The Zombies: Volumes One to Six Box Set

by Macaulay C. Hunter

  He needed to psych himself up, not psych himself out. Sometime today, or tomorrow if the fog never lifted, he’d be rising on that distant shore. His clothes would be drenched and he’d be exhausted, but he would be there. Then they could move on to the harbor. He fantasized about the place, food and clean water and drugs, apartments or disaster housing. Corbin wasn’t going to be any good to them with paperwork, whatever kinds of jobs they had, but he could build or farm or cook. When swimming got bad, he would fix his mind on the harbor. That was something concrete to work for.

  If Zaley weakened too much to keep going, Austin and Micah would drag her. Corbin was ashamed that he couldn’t do that for his own girlfriend. Helping her was his role. But his hand was a little messed up and he’d never been on the swim team, so he ceded her care to them. Annoyed, he picked up his shoe in his left hand and gripped it with his thumb, fourth finger, and little finger. Be strong, be strong . . . It fell into his lap. The second time he practiced, it bounced off his leg and smacked Zaley in the arm. Her eyes opened in sleepy surprise. He mouthed an apology and she whispered, “We’ll make it.” She had dreamed the opposite, a handful of easy dog paddles across a puddle and they were there.

  They had to make it. The only other choice was to drown, and that would keep them swimming. Austin farted in his sleep and woke up Micah, who smacked his ass to wake him up in revenge. Jerking awake and unaware that he’d farted, he smacked her ass in return and called her a bitch. She called him a shit churro and the snark-fest was on as they rustled around for breakfast. Zaley opened her door for more air circulation. Austin’s anal sphincter was continuing to putter. Everyone kept the towels and blanket on since it was so damn cold.

  “Fuck, we can’t swim in this,” Austin groused. “We’ll end up in Japan.”

  “I like Japanese food,” Micah said. “We won’t even have Sombra C any longer by the time we land with all of that radioactive waste in the ocean from their leaking nuclear power plant. It’ll clear the virus right out of our systems. And in a few years as an added bonus, I’ll have a kid with a few extra arms and legs.”

  “Micah!” Zaley said with a laugh.

  “Jubilee and Spider,” Austin said dramatically.

  “That’s a mean name to give a kid,” Micah said. “Jubilee and Ganesha.”

  “That’s better?” Zaley asked.

  Micah’s real name was so weird. Corbin didn’t think that she particularly embodied jubilation. And Eclipse was ridiculous, like naming a kid Monday Hospital because he or she happened to be born on a Monday and in a hospital. They ate breakfast and took pee breaks, all four of them constantly checking the sky. The fog was so thick, but it had been thick on other days and burned off in time. As soon as they had decent visibility, they’d go. In the trunk were more plastic bags for their clothes. Swimming in heavy jeans and shoes wasn’t a good idea.

  Since they had time to kill, Micah covered up her stamp and went on a walk. The rest of them packed up the blankets and towels, sat around in the car, and then stretched outside it. At a rank breeze, Zaley gagged and said, “I hope it smells better on the other side.”

  “What are we going to do about the second pillow?” Austin said mournfully. “It won’t fit in the backpacks no matter how I squish it.”

  “Just double bag it in plastic and tie it to your backpack to get pulled along,” Corbin said. “Or leave it behind. It’s all we can do.”

  From the look on Austin’s face, it was clear that leaving it behind was not an option. They had so little that what was in their possession was sacred, even a pillow that was as flat as a pancake. Austin wrapped it up in several layers, breathed air into the plastic to make the bag float, and knotted it to his backpack with one of the spare bungee cords.

  Zaley did her exercises gently. “I wish I had had a few more sessions with Daniel. I don’t know if I’m ready for new exercises, or what they should be if I am. The ones I’m doing aren’t much work any more.”

  “Maybe the harbor will have a physical therapist,” Corbin said. “We could ask around for one.”

  “If they let me in without Sombra C,” Zaley said.

  “They let in Elania’s family and they’re uninfected. They’ll let you in.” He wasn’t going in without her. Harbors let in family, so Zaley would become Micah’s sister. If Micah didn’t make it to the harbor . . . Corbin didn’t want to think about that. But if she didn’t, he’d say that Zaley was his wife.

