“Very well, I suppose that makes sense. Let’s just be off and make sure not to be seen until we look respectable.”
We hovered for a moment, ensuring the sentries hadn’t witnessed our take off, and glided over the lake. The bright lights and the outline of the CN Tower were on the horizon. I smiled until my cheeks hurt.
Almost there. We’re going to make it.
I waited for something to go wrong as we soared closer to our destination. I pushed aside images of us being shot down or crashing into a force-field or something. The dying cries of the infected grew further away and the once familiar buzz of people and cars and electricity took its place.
Tears fell from me as hail as we approached a darkened area along the lake. Daemon squeezed my hand; I’d forgotten he was holding it. Reggie slowed and descended ahead of us.
We are going to have a life here. A real life. The past is almost over.
We touched down in a dim alley. It was the most beautiful place I’d ever been. I sat down to listen to the hum of cars driving and the mewing of stray cats against the bitter cold. Reggie began to rebuke me for not hurrying to change clothes; Cal stopped him.
“We all need a moment I think. It has been a difficult time for us. We will dress, but for now, we must allow the past to drift into the ether if we are to embrace our future.”
The three of us absorbed our surroundings full of the pulse of life for a full five minutes. It was glorious. I memorized every brick on the wall opposite me. Each crack and stain was free of the carnage I’d grown accustomed to seeing. I wanted to kiss the filthy ground beneath me for being covered in piss instead of putrid flesh.
I let the joy be held off and removed a recently scavenged pair of pants from my bag. While the three of us changed clothes, Reggie carried a handful of gold chains and rings to a pawn shop. He returned with six hundred dollars Canadian.
“This should be enough to rent you all a room for a few days and to gather whatever you’ll need for your return mission. I assume you haven’t decided to leave your former fellows to make the journey alone?”
I shook my head.
Even if I go it alone, I’m going. I promised I’d get them out safely and my parents taught me to keep my promises.
Our guide shook each of our hands and hoisted his sack of loot.
“I’ll see you all in a week or two then. I’ll begin arranging identification and the like for your return. Just drop by my place when you arrive, Cal. You remember the loft?”
“Of course. Thank you again for your help.”
“Don’t mention it. Especially not to my wife; Lorna has always hated the trouble I get in when you and I spend time together.”
“Just remind her she wouldn’t have met you if I hadn’t taken her to the Globe to see the nighttime show of Hamlet. That should shut her up for a few decades at least.”
The friends laughed and parted. Cal led us to a small hotel and we checked into a suite. For the rest of the night we marveled at our lost comforts: running water, electricity, escorts to drink blood from (our own version of take out), and heaters. We stayed in the room all night and watched television from our comfy beds during the day. I snuggled against Daemon as we rested on machine-washed sheets. I fell asleep with the scent of lavender in my nose.
CHAPTER 32 MARCH 7TH - YEAR 2
We stood near the waterway in dry-cleaned clothes holding five gallon gas cans. The three of us took our time soaking in the peace found in the chaos of modern technology and overcrowding. The sun had only set an hour before and we’d already fed from an array of glamoured citizens on their way to dinner dates or home from work.
As soon as we were certain no one was near, we shot through the sky. We passed the wall against the backdrop of thick clouds, fluffy with moisture that aspired to become snow. The sounds of civilization faded to be steadily replaced by the quiet of the tomb. The ten gallons of unleaded sloshed in either hand. We landed with our jugs a couple of miles past the border.
We may be the only people stupid enough to want to cross the border into the quarantine.
Daemon set his cargo on a bench near the sign asking us not to litter in the state park. Cal did the same and stretched after the workout we’d just had. I cracked my back and removed my knapsack.
“So how do we find exactly where the others are? There are dozens of roads to get them here, assuming they stay on the bikes and don’t decide to trudge due north through the rural areas.”
“Wait, we didn’t plan this part first?”
Daemon plopped onto the bench beside his canisters. Cal picked up his supplies and looked around.
