Rise of the Dead (Book 2): Return of the Dead

by Dyson, Jeremy

  “Don’t suppose I can talk you into sharing those with me?” Steven asks.

  “You can try,” I smile. I pop a salty chip in my mouth and crunch it loudly with my teeth. “Probably isn’t going to do you much good, though.”

  “You going to make me beg?” he asks.

  I shrug and let him watch me remove another chip out of the crinkling bag and slip it between my lips before I respond.

  “Didn’t your mom ever teach you how to ask nicely when you want something?” I tell him. “I mean, you didn’t even use the magic word.”

  “To hell with you,” Steven laughs. “Give me a goddamn chip already.”

  He reaches out to try and grab the bag out of my hand but I move the bag away from him in time. Steven tugs at my arm and reaches for the bag again and I swat his hand away and clutch the bag to my chest.

  “Get away you asshole,” I yell at him.

  Steven eases back into his seat with that stupid smirk on his face. He definitely isn’t getting any chips now.

  “You stay over there,” I warn him. “I’m serious.”

  He raises his hands in surrender, then sits back and allows me to eat in peace. Even if he is being annoying, it still makes me feel better just to act like everything is still normal every now and then. But everything is not normal. This is not normal. I feel like the minute I let all of this feel normal, there will be no chance of ever going back again.

  A memory from last year suddenly comes back to me. I was sitting next to Kevin on the couch in tiny office talking to a psychologist. I had been depressed or whatever for a while and thought maybe marriage counseling might help bring us together again. Kevin agreed to go, but he mostly just sat there sighing and insisting things were okay.

  “This is normal,” he said over and over again.

  That just pissed me off like most of the other inconsiderate things he did. I started to cry. At the time, my world felt pretty far from okay. My life felt pointless and unfulfilling and just... empty. It all seems so silly now, but I couldn’t see past it at the time. I was too busy wishing things were better to see how good I already had it.

  The trucks slow to a stop and I swivel in my seat to see a school bus with a flat tire abandoned in the road. Hernacki gets out and walks over to check the vehicle. He steps inside the open door of the bus and looks around the cabin. A moment later he emerges.

  “She’s out of gas,” he announces. “Can probably move her if we give her some juice.”

  “Hurry it up,” Lorento urges him.

  “Top off our tanks too while you’re at it,” Hoff adds.

  The young soldier nods and jogs back to the truck and retrieves a container of fuel. I scan the woods for any sign of movement, but all seems quiet. My eyes drift upward and I watch the wispy clouds float across the sky. If it weren’t for the whole end of the world thing, today would be a beautiful day. My mind slips back into remembering, and I try to latch on to some nice memory of days like this from my old life but I can’t. It’s already getting harder to block out the horrors enough to find something pleasant that still remains in my mind.

  “You okay?” Steven asks.

  I realize he must have been watching me staring at nothing for several minutes while I was lost in my thoughts.

  “Just tired,” I lie. “Spacing out a little.”

  “I hear you,” Steven sighs. “It’s just, you were doing that thing you do when you’re worried.”

  “What thing?”

  “Biting your bottom lip,” he says and brings a finger up to his lips, as if clarify what he means.

  “I don’t do that,” I insist. “Do I?”

  Steven nods.

  “I’m kind of alarmed that you’ve been studying me enough to know that,” I chide him.

  “I can’t help that I’m observant,” he laughs.

  “No, really, it’s kind of creepy, Steven.”

  “You also have a way of changing the subject whenever something is bothering you.”

  I break eye contact with him and stare back at the country road behind us as though I am checking for signs of trouble.

  “What is it?” Steven presses me.

  “The day this whole thing started, I told my husband I didn’t think I loved him anymore. That’s the last thing I said to him. He stormed off to the bar and just never came home. I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for that.”

  “Scout,” Steven interrupts.

  “No,” I continue. “You don’t understand. I did love him. I just wanted to, I don’t know, get a reaction out of him, I guess. It was so stupid and selfish of me.”

  I stare down at my shoes and try not to cry. There are good reasons I don’t bring up the past. I already regret bringing it up now. It just came pouring out of me. Maybe what happened to James brought everything boiling up to the surface. Since it’s out there now, I might as well finish it.

  “For a few days I kept hoping that maybe he would come back. I couldn’t eat or sleep. If I could have gone out looking for him I would have, but I knew I’d have no chance out there with the kids. When I finally did sleep, I was so tired, it just happened. My eyes wouldn’t stay open any longer. I should have locked up the gun.”

  “Jesus,” Steven sighs.

  “Zack was so terrified when the gun went off. I jumped up and grabbed him and snatched the gun out of his hands. He started crying so hard. For a couple minutes, I hugged him while he sobbed and told him everything was okay. I had no idea anything was really wrong until I heard Kyle let out a moan behind me. I turned around and saw the blood on his shirt as he got to his feet. Before I even realized he was already dead he bit Zack on the arm. Three days later, Zack was dead, too.”

  “I’m sorry,” Steven says.

  “It was all my fault,” I admit. “All of it. If I hadn’t fought with Kevin that morning it all might have turned out differently.”

