by Guy James
72
“It looks like it’s about to rain,” Lorie said. “Let’s get this lit up while we still can.”
Sven watched as the girl took the firework out of her pocket and fiddled with it, propping it up on its built-in stand. She set it up so that the front part of the rocket peeped through the fence, pointing a direct course to the hibachi restaurant’s open back door.
“It’s nice this fence is here, huh?” Sven asked dumbly. He didn’t know what else to say, he felt a little scared of Lorie after what she had done back in the restaurant. It was a good thing she was on his side—was she on his side? He hoped so.
Sven’s ankle hurt, and his foot was numb. The zombie hand’s grip must have cut off all blood flow to his foot and toes. He was surprised that he hadn’t noticed it before, probably on account of all the adrenalin, and not having a moment to stop and do a self pat-down.
He wiggled his toes in his shoes and felt some movement, but it hurt to walk on the foot, like it was asleep. Sven put a tentative finger on his chest and pressed. It was getting worse, as was his strained neck, and the way things were going, he wouldn’t be surprised if the benching accident had popped some important blood vessels. He was racking up injuries that day, and that didn’t bode well for him as the day wore on.
Lorie looked up from her task. “Yeah, so what are we gonna do if Jane doesn’t come back?”
Sven didn’t know what to say. She had to come back. Why had she left in the first place? She wouldn’t just abandon him and Lorie like that, would she?
“Something must have happened, but she’ll come back, I know her.”
“It doesn’t look it,” Lorie said. “I mean it doesn’t look like anything happened. There aren’t any zombies here, what would she have been driving away from?”
Sven looked at Lorie, who was crouched behind the firework, making her visual measurements. She turned around and looked him in the eye, and he was sure they were both thinking the same thing. Jane had been driving away from them, not away from the zombies, but from them.
Lorie confirmed his thought. She said, “You think the fewer people are together the better their chances? You think we should be striking out on our own?”
“No. No, I think the group can get too big and get in trouble that way, but it’s probably better not to be alone. Then again, what am I relying on? I’ve never been in this situation before, and it’s not like we can really use what we’ve seen in the movies as examples of how to behave.”
Lorie gave a nod and smiled wanly. “Thanks.”
“What? For what?”
“For giving a real answer. I don’t know either, how can we, right?”
Sven shrugged. “I could use a steak right now, and a nap.”
“Maybe this’ll all be over soon enough.” Lorie turned back to adjust the firework, then back to Sven. “Okay, you ready to get in on this?”
Sven took a deep breath and sighed. “You bet.” He crouched down next to Lorie. She dug in her pocket and withdrew a book of matches. She ripped one out, folded the top of the packet back to wedge the match in the lighting strip, and, with a pull and a crack, expertly lit the match. She looked at the flame for a second, and Sven could see she was grinning. Sven felt he was grinning too, and was amazed that Lorie could make him feel a little bit like a kid, even while they were in the midst of an infection that might claim their lives.
She lit the rocket’s wick.
“Alright,” Sven said, “let’s back up a little.”
But Lorie didn’t react. She looked up at the sky, then down at the lit wick, then at the match that was slowly burning its way down to her thumb and forefinger. Then her grin grew into a broad smile. She brought the match to the rocket’s wick again, this time lighting it as far in on the exposed part of the wick as she could.
Then she moved to the side opposite Sven, giving the rocket about ten feet of clearance. At least she was moving backward with him, to get farther from the restaurant’s explosion. The fence was a good distance away from the restaurant, and Sven wasn’t sure how far they really needed to back up to be safe. Would there be a fireball? Would there be flying glass and cooking pots and shrimp? Would there even be an explosion?
“Why don’t you back up a little more?” Sven asked. He was giving the rocket at least fifteen feet of clearance. He didn’t feel comfortable around exploding things, but Lorie obviously did. She didn’t hear his request, and he figured she was far enough away…so long as she stayed put.
