Apocalypse Journeys (Book 1): Jacob's Odyssey

by Melrose, Russ

  I found a family-size bag of frozen broccoli in the freezer that would go well with the salmon. The fridge was well stocked. I grabbed some sliced cheese and root beer from the fridge and found a bag of soda crackers in the pantry and made myself a snack. I sat at the dining room table and ate my snack slowly. The ice-cold root beer tasted wonderful.

  I opened the Nexus browser and went into Google and used the onscreen keyboard to type in search terms for Sarah Josephson and wedding announcement. I found results in the archives from the Salt Lake Tribune. Sarah was marrying a man by the name of Andrew Schrader. She was nineteen at the time and the announcement was dated twelve years ago. She looked quite beautiful in the photo they had of her. Even back then her smile was quiet and guarded. Schrader had thick, reddish hair and serious eyes.

  Despite the fact that the wedding announcement was public information, I still felt as though I were spying on Sarah. I pressed ahead anyway.

  Now that I had his name, I googled Schrader. Most of the results had the words murder and suicide in them. Schrader had a history of drug problems. On the day in question, he broke into his father-in-law's house to steal valuables, presumably to buy drugs. Afterward, they found a stolen collection of rare coins in his backpack. A neighbor had alerted Sarah's father, Tyler Josephson, that someone had broken into his house. The neighbor called the police too. Sarah's father worked nearby as a professor at the U and got there before the police. He came home and found his son-in-law going through his things. The police surmised Schrader had panicked when confronted and shot Sarah's father. The police arrived moments after the shooting. They tried to talk Schrader into giving himself up, but eventually he shot himself instead. At the end, the article mentioned that Tyler Josephson was survived by his wife, Lily Cheung Josephson and his daughter, Sarah Josephson Schrader.

  If my math was correct, Sarah was pregnant with Becky at the time of the shooting.

  I thought about the three of them—Sarah and Becky and Raj. And it struck me why I'd been in such a haze all afternoon. I was responsible for them now. Lock, stock, and barrel. There was no getting away from it. If anything went wrong, it would be on me.

  *****

  Raj rummaged through the clothes I'd brought back with great meticulousness. He was already wearing the Jazz cap. He held the t-shirts up and inspected them closely. I told him to pick two tees and two pairs of shorts for our journey. He picked out a yellow tee with a British flag printed across the chest and the name of an '80s rock band, Def Leppard, superimposed over the flag. He held it up to his chest. Sarah and Becky grinned wildly and held their hands over their mouths, fighting off laughter. I could only assume they'd never seen Raj wearing anything as risqué as a rock band t-shirt.

  "I know this band," he said, raising his eyes earnestly and nodding once as if he were trying to convince us of the fact. "I know who they were. I really do."

  Sarah and Becky looked as if they were about to cry from restrained laughter.

  Raj was already wearing the hiking shoes. They fit him perfectly. Earlier he'd spent twenty minutes walking back and forth in the family room getting used to his new shoes.

  After Raj had picked out his clothes, we sat down to eat on Sarah and Becky's mattress. Sarah had broken out the fine china for our meal. She had placed table mats below the plates. The plates were a smooth, elegant china white with gold trim along the edges and branches that were dense with colorful autumn leaves curving up the left side of the plates. They were strikingly beautiful. Sarah told us she had never used the plates before but wanted to use them since this might be the last chance she would ever have to use them. She mentioned the china had been a wedding gift from her father. It was the most information she had offered about herself since my arrival.

  We ate silently. Salmon and broccoli. The salmon tasted wonderful. Raj had cooked the meal. He had doted over the salmon fillets, soaked them in olive oil and seasoned them with salt and pepper, dried basil, and parsley. And he'd taken a moment to chide Sarah for not having a better selection of herbs and spices. She'd glared at him briefly and rolled her eyes before breaking into a playful smile.

  Becky poked disinterestedly at her food and affected a bored posture. Her shoulders were slumped and she sighed to let everyone know how bored she was. If there was one thing I understood about ten-year-olds, it was how easily they could get bored if they weren't playing or being entertained in some way.

