by Steven Pajak
“What do you want?” I shouted.
I slowly peeked through the rear window of the Wrangler again, hoping they were not rushing me. Both men were still holding their positions, which was good. I could keep my eye on them while my slow mind tried to figure a way out.
“Put down your gun and step out!” one of them shouted.
“No!” I shouted. “I’m not one of them.”
There was a moment of silence and then one of them called back, “Yes, we know. Just come out here. We don’t want to hurt you.”
I risked another look through the back windshield and confirmed they were both still holding their ground. I was suddenly aware of my knees aching. I wasn’t used to staying in a squatting position for this long. I shifted my position slightly and kneeled on my right knee.
Patting my pocket to confirm I had at least one more stripper clip of ammo, which I did, I cursed myself for not grabbing my bag. I had no idea what I was going to do at this point but if forced to ditch the Wrangler I’d be without the remainder of my gear. Another stupid decision. How many more before they caught up with me?
“Don’t make this hard,” one of the guys said. He almost sounded sympathetic.
“Give me a minute to think about it.”
If they knew I wasn’t one of the crazies, what reason did they have for wanting me to come forward? With no escape options, I might have to comply. If they intended to kill me, they would have just opened fire when I stopped the vehicle, right?
So if they didn’t want to kill me, what? Supplies? If they took my SKS and whatever gear I had with me but let me pass, I could easily resupply at home. I’d hate to lose the SKS but I had better weapons. What was in my bag could also be easily replaced.
“You’ve got thirty seconds to come out!”
“Or what?” I shouted. I was feeling salty now. That old fighting spirit was back and I liked it.
Again, another pause that seemed to go on forever. Then one of them said, “We all don’t want to find out. Just come on out. Let us clear you and you can be on your way.”
Son of a bitch, my knees were killing me. I shifted again, this time on to my left knee. Another look through the windshield revealed the men had not moved from their original positions, but now a third man revealed himself when he raised his head up between the nose of both SUV’s. From where I stood it looked like he had a pump shotgun.
The third man pretty much sealed the deal for me. I really had no way out. The road beyond me was cleared of vehicles which left no cover for me in that direction. The ditch on my left I’d already ruled out. Even using the dumped vehicles for purchase to climb out, I’d be shot as I climbed.
In a firefight between me and these three men, I’d be outgunned, outmanned, outflanked and out of luck. And I had no idea how many more people they had with them, lying in wait. They could be flanking me right now, closing me into a kill box.
“I live just up the road!” I shouted. “Over at the Randall Oaks subdivision. I’m not one of those things and I just want to get home to my family.”
“That’s fine.” I think it was Blue Hat doing the talking. “We know people that live there, too. We’re just looking out for our community and neighbors. If you live there, we’ll let you pass.”
I decided there were probably more than three men with him. “What assurances do I have that you won’t just kill me and take my stuff?” I asked.
I checked again through the windshield but still saw no movement on their end. Maybe they were just as scared as I was. Maybe they truly did not want trouble and it was like they said, just looking out for the community.
Too many damn maybes.
“You don’t have any assurances. You just have to trust us.”
“Would you, if you were in my position?”
Another pause and then, “I guess not, but what choice do you have? You have nowhere to go, and if we wanted you dead, we would have already killed you.”
I sat quiet, clutching the SKS tightly.
“We all want to get home alive, so help us out.”
Having gotten by so far in spite of my mistakes I figured I’d press my luck one more time. What he’d said was right; I either complied or I’d be dead. I’d have to take my chances and trust these men.
Holding the SKS in my left hand, I raised it above my head and stood slowly. “Okay, I’m coming out!”
“Easy!” Blue Hat shouted. “Let’s all go easy. Step out from behind the vehicle!”
I took a step to my left, still holding the SKS above my head. I closed my eyes, expecting to be shot now that I was out from cover, but no shots were fired.
“Good! Now put the gun down at your feet. Slowly, please!”
I followed his orders.
“Now walk forward twenty paces!”
Again, I did as directed.
“Okay, stop there,” Blue Hat said.
I stood in the middle of the road with my hands up, no more than twenty feet from the roadblock. Keeping the M1 Carbine aimed at me, Blue Hat stepped around from behind the SUV and approached slowly.
“Keep your eyes on him, Phil!” he shouted over his shoulder.
“I got him,” Phil said. Phil was the guy on the right flank with the brown Carhartt jacket. He had a pretty good tangle of windblown brown hair, and his eyes were sharp and aware.
Blue Hat stopped a few feet away from me. His eyes were blue and crisp under the glow of the street lamp. He was tall, about six-two, and young. He was probably in his very early twenties. Bristles of dark black hair poked out around his ball cap.
“Hello, fella. You have some ID?”
“I do,” I said, but didn’t reach for it.
Blue Hat looked a bit frightened and I didn’t want any accidents. If my luck held, I’d be home in minutes.
“Go on and get it slowly.”
“Okay.” With my left hand I reached slowly into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet. I held it out for him to see and then opened it slowly. I thumbed out my driver’s license and held it out.