“We’ll find them. We just need to choose a place to wait for them and set signage on the alternate routes directing them to us. It will be much as Reggie did on the roof.”
I donned my bag and lifted the gasoline.
“Yeah but he was able to put that on a roof because he knew we’d be flying. Sunny and Chase are either riding bikes or walking. They could be anywhere in a hundred mile vicinity of where we left them.”
“Plus without us, they’re probably travelling by day when it’s easier for them. So how will we know if we’ve passed them if they could be hiding during the night while we have to hide during the day?”
Cal stormed off along the road.
“You two are going to be the death of me, I fucking know it.”
We marched along in his wake. Daemon grinned like a twelve year old peeking into a ladies locker room.
“Sometimes it’s fun to poke holes in his plans. He really lets his hair down when he gets annoyed.”
“Daemon.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re a twisted individual. I respect that about you.”
I gave him a kiss as we toted the petrol past wrecked vehicles. Cal checked each one for usability as he walked while Daemon and I shoved the disabled crafts off the road. The return trip would be faster with a clear path. After half a night of walking, hauling fuel, and dragging tons of steel and fiberglass, Cal found an acceptable car.
We cleaned the debris of someone’s life out of the BMW Hybrid. Dresses, photos, toys, and other household goods decorated the defunct highway to be replaced with our own luggage. Cal poured a few pints worth of gas into the car.
“I’m going to see if it will turn over. We shouldn’t waste the fuel if it won’t.”
He sat in the driver’s seat and mumbled something that sounded like a prayer before turning the key. It didn’t work. He cursed and popped the hood.
“Oil is probably long dried up. Did either of you bring any?”
I stared at the engine.
“Yeah, I’ve got a barrel of crude in my back pocket. Any other thoughts?”
Daemon went to the trunk of several trucks. He came back with five quarts of various brand of oil.
“No one ever remember that they have these things. So many drivers pack them for long trips and only remember that they have jumper cables and a spare tire in back.”
He poured a quart of 10W40 into the engine and replaced the cap.
“Give it a minute then try again.”
“When did you become a grease monkey?”
He wiped his hands on a Spiderman onesie.
“I didn’t. I just remember that my dad always made sure to put a spare quart in the back with some coolant, jack, spare, and cables. I figured everyone did that.”
Cal turned the key. A few clicks. Our hope for the sports sedan rose. After a few more tries the car was revived. We let the engine run for ten minutes before shutting it off to add more oil and unleaded. I did a silly celebration dance while Daemon did a slow-motion victory lap around the car. Cal watched us with a serious expression. We both stopped and he broke into a smile and started to do the hustle. We began our trip full of laughter.
“We’ll take turns driving, clearing the road, and flying ahead. We should drive slowly to conserve the fuel and allow the path to be widened. Whoever is flying will be looking for s
igns of life and marking other roadways with signs to use this one. If we near Pittsburgh without finding the others, we will double back and wait just before Buffalo.”
Daemon raised his hand.
“So who’s doing what first?”
“I think you should start on the highway while I fly and Squirrel drives.”
I did a little fist pump of excitement and threw in a cd from the visor case.
“Sweet. Thanks guys, I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
Daemon put on a false pout and went to work as soon as Cal took to the heavens. I cranked up the AC/DC and rolled the car at a solid twenty miles per hour. I noted how the Roman flew from side to side and barely above the treetops. Once in a while, he’d disappear for a few minutes to leave a sign on another roadway or a noticeable structure. Daemon ragged on him about tagging billboards with spray paint.
We switched off after three hours and I took the markers and spray paint satchel from Cal, handing Daemon the keys. I later realized I probably could’ve run the heat in the car. The night wore on and the zombies we crossed were all long past fresh. I heaved car parts at the ones who wandered my way. It’s surprising how well a Chevy fender will destroy a six foot tall dead guy.
