by Chelsea Luna
“I haven’t gone outside since that day. I figured if it was that bad during the initial outbreak, it hasn’t gotten any better. Jorge’s sister Lucia died and came back as one of those things, but that was our only casualty. We stay quiet and lay low. Have you lost many people?”
“My parents,” Cage said. He pointed to Rachel and the kids. “They all lost their families, too.”
Manny shook his head. “Now Adam is going to lose his girlfriend. I’m sorry for all of your losses. Do you know if Maria survived? I’m guessing she didn’t because she’s not here with you now.”
“Maria?” Cage asked.
“Adam’s mother.”
Rachel shook her head. “I’m sorry. She didn’t make it. Adam’s house was attacked on the first day.”
“My aunt was a great woman. God rest her soul.” Manny stood up. “Come get some food. I can hear your stomachs growling from here.”
Cage, Rachel and the kids followed Manny down the hallway and into a bright sun-yellow painted kitchen. The white cabinets were chipped in places, but the room had an inviting warmth.
Nicky and Lindsay sat at the long eight-chaired table. A thick padded bandage covered the arrow wound on Nicky’s arm. He must’ve been feeling better because he was shoveling food in with his other hand. Carmen fluttered around the kitchen while Jorge leaned against the wall, cleaning his dirty nails with a hunting knife.
“Carmen, love.” Manny kissed his wife on the forehead. “Can you fix something to eat for the rest of them?”
Carmen smiled and pulled food from the refrigerator. Manny motioned to the table. “Please take a seat, I’m going to check on Adam.”
Cage, Rachel, Morgan and Finn made their way to the dining room table. Jorge didn’t bother to look up until Rachel walked by. He stared at her like she was a T-bone steak. When Jorge finally pulled his eyes from Rachel, he noticed Cage. Jorge flashed a horrible grin.
Cage would keep his eye on that guy. He didn’t trust him. Not for a second.
“Dude,” Nicky said. “This food is awesome. Much better than the caviar I had earlier. I think it messed up my stomach. Who would want to eat fish eggs?”
“How’s your arm?” Rachel asked, sitting at the table.
“Hurts like hell.” Nicky flexed his shoulder. “Eating helps the pain.”
“Don’t move it,” Carmen warned. “You’ll mess up the bandaging.”
“Sorry.”
Carmen placed a plate of sandwiches and a bowl of rice on the table. “Eat up.”
“Thank you,” Cage said.
“You are welcome,” Carmen said. “I cannot believe you all have been out there all this time.” She shook her head. “Unbelievable. It is as if God has turned his back on us. Punishing us for our sins.”
Jorge snickered.
Cage placed a sandwich on Finn’s plate. “It’s bad out there.” He didn’t want to comment on God’s role in all of this. He didn’t know what to think or believe on that subject.
“Thanks,” Finn said.
Carmen clicked her tongue at Jorge. “You have no faith. That is your problem.”
Jorge dug his knife under his thumbnail. “Terrorists did this. Not God. The same assholes that Manny fought when he was overseas. That’s who’s responsible. God has no role in this.”
Rachel swallowed a bite of her sandwich. “Is that what you heard? Terrorists?”
Jorge’s dark eyes flickered to Rachel.
“We’ve been on the road for four days,” Rachel said. “We don’t know what’s going on. Has it spread across the country? Have they found a cure?”
Jorge regarded Rachel for a long time, as if deciding if he wanted to answer her or not. “Cable went out yesterday afternoon. I don’t know what that means. Maybe the cable company went dead or maybe there’s no one left to report anymore.” Jorge shrugged. “The news said it started in Chicago — at O’Hare airport, Wrigley Field and Millennium Park. Three coordinated attacks in the most crowded sections of Chicago.”
“Wrigley?” Nicky swallowed a mouthful of food. “I never saw the Cubs play in person. Dang it! It was on my to-do-list.”
Jorge ignored him. “Chicago was overrun within a few hours. The place is crawling with dead people. They showed a live camera feed and all you could see was black smoke rising over the city.”
“Why Chicago?” Lindsay asked. “Why not New York City?”
