by Gibb, Lew
“Where are you, Rachel?”
Mandy perked up at the name, and her tail thumped the floor twice. It sounded like a gavel pounding out a death sentence. Rachel should have been able to make it home. He and Holly had been as far south as they could get and still be in Denver, and they’d made it home even with all those detours. He couldn’t imagine Rachel running into even more trouble than he had.
“Maybe you want to give them some dinner?” Holly’s voice surprised Jerry and pulled him out of his cycle of negativity.
He hadn’t even heard her come in. Holly’s hair was still a little damp from the same bleach and water bath he’d given the dogs. He still couldn’t believe the amount of blood and gore that had gotten on their fur. He hoped Dr. Mendez was right and contamination with blood wouldn’t matter, only saliva would. This would be a good thing, since they’d all been almost as gore-covered as the dogs after dealing with Picke’s zombie commandos. He sure hoped none of the zombies had slobbered on him.
He almost didn’t catch what Holly said next. “She must be hungry after ripping all those zombies to shreds.” She gave him a hopeful smile.
Kodi had returned from his patrol. He trotted up to Holly and bumped his head against her thigh in greeting. Then he circled back and leaned his body against Jerry, almost knocking him over, and started licking Mandy’s head.
Jerry couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to feed the dogs. “Thanks, Holly.” He had one hand on each dog’s back, kneading their fur in his fists. Their presence simultaneously comforted him and caused another wave of emptiness to crash over him. “You probably think it’s ridiculous to be so attached to a dog.”
“No. I get it. Mandy’s been with you for how long?”
“Six years. Since I first met Rachel.” He gave her an abbreviated synopsis of their first date. “If it hadn’t been for Mandy, we might not have hit it off.”
“So she’s definitely family, like an adopted kid.”
“Exactly. Only you can’t leave a six year old home alone without getting thrown in jail.” Jerry tried a weak smile at his standard reply when people asked him why he didn’t have kids yet.
She gave him a too bright smile, as if she thought she could cure the zombie virus with her optimism. “I don’t see why they aren’t immune if it really did come from rabies. You should get something to eat, too. Maria made this amazing flatbread pizza on the grill.”
“Are you sure you’re only seventeen?” Jerry said, shaking his head. Rachel would have said she had an old soul.
Holly laughed and punched him in the arm. “And I haven’t thought about boys or clothes since the hospital.”
Jerry smiled, his heart lightening for just a moment, then stood. The dogs perked up and got that what adventure are we going on now look, a little wide-eyed and panting. He scratched their heads, feeling comforted and sad because Rachel couldn’t see them. “I think I will get these guys some food. But then I think I’ll just hang out with them for a little while longer. I’ve got a lot to think about.”
Holly didn’t look too happy about him staying on his own. She nodded and patted his shoulder. “Let me know if you want to talk. Okay?”
Three hours later, Jerry was tossing and turning in his own bed. He so wanted to be with Mandy. She had looked so confused when he’d left her alone next door. He’d spent as much time as he dared with her, but he couldn’t chance Kodi getting infected if Mandy changed. He wasn’t sure he cared about himself.
After he’d closed the door in Mandy’s face, Jerry couldn’t bring himself to talk. He’d ignored everyone and went straight to his bedroom. Kodi had slipped in just before he’d closed the door. The big dog tried his best, but things were too bad for Jerry to be easily cheered up. Jerry felt even worse than he had when he’d first noticed the zombie bite on Mandy’s leg.
He rolled over and picked up the picture of himself and Rachel that sat on her bedside table. It was from a camping trip they’d taken to the Holy Cross Wilderness during their first year of dating. The happiness in her eyes reminded him of how much fun the trip had been, even though nothing went as planned. They got a late start, forgot half their supplies, and had to get by for three days with random “picnic food” as Rachel called it—cheese and crackers Lunchables, jerky, granola, and several jars of the owner’s home made pickled vegetables—from the last convenience store before the trailhead. The plan was to summit Mount Holy Cross, but when they finally started hiking, they got on the wrong trail—although they didn’t realize it until they topped a ridge and got a fantastic view of their destination, two valleys over from where they were supposed to be.