  “Christ, if they kick out Zaley because she’s not infected, I’ll bite her myself,” Austin said. “Problem solved.” He snapped his teeth at Zaley, who called him a very good friend.

  Cars honked in the distance. As Corbin turned in that direction, a minivan pulled into the lot and parked in the middle of the aisle. A man and a woman climbed out, both of them dressed in ragged clothes and holding guns. In the back seat was a girl of about eight. Scanning the cars, the man said, “Any of them have gas?”

  “We don’t know,” Corbin said. Their guns made him nervous. The bow was behind him on the trunk of their car and Austin had the rifle.

  “You got gas in yours? Or some food? We’ll pay you,” the woman offered.

  Money wasn’t worth shit. As the man sized them up, Corbin said, “We don’t have much of anything.”

  “You sure?” the guy drawled a little aggressively. “Like she said, we’ll pay.”

  “We’re sure,” Corbin said. “Feel free to check the other cars for what they have.”

  Seeing the glass on the ground and the broken windows, the man said, “Looks like you did that already.”

  The two backed off to canvass the other cars for closed gas flaps and food. The girl moved around in the minivan, watching out the windows anxiously and asking, “Mom? Did you find anything to eat? Uncle Danny?”

  Zaley let herself into the car and unzipped her backpack. When she pulled out a granola bar, Corbin whispered, “Don’t, Zaley. We need that.”

  “This is mine for lunch, and mine to give away,” Zaley said. Walking to the minivan and waving the bar at the adults, she called, “I have one extra. Can I give it to your kid?”

  “What do you want for it?” the woman asked.

  “Nothing.”

  The woman nodded and said thanks. Zaley leaned into the minivan, the little girl shrinking away and then coming forward cautiously to take the extended bar. She downed it fast and talked to Zaley.

  The man and woman had red gas cans and clear plastic tubing. The woman was farther away, so Corbin watched as the man fed the tube down into a car’s gas tank. Then he blew air into the other end and listened. Corbin puzzled over that for a moment. It must have been to listen for bubbles. That would indicate if there was anything in the tank, and if the tube was beneath the surface of it.

  Sucking in air with his fingers by his lips, yellow liquid came up. Before it reached his mouth, the man pinched the tube. Keeping it crimped, he withdrew the end in the tank and moved it to the gas can. The gasoline drained out. When he put the tube back in the tank and sucked a second time, very little fluid came out. He tried another car and got out even less. From the far end of the lot, the woman called, “I’m not getting much of anything.”

  “Sure you aren’t interested in money?” the guy called to the boys. He brought the red can to his minivan and set it down on the ground by the gas flap.

  Corbin had answered that question already. The guy quick-stepped to the door and dug his fingers into Zaley’s hair. Yanking her away from the minivan, he spun her around screaming to face the boys. Then he raised his gun to her head. “Are you interested now?” The little girl shrieked and hid behind the seats.

  “Zaley!” Corbin yelled. He took a step and the guy shook his head in warning. The car horns were still going in the distance.

  “What the fuck?” Austin shouted, aiming his rifle. “Let go of her!”

  “Dan!” the woman exclaimed. She began to cut through the cars, either surprised by this or faking it really well.

>   “You give us your gas and food, and you get her back,” Dan said. “You don’t, and I’ll blow her head off. Easy as that. Come here and get the gas can. Fill it up.”

  “Jesus Christ, Dan, stop! She’s just a kid!” the woman said. It wasn’t a good cop-bad cop routine. She was genuinely shocked at what the guy was doing.

  “We’ll give you whatever you want,” Corbin said. He’d pick off the tape and drag out some gas, but leave a little for themselves. And he’d pretend the food they had in one backpack was everything. He shouldn’t have let Zaley go over there! They couldn’t trust anyone. It wasn’t that kind of world.

