by Jeff Olah
Three feet away and he extended his right arm. He reached for her. As he grabbed for her shirt she went down, so did he. The girl continued to scream, although at a much higher pitch and increased frenzy. She punched and kicked, pushed away and attempted to stand.
The crowd continuing toward them, Mason helped her to her feet. “It’s ok we’re here to help, go catch your brothers—”
Three Feeders came in quick. He was forced onto his back as the girl limped away and pushed backward as two more crawled on top of him. The first one came down hard, its teeth chattering as it pushed in toward his face and neck. Mason grabbed it by both sides of its head and rammed his thumbs into the beast’s eye sockets. It came back for more as Mason torqued its head to the right and broke its neck.
Sliding out from under the motionless Feeder, another piled on and then a third and a fourth. His chest was about to explode as they continued to surround his body. His breathing labored and slow, Mason fought to force his chest to expand.
He craned his neck backward and saw Randy and the others pass through the area, unaware that he was under the incensed crowd. Beginning to cough and his breath trapped in his throat, Mason’s vision blinked momentarily.
Speaking to himself, he fought to stay conscious. “Breathe… just focus, don’t lose your—”
The sound of rapid gunfire approached and then faded away. He was slipping.
The flashes of darkness increased and as the weight of the crowd surrendered, Mason grew weary. He swallowed one last time and turned to see Randy in the distance, knelt next to the two boys and their sister. They’d made it. They were safe.
No one spoke as they walked back to the vehicles. Death had been as much a part of this new world as anything ever was. It never became routine and although frequent, the thoughts of helplessness never felt more real. Today the group acted as one and saved an eleven-year-old girl and her twin brothers.
Making room for the children in the SUV, Randy pulled back onto the highway and fell in line once again, behind the others. Savannah jumped back into the delivery truck and took Brian’s spot behind the wheel as tears rolled down her face. Without turning to look into the rear cabin, she pulled away from the side of the road and continued toward the shore.
Entering the desolate city limits and into the heart of downtown, they’d yet to run across any trouble. The area had seen its fair share of destruction. Although with the first wave of survivors moving out of the densely populated areas, the creatures that fed on their flesh moved out of the city and into the ravaged countryside.
As they moved through the barren streets, Brian spoke quietly with Lockwood as he replaced the weapons. The others sat in silence, watching and waiting. “What are we gonna do?”
Lockwood sat forward. “There isn’t anything to do, just wait.”
“You do realize I can hear you?” His eyes blinked open and he coughed once again, attempting to fill his lungs.
Slapping Mason on the shoulder, Brian grinned. “Good to have you back. Don’t ever do that again.”
“I remember going down,” Mason said. “And the little girl getting away. Did we help them?”
“They’re fine. They’re all riding with Randy and Megan.”
“What happened?”
“You were knocked to the ground and put up a pretty good fight. You were doing well until you blacked out. A few of my men and I took care of the small group that had you pinned down. We scooped you up and dragged you back to the truck. I’m still stumped as to how you weren’t bit.”
Mason laid his head back and turned to the side, trying to get a glimpse out the front window. “Brian… thank you.”
“Sure.”
“How long was I out?” Mason asked.
“Maybe two minutes, maybe a bit longer. I’m not really sure, but it wasn’t too long.”
“Where are we?”
“We’re about five miles from the shore. We may just make it there by sundown after all.”
168
The first thirty days at the shore passed much more quickly than any other time since the world died. Much to do, the twenty-six people attempting to make a new life for themselves in the beachside community took up residence at the former home of Dr. Eugene Lockwood. Cramped and somewhat uneasy due to the stillness of the world outside, the new and extended family ate by candlelight and told stories of how they survived the first days of the infection.
For the first twenty-four hours, the group stayed under one roof while discussing their plans for securing the area. One of the women in Brian’s inner circle, a former contractor name Kate, had located a massive home improvement center on the way into town. She and eight of the men began working on the wall that would enclose the eight house community.
Within three weeks, the homes were chosen and supply route and run times established. Stores in the city were picked clean one by one as well as the homes nearby. Although as the boundaries of their search widened, so did the hazards.
Randy, Megan, and Savannah had a mission of their own, and although he hated the cold ocean water, Mason came along for added security. Each morning along with Brian, they walked the shoreline, heading in the opposite direction every other day and expanding their range. On day thirty-two, they located their presumable savior.
Less than one hundred yards off shore sat a forty-three-foot fishing boat. They watched from the shore for close to half an hour before deciding to swim out. Brian convinced Randy to accompany him, and as usual it turned into a race.
Standing between Megan and Savannah, Mason laughed at the lead Brian had taken on Randy. “I’m guessing he had no idea what Brian did for a living?”
Megan turned to Mason. “Olympic swimmer?”
“Not even close,” Mason said. “He was a deep sea fisherman, although the guy swims like he’s being chased by a shark.”