One of the best things about Rachel was her ability to make the best in any situation. She told him it was all in the mindset. If you focused on how things were wrong, you never saw how right things could be. Jerry had a little more difficulty accepting this reverse psychology, especially when a goal he had in mind became unattainable. Rachel’s optimism usually pulled him from his funk and made him realize there were unexpected benefits to things not going the way they’d planned. Like how not being on the way to the top of a mountain became a chance to explore for its own sake in an area that was just as beautiful, if not more so, than where they had originally been headed. And they had the outdoors to themselves instead of sharing it with the crowds that packed the trails leading to the state’s fourteeners all summer. It was one of the best trips they’d ever done. They had wandered their secret valley and picnicked among the late-blooming flowers, lying in the grass and describing the animals they saw in the clouds forming above. He wondered if the two of them would ever enjoy another “disaster” together.
“Where are you, Rachel?” he whispered, clutching the picture and curling up on his side. Kodi hopped up and smashed himself against Jerry’s side. Then he let out a big sigh as if to say, I hear you, Jerry, this does suck, and rested his head on Jerry’s shoulder.
The dogs would always try to cheer him or Rachel up when one of them was feeling down. Usually, they would do something goofy, like flinging a toy in the air and catching it or standing in Jerry’s lap and licking his face. Jerry inevitably felt better just having them around. This time, though, Mandy’s possible contamination made him feel Rachel’s absence even more.
“I’m not sure you can help, big guy.” Jerry scratched the dog’s big bunny ears—another example of Rachel making lemonade from lemons. They were the longest ears he’d seen on any dog, and they stuck straight up. Rachel, in her typical positive way, said it was so much easier to find the car when you had a nice landmark. Jerry patted Kodi’s head a couple times. “The only thing that’s going to fix this is getting Rachel back.”
Why wasn’t she back? The confrontation with Zebulan Picke nagged at him. He didn’t know people even named their kids things like that anymore. Of course, that might not have been his real name, and there was the fact that the guy didn’t know how to spell the name correctly. Granted, the first name wasn’t easy, but the last was a no-brainer, especially since every other business in southern Colorado seemed to be named after the famous explorer’s namesake mountain: Pike’s Peak Auto Detailing; Pike’s Peak Liquors; there was even a rock band called Zebulon Pike. More likely, Picke had changed his name after the apocalypse, an attempt to remake himself by appropriating a courageous man’s name, hoping it would make the world view him as something more in keeping with the fantasy in his head.
Was his pedantic focus on the guy’s name a way to belittle the man, try to make him less worrisome? It wouldn’t be a good idea to underestimate him. Just because he had been given—or worse yet, chosen—a weird name he couldn’t spell, didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. That was obvious from the way he had tracked them down and nearly killed them with a mob of zombies.
Jerry couldn’t imagine what Picke would think of Rachel. In the movies, and often in real life, the extremist cult leader guys always had medieval views on women and their place in society. Rachel wouldn’t put up with any mis
ogynistic nonsense. Jerry had no doubt his wife could handle the skinny little weasel in a one-on-one fight but Picke might have followers or catch her by surprise.
The more time that went by without Rachel appearing, the more horrible things Jerry’s subconscious came up with and the more he doubted his ability to continue without her. It had been almost four days since the apocalypse had started. Something must have happened to keep her away.
What if Picke had her? She could be a captive in that building, not fifteen blocks away, needing Jerry’s help while he sat warm and comfortable in their bed not doing a thing to protect her from the likes of Zebulan Picke or others who could be even worse. Not bringing her home and keeping her safe. Not even looking for her.
He realized there was a way to find out where she might be. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it earlier. It was probably because they were so conditioned to rely on technology that his mind hadn’t even registered the low-tech solution.
