by R. M. Smith
He led us into a small room. He flipped on the light. In here there was simply a small table with three chairs. One chair was opposite the other two. More folded chairs leaned against the wall. The room had no windows. The walls were made of wood paneling.
“Someone will be in here in a few minutes,” Morris said. “They’ll answer your questions.”
“Can we go?” I asked quickly.
He motioned for us to sit down. “Just relax.”
Mindy asked “What will you do with those other two men – the ones in the helicopter?”
“Hang them,” Morris said casually. “They went AWOL during the undead war.” He left, locking the door behind him.
As soon as Morris left the room, I turned to Mindy. I told her that we shouldn’t tell these people who we really were. I didn’t want to take any chances telling them that we were the ones who had escaped from Moses Lake.
This was obviously a military base of some kind - probably a mobile one, I didn’t know - but if Washburn was still after us like he had been back in Concordia, then we really shouldn’t let these people know who we were.
Mindy agreed.
Ten minutes later, the officer from outside came in. He took off his cover, walked over to Mindy and I, stuck his hand out and said “I am Master Sergeant Dean Sharon.”
I stood up. Shaking his hand I said “I’m Mike Thomas. This is my wife Lynn.”
“Nice to meet you folks. Did you know Private First Class Owens and Private Hollis?”
I looked at him with a cocked head. I was acting like I didn’t know what he was talking about. I didn’t want to let on that we knew them.
“Who?” I asked.
“The two soldiers who came up the rift with you in the helicopter...”
I shook my head. “Oh, no. They got in just as the helicopter took off. We never even spoke to them.”
“I see,” he said. “May I ask where you two are from?”
“Santa Fe,” I said.
“Nice country there,” he said. “My wife and I used to vacation there.”
“Yes it is nice there,” Mindy said.
“What did you do there?” he asked me.
“I was a self-employed carpenter.”
“And you?” he asked Mindy.
“A waitress at Denny’s.”
“And you two are married?” he asked.
“We were living together,” I said. “We wanted to get married but then this happened.”
“Where are you heading?”
“Do you really need to know our information?” I asked. “We just wanted to cross here because someone told us that the other side was sinking.”
“And who told you this?” Sharon asked.
“It was something we heard.”
“Where did you hear it?”
“On the road.”
Sharon cleared his throat. “Actually, Mr. Thomas, that information is top secret. Only military personnel know about it.”
“We didn’t hear it from anyone in the military,” Mindy interrupted. “A little girl told us.”
“A little girl…” he said, flustered, his voice lowering.
“Yes, in Oklahoma.”
He sighed, pulled the single chair out from under the table and sat down. Mindy and I sat down as well on the other two chairs across from him. He said “I guess there isn’t any reason to keep it all top secret anymore,” he grunted a laugh then shrugged. “Who do we need to keep it secret from?” He was talking more to himself than to us now. “Most of the world’s population has been wiped out…who would benefit from knowing that the earth is splitting into three large pieces? Would someone want to declare a war and try to take over one of the pieces that aren’t going to fall away into space?”
Mindy and I were holding hands, looking at him, not saying a word.
He looked at us. “Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas, the earth has split into three pieces. Morris, the man who brought you in here, is actually a scientist…well; a geologist. He and another man have discovered this. Morris says that we are stable – on this section of the earth,” he said as he held his hand out flat, palm down. “The area north and west of here is sinking. It’s a whole chunk of the earth, sinking and falling away. The Atlantic chunk has moved almost entirely out of the earth’s orbit. Morris says that there is no chance that it will re-enter so we don’t need to worry about a collision.”
“When you say ‘chunks,’ what do you mean?” Mindy asked.
He held his hands up, making a circle. “Picture the earth like you were looking at it from space. You see the circle?”
“Yes,” Mindy nodded.
“Picture it like a pie. Now picture it breaking into 3 large pieces. This is what is happening to the earth.”