Blue Hat paused a moment and then reached out quickly and snagged the ID from me. He backed up a few paces, still aiming the carbine around about at my chest, and took his eyes off me to quickly read the address.
He looked back at me. “You alone, Matt?”
“Yes,” I said. My voice was scratchy and I needed water. Too much yelling had rubbed my throat raw.
There was a pause as he studied me. I was starting to feel a bit of hope about this situation but I didn’t want to jinx it.
“Where’s he from?” Phil asked. He still watched me with sharp eyes and hadn’t yet dismissed me as a threat.
“He’s from just where he said he was from,” Blue Hat told him.
He lowered the carbine and slung it up on to his shoulder. “Welcome home.”
I let out my breath in a rush. I was suddenly aware that I was perspiring. The cold November air chilled me as it blew across my sweaty brow.
“Sorry about the drama,” said Blue Hat. “We just had to be sure. We heard things are starting to get bad in the city. Even down in South Elgin things are getting a bit out of control. We’re just trying to be proactive.”
“Yeah, good idea,” I said, still shaken.
“I’m Frank, by the way,” Blue Hat said. He stuck out his right hand for me to shake.
“You know my name.” I took his hand.
“That’s Phil over there, and that short fella there is Mike,” Frank said.
“Pleased to meet you,” I responded and raised a hand.
“Whereabouts did you come from?” Mike asked.
“I was in Chicago night before last. I holed up for the night at Kappy’s up the road and now I’m trying to get home to see my wife.”
“You came from the city?” Phil asked. “How was it out there?”
“Not good.”
I just wanted to get my gear and get moving but I knew they were just as anxious for information as I was. And since I’d
been in the city, the mystical place that always seemed to be the source of action for us suburbanites, they expected I had all the answers.
“I ran into a number of the crazies and had to put them down.”
“Crazies?” Mike asked. “You mean the zombies?”
The other guys laughed.
Frank said, “Crazies is as good a word as any. Zombies are dead that come back to life. These people ain’t dead yet near as I can tell.”
“That’s my experience anyway,” I said. “I don’t know too much about them. I haven’t had any news since I’ve been on the road.”
“So you’ve been out there since yesterday?” Frank asked.
“Yeah. Whatever the hell is happening started just after I got to work yesterday morning. All hell broke loose. I tried to get my kids from school…but I... I didn’t quite make it in time.”
“Shit, man,” Frank said and put a hand on my shoulder. “Sorry I asked.”
“You couldn’t have known. Listen, Frank, I’d really like to get home to my wife.”
“Yeah, no doubt, man,” Frank said and clapped my shoulder. Over his own shoulder he yelled, “Phil, make a hole!”
“Thank you.”
I reached out my hand and we shook again.
Frank said, “Listen, I’m over at number 12 Encounter Court. When you have some time, I’d really like if you could drop by. We should talk about you volunteering for Community Watch. We’re trying to get organized. If this shit doesn’t sort itself out, we could really use a hand.”
“Hey, you got it.”
I waved at Phil and Mike, then nodded at Frank, and made my way back toward the Wrangler. I picked up my SKS, jumped into the Wrangler and drove forward. Phil had backed up the SUV on the right and made a hole for me. As I drove through, Frank motioned for me to roll down the window.
He said, “I radioed ahead at the next check point at let them know you’re coming. Bob Brown is the leader there, and he says he knows you.”
“Yeah, I know Bob.” Bob Brown lived a couple of houses over from me. He and his wife had been by my home a few times for dinner. Bob was a good man. He was a patrolman and that made him the logical choice.
“Well, good luck,” Frank said. “I hope to see you soon.”
“Take care,” I said, and drove on.
The next roadblock was about a mile and a half up the road, just west of the sole entrance to the Randall Oaks subdivision. It was good to see that my area was so well covered. Security was now one less thing I had to concern myself with at the moment.
I saw Bob out in front and gave him a quick salute, stopped the Wrangler beside him and rolled down the window.
“Good to see you, Matt,” he said, reaching in to shake my hand.
“Yeah, good to see you, Bob,” I said.
As one of Bob’s crew moved a large pick-up truck to make a hole for me he leaned into the window. His eyes were watery and I could smell the heavy scent of his cologne.
“I’m sorry about the kids. If you need me or Peg for anything, anything, you know where to find me.”
Frank had obviously passed the word along.
“Thanks, Bob. I’ll do that. Give Peg my regards.”
“Done,” he said and patted the door. “We’ll talk soon.”
I put the Wrangler into gear and made my way past the roadblock. I turned right, drove through the open gates and onto Randall Oaks Drive. I followed the road as it wound back into our subdivision.
A minute later I saw my house, set up on a slight incline, with a beautiful view of Harper’s Knoll. A figure was sitting on my front porch. I suspected the figure was my wife waiting for me. I wanted to see her so badly, but at the same time I feared breaking her heart when I told her our children were dead.
I drove the Wrangler around the side and parked it behind my garage. I got out, taking the SKS and my bag and walked around to the front. Instead of my wife, my brother, Brian, met me halfway down the walk. He was wearing dark blue jeans and his black fleece sweater. His choppy long hair covered his brown eyes which always seemed to give him a haunted look.
