“Thanks base. We’ll stay here and guard until they get here.” Jeff clipped the radio to his belt again and turned to the kids who now looked frightened.
“Kids. Tell me what happened and quickly. You, girl. You’re the oldest, right?”
“Yes sir, I’m Lisa and I’m seven, Tommy is six.” She pointed at the figure on the mattress. “That’s Uncle George. He saved us when our mom and dad were killed by the monsters. We stayed at his place in the country but had to leave because they found us. We ran and hid for two days, then last night they found us again. Uncle George fought them and told us to run, so we did. We came here. The door was unlocked. Then a little later, our uncle found us. I don’t know how he did but he knew where we were.” She was starting to cry now and Jeff gave her a quick hug, then another for the little boy. Both clung to him.
Jeff figured the uncle found them the same way the zombies kept finding them. Kids make noise. You just can’t get them to stay quiet. They were probably talking loudly or banging stuff around and the uncle knew right where to go. Tough guy, evidently, to suffer so many wounds and keep going. Jeff nodded at the silent and barely alive figure with respect. Then he heard gunshots outside, followed closely by the front door slamming open. Jeff waited and within seconds a man and woman with a stretcher held between them had entered and were quickly stabilizing the wounded man. Or were trying to. Jeff saw an IV go in one arm and then they were lifting him onto the gurney.
“Give a hand,” one of them grunted, and Jeff grabbed the end next to the woman and lifted with her after slinging his crossbow across his back to join his rifle already there.
“Follow us, kids,” he called to the two children who were just standing there. He heard more gunshots and a shout.
“Hurry up in there. They’re coming out.”
They shuffled quickly to the front door, then out, and Jeff almost stopped in surprise. Already there were nearly fifty zombies converging on their location, which was unusual as there were over a half dozen people here firing on them. They should have been trying to hide again. What was making them come out? He cast a quick glance at the kids and remembered Newaygo’s broadcast from last night. Newaygo had experienced a big battle with the zombies last night, and of course came out on top, but they had warned that the undead bastards appeared to be going after the children.
Jeff un-slung his rifle as soon as they had the stretcher loaded, and started firing. Earl and Henry were already dropping the undead in clumps, and he joined them. Another hunter team had run up and started firing with them.
“You boys need to get in the truck and quit wasting ammunition,” a voice called out from behind them. It was the driver of the pickup that had followed the ambulance, calling to them. There were two shooters in the front seat and two in the back bed. Jeff nodded and they climbed in the back, the eight of them making a tight fit. The driver beeped his horn and the ambulance took off, sirens silent of course. Jeff hoped the uncle made it but he was not betting on it. The man was a major bite case. They were well clear of the zombies now and Jeff thumped the top of the cab and hollered for the driver to stop for a second. He and the teams would get off here. They still had zombies to kill and survivors to look for.
*****
DAY 8: 0900 ET FRIDAY NOVEMBER 11TH
Johnny grinned to himself, thinking about Celeste. Seven days ago they had simply been friends, although Johnny had been trying to get into her stuff for months, ever since she started working at Clear Haven Rehabilitation as an intern for the blind with Dr. Rossi. Clear Haven was one of those multi-task therapy centers that treated a variety of disabilities. Everything from various autisms, diabetes, and muscular sclerosis, to amputees, sports injuries and of course those with CP like himself. Only two blocks east of Mercy Hospital, the center resided just to the west of one of those huge pharmaceutical warehouses. On the other side of that facility was Baker College’s main campus. The thought saddened him somewhat as many they faced were obviously college-aged kids, a decade and a half younger than his thirty-six years. Guppy food obviously.
He grunted and took off down the wall again while greeting the many men, women and invalids there with their various weapons: mostly poles, fire axes, and clubs, but some with guns. Ammunition was getting scarce and they were conserving it as much as possible. If it were not for the vets and the soldiers who had evacuated from the hospital before it was overrun, they probably wouldn’t have any at all. Then, of course, they would have been guppy food. It was amazing how many of their vets had weapons stashed in the trunks of their cars, even in a supposedly gun-free zone. The National Guard men and women that had fallen back from the hospital and taken refuge with them had managed to bring most of their ammo supply with them, but even that had been limited. Now it was all but gone with only a few thousand rounds left.