  “It’s not fair to beat yourself up over that, Scout,” Steven says. “You’ve got to let it all go.”

  “I don’t think I will ever be able to do that.”

  “It’s not what they’d want for you,” Steven says. “You have to know that.”

  “What you’re saying should make me feel better, but it doesn’t.”

  “I wish I had done a lot of things different, too,” Steven adds. “But nothing good comes from wishing you can change the past. Nothing.”

  The door of the Humvee slams shut and Hoff starts the truck up again. The tires churn over the pavement as we continue down the road. I force a smile to let Steven think I feel better just so we can stop talking about it now. It is a relief to finally tell someone. I’ve carried the weight of it alone for too long. But even after getting it off my chest, I still don’t feel any less guilty for being alive.

  Fifteen

  For the next hour, I watch as farmhouses and pastures slip by alongside the road. The Humvees cruise over the open roads beneath the scorching summer sun. Eventually the vehicles pull into a gas station alongside the road. The area surrounding the gas pumps and the convenience store is deserted, so we stop to refuel. I get out of the truck to stretch my legs and look around for a spot to go to the bathroom. For some reason, even during the apocalypse, I always have to pee whenever I am stuck in the car too long.

  “I’m going to have a look around inside,” I tell Steven.

  “You want me to come along?” he asks.

  “I’ll be all right,” I tell him and sling my rifle over my shoulder before heading for the shattered glass doors of the convenience mart.

  “Check the liquor aisle for me,” Nick calls. I pause and look back over my shoulder to see him finishing off the last of a bottle of whiskey and tossing out the window of the truck. The bottle makes a popping sound as it shatters on the pavement.

  “Watch it, asshole,” Lorento snaps at him as she steps around the front of the Humvee.

  The inside of the store is dim and reeks like an outhouse. After coming in from the bright sunlight i
t takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to dark. I hold the rifle low, but ready, with my finger poised over the trigger. As my vision adjusts, I scan the empty racks and refrigerators. There are hundreds of empty wrappers scattered on the floor. I locate the restrooms at the back of the store and push open the door of the ladies room. The scent of urine and feces rushes outward and causes me to take a few steps back as the door swings closed again. I’m definitely not attempting to go back in there. Reluctantly, I push the door to the men’s room open a crack to discover the same horrific smell.

  “What the fuck?” I shudder. I guess I will have to go outside, again. I turn to leave the building when I hear the sound of a glass bottle rolling along the floor. My eyes dart around the store but everything is still. The voice inside my head is screaming for me to get the hell out of there. I take a step toward the front door, but then I notice the open door to the cooler behind the beverage case along the back wall.

  “Hello?” I call.

  No response. Fuck. That’s never good. If a stiff is back there, it would have started going nuts at the sound of my voice. Whoever is in the cooler is probably still alive. They’re either afraid, or they’re setting a trap to kill me. So, I raise the rifle and approach the door. I step on an empty bag of potato chips and the crunching noise makes me freeze for a moment. I try to peer through the empty beverage cases but can’t see anything in the darkness behind them. Since no one has shot at me yet, I decide to take a chance and rush the doorway.

  “Don’t move,” I bark as I peer around the edge of the cooler door. There is a human shape cowering in the dark corner of the room. I keep the rifle raised.

  “Just go away,” a voice pleads. The guy has a thick accent. India, maybe.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” I assure him. “Do you have a weapon?”

  “No,” the man says. “I don’t have shit!”

  “Come out here where I can see you,” I urge him.

  “Fuck,” the man whines. “I don’t want to die.”

  “Good,” I say. “I don’t want to have to kill anyone else today. So, just come out here and let me help you.”

  A pause.

  “All right,” the man agrees. “I’m coming out.”

  Even though he doesn’t seem like a threat, I step back from the doorway to keep a safe distance anyway. I’ve been through enough already to know it’s not a good idea to trust anyone right away these days, no matter how harmless they might seem. The young, dark-skinned man emerges from the cooler.

  “Who are you?” I ask him.

  “My name is Midhun,” he says. “Please don’t point the gun at me.”

  “Not until you tell me what the hell you were doing hiding back there?” I ask him.

  “I’m waiting for my brother,” Midhun explains. He lowers his eyes to avoid looking at the muzzle of the rifle. “This is his store.”

  “Where is he?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” he says. “I came here the first day looking for him but he never come back.”

  “Jesus,” I say. “You’ve been here since this all started?”

  He nods.

  No wonder the store smells like it does.

  “Please don’t shoot me. There’s nothing left here anymore. Thieves have come and taken everything from me, you see?” He sweeps his arm in an arc to indicate the empty store.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him.

  The man waves his hand dismissively.

  “Just go,” he sighs. He turns his back to me and walks over to sit on a stack of empty milk crates. “There is nothing left for you to take. Go!”

  I lower the rifle and take a step toward him.

  “I’m not here to take anything,” I assure him. “Why didn’t you ever leave here?”

  “Because,” he says. “I wait here so that my brother can find me.”

  “You want some water?” I ask him. “Maybe some food?”

  Midhun looks at me skeptically.

