by David Lovato
Layne put his hand on Vince’s shoulder. “Everyone gets a new life, now. We’ll get you out.”
Layne stood up and looked at the others.
“Does anyone have any food?” Garrett asked.
“I have some granola bars,” Keely said.
“Give him two, for now,” Layne said. He turned back to Vince. “You haven’t eaten in a while, so you need to start out small, okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” Vince said. He reached forward as Keely handed him the granola bars, taking them like a starved animal in a cage. He didn’t eat them, he devoured them. “Thank you so much,” he said with a full mouth. “God bless you, all of you!”
“We have to go now, Vince. We’ll come back, we promise.”
“What are you guys doing in here, anyway?”
“We’re looking for someone. Norman Peters. Ever heard of him?”
“Yeah,” Vince said. “Heard a lot, actually. Mostly legends, bedtime stories, bullshit. He’s at the end of the block. Never comes out. Probably dead.”
“Thank you,” Layne said. They started to leave, and Vince looked worried, almost betrayed, but he calmed himself and sat in his cell.
They made their way to the end of the row, where a concrete wall waited. The walkways and cells stopped there. Layne pushed away the idea that he was hearing that song again, but it was getting harder to do.
Layne looked into the last cell and saw a normal-looking man in a prison uniform. His hands were bound to chains attached to the walls, which held them separate. He looked emaciated, barely alive. His bald head hung low.
“Hello?” Layne said. The man didn’t move.
“Are you Norman Peters?” Keely asked. He still didn’t move.
“I think he’s dead,” Garrett said.
“We’re all dead,” a calm voice said. Layne stared into the cell. The man raised his head, opened his eyes. They were a clear blue. His mouth was in the shape of a smile, though whether he was actually smiling or it was just the natural curve of his mouth, Layne couldn’t tell. Whatever the case, he had a peaceful demeanor, the kind of face one might recognize as “the good guy” in countless movies. The only off-putting thing about him was a small scar along the right side of his head.
“You are him, aren’t you?” Layne said. “I have some questions.”
The man laughed. “You think you can just come here and find whatever it is you’re looking for?”
“If you have answers, let us know,” Garrett said. The man let his head fall backward, and he stared at the ceiling.
“Did you do all of this?” Katie asked.
“Yes,” the man said, then paused. “No.”
“Don’t fuck with us, man,” Garrett said.
The man laughed again. “What are you going to do? Shoot me?”
“Maybe,” Layne said. He gestured for Keely’s pistol, and she gave it to him. Layne extended his arm between the bars and aimed right between the man’s eyes. The man stared at Layne, his eyes burned into him, made him uncomfortable. The two stayed that way for a moment. Layne cocked the gun.
“Fine. You’re right. I’m Norman Peters, and this—” He moved his arms what little he could, as if to gesture with them wide open. “—is my work.”
“Your work?”
“I’ve been preparing for years. I hope you like it.”
“Yeah,” Garrett said. “You’re a regular Ozymandias.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of Gilgamesh,” Norman said. “But tell me, how far away stretch my lone and level sands?”
“Pretty God damn far,” Garrett said, and then took a few steps away, breaking all sight with Norman. A few cells down, Vince was clutching the bars, pressing his head against them, listening intently.
“What did you do?” Katie asked.
“What do you think I did?”
“Your questions are starting to piss me off,” Keely said.
Norman laughed. “I assure you, young miss, I’m quaking.”
“Look,” Layne said, “we can bring you food, we can get you what you need, if you cooperate with us.
The smile faded from Norman’s face. “Don’t patronize me by assuming you have anything to offer. All I need is to die here in this cell.”
“Well, that’s one thing I can make happen,” Garrett said. He stepped back in front of the cell and lifted his shotgun between the bars. Layne pushed the barrel down softly.
“Please… Just tell us what we want to know,” Layne said.
“What is it you want to know?”
“What are those things?” Katie asked. She was beginning to feel silly, like Norman was just playing with them, and he was actually as confused as they were.
“They’re people,” Norman replied.
“What’s wrong with them?” Garrett asked.
“They appear to have a great taste for human flesh.”
“They’re zombies,” Layne said. Norman laughed.
“Yes, you could call them that. A neat little trick I learned long ago, and one that worked much better than I could have imagined.”
“Why?”
“‘Why’ what?”
“Why did you do this?”
“I didn’t do anything that wouldn’t have happened on its own. I just sped it along.”
The survivors exchanged glances.
“You don’t believe me,” Norman said. “That doesn’t surprise me. Few are willing to accept the ugly truth of things.”
“Why should we believe you?” Layne asked.
“You’re the one who came to me.”
“And I’m about to leave.” Layne turned and started down the walkway.
“Tell me, how many of your friends died to get you over that wall?”
Layne turned and ran back to Norman’s cell. “How do you know about that? You can’t know about that!”
“Layne, what’s he talking about?” Garrett asked.
“You came because I called you,” Norman said. “You’re here to do what I want you to, and you won’t leave until you do.”
