The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side

by A. S. Thompson

  "So this place is a complete flop," Alex commented as he removed the blade of his machete from a man's neck. "Looters jacked everything. Travis said the cabinets were wiped clean, and the shotguns and rifles were taken out of the racks, too. Seriously though, who makes a locked hunting case out of glass? Freakin' rich people, I tell ya."

  A few feet away, lie the body of a slain woman.

  "Someone's pretty quiet tonight. Well, more than usual," Alex said, walking over. He saw Nick, distraught, staring at the woman. "What's wrong?"

  "It's nothing," Nick replied, cleaning his blade in the murky waters of the pool.

  "Come on, man, what gives?"

  Nick closed his eyes. "This woman, she reminds me of someone I used to know. It doesn't matter. We should continue with our security walk.”

  "Wait up, Nick," Alex said, swashing his blade into the pool.

  "Used to know? Come on, man, you gotta give me a little more than that. I've taken out friend-look-alikes and I'm sure you have too, but never have I batted an eye. I've never known you to either."

  Nick did not reply.

  "Seriously, you're like one of the bravest dudes I know. What are you so spooked about? Who was she?”

  Nick stopped walking. He righted a pool chair and sat at the edge. "You once asked me why I gave up my job in Wyoming and moved to Washington.”

  “Ya?”

  “There was an accident. Something terrible happened. It's been thirty years now..."

  Alex found a seat on the concrete in front of Nick. He wanted to press and ask, "What happened?" but he let Nick tell it in his time.

  "I was going to propose to my girlfriend on a sunset flight over the valley. I had every detail planned out. I was going to circle over our favorite spot, then take out the ring and ask her. Everything was perfect. It was beautiful that day. For a November, there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Temperature was fine, no worry for frost or wind gusts. Before she arrived, I inspected the single engine prop myself like I always did. The plane checked out but-"

  Nick's lower lip quivered, stopping him.

  "Take your time."

  "Then it all went bad," he exhaled. "I took off and, and not even a minute into the ascent everything shut down. The electrical, the engines, all gone. These planes are able to glide and all pilots train for this, but you can't really know until you're in it. I couldn’t return to the airport, and there wasn't enough time to search for the best landing spot, so I just did what I could..."

  Then came the first tear; a long dribble down his leathery skin.

  "The landing was rough, the wheels snapped off and one of the wings was ripped off on contact, but I kept the plane right side up. At some point, though, I got knocked out. Altogether, the crash would have been best case scenario, but when I woke up, I looked over and saw her there. She was already gone. A branch broke through the glass and struck her in the chest. I hoped she died without any pain, but her hand holding onto my jacket makes me think otherwise."

  "Nick, you can't blame yourself for any of it. That's a freak accident. There's nothing you could have done."

  "It was my fault. She hated flying and only went because I begged her to. They never figured out what caused the failure, but it didn't matter. I was the one who made her go."

  Alex didn't have a rebuttal.

  "After it happened, I couldn't face her family or my friends or her gravesite. Everything reminded me of her. So I moved to be done with it all."

  "That woman," Alex said, looking back toward the cold body resting beside the pool, "she reminded you of your fiancé, didn't she?"

  Nick nodded subtly. He looked up at the starry sky and wiped his face.

  "Nick, I'm so sorry for prying. I had no idea."

  A nearby shriek of pain prompted both men to spring to their feet. Nick led the way to the side yard of the house, rounding the stone pathway to a garbage area where they nearly collided into Dylan.

  "What happened?" Nick asked, while scanning the area with his light. "Infected?"

  Dylan was helping Ally to her feet. "No, not infected."

  "I accidentally twisted my ankle," Ally answered. "I slipped and tried to catch my balance, but I overcompensated and rolled it."

  "May I?" Nick asked dropping to a knee.

  "Sure.”

  Nick untied her shoe and tenderly inspected the area. He began asking questions gauging her pain and range of motion. After, he put the shoe on and said, "Doesn't look like anything is broken. You said it was painful to put any weight on it, correct?"

