“How are you two this morning?”
“We're good. You sleep alright?” “ Yes, thank you. And, Allah willing, I will sleep soundly again tonight. We have been most blessed to have survived so easily these days, and I have been seeing God's hand in this more and more.”
“ No offense, Amir, but I'm not in the mood for a religious conversation right now. I'm feeling a bit less than blessed at the moment.” He laughed and looked back at his cards.
“ Have it your way, but be thankful for what we do have. Do not slip into the trap of negative thinking.” Amir turned away from them and sat in the corner, eating his pears while paging through the Quran.
Clive turned back to Alice and they continued their game.
“So, how long have you been a cop?” “ Less than a year. Just in time, huh? I guess this means I won't be staying on the job long enough to earn a pension.”
She let out a little laugh, and blushed. “Sorry, I wasn't laughing at you.” “ No, don't worry about it. We need laughter more than ever these days, just to maintain our sanity. The whole situation is so unbelievably absurd, sometimes its hard not to laugh. Or cry, depending on the moment.”
“I've never seen you do either.”
“Either what?” He gazed at her steadily and cocked his head to the side.
“Laugh or cry.” “ It doesn't mean I don't feel like it at times. I guess in these situations, I just ask myself what my father would do. He was always the strong, silent type. If he was alive during this outbreak, I have no doubt he'd still be standing, gritting his teeth and getting the job done, whatever it may be. I guess we all need someone to look up to, someone to model ourselves after. What about you?”
“Role model? I don't know, really. I haven't known a lot of people worth admiring.”
“That's sad. Not even your parents?”
“Especially not my parents.”
“Why?”
She winced. “Sorry, I really don't want to dig up those memories right now.”
“Sure. Maybe another time.” They played for a little while longer, in silence, before they heard a howl outside that sent a shiver through their spine. Everyone froze and looked towards the door, waiting. Another howl, and Clive breathed a sigh of relief.
“ Don't worry, it's not human. It sounds like a wolf.”
“I suppose that with no cars on the roads, and no people walking about, they're free to come and go as they please. The infection hasn't seemed to affect the wildlife, and I have a feeling that the animals are the ones who will be ruling this brave new world of ours.”
“What's a wolf doing in the city limits?” “ Are we really sure this problem has spread that far? How do we know that it's not just a local infection?”
“ Well, my radio mentioned a pandemic sweeping the continents, and I can only assume it's the same one we're dealing with here.”
They all sat silently, ruminating over the bleak outcome. The rest of the day passed fairly quietly, nobody really interested in holding conversations, speaking no more than necessary. Night fell and they all laid down to sleep, except Amir, who still paged through his Quran by flashlight, until his batteries flickered and failed, and he too fell asleep.
A pounding on the door woke them all. Clive hesitated, before shining his flashlight on the door, revealing a panic-stricken man, who pleaded for help. They all looked on, too startled and frightened to move, and the man soon left the door. A shriek echoed in the streets and the man's screaming ceased.
Clive's heart plummeted and he grimaced. “We should have let him in.”
Amir shrugged. “How could we have known he was not one of the infected?”
“He was speaking. The infected don't talk.”
“But if we let him in, we could have let in whoever was chasing him.” Alice interrupted. “The question is, how did he know we were in here?”
his face. I think he was just trying the safest looking building on the street, saw ours, with metal shutters drawn and door barred, and thought that he'd find safety here. And we just stood and watched.”
“I don't think he did, until I shone my light in
“Every man is responsible for his own life. We could not risk it. It is not our fault.”
“I'm an officer of the law. I swore an oath to serve and protect. And I just broke that oath.” “ An officer of the law? Are you still getting a paycheck? Did you clock in for work today? I did not think so. You are an officer of nothing. You are just another ordinary person, like the rest of us.”
“ Maybe it's just about getting a paycheck to some, but it means more than that to me. When I promise to do something, I keep my promise.”