The drive through Buffalo took us until the sun was rising. The cursed fleshies seemed to come out of every crevice the city had to bombard our transportation. Cal was trapped inside the hybrid while Daemon and I spent hours hacking at Dead. I had to hover over the ground to keep them from biting me; an irrational fear of being infected again crashed over me like a tsunami.
Daemon swung high and low with his katana until it snapped against the prosthetic arm of a particularly rank old man. I lent him my broadsword and wielded a camp shovel like a short spear. A chunk of one woman’s scalp got stuck in the serrated edge and came off. The zombie ballerina kept strolling blissfully unaware.
Cal rolled over the top of the fleshies and backed up every few yards to gain better traction and momentum. He fired a Glock out his window when the herd was too thick. The side of the BMW looked like a Jackson Pollock painting gone awry.
Daemon attempted fancy moves against the numerous waves of Dead. I resorted to a large cable with a steel bar lashed to it. I swung it like the pendulum of stone back at camp and was rewarded with multiple cracked skulls. The only difference, was that I was performing the tactic in midair instead of leaned over a tower platform.
The path was clear of vehicles or major building debris, but clogged with smashed corpses. Once we broke the city limits, the population of zombies lessened. Exhausted and without additional blood, the three of us left a sign for our friends and hid in our car with a tarp blocking the sunlight.
CHAPTER 33 MARCH 8TH-10TH - YEAR 2
A loud knocking on the passenger window startled me awake. I pulled myself to a sitting position, accidentally elbowing Daemon in the crotch in the process. Cal reached back from the driver’s seat and covered his mouth to forestall any sound. I apologized with my eyes as Daemon shifted himself and tried to ignore the pain.
Knock, knock, knock.
I shrugged at Cal; it felt like the sun was still up, but not for much longer.
“Anyone in there? I see your tire tracks out here and someone’s clearly been moving junk outta the way.”
The three of us exchanged worried glances.
What are we going to do? We can’t go outside yet. Can we?
Cal titled his hand side to side: iffy at but maybe.
Well that’s helpful. Ideas anyone?
Daemon held his chin and tapped his forefinger on his lips. I listened to the lone heartbeat outside the door. Daemon indicated he had an idea.
“Uuahsrraggghhh”
He mimicked the guttural moans of the Dead and slowly tapped his palm against the frost-sparkled window. The stranger stumbled back a couple of steps.
Brilliant!
“Mmmeheghasss”
“Fuck. I guess I’m walking.” Footsteps plodded away. “I was really looking forward to catching a ride with someone. Hell, just seeing someone alive would’ve been freaking bliss.”
Daemon kept up the low howls and tapping for a couple of minutes before collapsing into laughter.
“I’m glad we had the tarp on. That would’ve sucked otherwise.”
Cal patted him on the shoulder.
“Yes it would have: we would’ve been burned to cinders by the sun and that fellow would have acquired our ride.”
We relaxed and sunk back into our seats. Sunset was coming. I pushed aside the random thought that we could hunt the man then; I had the hunger to kill him, but I want to control it. The gnawing thirst for sanguine fluid threatened to push me out in pursuit of the wanderer. I noticed Cal watching me and started small talk to assure him I was present.
###
The last rays of the sun blinked out and we emerged from our cocoon. We all stood a moment and stared at the tracks in the slush. Daemon and I busied ourselves with packing up the tarp and gassing the car. Cal pursed his lips.
“We all know we must have sustenance to maintain our control. Do you both feel it so necessary to ignore what must be done?”
“I don’t want to kill anyone.” Daemon said.
I looked at his drooped head and shoulders and felt the remorse he carried from the few people he’d killed. I thought of my own death toll and shuddered.
“Me either. But maybe we can just take enough to get by. A little bit each and a quick glamour and we’re on our way.”
Cal started the car.
“That is what we’ll do then. Load up and lets find our new guest.”