  "Ya, I can put it flat on the ground but any weight and it hurts. The pain is manageable, but I'd rather not if I didn't have to."

  "My guess is a light sprain. Make sure you stay off it as much as possible."

  "Well that sucks. Thanks for checking, Nick."

  "Just be glad it isn't worse. You always were a klutz, sis.”

  "Ally, I'll go get you a brace. Dylan, stay with her until I get back, okay?"

  "You sure I can't leave her out here to work on her walking skills?"

  "Thanks, Nick, and shut up, Dyl."

  Alex by his side, Nick led the way to the front door.

  "What is it, Alex? I can feel you staring."

  True, Alex couldn't keep his eyes off Nick. "I-I just, I mean what happened between you and your girlfriend...It's tragic, but you can't blame yourself. From what you told me, there's no way it was your fault. Shitty things just happen, shit I should know," he said, holding up his hand.

  "If it's okay with you, I'd rather us talk about something else."

  "Ya, I understand."

  "How are you doing?"

  The Alex of old would have put on a false front. He would have maintained the tough exterior, and told Nick he was feeling fine, but Nick was a close friend and after Nick's story, it only seemed fair and right. He stopped and leaned against the wall.

  "Honestly, I'm kinda freaking out. Collin didn’t even make it forty-eight hours and I'm coming up on twelve or so? I feel okay, I really do. Every once in a while, I have these coughing spells, but I keep telling myself it's from the smoke, but I think we both know that's how it starts, and just my luck.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I get bit right after things are going so well with Lisa, right after I finally came clean with Collin. I can't bear the thought of leaving her or any of you guys, Steve too, especially after all the shit he's going through."

  Alex's chin had sunken to his chest.

  "Alex," Nick said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You are strong. That strength runs deep in your family."

  "Thanks, but I don't think mental fortitude can beat Trinity."

  "You'd be surprised at what the mind is capable of. Emotions are the driving force in life, and love above them all. The love Collin showed me…I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to get you the vaccine. Collin saved my life, and I plan to repay that debt, but you have to fight, you have to stay positive, you have to want to live. Use what you feel for Steve and Lisa."

  Nick's reassuring smile comforted Alex, at least for the moment. He wrapped his arm around Alex and the two men finished their walk to the front.

  All three vehicles had been pulled into the residence and the gate closed behind them. Travis was walking back after setting up a line of cans and noisemakers.

  "How's it looking around the perimeter?" the second lieutenant asked, testing out the crude but effective early warning device.

  "We tracked some prints and found a couple walkers and one crawler. I wouldn't suggest setting up a home here, but for the night, we should be pretty safe."

  "Agreed. Oh, and so you guys know, West handed down the schedule. For the front, I'm on first shift. Steve is taking over at ten until we head out. In the back, Charlie is up first and Kim will replace him. Looks like you guys drew the good straws."

  "Look at that, I didn't even have to draw," Alex said, smiling. "Maybe my luck is getting better."

  **
*

  "Knock, knock," Alex said, stopping by the first of three rooms.

  Inside and under candlelight, Marilyn and Christopher were preparing for bed.

  "We are about to lock down for the night. If you guys need anything, just holler on the radio. Someone will be on the other end."

  At first, Alex wasn't sure why Marilyn wasn't moving to accept the radio. Then he realized the device was in his bitten hand, and the blood-blotted bandage wasn't exactly inviting.

  "Just leave it by the door," Marilyn said timidly.

  "Right," Alex mumbled, bending over to set it down, "ya, sure thing. Sleep tight."

  Alex moved to the room across the hall and pushed the door open only far enough to ask, "Everyone decent?"

  Kelly’s girlish voice was distinct. "Ya, come in.”

  Inside, Kelly was pulling back the sheets of the king-sized bed, ready to close her eyes and end the day. Meanwhile, Lisa was sitting up with Jenny who was refusing to go to sleep.

  "But I'm not tired-"

  "I know, Jenny, but you should get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow."

  "Argh, okay," Jenny said, finally adhering to the request. She rolled toward the headboard, but before sliding under the sheets, she took out a handgun and placed it on the nightstand.