“How did this happen” I asked.
“Believe it or not, it was a series of low yield nuclear blasts. The blasts sent a shudder so strong through the earth that, initially, it caused the earth to lose its axis. The earth actually shook – throughout the whole earth. When it happened, large cracks formed. The cracks went through the entire earth thus causing the splits.”
Mindy’s hand was gripping mine tighter. She asked “Where did these nukes come from?”
“One of our bases in Washington state.”
“Was it a mistake? Did they go off by accident?” I asked
“No, the commanding officer ordered each launch separately.”
“Why?” Mindy and I asked both in unison.
Sharon stood up. “They were launched in an effort to contain a virus. You can ask the commanding officer more about it when he gets here. I’m sure he’ll have questions for you as well.”
“You mean he survived the nukes?” I asked.
“Yes. He transferred himself to Omaha after the fourth launch. He took charge of the base there. When he heard that our two AWOL friends were on the helicopter that you two came up with, he demanded that we hold them until he arrives. He should arrive within the hour.”
I shook my head. “And you’re still following this madman’s orders?”
In a way it looked like this stung Sharon. “I am a Master Sergeant of the US Army, sir! It is my duty to follow orders.”
“What’s this man’s name?” Mindy asked.
“Lieutenant Lee Washburn.”
I wasn’t surprised, but still shocked. In a calm voice I said “My wife and I, we would like to leave please. We aren’t looking for any trouble. We would like to try to live out our lives, peacefully, on this side of the split. Is there somewhere safe that we can go?”
“There is nowhere safe to live,” he said flatly. “Unless you are in a safe zone controlled by the military where there is plenty of firepower to hold off the undead or some of the other crazy lunatics out there, you really have no hope of survival. My suggestion would be for you to remain here in Alvarado.”
“Are there a lot of zombies on this side?” I asked.
“Most of them have been removed. There are still pockets of them I’ve been told.”
“Is the military taking care of the problem?” Mindy asked.
“We have roving groups out in the field. We’re trying to secure this area.”
I said “Lynn’s sister lives in New Orleans. We were going to find her. Is that area secure?”
“New Orleans is about 200 feet underwater,” he said quietly. “Your sister is most probably dead.”
“I still want to know,” Mindy said sadly.
Sharon sat there quietly for a few minutes. He looked us both over. He sighed again then said “You two are free to go.”
“Thank you,” I said then asked “Do you have any food?”
“There is a cafe on the other side of the helicopter pad where you can get a hot meal. Tell Private Canton that I sent you. He’ll get you some chow.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I took Mindy by the hand. We left the small room. The lady was still madly typing on the typewriter. Morris was leaning over the desk, that q
uirky smile still on his face. The lady looked very nervous as we passed.
Once outside, we walked to the other side of the helicopter. We saw a café with lights on. There was movement in there. Inside, I told some soldiers cooking that Master Sergeant Sharon sent us and he said they should feed us. They did as they were instructed. The food wasn’t good, but it at least filled our bellies.
We walked away from Alvarado side by side, walking down highway 35W south of Fort Worth. We had no transportation. Our motorcycle was still on the other side of the split.
We walked south until Mindy started to complain about her feet hurting. I saw a farmhouse off to the side of the highway about a mile ahead of us. I asked if she could make it there and she said yes.
The barn was destroyed. We were able to make a comfortable place in the nook of some of the fallen beams. There was enough hay around to make a soft bed. We were glad, too, that the rain had stopped. We sure didn’t want to sleep in the rain again.
The next morning I awoke to a dreamless night, which really made me happy. We scavenged around inside a home near the barn, but there was no food.
We continued south.
A helicopter landed in Alvarado. First Lieutenant Lee Washburn bowed under the turning blades as he ran over to Master Sargent Sharon who saluted him.
“Welcome to Alvarado, sir,” he snapped.
“Where are our two escapees?” Washburn asked.