Savannah laughed. “That’s probably because he usually is.”
“Is he safe out there?” Megan asked.
“Randy?” Mason said. “He’ll be fine, Brian will wait for him at the boat, and it’s not like they’re swimming across the ocean. It’s just right there.”
“Anyway,” Savanah said. “What’s up with you and Randy?”
“Whatta ya mean me and Randy? Uh… I mean, you know… he’s a super nice guy and fun to hang around with.”
“You’re kidding right?” Savannah looked out at the ocean and then back to Megan. “Everyone knows and it’s pretty obvious. It’s not like we didn’t see you two sneaking into each other’s rooms at Blackmore. We’re not dumb. Everyone saw it.”
“We just wanted to be low key,” Megan said. “And take it slow.”
Mason chuckled.
“What was that?” Megan said. “What’s funny?”
As the men reached the boat and boarded, Mason gave a thumbs up. “Megan, we’re living at the end of civilization. I think it’s okay for you and Randy to take things as fast as you want… no regrets, right?”
“I guess you’re right. But anyway, now that we have a boat, does that mean we get something other than vending machine food for dinner from now on?”
Mason nodded as the boat moved diagonally across the horizon with Brian at the controls. “I think if Brian has it his way, were all going to be sick of fish in a matter of days. That’s all he’s been talking about since he found out Lockwood’s house was here.”
At seven a.m. on the sixty-sixth morning, Mason sat trading stories with Savannah where the ocean reached up and licked the sand. He mostly listened as she attempted to convince him that the world before the infection wasn’t so bad. “I even started taking dance classes. I had one scheduled for the day of the outbreak. Man, I really wanted to finish that class.”
“Hey,” Mason said. “No one is stopping you from dancing now?”
“You really want to see what I look like after only a few classes? I serious doubt—”
The sliding glass doors parted and Lockwood ran faster than either of th
em had seen to date or even figured was possible. He moved much quicker than a man his age should and although they’d guess his expression as fright, they were wrong.
“Mason, we’ve got to go. Not all of us, just a few, but we need to leave today. It’s imperative, it has to be today. I’ll pack up my things and you’ll need to get enough of what we’ll need for at least two weeks.” He paused only long enough to take a breath and then ran back toward the house.
“Okay, so it appears he’s been stuck in that lab for a bit too long,” Mason said. “Let’s go see what this is about, and don’t think you’re getting out of that dance. I have to see it.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Up the steps and across the wooden deck, Mason followed Savannah into the living room, through the narrow hall, and down into Lockwood’s office. “Doc, what’s going on? Why are you so excited?”
“I can’t explain everything just yet, although Sean and I have been communicating with another group of scientists in Oregon. They are very close to a breakthrough and need my help, along with my research. They are isolated in a hospital in Portland and we believe that with our combined research, we may beat this thing.”
“You’re serious?”
“Absolutely, but we have to go today. I’ve exhausted my capabilities here and without their equipment and research, I may never conquer this on my own.”
“Do you know how long it will take us to get to Portland,” Mason asked. “If we make it at all?”
“Mason, you aren’t listening. We don’t have a choice. We have to go, we have to go now.”
“Eight-hundred-fifty miles,” Sean said. “Give or take.”
“What?” Mason asked.
“It’s about eight-hundred-fifty miles,” Sean said. “Probably take you two days if you don’t run into any problems and assuming you stop to sleep. If you take turns, you could be there by midnight.”
Mason shook his head. “Just you and I?”
“No, let’s take the SUV and have two others come with us. Safety in numbers.”
“One condition,” Mason said. “This goes wrong and we turn right around and come home… you good with that?”
“Whatever you say, now let’s get going.”
169
Present Day…
Making their way along Highway One and crossing the county line, the temperature started to climb. The rear seat began to feel less like his fortress of solitude and took on the atmosphere he deemed equivalent of a state penitentiary. Not particularly comfortable, Mason wedged himself between the seat and the door. He opened the window just enough to feel the cool night air flow in, closed his eyes, and began to drift.
Her face, the first memory he could recall was grainy and having been filtered through many years of regret, felt like it was whitewashed. She didn’t look up at him right away. He moved from the hostess stand to the arched doorway as she finished her conversation.
Noticing she was about to turn and head his way, Mason pushed open the large mahogany door and stepped out into the night air. She moved quickly and stayed two steps ahead of the others. The black evening dress and matching heels told him this must have been a special occasion.
Before reaching the door, she turned and spoke to those following her, he assumed to confirm their subsequent plans. To his count there were three others. An older couple and another woman, roughly the same age as the angel that instantly robbed him of every ounce of composure he possessed.
She looked up at him as she walked through the door and smiled. Mason wanted to speak, but at the moment he was unable to form anything resembling a clever though. He did what he was supposed to do. He said, “Hello.”
Speaking to her friend, she stopped mid-sentence and turned back to him. “I’m sorry?”
