by David Rogers
A juicy looking burger on a perfect rounded bun, layered with melted cheese, leafy green lettuce, red onions, grainy mustard and just a hint of thick ketchup was pictured; every bit of it looking scrumptious and juicy and beyond delicious. In the corner was a fast food restaurant’s logo; but the word plastered across the bottom of the billboard was what made her start laughing. Just below it were listed exit numbers ahead where the restaurant could be found, including several in Ocala.
“Hungry?” the fading and peeling advertisement read in big letters.
Candice, still wiping vomit from herself, glanced at Jessica in bewilderment. Jessica shook her head and kept driving, despite her semi-hysterical laughter.
Chapter Eleven – On the road again
“Okay.” Candice said.
Jessica turned around and gave her daughter the ‘mom once over’, evaluating the change of clothing. One of the advantages of the apocalypse was there wasn’t anyone around to watch them change out of the smelly clothes they’d been wearing. Whatever social norms might have said stripping and redressing in the middle of the highway wasn’t something that happened, they’d died and scattered along with everything else the zombies had ruined.
The clothes Candice had on were more of what Jessica had painstakingly altered to fit her daughter. They were a little lumpy where Jessica had gathered excess material in with not-terribly-great stitches, but they did fit. And, most importantly at the moment, they were clean. Jessica’s standards for ‘clean clothing’ had relaxed considerably in the absence of readily available power and water, but spending longer than was necessary in clothes that covered with stomach acids and half-chewed food was beyond even those looser limits.
“Good. Put the dirty ones in here.” she said, holding out the garbage bag.
“But they’re yucky.”
“Yes, I know Candy Bear. But I’m not going to wash them until we’re somewhere safe. So in the bag.” Jessica said patiently.
Candice put the vomit stained clothes into the garbage bag, watching as Jessica started tying it closed. “I’m sorry I upchucked.”
“It’s okay sweetie.”
“It’s just . . . ” Candice began, then shuddered visibly with a look of unhappy distaste.
“I know.” Jessica said hurriedly. “Think happy thoughts. It’s over, okay? It’s over and we’re safe.”
Candice nodded and tugged at one of the shoulders of her shirt to get it settled better on her lithe frame. After a few moments she looked around the bridge. “Why are we stopping here?”
“Because here is a good spot.” Jessica said as she finished knotting the bag and turned with it to face the truck.
“But why?”
Shrugging as she moved other things out of the way so she could stuff the bag with the soiled garments beneath them, Jessica glanced around idly. “Because according to the map, we’re something like twenty miles from Ocala. Another five or so and we’ll be at the Florida Turnpike, where the road splits, and that’ll make it harder for Austin to find us. And because this is what he would call a place with limited threat vectors.”
The pickup truck was parked on State Route something or another; right in the middle of the overpass with I-75 running beneath them. Thanks to Florida’s perpetually flat terrain, and the way the interstate extended straight out in either direction, they could see miles along the road. And because the spot was on a bridge, the places something or someone could approach them from was reduced to only two.
“So we’re going to wait for him some more?”
“Yes.” Jessica said as she finished tucking away the dirty laundry and opened the driver’s side door. The old pickup didn’t have much room behind the seat, but she’d transferred some things into a couple of extra bags, and placed them inside the cab. Several days’ worth of food and water, some bare essential toiletries, bowls and utensils, and a single change of clothing for them each. Just in case.
“He’s okay.”
Jessica started to answer, then stopped herself when she realized Candice hadn’t asked anything. “I’m sure he is.” Jessica said instead as she double checked the stuff behind the seat.
“How many zombies do you think he’s killed so far?”
“Probably a lot.” Jessica answered almost absently as she glanced in either direction along the bridge to make sure nothing was sneaking up on them. Nope, clear road in both directions. She picked up her purse – a ‘mom sized bag’ she’d carried since Joey had been born – and opened it as well.
The attic incident had reinforced the need to be ready to run at a moment’s notice. In addition to the stuff behind the seat, which was designed to be grabbed and carried quickly; she’d also added more stuff to her purse. Now, along with the ammunition boxes that had sort of lived there since Knoxville, she had some water and snack cracker packets. It wouldn’t replace a proper meal, but it would give her a much larger ‘oh shit’ margin the next time something screwed up.
Not if. When.
Satisfied with her rearranging, Jessica closed the door and moved back to the bed of the truck. In her sorting and repacking she’d found a coil of cord in among the tool portion of what was being hauled around. She didn’t remember adding it, so it must have been Austin’s idea. As usual, he’d been ahead of her and ready for anything.
The SUV had been a great vehicle; and one of the reasons was it had been enclosed. Whatever was inside it was safe. On the pickup, the truck bed was open to anyone or anything that wandered by. Rain was the least of her worries. If Catherine had noticed and chosen, last night she could have simply cleaned the truck out; carrying everything away into the off-road underbrush where Jessica would very likely never have found it.
She couldn’t ensure something like that couldn’t happen, but she could make it harder. To that end, she tied one end of the cord to the front corner of the truck’s bed. With some work she could use it to create a lattice across the top of the bed. It wouldn’t prevent anyone from getting in, but it might give her time to notice or hear something going on and decide how to react.