“We are holding them in a temporary brig inside the town hall. This way, sir.”
Sharon led Washburn into the same building where he had questioned Dan and Mindy Kingsley not two hours before. At the opposite end of the hall in a dimly lit room, Private First Class Doug Owens and Private Gary Hollis were handcuffed, sitting in chairs.
“Here they are, sir.” Sharon said as he opened the door for Washburn.
Washburn walked in. A smile formed on his lips. He had finally got to them!
He stopped. His jaw dropped.
Who the hell are these two?” he asked, his voice breaking.
Sharon didn’t understand. “These are the two who went AWOL, sir.”
“AWOL? I’M NOT LOOKING FOR ANY FUCKING SOLDIERS WHO WENT AWOL!” Washburn screamed. ‘I’M LOOKING FOR THE TWO WHO ESCAPED IN MOSES LAKE! THEY ARE INFECTED! THEY ARE THE ONES CARRYING THE MCON VIRUS! THEY ARE THE ONES WHO STARTED THIS WHOLE GOD-DAMN MESS!”
Master Sergeant Dean Sharon was dumbfounded. He didn’t know what Washburn was talking about. He thought Washburn had been looking for the AWOL soldiers. He stood there stupidly and then asked “What did the ones you were looking for look like?”
Washburn spoke “A woman. A man. They claim to be married. They are not. The woman is blonde. Their names are Dan and Mindy Kingsley.”
Sharon dropped his head. He had been duped.
Washburn unholstered his pistol. He pressed it against Sharon’s head. “Where are they now?”
“Sir, I don’t know. I sent them to get chow. From there…”
“You stupid son of a bitch” he said. He shot Sharon in the side of the head. “You dumb fuck.”
Washburn looked over at Owens and Hollis. They were looking at him, not understanding what had just happened.
Washburn shook his head at them. He left the room.
Back out in the lobby, Washburn asked the secretary behind the desk: “Who can I talk to around here who knows what the fuck is going on?”
She gave him a questioning look.
We stayed off the main road.
The land started to return to normal the further south we went. I guessed that the worst of the destruction was only around the split in the earth.
We made pretty good time. Eventually we arrived in Hillsboro, Texas. Our feet and backs ached from all of the walking. I kept promising Mindy that we’d get some transportation. All of the vehicles we had come across since leaving Alvarado had either been out of fuel or had no keys.
We walked through the town of Hillsboro. We stayed in a Days Inn.
We kept on thinking that someone was going to follow us or trail us out of Alvarado, but it looked like we were in the clear. We wondered what was going to happen to Gary and Doug. We figured the military would have probably dealt with them by now.
Meeting them left a sour taste in my mouth. I didn’t like how they had threatened us and then acted like we were their friends. I honestly believed that they simply used us just to cross the split.
They never really cared about us.
But now we were safe.
Heading south. Moving toward the Gulf.
I hoped that things would work out when we got there.
We finally found some transportation. Our feet were so sore.
There were several motorcycles lying on the ground near a lounge on one of the frontage roads in Waco. One of the bikes had a set of keys still in the ignition. I stood it up, held it as Mindy got on, and then climbed on myself. It felt so good to sit down. The motorcycle fired right up. The gas tank was nearly full so I didn’t need to look for fuel to siphon.
I started noticing more damage as we traveled. I hoped that there wasn’t another split forming. The ground looked like it had ripples in it – almost as if a huge stone had fallen upon the earth and ripples had formed around it. The ripples were spread out every few miles. I could guess where the next one would be as we drove.
Mindy would tighten her grip around my waist as we drove over them. They were maybe 10 feet tall at the top of the ripple’s slope. They made her belly flip-flop every time we went over one.
We made it as far as the town of Temple before we had to stop for a break. We really didn’t want to stop, though, because we were getting excited to finally be getting closer to the Gulf. We kept talking about finding a boat and sailing out into the middle of the waters – free from any other zombie threats or people threats.