He stumbled up one of the temporary staircases they had set against the wall every thirty feet or so, and looked out over the multitude of guppies arrayed against them. Well, lots more were out there today, moaning and acting all bad, and he shrugged while wondering if they’d survive another day. Already a third of those they started with were dead including all but two of the soldiers. He looked down at Celeste, waiting patiently for him to return, her trust total that he would not leave her behind. He sighed and limped back down, thinking back to their meeting months ago ...
Johnny saw the new girl in the cafeteria before she saw him. This was a good thing because the word had been out on him for a very long time. If he was lucky he’d either get a chance to talk some shit or, if really lucky, maybe a date before she wised up to him. He admired her side profile as he limped closer, dragging his left foot. Looking sweet, he thought, seeing long, raven-black hair framing a milk-white face set on as nice a figure as you can imagine, well, seated that is. He also noticed small but perky breasts on her as he got closer. Just before he set his tray down he noticed the white cane with its red tip lying on the table next to her. How cool. She was blind. Now she wouldn’t know what he looked like. He mentally chuckled evilly. The lack of those damn dark glasses the blind always wore had momentarily thrown him off but he was hitting his stride now.
“Mind if I join you?” he inquired pleasantly, knowing she could not actually see him as he sat down anyways.
“Oh no, please do. My name is Celeste and I’m Dr. Rossi’s new intern. I do not recognize your voice.”
“Johnny Clark. Pleased to meet you, Celeste, and if you don’t mind me saying so you have beautiful eyes.” She did have beautiful eyes, silver-grey eyes that went perfectly with the rest of her complexion, and that name. Perfect! He saw her freeze slightly at his comment about her eyes, and then silvery peals of laughter rang out through the large hall. She laughed hard enough that he saw her wipe her eyes, and figured the joke had finally worked.
“Thank you Johnny. Oh my God, that was actually funny. You know I’m blind, right?”
“Of course I do. It’s why I said that, but you do have beautiful eyes.” He saw her smile with delight as she leaned forward and he slid his chair back slightly, lifting himself while trying to see down her blouse. Almost instantly, her right hand rose and held her top closed near her neckline, and if anything, her smile became wider.
“Are you trying to look down my blouse?”
“Nooo. Not me, I was adjusting my chair.” He quickly dropped back in his seat, watching her as he sampled the beef stroganoff the kitchen staff was serving today. Then he reached in his shirt pocket, pulling out a foil-wrapped condom, and gently placed it on her tray near her glass of juice. Instantly her face turned and focused on the spot and one slender hand reached out, then a single delicate finger gently traced the round indentation in its surface. Her smile turned mischievous as she directed her visage to Johnny again.
“Isn’t this much too large for you?” she inquired sweetly. Then it was his turn to laugh hard enough to bring tears, and they had been friends ever since, but nothing more until five days ago.
&nbs
p; Johnny shook his head angrily. Fuck. Just when he had finally met someone that could match him in wit and caring, the guppies had to rear their undead heads. He sighed and continued limping down the line after carefully placing Celeste’s hand on his shoulder again. He prayed Loki wouldn’t fuck up their attempt to get word out with the CB they had been screwing with for days. So far nobody had responded because they only had a few miles’ range but they were still trying, removing batteries from the dozens of vehicles in the enclosed parking lot as each ran down in juice. He limped in that direction next.
It was amazing. He had gone from a picked on kid with cerebral palsy to the thirty-six-year-old leader of a bunch of fellow disabled; his life had turned for the better, or was it for the worse? But we are people, damnit! He cursed inwardly, remembering his awkward childhood and six attempts at suicide, only to fail each time. His parents had gone crazy trying to keep him from hurting himself, but he had truly hated his condition. Then in his teens and two car wrecks later, he started thinking maybe he couldn’t be killed. It was then he became a follower of Loki, one of the Norse pantheon of Gods. It seemed fitting really. A fucked up prankster being worshiped by another fucked up prankster. However, the rage he felt growing up was coming in use now with this constant daily fighting.
