With her flashlight in hand, Vanessa proceeded to read the entire entry, subconsciously imagining Grace’s ghostly voice guiding her along the cursive passages. The entry spoke of her childhood, and what life was like when she and her family had been moved to Tula Lake at the Japanese internment camps. Grace wrote in detail about her mother’s attempts to keep the family together, only to have it all fall apart in the end. And then, finally, when her eyes came to the end of her tale, Grace’s final words left only a haunting impression in Vanessa’s mind.
Life is as fleeting as the people we meet.
7:32 AM
By the time she reopened her eyes, the desire for sleep had all but cleared away. Vanessa yawned and stretched her arms. It was hard to see a thing beyond the tiny, frosted windows directly below the ceiling. It was too high up, and was obscured both on the inside and out. All Vanessa could make out was that it was morning again, and it was windy outside.
The distorted image of a tree swayed its arms to Vanessa’s right, the tip of its bark bending just a bit. It was cold outside. Vanessa could tell because it was cold inside as well. The temperature didn’t bother her much however. The track uniform was warm, though she had to hide her fingers inside her pockets to keep them from feeling like ice.
She unlocked the door and stepped outside. Leaves blew across her feet, guided by a gust of wind that was every bit as powerful as it was loud. Long whistles of air carried beyond every brush of resistance, shaking all that stood in its path.
Vanessa’s long hair landed over her face, blinding her until she tucked it behind her ear. She watched as the entire baseball park fluttered in one cohesive direction, moving wherever the wind told them to go.
A touch of water dropped on her forehead. Vanessa looked up, and saw a grey cloud hovering directly above. More water began to drop, touching the sleeves of her tracksuit until she started to shiver.
She left the baseball park and wandered along the street, not knowing where she was or where to go. The rain continued until it quickly evolved into a downright storm. The instinct to seek shelter eventually arose from within when her clothes started feeling cold. Vanessa ignored the call, and continued on along her aimless way.
A few feet away on the sidewalk came the body of a grey-haired cop lying with his face against the pavement. Vanessa flinched at the mere sight of him, and widened her eyes when she saw him rise to his feet. Like her, his police uniform was drenched in rain. The man’s eyes were red, and his skin a sickly shade of white.
The infected started pacing in her direction, gaping viciously at her as he did.
The drive for self-preservation suddenly came back the same as it always had. The echoing voice of intuition told her to pick up her feet, to turn around and run. It told her to keep at any which direction necessary to keep her as far away from the infected as possible.
But for the first time, Vanessa didn’t listen.
Intuition always told her everything she needed to know in order to survive. But it never once told her why. It never explained to her the point of survival, or to what end she had to live. Like the infected, humans were creatures of instinct. Nothing more. There was no future to look forward to. No light at the end of the tunnel. Like Grace said at the end of her journal.
Life is as fleeting as the people we meet.
The infected drew closer, staggering until it picked up pace. All the while Vanessa had given up running. What was the point after all, when everybody else was already dead? Why be the last one left behind?
In one solitary second, the infected steeled itself away from her, turning for a second to catch sight of something else. It dropped its jaws, and out came the first signs of a high pitched scream, interrupted only by a louder ring in the air. An undeniable blast, and immediately after the infected’s head shattered into shards of bone and organ.
As Vanessa searched to make sense of what had just happened before her eyes, a man stepped out in front of her. A tall dark man with a bald head and an old looking shotgun.
“Come on,” he said impatiently.
Before Vanessa could react, she felt his large, scaly hand on her arm.
“Come on,” he repeated.
Vanessa didn’t move, so he dragged her instead towards a white SUV on the road that had its front door wide open, and its motor running. He placed her in the back seat before promptly closing the door. He took the wheels, and the car began sprinting away, leaving in its tail a horde of restless infected that she hadn’t noticed before.
Vanessa watched them chase the car, their distance growing further every second. Eventually they stopped running, and gave up altogether.
7:53 AM
His name was Atton Stone. She remembered him only once he mentioned his first name. He was one of the four survivors who’d saved her life three days ago. Or was it four? And he was one of the two that Grace had mentioned left the group. The other, she remembered, was a man named Eli.
They introduced each other. When she asked him how he’d found her, he said he’d been searching since all of last night. When Vanessa told him about what happened back at Costco, and about what happened to Grace, he said he already knew.
“I checked there myself. There were zombies everywhere.”
“Did you see Grace?”
He hesitated. Then, “Yes.”
Vanessa didn’t have to think hard to know what he meant.
“I didn’t find you there, so I thought you’d have taken off by foot.”
“So you spent the whole night looking.”
He confirmed with a nod.
“It was a good thing I found you.”
Vanessa leaned back on her chair, staring out the window beside her whilst quietly wondering if she agreed.
“Thank you,” she replied nonetheless.