We would be alone again, just the two of us.
Inside a Diamond Shamrock convenience store, I looked for another map just to make sure our directions were right. There was a rack of maps next to a magazine stand near the back of the store. Pulling out a map of Texas, I opened it against the magazines.
After rummaging through some of the looted shelves, Mindy said she needed to use the ladies room. She did that while I checked our position.
If we were to stay on our current course, the highway would lead us away from the ocean.
When Mindy came out of the restroom, I told her we needed to change our directions when we got to Austin.
She was smiling with her hands behind her back while I told her this.
“What are you so giddy about?” I asked her, a smile forming on my face.
She held out something for me to see. It was a pregnancy test.
“Daddy,” she said. “I’m pregnant.”
BART
Bart could always count on his coonhound, Teller, to chase down people’s scents.
No matter how far they ran, no matter where they hid, Teller would always find them. When he did, Trenton “Bart” Lewman would tie them up and haul them back to their meat shack in the back of his rusty old Ford.
Bart was strong. In high school, he was the best on his wrestling team. He had the record for two years straight until some punk kid from north Texas named Doug Owens beat him. Even so, in high school, Bart was at the top of his game.
His forearms were as thick as bricks. He had the strength of an ox. He got all the girls. He drove a late model souped-up Trans Am with fire painted on the hood, licking back on the windshield. His face was free of freckles and he surely didn’t have a zit. He felt like he was the king of the world. He loved how everyone in school looked up to him. It made him feel powerful – and he dwelt on it. He shoved people around like he was the boss. Younger kids in school feared him.
But when Bart’s girlfriend and true love Marla McKinley (the most popular girl in school), ended up pregnant, his heart was broken in two. Bart found out that the kid wasn’t his – she had used him to get to anot
her guy. Bart’s winning streak ended. His complexion turned into a moon surface of pockmarks. His muscle quickly turned into fat. In less than four months, Bart went from being a 200 pound heavy hitter to a 350 pound bag of weak sauce.
He dropped out of high school and went to work for a low-paying job at a construction company in Brenham. His work attendance was horrible. He spent most of his time away from work drinking. Numerous times he would show up to work with a hangover. When he did, his fellow employees would slam their hammers down harder while he was around just to piss him off. It would make his head ache so much worse.
His home was dirty. He never changed the sheets on his bed. The sheets had a large sweat stain across them showing where he laid while he slept. His bathroom sink was clogged with beard shavings. A can of shaving cream had bubbled over on a shelf in the medicine cabinet above the sink. The bottom of the can was nearly rusted through.
Outside in Teller’s kennel, dog shit lined the edges near the bottom of the fence that surrounded it. Bart never cleaned the kennel. He fed Teller mostly table scraps. When he was having a semi-decent day, Bart would buy an extra Big Mac and feed it to Teller when he got home after work.
His life was pathetic.
One day, he thought, one day I will be powerful again and I will not let anyone take the power from me, god dammit. I will never again bend my knee to another man.
However, Bart was never given an opportunity to shine.
When the world crumbled, the foreman at the construction site told the workers to go home. Go home! Be with your loved ones! The end is near! The end is HERE! he yelled, being the Jesus freak that he was. Even before the world went to hell, the preacher foreman had yelled from atop his bread box many a time.
“I should send Teller after that fuck,” Bart said, talking to himself. “Teach him right to get his balls gnawed off!”
Bart went home. His dirty single room apartment with an overgrown yard had collapsed. There was nowhere for him to go. He sat in his rusted pickup truck wondering what to do. He flipped up the bill of his ball cap and scratched his balding sunburned head. His first thought was Where am I gonna get food now? He started his pickup – Teller ran from his kennel that had popped open with the shifting earth. He hopped into the back of the truck like a good dog. Bart drove through the toppling town to McDonalds. Maybe he would be able to get a Big Mac before they shut the place down.
