In the Lone and Level Sands

by David Lovato

  Besides half of a body lying in the middle of the floor and the trail of blood that streaked from it and down one of the halls, the lobby was empty. There was no power, but the two could still see clearly from the sunlight shining in through the windows.

  “Mara lives on the 4th floor,” Derrick said. “We’ll have to take the stairs.”

  There were bodies lying in various places, but other than that, the building was empty. Nothing moved, human or otherwise, as Derrick and Zoe made their way to the fourth floor.

  “Coming up on the left,” Derrick said. He was walking so quickly, Zoe could hardly keep up without jogging. He reached the door and began searching his bag.

  “I have a key in here somewhere—”

  Zoe pushed the door, and it swung inward. The wood around the lock was hanging from the door, there was a hole in the frame where it used to be. The color flushed from Derrick’s face. Zoe went in first.

  “Mara?” Derrick said. Zoe could see a crack of light where the heavy curtains blocked the sun. She moved carefully through the darkness and drew them. Light flooded into the room. Derrick let out a sigh.

  The place was empty. The bed was neatly made, the counters and floors clean. There was no sign that anything had happened, other than the broken lock.

  “She isn’t here,” Zoe said.

  “Maybe she left a note somewhere,” Derrick replied. They searched the obvious places, but found nothing. Derrick slammed a cabinet shut, trying to think of what to do.

  “Let’s think, for a minute,” Zoe said. “This place is pretty clean. The whole building, I mean. Except for the bodies. Maybe they all evacuated together?”

  “Outside isn’t safe,” Derrick said. “But maybe… Maybe they all gathered somewhere in here?”

  “Exactly! If there was an emergency, where would the people go?”

  “The roof, maybe. Except there’s no shelter, there. The basement?”

  “It’s worth a shot,” Zoe said. They headed for the basement. “What all is down there?”

  “It’s big. There’s a little platform with the laundry machines, and the rest is a big open area. And a furnace. Seems like the perfect place to gather everyone and wait this thing out.”

  “Yeah.”

  They reached a big door marked “Basement”. Derrick took a deep breath. Zoe took his hand. “Hey,” she said. “Whatever we find down here… We have each other, okay?”

  “Yeah,” Derrick said. He opened the basement door.

  ****

  The basement was dim and glowing red, as the furnace was ablaze. The place smelled terrible.

  The tiny flight of stairs that led from the platform to the lower, main area of the basement was broken. The room was filled with zombies. They were pushing and crowding near the furnace, taking turns trying to get in. The door was a tiny door-within-a-door, the outer one being much larger, but latched shut. A zombie would force its way into the smaller door and burn to death, eventually leaving just enough room for another to fight its way in. The rest of the zombies stood lazily around the room, waiting their turn, losing interest when the view of the fire got blocked by other zombies, regaining it when another small glimpse of that maddening orange flame came into view.

  “They like the fire,” Zoe whispered. She didn’t think Derrick was listening.

  Derrick and Zoe stood on the landing, watching. The zombies were nearly a full person’s height below, and they either didn’t notice the two or didn’t care, preferring the fire.

  “Derrick,” Zoe said.

  “I don’t see her.” Derrick scanned the crowd, looking for Mara.

  “Maybe she isn’t here. Maybe she got out.”

  Another zombie made its way into the fire, sending the flames higher. There was so much smoke, it couldn’t all fit into the exhaust pipes, and some poured into the room, filling it with an orange haze, making it difficult to see anything.

  “There she is,” Derrick said. Zoe followed his eyes to someone standing near the back of the room, facing the wall, a few feet from the furnace. She had long brown hair, and wore a pink blouse.

  “Are you sure?” Zoe asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Derrick… I’m sorry.”

  “Maybe she’s okay. Maybe she’s just pretending to be one of them, waiting for a chance to get out.”

  Zoe looked from Derrick to the girl at the back of the room, then back to Derrick.

  “Derrick, you know there’s virtually no chance that she’s… alive, right?”