Then the rocket exploded off its stand with a loud pop, kicking up a clod of smoking dirt behind it. Sven saw the fire of the explosion glint off the blade of the butcher knife Lorie was clutching, and then he turned to follow the rocket.
It flew straight into the restaurant’s open back door.
“Bull’s-eye!” Lorie cried, and Sven couldn’t help smiling.
He resumed backing up, and he was glad to see out of the corner of his eye that Lorie was backing up too. He was bracing himself for an explosion, for the loud bang, for the rattling ground, for the shattering glass.
But nothing happened.
Lorie crossed over to Sven, eyes still locked on the building.
“I guess we messed it up,” she said.
To his own surprise, Sven felt disappointed. “Nothing in real life works the way it does in the movies.”
“Guess not.” Then Lorie’s face brightened. “We’ll have to try again.”
Lorie began to walk toward the gate, swinging the butcher knife in her left hand as she went.
“What? No, not—”
Thunder erupted from inside the restaurant, and for a moment, it lit up like an unimaginative, rectangular jack-o-lantern. Then the building was gone, and a dark cloud was moving up and out toward the fence.
Lorie tottered backward, dropping her knife, and Sven grabbed her and pulled her around. It seemed like it took forever as he tried to keep his balance on the shaking ground. Then he put his arm around her and pushed her down onto the grass as gently as he could, covering her with his own body. With his free hand he reflexively covered the back of his head.
Then it began to rain. But it wasn’t rain. Little bits of something stung at the backs of Sven’s bare legs, at his back, which wasn’t so bad because it was covered, and at the back of his hand covering his head.
He lay there, terrified, expecting to feel a big piece of something land on his back, or on his head, and end his day. He wondered if he should have picked the girl up and run, but falling on the ground had been his instinctive response.
No big piece of anything came, and the falling bits sputtered to a stop. Then Lorie and Sven both rolled over and sat up, coughing in the dust. Lorie helped Sven up, and they retreated toward the road, distancing themselves from the expanding dust cloud. They stopped at the edge of the field, and Lorie narrowed her eyes at where the restaurant had been.
“It looks like we got it pretty good,” she said, then coughed.
Sven wiped at his legs and the back of his neck, trying to get the coating of dust off and trying to avoid the small burnt spots on his skin. “I don’t want to blow anything up anymore.”
Lorie laughed. “You have to admit, that was pretty awesome. Look—” Lorie was poking in the grass with her toe, “—there are roasted zombie pieces all over.”
Sven looked, and when he saw that she was right, he shuddered in disgust. He disgusted himself further when he noted that the charred zombie bits reminded him that he needed to get some protein into his body to heal faster—definitely not zombie protein though, that was surely contagious.
“I don’t mean to ruin the mood,” Sven said, “but we need to start thinking about finding some shelter. Food and shelter.”
Lorie looked down. “So it’s just you and me now. I miss my mom. Sorry. I mean. She’s one of them now, a zombie. She and Evan’s father, they were together, you know, and, now…”
“I’m sorry. My best friend, he…”
“This is
the worst huh?”
“As bad as it gets.”
Lorie turned away and wiped at her face. Sven felt about as bad emotionally, as depressed, as he had so far that day. It had come on so suddenly.
They stood in silence for a while.
Then Lorie turned back, her voice cracking as she spoke. “So where to Mr. Svensky?” She made her trembling lips into a smile.
He had no idea. “Okay, let’s think for a minute. There was a ton of them on 29 before we turned in here. We couldn’t get around them. We can try to cut deeper into the woods there.” Sven pointed into the thickening woods to the east, knowing he didn’t want to go that way. “Or we can loop around toward 29 and see if we can hole up somewhere. But we need supplies, and weapons.”
Lorie’s head perked up, and she jogged back toward the fence. She bent down to pick something up, and came back over to Sven with her butcher knife.
“Where will we get weapons?” she asked.
