In the Lone and Level Sands

by David Lovato

  “Max!” August said. “Get inside!”

  Max sliced the knife across one zombie’s face. It shrieked and stepped away and then fell down. It writhed on the ground, holding its face.

  Max looked down the hall, but he couldn’t see his parents; just a swarm of zombies. But he could hear them.

  “I missed it!” Andrew said.

  Max saw a flash of light as Andrew lit another flare.

  The other zombie leaped at him, and Max thrust the knife into its throat. It turned and fell to its knees, then to the ground, gurgling blood the whole way. Max retrieved the knife once the zombie had stopped moving.

  Some of the swarm took notice of what was going on, and turned and headed for Max and the apartment.

  “Max, get in here!” August said. She still held half of the door, the other half lay on the ground. Max could see six or seven zombies coming down the hall.

  “I can’t do that, August.”

  “Max, don’t—”

  Max turned and ran down the hall. The zombies all followed him; none seemed to realize the apartment was fully exposed and contained several cornered meals.

  Max reached the corner of the hallway and rounded it. His feet were moving and his thoughts were racing. He wondered if his parents had been bitten, if any of the zombies had gotten into the apartment after he left. He rounded another corner, realized he was likely right above the lobby, and then there was nothing.

  ****

  When Max opened his eyes, all he saw was light. He was sore everywhere, and he could barely hear. He realized he was lying on the ground, mostly buried under a thin layer of dust and sheetrock. He sat up.

  Max could see a gaping, two-story hole that used to be the front of the building. The surrounding walls and floors were on fire. The explosion had torn the floor out from under him, leaving him on the ground in the lobby. He felt lucky to be alive.

  He didn’t see anyone, but he saw countless charred, black bodies.

  “Dad! Mom! August!” He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, but he had to find his family. He walked to the hole and stepped outside, into daylight.

  There were more zombies out here, but no sign of his family. Max looked back into the building. The stairs were intact and littered with bodies. Many of them were charred, most of them were impossible to make out.

  A few dozen zombies noticed Max and started for him. He didn’t know what to do. A rumbling sound registered at the back of his mind.

  Max just stood there. He had no idea why. The zombies were yards away, and Max prepared himself for the end of his life.

  A large Humvee sped in from the left, squashing the nearest zombies in one go. It screeched to a stop amid the smeared bodies. A light-skinned, dark-haired man in military uniform jumped off of the back and headed over to Max, carrying an assault rifle.

  “Holy shit, kid! Are you all right? Are you bitten?”

  Max felt as though he either couldn’t understand the man’s words, or couldn’t understand his own vocabulary enough to answer. Somehow, he uttered a “No.”

  “We have to get you out of here, this place is crawling with zombies.” The soldier grabbed Max by the arm and led him toward the vehicle. That snapped Max out of his confusion.

  “Wait, no! My family, they’re in there! Wait!” Max tried to pull away. The soldier wouldn’t let him go. Max looked at the Humvee, where a bald, dark-skinned man in uniform was sitting, gun in hand, shooting at zombies before they could get close. He stopped firing and exchanged glances with the soldier at Max’s side.

  “Kid, there’s nobody in there,” the first soldier said, “we looked.”

  “My family was in there. We were going to escape. They were just there, I swear!”

  “Kid, we heard the explosion from a few miles away,” the man in the Humvee said. “We got here and searched the place. We didn’t find anything but bodies and fire.”

  “You didn’t look hard enough, you weren’t here long enough!” Max pulled free from the soldier holding him and pointed at himself. “What about me? I was in there, and you didn’t see me, either!”

  “Kid… we searched for a half hour,” the first soldier said. Max had no idea so much time had passed. By now, his family was either gone, or… gone. “If you want I’ll take you through there real quick. Real quick.”

  It took ten minutes to search the parts of the building that were intact. The only bodies they found were burnt to a crisp, and the few recognizable ones were strangers. They gathered back at the Humvee. The soldier hunkered down and looked into Max’s eyes. “I know it isn’t easy… but there’s no one in there.” Max barely heard him, he was a million miles away.

  “Come on, kid,” the soldier in the Humvee said. “It’s not safe here.”

  This time, Max let the soldier guide him. They climbed into the back of the Humvee. The black man tapped on the hood, and a third soldier, in the driver’s seat, looked back at them.

  “Hang on to your assholes, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride!” he said. There was a cigar in his mouth, but he was able to talk just fine. The Humvee sped off.

  Max looked at the wreckage of the apartment, the place his family had stayed for a whole week, waiting, hiding, almost living. He wondered if they had gotten out, how many of them had made it. He wondered what they thought about him, if they thought he might be alive or had assumed him dead, or if they had even gotten the chance to look for him.

  Something else was bothering Max, even more than all of the questions he now had no answers to and likely never would. It was another hard-to-identify feeling, like the boy’s detached head back at the carnival. As the wreckage became smaller, the zombies more sparse; as the apartment complex faded from view and the white lines in the road blurred into one, as the city grew smaller and smaller, Max realized that, for the first time in his entire life, he felt free.