“I agree,” Nicky said. “In disaster movies, it’s always New York City that gets taken out first.”
“I don’t know,” Jorge said. “Maybe the terrorists thought they’d go unnoticed if they attacked someplace other than New York.”
“Zombies are all over America now?” Cage asked.
“Yeah,” Jorge said hollowly. “They tried to contain the spread of infection, but it didn’t work. People that were infected, but not yet showing signs, slipped through the barriers. They did a shitty job of protecting the border, if you ask me. The country’s too big. It’s better out west and down south. There aren’t as many zombies, because there aren’t as many people. Up north and the east coast….” He exhaled dramatically and made eye contact with the whole room. “You should’ve seen the images coming out of Manhattan.”
Rachel leaned forward. Jorge smiled, basking in the attention she was giving him. Cage wanted to punch him in the face.
“The east — New York City and Boston — they didn’t get hit as quickly as we did, but they knew about the outbreak before it arrived on their doorstep,” Jorge said. “That made it worse, because it gave people time to panic. People started scrambling, trying to get out of the city before the first zombies reached them. Other people rioted.”
Jorge leaned against the wall. “Once the infection hit the east coast, it was way worse than here. There are too many people in such a small space. The helicopter news cameras showed thousands of zombies stumbling down Times Square. Manhattan was so screwed.”
“Because it’s an island,” Nicky said quietly.
Jorge nodded. “Only way in or out is through the tunnels and bridges and those jammed up fast.”
Cage’s chest tightened. How could this be happening?
Rachel and Finn listened to Jorge’s every word. Morgan had her eyes focused on the food, as if making a point not to listen. The two sisters couldn’t be more different.
“So that’s it?” Lindsay asked. “America’s doomed? No help is coming? What about Europe? Where are our allies? Don’t we have allies? Like the British or something?”
“The government grounded all of the airplanes on the second day,” Jorge said. “There were already reports in London and Tokyo. I’m sure some infected people slipped through the gates before Uncle Sam downed the birds.” Jorge shrugged. “Dunno. Too much shit was going on here in the good ole U.S. of A for the news to report about what was happening overseas.”
“But there are safe zones?” Rachel asked. “Right?”
“Small ones in each state, like Ford Field and Spartan Stadium, here in Michigan,” Jorge said. “A few major refugee camps were set up near military bases.”
“Where?” Rachel asked.
“The two biggest ones that I heard of were Las Vegas and Nashville.”
Nicky made a face. “Those are two of the most random cities that you could’ve named.”
Jorge shook his head. “Fort Campbell in Kentucky is only sixty miles from Nashville. A bunch of the military gathered there and made this huge perimeter from the base all the way around Nashville. Hundreds of refugee camps were set up inside that safe zone with the army completely surrounding it. They have tanks and everything.”
“What about Las Vegas?” Rachel asked.
“Perfect spot,” Jorge said. “There’s nothing but desert for miles around. The government had secret bases in Nevada. You know, Area 51 and secret shit like that. The troops came to Vegas, took care of the zombies, and then made a perimeter. It’s the perfect fortified city.”
“Vegas is too far away,” L
indsay said. “It’s on the other side of the country!”
“Nashville isn’t that far,” Rachel said.
Jorge looked up at her. “It’s like five hundred miles across a zombie-infested country. I’d say that’s far.”
Rachel turned to Cage, ignoring Jorge. “Ford Field is a small camp. Hopefully, they’re transporting people down to the bigger safe zones, but maybe not. If we really want to be safe, we should go to Nashville.”
“Didn’t you hear him?” Lindsay asked. “It’s five hundred miles away and the country is infested.”
“Didn’t you hear him?” Rachel shot back. “It’s a refugee camp surrounded by the American military. Who cares how far it is? If we can’t be transported down there, then we should find a car and go.”
Nicky shoved the last forkful of food into his mouth. “Nashville, huh?”
Rachel looked at Cage. “Let’s go to Ford Field, but if that doesn’t work out, we head to Nashville. Agree?”
Cage nodded.
Nicky burped. “Well, yee-haw.”