  A gun blasted and everyone jumped. Corbin screamed for Zaley, believing that she’d been shot. But it hadn’t been the guy’s gun. Unhurt, she slammed her left elbow into his stomach as he moved the gun away from her head to point it at the rocks. Micah was coming through them fast. She fired a second time and third, putting a hole in the driver’s side window of the minivan. The woman dropped her gas can and bolted for the passenger side of the vehicle, shouting in fright, “Honey! Get down!”

  Micah and Dan exchanged fire, Corbin hunching over as he ran for Zaley. She was already running for him. The man screeched and stopped shooting as a small red stain formed on the upper right side of his chest. Corbin and Zaley dashed to their car and ducked down with Austin behind it. Having climbed into the minivan, the woman screamed, “Dan, stop it! Get inside or I’m going!”

  Micah just kept coming, her arm out and the gun blasting. Windows shattered in parked cars. She hadn’t taken cover from his bullets, somehow certain that he was going to miss. And he had. The guy staggered against the side of the minivan, kicking over the gas can and going to the door. The woman leaned over and turned the key. Getting in fast, Dan put his one good arm on the steering wheel and stomped on the gas.

  Jumping down into the lot, Micah stormed through the cars and shot at the rapidly retreating vehicle. It wasn’t until she ran the gun dry of bullets that she stopped. They had to save the ammo, Corbin wanted to remind her of that again, but a nasty thrill went through him at how fast that dickhead was driving. There were more bullets in the backpacks. Zaley had gotten a load of them before sales were made illegal.

  “I’m sorry,” Zaley whispered at his side.

  “Don’t be sorry. You were trying to be nice,” Corbin said. “I just don’t think we can be. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. He just pulled my hair.”

  “What the fuck was that all about?” Micah said. Then she shook her head. “You know what, if you’re all in one piece, I don’t want to know. The bridge is open.”

  The car horns! They had been blaring all along and that was why. The haze was clearing, but Corbin still couldn’t quite see all the way to the bridge. “Are Shepherds watching it?”

  “They’re guarding it and people are pissed. Thousands of cars just came out of the woodwork to escape San Francisco and they aren’t wanting to stop to get neck-checked.” Picking up one of the abandoned gas cans, Micah handed it to him. She doubled back for the second one as Corbin removed the tape and poured the drops of gas into their car.

  “Not a spit check?” Austin asked.

  “From what I saw, they weren’t testing saliva. They’re just having every second or third car roll down the windows to check necks, and usually pop the trunk for a quick look-see. Everyone is honking and screaming epithets out the windows to move it along.” She gave over the second gas can. Corbin pondered if they should keep these cans and tubes. Yes. The answer was always going to be yes. They had to keep everything. He set them in the trunk beside the boogie boards. If the bridge were open, they wouldn’t have to swim! That was the best news he’d heard all day.

  “Is there going to be a time when they’re not checking so we can sneak through?” Zaley asked. She had gotten the paper from the confinement point of brace schedules.

  “Is it even good?” Corbin said as she took it out. “That paper is weeks old now.”

  Micah pulled out a backpack and reloaded the gun. “We can’t trust that schedule. It’s been too long. We should make a run for it, try and position the car in line so we’re not the one being checked.”

  “That’s risky,” Austin said.

  Corbin was so eager to be away from here, to not have to swim, that he threw caution to the wind. “If they hassle us, we’ll shoot them and drive on!”

  “They’ll shoot us and we’ll be dead!” Austin exclaimed. “Trying to position the car? If we don’t land in the exact right place . . .”

  “Aussie, we have to get out of here,” Micah said. “There’s no food. Nothing. And things are getting too wild. It’s only going to get worse. If the bridge closes down again-”

  “We should swim!”

  “Swimming is going to suck with Zaley, it’s going to suck with our belongings, and it leaves us on the other side without a car! Let’s join that honking sea of humanity and ditch this peninsula.”

  “Then all of you need to cover your stamps really well and let me check them,” Zaley said. Austin looked at her in betrayal.

  Frantic to be off, Corbin didn’t spend any time trying to persuade Austin to their way of thinking. They got into the car, Zaley in the driver’s seat, Corbin beside her, the other two in the back. He lowered the sun visor and checked his neck. The stamp was still covered, and he turned his head for Zaley to inspect.

