Apocalypse Asunder

by David Rogers

  A boy was clinging to the woman’s side, and not just from fear; he looked exhausted and drained, so much so that he didn’t even seem to have the energy to go much further. He couldn’t be much more than six or seven, tops; though it could’ve been the dirty face and tattered clothes, and the slightly sunken cheeks that spoiled her estimate.

  Jessica glanced around, looking past the woman and boy, but saw nothing except interstate shoulder, scattered trees, and rain. “Okay, come in.” she said, forcing her tone to something approximating neutrality despite the grudging unhappiness she felt.

  “Thank you.” the woman said, her face flashing instantly to a tearful gratitude that was deep enough to embarrass Jessica. “Come on Todd.”

  Jessica stepped back, and blinked as the woman thrust the boy up the step and into the door first. Jessica always preceded Candice everywhere, but the woman seemed to think nothing of ushering her child in first. The woman did follow quickly though, and stood looking around just inside the doorway as the boy made right for the bench seats at the RV’s little dinette table. As he moved he limped somewhat; dragging his left leg some like it wasn’t working at one hundred percent.

  He sat down immediately and reached for one of the cans, but his face turned from hope to dismay with the sort of gut-wrenching suddenness only a child can summon. Whatever was wrong with his leg, there was nothing hampering his hands as he immediately dug them into the can. When they came out empty, he started licking bean juice from them and whining plaintively.

  “They’re empty.”

  “Todd, hush.” the woman scolded, but without real energy. “I’m sorry, he’s just hungry.”

  Jessica gestured toward the table. “If you’ll sit down, I have a few extra cans I can heat up.”

  The woman’s face lit with desperate eagerness. “Would you? Really, that would be, I mean, really, thank you.”

  “Sit down.” Jessica repeated, backing away a few steps. “It’s no problem.” She didn’t want to make it an order, but she also wanted the woman somewhat pinned in behind the dinette table before screwing around with the camp stove again. As far as she could tell, the woman didn’t have any weapons. Or, at least, Jessica didn’t see any shapes or weights that looked like a gun.

  “Thank you so much.” the woman said as she moved toward the table. “Slide over some sweetie.” The boy made way with some winces and a groan, but subsided when the woman put her arm around his shoulders.

  Jessica stripped the labels off two more cans of beans and lit the little stove again. “Do you know what’s happened in Ocala?”

  “Do I?” the woman exclaimed. “Wow, how’d you miss that?”

  “We just did.” Jessica shrugged as she set the cans over the burner and adjusted the flame.

  “We?”

  Now it was Jessica’s turn to wince, though hers was out of frustration. “My daughter and I.” she explained. “She’s shy of strangers. But about Ocala?” Candice was still out of sight and keeping quiet, and Jessica was happy to leave things like that for the moment. What the woman did was her business; but Jessica’s was keeping Candice safe.

  “Oh.” the woman said, then she made an unhappy noise. “Well, a lot of a lot of things went into that debacle.” she said after a moment. “It goes back to outbreak weekend. You remember how it was.”

  Jessica nodded silently as she wrapped two of the hand towels around her left hand so she could manipulate the heating cans safely. That left her right free for the gun, which she hadn’t holstered yet. Somehow, the woman hadn’t noticed any of it though.

  “Well, by Saturday it seemed like half the state was in chaos. Miami, Jacksonville, Tampa, Orlando, Tallahassee, Lakeland . . . they were all swarming with zombies. Sunday the Lieutenant Governor announced refugee camps were being organized. The one for North Central Florida was Ocala, since Gainesville was already gone.

  “News got real spotty the next day – when power started failing, but the word was out by then – and people were showing up. People who didn’t have anywhere else to go. The National Guard was there when me and Todd got there, setting up tents and cots and organizing food and water and medical care.”

  She sighed and scrubbed at her wet face with the back of an equally wet hand. “Everything was okay until Tuesday . . . then, the outbreaks started there too. I don’t know if people who were sick showed up, or if it was just more of the spontaneous turnings, or what; but once it started, the city just went over to the wrong side.”

