the time, their loss hurts. I’m determined not to lose my new family. Kate and Carter might not know it, and they might not feel the same about me, but I’m determined to be part of their unit. If that means training and working out, that’s what I’ll do.
“What the hell.” Johnny tosses his notebook across the tabletop. “I’m in. On one condition.” He points a finger at Kate. “I want your story.”
Kate’s mouth tightens, resistance in every angle of her face.
“How about when you’re ready?” Carter intercedes. “You don’t have to give the interview tomorrow, or even six months from now.”
“One year,” Johnny agrees. “I want it sometime in the next year.
Kate hesitates, then nods. “Okay. If you apply yourself to training, I promise to share my story with you.”
“I’m in, Mama,” Reed announces. “But you have to adopt me. I need a mom not addicted to crack.”
No one laughs. We know he’s dead serious. About Kate and his own mother.
“Fine, Reed,” Kate says. “I’ll adopt you.”
“I mean it,” he says. “You have to love me like you love Carter.”
“Dude,” Carter says, frowning.
“Fine, whatever,” Reed says. “But I want to be adopted. I want a badass mom.”
“Consider yourself adopted,” Kate says. “Eric?”
“Okay,” he says. “I guess if the rest of you are doing it.”
“I’m not doing it,” Lila says. “How do you expect us to train, anyway? Where are we supposed to run with zombies everywhere out there?”
Kate smiles. “I’m glad you asked, Lila. Come with me.”
33
Course
KATE
“What the fuck is that?”
I’m not sure who speaks, but the obstacle course elicits the same reaction from all the kids.
We stand on the first-floor lounge, where five dead zombies have been arranged down the center of the room. The sofas and tables have all been pushed to one side.
“You brought them inside?” Lila demands. “That is so disgusting.”
“Welcome to Humboldt University’s first ultramarathon training camp,” I say.
&
nbsp; Six sets of eyes bug at me in horror. Everyone starts talking at once.
“We can’t train for an ultramarathon in a lounge,” Eric argues. “That’s just stupid.”
“What if those things carry disease?” Lila asks. “Oh my God, I think I see maggots.”
“Can I get stoned before my workout? That’s the only way I’m going to be able to deal with the smell,” Reed says.
“Hear her out.” Jenna raises her voice. “Just shut up and hear her out!”
“Thank you, Jenna. Training for an ultra isn’t necessarily about having lots of places to run,” I tell the kids. “I once knew a guy who worked on a cruise ship. He trained for ultras on the treadmill. He’d do four hours of uphill power walking interspersed with interval sprints. It’s all a matter of perspective.” I gesture at the dead bodies. “You could run in circles, but I figured you’d get bored. And to be honest, it’s good to work different muscle groups. Jumping over and dodging around zombies is valuable practice for what you’ll encounter out there. And it’s good to remember exactly what is out there.” I point to the world outside the dorm building. “Come on. I’ll show you the next station.”
“Station?” Lila says. “What are you talking about?”
“I set up three endurance training stations,” I reply. “You’ll rotate through them. Today, you’ll do each station for twenty minutes. We add five minutes every third day until you get to a four-hour workout. That’s a good endurance base.”
“Four hours?” Reed exclaims. “Just because you’re my mama doesn’t mean you can abuse me.”
“This is what it takes,” I reply. “You need to be strong. All of you. I’m going to make you strong.”
The grumbling continues. I take them back into the stairwell, which I’ve cleared of all debris and set up with cups and a water pitcher.
“Stair repeats,” I tell them. “You don’t have to run them. Just go up and down as fast as you can.”
Reed groans. “I’m going to die. Just kill me now, Mama.”
We head upstairs to the third floor, where I’ve set up the last station.
“What are these?” Johnny hefts one of three backpacks I’ve staged just inside the door. Each weighs seven to ten pounds.
“Weight training,” I reply. “We might have to move with supplies on our backs like we did last night. Supplies can be the difference between living and dying. Jog up and down the hall with the backpacks. When you get tired, speed walk. When you’re too tired for that, just walk. The most important thing is to be on your feet and moving.”
“You’re sadistic. I’m not doing any of this.” Lila storms away, the stairwell door slamming shut behind her.
“Anyone else?” I ask those that remain.
They hesitate, looking at one another, each waiting for someone else to speak.
Jenna and Carter are the only ones who don’t look like they’ve been hit with a fifty-pound sack of rice. If anything, Jenna looks eager; that’s the track girl inside of her. Carter looks resigned, probably because he’s witnessed crazy training routines his entire life. He knows what’s in store for him.
Eric, Reed, and Johnny look like they want to melt into the floor. But none of them leave. The fact they’re still here listening makes me proud of them. The mental aspect of ultrarunning is seventy-five percent of the game.
“When do we start?” Jenna asks.
“Right now,” I reply. “Put on your shoes and some workout clothes. I expect everyone back here in fifteen minutes.”
I ASSIGN CARTER AND Jenna to the first-floor zombie obstacle course. Reed and Eric are sent to the weight station. I pair up with Johnny and tackle the stairs.
I pick up the old-fashioned kitchen timer I found in a drawer and turn it to twenty minutes. Johnny takes off at a run, tearing up the stairs. I start at a fast power hike.
Five minutes into the exercise, I pass Johnny. Sweat drips down his nose and temples.
“This sucks,” he wheezes.