“Shut up, Amir. I don't need you rubbing salt in the wound. You trying to make me feel worse?”
“Except for now.” “ No, I am just trying to make you see that what just happened is nobody's fault. If there is something that you must blame, blame the infection.”
“I don't want to pass the blame. I just wanted that poor man to live.” “ What if we were not in here? What if this place was empty, and the door was locked? That man would be in the same position.”
“But we are in here. We are here, and we could have saved him.” “ I feel great sorrow for the man's death, but I do not see any reason to take on unnecessary guilt. And now I am going to lay myself down to sleep, because if something goes wrong tomorrow, I will need my strength, and so will you. Get some rest.”
Amir laid back down and rolled over, his back to the others. Alice walked over to Clive and rubbed his back gently. “Amir's right, it's not your fault. Get some sleep, so we can be ready to face another day.”
Clive nodded and laid back down. Sleep came for the others soon enough, but not for him. He tossed and turned all night and when he finally fell asleep, he was haunted by visions of the dead man. It was a long night.
Chapter Nineteen
Ammunition
Paul and John walked down the narrow street, side by side.
“I still can't believe we're doing this.” John whispered. “ No shit, but we need the ammunition, or we're screwed.” Paul double-checked his pistol, and nervously cocked and uncocked it.
They reached an intersection and Paul spoke up. “Let's take a left here, down Lincoln. It's quicker.”
“That's way slower than just staying on this street and turning on Maple.” “ Are you kidding me? Lincoln is the obvious shortcut.”
John shook his head. “Fuck it, let's just go your way.”
Paul nodded and the pair continued down the street. The silence was unnerving and they both maintained a rapid pace. A couple turns later, they could see their destination looming on the horizon, Hamilton Sporting Goods. The parking lot was nearly empty except for a few cars and some overturned shopping carts. They reached the door and Paul pulled a flashlight out of his pocket.
The inside of the building was dark and the automatic doors refused to budge. Paul nodded to John, and the brothers pried their fingers between the doors and pulled. They managed to open it just enough to squeeze through.
Once inside, they felt safer and began to talk a little louder.
“So what do you think about Eileen?” John paused mid-step, before continuing. “I don't know. She seems nice enough.” He turned and looked at Paul. “Don't tell me you have a crush on her, during all this bullshit? That's a bad idea, man. Don't get attached like that, you'll be opening yourself up to disappointment.”
Paul frowned. “How do you know she won't like me back? What, am I really that bad?” “ I didn't mean it like that. Sure, she might like you, but what'll you do if she doesn't? And, hell, we don't even know if we're going to live to see tomorrow, and you're worrying about something like that? Besides, if she doesn't like you back, then you'll be stuck around your new unrequited love, and we both know how unbearable that can be. Remember Jennifer?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I remember Jennifer. This is nothing like that. And aren't you the one who keeps say
ing that we need to hold out hope?”
“Well, all I'm saying is, be careful. We don't need you getting depressed. Now let's get moving.”
They advanced in the darkness and reached the hunting department. Orange jackets reflected bright in the glow of the sweeping flashlight and various knives and bows surrounded them. In the back was a row of rifles, standing upright in a glass case. They walked up to the display and studied them for a minute.
“What do you say? Take a couple of these?”
“Do we really need them? We have the pistols.” Paul shook his head. “Yeah, but what if one of them breaks? Plus, only I know anything about gun maintenance. What if I wasn't around and your gun jammed on you? It wouldn't hurt to have a backup.”
“Alright, let's grab four, one for everyone.”
“ Okay, I'll break the glass.” Paul raised his flashlight high in the air, but John grabbed his arm and stopped him.
“ Let's at least look for the key first. No sense in making unnecessary noise and drawing attention.”
Paul blushed. “Oh, yeah. Good idea.” He shone his light over the counter and John grabbed a keyring that dangled out of the register. “Maybe one of these will work.”