Now the warm comfort of Celeste’s hand on his shoulder kept him going. He wasn’t a quitter by any means. Nobody disabled was, really. Well, those that survived past childhood, that is. He shook his head angrily, refusing to remember that far back. Instead, he focused on the near past. When he knew his life had gone from really bad to totally fucked up. Fucking guppies.
*****
DAY 1: 1150 ET FRIDAY NOVEMBER 4TH
Johnny pulled into the rehabilitation clinic right on time. He always arrived an hour early because it let him spend lunch with Celeste. He had carefully arranged his scheduled therapy appointments at 1:00 PM, knowing Celeste had her lunch break from noon to 1:00. He grinned to himself. He was, as usual, ten minutes early. This gave him enough time to get to the offices she worked out of. He would walk in and wait for her to finish with her patient, then take her to lunch. It had become a weekly routine. Originally, his therapy was every two weeks, but he’d had that changed after meeting her. Loki, he hated those rubber-stretching exercises, but it was a small price to pay for the possible outcome.
Today had been eventful. There had been quite a few warnings on the radio about staying indoors because people who had gotten the flu shot were getting violent. He had listened with a small amount of worry as he drove into Muskegon. In the end he had ignored those warnings, for Celeste was waiting for him to take her to lunch. Besides, he hadn’t received the flu shot. He had a deep distrust of the government because of the shitty way people like him were treated. It wouldn’t surprise him at all to find out a virus was wiping out only people with disabilities. Most of those he knew hadn’t taken it either. It wasn’t their thing. If Uncle Sam said it was good for you then beware.
There were also many people on the streets. Whatever. Johnny had mid-term goals after all. Celeste was right at the top of that very short list. He had never broken a lunch date with her in the time he’d known her and wasn’t about to start now. He also had his Windlass Knob Cane Sword: a sweet, twenty-nine inch blade hidden inside a solid black aluminum sheath made to resemble a tall walking cane, and the same one featured in the Batman movie. Crazy flu shot victims didn’t bother him at all. If they pressed the issue, he would show them just how well he could use the damn thing.
Closing the door to his Toyota Celica, he thumped the foot pad of his cane down onto the hard asphalt, and with a smile on his face walked into the main entrance. Beatrice was there, and honestly she looked like a Beatrice. An older woman, a little heavy, well a lot heavy actually, but with a warm smile on her face as she greeted new arrivals.
“Hi, Johnny! You’re early for your appointment.” Then she winked. Hell, it was no secret to the staff that he really liked Celeste, and came early once a week to have lunch with her. Even Celeste knew, but didn’t mention it. He hated the thought she might be humoring him, but regardless, spending time in her company was always a great experience. It gave him something to dream about during his night shifts in accounting at the local Motel 6 chain.
“Hey Beatrice. How’s it hanging?”
“Oh Johnny! Is this where I say, low and to the right?” She giggled at him. God he hated gigglers.
“Yeah, you’re supposed to say that you know. It’s tradition.” He saw her roll her eyes in a friendly way as he signed in. They thought it was cute, he surmised, but the thought really didn’t matter to him as he winked at her and headed left to the blind therapy groups instead of right, then left, which led to the workout center for those with CP and MS. He heard her giggle again behind him and cringed.
“Johnny. Great to see you. Celeste is finishing up with a new girl we received this morning. Ready for your lunch date?” This was Doctor Rossi, doing his best at anal bed-side manners. He really was a nice guy, but thought it was ... cute that Johnny liked Celeste. He felt like punching him. People like people all the time. What the fuck! Johnny suspected the doctor actually thought it was cute someone with CP liked a blind girl. Johnny’s skin crawled at the thought. Screw that!
“Thanks Doctor Rossi.” Johnny had learned politeness early. It created fewer problems, even though he wanted to shove his sword down their throats then twist it. He took a seat as the doctor smiled at him again then went back to his charts. It was normal for the doctor to be in the main room going over charting with his nurses at this time. Everyone was getting ready to break for lunch and they all knew each other after all. He had been coming here for years. Then he saw Celeste.