He scrambled out of bed and threw open the door. The three rescued kids were in the living room playing a board game with the Vigil kids. The five of them stared at him as he hustled past. He could only imagine what they must have thought of him, the guy who’d gone crazy and shut himself in his room without even eating any pizza.
The two girls, Katherine and Erin, had been having a slumber party when Katherine’s older sister had come home with two friends to change and get ready for a party. They had been bitten during the last class of the day at school when a boy had gone crazy and bitten Katherine’s sister and then her two friends when they tried to help.
Jerry kept moving, heading for the home office in the spare bedroom.
Holly came in as he was crossing the room. She frowned when she saw his face and followed him into the office. “Jerry? What’s going on with you?”
He didn’t answer but started to rifle through the papers on the desk, looking for a contract or a bill, anything that would tell him were Rachel had been working when the zombies took over. She always had a folder for receipts and a hard copy of the contract. He cursed his dependence on the electronic calendar to let him know where she was.
“Jerry,” Holly tried again, putting her hands on the desktop and leaning toward him, her face inches from his. “Talk to me.”
“I have to find Rachel.” He spotted a folder with the date of the apocalypse on its tab and opened it. “She’s still out there, and I have to help her.”
Alberto appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on?” he said, leaning against the door jamb and crossing his arms.
Holly said, “Jerry wants to go looking for Rachel.”
Alberto frowned. “Jerry, my friend. We have talked about this. What good does it do Rachel for you to go out and get yourself killed or turned into a zombie?”
Jerry plucked a piece of paper from the folder and waved it over the desk. “Here’s the contract.” He read the first lines. “She was in Boulder. She would have had to pass right through Picke’s domain.” Jerry gave the last word all the sarcasm he could muster as he started back around the desk. Now that he knew she might have crossed paths with Picke, he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. Rachel needed him.
“You don’t know that,” Holly said. She moved to block his path to the door and straight-armed him in the chest. Jerry staggered back. He hadn’t expected such a strong move. “What if she took another route?”
“What if she didn’t? And now she’s a prisoner?” A scene flashed through his mind: Rachel chained in a warehouse, huddling on a dirty concrete floor with a bunch of other unfortunate captives, waiting to find out what the would-be cult leader would do to them. “I don’t expect you guys to go with me. It’s my problem.”
“It is our problem,” Alberto said. He stepped past Holly and rested one of his big hands on each of Jerry’s shoulders. “Your problems are our problems. We will help you. But we can’t just rush into this without knowing what we’re getting into.”
“I can’t just sit here,” Jerry said, his voice rising in a whine. He hated how much like a six year old he sounded.
“How about this?” Alberto said, looping an arm around Jerry’s shoulder and pulling him into a firm one-armed hug that also felt like Alberto’s subtle way of keeping Jerry from bolting. “We wait until the morning, then take the MRAP up to Picke’s area. It will be much safer, and we will have more pairs of eyes.”
Holly looked at Jerry and smiled that “let’s all get on board” smile. “We could swing by the stadium to look for another MRAP like you were saying earlier. Maybe even go get the supplies from the ambulance.” She met his eyes. Hers were glassy. “Come on, Jerry. Let us help you.”
Jerry blew out a long breath. “Okay.” He nodded and dropped the paper on the desk. “But I’m leaving at first light.”
“Excellent!” Holly stepped up and gave him a hug.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Instead of running away from his building the way he’d planned, Jerry could barely put one foot in front of the other. He inched along, feeling his way along a street he thought he knew so he wouldn’t trip over some unseen obstacle or body part. Deep shadows congealed against the buildings and beneath the trees. The extreme darkness had caught him off guard.
Before the end of their world, they’d been able to move around whenever they wanted. Rachel even complained about not being able to see any but the brightest stars. The city’s ambient light, reflecting off the clouds and shining from the surrounding buildings, had overpowered the stars but also made it possible to walk the dogs or navigate home from a night out without ever needing a flashlight or even feeling like he couldn’t see everything he needed to.