“What are you talking about?” Layne said.
“Look at the world around you. What do you see? You see plants and animals, creatures of all kinds fighting each other, killing each other to stay alive.”
“You’re talking about the food chain,” Garrett said.
“Ah, but it goes deeper than that! Now look at humans. We seem to have gotten the upper hand, haven’t we? No matter what comes our way, no matter what threat we face, we somehow manage to come back stronger. Much like a virus.”
“Your rhetoric is getting old fast,” Layne said.
“You don’t think it’s in our nature to kill to survive? What do you think would happen to your little world if it was allowed to continue? Once your resources were gone, once there was no food, only billions upon billions of other people? No space to even move?”
Layne opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“Yes, you’re beginning to see. Humanity has tried to outrun evolution, but this planet can only hold so many. Eventually, evolution would catch up. Humans would turn against each other to eradicate the surplus. But how much damage would we do before then? I found a way to start the process early. Don’t you see what humanity could be? The people you call ‘zombies’, they don’t know war. They don’t fight each other, they don’t know malice, they don’t know greed. They survive, and that is all.”
“I don’t believe a word this guy says,” Garrett said.
“Why do people who get bitten turn into one of them?” Layne asked. Norman shrugged, barely able to, but enough to make Layne angry.
“My guess is that they feel a need to propagate their species. They don’t reproduce through natural means, that method is far too inefficient, it takes too long. Seems they’ve found a better way.”
“Until there’s no one left to convert.”
“I can’t be blamed for what evolution yields,” Norman said.
“So you’re saying
all of this, everything that’s happened, it’s a part of basic human evolution? That it would happen on its own, down the line somewhere?”
“Exactly.”
“You’re fucking crazy,” Layne said.
“Then call it a curse. When someone is bitten, the malicious intent spreads to them, consumes them, converts them.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. These things hurt us all the time, but only the bites spread it.”
Norman smiled and shook his head. “Why do you keep asking me questions if you’re only going to refuse the answers?”
“Because your answers are bullshit.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just upset because you aren’t hearing what you want to hear.”
“And you would know what I want to hear?” Layne said.
“Of course. You want to hear the answer. You want me to tell you how to reverse it.”
Layne said nothing. His eyes did the talking. He and Norman stared at each other, a million words passed between their gaze, a million thoughts, a war.
“Very well,” Norman said. “I have a proposition for you.”
“Let’s hear it,” Layne replied.
“I will tell you everything you want to know. No tricks, no lies. I’ll tell you how to reverse it.”
“Sounds like a good deal,” Garrett said.
“After,” Norman said, a pang of annoyance in his voice, “I emit the second wave.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
“‘The second wave’?” Keely said.
“I’ve been preparing for weeks. I’m nearly ready to send out another wave.”
“You mean another wave of zombies?”
“Another wave of the hex,” Norman said. “That’s what I call it, for lack of a better term.”
For the first time, Layne’s weapon lowered. “Bullshit! You’re lying!”
“Believe what you want. You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Or I could just kill you now,” Layne said.
“And then you’ll never have your precious answers,” Norman replied.
Layne scowled, shook his head. “What if I don’t believe you can do any of that?”
“The mind is a peculiar thing. And, with the right work, a very dangerous weapon. The most dangerous on earth, in the Universe. There’s only one mind, you know, all of humanity shares it. This was simply a matter of tapping into the collective conscious, of opening the pathways. You’ve felt some effects of it yourselves. Surely, if I can open them, I’d be able to close them as well. You can know for sure, all you have to do is wait.”
Finally, defeated, Layne said, “How long do we have?”
“I’ll be ready within the hour,” Norman said.
Layne turned to his friends. They looked to him for the solution, for his leadership. He knew he could hear it then, the song from his dream. It was about to reach its crescendo.
Layne looked at his bracelet. He thought of his friends, and all they had lost getting to this point. He thought of the distances they had traveled, the things they had survived, how short Jessi and Kara’s life together had been. He remembered what Kyle had done in the parking lot of the church.
Tears welled in his eyes. Everything came down to this. No answers, no solution, just an impassible wall with no door.
Layne raised the gun between the bars and fired. The bullet hit Norman between the eyes and splattered his brain across the back of the cell.
71
In Ben and Charlotte’s House
Charlotte’s cries rang in Ben’s ears as they kneeled together. He felt light-headed from all the blood he’d lost. He hugged his wife tightly.
The moaning masses still pushed at the windows, and the shots fired echoed in the air. The zombies didn’t relent.
“I’m out of cocktails!” Randy said as he ran down the stairs. He took a look at Charlotte and Ben, eyes wide. “Wha–did he get bitten?”
Sara turned to Randy and nodded. Fred reloaded his gun. Richard and Carah stood still as statues, ready to leave when the time came.
“Give it some time,” Fred said. “The fire’ll grow.”
“Charlotte,” Ben said.
“Y-you’ll be fine,” Charlotte said. “It’s not so bad.”