  “This is a mistake,” Austin said.

  “Am I good?” Micah asked about her neck.

  “You’re good,” Zaley said. “Austin, I can see the littlest bit of red at the top of your stamp.”

  He put on more foundation, spreading it all around his neck so it didn’t look like just one section was suspiciously smooth. “They are going to drag us out of this car and kill us.”

  “Aussie, we shouldn’t risk swimming,” Micah said. “I heard two Shepherds laughing yesterday about how they sometimes take potshots at people in the water. Some of them even go around in boats looking for swimmers to check their necks.”

  “That’s bullshit!”

  “It could have just been them talking big. We haven’t seen too many boats out there. I’ve heard gunshots, we all have, but I can’t say where they’re coming from. But if they were telling the truth, there could be someone out there, waiting for us to paddle up.”

  They were tense and quiet as Zaley drove in the direction of the bridge and braying horns. Corbin thought it might be a mistake to have her driving when she had worked as a Shepherd in the confinement point. Someone could recognize her. But her hair wasn’t brown and blue-streaked the way it had been back then. It was at a strange stage. The brown was fading away and the streaks had gone from blue to a weird, mossy green. Amongst the locks were bits of her true hair, a mixture of blonde and red. Yet her changing hair didn’t make her unrecognizable. Corbin asked, “Should I drive? You’re probably considered a deserter and the guards . . .”

  “They’ll be able to see me in any seat in the car, and I can’t hide in the trunk without them finding me if they check. That’s just going to make you guys more interesting if I’m in there,” Zaley said. “The bridge guards are a separate operation from the confinement point. The only ones I could know are the ones they pulled weeks ago to work it. They might no longer be working there, or they might have died.”

  A backpack unzipped in the back seat and Corbin said, “What are you doing?”

  “No need to show all our cards up front,” Micah said. “I’m putting the gun under a sweatshirt in my lap.”

  Corbin tucked his bow and arrows into a plastic bag and attached it to his backpack. If a Shepherd on the bridge asked what the bag contained, he would say the bow was something he’d constructed as a project for his high school wood shop class. He’d announce it like a kid. Wow! Look what I made! Isn’t it cool? The Shepherd would write him off as a tool, and hopefully move on to another car.

  When Zaley turned onto the freeway going north, all four of them exclaimed, “Shit
!” She hit the brakes. Vehicles stretched out ahead as far as they could see, some drivers tapping on their horns and others laying on them. The southbound traffic was moving at a faster pace and Corbin said in astonishment, “Who the hell is coming here?”

  “Probably people trying to get to their families,” Micah said. A Mr. Foods semi went by and they stared at it hungrily. The truck was covered in graffiti on top of the DRIVER ARMED addition. The fruit and vegetables painted on the side were getting lost. All of those shifts Corbin had worked in the grocery store! He should have taken the time to marvel at the sheer mass of food around him. There hadn’t been any concept in his mind back then that it could one day be gone.

  “What do you think they have in there?” Austin said wistfully. The semi had distracted him from reiterating that they should swim. “Bread? Meat? Eggs?”

  “Not for long,” Micah said. “If that driver doesn’t have more than a handgun to protect himself, someone’s going to shoot him and hijack the truck.”

  “I want a big old plate of fried eggs,” Austin moaned.

  People didn’t want to let those waiting on the on-ramp merge. Several cars ahead of them, someone in a white car was sitting there and politely waiting for a gap to appear. The people caught behind the white car were going nuts, tooting their horns to encourage the driver to move in. A guy leaned his head out of a window and shouted, “Get the fuck out of the way!”

  “Don’t be the white car when it’s your turn, Zaley,” Micah said. “Just push in.”

  At last, the driver in that car got the clue that no one was ever going to cede to him, and forced himself into the lane. Everyone else did the same, edging in and in and in until the drivers already there gave up and supplied some space. Nervously, Zaley laid on the horn and moved up. The guy beside them was furious about it, especially when Micah flipped him off. In the time he took to return the gesture, the cars crept up and Zaley got in.