by Jason Alters
‘Yeah, no problem.’
Anton was my boyfriend of two years. He had been my rock when dad passed away and was just about the most supportive boyfriend any girl could have ever asked for. Contrary to what Brandon believed, my dad’s death ripped a huge hole in my heart. He was a great man. A funny man. A man who didn’t just light up a room; he lit up the world. When he fell ill, I couldn’t bare the sight of watching him wither away. I was twenty years old and had just gotten my life together enough to think about moving out of Altoona and going to college or finding some equally productive way to live my life. But of course, there was no leaving. Not when I knew that he wouldn’t make it any longer. And so, I stayed in Altoona and avoided dad- in the late stages of his illness- as much as possible. There was a lot of throwing up, a lot of crying, and a man who was at least a hundred pounds lighter than my dad, in my dad’s body. Brandon thought I was being cruel for not coming around. But it was a burden too hard to bear and so, I sat in church and prayed, day after day. I prayed that he’d get fatter. I prayed that he’d stop puking. I prayed that he’d remember how to smile. But most of all, I prayed that his sickness was all a dream. Unfortunately it wasn’t and as a result, our family lost a very remarkable member.
Chapter 2
‘Anton!’ I approached from behind and threw my arms around him as I planted a kiss on his cheek.
The great thing about Altoona was that nothing bad ever happened here. There was no crime, no violence- outside of the occasional bar brawl. This meant that no one saw the need to lock their doors and I could just storm into Anton’s home without even having to knock. He lives by himself, in a neat two bedroom, one bathroom house which he kept begging me to help him turn into a home. But I was far too young and had mom to look out for. Plus, I liked being able to pop in and out whenever I pleased. Settling down and playing house wasn’t something I was at all ready for.
‘Baby girl,’ he flashed me a smile, still clutching the PS3 controller in his hands.
‘You mean to tell me that you’re not going to put that thing down and greet me properly.’
‘Priorities babe, priorities,’ he joked.
After Anton finished losing to the computer in whatever car game it was that took up most of his days, he turned around to give me the attention I truly deserved.
‘So, how’s your day been?’ he started.
‘Well, for the most part, quiet. But then not so quiet.’ He furrowed his eyebrows and prompted me to continue. ‘Brandon called. Mom had a panic attack or something and had to go to doc.’
‘Yikes.’
‘Wasn’t anything serious, to be honest. She thinks zombies are coming to get us.’
Anton slapped my leg. ‘Stop it.’
‘I’m serious. That’s what she said.’
‘It’s how you said it. