Resistant Box Set

by Perrin Briar

  They did, and each time, Poe managed the requisite length. Now they just had to rely on the metal girder being strong enough to hold their weight. Hugo was also hoping the natural reflex to not want to fall hundreds of feet would ensure Poe wouldn’t hurl himself over the side. His instinct would tell him to aim for the girder.

  He hoped.

  Hugo took Poe by the hand and led him toward the girder. Dana sat up and watched as they finally began to make their move. They weren’t going for the center as she had, but for one of the sides. That was when she realized what Hugo’s plan was. It was dangerous for him, but probably his only chance of success.

  Hugo stepped onto the girder to ensure it could hold his weight. It groaned beneath him but did not snap. Hugo relaxed the grip he held on the tarmac. From here he could see the internal intricate bridge layers. Yes, he thought. Bridges were very interesting constructions indeed. But no matter how fascinating they were, it wasn’t enough to prevent feeling wracked by fear and shaking like a leaf.

  The wind whistled, howling through the protruding spikes. Hugo thought he’d felt the girder shift beneath his feet. But he had to have imagined it.

  He reached out and took Poe by the hand. He led him down onto the girder. Poe was extremely slow and careful with his movements. It was probably a good idea. It would have been impossible to comprehend how terrified Poe was if it wasn’t for how firmly he gripped Hugo’s hand. On the cusp of being painful.

  “It’s okay,” Hugo said. “Keep coming. That’s it. Don’t look down.”

  Poe didn’t and kept his eyes fixed firmly on Hugo’s.

  “That’s it,” Hugo said, edging backward. “One step at a time.”

  Hugo knew to keep his eyes fixed firmly on Poe, otherwise, he might be tempted to look down. If that happened, he would panic. Then there was no telling what might happen.

  Hugo used his peripheries to keep himself on track, heading back along the girder. It was only when his foot found nothing but empty space that he knew he’d reached the end of the first half of the snapped girder. He reached back with his foot to find the second half. Two feet suddenly felt like a long distance.

  Hugo stretched to reach it and firmly place his foot. The girder groaned beneath him. The wind howled and slapped at his face. His belly felt cold, the T-shirt he wore not big enough to cover his entire frame. His bare skin was cold and prickled with goosebumps.

  Still, Hugo did not take his eyes from Poe’s. Hugo muttered a prayer under his breath as he shifted his front foot and placed it beside his back one.

  This girder grumbled even louder this time. Hugo thought he could hear the faint fracturing of metal. But he did not stop. He dared not stop.

  “Okay, Poe,” Hugo said. “Come right up to the end of the girder. That’s it. A little more. That’s good.”

  Poe’s toes were almost hanging over the edge of the girder now.

  “Now,” Hugo said. “Bend your knees slightly, like the way we practiced before. Good, very good. Now, when I say, I want you to jump toward me. Okay? I want you to jump right in front of me. I’ll grab you and give you the biggest hug you’ve ever had, I promise. You just need to make this jump, and it will all be over.”

  Poe nodded. He waved his arms back and forth, back and forth.

  “Now,” Hugo said, timing himself to match Hugo’s movements. “Jump.”

  Poe did, throwing himself and his body weight forward. He landed on the girder. It squealed like a monster had been released.

  “We’ll have to put a hiatus on that hug for a little bit,” Hugo said. “Run! Come on! Run!”

  Hugo ran backward, no longer keeping his eyes on Poe, as he thundered along the girder and threw himself backward, spilling in the air and grabbing the thick layer of tarmac above them. His plan wasn’t to leave Poe behind but to aid him by removing his own bodyweight from the equation.

  But his weight had already done its damage. The girder swung to one side. Poe was still shuffling along it, racing to get to the overhang as fast as possible—which in his case wasn’t very fast at all.

  Poe latched his hands around the tarmac and held on tight. The girder they’d crossed was beneath them, swinging at a right angle to the bridge. Hugo still rested his feet on it. It gave way and fell, clanging against the legs of the bridge structure on its way down to the river below.