  "Whoa, Jenny, what are you doing with that?" Alex asked disbelievingly. He went to pick it up, but Jenny beat him to it.

  She held the gun against her chest and said, "No, it’s mine! I got it from the RV. It was an extra one."

  Lisa had not seen Alex’s lips when she, too, asked, "What are you doing with that?"

  "It's for protection."

  "Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Alex sighed. "Come on, Jenny, hand it over. It's not safe for you to have. You could get hurt, or hurt someone."

  She scooted away from Alex’s outstretched hand. "No! I don't get why I can't have one! I should be able to protect everyone just like you guys! I can do it, I really can!"

  Alex ran a hand through his hair.I'm too tired to deal with this, he thought. "Fine, whatever, but just for tonight. Handling guns is serious business. Tomorrow we'll talk about it."

  Satisfied, Jenny placed the 9mm pistol back on the stand. She pulled up the blanket and laid on her side, staring at the gun like it was a clock.

  Lisa pulled Alex to the bathroom. The carpet ended into a section of white, glimmering tile. "That girl is stubborn."

  "Looks like it. Hey, Lis, promise me you'll watch over her. Make sure she doesn't hurt anyone, or herself."

  "Does that mean we aren't sleeping together tonight?"

  "Well, maybe you can tuck me in?"

  "I'll meet you at the room downstairs on the left," she said, as though she already had the night, and its activities, planned out. She lifted his head and looked at his eyes and the bags that hung below them. "You look exhausted, so I'll make sure we don't stay up too late. When it comes to us and getting, well, more intimate, I know you don’t want to infect me, but I’ve been thinking about it, and let’s just say for now, my hands can safely accomplish what my other lady parts can’t-"

  "Alex," came a call from the bedroom.

  "Yes, Jenny?"

  "Is Steve still awake? Can I see him?"

  "I'm not sure, I'll check for you though."

  "Okay," she said, eyes moving back to the gun.

  Alex kissed Lisa’s hand and said, "I'll see you in a bit."

  "Okay, I'll be here."

  "Just the man I’ve been looking for,” Nick said, catching Alex as he exited the girls’ room. “Everything alright?”

  Alex opted not to discuss Jenny and the gun. “Ya, everything is fine. How's Ally?"

  "Good, I braced up her ankle. She should be fine." Nick followed Alex further down the hallway. "You heading to the meeting?"

  "I wasn't planning on it. I'm looking for Steve," Alex said, joining Nick on the walk to the last bedroom.

  Upon entering, Alex and Nick caught the tail end of the group conversation. "We would have been better off sleeping on the road."

  Steve stood off to the side, but Jones, West, Agents Clint and Kim, Matty, and Charlie all stood, circling the six-foot mahogany desk. Maps, notes, and illustrations had replaced the computer and office supplies.

  "I designed Eden to be an escape for the elites of society," Jones rebutted. "It was never meant to be a fortress to hideout from virus-infected cannibals. Agent Clint, you're an idiot to assume otherwise. But if anyone should be upset, it's me. My house is ruined. Everything has been stolen. I bet you it was those damn Mormons coming over from Utah. Shady little bastards they are. First, they come to your house and play innocent and helpful, but I know they are secretly conniving-"

  "Jones, enough," West declared, but Jones wasn't finished.

  "And then there's this asshole.”

  "Me?" Alex questioned, pointing at himself. "What did I do?"

  "Besides ruin my beautiful carpet with your muddy boots? Were you raised by wolves?"

  "Yes, dirty, filthy wolves," Alex replied, unsympathetically dragged his feet increasing the stains. "Get over your shit, man, it's only carpet, and in case you hadn't noticed, the rest of your house is trashed."

  Jones' face reddened. "What are you even doing in here anyway? Shouldn't you be confined to the car? Or somewhere where you can't wake up in the middle of the night and eat us?"

  "Hey, fuck-head," Alex declared, stepping closer to the desk, "I'm still me!"