  I'm sure Sarah would have told Becky to straighten up if she'd actually been present, but she wasn't. She was off, lost in her thoughts. Sarah's face was reverently placid. She stared absently at her plate as if she were in a dissociative state.

  And for once, Raj didn't seem to notice Sarah. His focus was on his meal. He ate it with practiced deliberation, savoring each bite much the same way he had sipped the almond milk the night before.

  I watched the three of them as I ate my food. They were nice people and I was responsible for them. And the implications inherent in being responsible for them hit me like a ton of bricks. They were putting their lives in my hands, and the idea of it put me on edge. They were less prepared to be out there than I had been. I fought off a feeling of impending doom.

  "It's a wonderful meal, Raj," I told him, trying to distract myself from my escalating paranoia.

  Sarah looked up. She appeared disoriented, lost, and it took her a moment to catch up to the conversation. "Yes, Raj," she finally said, joining in. "It was a wonderful meal. Thank you very much."

  "Uh huh," Becky chimed in. "Thank you, Raj."

  Raj pressed his hands together in a prayerful pose and nodded respectfully at each of us. "You're very welcome," he said. "Very welcome." He smiled contentedly and went back to enjoying his meal.

  Sarah dabbled wistfully at her food and returned to her introspective musings. I suspected she was thinking about her father. Nothing else was said after that.

  After dinner and cleaning up, I told them the details of the plan. We sat in the family room. Raj and I on the couch, Sarah and Becky on the edge of the coffee table. Sarah and Raj listened to me studiously. Becky was wide-eyed.

  There were a few things I kept reiterating to them. Once we were on foot, I told them not to panic if they saw a group of infected. I reminded them that most of the infected moved slowly, and as long as we weren’t surrounded or hemmed in, we could outrun them. I told them we would spend most of our time in backyards and we likely wouldn't see any infected. And whenever we crossed streets, we would make sure there wouldn't be any infected around. I told them as long as we followed the simple rules I was outlining for them, we would be perfectly safe. And I believed that.

  I told them there could be absolutely no talking. They all nodded their understanding. I told them we would use gestures to communicate, and if we had to, we could write messages on paper. I suggested to them that we each carry a pencil or a pen and paper in our pockets.

  We would leave at ten-thirty in the morning. I wanted to synchronize our moving through backyards with the approximate time the air conditioning units would turn on, usually around eleven o'clock. I was hoping the air conditioning would mask any sounds we'd make.

  I never mentioned the Swimmer to them. I didn't want to frighten them too much, and I doubted we'd run into him.

  I was as thorough as I could be, and when I finished, I asked them if they had any questions. Raj was the only one who spoke up.

  "Yes, Jake. If there are too many infected on the road to the underpass, then I turn around and come back and I park the car on the block behind Sarah's block. Is that right?"

  Raj was leaning forward, a serious, attentive look on his face. "Yes," I told him. "You'll park in the driveway of the same house I got the salmon fillets from. It's the fifth house from the corner. No one lives there anymore. I'll show you exactly where it is. And remember, if we have to go there, you'll back the car into the driveway."

  It was one of the contingency plans I'd come up with if anything went awry after we'd left. I
didn't want Raj parking in Sarah's driveway in the off chance the Swimmer happened to spot us while we were in the car.

  "Okay, Jake," Raj said.

  "I don't think it'll come to that, Raj," I told him. "But it's good to have a plan in case we need to come back."

  No one else had any questions. But as they headed back to the storage room, Becky grabbed her mother by the wrist and pulled her down and whispered something in her ear. Sarah gave me a brief, expressionless glance. "Okay," she whispered to Becky.

  Becky hustled to her playroom and came back holding a small brown bear. She sat on the edge of the coffee table with the bear in her lap.

  "This is Ralphy," she told me, keeping her voice low. "Ralphy's getting kind of old. He's been with me a really long time. I'm not sure how well he'd do if he had to stay here all alone. So, I was just wondering if Ralphy could come with us."

