by catt dahman
Robert looked at him with wet, swollen red eyes. “They got him; he was infected, Davie; he’s not hurting now. We had to let him go; sorry we didn’t let you say goodbye, but we had to let him go quickly.”
Dave slumped against the doorframe. He was about to say how sorry he was, but they knew it, and instead, he asked again if the men had found what they needed.
Robert shook his head, saying they got nowhere close to any place with any medical supplies they needed. The truth was Robert had tried, and they had all wanted to find something but didn’t know for sure what they were looking for anyway. It had been a last-ditch effort.
They just needed something.
“How’s my girl doing, Dave?” Cory asked. He was at the end of his strength and didn’t want to see any more death, suffering, and misery. He was tired of running from zombies and being scared of them. He was sick of nothing staying good but always becoming worse.
Everywhere were just dead end alleys.
Dave’s eyes filled with tears as he shook his head. Stevie had started bleeding heavily that morning, and Robert didn’t know if he should do something to stop the early labor and maybe stop the bleeding, or if he should encourage the labor and deliver the baby much too soon for its survival. Dave had asked him to do whatever would save Stevie’s life.
Of all things, Stevie was the bright star that made living possible. She was the reason not to eat the barrel of a pistol. They all harped on everything she said and did because she was pure and sweet and she was where they pinned hope. When she made it through losing her leg, she was their hero.
She was in danger.
When Robert went to check on Stevie again, he knew why Dave was crying; she was fish-belly white, so pale her veins were deep blue against her skin, and she was unconscious and bleeding harder, the towels underneath her soaked. Since he had removed her leg, she had never fully recovered from the infection she fought, and while he had carefully, shyly suggested abortion, she had refused.
Robert thought her body was too thin, too weak, and too worn out from losing her leg and the pain she had endured and still was too tired to healthily carry a child to term. Her hips were narrow. She was suffering, and Robert didn’t think he could stand seeing this, but it was almost over.
He wished he could have seen her as Cory had, up and around, full of energy and running about, a fighter and vibrant. But Dave had never known her that way, and he had loved her a lot. She was his port in the storm.
“Dave, you need to tell her goodbye. Maybe deep down she can hear you, but she’s in pain, and she’s not going to make it. It’s time. I’m sorry.”
Dave stared at Robert blankly for a second before burying his face in the sheets beside Stevie. Robert closed the door behind him and sat down. Cory sat down again and looked at the wall.
In less than half an hour, Dave came out of the room and sat down with the other two men.
“Today is a day of total and complete suckage. It’s the suckiest day ever.”
“Yep,” Dave agreed.
“What do ya think this means?” Cory asked calmly.
“Huh?”
“This here.” Cory stretched a leg out to Robert and Dave so that they could see his leg. Right above his boot was a scratch less than an inch long but swollen with what looked like purple bruises running up his leg. The scratch leaked smelly, thick pus down into his boot. He knew but needed them to see and know his time was short. The day was going to get deeper in suckage.
“Got an infected scratch.”
“Didn’t have it before. Didn’t have it before we tussled with those things; then, one grabbed my leg up under my jeans and scratched me.”
“Might be anything.” Robert shrugged, his eyes not meeting Cory’s eyes.
“Seems I know the particularly bad smell of this pus, awfully bad looking for a scratch a little over an hour old, and seems I recognize the bruising and swelling. I feel nauseated and a little dizzy, too.”
Robert gritted his teeth. “It could be anything.”
“Except it isn’t anything. It’s Red infection.”
“I don’t think I can handle this, C-Man. I gave Dale that shot after seeing him suffer, and Stevie, and I just don’t think this is the right day for you to have this shit going on.”
“Should I have picked a better day to get infected?”
“Yep.”
Cory laughed sadly, “I don’t like a world without my friends and Stevie. You don’t understand maybe, but Kimball Decker is the most amazing man I have ever known. He and Beth, who is also amazing, trusted me to take care of that little gal. I know I did the best I could and I don’t pity myself, but she was like a daughter to me. I felt like I was her daddy.”
