by Evans, Mike
Ellie got to her feet, wiping her mouth on her arm. “Well, then you and I will go back to town.”
Greg said, “I’m not staying here again. The first time about made me sick worrying about the three of you.”
Tina dramatically fanned herself and said, “Greg Thompson… worried about something besides sex? Oh my god.”
Greg lightly punched her in the arm. “Well, you know you are like, one of three girls I know who aren’t one of those Turned. I got to take care of the living, you know.”
Tina looked a little ill. “Well, that sucks, doesn't it?”
Ellie asked, “What do you mean? What sucks?”
Tina replied, “Well, I wasn’t real big on the idea of kids. Christ, do you know how many of those little bad boys we’re going to have to knock out to even begin to get civilization back to normal again? Good god.”
They all laughed at this and Shaun said, “Well, we have a more important goal, I think, that we need to worry about, unless you want to start the baby making today.”
Tina blushed. “Well, I don’t know that I’ve picked out who the lucky Adam to my Eve will be, Mr. Fox. What do you think is going to be more important?”
“We need to go down to town, like, now and get the cure. If there isn’t a cure then we need to either survive or—”
Greg cut him off saying, “What do you mean ‘if there isn’t a cure’?”
Shaun shrugged. “You’ve seen some of those things. You can look through their front to their back. There’s no way that anyone would be able to save those things. So regardless of the outcome, there is still going to be a great deal of them that will need to be dealt with at some point.”
Tina nodded slowly, thinking about them running rampant in the street. “You're right; there will be thousands or hundreds of thousands, I bet, who will need to be sorted through.”
Greg spoke up. “Remember, Shaun, it isn’t just here; it’s everywhere. Like, it hit Europe and we don’t know how bad it got from there.”
Shaun rubbed his hands through his hair, thinking of what they needed to do; they didn’t really having a choice to do nothing. Shaun couldn’t stop feeling responsible for the fact that his dad made the drug. Hell, Karen and Frank would have never even met if he hadn’t helped Ellie; then there would have been no need for his dad to produce it. Shaun was whispering to himself, “It’s my fault. This whole goddamn thing is my fault.”
Greg said, “What’s your fault, Shaun?”
Shaun looked up at Greg and thought about how his dad had been taken out. Then there was Tina’s brother Lucas, Ellie’s mother, and countless others dead as a result of his dad’s drug. “If I hadn’t helped Ellie that day, none of this would be happening. Dad would have never worked on the cure for Karen. It would have been unfortunate, but she’d just be one of the thousands who doesn’t survive cancer. The world would have been a better place.”
Ellie pushed herself off the ground, rubbing her stomach. “Shaun, don’t be stupid; they could have met a million places. I mean, like, they worked together for how long? You don’t think that eventually they would have had a reason to meet? It was inevitable. We can’t say for sure what was going to happen. Maybe this whole thing is just fate.”
Greg said, “That’s a pretty effed up fate to be ending the world.”
Tina slapped him on the shoulder. “Not really helping things, Gregory!” Greg opened his mouth and then shut it, because he knew very well that she was right.
“It’s okay, Greg. I’d have to say I agree with you. How can it be someone’s fate to end everything? Was God looking for a way to cleanse the world, and he saw my dad as the perfect vessel to do so?”
No one said anything… they just headed down to the cabin. Ellie bumped into Shaun affectionately and broke the silence. “It’s going to be okay, Shaun. It has to be; we don’t have any other options, right?”
Shaun said, “Even if we get lucky enough to find dad’s research, it’s going to take someone somewhere else a hell of a long time, probably, to be able to figure out a way to cure these people. But at least if we can stay safe, it’d be better than the alternative.”
Ellie didn’t mean to say it out loud, but she whispered, “What would the alternative be then?”
Shaun, who was already thinking about it, replied, “That there isn’t a cure and we have no choice but to kill them all?”
Ellie laughed. “We’re teenagers, Shaun, we can’t save the world.”
Shaun shrugged, never stopping his walk to the cabin. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to live in seclusion, away from the rest of the free world for my entire life. Besides, if it’s as widespread as Greg said, then think about this, what priority is Iowa going to be? Do you really think they will start taking all of these Turned out one by one, starting in the middle of the country? Or do you think they’ll try and protect the areas that are still safe and then work their way in, state by state?”
Ellie thought about what he was saying… they all thought about it. Greg said, “We might need more bullets.”
Shaun nodded his head and pushed into the cabin.
*****
Mike was lying on a cot, holding his sides, and Patrick and Kristy were sitting at the table discussing nothing in particular. Shaun walked right to the fireplace, grabbed the old box, turned around, and walked right back out. He grabbed Greg by the shoulder. “Hey, are you coming with me down the hill man?”
Greg nodded. “We’re not getting split up again; it just seems stupid. If we need to make a stand somewhere, then we need to be together. You with just Tina and Ellie was a bad idea and we’re not going to continue using shitty ideas. There are only so many times that we can do that and get away with it, ya know.”
Shaun nodded. “I’m glad you’re going with me man. I say we take something that’s quiet with us, like my bow. If we aren’t in an onslaught of them, I can shoot them one at a time. If we make any noise with those guns, it’s a freaking calling card. You should have seen them swarm in when the van exploded in town. I mean, every time we made more noise, those things were on it like nobody’s business. I don’t know if it’s because they somehow remember the noises or they are just after anything in general that makes a sound.”
Greg tapped the axe that was hanging on the back of Shaun’s shoulders. “So, was that why you picked that bad boy up?”
Shaun shook his head. “No, I had a zombie throw me into a wall and I had lost my gun. This was the first thing that I could grab while I was sprinting around the hardware store, trying to save the girls.”
Greg said, “Thrown into the air… well, yes, that sounds fun. I’ll back you and your dad’s bows, if that’s cool. That and some assault rifles and handguns ought to be enough if all shit hits the fan, right?”
Shaun nodded and said, “Make sure you grab some of the MREs and waters and stuff, in case we are stuck in town for a while. The last thing we want to do is say we died of starvation.”
Greg headed in, grabbing some of the larger backpacks that hadn’t been filled yet and started packing massive amounts of ammo for the two types of guns they’d be taking with them. He packed the waters, as instructed, along with the MREs and thought he’d be really happy if he didn't have to eat these things out of fear of starving.
Mike pushed up on a shoulder, watching Greg work like a possessed man. “What’s wrong, Greg? You look crazed.”
Greg looked up. “We’re going back to town. We think we might be able to get some information for the government that might be helpful.”
Mike sat up, wincing and holding his ribs. “What do you mean information for the government? What the hell do you know that they don’t?”
Greg didn’t say anything; he just kept packing. He wasn’t about to tell him that the dad of the kid who just beat the crap out of him might have been the one responsible for all of this—for him being here, for the loss of his family. Ellie and Tina both started making packs also, and Kristy was scare
d to go down but even more scared to stay if it meant being alone with Patrick and Mike. She did not feel that sense of security from them like when she was with Greg. She grabbed her go bag, threw it up on her shoulders, and sat at the table waiting patiently to leave.
Mike walked to Greg’s side, feeling like this was outside all over again where he was being left out. He pushed Greg, who was kneeling already, knocking him off balance and to the ground. Greg’s patience was better than Shaun’s was. He pushed back up to rest on a knee and put the remaining items in one bag. He then started on Shaun’s. Mike was breathing heavily, trying to stay calm, and failing miserably. Too much teenage hormone testosterone pumping through his blood.
He pushed Greg, who was ready for it a second time, with two fingers. Greg grabbed the two fingers tightly, bent them upwards, and twisted Mike’s wrist and entire body with one fluid motion, using his wrist as a starting point. “I don’t like being pushed, Mike. It isn’t my job to make sure you know shit that might not have anything to do with you. We are going to town. Anyone who wants to go, can. But in your shape, I’d say you’ve already dealt with all your body can handle for one day.”
Mike yelped as Greg bent his hand at more of an impossible angle. “I’m sorry; it’s just like I said outside, I really want to help. I’m not useless.”
Greg said, “Well, no one said that you were useless. It's just not my business. Come with us. Really. Make a bag and come; I don’t care. But you need to be sure you can take care of yourself because, other than Shaun and the girls, I got no responsibility to anyone.”
He looked up at Kristy after saying that and seeing the look of hurt that she wasn’t included in the list of people he cared about, he motioned to her saying, “Well, and Kristy. But that just because she’s kind of hot. The two of you do nothing for my imagination.”
He let go of Mike’s hand, which was turning different colors and Mike held it like it was a newborn baby. He looked to Patrick and said, “So, do you think you are up for a road trip, man?”
Patrick, who was feeling pretty good after getting the dosage he needed of his drugs, nodded his head. “What are we supposed to do if we see any of those things?”
Greg looked in the corner and along the wall, at the now well-organized weapons armory that they had and saw exactly what he was looking for. He walked over, knowing the gun well and grabbed two shotguns off of the wall. They were hunting shotguns and were as easy as any gun to aim and load. As long as they could handle the kick that they gave off. Greg grabbed a box of shells and loaded in five.
He said, “Look at these, guys. They are called shotguns. We don’t point them at people. We don’t point them at ourselves. They are set up to shoot something called a slug; this slug will go through you, your friend, and probably your car door. You only get five shots out of these though. He pumped it once, making everyone jump. The sound of a pumping shotgun is well known and always grabs someone’s attention.
Mike eagerly walked forward, arms extended. “That’s awesome; can I hold it?”
Greg handed it over still empty and pointed to the bead on the end of the barrel. “You see? This is called a sight. All ya need to do is put this where you want to send the slug and squeeze the trigger. Once you fire it, you slide the pump back, and a shell will eject from beneath it. Then slide the pump back up until it stops. You do this five times and you load the son of a bitch like your life depends on it…” Greg laughed, thinking about it. “Well, it does depend on it. So you slide these into the slot below, pump it once, then put four more in and you don’t have to pump. If the safety is off, you are ready to kill.”
Patrick said, “Can we kill those things?”
Greg opened his mouth, thinking about it. “Well, you know, what you can do is take out those things and keep them from causing anyone else who isn’t Turned to be harmed or Turned into one of them.”
Patrick was nodding, watching the explanation that Greg was giving and staring at the rifle that was hanging on his shoulder. He raised a hand in the air, waiting patiently. Greg was still talking when he saw this and stopped, nodding his head toward Patrick to go ahead and talk, unsure why he was raising his hand in the first place.
Patrick said, “Uh, why don’t we use the rifles like you have, instead? I thought these things didn’t shoot very far, and those you have hold lots of bullets, right? These don’t hold more than five you said.”
Greg nodded nonchalantly and continued. “That’s true, but you actually need some time and training to learn how to use a rifle like this, or you are really going to be not much more than bait for us while we pick them off. Do you like the idea of being bait, Patrick?”
“No… not really, Greg. Can we get some extra shells, and maybe take a shot or two before we head down the hill so we can make sure we know what we’re doing with these?”
Greg nodded and each of the boys took a shotgun. They found one of the bags that Kristy and Greg had put together and filled it with additional shotgun slug shells. Tina said, “You can’t drive for crap, so I’m going too. What kind of gun can I shoot?”
Greg went to answer when Ellie and Kristy both coughed and raised a hand, smiling at him as well. He looked at additional shotguns, thinking that they would tear the hell out of their shoulders and probably drop them the first time they had to fire them. He looked around the house trying to think of something that would work, saying something under his breath about how it wasn’t necessarily his job to be trying to match everyone to a damn gun.
He felt the same way about the rifles and didn’t know what he should do, but he scanned the pistols and saw that the nine millimeters were set up with a laser pistol grip. He held it up, pointed it at the wall, and went outside. Shaun was sitting on the ground, reading his note. Shaun looked over his shoulder at Greg, who said, “This is a pain in the ass, just so you know. Cup your ears for a second.” Greg threw an empty water bottle container out in front of him and took three shots. He made it dance across the ground then pulled out the second and third pistol and did the same. He was confident that if the girls were smooth and slow, they’d be able to take out whatever they aimed at with these weapons. Just as he was entering back into the cabin he heard Shaun yell, “Hey, Greg, great job. I totally think you massacred that water bottle, man.”
Greg, who was not above petty teen mockery, held up his middle finger and waved it in the air as he went back into the cabin. The three girls were all staring at Greg as he walked into the cabin waving his middle finger. He saw them and smiled, thinking about what it must look like. The three of them were staring him down, and as he opened his mouth, Kristy said, “Well, screw you too, Greg. Christ, man, it’s not like we want you to take care of us, so teach us, ass, and maybe we—”
“You can stop, Kristy. God, I think I’d actually rather be in school… maybe I’m feeling ill; I never thought that I would say something like that. The finger, I promise you, was meant for Shaun Fox and only Shaun Fox. ‘Why?’ you ask. I can only say it’s a guy thing, but he truly deserved it.”
Greg walked over to the wooden table, set the three identical pistols down, and pointed to them. “Each of you please pick one of these up so that I can show you quickly how to use them. These are easier than the shotgun.” Each of the girls picked one up and almost instantaneously did a Charlie’s Angels pose with the gun. Greg rolled his eyes and said, “If you’ll notice the small button on the grip, push this down please. You will see a red laser; much like the shotgun, you shall hit what you put that laser on. It is very important that you aim these and do not have a shaky arm. If you do, you will not hit what you are aiming at—I can assure you of that. It is very important that you squeeze the trigger very easily, not hard… and, yes, there is a difference.”
“Okay, senior drill instructor,” Tina said.
“Yeah, well, if you had an instructor like the one I had… you’d have to do it right the first time, every time you held a gun. I mean, it never really sank in with the damn
handgun; they are a pain in the ass to shoot, but I never got the gift of a sweet-ass laser sight.”
Kristy, who didn’t really know Greg said, “Did you go to a gun academy or something?”
Greg laughed, pointing the gun over the fireplace. “Yeah, I went to an academy all right. It was my dad’s school of Do it right, and don’t mess up or you can plan on doing pushups when you get home, getting a speech on the way home, and getting your choice of mowing, car detailing, or cleaning every gun one by one.”
Kristy said, “Sounds intense.”
Greg nodded, looking at the gun while choking back a tear, knowing he’d give anything to have his dad back. As he showed each of them how to load a gun and how to get a fresh magazine loaded, he said, “Well, it might have been tough, but he’s the reason that I’m able to show you all this. If not, we’d have to rely on Shaun for everything, and I don’t think he needs that kind of stress right now.” He handed the gun back to Kristy and had each of them get extra boxes of ammo and magazines.
*****
Shaun winced thinking about it. He didn’t want to unfold the paper, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. The only answers he was going to get were the ones written on the note. If it wasn’t his dad who was responsible, he would have a sense of relief; however, he would have an even bigger sense of fear. That would mean he could do nothing to help. He felt in his heart that if his dad had anything to do with it, there would be no way that he couldn't go forward and try to help. The paper was folded into eighths; Shaun unfolded it slowly, afraid of what he might learn.
Shaun,
I write this letter and it is the most difficult thing I will ever do. I know that we have not had the best father–son experience. I always had wished that there would be more time, that there would be more days to do things together. The problem with always having more time is that when it runs out, there is nothing you can do to get it back.
