by Max Lockwood
“Wake me up when you’re ready to sleep.” Carl yawned, reclining his seat. Matthew scooted to the very back of the vehicle, sitting upright so he couldn’t get too comfortable.
“I will,” he said softly. In minutes, he could hear the change in breathing from the two guys up front. He relaxed a little, too troubled to fall asleep anyway.
His mind was stuck on the two peculiarities of the day. Of course, he had been close to death on many occasions in the past. Given the nature of military work, he knew that the risk was always there. Still, mortality never seemed as concrete as it truly was. Death happened to other people, not him.
Then, once he was out on the streets running from zombies, he was just inches away from being attacked every time he fought them. Every time he plunged his knife into a skull, he was susceptible to catching whatever illness resided in their bodies. Whenever he protected a member of his party, he was liable to get ripped apart.
When he felt the breath of the zombie as it hovered over him, he believed that he was in his final moments. He could see past the rows of decaying teeth to red, swollen tissue was ready to swallow him alive.
But at the same time, he wasn’t as close to death as it appeared. The zombie wanted nothing to do with him once it got a good whiff of him. It almost appeared confused and put off by his presence. In Matthew’s mind, he equated it to ordering filet mignon and receiving a bowl of dog food.
It wasn’t that the zombies lost their hunger. They chased after the car, even though the humans operating it were safely encased in the metal shell. They even chased after Matthew until he was no longer what they desired. Matthew reasoned that it wasn’t an issue with the zombies but an issue with him. Something made him less appealing than the other people he traveled with.
As far as he recalled, the zombies used to attack him with ferocity up until that point. But he was rarely fighting alone. He wondered what would happen if he found himself completely alone with the zombies. Would he see the same behavioral traits?
Matthew even tossed around the idea of leaving the Jeep for a little experiment, but that would be abandoning his post. Plus, he wouldn’t be able to explain why he wanted to leave the Jeep in the middle of the night. Besides that, if his suspicion was wrong and the situation at the hospital was a complete fluke, he’d be in big trouble.
But even if the zombies acted differently around Matthew, he had no explanation for it. He was a perfectly healthy human. He’d received a little scratch that gave him fits for a while, but he was just as healthy as ever. He certainly didn’t contract the virus, nor did he think he was immune to it.
From what he understood about the spread of diseases, immunity happened when the body was introduced to some foreign substance that taught the antibodies how to fight. So, if the disease was spread to the immune person, their body would know what was coming and defend the healthy cells. When people got sick, it was because their immune system was unprepared and couldn’t fight harder than the disease.
As far as he knew, the reason the zombie disease was so deadly was because no living human had an immune system that could prepare for such an illness. Even the strongest people turned within hours after it was introduced to their system. No drugs could stop it and no vaccines could prevent it.
Matthew reasoned that the scratch and subsequent illness could have worked like a vaccine, but then again, immunity wouldn’t cause the zombies to ignore him. He was healthy—his flesh was just as nourishing as anyone else’s.
He would have to wait until Ellie and Genevieve began their study to ask how the disease worked. He didn’t want anyone to know about his oddity, but if it looked like the girls were making some progress, maybe he’d mention his predicament to Ellie. She seemed understanding. But he didn’t want the others to catch wind of his suspicions. Matthew didn’t want anyone to fear him for no reason, nor did he want to be cast out of the group that he’d worked so hard to keep together.
Of course, it could have been a fluke, and Matthew didn’t need to worry. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the zombie that let him go was different. When it stared into Matthew’s eyes, it looked like there was something there. Perhaps, the zombie had recently turned and was in the process of losing the last of its humanity. When it looked at Matthew, it was realizing that it was no longer like him. It was entirely possible that the zombie was the strange one, not Matthew.
Having talked himself out of some crazy ideas, Matthew felt better. Instead of worrying about the strange zombie encounter, he refocused his mind on survival. He thought about all the ways they could fortify the building when they returned and how they could find new survivors to keep the little militia going.
Matthew found it very soothing to imagine a colony where survivors could live with some semblance of normal life. His eyes grew heavy as he imagined all the different types of people they could bring in. Worried that he was going to fall asleep, he reluctantly tapped Carl on the shoulder about four hours into his watch.
Carl looked at his wristwatch and yawned. “Any trouble?”
“Nothing.”
“Is there anything out there?”
“Not that I saw,” Matthew responded.
“Good,” Carl said, pulling his seat upright. “Well, have a nice nap.”
“Will do,” Matthew replied before curling up in the back seat. He rested his head against one of the backpacks, finding a soft spot where the goods had been padded with paper towels and gauze.
Soon, they would be able to return to the office, hopefully with more than just lab equipment. He couldn’t wait to build the community he could only dream about. Closing his eyes, he tried to quiet his mind as quickly as possible so he could kill as much time sleeping as possible. He just wanted to open his eyes and find himself in the home he had helped make for all the displaced people in the city. It was the closest thing he had to a home and a family. He clung to it, knowing that he might not ever get to the point where he could have the real deal of either of those things.
11
The sun had barely breached the horizon when Matthew was roused with a shove. He blinked his heavy eyelids open to find Carl leaning over him. He jerked backward, startled by his companion staring him in the face.
“What time is it?” Matthew asked, clearing his throat. “Did I sleep for too long? You should have just punched me.”
“No,” Carl said in a hushed voice. “There are people outside.”
Matthew bolted upright. “What kind of people?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” he replied, loading the guns. “Just listen. I’ve been trying to figure out who they are.”
Matthew looked over at Sergio scowling in the front seat. He was already holding the other gun, his finger not far from the trigger. Matthew wondered if he had talked to Carl about strategies before Carl woke Matthew up. He thought the rest would make Sergio a little less concerned.
Carl then wiped the handle of the handgun and placed it in the glove compartment. He turned to Sergio and shook his head.
“Put that down, will you? At the very least, take your finger off the trigger and turn the safety back on. We use our bullets for absolute threats.”
“I’m going to protect myself, my boys, and my turf,” Sergio grumbled.
Matthew waved at him to be quiet. He pressed his ear against the window and listened for voices. He didn’t know why he had a preconceived notion about who was out there, but he was surprised to hear two female voices in the parking lot.
He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they had an unmistakable confidence in their voices. It sounded like listening in on a casual conversation between two shoppers than a discussion between two vulnerable survivors in the middle of a mall parking lot.
At one point, he thought he heard the word “kill” but he couldn’t be sure. It was a common enough word in anyone’s lexicon these days. Why should he feel uneasy at the notion that strangers were doing some killing of
their own? Matthew had apparently killed over twenty zombies in a half hour and didn’t remember a thing. He certainly couldn’t judge anyone for that.
“I’m serious, dude,” Carl said. “Put the damn gun down.”
“I will when we know that we won’t get our heads blown off,” Sergio hissed. “How do we get out of here without being seen?”
Carl shrugged. “Peel out? I think it’s worth gathering more information. What if they need help?”
“What if they don’t?”
Carl bit his lip. “I guess that’s always a possibility. I’d feel like a real dick if they were starving or something and we just sped out of here. I’d feel even worse if you shot them for trying to talk to us.”
Matthew felt uncomfortable sitting in the middle of an argument. While he agreed completely with Carl, he knew that Sergio was only looking out for their best interests. Once again, they were in a situation where they could not begin to predict the outcome. One of them would be right in their intuition and the other would be wrong. Unfortunately, being wrong could prove fatal. Playing it safe could preserve their lives. On the other hand, taking a risk could provide better outcomes than they could ever expect.
“I only hear two girls,” Matthew said. “We could reasonably take them down if they turned out to be dangerous. If we can kill a whole mess of zombies, how hard can it be to talk to a few girls?”
Carl laughed. “I think talking to girls may be scarier than zombies. At least I know that the zombies want us.”
Sergio cracked a smile. He seemed to be loosening up, hopefully to the point where he would go along with the plan.
“So we’re going to talk to them?” Matthew clarified. “We can even bring our knives if we want. Let’s just see who they are and what they want. We don’t have to bring them back with us if we don’t want to.”
“I think we should,” Carl said. “I’d ask what you think, Sergio, but you’re already outnumbered. Let’s make it quick. Then we can continue on.”
“Fine,” Sergio said, grabbing his knife and tucking it into his pocket. He wanted to push his point more, but after the hospital gate debacle, the thought it was better to defer the decision making to someone else. He still didn’t want to talk to the girls, but perhaps even more, he didn’t want to be wrong about something again.
The women must have heard the men talking inside the Jeep, because when they exited the vehicle, two girls were standing beside the adjacent car, guns pointed at their visitors.
Carl immediately raised his palms to his ears and lowered his gaze. Matthew mimicked the gesture, followed by a reluctant Sergio.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Carl said calmly. “We were out here resting and we heard your voices.”
“We wanted to see if you needed help,” Matthew added.
The short brunette laughed a high-pitched cackle. She ran a hand through her short hair, not unlike Matthew’s.
“I think we’re doing just fine,” she crooned.
“Yeah,” her red-haired friend chimed in. “Maybe we should ask if you need help. We’re the ones with the weapons.”
She lifted the gun up higher, strong arms bulging from her snug long-sleeved shirt.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Sergio said, visibly annoyed with the women.
“And how can we be so sure?” the short woman asked, raising a thin, dark eyebrow.
“Because we don’t waste bullets on the living.” Matthew sighed. “We’re only interested in killing the dead, not the living.”
The ginger smiled. She lowered her gun and took a step closer to the men. She was just slightly shorter than Matthew. Her face was dotted with freckles and her fiery hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. She appeared to be around Matthew’s age, but her light eyelashes made her look more youthful.
“That’s clever. I like that,” she said. “So, what are the three of you doing out and about?”
“Trying to stay alive,” Sergio said flatly, jumping in to speak before the other two could divulge too much information.