  She picked up Ralphy and hugged him tightly to her chest, and she gave me one of those sad-eyed looks children are so good at when they want to manipulate you. I'd seen the look a million times at Beacon Heights. The bear was about the size of a catcher's mitt and wouldn't weigh much at all.

  "Does he eat much?" I asked her.

  "Oh no," she said hurriedly. Then she realized I was kidding. "You know stuffed bears don't eat anything. They're not real."

  "They don't? Well, as long as he doesn't eat too much, I suppose Ralphy can come along."

  Becky smiled happily. "Thank you," she said.

  Then she gave me a pensive look. "I know I'm kind of old for stuffed animals."

  I could tell she was waiting for me to share my opinion on the subject. "Not really," I told her. "I know grown women who still have stuffed animals." And that was true.

  "Can I ask you a question, Becky?"

  "Sure."

  "How do you feel about having to leave your home? Are you okay with that?" I asked.

  "Yeah. It's all right, I guess," she said. "I mean, we're doing the right thing." And she said it with conviction.

  "Okay. I was just wondering."

  Satisfied, Becky headed into the storage room, lugging Ralphy with her.

  There was something they weren't telling me, but I didn't press them about it. As long as I could get them to where we were going safely, that's all I cared about.

  Chapter 13

  Upland Drive

  I worked my way toward the street between the homes. The two-story wall shaded me from the mid-morning sun. I felt electric. I was brimming with energy, my senses crisp and alert. I felt all jacked up, energized to the nth degree.

  I attributed my newfound alacrity to stress. It amped me up and had me on edge. It was the kind of stress that sharpens the mind and tunes the senses. I used to get this way before taking tests in college, especially tests where I was well prepared. I'd be all hyped up. The stress of test taking would fill me with a nervous energy. I was on edge in a good way, mentally brisk and ready to go. And I knew all I'd need to do was focus my energy on the test taking. It was the same now. All I needed to do was focus my energy on the task at hand.

  There were no bushes between the homes, just a strip of soft, ankle-deep grass, yellowing but still green at the roots. No sprinklers in use here. A thin breeze teased the morning air, then vanished in a heartbeat. Before I approached the front edge of the house, I crouched low and listened carefully. None of the air conditioners had come on yet. It was quiet save for the far-off murmur of the infected. Their persistent grumbling moans were distant enough to sound like the soft hiss of white noise. And if you paid too much attention to it, it would drive you crazy.

  The street was clear. If we had to come back for any reason, this was the street we would park on. I was here now because I hadn't been able to see the street clearly from the back windows at Sarah's house.

  I glanced at my watch. It was five after ten. The plan called for precise timing for the first leg of the journey. I had twenty-five minutes to get into position where 31st East t-boned into Craig Drive. When I got there, I'd make sure the streets were clear, then I'd text them the signal to go.

  For once, I jogged through the backyards. It wasn't too hot yet, and I ran at an easy pace that would get me there in plenty of time. I had a couple blocks to travel but no streets to cross. I moved quickly through the yards and kept my eyes on the ground to make sure I didn't trip over anything. It felt good to be climbing fences again, and my energy level remained high.

  After fifteen minutes, I spotted the athletic field north of Wasatch Junior High. The grass had grown wild there. They used the field for soccer games and the goals were still set up. I was getting close. I figured three to four more houses. As it turned out, three was the magic number.

  It was another two-story with a mix of brick and vinyl siding. From behind the side fence on the east side of the house, I could see straight down 31st East. I had a perfect view with cover. An old elm tree in the front helped obscure my position. I had a view just underneath its lower branches.

  I was a couple minutes early. The fence was too far back for me to have a clear view of Craig Drive. When the time came, I'd have to climb over the fence and make sure Craig Drive was clear too. I slipped my backpack off and set it down on the grass against the fence. I took out my binoculars. I stepped on the fence's lower support beam and lifted myself above the top slats of the fence. Once up, I could see all the way down 31st East to 39th South. I kept my position steady and made sure not to move a muscle. As long as I remained still, I wouldn't be noticed.