“How did you know that woman and boy were sick?”
“What?” Jessica asked, turning and looking behind her in surprise. Candice gazed back at her expectantly, with no sign of humor or sarcasm visible on her face. Instead, she seemed almost proud of Jessica. “I didn’t know.”
Candice frowned a little. “But you weren’t going to help them anymore. You said they couldn’t come with us.”
“That’s right, I did.” Jessica said, resuming her work with the cord. With one end secured, she started running the length of it around the top of the bed, from corner to corner to corner, so she’d have something to work with as a start.
“Why?”
“What’s Rule Four?”
“Don’t assume people aren’t bad guys.” Candice recited dutifully.
“That’s right.”
“But it was a mom and kid. He was younger than me even.”
“Yes.”
“And we weren’t going to help them?”
“No.”
“But why? We’ve been helped by people.”
Jessica paused at the passenger side front corner, checked the bridge in both directions again, then refocused her eyes on her daughter. “We went to Doctor Morris’ house when we didn’t have anywhere else to go, right?”
“Right.”
“And we went down to Knoxville with him and his brother and their wives and those people who worked for Doctor Morris’ brother, right?” Jessica continued. Candice nodded. Jessica nodded back. “And what happened next?”
“We had to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because it was dangerous there.”
Jessica nodded again. “It was dangerous. It had been safe, and then it wasn’t anymore. And remember what happened when I decided it wasn’t safe?”
Candice was silent for several seconds; long enough that Jessica resumed her work with the cord. She got it pulled thr
ough the last corner box, then tossed the length across to the other side of the truck.
“You said we were leaving.” the girl said finally. “Because staying and fighting over the Eagle building was stupid.”
“Remember how Mr. Morris and Doctor Morris acted when I said that?” Jessica asked as she walked around to the driver’s side.
“They didn’t like it.”
“They were kind of mean about it weren’t they?”
“Some.” Candice said slowly, clearly struggling to either remember or process the concepts. Jessica reminded herself her daughter was only ten. But the question had come up, and was going to again. The time for wrapping Candice in wishes and dreams had been left a while back. If not all the way back in Atlanta, surely in Knoxville.
“More Mr. Morris than his brother.” Candice said as Jessica looped the cord around the anchor line she’d laid across the edge of the bed.
“Come over here.” Jessica said, turning and gesturing. Candice moved closer to the truck, and Jessica indicated what she’d just done with the cord. “See how I did that with the cord?”
“Yes.”
“Do that and throw the end back to me when I throw it to you, okay?”
“Okay.”
Jessica checked the bridge again, then walked around to the passenger side. “Toss me the cord.”
Candice flung the end over, and Jessica started looping and pulling it through. She was creating a zigzag of line that would run back and forth across the bed. By pulling it tight and knotting it occasionally, she hoped it would be enough to provide surety for the supplies.
The stuff Austin had volunteer to risk his life for so she could recover.
“Doctor Morris was my boss.” Jessica said, bringing the conversation back to Candice’s question; to her lesson. “I worked for him for years, since you weren’t even in kindergarten. And when we went to him for help, just after things got bad, he helped us. But then when things got worse, when it started to be obvious this wasn’t going to be something that was going to go away quickly, he wasn’t as eager to help.”
“But why?”
“Because people get . . .” Jessica started, then changed her mind. She tossed the cord across to Candice and watched, thinking, as the girl started pulling it around the anchor line. “Helping people is a risk.” Jessica said finally.
“So we can’t help people?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But that’s what it means isn’t it?”
“I didn’t say that either.”
“Austin helped us.” Candice said, a little stubbornly. “He’s still helping us.”
Jessica stepped on her impulse toward impatience. This was her idea. She could’ve nipped this whole thread right off with a platitude and a few soothing words, but no; she’d decided to educate the girl on how things are in the new world of zombies and terror. Now she had to carry it through. Somehow.
“Austin is the exception.”
“To what?”
“To the rule.” Jessica said as she caught the cord when Candice tossed it back over.
“To Rule Four?”
“Yes, to Rule Four.”
“But how do you know?”
Shrugging, Jessica pulled on the cord. That was an extremely fair question; how did she know?
“I just do.” she said after a few moments, realizing it was the truth. At least, the truth as she saw it.
“This is the same as ‘because’ isn’t it?” Candice asked, her face still showing some confusion.
Jessica was at a loss, and gave up after a few moments. “Because?” she asked, remembering to check the bridge. Still clear.
“Because you say so.” Candice said with a touch of the kind of exasperation only a child can summon toward a parent. “Like you always did when San—” she stopped abruptly.
“Like I did with Sandy?” Jessica asked gently.
“Yeah.”
“I miss her too.” Jessica said sadly.
Candice nodded unhappily, and Jessica smiled. “Well, I sort of don’t think this is the same as ‘because’, but I guess that’s as good an explanation as any.”