  “Maybe I should call out and see if she’s okay,” Derrick said. It was loud in the room, but Derrick knew he could be heard over the roar of the flames and the moans of the zombies, if he tried.

  “Then they’ll know we’re here,” Zoe said.

  “I don’t think they can get up here.”

  “Derrick, even if she was okay, calling out wouldn’t help her. She couldn’t call back, or they’d notice her.”

  “Y-you’re just jealous,” Derrick said.

  “What?”

  “You’re jealous. You always have been. You don’t want Mara to be okay.”

  “Derrick, you’re being ridiculous! I can’t believe you’re even considering this! Don’t be stupid!”

  Derrick looked across the room filled with zombies at the girl in the pink blouse. He and Zoe stood there for what seemed like forever. Zoe couldn’t stand the thought of being alone again. “Derrick,” she said. “Let’s get out of here. Please… Don’t leave me.”

  Derrick looked at her, then across the room, then back at Zoe.

  “I’m sorry, Zoe,” was the last thing Derrick said before he hopped off of the landing and into the room below. It took all of her strength not to scream. She didn’t know what to do; she could follow him, but then she’d be dead. She could provide cover fire, but there were too many zombies. The best she could do for Derrick was to wait on the landing and keep quiet, hoping the zombies below didn’t notice him.

  But they did notice him. He made his way across the room, bumping into zombies in the crowd, being scratched and bitten as he made his way to Mara, and when he got to her and spun her around to see that same vacant, incorrect look in her eyes, Zoe finally cried out.

  “Derrick! You idiot!”

  The gnashing and biting didn’t stop. Zoe fired into the crowd, as futile as it was. Some of the zombies tried to climb onto the landing, unable to make it at first, but quickly piling on top of each other, getting closer and closer to mounting the platform.

  Derrick was overwhelmed. Even Mara was sinking her teeth into him. He pushed his way to the furnace, unlatched the bigger door, and opened it.

  “Derrick! God damn it!” Zoe said. Tears poured from her eyes. She still thought about jumping down there. Death might have been better than being alone.

  “Zoe, get out of here!” Derrick said. The zombies pushed and shoved into the now wide-open furnace, no longer trying to climb the landing, instead jumping into the fire in groups of three and four, the rest pushing and shoving and trying their hardest to get inside. Derrick disappeared into the orange haze, his cries fading away along with his face, the smell of burning flesh and hair filling the room.

  Zoe’s feet finally made the decision her head couldn’t, and she fled the room, the building, and the city.

  ****

  The car rested in the sand. The door was wide open.

  Zoe stood on the beach, staring at the ocean. She looked to her side, and for a moment saw Derrick standing there, watching the waves with her.

  No, she thought. Not anymore.

  And Derrick was gone. It was just her standing there, looking into the water, watching a storm approach, the waves increasing in size.

  Zoe didn’t know what to do. Derrick’s MP3 player was playing in her ears, drowning out the sound of the waves. She listened to “Good Riddance” and “The Girl With Broken Wings” and then “Pitch and Resin”. The battery was running low. She didn’t care.

  Zoe watched
the waves until the battery died and the music stopped. For a moment, she thought of throwing the thing into the ocean; that last piece of evidence that she had, at least for some time, not been alone. But she decided to keep it, to remember all that had happened, all she had learned. Maybe being alone was best. After all, was being with someone worth losing them later on?

  With no music, she listened to the waves, and she thought about Derrick. The sun was going down and the air was getting thicker with the coming storm.

  Alone, Zoe turned back, got into the car, and drove away.

  ****

  She didn’t know where to go. For only a moment, she thought of visiting the house they’d burned down, but wouldn’t that defeat the purpose? She drove along I-80, unsure of where she was going. After a few hours, she decided it didn’t matter. She’d follow the road wherever it would take her.

  Somewhere in Nevada, the car ran out of gas. Zoe recognized the scenery, remembered there was a small town nearby, so she decided to walk.