“Aren’t we all?” she replied. “Where did you get that Jeep? Did you steal it off some poor military men trying to rescue others?”
“We’re not the original owners, but we’re also not the type to steal from those in need,” Carl said carefully. “We only take what isn’t already being used by others. We’re not bad people.”
“That’s good to hear,” she replied. “But I would be surprised to hear anyone out themselves as bad people.”
She smirked and looked at the younger woman, who shrugged her shoulders in response.
“And what about you?” Sergio asked defensively. “What are your credentials?”
The ginger girl smiled again. “We’re not trying to hurt anyone, either. We’ve been known to kill a zombie or two when it’s absolutely necessary, but we’ve been able to avoid that for the most part. I’m Crystal.”
She extended her hand to Sergio, then made her way down the line, shaking the men’s hands. Her slender hand was smooth yet callused beneath her fingers.
“And I’m Adele,” the smaller woman chimed in, repeating the same introductory process. The soldiers each said their names, not making eye contact as they spoke.
“Cool,” Crystal said. “Three new friends. Well, this world is growing smaller by the day. I guess we’ll probably bump into you guys at some point along the way.”
“Do you have a camp or something?” Matthew asked, frowning. Again, his expectations were not matching up with reality. He sincerely thought that the women would prove to be thankful that they showed up and happy to join their ranks back at the office. Instead, they seemed completely self-sufficient.
“Yeah, we’ve got a little hideout not too far from here,” Adele said. “It’s a small community, but it helps us feel like we’re not in the middle of a humongous disaster. It’s the closest thing we have to a home.”
Matthew could identify with this. He was suddenly curious as to what their community was like. His mind started racing, coming up with all sorts of ideas for merging their group with his if they were a good fit. He imagined that they were located in a house or a building like theirs, but probably smaller. Matthew wondered how much work it would take to convince their crew to move downtown and join them in the high-rise. But if he had the choice to move his friends from a little shack to multiple floors to spread out on, he would choose the larger of the buildings. If they were reasonable, they’d come along, too.
“Actually, if you want to give us a ride there, you’re welcome to join us,” Crystal said.
“I don’t know,” Matthew said, frowning. “We kind of have our own group already. We just came out here to get supplies.”
“You don’t have to stay,” she said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “But if you wanted a fresh change of clothes and somewhere to wash up, we could easily make that happen. Besides, our car broke down. If you give us a ride back, we’d be extremely grateful. I really don’t want to walk back. There are zombies out there, you know?”
Matthew smiled. He looked down at his clothes and realized that they must have given off a pretty bad first impression. Matthew had nearly gotten used to the smell, but to the girls, they must have smelled rather rancid.
Matthew looked to Carl and Sergio for their input. Carl nodded his head and Sergio gave no expression.
“Well, if you just need a ride, I think we can do that,” Carl said.
“I wouldn’t mind a new shirt,” Matthew added, looking at his bloodstained and torn clothing.
“And a bath.” Carl grinned. “If you can manage it, of course.”
“Not a problem,” Adele said.
“You leave your guns with one of us,” Sergio grunted. “I’ll give you a ride, but I would feel better knowing that we weren’t going to get carjacked for our generosity.”
“I’d be happy to unload it,” Crystal said. “If we’re with you, I suppose we don’t have a need for weapons. We don’t
need them within our little community. We have guards who keep the perimeter pretty safe and sound.”
“That’s smart,” Matthew said. “We kind of have a system like that. We all trade off keeping watch while the others rest. I wouldn’t mind talking to some of your friends to get some good ideas for building security. Are you happy with where you’re at?”
“Very,” Crystal said. “Given the nature of this disaster, we couldn’t really ask for much more. We basically have everything we need to survive.”
“That’s a good attitude to have,” Carl said. “Why don’t you get in and make yourselves comfortable?”
“Thanks,” the women said in unison, hopping into the back of the Jeep. Though they appeared to be in their twenties, they giggled like teenagers catching a ride with an older guy.
“Do you know your way around the area?” Adele asked Sergio as he started the car.
“Not at all.”
“That’s fine. I can give you turn by turn directions. Was it hard to get adjusted to driving this thing?”
“Not really. I kind of have training to do this very thing,” he said, his voice lacking emotion.
“You’re in the military?” Crystal asked.
“We all are . . . were,” Carl said, correcting himself.
“Wow, that’s pretty cool,” she said. “So you guys are pretty chill with killing zombies?”
“We’re probably the best there is.” Carl grinned, easily charmed by the good-looking women.
“We’re lucky we ran into you guys,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “We probably could have broken into another car and figured out how to start it, but this is much easier.”
“How did you get out here if you have a place to stay?” Matthew asked.
“We were given the opportunity to go out and gather some supplies,” Adele said, pointing to her bag. “I know it’s not the most glamorous job, but we were both really curious as to how bad things have gotten out in the rest of the world. I guess you could say that we’re isolated in our little community.”