He fumbled with the keys, trying them one by one, before he stopped and smiled. “Got it.”
The glass case slid open and John started grabbing rifles. “ Wait, don't just grab any old gun. Let me pick, at least I know what to look for. Here, hold the light.”
Paul scanned the display carefully,
occasionally grabbing a gun, and inspecting it closely. He finally settled on the best four and laid them on the countertop.
“ Now we just need ammo.” He opened his backpack and started pulling boxes of bullets out from the display and tossing them in. The selection was limited and his pack was only half full before he was done.
John carefully put the rifles into his own pack and the brothers headed home. Eileen winced and gently scratched her broken arm. The makeshift sling was made from an itchy wool blanket and it was driving her nuts.
“ You okay?” Isaac stood up and walked to where she sat. “Anything I can get for you?” “No thank you. I just wish this break would heal up faster. How long do they usually take to heal?”
“Oh, probably a good few weeks, I'd imagine.” She sighed, not knowing how she would handle the coming weeks. At least she was safe. Despite everything, she was lucky to have found them.
“So, Isaac, what did you do, before the outbreak?”
“You mean, as a job?”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing. I was homeless.”
“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -” His eyes twinkled. “Don't worry, it doesn't bother me at all. I was homeless by choice. Used to have a normal job, mundane life, and one day, I woke up, and just felt incredibly suffocated by my surroundings. Smothered with my responsibilities. So I left my job, sold my house, donated the money to charity, and set off on my own. Rediscovered the thrill of life again, the adventure to be found in everyday existence.”
“So you were homeless by choice?” He nodded. “Yes mam, and I'd never been happier. It's like that Beatles' song used to say, something about how 'when all your prized possessions start to bring you down.' That's how I felt. Overwhelmed by my material attachments. So I shed them all and started to really live again. Traveled, saw the world, India, Greece, Patagonia, Vietnam, all over, really. If given the choice to do it all over again, I'd do it in a heartbeat.”
“ Wow. I don't even know what to say. You're far braver than me. I could never just cut myself loose like that. I guess I just loved my work too much.”
“Let's turn the tables. So what did you do before the outbreak?”
“I was a teacher at the school you three plundered.” “ Ah, teaching, one of the most underrated and undervalued professions. A truly noble calling. I can see why you'd be so attached to your work. It must cause you terrible grief to know that there's nobody left to teach.”
She looked down at her feet. “Yeah, it does. It feels like my time was all wasted. None of my students ever had the opportunity to use their education.”
“ That doesn't make it a waste. By that logic, everything we've ever done was a waste, because all our efforts would be undone by this tragedy. Hell, by that logic,
everything anyone's ever done was a waste, past and present, since the true purpose of everyone's lives is to create and foster a world where their offspring can flourish, and now it's all over. But that's not really true, is it? Because what really matters is the little things, the individual moments that make up the day. It's the now that matters, not the past or the future. You've got to live for the present.”
She sighed. “No offense, but I don't really want to live for this present.” Isaac laughed. “Well, I know it's bleak, an apocalypse of sorts, but we're still alive, we've got food in our bellies, and for now we're safe. And we've got each other: you, me, and the boys.”
Eileen stared into Isaac's soft, gentle eyes. “You really care for them, don't you?” “ I've only known them for a few short weeks, but yes, I have come to care for them. They're good kids, down to the core, and that's a rare find these days.”
They shared a brief silence, before Isaac walked over to the counter. “Let's eat.” He opened a can of green beans and poured a little into each bowl. He handed her one and sat down next to her on the couch. “It ain't much, but at least it's something.”
They ate and Eileen was surprised to find she was so hungry that she devoured the bowl in minutes. They were bland and mildly
unpleasant, but, like Isaac said, at least it was something. She looked at the clock on the wall, and frowned.
“They've been gone a while now. You don't think anything's wrong, do you?”