“Charlotte?”
“I’m sorry, Ben.”
“Don’t apologize. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I was too close to the damn window. I was too close.”
“No, this isn’t happening… You’ll be okay.”
The fire grew as more zombies joined it, and after a few minutes, most had abandoned their attempts of getting inside the house.
“Ben, I love you more than anything, and I’ve been selfish.” Tears streamed down Charlotte’s face, and she hugged Ben, fully aware of the fact that he could change at any second, even kill her. She didn’t care. If she were to die, it was going to be in Ben’s arms.
“It doesn’t matter. I love you, Charlotte. I always have. You have to know that.” Ben’s head dipped, and his breathing heightened, then was silent. The noise from the zombies faded as most of them disappeared into the leaping flames.
“Looks like we can go!” Randy said.
Everyone readied themselves to leave, but Charlotte didn’t move.
“Charlotte,” Al said. “We need to go. I know how hard this must be for you—”
“No! I’m not going anywhere!”
“We’re not leaving without you!” Sara said.
“Go,” Ben said. “I love you.”
“I can’t. We’ve got to get to Last Station. Please!”
Ben didn’t respond, except for a deep, slow moan. Charlotte cried harder and backed up a little.
“We’ve gotta go!” Randy said.
“You go! All of you!” Charlotte said. “I’m staying!” Ben lifted his head and looked at her. “Ben?”
“Chrrrrrrr.” His jaws opened, and he leaned toward her. She didn’t move back again.
“I love you, and I’m not leav—”
A loud blast made her jump, but what really shook her was the blood that splattered on her face. Ben’s body tilted to the left and fell to the ground. It made a soft thud on the carpet.
Charlotte sat there for a few seconds before slowly turning around. When she did, she saw the others heading out the front door, except for Al, who was reloading his gun.
“How… how could you?” Charlotte jumped to her feet and pounded Al’s chest. He gently grabbed her hands.
“We need to go, Charlotte. We need to go now!”
“I’m not leaving!”
Al turned and shot a zombie that hadn’t seen the flames, then returned to Charlotte. “Don’t be ridiculous!”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll die by Ben’s side. There’s nothing left for me.”
Al’s face knotted up. “You’re not doing this to me, Charlotte! I’ve already lost your mother! I’m not losing you too!” Al tucked his gun into his pants, lifted Charlotte, and carried her out the door. Fred and Randy stood by the van, shooting at the zombies to clear Al a path.
Charlotte screamed and beat Al on his back, kicking her legs. “Let me go! You can’t do this! Let me stay with him!”
Angus was pacing all over the floorboards, whining. Al put Charlotte inside, jumped in behind her, and the van sped off into the early morning. The fiery lawn shrank in the rearview mirror, but the pain didn’t lessen at all.
****
It took Charlotte a while to build up the courage to speak once they’d hit the road, but a feeling in her was building up even stronger than the guilt from losing Ben. She sat up, waking Angus, who was lying over her feet.
“Can we still go to Last Station?”
Al looked at her, and Fred nodded into the rearview mirror.
“Charlotte,” Al said.
“It’s what I want.”
“Are you sure, dear?” Sara asked.
“As sure as ever.”
“I hope it isn’t a mistake,” Richard said.
“I just feel like I still need to go,” Charlotte said. “I don’t know why, it’s just what I feel.” Al rubbed his daughter’s shoulder gently, and Charlotte sat back against the seat. Carah leaned forward and put a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. Charlotte turned back to see a warm smile. “Last Station should be just under two hours from here.”
Fred nodded. “There’s a motel coming up. Maybe heading out for Last Station would look even better after a few hours of real sleep.”
“That’s fine. It’ll still be there this afternoon.”
Richard noticed Carah yawning and signed, You tired?
I’m exhausted.
Me too. We’re going to stop for a few hours and rest.
Angus got up, squeezed past Al’s legs, and lay down in the space between Al’s seat and the sliding door. Randy reached forward and scratched between Angus’s ears.
Soon a big sign came into view. The name of the motel was scrawled in big, curvy letters:
GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP MOTEL
The van pulled into the long, narrow parking lot. There was a row of at least two dozen parking spaces in front of an equal number of rooms, all of them ground-floor. The lot led right into that of a gas station next to the motel.
Fred pulled up to a pump and exited the van. The air was cool and felt nice as he rubbed a hand through his short, gray hair. He began filling the tank, and then glanced at the small, red car in the motel parking lot. It was the only one there.
Fred bent toward Sara’s open window. “Sure hope the name of this place rings true. I could sleep for days, to be honest.”
“I feel the same way.”
After the van was full, Fred took it to a space several down from the deserted car. It was silent as the seven survivors and their dog got out of the van. Each of the motel room doors had a key taped to it.
“Thank God for small favors,” Al said. “Whoever ran this place was a saint.”
Richard and Carah took the farthest room down, Sara and Fred took the one next door. Randy had the next room to himself, and he fell asleep quickly.