  “Wrong side?” Jessica asked, lifting a spoon with her towel wrapped hand and stirring the beans in their cans.

  “The dead side. Zombies were just everywhere. We tried to get out, but . . . ” she trailed off, crying quietly.

  Jessica blinked at that, then decided that – like it or not – she needed to ask. “You did get out. I mean, you’re both here.”

  “No.” the woman shook her head. “Not all of us. My boyfriend, two of our friends, . . . my other son.”

  Jessica wasn’t sure how to react to that. She was pretty sure that, odds-on, there were very few – if any – people left breathing anywhere in the country, probably anywhere in the world, who hadn’t lost someone. Likely a lot of someones. “I’m sorry.” she offered after a moment.

  The woman nodded, wiping at her eyes again as she struggled to pull herself under control. After a few moments, she shrugged and glanced around. “I had a car, then another one after that; but the gas only lasts so long, and getting more is tough. Todd and I made it over to Silver Springs, hid out in some cabins there in the state park for a while; but the zombies followed us I guess. We had to start running again.”

  Jessica lowered the burner further and gave the beans another stir. They were almost ready.

  “We tried Belleview; that got us nearly three weeks before the food ran out and the zombies got thick. Summerfield, a few more days there, though I was able to find a working car that still had the keys in it and gas in the tank; loaded it up with some food and headed south again. Oxford, found some more food, and some more zombies found us.

  “Crossed 75 and tried camping out away from anywhere zombies might come looking for us, but there wasn’t any food. We ran through what we had, and had to come out looking for more.”

  The woman was crying again. Jessica killed the burner and stuck a spoon into each can before she pinched them up with her left hand and carried both over to the table. She deposited them on the edge of the table, out of reach of the boy, who was already reaching for one.

  “Careful honey, hot.” Jessica warned gently, unraveling the towels from her hand. She started to wrap them around the cans, one at a time, as the woman continued crying. Jessica considered for a few moments while she worked, then sighed. “And you’ve been having problems ever since?”

  The woman nodded mutely as Jessica finished shielding one of the cans with a towel and slid it over in front of the boy. He grabbed for it and stirred the spoon about frantically as steam billowed up out of the can. Jessica watched as he scooped some beans out, blew on them for a moment, then crammed them into his mouth. He scarcely seemed to even chew them before he was swallowing and headed for his second mouthful.

  “Slow down.” Jessica said. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

  The woman wailed as Jessica reached across the table, trying to block the boy’s hand from lifting the spoon. He twisted aside, wrapped can in one hand, the spoon in the other, to stay out of her reach as he kept shoveling beans away. Jessica pondered for a moment, then decided she didn’t want to do anything that might light off the woman’s latent mother instincts. The woman didn’t seem to be much of a mom to Jessica, but she figured any mother would object to someone else messing with her kids.

  “Well, those beans should help with the hunger for the moment.” Jessica said instead, starting to wrap up the second can for the woman. She was still crying, but Jessica figured she’d slide the can over in front of her where the aroma of hot food would probably break through h
er tears. “And I can let you have some snack food I’ve got. It won’t be much, just some potato chips and stuff, but it’s calories.”

  The woman nodded, but her crying didn’t really abate. Jessica finished with the can and moved it across the table, then stepped back away. When she went to clasp her hands in front of her, she realized she still had the Taurus out, and decided it was okay to holster it. When it was put away, she changed her mind about what to do with her hands and settled for hooking her thumbs into the belt of her jeans casually.

  “You haven’t been able to find food?” Jessica asked.

  “No.” the woman got out around her sobs.

  “Houses usually have some.” Jessica offered. “Stores, I don’t know about stores really, but it seems to me they’re usually in places where there were a lot of people. Places there are probably a lot of zombies now. But houses, especially ones out away from everything, usually have a decent sized pantry.”

  “I-i-i-i't’s been hard.”

  “Well, yeah, if you don’t have a way to fight small numbers off you’re going to have problems.” Jessica allowed. “Maybe you could get a baseball bat or something, or at least a makeshift club, until you can find something better.”

  “Like a gun?”