  A shadow appeared above them and looked down.

  “Dana…” Hugo said. “Help…”

  “I said I wouldn’t help you,” Dana said. “That he was your burden to bear.”

  “Please—” Hugo said.

  “But I guess you did manage to get across the bridge by yourself,” Dana said. “If I help you now, it wouldn’t really be breaking my promise, would it?”

  She crouched and extended a hand to Hugo. He seized her arm and kicked with his feet as she helped pull him up. The moment Hugo was on the tarmac, he rolled over and repeated the gesture with Poe. He grabbed him by the hand and, together, they eased Poe up onto the tarmac.

  Hugo and Poe were panting, out of breath.

  “Thank… Thank you,” Hugo said to Dana. “For… For your help.”

  “Did you honestly think I was going to let you die when you’re the only one who can decipher these printouts?” Dana said.

  “I swear, I’m going on a diet to end all diets,” Hugo said.

  “The good news is you’ve got the best motivation in the world,” Dana said. “If you don’t go on a diet, one day soon you’ll be part of someone else’s.”

  Chapter Eight

  They took turns keeping watch. Even Poe took a turn. He was actually better at it than the others because once he set his mind to something, he never deviated from it. The night passed without incident.

  The next morning, they packed up and ate breakfast. A delicious aroma of soft biscuits and cold baked beans. They headed north toward Hood Canal Bridge. It was on the northern tip of the peninsula. None of them had slept well, each of them suffering from a disrupted sleep cycle. Despite having someone on guard duty at all times, there was still the fear someone would fall asleep, leaving them exposed, as well as the usual bumps in the night.

  By midday, they were virtually walking zombies themselves. They decided to hole up for a couple of hours and get some a much-needed nap. They came to a dilapidated house halfway to Port Gamble, a delightful little house on the west coast of a great lake. The truth was, there was never a case of simply entering a house and falling asleep, not in the new world. They entered with their weapons raised, proceeding from one room to the next. They set Poe on watch duty at the front door. After searching each room, they found the house empty.

  They moved to the largest bedroom on the second floor. The bed was dilapidated and old, the springs jutting out like tiny monuments. None of them would be sleeping on that today.

  They got out their sleeping bags and set to eating a late lunch. Cheese on dry bread. A feast after their breakfast. Peering around at this house, Dana realized just how at odds it was to the one they had waiting for them back in Seattle. A palace in comparison. She hoped it would still be there waiting for them, without the old crone Debbie setting fire to it or otherwise destroying it.

  “It won’t be like this forever, you know,” Hugo said as if he could read her mind. “Most of the zombies will be gone within six to eighteen months.”

  “How do you figure that?” Dana said.

  “Based on my calculations,” Hugo said. “I don’t have access to really up-to-date information, but just based on what we’ve seen, eventually these monsters will run out of food. Eventually, the number of infected versus those Resistant or immune or simply still surviving will become equal. Then, they’ll have no choice but to eat each other. I remember reading about an academic who calculated how fast a virus might spread through the human population. It was something like (bN)(S… something. I can’t remember it.”

  “(bN)(S/N)Z = bSZ,” Poe said.

  Dana and Hugo turned to look at Poe
. He hadn’t said a word to them in the past. It was the first time he’d actually said something to them and it was the smartest thing Dana thought she’d ever heard anyone say.

  “Poe?” Hugo said. “You can talk?”

  Poe didn’t respond.

  “Maybe he can only talk through math,” Dana said. “What’s two plus two?”

  “Four,” Poe said.

  Hugo’s mouth dropped open. He clapped his hands with excitement.

  “Why didn’t he tell us he could do this before?” he said.

  “because we weren’t speaking a language he understood, I suppose,” Dana said.

  “Ten times ten,” Hugo said.

  “One hundred,” Poe said.

  “Oh my God,” Hugo said.

  “All right, all right,” Dana said. “Don’t cream your pants.”

  “What’s the square root of 1,065,738?” Hugo said.