“I used to do hill repeats with my running buddy,” I tell him as I plow past. “There was a hill near my house one mile straight up. The views were great. We would go up and down that hill four or five times. It was great for building climbing muscles.”
This time, he only grunts in response. I take this as a good sign. I need to wear him out. I need to wear them all out. Push them to the point of exhaustion, let them rest, then do it all again. It’s the only way to make them stronger.
When the kitchen timer dings to signal the first twenty minutes is over, Johnny looks like he’s been in a sauna for two hours. His face is red and his clothes are drenched in sweat. Even his sideburns glisten with perspiration.
“Two more intervals, then you’re done for today,” I tell him cheerfully.
“I think maybe I should have tried to work out once or twice a week instead of, you know, screwing around on the ham in all my free time,” Johnny says.
“Exercise is now a survival tactic,” I reply. “You can put that in your book. Come on.”
We enter the first floor as Jenna and Carter are finishing their workout. Jenna’s cheeks are flushed, but her eyes are bright.
“I should have kept up with running after I graduated,” she says. “I’m out of shape.”
“I think I have a new idea for a beer name,” Carter says. “Just because we can’t have a mobile beer business doesn’t mean we can’t make beer, babe.”
“What’s the name?” Jenna asks.
“Obstacle.”
Jenna’s eyes light up. “I have some label ideas. I’ll sketch them out when we’re finished.”
“They’re too chipper for their own good,” Johnny grumbles, but he resolutely accompanies me into the zombie obstacle course I’ve created.
“Fast as you can,” I tell Johnny. “Back and forth as many times as you can. Ready?” I hold up the kitchen timer.
“No, but yeah,” he says.
We’re off, charging around the room side by side. All told, it’s three or four hundred yards long.
“Tell me again why you thought bringing bodies in here was a good idea?” Johnny asks when we reach the far wall, turn around, and start back the other way.
“Life isn’t a smooth all-weather track,” I reply. “Last night, when we were running through Arcata, there were obstacles everywhere. Bodies underfoot. Zombies coming after us. Cars to dodge around. You have to train yourself to be aware of your surroundings, particularly of your next few steps. You always need to watch the terrain in front of you. This gives your brain time to make adjustments for any obstacle you might encounter. You’re basically getting a two-for-one on this part of the course. Endurance and environmental awareness.”
“You couldn’t have used a coffee table or something instead?” he gasps. “There’s perfectly good furniture everywhere.”
“I wanted to give you guys a realistic simulation of what you would encounter outside.”
The stink is bad. I may have been a little too enthusiastic when I dragged the bodies in here. I’ll replace them with furniture tomorrow, but for now, I hope they serve as reminders of the danger that awaits outside.
We reach the end of the lounge, turn around, and start back the other way. Johnny sucks in great gulps of air, still tired from the short stairwell workout.
We run a few more laps, Johnny falling behind with each one. I slow my steps to stay in sync with him.
“How are the shoes?” I ask him.
“Huh?”
“The shoes. You helped me pick them out last night. How do they feel?”
He scowls, which tells me how much of a toll this workout is taking on him. “Like shoes.”
“Pay attention to your feet. If you start to feel any abnormal pain, let me know. There was a time I ran a one-hundred-kilometer race with my laces too tight. I ended up with a giant bruise on the top of one foot. It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. During the run, I thought I had a stress fracture. I didn’t want to be pulled from the race so I kept r
unning. If I’d just taken off my shoe and inspected my foot, I would have figured out what was going on. It would have made the last twenty miles much easier. My point is, pay attention to the little things. Don’t let them become big things.”
Johnny grunts. We continue back and forth until the timer dings, then head upstairs for the last part of the course.
This time, we pass Reed and Eric as they drag themselves down to the first floor. Reed has pulled his hair into a tight ponytail that stands over his head like a nuclear cloud. Eric looks at me and says, “I hear weed can provide pain relief to endurance athletes.”
“Not on my watch,” I reply. “You guys need to learn to function through pain. If you insist on smoking, save it until the workout is over.”
“You just told us we have to function through pain,” Eric says, staring at me like I’m crazy. “Who says stuff like that?”
“That’s the whole point of this type of training. Didn’t you all hurt like hell on our run back to Creekside last night?” I wait for their nods. “What if we have to run twice as far next time? Or farther? You’re going to hurt. You have to learn how to mentally and physically keep going when your body hurts.”
“Carter,” Eric yells up the stairwell, “you didn’t tell us your mom is a certified masochist.”
I shrug, dragging Johnny with me up the stairs to the third floor. When I hand him the weighted backpack, he groans and shrugs into it.
“Think of it this way,” I tell him. “When I decide to share my story with you, you’ll have firsthand knowledge to add to the writing.”
“I’m reconsidering our deal,” he replies sourly. “Maybe I don’t want to write your story as much as I thought I did.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “You’ll be thankful you put in the work the next time we go into town.”
I break into a jog, trotting down the corridor. The backpack bounces against my spine and lower back as I run. It’s a regular college backpack, not one of the running packs we snagged from Trading Post last night. I’m saving those to make bug-out bags for everyone.
I hear zombies bump against the closed doors of the dorm rooms. They scratch and moan against the wood, agitated by our presence. As I continue up and down the long hallway, I make a mental note to get everyone up here and clear the floor as soon as possible.
Undead Ultra Box Set | Books 1-4 Page 50