  31st East was clear to 39th South, but there was a group of infected trudging up 39th South toward the underpass there. The street was thick with them. I adjusted my binoculars to get a clearer view. Their faces were dark and bony and hollow, their clothes filthy and ragged. They seemed to drag their desiccated bodies along through pure will power. I watched them as they stumbled up 39th South.

  I'd wait till they cleared 31st East before texting Sarah. I wondered if they were headed in that direction because of the gunshots from the other night.

  I checked my watch. It was ten-thirty. I told them I'd text them at ten-thirty as long as the streets were clear. I hoped they wouldn't be too stressed if I didn't text them on time.

  It was nearly five minutes before the last stragglers cleared 31st East. About fifty or sixty infected had passed by during those five minutes. I waited thirty seconds to make sure they were gone, then grabbed my backpack and lifted myself over the fence. I moved to the front edge of the house and scouted Craig Drive both ways. The street was quiet and empty. Nothing moved. I moved up behind the trunk of the elm and squatted down.

  I took my iPhone out and texted Sarah a simple message: "Go."

  I'd given them explicit instructions centered around minimizing the noise they'd make with the car when they left. I watched them with my binoculars. Sarah was the last one out of the house and she locked the door behind her just as I had the day I left the condo. Raj quietly opened the back door on the driver's side and they all climbed in. I'd told them to open just one door and to keep it open. Raj and Becky settled in the front seats and Sarah in the back. They buckled their seat belts and Raj started the car. Sarah held the back door open.

  Last night I'd told Raj to drive slowly at all times, and he backed out of the driveway at a snail's pace.

  I slipped my backpack on and buckled it quietly. I kept the binoculars handy. I'd need them when we got to the underpass. When the Corolla was half a block away, I walked out to the street to wait for them. I kept checking the streets in each direction, but the streets were empty. I felt a little jumpy. I was still bristling with energy and intensely alert.

  When Raj pulled up, I opened back door just enough to climb in.

  He turned onto 31st East and drove slowly toward the four-way stop. No infected in sight. So far, so good. The inside of the car felt like an oven. The car had been sitting in the driveway baking in the mid-morning heat, the hot air trapped inside. It might have been approaching ninety degre
es outside, but it was even warmer in the car.

  Raj approached the four-way stop cautiously. He eased the car just past the stop sign. We all looked both ways, but there was nothing to see. The street sign said Upland Drive. Raj turned left and headed for the underpass.

  Becky and Raj's attention were focused on the underpass up ahead, three blocks away. Sarah's too. I kept the car door cracked open a couple inches. A half a block ahead was a side street. As we came to it, I glanced left but saw nothing, just rows of shuttered-up middle class homes. But when I glanced right, I could see eight of them shuffling aimlessly in a front yard, fifth house down. A couple more were stepping through a shattered picture window on the front porch. I noticed at least two other homes on the block had been broken into. One of the infected turned to look as we passed by. He was tall and slack jawed and his lean head was tilted to the side.

  Sarah must have sensed me looking because she suddenly turned her head to look before we passed the side street. And when she turned back around, for the first time, I saw fear in her eyes. Surprise, fear, even some anger. And it struck me that Sarah was much like I had been in the beginning—surprised to see them and never expecting anything could go wrong.

  I had an inclination to reach over and touch Sarah lightly on the arm to reassure her but thought better of it. Instead, I raised my hand discretely in a calming gesture only Sarah could see. "It's okay," I silently mouthed to her. I didn't want Raj or Becky to know about the group of infected and I wanted Sarah to understand that. I didn't want to frighten Raj or Becky. I had no idea how they might react. While Sarah seemed agitated, she wasn't wild with fear or anything. And maybe it was good she'd seen them. I'd never gotten the impression that Raj or Sarah truly understood the danger.

  Raj babied the car along at twenty miles per hour. I thought about whispering to him to go faster, but I didn't want to alert him that something might be wrong. Besides, I didn't see the group behind us as a legitimate threat. At least not now.