“No, it's too early to start worrying. I'm sure they're perfectly fine.” Paul pumped his legs furiously and took a few panicked shots behind him. John had a slight lead, but being the poorer shot, Paul took it upon himself to lay down covering fire. He chanced a look behind and saw the five running bodies steadily getting closer. Debating his choices, he decided to risk it.
“Stop and fire, John!” Paul pivoted and began unloading his clip into the group. Two bodies fell and a third stumbled. Behind, he heard his brother firing and felt a searing pain in his right arm. He looked at the wound, saw the blood trickling down his elbow.
“ You shot me, you asshole!” He continued firing, until his gun clicked empty and a lone figure, continuing its charge, crashed into him hard. Falling to the floor, his pistol flew from his hands and he felt the back of his skull smack into the pavement hard. The impact sent him into a daze and the man on top of him clawed at him with gnarled fingers. He just watched, too stunned to move, until John ripped the man off of him and shot it point blank in the skull.
John helped him to his feet. “You okay, man?”
Paul shook the confusion from his head and frowned. “You shot me. What the fuck were you thinking?”
“Sorry, I'm not as good of a shot as you.” “ Well, no shit. My arm is killing me. Check my head. Am I bleeding?” He touched the back of his head gingerly and inspected his fingers.
“No, you're fine. Let's get moving before – oh, god dammit.” They both turned and looked, seeing a new crowd of infected several blocks down, heading their way.
“Move!” They both ran and made a sharp turn at the intersection. Their apartment building stood eighty feet ahead and by the time they reached it they were panting heavily. Climbing the ladders, they flopped onto the roof, before clanging metal made them jump back to their feet. Paul grabbed one of the new rifles and loaded it, peering over the edge. One of the infected was already halfway up the ladder and the rest were following.
Lining up a shot, he knocked the first one down and it fell three stories, landing with a sickening crunch. The next one was also dispatched with ease. “John, you mind helping out here?”
John fumbled with a rifle. “I can't figure out
how to load it.” Paul sighed. “Never mind. I'll do this myself.” He continued firing and soon there was nothing left but a pile of twisted corpses at the bottom of the ladder.
“ We'll need to move those bodies. But not now. I'm too tired to do anything but smoke and drink.
The brothers stood still for a moment, basking in their victory. Heading inside, they were greeted by Eileen and Isaac with relief. Isaac patched up Paul's gunshot wound.
“ You're lucky it's only a flesh wound.” He said as he stitched the torn flesh together. Paul bit down on his belt and motioned to John for a drink. Pouring him a glass of straight vodka, he handed it to his brother and Paul downed it quickly.
“This hurts like a bitch.” He hissed through gritted teeth.
“Don't be such a baby, I'm almost done.” Paul took another swig of vodka and poured a little over his wound to sterilize it. The group all sat around the card table and discussed the ammo run, John and Paul giving them all the gritty details of the chase. They passed the night, laughing and drinking. All things considered, it was a good night, and they were safe.
Chapter Twenty
Chosen
Dante opened the cupboard and slammed it shut again. Shit. How could I have eaten the last of the food? After swearing to himself to never drink again, he began to plot out where he could go for more supplies. The grocery stores were likely already looted clean. Regardless, they were too far away, especially on foot. He could try looting nearby
apartments, but that could be dangerous, especially if there were survivors.
Sinking to his knees, he clasped his hands together and bowed his head in prayer. Lord, give me a sign. Help me find the solution to my problem. I know I've never been a churchgoing man, but
He raised his head and smiled. The church. They used to give food to the homeless twice a week and should still have a plentiful supply. Holstering his pistol and slinging his rifle around his shoulder, he opened the window and climbed down the fire escape.
The stench of rotting corpses hit him immediately and he gagged. The dumpster was already overflowing with both dead survivors and infected, stray limbs hanging out from under the lid. He sighed and put his back to the dumpster, pushing it deeper and deeper into the alley. The rusted wheels screeched and he prayed that nobody would hear it.
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