  “I have plenty outside in the truck,” I say.

  “I have no way to pay you,” he sighs.

  “You don’t have to,” I say. “Come on.”

  He turns his head to look at the Humvees idling outside the store. I leave him to decide and walk back out through the shattered door frame. When I get halfway to the vehicles, I pause and look back over my shoulder to see the man emerging from the doorway. In the daylight, the accumulated grime and stains on his clothes make him seem even more forlorn. He lifts a hand to block the sun from his eyes.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Hoff asks as he finishes topping off the tank of the Humvee.

  “Jesus Christ,” Lorento mutters and shakes her head.

  “He needs our help,” I tell her.

  “He’s not coming with,” Lorento says.

  I ignore her and climb into the back of the truck. I pry open a case of MRE’s and grab a couple plastic bottles of water. With a grunt, I hop back down and wave Midhun over to the truck and twist off the cap of a water bottle and hand it to him.

  He smiles and clasps his hands together and mumbles some kind of thanks in another language, at least that’s what it sounds like. He gulps eagerly from the bottle, the water trickling down his cheeks as he tilts the bottle upward.

  “Does he even speak English?” Lorento asks.

  “Yes, he speaks English,” I growl.

  “I speak seven languages,” Midhun says after wiping his mouth dry with a filthy sleeve. “English, Hindi, Bengali—”

  “I don’t give a shit, Apu,” Lorento interrupts him.

  Hoff lets out a chuckle but falls silent when he notices the look I am giving him.

  “He’s not coming with, Scout,” Lorento insists and folds her arms across her chest.

  “We need all the help we can get,” I remind her.

  “You know how to use a gun?” she asks Midhun. “Can you fight?”

  “I’m a peaceful man,” Midhun says.

  “That’s great. He is not coming with us, Scout,” Lorento repeats.

  “Then neither am I,” I tell her.

  “It’s okay. I will wait here,” Midhun gestures at the remnants of the gas station. “For my brother. He will be coming.”

  “See, he doesn’t even want to come,” Lorento argues.

  “You can’t stay here anymore, Midhun,” I explain. “If your brother was alive he would have come back already.”

  “This is a waste of time,” Lorento interrupts.

  “My brother is most definitely alive,” Midhun says. “I am certain of it.”

  “So come with us,” I tell him. “We will help you look for him.”

  “No, we won’t,” Lorento says.

  “I will,” I insist. “I will help you look for him. Once we finish everything.”

  “We’re not taking a goddamn gas station clerk along for the ride,” Lorento growls at me.

  “Engineer,” Midhun corrects her.

  “What?” Lorento asks.

  “You said I was a gas station clerk, but that was my brother’s job. I am a mechanical engineer,” Midhun says.

  Lorento pauses for a moment to consider this new bit of information.

  “Whatever,” Lorento sighs. “If you’re coming, hurry it up. Everybody get back in the damn trucks. We wasted enough time here.”

  Midhun turns and begins to climb into the back of the truck. As I wait for him to get out of the way so I can haul myself back into the bed of the Humvee, I see Lorento glaring at me out of the corner of my eye. I’ve never been one to argue with someone. Even when they piss me off. Even when they deserve it. Seeing my disinterest, she turns her attention to Steven and waits until he makes eye contact with her.

  “Is she always picking up strays like this?” Lorento asks him.

  “Everywhere she goes,” Steven smiles.

  “She should know that some day it will get her killed,” Lorento says.

  I look over and see her scowling at me. She waits for me to respond for a moment before she sh
akes her head again and heads for the lead truck.

  “Looks like you already pissed off your new friend,” Steven smirks as he climbs into the back of the truck behind me.

  “I guess,” I shrug.

  The loud engine of the Humvee starts once more and I gaze off into the sky. As the trucks pull onto the highway, I watch Midhun smiling at the trees we pass as if he suddenly had no cares in the world. It makes me feel better about everything, even if I did piss off Lorento.

  Sixteen

  As the afternoon drags on, I spot charred trees along the horizon. Ashes float around in the air and cover the road in a thin layer as we get close to the scene. There isn’t any smoke, so the fire must have died out, but the town is nothing more than scorched earth now. The highway passes along the outskirts of town, but close enough that I can spot a charred corpse here and there crawling among debris. As we leave the town behind us, I notice the tire tracks in the ash we left in our wake.

  For the next hour we ride in silence through the open farmland, a sure sign we were getting close to Iowa. A river comes into the view off to the right that I guess is the Mississippi, but I can’t be sure. I’m not that familiar with this area. I feel the burn from the afternoon sun on my skin. It will probably hurt like hell tonight and keep me from sleeping. Not like I’d been sleeping that well to begin with.

  Finally we reach the Des Moines River and the state line. By the angle of the sun in the sky, I guess it to be around five or six in the evening already. We pull off the road at the entrance to a rock quarry. Lorento gets out of the truck and checks the GPS device aside a map of the state. Hernacki and Hoff gather around her— the younger Navy Seal kicks at the rocks half-heartedly with his boots, while Hoff gazes at the rock quarry and frees sunflower seeds from their shells in his mouth.