“It’s hard, C Man.”
“I have been thinking that we’ll never see Port A again either, so I don’t care about this for myself, see? It don’t matter a bit. I’ve been ready to go, I guess. Was just waiting on you, but now, don’t guess I have a choice in the matter. I know it’s selfish, but I’m ready to cash it in. I’m tired, and I hate this for you two, but I’m glad it’s my time. I don’t wanna live in this world anymore cause you know what? I would kill someone and eat them to save Stevie.”
“Huh? Cory, the fever….”
“It ain’t the fever; I know what I mean even if it makes no sense. Stevie asked me if I could ever kill and eat someone, be that crude; I was all about ‘no’, but if it was my kid, then I would wanna feed that kid; we were talking yanno,” Cory told them. “We were talking specifics, but I think we were talking about what we would do for someone we love.”
“Ah.”
“And I figured out I would kill and eat people to save someone I love. I would do terrible things for someone I loved, and maybe that makes me selfish and horrible. But I wanted Stevie to live, so I let her marry you, Dave because I knew you’d make her have that horrible, terrible surgery and live. I’m that selfish. I wanted her here at whatever the cost.”
“I did, too,” Dave said, “humans are selfish by nature.”
“I wanted to make her abort the baby to save herself. I am just a selfish, man,” Cory said sadly.
Cory said, and the three smiled a little, “I hate to be the downer here, but one of you is gonna have to do me, or I can go in there with Stevie and do myself; it don’t matter to me.”
“I’m done,” Dave said.
“Awe, no,” Cory said.
“You are, huh?” Robert asked him.
“Yes, Stevie was all I had left and the baby. I’m tired too, and I’m done in as well. Cory, you son of a bitch, how come you get to have an excuse to go?”
“’Cause I’m selfish, and I called it first.”
“What if we draw straws or play rock, paper, and scissors for the job?” Robert asked. “Let’s all go. Together.”
“You done, Rob?”
“Yeah, if you and Dave are. I’m just as selfish as you guys; why do you get to be the selfish one, you big princess.”
“I can’t sleep, wake up, and find it’s just another day in zombie world. I’m finished,” Dave said, “I like the idea of going together.”
“It’s been an honor, Robert and Dave,” Cory said, “it really has, but I don’t know if I can do it; I’m a puss.”
“I’ll do it,” Dave said.
“You sure? You two could go look for Hannah and have a much more heroic death….”
“Nah, I’m done.”
“Me, too,” Robert added, “whenever you are ready, Dave. I have nothing left to say except ‘see ya on the other side.’ ”
“I guess it’s a fine day for it….” Dave swung his pistol up and fired two shots into Cory’s head so his friend never even knew it was coming.
Robert closed his eyes tightly and never heard the two shots that hit his head. Dave, screaming now and crying, could hardly wait to get his gun turned so the barrel was aimed at his own skull. He felt a rush of pure relief and excitement surge through him, washing away t
he pain and sadness. He felt happy and at peace already, stopped screaming, and let tears come for the joy he felt as he smiled broadly. “Hell, yes.” He pulled the trigger. “I’m on my way, Stevie.”
8
Port Arthur Island
It was twelve hours before the hurricane would wind down, but the island was already devastated as the winds blew at seventy-five miles per hour, and rain poured down.
Everyone was piled into four cabins, but wherever they were, they would have to remain since the island was fully flooded and the wind impossible to fight against. The crops were gone, washed away hours before. Trees were ripped from the ground and lost.
Buses and SUVs, which had remained parked for years, were picked up like toys and bounced around the floodwaters as if they weighed no more than the plastic trash that bobbed with them. Waves knocked the metal behemoths into the sides of the cabin, shuddering and shaking the buildings all the way down into their foundations.
The children had brought in many of the cats, kitten, dogs and puppies, but goats, cows, horses, and chickens tumbled in the water, bloated and drowned.