“There’s a gun store up the road. I drive past it all the time. It’s not that far from here now. And, I’ve only been in there once with one of my gun-nut friends, so I don’t remember for sure, but they have a lot of hunting supplies, so I bet they have some kind of survival food.”
“Locking ourselves in a place with guns seems like a pretty great idea to me. Let’s take our chances with that.” Lorie pointed to the woods. “I’m not going in there, we’ll probably get shot by a human, and wouldn’t that be a stupid ending to this whole zombie mess?”
Sven grinned. “It’d be appropriate. Have you seen Night of the Living Dead?”
“Seen what?”
“Never mind.”
“I’m really hungry. I’d love a—”
Then Lorie ran behind him, and Sven turned to see his car making its way down the winding road toward the field.
73
Jane stopped the car next to the field, without going over the curb. She left the engine running, rolled the windows down all the way, and stepped out of the car. She was trembling, and her stomach was in knots. She could still feel where the zombie had squeezed her foot, and it felt like it wasn’t going to go away. She glanced down to make sure the hand really was gone. It was.
Sven and Lorie were there, walking toward her, and they looked alright, thank God for that.
Then Jane heard a scraping sound, and she whirled around to see what it was, but it was only Ivan, who excitedly leapt past her, through the car window. He landed gracefully in the grass and drew near to Sven and Lorie, sniffing at each of them with a cat’s head-tilting curiosity. He must have finally smelled something that satisfied him, because he began to meander around the two, rubbing against their legs and purring.
Jane turned to Sven. “Did you get it? Did you get something for Evan?”
“Yeah,” Sven said, and he showed her a bottle of pills. She took it and looked at the label. It was what they needed, at least as far as getting the boy’s fever down.
“Okay,” Jane said, then took a bottle of water from the front of the car—the one that she was now reserving for Evan—and opened the rear door to find Evan lying on his side across the seat. He looked a little better. His skin wasn’t quite as sallow, and he was awake.
“How you doing?” Jane asked.
“My throat hurts.”
“Let me see how your fever is.” Jane reached out and touched the boy’s forehead with the back of her hand. She was dimly aware of Sven and Lorie watching her as she went about looking at the boy. They weren’t saying anything.
Evan was still hot, and his face was slick with sweat.
“Here,” Jane said, popping the pill bottle open and taking out a pill. “Take this and wash it down with as much water as you can drink. It’ll make you feel better, then in a few hours—four to six I think—we’ll give you another one.” Jane knew the pills, and she remembered taking them herself when she was sick—which had been most of the time when she was growing up. The package hadn’t been as shiny back then, but the pills even smelled the same way they had years ago.
“Okay.” Evan nodded and obeyed, gulping the pill down with a loud swallow.
“Now lie down and relax. I’ll keep the door open so you can get some air in here.”
Jane backed out of the car, careful not to bump her head on the way out, then she turned back to Sven and Lorie, who were eyeing her curiously. Sven was covered in dust and there were little black, sooty marks all over his legs and shirt. He looked ridiculous standing there in a shirt, his boxer shorts, and sneakers. Lorie seemed to be keeping tabs on her surroundings. She looked from Jane, to Sven, then spun around, looking in all directions while brandishing her large knife. Then she looked back to Jane and started her cycle again.
Nothing will sneak up on her that way, Jane thought, maybe not even a zombie underneath a car. How had it gotten there? How had—Jane shook her head.
“What happened to your pants?” Jane asked, trying to lighten the mood. She was surprised at how much her voice shook.
“The zombies got ‘em,” Sven replied, then he walked around to the car, screwed in the gas cap that was still unfastened, and shut the gas door.
Jane nodded. “Yeah, I saw the whole thing. It would’ve been funny if you weren’t almost killed.”
“Look,” Lorie said, pointing to where the restaurant had been. “We blew it up, and a bunch of zombies with it! I kinda hoped there would be fireworks coming out of it, but I guess we just used that one and it wasn’t enough.”