  “1,032.34587227,” Poe said without hesitation.

  “Is he right?” Dana said.

  “I have no idea,” Hugo said.

  He picked up a stick and began drawing in the dirt. He couldn’t even get close to the number of decimal places Poe had.

  “It looks like he is, yes,” Hugo said. “He’s a math genius. Maybe he’s a savant. I know they sometimes struggle with emotions and things like that.”

  “Great,” Dana said, deadpan. “We’ve got a human calculator. I don’t much see how this helps us.”

  “Who knows,” Hugo said. “And don’t forget, the apocalypse will be over one day. Hugo’s brain might be what will take us out of the Stone Age and return us to the way the world was.”

  “What’ll it be then?” Dana said. “The post post-apocalypse?”

  “It’ll an exciting time,” Hugo said. “Especially for us. Actually, that’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. After all this. There will be a moment when all the madness dies down and there’ll be survivors, encampments. They’ll need items ferried from one place to another, trade. And we could be the ones to do it. The undead will be less interested in us than anyone else. We could do it. No one else could. And then we get a percentage of their goods for our own survival. Sounds good, right?”

  It did sound like it had its advantages, Dana thought. And it could provide Max with a kind of lifestyle that meant existing was much easier for her. There would be no need for her to struggle to get by. She could be comfortable.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Dana said. Assuming we get through rescuing Max alive. “We’d better get some sleep.”

  Hugo arranged their sleeping bags on the floor. All of their eyes were puffy with lack of sleep. They needed to catch a few winks if they were to keep their senses sharp.

  “I’ll take the first watch,” Dana said.

  She needed the time to think. The others didn’t say a word of complaint as they got in their bags and fell asleep almost instantly. Dana wished she could join them. She would, before long. Out the window, she could see the sea. Except, it wasn’t the sea. It couldn’t be. She checked the atlas they’d brought with them and saw it was a natural lake.

  She squinted when she thought she saw something out there, dancing across the surface like it was playing with her. It was a light, she realized. A single dim yellow dot swaying on the gentle lake. Something was in the middle that body of water. A buoy, perhaps? Or a boat? She didn’t know, and further, she didn’t much care.

  It was a good place to set yourself up to protect yourself, she reflected. If something came at you, you could escape to any area around the lake. On the map, that there was a large gap at the top where the river water entered and flooded the area. A great place to escape to the sea and beyond, if needs must. The only thing that would have put her off was the constant swaying of the water and boat under her feet. She wasn’t the best sailor and if—

  A low thud.

  Outside their door. They’d left it open a slice so they could see anything coming and escape if necessary. They had shut the door to give them a little added protection.

  Another thud. Louder and closer this time. The movement was slow, cumbersome. Dana considered waking the others but decided she didn’t want the extra noise.

  She crept over to the doorframe and listened as the footfalls came at a slow but determined pace up the stairs. A creak as it took an unsteady footstep. Dana recalled the same step she’d taken when she’d come up the steps herself. Third from the top. Whoever it was, was coming very slowly. Dana had no idea if it as a survivor or one of them.

  Then Dana could smell it.

  She pressed a hand over her mouth and nose at the stench of it. There could be no mistake now. It was one of them. An undead. And if there was one, there could well be many more. Dana would need to take the creature out as silently as she could to avoid garnering the attention of more of these things.

  A bump as the creature assaulted a wall. Dana took out her knife and held it to the doorframe’s edge. Her own breathing was loud in her ears. She waited as the figure’s shoulder began to round the doorframe.

  Dana changed her position, standing as she realized the zombie was larger than she’d first thought. She repositioned her knife so it was at her own eye level. The door creaked open as the monster pushed into it. It saw Hugo and Poe fast asleep in their sleeping bags. A tasty snack. It opened its mouth, its ruined tongue flapping out of its mouth. It raised its arms to fall upon them.