The horses were desperately needed for moving around the island and plowing, the cattle and chicken needed for their products and meat, and the goats gave milk and were pets. Pigs sank below the waves and were gone, along with a herd of sheep.
Life was taken that easily and quickly.
“What is it?” Beth whispered to Kim as he tried to look out a crack. The rain obscured his view, but he kept straining to see what was happening. The shutters were gone, and he could see outside when the lightning flashed.
“Come away from there,” Tory told her thirteen-year-old. He was showing Beth’s youngest, Willow, how the water was rising below them.
Willow’s brothers pulled her back toward the back wall of the loft, their eyes huge and frightened as Tory raised a hand to swat her son if he didn’t move. In the new world, thirteen year olds were just as difficult as they had been in the old days.
Katie handed out snacks to the other children, then coloring books, and small games for them to play, trying to keep them distracted.
They didn’t want to play with the pets anymore, worried because the dogs whined and worried over the puppies too much. Katie handed the kittens out again to be cuddled. Her sister, Georgie, who could sleep through anything, waved a hand to push away one of the kittens that chewed on her hair, flipped over, and went back to sleep.
The kitten settled on Georgie’s head, purring and kneading her ear.
Katie laughed as she watched the kitten.
Katie watched her mother, Beth, carefully. Over the years, Katie had learned that whatever Beth was thinking was shown in her movements. When Beth was happy, she tossed her long, dark hair and moved her hands as she spoke. When she was sad, she rubbed her forehead and looked at the ground a lot. Beth’s pacing and rubbing her thumb over her forefingers and then over knuckles, over and over showed Beth’s worry. Katie had seen the last habit a lot in the last few hours.
Beth’s knuckle had to be getting raw from being rubbed so much. Katie saw that her dad had noticed Mom’s hands, too.
After snacks and playing with the kitties, the younger children were tucked in sleeping bags. While some showed anxiety and had to be reassured a little, the others thought this was a wild and fun adventure and liked pretending to camp out. Katie sat down and tried to get comfortable but ended up just watching the older adults.
Katie was good with the children and loved keeping watch over them and over the pets that made the time pass quickly and kept her mind off things. But Katie didn’t feel safe: she felt nervous and trapped, almost claustrophobic in the cabin.
Beth watched Kimball, never taking her eyes off him. Katie registered that her mother was terrified as she followed Kimball with her eyes, watching him, taking some small amount of comfort from being able to see his eyes. While she had seen her mother with a variety of emotions, Katie knew Beth was always strong and reliable, but now, her mother, the paragon of iron-will, was hanging on by a thread.
Katie took a kitty and put it in Willow’s arms to hold. She didn’t know why this was important, but she felt it was the right thing to do.
Katie had seen Beth with Aunt Julia earlier, and both had looked nervous. Her mom had not acted this concerned even when they were on the buses, driving down here from up north, and there had been zombies all over the place. If zombies didn’t terrify her mom, then why did this storm?
Katie suddenly thought about her birth mother and how she had been bitten, given pills, and been drinking on the lounge chair at George’s house.
George had shot her birth mother when she turned. Katie had peeked out a window and had seen her mother lying on the chair with a bloody wound on her forehead.
She had run down the stairs, sneaking past Beth and the others, thrown open the back door to see her mother, and find out what was wrong with her head. “Her head bleeded,” she had said.
Some more things had happened, and Katie was jerked back inside; then, there was a lot of shooting and yelling, but she didn’t remember that part really since she had only been five.
But she remembered looking down and seeing the bloody wound. Beth had adopted her then and raised her; in fifteen years, Katie had never felt unsafe or as if she might lose one of her parents. She always felt safe.
Now, she wasn’t sure if she felt so safe.
“In another foot, it’s gonna be up here,” Carl reported as he looked at the water in the cabin. “It’s still coming up.”
“I guess we’ll get our feet wet,” Beth said absently but looked at Kim again, catching his eyes.
“Everything will get wet,” Carl said.