  31

  In Lynnwood Stadium

  The sun brought Martha to life at some early hour of the morning. Her wrinkled eyelids opened slowly. The stadium lights were on, illuminating the field, and her back was stiff from sleeping on the cot.

  She sat up and took a deep breath. It was sweltering inside the dome, and the scent of body odor filled her nostrils. Martha looked around and saw the majority of the hundreds of other survivors were still sleeping. The rest were chattering quietly. Some people even had board games set up. Martha heard faint moans beyond the stadium walls, and couldn’t help but feel that until help arrived, they were all like rats in a cage.

  Francine was awake and reading Nora Roberts again.

  “Oh, you’re awake,” Martha said.

  “Yeah, have been for the past half an hour. Just stopped being tired, I guess.”

  “I suppose I can join the club.”

  “How did you sleep, Grandma?” Francine asked.

  “The piece of shit cot felt like a rock slab. My back’s killing me.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” Francine set the book face-down on her cot.

  “No, it’s fine,” Martha said. “I’m surprised I slept through that incessant moaning at all. Dear Lord, it’s only been one night, and those damned… Whatever you want to call them are driving me nuts.”

  “I heard from one of the policeman that they’re supposed to get a bunch of ear plugs in,” Francine said. She looked tired.

  “That’s good.” Martha looked over the others in her group. Billy and Emily still lay motionless on their cots, which they had pushed together. Phil and Angela were asleep as well, but Jesse was wide awake, playing a game on his PSP. He was wearing earbuds, and the sounds from the game were silent to those around him.

  Alan was asleep. It was just as well; he had stayed up later than the others, scribbling in his notebook.

  “Hey, do you want to play cards?” Francine asked. “I’ve got some in my bag.”

  “Sure,” Martha said. “Anything to keep my mind busy.”

  Francine went through a medium-sized Green Day
messenger bag adorned with various buttons and badges. She took a pack of cards out of the bag, then pulled the cards out of the box. They were well-worn, with a deep crease in the exact middle of each card. Francine shuffled, dealt, and she and Martha began a game of Go Fish.

  ****

  Later in the day, the dome was abuzz with laughter and chatter. Some people sat in their cots reading or listening to music. There were stations where surge protectors were plugged into electric outlets, so people could charge their devices. Some people even had laptops with them.

  The food stations were set up near five o’clock. Everyone was allowed to grab one piece of meat, one spoonful of vegetables, and a roll. There was plenty of water for everyone.

  A police officer got in line behind Martha’s group. Billy recognized him as Francis, the officer who had let them into the stadium.

  “Hey, officer!” Billy said. Francis grunted. “How is everything? Where’s your partner, he eating lunch with you?”

  “He’s dead,” Francis said.

  “Oh, shit, Sorry.”

  Martha watched as a man in front of her tried to sneak a second piece of chicken onto his plate. She frowned, but didn’t say anything. However, the man ahead of him had spotted it as well.

  “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The man set his plate down and glared.

  “What do you care?”

  “I care that you might be making it so someone doesn’t get to eat!”

  “Look how much is here!” the greedy man said.

  “It doesn’t matter! This food isn’t for just you, you fucking fatty!”

  “You know, you’re pissing me off.” The greedy man set his tray down and approached the man who had called him out.

  Francis abandoned his tray and his place in line. “Is there a problem over here?”

  “Yeah, this man is taking extra!” The man pointed to the thief, who quickly picked his tray back up and placed his napkin over his food.

  “Let me see, sir,” Francis said. “Let me see your plate.”

  “Why should I? There’s plenty here for everyone!”

  “Let me see the plate!”

  “Just show him the fucking plate!” someone said.

  “What’s the hold-up? Come on!” said another.

  “I’ll give you one last chance to cooperate, or we’ll have to take a different route,” Francis said.

  “You want to see it?” the thief said. “Well, here! Look and see!” He removed the napkin and smashed the plate into Francis’s face. The two pieces of greasy meat bounced off his cheeks, the green beans dripped down his chin, and the blood boiled in his veins.

  The greedy man had an ear-to-ear grin. The Francis reared his arm back and let go. His tightly clenched fist smashed into the man’s nose, breaking it, and he fell to the ground, unconscious. Everyone in line went silent.

  Two more officers made their way to the scene.

  “You all right?” one of them asked Francis, who was wiping the grease from his face.

  “I guess we’ll have to break out the cages after all. Everyone, listen up! We have mobile jail cells with us. Anyone else who wants to follow this guy’s example will find themselves in there with him!”

  The greedy man was carried off, and the line began moving again.

  “I can’t believe people can be so irrational,” Emily said. “I mean, I know we’re in the middle of a crisis right now, but it’s not like we’re being underfed, here.”

  “He’s just scared,” Alan said. “I’m not condoning his actions, but that’s all he is.”

  “Right,” Phil replied. “Soon, we’ll all be let out of this place, and we can get back to our homes.”

  “I hope so,” Jesse said. “Those cots are killing my spine.”

  “You’re sixteen, and you’re complaining of back problems?” Phil said. He chuckled. “Just wait ’til you’re my age!”