Atton nodded. And as he drove the car along unfamiliar roads, Vanessa continued to gaze out into the open scenery. He took her up a freeway she’d never seen before, someplace far away from the city. She didn’t ask where he was taking her. For the life of her she didn’t care. At the most she imagined either that Atton didn’t quite know himself, or that he did know, and that the place was yet another safe house for them to seek refuge in until the infected found a way inside. Whatever the case may have been, Vanessa didn’t hold out much hope.
Out of sheer curiosity, she leaned forward on the driver’s seat to catch the time on the car. 8:24 AM, it said. It wasn’t until she leaned back that Vanessa picked up on the fact that Atton’s car was missing a key in the ignition. The cover on the steering column was gone, and hanging at the bottom of it were a few exposed wires, one tied to the other in a way that she couldn’t tell where one copper link began and the other one ended.
The view outside was a world of disfigured shapes and refractions. Massive pellets of rain obscured what could be seen from the window of her car, leaving little to see in the distant horizon.
“Do you think things will ever get better?” she asked.
Atton glimpsed at her through the rearview mirror.
“I hope so.”
8:43 AM
I know it’s kind of a cliché to think of anything especially bad that happens as a bad dream. I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard people talk about their own personal horror stories and say it was just like a dream, or a nightmare. I hear enough of that on TV, and twice more times from my friends. Or at least I used to.
Still, as corny as it sounds, that was what it felt like to me when people started evacuating California. When Tom and I drove to his father’s bunker up in Fremont, I always had this idea in my head that things weren’t going to last forever. That in a matter of time, the government or the National Guard would have it all cleaned up and solved like it was never there, and Tom and I would eventually step out of that entire disaster like it was just a bad dream. No consequences. No long lasting pain. Things would go back to the way they were before.
Is it too late for optimism? Are we deluding ours
elves when we think that things can always get better?
When Grace said that
8:47 AM
Vanessa dropped her pen when out in the corner of her eye she saw what appeared to be headlights shimmering in the rain. She leaned against the window, and a car drove into view on the leftmost lane of the empty freeway. A red Jaguar convertible. There were people in it. One man, one woman beside him, and a little girl in the back seat. They were all alive.
“Holy shit,” Vanessa gasped. “Are you seeing this?”
The Jag continued forward until it matched the speed of the SUV. Vanessa stared at the people inside just as closely as they stared back at her. The man driving had on sunglasses and a white polo shirt. He was middle-aged, driving with one hand on the steering wheel, another outstretched on the headrest to his right, brushing against the woman sitting next to him. The woman was young, with curled brown hair and a beanie. Their daughter, the girl in the back seat, wore a pink, puffy jacket zipped all the way to her neck, and she had on a pair of large winter gloves. Vanessa estimated her to be around eight or nine years old. She had perfectly round eyes, and hair that was either brown or black. Vanessa couldn’t say for sure, and she couldn’t for the life of her take her eyes off the girl.
She waved a Barbie doll at the window, revealing a toothless grin whilst shouting.
Hi.
Vanessa couldn’t hear it, but her lips weren’t hard to read.
“Where did they come from?” Vanessa mused aloud.
“Don’t know,” Atton replied. “But they’re probably going where we’re going.”
And it suddenly came to Vanessa to finally ask.
“Where are we going?”
“Pier in San Francisco. That’s where everybody’s headed.”
“Everybody?”
“I saw two cars on my way over last night.”
Vanessa furrowed her brows.
“Why? Why’s everybody going to the pier?”
Atton hit the on button on the radio, which was preset to channel 99.3. A third voice entered the car, this one interlaced with mild static. They cut right in the middle of what sounded oddly like a broadcast.
“-time is 8:49 AM. Evacuation is in three more hours. If there’s anyone out there that can hear this, seek shelter in Fisherman’s Wharf. There is no need to grab supplies. There’s plenty of food and water on the island. And the people I’m talking to say that everybody needs to pack light. Bring a spare change of clothes and anything you might need, but nothing more. The ferry will be arriving at Pier 35. I repeat. Pier 35.
“I will broadcast again in five minutes. For now this is Linus Baxter, signing out.”
Vanessa swallowed down.
“Linus? He’s still alive?”
“He made contact with some people on Alcatraz Island. As it turns out, there’s a whole colony of survivors up there. That’s where the first evacuees went after the attack.”
“And that’s where we’re going? Alcatraz Island?”
“That’s the plan.”
Vanessa didn’t know what to make of it. She didn’t know what to make of anything she saw or heard. Four months of not knowing if there was still an outside world to find. And now she finally did.
8:56 AM
I dream of one day becoming a mother. Not the suburban stay-at-home with a husband type, but the type that works, that can support a single child on her own. I often have imaginations of myself as being the cool mom. You know what I’m talking about. The one that’s more of a best friend than a figure head of authority, who’ll be there always to listen without judging. I want a son or daughter to do right by. To teach them all the things my parents never taught me.
Back in the days the more hours I spent cooped up inside my office, the less my dream seemed at all realistic. And if the demands of work weren’t enough, I knew I was never going to have a child with Tom.