  “Well, yeah.” Jessica nodded. “Though there’s no way I’d be sitting here with you if you had a weapon . . . I don’t know you.” she added mentally.

  “I don’t l-l-like guns.”

  “I don’t like them either.”

  “And you’ve got two?” the woman asked, looking up and finally seeming to get her crying under control.

  Jessica wasn’t sure how to answer that, but she finally just sort of shrugged. “Not liking it doesn’t have much to do with it these days.” she said. “I mean, the things that’ve been happening are going to keep happening unless the zombies are stopped. And I’d rather shoot them than get up close.”

  “I’ve . . . I’ve been hoping for the government to fix things.”

  “Have they?”

  The woman glared, sort of, at Jessica. Not a full on glare; but there was some indignation breaking through her semi-hysterical sorrow. “They will.”

  “How?”

  “Damnit, do you like things like this?”

  Jessica blinked and backed a step at the raised voice, shaking her head. But her tone was not cowed when she responded. “Of course not. I’ve seen just about my entire family die. But sitting around hoping and wishing isn’t getting on with what needs doing.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Surviving.” Jessica said, pointedly gesturing at the can of beans on the table in front of the woman. “I’m doing the best I can to keep my daughter and I safe and sound. If that means breaking what used to be the rules, then I break them. If it means I do things I don’t like doing, then they get done. If it’s that or . . . ” She trailed off as she remembered Candice was, very likely, listening to every word.

  The woman was tearing up again, which – while not altogether unsurprising – wasn’t exactly what Jessica had been going for. Jessica watched as she picked up the towel wrapped can of beans and toyed with the spoon for a few moments. Her head turned and she watched her son finally beginning to slow down his madcap haste to consume the food.

  “Thank you.” she whispered.

  “You’re welcome.” Jessica answered. Outside, the rain was starting to taper off. Austin had been right about Florida storms. In Georgia, this kind of rain would’ve been most of the day in forming, and then would’ve stuck around for quite a while; but as quickly as it had formed, and as heavily as it had hit, this storm seemed to be abating the same way.

  “If you’ve been on the go for a while, why don’t you finish eating, then take the bedroom. Get some rest.” Jessica said as the woman finally ate a spoonful of beans.

  “We couldn’t take your—” she began, but Jessica cut her off.

  “It’s not my RV; it’s just a place we’re squatting in.” she said reassuringly. “And there’s no way I’m leaving you out here between me and the truck.” she carefully didn’t say. In the rain, with half the contents stuffed casually into garbage bags and the rest of it haphazardly strewn all across the pickup’s bed, Jessica thought it might have escaped notice what was in the back. But she didn’t want to bet on it.

  Not after Austin had . . .

  “He’s alive.” she told herself fiercely, breaking that thought off cold. “He’ll find us. Stick to the plan.”

  “We are tired.” the woman said. “We’ve been on the move for days.”

  “Well, eat, then I guess get some sleep unless you’ve got somewhere better to be. It’s almost dusk anyway.”

  The woman burst out laughing, a sardonic outburst full of more than a little frustration. “No, not really.”

  “Candice, come out here.” Jessica paused a moment, then turned at footsteps. Without having to be prompted, Candice put herself on Jessica’s left side; the side her mother wouldn’t use to draw and aim guns. Jessica placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “This is my daughter, Candice. I’m Jessica.”

  “Oh, uh, sorry.” the woman said, clearly realizing she hadn’t done much more than show up and cry. “I’m Catherine, and this is my son Todd.”

  “Hi.” Candice said shyly, pressing herself against Jessica’s leg and waist. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  Catherine laughed again, the same harsh laugh devoid of any actual humor, as she gestured vaguely around at the RV. “Yeah, well, I guess this is probably as good as it gets now.”

  * * * * *

  Jessica woke with a start at the clatter of metal on metal. Her hand, already on the butt of the Taurus, flinched violently as she straightened in the bench seat. Before she fully registered what she was doing, the gun was halfway out of the holster as she blinked rapidly to clear her eyes and head of slumber.