He had his STG 556 slung over his shoulder and a cigarette jutted out of the corner of his mouth.
“Dude,” he said as I drew closer.
He tossed his cigarette onto the ground and tried to lift me. Although I was his little brother, I’d outgrown him in both height and weight. He released me from his grip and stood back a step.
“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been worried as hell.”
“Long story.” I set my bag down and slung the SKS over my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, man.”
Although he lived in my basement family room, he spent most nights with one college girl or another. He’d finally taken to Facebook and MySpace and was building up a steady stream of “friends”.
“I wouldn’t miss the apocalypse, man.” He pulled out a pack of Marlboros. He offered me one and I took it; he lit us both up. “Where’s Katie and little dude?”
I made eye contact with him for a brief second and then looked away. He’d always been close with my kids, especially since he’d lost his job and started living in my downstairs family room. He was good with them, too. Whatever faults my brother had, he was always on his best behavior around the kids, and he was so patient with them, although he was quick to lose his temper with anyone else.
“Where’s Alyssa?” I asked. “I have to talk to her. Now.”
My brother looked at me for a moment. “Answer me, Matt,” he demanded. “Tell me what happened.”
I sat down on the walk way, dropping the cigarette and the SKS into the grass. I covered my eyes with my hands and cried.
It was a long journey and I really did not have time to properly grieve my children. I’d done everything I could to block out the memory of their mangled bodies. Now I was overwhelmed and I couldn’t control myself.
“Aw fuck,” my brother said and dropped down beside me. He had no idea what happened, but he knew it had to be bad.
He put a hand on my shoulder as I sobbed and shook and let all of my emotions out. I have no idea how long I sat there and cried but it felt like forever. I felt completely drained. My eyes stung and I had snot running down my nose. Again. I wiped it away with my sleeve.
When I looked up at him, his eyes were moist.
“They’re gone,” I finally managed.
“Not Mark.” He shook his head. “Come on man, him? He was just a little guy, man.”
“He’s gone.” Another sob escaped me. “And my Katie’s gone, too. They’re fucking gone!”
“Motherfucker!” he shouted.
He jumped up from his crouched position beside me and kicked the shrubs to his left, kicked again and again as he screamed, a guttural sound that frightened me. He continued to kick at the shrub until all of its branches were broken and twisted and fallen.
When his immediate anger smoldered, he finally turned to me. “What happened, man? How did they die?”
“Not now,” I said and tried to get up. I made it to my knees and then fell back down on my butt.
“Just stay down, man,” Brian said.
He turned away from me again. In a motion too quick for my peripheral vision to follow clearly, Brian swooped up one of the metal porch chairs. With a long grunt, he slammed the chair against the side of the house. A chunk of brick dislodged itself and fell to the garden and with another pirate-like yell he sent the chair sailing across the lawn where it tumbled a few times and landed on its side.
Another minute passed. I sat where I was, too tired to move. My head ached all over and my eyes felt like they were being pushed out of my skull.
Brian faced me again. This time, when he spoke there was no harshness in his voice.
“Look, we’ll talk about that later man. You need to get inside and get some rest. But I have to tell you something before we go inside.”
Crouching, be picked up his discarded cigarette and took a long drag. He exhaled a cl
oud of smoke that sounded like a long sigh.
“I need to see Alyssa,” I said. “I have to tell her.”
My brother stared at me a long moment again. He swallowed hard. “Alyssa’s inside, but she’s not well. After you left for work yesterday, she went to do some shopping and she was at Meijer’s when those things…well, one of them scratched her.”
“What are you saying?” I asked. “So the thing scratched her, it can’t be that bad.”
He shook his head. “She’s not well. I think…I think she might be infected.”
“No.” I reached up and grabbed my brother’s jacket and pulled myself up. “She’s fine. If it’s just a scratch she’ll be fine.”
“She’s not, man. I know this is hard for you, you’ve been through a great trauma, but she’s really not fine. You have to prepare yourself.”
I looked into my brother’s eyes and I knew he told the truth.
CHAPTER 7:
Mercy
I stood behind the bedroom door with my ear against the cool wood. Long silence greeted me from the other side. My hand lay upon the doorknob but I did not immediately open the door. I was afraid. My mouth was dry and my hands moist with sweat.
Fear clenched in my belly like a coiled snake waiting to strike. I did not fear attack, but rather seeing my wife in an advanced state of metamorphosis, and in her eyes, that damned blank idiot stare.
It’s what I feared most, seeing the change in her eyes when she realized there was fresh meat in the room.
“It’s not locked,” my brother said from behind me.
“I know.”
I wished at that moment that he’d waited outside. I wanted to be alone in my sorrow.
The doorknob turned slowly in my moist hand. A slight creak issued as the door swung on the hinges.
I’ll have to oil that, I thought stupidly. Then, What does a creaky hinge matter now? There will be no one left in this house for a creaky hinge to wake.
Alyssa sat at the edge of the bed with her head cocked slightly to the right, toward the window. The blinds were closed tight and the curtains drawn. Pale light filtered into the room and cast shadows along the carpet.