Daemon didn’t look at me as we resumed our drive south. Cal hummed something upbeat and turned on his high beams. We only drove a couple of miles before the footprints stopped. The engine was turned off and we got out in search of our meal.
The trail dipped off the road and towards a long red farmhouse.
Of course. It’s nighttime and the temperature is dropping. Why wouldn’t he take shelter?
Cal pocketed the keys and we carried a small pouch of food. The farm wasn’t far and we reached the door quickly. I knocked gently.
“Hello? Anyone here?”
Someone moved inside. I knocked again.
“Any fleshies in here?” Something small toppled over and broke. “Hello?”
“Yeah. Who are you?”
“Just some travelers looking for a warm place to rest. Can we come in, it’s getting cold?”
A deadbolt clicked and the knob turned. Brown eyes peeked through the two inch opening. The man inside held a small crossbow at his side; a 38 special sat holstered on his hip.
“Just the three of you?”
We nodded in unison.
“Alright then.” He opened the door and stood back. “I’ll trust you, but don’t betray me or I swear I’ll finish you faster than a whore gets laid.”
“Thanks.” I raised an eyebrow at the expression. “We brought food to share, but I’m not on the menu, okay?”
Our patron beamed revealing two rows of pristine pearly whites.
“Fine by me. As far as I know, my wife is still alive and I’m not one to stray. Name’s Quince.”
Quince led us to the kitchen where he’d started a small fire in the oven. I made the introductions and presented him with two cans of green beans and a bottle of water. We sat on a pile of couch cushions.
“You sure none of you are hungry?”
Daemon waved him off.
“We ate earlier. Don’t worry about us, you dig in. It looks like you’ve been hungry awhile.”
Quince was five foot ten but only a hundred thirty to a hundred forty pounds. His veins were far too visible on his arms; they wrapped around the protruding bones on his hands in a way that seemed unnatural.
“Yeah, I’ve been mostly eating snow and whatever roots I could dig up. Thanks for the grub.”
He warmed the first can at the edge of the coals and packed away the water. We watch
ed as he worked the can opener and swallowed his first mouthful of legumes. Quince closed his eyes and sighed. I stared at his exposed jugular and felt the lowering of my fangs.
No. Control yourself. Look away and put the hunger aside.
With some effort, I cast my gaze into obscurity. Once our host finished the can, Cal caught his eye and had him under the glamour in a blink. The Roman took a quick sip from Quince’s neck, wiped the corner of his mouth, and moved aside for Daemon. Daemon’s eyes glowed with need as he sank his canines into the same spot and drank. Cal prodded his protégé and Daemon withdrew.
They left a gap for me to feed. My eyes riveted on the four tiny holes, I rolled up his sleeve and drank from the large blue river inside Quince’s elbow. Life and strength flowed into me and set my skin tingling. I suctioned another mouthful and felt my heart beat in rhythm with his. The ever-present tug to dwell within grew. From inside that hidden place in my gut, I forced myself to stop.
My companions looked befuddled as I paused to gather my thoughts. I licked clean my lips and gave the depleted donor a false memory. Wordlessly, I stood and left the warm room. Passing through the traipsing shadows, a pair footfalls fell in behind. I left the front door open for them as I returned to our vehicle.
I kicked a moped out of the way and cursed as I set about freeing the interstate of obstructions. Neither Daemon nor Cal commented on my feeding or frustration as we went back to our tasks. I’d controlled the hunger, but just barely.
###
We’ve been following the highway all night, skirting Lake Erie from a few miles inland. Cal keeps double-checking the map to see if we need to fly east a few miles and leave another sign on any neighboring roads. After we reach Pittsburgh -- assuming we haven’t found our party -- we are going to backtrack to Buffalo and do the same down the 219 in case they chose that route. It’s a thorough plan, but I hate the waiting.
Daemon has been driving for a few hours and hasn’t stopped singing along with the Hairspray cd for an instant.
Nova Nocte (Book 2): Quarantined in Chaos Page 18