Now Kodi and Mandy were nothing but dog-shaped patches of lighter blackness, more felt than seen, even though they were all but plastered to Jerry’s legs. They’d been that way since he’d tiptoed from the apartment.
Even as Jerry had been gathering his gear at just-past three a.m. by the light of his dying phone’s screen, Kodi seemed to understand something was up. The big dog had parked himself by the door as if to say, “Don’t even think about leaving without me.” Mandy’s nose had poked through the opening as soon as Jerry opened the door to her quarantine cell as if she’d been waiting for him to open the door. Jerry could never figure out exactly what tipped them off, but every time they had a trip planned, the dogs would be waiting by the front door long before Jerry or Rachel did anything that could be classified as preparation for the trip. It shouldn’t have surprised him since he’d read more than a few articles about how the dogs’ evolutionary advantage was reading their humans’ intentions.
Their exit from the apartment had been nearly silent, thanks to the concrete floor’s lack of telltale squeaks. Letting Mandy out of quarantine early had given him some tense moments. Her whimpers of excitement when he’d arrived at the door had sounded a lot like zombie-hunting calls. The smart thing would have been to leave her in quarantine until he came back. But obviously, he wasn’t doing the smart thing here. He was doing what he knew he had to. Besides, the more he thought about it, the more the idea that the dogs’ rabies shots would make them immune seemed likely. He acknowledged he was doing some major rationalizing and making the decision with his emotions rather than logic. But Kodi didn’t seem to show any of the rabid zombie hatred from before, so he decided Mandy was virus free. Besides, Rachel would kill him if he showed up to rescue her without bringing both her babies along, whether one was a zombie or not.
Kodi advanced a few steps ahead, his attention focused on a doorway-shaped patch of darkness and his ears at rigid attention. Mandy leaned against Jerry’s leg, quivering. Before the display the dogs had put on with the zombies earlier, he would have thought Mandy was afraid, but he now realized she was excited about the hunt. Jerry rested a hand on the hilt of his claymore and realized he should have been carrying the thing all along. An indistinct, darker lump at the bottom left corner of the rectangle made him veer wide. He kept moving whil
e keeping an eye on the dark blob that was almost certainly a sleeping zombie and pulled his sword free. Kodi shifted a little as Jerry tiptoed past but didn’t attack. Jerry realized he was keeping himself positioned between his master and the threat.
Then a flash of white in the doorway caught his eye. Whether it was from the zombie’s eyes popping open or because its mouth was opening in preparation for a scream and revealing its teeth, Jerry wasn’t sure. He didn’t get a chance to figure it out because his view of the doorway was blocked by Kodi’s body flying into the pool of blackness. A strangled screech, cut off suddenly and replaced by a low growl, was the only sound. Then Kodi was shaking his head so hard his backside was moving back and forth. He pulled the struggling zombie into the street and Jerry’s paramedic brain noted that the activation of his sympathetic nervous system was causing his eyes to dilate, making it easier to see, and ramping up his heart rate so he could fight or flee.
Then the zombie caught a fistful of fur on either side of Kodi’s neck and started to open its mouth. Jerry took a step toward the pair, raising his sword over his head and trying to decide if he should go for the neck or the kidneys. He didn’t get the chance to do anything. Kodi’s head jerked back, and the zombie flopped to the ground. Its head made a dull thud when it hit the pavement. Kodi dropped the chunk of dead zombie in his jaws, shook, and turned to face Jerry. His tongue lolled from his bloodstained muzzle, and he looked very proud of himself. Mandy ran over, gave him a body-check that seemed congratulatory, and the two of them returned to Jerry’s side like this sort of thing was what they did every day.
Jerry gave Kodi a thank you pat, noticing the darker patches covering most of his front third, and it occurred to him that Kodi and Mandy had probably both ingested their fair share of zombie blood and tissue in the earlier battle with no ill effects. The first thing he needed to do, after he found Rachel, was get everyone a rabies shot. With that thought in his mind and his senses on full alert for zombies, they continued on their way to save Rachel.