It wouldn’t have been right. That’s not the kind of household that I want my first to grow up in. No. If I was ever going to start a family, I knew I’d have to leave Tom first.
But even loveless marriages can be hard to quit. If you’ve ever been in one, you’d probably know. It’s hard to tell your husband let alone yourself that all those years of love and matrimony meant nothing in the end.
Anyhow, in between the heartbreak and my career, I never thought that I would ever have the time or patience to be a mother. As much as I’ve always wanted it, it was always a few miles beyond my reach.
It’s been four months since my life has taken a dive for the worst. But now I think I’m ready to believe in a second chance. Because if not now, then when?
The answer is no. It’s never too late for optimism.
9:12 AM
When they arrived outside the KTLU building, the first thing Vanessa noted was the Costco truck standing in the middle of the road. The second, was the fact that they were slowing down.
“Aren’t we going to the pier? Isn’t that where everyone’s going?”
“We have to get Linus first,” Atton said. “We pick him up, then we head to the pier.”
Vanessa understood, and followed him inside the building.
Linus was on one of the many recording rooms on the second floor, speaking before a microphone with a large headset over his ears. Vanessa was glad to see him, and she didn’t hide it.
“Linus.”
Linus dropped the headset.
“Vanessa. Thank God you’re alight.”
Vanessa scrambled for a hug that Linus only half-heartedly accepted. He winced when his right arm began to stretch, and padded the sleeve of a KTLU jacket he was wearing above his shirt.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he recoiled. “I’m fine. Just a sprain. It’s no big deal.”
He shot Atton a brief glance, but said nothing. As the smile came wider apart on his lips he asked, “So where’s Grace?”
It was a while until Vanessa could finally bring herself to say it.
“She didn’t make it.”
Linus looked utterly crestfallen.
“I’m so sorry. God, I wish I could have done something.”
The air fell quiet then, with their conversation shifting into an inadvertent moment of silence. Before it could persist for too long, Linus turned to Atton and asked a question.
“Do you know how many people are at the pier?”
The burly man shook his head.
“We saw some drive by on our way over here. Other than that, I don’t know. We’ll have to see for ourselves when we get there. You ready?”
“Yeah. I’ve already said all I needed to say. Hopefully enough people got the message. With any luck the ferry should look like Vegas by the time we get there.”
Linus wrinkled his nose before adding, “Hey Atton. There’s no need to tell anyone, right?”
Atton, who seemed to know what Linus was talking about, gave a stern reply.
“They have to know.”
“No. Look man. They don’t.”
“Yes. They do.”
“C’mon. Can’t you just do me this one favor?”
“I can do you favors brother. Just not this.”
“But I need this.”
“I can’t give it to you. I’m sorry, but they have to know.”
“They won’t let me on board if they do. That’s the first thing that guy on the radio said. They won’t it allow it.”
“They’ll understand. Trust me.”
“No. They won’t.”
“What are you guys talking about?” butted Vanessa.
“It’s nothing. Nothing to worry about.”
“Linus was bit.”
“What?”
Vanessa shuddered. Instinct set her eyes to observe Linus for any blemishes that might have come from scratches or bites. She could see nothing, but his jacket concealed any sign of injuries that he might have sustained on his right arm, which now she realized he’d tried to avoid moving.
“I keep tell
ing you, I am fine. The news has it all wrong. Bites don’t do shit.”
“I told you about what happened to Eli.”
“Whatever happened to Eli isn’t happening to me. You said he changed in a few hours. It’s been the same time and I don’t feel a thing. I am not going to turn.”
“I hope so brother. I really do. But even if you’re right,it isn’t our choice not to tell them. The people on that island, the people trying to save our lives, they have the right to know. Especially if we’re going to be living with them.”
“They’re not going to let me in if they find out. Don’t you get it? They’ll shoot me first, or leave me here to die. Is that what you want?”
Atton dropped his shotgun over on the radio terminal, and jutted an enraged finger at Linus.
“Motherfucker if that’s what I wanted I would have shot you myself.”
Linus and Vanessa backed away at the sudden outburst. Atton immediately withdrew, his expression awash with apology.
“The only way we’re going to make it off this city is if we stick together. Now I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’ve got to believe that. Without you none of us would have even come this far. But you’ve got to believe me. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
Linus exhaled a long, resigned sigh.
“I don’t have much of a choice do I?”
“Just stick with me man. I got your back.”
“Alright. Fine. I guess you’re right anyway. I probably wouldn’t be able to hide it even if I tried.”
It was hard to argue with what Atton was saying, but Vanessa nonetheless felt a pinch of doubt in whether it was the right thing to do.
Linus was bit. It was only a matter of time now until he’d start to change. Neither of them knew how it would happen or how soon, but they knew it would happen. It was unavoidable. Of all the things the media didn’t know about the infection, the way that people changed was the one thing they all were certain of. One bite, and people would eventually turn into one of them. If Linus was going to change, then taking him to an island filled with people was only going to put them all at risk.
Fear of the Dead Page 18