  It was hot out, but it was still early, and she figured she could reach town before noon. She had food and water and had charged the MP3 player somewhere in eastern California, so she was set.

  Ahead, Zoe could see a small crossroad. Beyond that, the first signs of the town were blurring in and out of sight, and somewhere between the two was a small, dark figure.

  Zoe had just passed the crossroad when she realized it was a person walking along the opposite side of the road, heading toward her. It was a man hardly older than Derrick. Zoe guessed he could see her, too. As the two grew closer, she took her earphones out. Finally, they stopped walking, the faded yellow paint dividing them.

  “Hey,” the man said.

  “Hi,” Zoe replied.

  “I haven’t seen anyone in a while. No one normal, anyway.”

  “Me either.”

  The man looked back the way he had come. “There’s a town, that way.”

  “Yeah,” Zoe said. “I know.”

  “Anything out this way?” He motioned down the road.

  “Another town. A little farther than this one, though.”

  “That’s all right.” He smiled. “I have water.”

  They stood there for a minute. A warm breeze blew by.

  “Where are you headed?” he asked.

  “Wherever this road goes. You?”

  “California, for now. Eventually Oregon.”

  “That’s a long way.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll find a car somewhere.”

  “Yeah.” Zoe adjusted her bag’s strap on her shoulder.

  “Look… if you’re not really headed anywhere, you could come with me. If you want to. Sorry if that seems weird, it’s just… being alone kinda sucks.”

  “Thanks,” Zoe said, “but I think I’ll pass.”

  “All right,” the man said. He started walking again, then stopped and turned back to Zoe. “I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for, out there.”

  “Thanks. You too.”

  Zoe put her earphones back in and walked on. The town ahead faded in the heat rising off of the road. She stopped, took the earphones out, and looked over her shoulder at the crossroad, felt the sun beating down on her and the hard asphalt below, and thought about the young man, still within earshot.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  67

  Leaving Gladstone

  Before they reached the cars, Jordan stopped in the driveway and set his basket of supplies down. The others turned to him. “I think I’ll make a sign, so that anyone who passes by can see there’s a safe place to go,” Jordan said.

  “Great idea,” Ashley said.

  Jordan went to the garage and pored over everything in it, from screws and other odds and ends to random planks of wood and bits of piping. He found a can of black spray paint, but nothing large enough to paint his message on. He headed outside.

  “Couldn’t find anything to use as a sign, so I’ll just use the garage doors,” Jordan said. The others loaded up the vehicles with their supplies.

  Jordan stared at the big white garage doors and plotted the message in his head. Before he could begin, he heard what sounded like a pickup truck hauling ass. Sure enough, one came around the corner, barreled down the street, and turned when it reached the next corner.

  “Guy’s in a hurry,” Aiden said.

  “I’ll say,” Evelyn replied.

  Jordan popped the lid off the paint can, then shook it. The little ball inside clinked around. It was mostly full, which was good, because the sign needed to be legible from the street. Jordan pressed the tip and sprayed vibrant lines, creating a message for passersby:

  Safe zone in Big Springs, Kansas!

  “That should do,” Evelyn said. “Let’s go, now. It looks like a few of them have seen us.” She motioned toward the end of Jordan’s street, where a few zombies had gathered, drawn by the sound of the pickup.

  Everyone piled into the vehicles. Christian rolled down the passenger-side window, then gestured for Jordan to roll his down.

  “We’ll be right behind you, kid. Just lead the way!”

  Jordan waved. “Will do!” He backed out of the driveway, watching the zombies shamble toward them. Christian pulled the Jeep behind Jordan’s car, and then both drove down the street.

  ****

  “So, we follow the highway for an hour before we get to our exit to Big Springs,” Jordan said. “It’ll probably take longer than it says on the map, though.” He peeked into the rearview mirror (as he often had since they left) to see if Christian and Evelyn were still following, and they were.