  “I hope this gets taken care of sooner rather than later,” Beverly said.

  “How is this even happening?” Jesse asked.

  “Who knows?” Alan said. “Probably some virus. It has to be a new strain of something. All we can do is hope there are scientists out there finding us some answers.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t scientists that brought this on in the first place?” Angela asked.

  “I don’t. But I do know that it’s best to stay positive.”

  “It’s not easy to stay positive when you just lost someone you love,” Beverly said.

  “No, it’s not,” Alan said. “Don’t think for a second I don’t know that.”

  “…I’m sorry. I know it’s not much of an excuse, but I’ve got a splitting headache. It’s the damn people. Everyone talking as loud as possible. I hate crowds.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. I’m sure they’ve got something for a headache. The medical tent is just that way.”

  Emily followed Alan’s finger and nodded. “Let’s go see if we can get some Advil or something for that.”

  “I can go by myself,” Beverly said.

  Emily shook her head. “We should always stick together, never leave anyone alone. I’ll go with you.”

  Beverly sighed. “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Speaking of headaches,” Francine said, “weren’t we supposed to be getting earplugs today? That’s what I heard, anyway.”

  “I guess not,” Billy said.

  “I’m hoping we get them soon,” Martha said. She stared at the ground with tired eyes.

  “Are you all right, Mother?” Angela asked.

  “No,” Martha said more sharply than she’d intended. “I’m tired, and I’m ready for this to be over. I want to go home. I want to sleep in my own damn bed.”

  “We all do. We just have to wait it out, as painful as it may be.”

  “Being stuck in here is better than being zombie chow,” Jesse said. That made everyone chuckle a little bit, and even a little bit was better than nothing at all.

  ****

  It was nearing ten o’clock and everyone was settling down. Alan was scrawling away in his notebook. Billy and Emily were facing each other in their affixed cots, talking quietly. Beverly had cried herself to sleep. Phil and Angela were sleeping peacefully. Jesse was lying down with his ear buds stuck in his head and Rammstein blasting in his ears. Francine was reading from Roberts once again, now about halfway through the novel.

  Martha reached underneath her cot, toward the suitcase next to the trash bag. Out came the picture of her and Charlie. They both looked so happy in it.

  Things were different, now. Charlie was gone, and Martha wasn’t even given time for proper grieving; she was just thrown into this dangerous new world. She had survived so far, but God knew what was in store for her and her group in the coming days.

  Martha kissed the glass and then tucked the picture back underneath her cot. Finally, she lay down slowly, and closed her eyes.

  ****

  The second morning in the stadium began a little later for Martha. Francine awakened her around nine, when breakfast was being served. There were no outbursts or incidents in the line, so the refugees were able to get their food quickly. Later in the day a helicopter airdropped a package, and with it came more food and 2,500 packets of earplugs. With no space to land and no radio communication, the pilot also included a note: More supplies ETA one week.

  “Finally!” Francine said, cradling her package of earplugs in her hands.

  “I think more are gathering around outside,” Emily said. “It seemed louder last night.”

  “They most likely are,” Alan replied.

  “I wonder how long the barricades will hold,” Jesse said. “If they’re constantly trying to break through, won’t they eventually get in?”

  “With enough force against the barricades,” Martha said, “just about anything could get in.”

  “Mother,” Emily said. “I know this is tough, but please try to stay positive. It’s not healthy to be so negative.”
<
br />   Martha frowned. “I don’t mean to worry you. But it’s also not healthy to ignore the possibilities.”

  “Martha’s right,” Alan said. “Anything is possible. But if something does happen, I’m sure the officers can re-barricade the doors. Lord knows there are enough people in here to help.”

  “They’d better be able to handle it,” Billy said. “They took our guns away. We’d be helpless if those things got in.” He turned his head when he noticed a little boy standing near his cot. The boy’s mother was sitting not too far from them.

  “They won’t get in, will they, Mommy?” the little boy asked.

  “No, of course not!” his mother said. “We’re safe in here, Caleb.” She glared at Billy and the others. “Why are you talking so loudly about this? You’re not the only people here, you know!”

  “We’re sorry if we’ve scared the boy,” Alan said.

  “It’s just talk, lady,” Billy said. “Cover—” Emily grabbed Billy’s arm and pinched.

  “Bill, come on! Quit it!”

  “Ow!” Billy said. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Hey kid, your mom’s right. Those creatures won’t be coming in here. And when we get out, they’ll be gone.”

  Caleb didn’t respond, he just looked at Billy with tears in his eyes. He sat down with his mother, who sighed and turned her attention back to him.

  Phil looked over at his wife. “Are you doing all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Angela said. Phil kissed her on the lips.

  “Could you get a room?” Jesse said. “Seriously.” He rolled his eyes, then turned around on his cot, facing the opposite direction. Everyone laughed, except for Martha and Alan. They were deep in thought.

  ****

  The third day went similarly to the one that preceded it. Everyone in the stadium was trying to make themselves busy. People traded games and tried to do things differently, and though they were bored, everyone was at peace with one another, for the most part. Nothing was perfect; there were a few disputes, but none required police intervention.