  The previous night, Catherine and Todd had finished the beans they’d been given; and then retired to the bedroom. Actually, first, they’d cycled through the bathroom, and then gone to bed. Jessica had heard the toilet flush, and water running, and had investigated before going to sleep herself.

  She didn’t know anything, really, about RVs; but apparently the vehicle had its own water. It had a tank somewhere apparently; because the sink worked, and the toilet refilled after being flushed. For the first time in nearly two months she and Candice were both able to use the bathroom without having to wrinkle their noses up against the smell, and the sight of what was in the bowl.

  After their ‘guests’ had retired, Jessica had played cards with Candice for a while. But it had been a long couple of days, with not very good sleep breaking up the days. Candice had barely lasted much past sundown, and had sacked out on the dinette bench seat.

  Jessica hadn’t been far behind her daughter; she’d been exhausted as well. She’d carefully ventured outside to the truck to retrieve a few supplies she thought might be useful in the morning, locked the RV’s door behind herself, and then done what she could to ensure the bedroom’s occupants couldn’t sneak up on her.

  Catherine was in the doorway of the RV’s bedroom, looking alarmed. After the two newcomers had ‘retired’, and before she had given into her fatigue, Jessica had built a little stack of cookware in front of the bedroom door. The RV’s cabinets didn’t have much to offer – what she already had in the back of the truck was much better – but it had clearly done its job. When the bedroom door had opened, the miniature stack of pots and pans had tipped over onto the oven sheets. Noisily.

  That noise had woken Jessica, and she found herself staring at the other woman for several seconds while her brain processed what was happening and tried to decide what was going on. Jessica finally caught up with herself and smiled slightly; pulling her hand with the gun back below the table so it wasn’t in plain sight anymore. “Good morning.”

  Sun was streaming through the RV’s ‘windows’, or at least, where the windows were now that the glass was gone. S
he heard some birds chirping their morning songs, and not that far away either. Even though she’d slept sitting up in the dinette bench, with her head slumped against the cabinet enclosure behind her, she felt much better than she had yesterday morning.

  “What the hell is all this?” Catherine asked. She didn’t move, but she gestured to the scattered cookware at her feet.

  “What’s wrong?” Candice cried as she sat up from where she’d been curled up on the bench next to Jessica. Or, rather, tried to sit up; she caught her shoulder on the bottom edge of the table with a loud thump, followed by a cry of pain.

  “Security.” Jessica said unapologetically as she clutched the forty-five out of sight beneath the table.

  “From me?”

  “I don’t know you.”

  “I’m . . . we’re . . . Jesus!” the woman sputtered.

  Jessica glanced at Candice. “Everything’s fine Candy Bear. Are you okay?”

  “Ow.” Candice complained, rubbing at her shoulder.

  “Were you going to shoot me?” Catherine demanded.

  “If I needed to.” Jessica answered, struggling to keep from getting irritated. Or, rather, more irritated than she already was. With effort, she tried to modulate her tone to something somewhat less sharp. “I don’t know you.” she repeated.

  “We’re just two people.” Catherine exclaimed. “A mother and child, same as you.”

  “Then you should understand my caution.” Jessica said, the response coming out short despite her intentions.

  “What—”

  “We’ve been through a lot of bad things.” Candice said, suddenly injecting herself into the building argument between the two adults.

  Catherine’s eyes moved to the ten-year-old in surprise. Jessica watched Candice return the gaze without any trace of shyness or uncertainty, and stood up.

  “We’ve been through a lot. We all have, you two and us alike.” she said, still trying to find it in herself to soothe the situation over. “I can offer you and Todd some breakfast, then Candice and I will get going.”

  Catherine looked back to her, and Jessica could see a mix of emotions and questions swirling behind the woman’s face. Jessica waited several seconds, then shrugged. Moving over to the kitchenette, she started rummaging in the bag for food. When she started peeling labels off cans, she saw – out of the corner of her eye as she worked – Catherine go into the RV’s bathroom. The woman kicked cookware out of her way a little grumpily, but otherwise raised no further fuss for the moment. When the door closed, Jessica put the pistol back in its holster.