She came walking down the corridor with confidence, leading a small, slender young girl, who wore thick black glasses. Celeste’s right hand was near her side, yet tilted outward, the wrist bent at a ninety-degree angle as she felt the walls beside her as she moved. Johnny recognized the signs. Celeste was showing the new patient hope and optimism for her condition. She was proving to the new blind girl that she could lead a normal life when in familiar surroundings, and even in unfamiliar ones. Then he heard faint gunshots. What the Hel?
*****
.
DAY 8: 0900 ET FRIDAY NOVEMBER 11TH
Jean almost howled in frustration as Jay received another emergency call. They were just about to make love, and she needed it. She needed the closeness, to feel his arms wrapped around her and have him inside her. Even just holding her would be nice. He was so busy, and though she knew he loved her without reservation she knew that she needed a little attention just for her, other than the brief moments they currently had. Maybe she was being selfish. She did not know, as her mind wasn’t right. It was too hung up on the man that had taken control of her mind, body, and emotions. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this way. Maybe in college when she first met her ex-husband, or maybe the first couple months with her ex-boyfriend Don. No, she had not felt this way with Don. He had been great at first, then quickly turned into the shit he now was. She sighed and hung her head. Right now she was miserable. She heard the door open again and didn’t bother to look up or even speak as the tears rolled down her face and fell into her lap.
“Mi niña! What is wrong?” Then Cara‘s arms were around her and Jean started sobbing.
“I’m so afraid, Cara. I’m afraid for our children. For our man, and the future. Will we survive tonight. Will we survive tomorrow?”
“Hush, novia me encanta.” Cara was telling the girlfriend she loved to hush, but she could see that it was more than that. The pain and love on her face could be plainly seen even through her tears. Jean rubbed her nose and answered.
“Tengo miedo, y necesito ser amado.” I‘m afraid, and I need to be loved, she responded.
“Companera. Come with me,” and then Jean was being pulled to her feet and led through the adjoining door into the bedroom area. Cara pushed her t
o the bed, then turned and locked the doors. Jean watched as the tiny Mexican girl stood with her back to her, then turned, showing Jean that tears were also streaming down her face. They ran to each other and held on tightly.
Then Cara was pushing her back to the bed. Jean did not resist and they fell into its softness while holding each other.
“Cara.”
“Hush girlfriend.”
“This is not what I wanted.”
“It is what you need. It is what I need.”
Then Cara lifted her head and kissed her. Slow and tenderly, Jean’s arms wrapped around her and her tears flowed even harder, as did Cara’s. She lay back and felt Cara slowly remove her clothing, one piece at a time. The chilliness of the room did not even register to Jean as she was absorbed in the feelings Cara was eliciting within her, the closeness, urgency, and need for love and comfort at this brief moment in time. She felt Cara’s lips and tongue over her bare breasts and Jean gasped, then wrapped her legs around the tiny girl.
*****
Chapter4
DAY 8: 1200 ET FRIDAY NOVEMBER 11TH
Rosita let herself into the room with the help of one of the soldiers. She had three covered plates in her hands, and a jug of iced tea tied with a strap over one shoulder. It was still hard getting used to the soldiers following her everywhere and helping. She now had a great many responsibilities and many people that depended on her. It was both exciting and frightening.
She had been told Ashley was up but hadn't left the room yet except to use the bathroom, and her Miguel was supposed to meet them for lunch. She was looking forward to seeing him. Before all this happened, her Miguel worked from sun up to sun down with little rest. She only saw him late at night when he came home from his second job. They cherished the weekends he had off which he spent only with her. Now he was working even harder but she saw him often, and he was happy. He was finally being recognized as a true leader of the community and Jay had given this to him. She smiled softly thinking of Jay, for she knew Jay would say Miguel had given himself this new recognition and that he, Jay, had nothing to do with it. She decided she would make Jay something special for his Sunday dinner.
Legacy of the Living Page 9