“Because, honestly, it’s a better one – an easier one to explain to a ten-year-old – than getting into all the murky, messy, tiny, fleeting, lasting, important, irrelevant, and obvious reasons why I trust him.” she thought as she pulled on the cord to tighten the first set of lattice loops. The anchor line bowed in several inches on each side, and she kept pressure as she knotted the cord to hold it.
“He could’ve acted like those assholes that deserted Morris in Atlanta, then showed up in Knoxville to claim the compound and its stuff – showed up shooting – but he didn’t. He could’ve ignored me and Candice during the ride down – it’s not like he didn’t have a lot to do guiding and watching out for the entire convoy all the way from Atlanta – but he didn’t.
“He could’ve brushed me off once we got to Knoxville; he had to secure the whole site, survey the surrounding area for threats and problems, negotiate with the townspeople, coordinate the security and scavenging efforts . . . but he didn’t. And he could’ve stayed. When I left with Candice, he could’ve stayed with Morris.
“Worse, he could’ve thrown in with that asshole who came to take it all away from Morris.” Her thoughts darkened, and she felt her brow furrowing a little as she tried to remember the name. Ebert, Eckert, Ebbitt; whatever. “He’s a useful guy, talented and trained. All he had to say was yes and he would’ve been safe. No more babysitting, no more hand holding, no more carrying people who can’t get by without help. Part of a team of a bunch of guys just like him.”
Jessica threw the cord back over and watched as Candice started another lattice loop. “No, not just like him. Not even close.”
“Mom?”
“Huh?” Jessica shook herself, realized she’d let her thoughts fall inward, and looked to the sides. Bridge was still clear. She smiled and shrugged at Candice, who had the cord ready to throw over. “Sorry Candy Bear. It’s probably not very fair, or very clear, of me; but yeah, ‘because’ is the reason I trust Austin.”
“Well I trust him too. I’m just trying to figure out how he’s different from other people we don’t.”
“Rule Four means people might be bad guys.” Jessica said as she took the cord and started the next loop. “It doesn’t mean they are; but it means they could be. It’s more dangerous to think someone’s good when they’re bad, than if you think they’re bad and they’re really good.”
“I get that part.” Candice said. “But—”
“—figuring it out is my job.” Jessica broke in. “As long as I’m still around, that’s one of my jobs.”
“But I have to learn.”
“You do.” Jessica nodded, though – as usual – that raised a bit of a shiver inside her. Of the thought of Candice being alone out here in the – she cut it off, also as usual. She’d just do her best, everything she possibly could, until the chances were gone and she was dead. Until then, she had to do her best.
“The only way I can think of for you to learn is to keep watching and asking questions.”
“Your answers aren’t always good ones.” Candice observed, her tone suddenly surprisingly resembling of Sandra’s.
Jessica turned the darkness at the thought of her dead middle child into a chuckle that didn’t sound too forced. “I know, and I’m sorry. It’s because some of these things are really hard to figure out. Teaching them is harder.”
“Well, if you can only be good at part of it,” Candice decided as she took the cord Jessica threw back across, “I guess you should be good at the figuring and not the teaching.”
“Why’s that?”
“We’ll be safer.”
* * * * *
Once again, sun on her face awoke Jessica. Birds were chirping and the wind was gusting just enough to ripple her hair as she sat up and looked around. The outdoors was not reassuring and welcoming anymore; it only mad
e her feel exposed, vulnerable, threatened. Even when she was off the ground. Her first check was of the highway in either direction; but nothing moved that she could see. Throwing off the handmade quilt that had been appropriated back in Georgia, she rose cautiously to her feet and took another, longer look around.
No zombies had turned up in the night; or, at least, none were wandering about nearby. That was something, she supposed. The metal beneath Jessica’s feet depressed, creaking and moving slightly as she turned in a circle. It was enough to rouse Candice.
“What’s wrong?” the girl asked, sitting up abruptly and staring around wildly.
“Nothing.” Jessica said soothingly.
“It’s morning.” Candice said, blinking against the bright sunshine already hard at working lighting and heating the landscape.
“Yes it is.” Jessica said gravely.
“Did Austin find us?”
“I don’t know. I just woke up myself.”
“Let’s check the sign.”
“Hold on.” Jessica said quickly as Candice started to scramble out from beneath the quilt. “Let’s at least pack our stuff up. Don’t you want to eat something first?”
“We can eat in the truck can’t we?”
“I guess.” Jessica allowed after thinking a moment. “But it’ll be cold stuff; snacks and jerky.”
“That’s fine. Let’s go look at the sign.” Candice said eagerly, starting to roll up the quilt.
“What’s the rush?”
“I bet he found it and is waiting for us.”
“Let’s take things a step at a time.” Jessica said, trying to cushion against disappointment. The quilts they’d been sleeping under were both mostly blue and green – and more or less matched the colors of the trailer – but Jessica wouldn’t put it past Austin to have noticed them atop it if he’d come by. She was willing to bet a lot of other folks might miss two people asleep on an overturned truck trailer . . . but not him. He was just too together. Too good.
“Don’t you hope he’s there?”
“Of course I do. But he might not be yet, and if he isn’t—”