  I-70 was packed to the gills. Jordan and Christian had to weave in and out of static traffic, and sometimes had to cross over the grassy median into the opposite road.

  Jordan was disturbed by all the empty cars. Some had bodies just resting inside. There were splatters of blood every now and then. Finally, Aiden leaned forward. “Anyone up for a round of The Sign Game?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Jordan said.

  “Already, I see… Samuel’s Apple Orchard,” Ashley said. She pointed at a billboard just before they passed it.

  “‘Samuel’ begins with an S,” Aiden said with a smirk.

  “Hey, as long as one of the words begins with the letter A, it works. Right, Jordan?”

  “That’s how I always played it,” Jordan said. He laughed, and Aiden frowned.

  “Fine,” Aiden said, “B, where can we find a B?” A couple minutes passed. “Blood!” He pointed to a splatter on one of the cars.

  “There’s no sign that says that, Aiden,” Jordan said.

  “Yeah, but it’s a sign of someone’s death or injury.”

  “Doesn’t count,” Ashley said.

  “Smokestack Barbeque,” Alex said. He pointed to a sign that detailed what awaited those heading down the next exit ramp.

  “Captain D’s!” Aiden said.

  “Good one, Alex… and Aiden,” Jordan said. He laughed at how quickly Aiden had shouted his contribution. “Barbeque sure sounds great right about now. It’s not gonna happen though.”

  “Sad, sad day,” Aiden replied. “Chinese is better, anyway. I could really go for some General Tso’s chicken.”

  “Who is General Tso, anyway?” Ashley asked, then laughed.

  “Maybe he was friends with Colonel Sanders,” Jordan said.

  “Don’t forget Cap’n Crunch,” Alex said. The four of them laughed.

  Jordan passed a sign with a black figure of a road worker, with his little hard hat on. Below that, it read:

  Brake for Workers

  Hit/kill a worker: is a $10,000 fine and fifteen years in prison.

  An unpaved lane was cluttered with equipment. There were a few steamrollers, and a concrete grinder sat abandoned. Some of the road had been laid with fresh asphalt, but the rollers hadn’t gotten to all of it, and the mixture had cured in a rough, lumpy state that wasn’t suitable for driving on. Jordan and Christian slowed.

  “Look at that one!” J
ordan said. He couldn’t hold back a laugh, pointing to a zombie that was stuck in the asphalt, which had hardened around its legs and arms. As Jordan and the others drove by, it looked at them longingly, hungrily, from eyes swollen inside a sunburned face. Moans of distress followed the survivors as the zombie struggled to get out of its asphalt prison.

  “Oh my God,” Ashley said. She burst out laughing. “I can’t help but feel a little bad, though.”

  “He’s gotta be starving,” Alex said.

  “Sucks to be him,” Aiden replied.

  “Yeah, sure does.” Jordan avoided a car that sat in the middle of his lane.

  As they went down the road, most of the lane had been gutted, leaving just the raw, base level of concrete. Excavators sat along the left side. Several zombies wandered the area, most of them wearing reflective vests and hard hats.

  Beyond the construction area, the two cars came within eyesight of a plane crash. Christian’s jaw dropped as they drew closer. Thousands of bits of plane and other things littered the ground: papers, suitcases, a charred teddy bear.

  “What in the blue fuck?” Christian said.

  The body of the plane had been bifurcated. Both large chunks rested six or seven lanes apart, and stretched into the woods and hills on either side of the interstate. Broken trees leaned where the nose of the plane pressed against them.

  Bodies were mixed in among the trash and metal. Some were charred, some had been defiled, their remains scattered. Blood painted the pavement.

  “Just look at this shit,” Christian said.

  “I’m really trying not to,” Evelyn replied.

  A large mass of suitcases and pieces of plane clogged the lane. Jordan and Christian managed to drive around much of the debris, but eventually had to stop some fifty feet in front of the two large halves of the aircraft. Christian parked beside Jordan, and rolled his window down. Jordan did the same.