  Dana stepped in its path. The creature took a step into the room. Dana raised the blade of her knife another three inches, at the same height as the zombie’s left eye socket. The zombie stumbled forward. Dana caught the stub of its left ankle an instant before it was too late. It would limp. She corrected the angle of her blade, shifting accordingly, and angled it up at forty-five degrees.

  The creature’s attention shifted to Dana, its arms reaching, grasping for her. They were long and powerful instruments, even if bloodied and torn from whatever assault it had been subjected to in the past.

  Dana felt her knife spear the eyeball, causing it to pop, the juices running over her hand. Then her blade slid smoothly to the back of its eye socket, reaching its brain.

  Dana grabbed the undead with her free hand and held the back of its head. She didn’t react to the thick sticky goo that caked her digits. She needed only to prevent any further sound from escaping the creature now enclosed in her unmoving arms. Dana let out a sigh of relief. That was close!

  Snap.

  The creature’s weak neck broke. Its body slumped to the floor. The weight and momentum dragged the body over the top step and down the stairs with heavy thumps. Dana tossed the emaciated skull aside and wiped her hands on the mattress.

  Groans grew in volume from downstairs, a cacophony of noise.

  Hugo and Poe bolted upright.

  “Uh?” Hugo said. “Wha?”

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Dana said. “Now.”

  Chapter Nine

  Dana leaned through the empty doorway to find undead writhing up the stairs on their hands and knees. This time there was no slowness, no hesitancy. Some stopped, blocking the assault as they tucked into the fallen undead. But it wouldn’t hold them for long.

  Dana pulled back and closed the door silently behind her. Hugo was rolling up his and Poe’s sleeping bags, shoving them into their backpacks. Thanks to the food they’d eaten, it got easier every day to pack their bags. Not a good thing by any stretch of the imagination, but you took whatever silver lining you could find in this new world.

  “They’re coming up the stairs,” Dana said. “They’ll be here in minutes.”

  There was only one way out of the room, and that was the window. Dana moved to it and ducked behind the blinds. They bumped into her back. She grabbed them, tore them down, and tossed them aside. Then she pushed at the window. It was stuck.

  Of course it is.

  Dana pushed again. Still, it would not budge.

  “We don’t have time for this,” Dana said.


  She took a pair of steps back, braced her shoulder, and then slammed against the windowpane. The soft, rotten wood gave way, taking the entire window with it. It fell, but there was no smash sound. Looking out of the hole, Dana could see the land below was damp and marshy. Ideal for a soft landing, not so good for a rapid escape. But what choice did they have?

  “Go!” Dana said.

  The undead were already at the door, fingers and faces scrabbling at it. The wood of the doorframe was wet and weak. It would not last long before the weight of the undead on the other side forced it to give way. It was already splintering and buckling now.

  “Now!” Dana said.

  Hugo was the first to go through. He lifted himself onto the ledge. The moment he brought his legs around to hang outside, the wood cracked, tearing a large rent in the window, broadening it to the size of a standard door. Hugo hit the ground below.

  “Are you all right?” Dana said.

  “I’m fine,” Hugo said. “The ground here is super soft and marshy. Push Poe down. He’ll be fine.”

  “Sorry about this, Poe,” Dana said.

  She shoved him out the door-window. Poe fell, falling end over end, lacking any grace. He fell face-first onto the peaty moist earth. Hugo was on him, pulling him up and dusting the mud from his face.

  A grunt from below. This wasn’t from Poe nor Hugo’s throat, but an undead approaching from the other side of the house. Clearly, not all the undead had followed the noises to the upstairs bedroom. Dana checked over her shoulder.

  Half a dozen torn hands punched through the door and grasped for her through their newly-formed gaps in the doorframe. They would be through within seconds. Was there any way she could slow them down? she thought. The moment they got to the door-window they would fall upon them. She needed to delay them.

  Dana seized the mattress. It was as rotten as the house’s frame. She felt the vagrant springs jutting her in the back as she hefted it. She felt movement inside it and heard squeaks from tiny bucktoothed throats. She forced herself not to worry about that now.