Chapter Fourteen
Nicky didn’t care where they were headed. Ford Field. Nashville. Las Vegas — though he’d jump at the chance to play a little blackjack. It didn’t matter. As long as he could sleep without having to worry about zombies gnawing on his face in the middle of the night and as long as there was food — he was good.
Speaking of food, this Carmen chick was a top-notch chef. He hadn’t had anything that tasty in days. Nicky pointed to Lindsay’s sandwich crust and scattered pile of brown rice. “Are you going to eat that?”
Lindsay pushed the plate in front of him. “Have at it, you garbage disposal.”
“Sweet.”
That psycho Jorge had finally stopped talking. What a pain in the ass. He had this smug look on his face that Nicky wanted to punch off.
The shaved-headed gangster kept staring at Rachel and Cage was getting pissed. Nicky wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was annoyed that Jorge wasn’t staring at Lindsay. Nicky understood. He’d initially liked Rachel, too — even after she threatened to shoot his foot off. But Lindsay was hot, too. Why wasn’t this jerk leering at Lindsay so Nicky could have a reason to beat his ass?
But what could Nicky or Cage really do? They were guests in Manny’s house and Jorge was Manny’s boy. In the gang culture, that meant Jorge was Manny’s family. Nope, they couldn’t touch him.
Carmen cleared the plates from the table. “Would you kids like to watch a DVD? I think my nephew left a few here that you may enjoy.”
Finn and Morgan followed Carmen into the living room.
“It’s weird,” Lindsay said.
“What’s that?” Nicky scraped his plate with a fork, picking up every last grain of rice.
“If you try not to think about it, it’s like everything is okay here in this house. They have real food, a kitchen, beds and the kids are about to watch a movie.”
“Until the power goes out,” Jorge said. “Then we’ll have a problem.”
“What?” Rachel asked. “The power’s going out? How do you know that?”
“Little pockets of blackouts have already happened all over the country. It will happen here, soon. Just wait. Then people are really going to go bonkers.”
Nicky slid his plate away. “I’m done.”
He didn’t want to hear anymore about how life was going to get worse. He stood from the table, but the movement jostled his injured shoulder. Damn. That hurt.
A line appeared between Lindsay’s eyebrows. “Are you okay?”
“Let’s watch that DVD with the kids,” Nicky said. “I’m done listening to all this doom and gloom.”
Jorge gave him a maniacal smile. He enjoyed scaring them.
Prick.
Cage and Rachel were still eating, but Nicky made eye contact with Cage. Be careful. He led Lindsay away from the psychopath. The kids were on the floor with pillows and blankets watching a movie. Nicky sat on the couch and inwardly smiled when Lindsay moved close to him.
“That guy’s a freak,” Lindsay whispered. “I think he’s in a gang.”
“That’s why we’re in here and he’s over there. Ten bucks says Cage and Rachel mosey on in here within five minutes.”
“Probably.” Lindsay scooted beside him until her thigh touched his. “I don’t like this place. I mean, I do, it seems safe, but I wish Jorge wasn’t here. How long will we stay here, do you think?”
“Until Selena passes.”
Lindsay frowned. “How long do you think she has?”
“Not long.”
Cage and Rachel walked through the living room and up the stairs. “We’re going to check on Selena,” Cage said.
Lindsay waited for them to climb the stairs. “What do you think of Nashville?”
“I think it’s far and I’m not a fan of country music.”
“Me, too. I mean, I think it’s far. And I guess I don’t care for country music either.”
“I think Rachel’s right,” Nicky said. “If they’re not ferrying people to the larger safe zones, then what’s the point? Eventually the small safe zones, like Ford Field, are going to get overrun, too.”
Lindsay exhaled. “You always agree with Rachel.”
Nicky nudged her in the ribs. “Rachel has saved our ass like a thousand times. She went back into that zombie-infested dorm to rescue Cage, remember? That has to earn her some points.”
“It was her fault Cage was left behind in the first place.”
Nicky shrugged. “I thought Cage was left behind because he sacrificed himself to save you.”