His knees went weak and his mind blanked. If coming up with hello was the best he could do as an opener, this was not going to end well. “Hi,” he said as his upper lip began to quiver with a life of its own. “I’m good to meet you, it’s Mason.”
She giggled.
“Wow, I’d be way better at this if you we’re so beautiful. My name is Mason.” He extended his hand and waited.
She paused.
Her friend pushed her forward and said, “If you don’t take the poor guy’s hand, I will.”
She smiled.
Mason stepped away from the door, took a step toward her, and she took his hand. “My name is April… and by the way, thank you for holding the door for me and my family.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said. “If you don’t mind—”
“April,” the elder gentleman called out, “the show starts in thirty minutes.”
“I’ve got to go, although I’ll be here tomorrow night with a few friends if you’d like to meet up.”
“Sounds great,” Mason said. “I’ll be the guy who still can’t speak.”
She leaned in and placed her hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t need to try so hard. I noticed you the minute I walked in this place. If you hadn’t held the door open for me, I would have made sure we met somehow, and trust me, we’ll meet again.”
He showed up at the same upscale restaurant ever night for a week. On the seventh day, he walked in and began to make his usual sweep around the interior. Nothing. He started for the outdoor seating and was caught from behind.
The hands around his eyes were too small to be that of a man, and also way too delicate. He stood off to the side of the waiter’s station and didn’t move.
“Guess who?” came the voice, warm and soft on the back of his neck.
Again he didn’t speak, although he felt she could sense his smile even standing behind him. She released her hands and he turned to face her. Her features were soft and at the same time unforgettable. Features that would enhance any beauty product she chose to use, although she didn’t. Her smile infectious, April took his hand and led him back to her table.
“You’re late,” she said. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t—”
Her voice trailing off and the faded image of her face began to glow; they were instead replaced with the sounds of shrieking metal against metal, multiple voices firing on the inside of his head, and headlights flooding in through the windshield.
As the SUV slid into the guardrail, there wasn’t anything he could do. He tried to react, although not fully back in this world, his reaction time was dreadfully slow. Mason forced his eyes open in time to see the wall of water rushing up toward them, the headlights emphasizing the spot they’d entered the ocean.
For a moment they were weightless. The SUV and its contents dropped the twenty-five feet in less than a second. The front and side airbags deployed in an explosion of finely granulated powder that blanketed the interior. Only two of the four passengers remained conscious.
Mason twisted in his seat and pulled off the seatbelt as water poured in through his open window. As the interior lights blinked twice and failed, the SUV rolled onto its side and began taking on water at an increased rate.
Bracing himself against the door, he unlatched Lockwood’s seatbelt and pulled him toward the door. As the water reached his waist and the floorboards became submerged, Mason drove his elbow backward through the window. He leaned to the side and pushed Dr. Lockwood through the opening and fell out into the frigid water himself.
The doctor slipped into the water and dropped below the surface. Mason pushed off the door and grabbed Lockwood by the collar, struggling to tread water as he searched for shore. To his right the SUV dipped below the surface and found its home on the shallow ocean floor.
Spotting an area of churning water to his left, Mason swam the short distance, towing Lockwood toward the rocks. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he shouted.
Up onto the packed dirt, Mason carried Lockwood past the jagged rocks and dropped him into the sand. The impact pushed air back into Lockwood’s lungs as he rolled to his side and vomited the contents of his stomach out onto the moonlit beach.
Mason turne
d to see their fourth passenger, Jack rise to the surface. He began swimming to the shore, coughing as he tried to speak. “Savannah… she’s—”
“Damn it.” Mason dove back into the water and moving past Jack, he arched his back and kicked his legs, propelling himself toward the SUV. She was still strapped to the seat as Mason entered through the open front passenger door.
She struggled against the seatbelt as her time ran out. Savannah gave in to the chest crushing pain and sucked what felt like ten gallons of water. Mason moved in and depressed the lone red button, releasing her from the seat.
Pulling her out through the open door, Mason pushed off the roof of the SUV. His hands still wrapped tightly around her arms, he made it to the surface for a brief moment, just long enough to once again fill his lungs with air.
Rolling onto his back and kicking through the bone-chilling water, Mason pulled her toward the shore. Her face still submerged, he forced Savannah further onto him and continued. By the time he reached the shore, her body felt as though it outweighed Lockwood’s by a good thirty pounds.
Over the rocks and across the sand, Mason laid her on her back and rested his ear on her mouth.
Nothing.
He ran his fingers along the underside of her neck, praying for a pulse.
Nothing.
Turning to Lockwood, now kneeling in the sand, Mason slammed his fist into the sand, “You need to explain this to me right now…what the hell happened?”
170
Her red hair was now matted with golden flecks of dried sand. Under the direct light of the full moon they looked intentional, almost elegant. She appeared calm, her body relaxed. Although as water slowly trickled out of her mouth, the time to act was slipping away.