Jane gave Lorie a searching look. Lorie was acting strange, but then, considering the circumstances, who wouldn’t be? They were likely each going crazy, making all kinds of mental leaps to deal with the reality of the situation.
“You guys did that? I thought there was an earthquake or something, but then I saw the dust, are you sure that was such a good idea Sven?” Jane looked at the pants-less giant, still as immature as ever.
He shrugged. “Sorry?”
“I think it’s time we had a pow-wow,” Jane said, “a serious discussion.”
“About the restaurant thing?” Sven asked. “Come on, I mean there are more important—”
“It was my idea!” Lorie burst in. “It’s not his fault, I made him.”
“Enough,” Jane said, and she must have said it effectively because it got both Sven and Lorie to stop interrupting each other with explanations. “I mean I think we should talk about what’s happening, and what we know so far, so that we have a better chance of making it through this. For all we know, the whole planet is like this now. We need to think about what to do, about how to act.”
“But,” Sven began, “my mom said that only Virginia was affected.”
“Only Virginia?” Lorie asked. “That sucks.”
“Yeah,” Sven said, and was beginning to say more when Jane interrupted him.
“Just because your mother says so,” Jane said, “doesn’t make it so. Things may have changed already. Let’s start at the beginning, okay? We talk, then we go.”
“Alright, alright,” Sven said. “Way to take charge.”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to yell,” Jane said. “I’m just freaking out, obviously, and I’m not gonna let them get me…one of them, when I was getting gas…”
“You got us gas?” Sven asked.
“Filled it up most of the way before I had to go.”
“Good stuff, thanks.” Sven looked thoughtful. “Actually, no offense, but let’s talk while we drive. That mass of them could be making its way farther up 29, and then we might be blocked in here. I think regardless of what we decide is happening, we’re gonna need weapons, right?”
“Right!” Lorie said. “Weapons!”
Jane looked down at the girl and saw for the first time just how big the butcher knife was, comically so in Lorie’s grasp. Jane was about to say something, but then thought better of it.
“You’re right,” Jane said. “I’ll drive.”
They all got in the car, Jane turned it around, got
on
Hillsdale Drive, and off they went.
74
Jane decided she was going to set the tone for their discussion, so as soon as they were on their way, she began.
“Okay, first, since you brought us all face masks, let’s talk about that. Let’s talk about the smell.”
“I think that’s how they get you!” Lorie cried, sitting up excitedly and gripping the back of the passenger seat in which Sven now sat. “It’s like they hypnotize you or brainwash you or something, and you can’t move and you’re confused and then you’re dead!”
“I think you’re right,” Jane said. “It’s part of their disease or whatever they have, like a cloud they travel in.”
“Yeah,” Sven said. “It smells pretty terrible.”
“So we wear the masks when we’re around them,” Jane said, “and try not to be around them in the first place.”
Sven nodded. “Yeah, also, it sometimes sneaks up on you, I mean it’s snuck up on me, so maybe we should try not to breathe too deeply while this is going on. I mean test the air—” Sven made sniffing noises, “—to make sure it’s okay before we breathe in too much.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing,” Lorie agreed.
“Okay,” Jane said, “and I guess that brings us to what is actually happening. What do you guys think?”
“I don’t feel so good,” Evan said. “Sorry, I think I’m going to throw up again.”
“Lorie,” Jane said, “there are some bags back there, can you help Evan?” Jane hoped the girl would agree, because it wasn’t a good time to stop, there were shambling zombies about, and Jane wanted very badly to get to the gun store without any more stops.
“Okay,” Lorie said, sounding reluctant.
Jane tried to ignore the retching sounds from behind her and went on. “So it’s some kind of illness? That’s what it seems like to me, my roommate was very sick before she…well…you know.”
“It’s a virus,” Lorie said, with a note of eagerness that Jane thought was a little odd considering the girl was holding Evan’s vomit bag. “But we didn’t get it, and so long as we stay away from the zombies, we won’t get it. Right Sven?”