“Cage was left behind because zombies attacked us. Zombies that were led straight to us by Rachel’s loud mouth. Just forget it. You wouldn’t understand. I hate to burst your bubble, but Rachel sucks.”
“Is that why you almost let her fall from the dorm window?”
Lindsay sat up straight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Nicky let it go. He didn’t want to argue with Lindsay and she’d probably never admit it anyway. The important part was that she had helped Rachel, even if she had hesitated. “You owe me, you know?”
“What?”
“Your sob story.” Nicky grinned. “You made me tell mine on a window ledge, for crying out loud. Talk about putting a man on the spot. Now, I want to hear yours. It’s only fair.”
“Oh.” Lindsay smoothed her short skirt. “It’s nothing really.”
“You were hiding in your ex-boyfriend’s hall closet when we found you. There has to be a story behind that.”
Lindsay glared at him. “So what if I was?”
“Okay, fine,” Nicky said. “Don’t tell me.”
He propped his feet on the coffee table and settled into the couch. He could use a catnap. He closed his eyes and reminded himself to get some aspirin from Adam’s backpack when he had the chance. The arrow wound painfully throbbed to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Carmen called his injury “lucky.” Right. According to this chick, Nicky should feel lucky that her jarhead husband shot him in the fleshy part of his shoulder, beneath his clavicle bone. No major arteries or organs were damaged, according to Carmen.
Lucky, his ass.
“Okay,” Lindsay sighed.
“What?”
“I’ll tell you what happened that night.” She turned toward him so she could see his face.
She’s so hot. Dressed ridiculously for the end of the world — who wears a skirt and halter top? — but, hot nonetheless. Nicky patted her knee. “I’m all ears, Barbie doll.”
“I’d just gotten off the phone with Cage. Well, technically, he hung up on me.” Lindsay sighed. “I was being neurotic. We’d broken up, but I wanted to get back together. Anyway, that’s beside the point. I was supposed to be watching my little brother, Sean. There was a lot of banging coming from downstairs when I was on the phone with Cage, but I figured Sean was just horsing around.”
Nicky nodded for her to continue.
&nbs
p; “I was angry that Cage hung up on me, so I tried to calm down before I went downstairs. I didn’t want Sean to see me crying, because he would’ve teased me and I wasn’t in the mood. I, uh, I should’ve gone downstairs sooner.” Lindsay dropped her eyes.
Nicky took her hand.
“I finally went downstairs,” Lindsay said. “I was such a bitch. I yelled at him from the stairs, screaming louder and louder with each step I took.” She paused. “When I finally reached the landing, I knew something was wrong. All the furniture was flipped over. The frosted glass in the front door was shattered all over the entryway. There was blood — smeared handprints — on the wall.”
“Your brother was turned?” Nicky whispered.
Lindsay shook her head. A thin stream of tears rolled down her left cheek. She angrily wiped at them. “No. I followed the blood trail into the den. Sean was sprawled out on my mom’s polar bear rug. He was dead. They were eating him.”
“What about your parents? Where were they?”
Tears fell from both eyes now. She shook her head. “No, they were eating Sean.”
“Your parents?”
“Sick, right?” Lindsay wiped at her eyes again. “I ran. I didn’t know what to do. Like, what do you do when your parents are eating your brother? The worse part is that I heard the noise when I was on the phone with Cage. I heard it for like half an hour. If I’d gone down there instead of worrying about Cage breaking up with me, then maybe I could’ve helped Sean.”
“Lindsay.”
“No, you’re right, what could I have done? I’m useless. I haven’t killed one zombie yet. Did you know that? Not one. How many have you killed?”
“I don’t know,” Nicky lied. Thirty-seven. He’d kept count of each and every kill he made.
“Or Rachel? She’s killed like fifty. Selena has killed a few. Finn’s even killed one. Nope, my tally is at zero. I ran out of my house like a baby and where did I go? Cage’s house.” She shook her head. “I ran to my ex-boyfriend’s house. The guy who didn’t want me anymore — that’s who I ran to in my time of need. How pathetic is that?”
He gathered Lindsay under his good arm. She laid her head against his chest and cried. “It’s not pathetic, Lindsay.”