  "Maybe for now.” Contrary to previous interactions, Jones actually stepped closer to Alex and pointed at his face. "Maybe not for much longer. Your right eye seems a little red and veiny."

  Alex blinked and casually looked away. "I'm just tired. I haven't slept in almost two days."

  Jones cast a dubious expression. "Right. You say tired, I say infection. My house, my rules, and I say you sleep outside."

  "Look, I fought alongside Alex in Vancouver,” Charlie began, “and the kid saved our lives there. I'm not cool with this whole banishment idea you’re promoting. Kid's been bitten; he hasn't changed yet. I say he sleeps where he wants."

  "Besides, you promised us a safe place with supplies," Nick said, coming to Alex's support next. "All I see is a rundown house that's been sacked of all its food and weapons. If anyone should be questioned, it's you."

  "Says the friend of the dying man; cute and heartbreaking. Still doesn't change the fact he's been infected!"

  "They have a point," Clint said, joining solely out of frustration. "We wasted time and supplies clearing this house and all you could come up with was a wall-safe filled almost entirely with useless stuff..."

  He held up each item at a time.

  "Stack of a hundred thousand in cash, good for a fire starter. Twenty ounces of gold, paperweights. The five-thousand dollar Kimber handgun, good, but you only have twenty bullets. These two satellite phones would be great if we were split up or in the middle of nowhere, but we aren't. And what’s this? A picture of your mom?"

  Dylan looked over Clint’s shoulder. “Well, I think it’s safe to say you didn’t get your looks from your mother’s side.”

  "She’s not my mom, she’s…never mind!” Jones exclaimed, snatching the picture and sliding it delicately into his pocket. “And one of those sat phones is staying with me.”

  "Who are you going to call when shit hits the fan?"

  "My insurance company, Agent Kim.”

  "Seriously, do those things even work? Isn't the network crashed?"

  "Not my network," Jones said, picking up both phones to prove it. He tossed one to Agent Kim.

  "Don't these things only work outside?"

  "Not these," he replied, dialing the preprogrammed number. "Mine were specially made to work with the network I purchased as well. They operate everywhere and the batteries last forever."

  Moments later, and to everyone's surprise, the bulky phone in Kim's hand lit up with an incoming call.

  Jones hung up and said, "As I said, I will have one phone with me at
all times. Just in case."

  "Enough!" West declared, slamming his fist onto the wood. "One will go with the RV and the other with the Suburban. That’s the last I want to hear about the phones!"

  Jones mumbled spiteful words, intent on keeping his volume low, but West caught the sentence, "Stupid ape always makes all the calls."

  "Excuse you?"

  "I got this," Nick said, staring daggers at Jones. "Are you already forgetting our talk back at Camp? Your bigotry will not be tolerated."

  "Oh, come on-"

  "And racism aside, do you remember our discussion regarding usefulness? About being part of the group and holding its best interests first? You just made us drive seventeen miles out of the way to secure a house that was not worth the risk or the time wasted. So before you speak next time, mind your words and make sure they are worth it. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Yes," Jones grumbled. He chose his next words carefully. "Still, I feel it would be in the group's best interest to consider Alex's role, and his timeline, here among us."

  Nick went to say something, but Alex held up his hand. "It's cool. I appreciate the sentiment from everyone, but I'm not gonna stay. I'm beyond tired, and I just wanted to talk with Steve for a second."

  ***

  "Wherever the President intended to go, we would receive detailed layouts of such locations. From sewage systems to building plans, we reviewed everything in order to defend the President from every possible threat- that was before the outbreak. Since then, we haven't had those luxuries," Agent Clint said, spinning a drawing toward the others. "I have been working on a map from memory. We choppered to the Ambrosia facility, and I was right next to the President the entire time. I remember the interior layout more or less. It’s the exterior that I'm not sure about. It was pitch black that night.”

  West studied the drawing. “Is there anything specific, anything at all that you remember about the exterior? Fences? Dogs? Cameras? Scanners?”

  “Like I said, I was inside with the President. The other members of my team would know better, but they are back at Blue Springs, dead.”