Although Katie was a woman, grown at twenty, she crossed the loft and flung herself into Beth’s arms. It terrified her when instead of laughing and saying everything was fine, Beth clasped Katie tightly.
“Shhh, Katie, shhh,” Beth whispered, “You’re okay. I’m here. You’re fine.”
“We’ll be okay,” Carl announced.
“Son of a bitch,” Kim cried out, stepping back from the crack he peered through. A flash of lightning answered the questions about the loud noise a half hour before that seemed to explode over the sounds of the howling wind and thundering rain.
“Kim,” Beth said.
“It’s gone; oh my, God….” Kim looked as it he might just try to run off and fall into the water; he looked like a panicked animal looking for a way to escape.
Steve didn’t know it was a wise medicinal choice, but he handed Kim a cup of bourbon. “Sip slowly.”
Kim, instead, knocked back the drink in one gulp and held the cup out for a refill. “Jessie’s cabin, it’s gone.”
“Gone?” Steve didn’t understand.
Carl asked, “How can it be gone?”
“You just can’t see it. Right?” Steve finished.
Kim sipped the next drink, savoring the burn. “No, I could see in the flash; I could see where it isn’t; it’s gone, yanked up from its foundation, and there’s nothing left of it. It blew away. That was what we heard; it crashed into the one next to it as it blew away.”
“But….” Beth didn’t finish her sentence. She was trying to work that thought out in her head, and it eluded her. In her mind’s eye, she could see the cabin and the people inside.
“Ivory Joe and Darius, they had sixteen people over there,” Steve said, “we need to…well…we have to find them; we need to….”
“Sixteen,” Beth repeated, putting faces to people and imagining them in the cabin.
“They’re gone; they couldn’t have survived that, and if they did, they were hurt; the water is too deep; besides, what can we do?”
“They are out treading, and, ” Carl said, but then he knew they couldn’t have stayed treading water for over half an hour in a storm.
Steve looked to Tory who shrugged. Steve stammered, “But….”
“We can’t swim in that storm,” Kim sa
t down, his arm around Beth and Katie. Willow climbed into his lap, and although she was seven now, she sucked her thumb as she rocked with fear; she had the kitten with her. She had heard his loud voice. Beth didn’t scold anyone; she simply looked at Steve with sad eyes.
Carl kicked at the edge of the loft. His boot was wet.
“The boat,” Jet said, “we can’t depend on staying here, can we?”
“It was barely hanging on by the rope, and it was hanging off the side; I saw it earlier. It’s gone now,” Kim told him.
“We have to stay. Everything is here…water and food,” Steve said. “Maybe the water is almost as deep as it’ll get; we’re on the second side now; we can hang on.”
“A few more hours are all we need,” Tory agreed.
“Maybe it won’t….” Jet’s response turned into a shout as he went flying through the air. In his mind, he was airborne a long time, soaring across the room, but it was only for a split second. He thought people flew over him. It hurt when he landed on the edge of a mattress.
For a time, he lay where he was, wondering what had happened and what was wrong. He thought he had hit his head somehow; he was dizzy and confused because it seemed as if he were lying at an angle, his feet below his arms and head. He thought his legs were wet. Something soft was at his feet besides the mattress.
Painfully, Jet turned over and saw the ceiling, but he was really lying on a slant; his legs were soaked. He saw he had landed on a yellow kitten and killed it; he felt a wave of sickness when he moved the tiny body.
The entire cabin was at a tilt, half the loft was under the water down past his feet, and the other side was dry. Pulling his feet up, he stood with his legs spread, trying to keep his balance.
“Jet?”
“Dad, what….” Hearing his dad’s voice was an answer to a prayer.
“We’ve been knocked off the foundation. The whole thing is gonna go,” Kim said, moving below where Jet stood, splashing in the sea water.
Jet tried to make sense of everything, but the flashlights were under water or lodged in places that caused the light to be confusing. It looked as if supplies had been thrown or had slid to the far side where there were covered by water. Jet knew a jar of pickles had broken because he smelled them. “Dad?”
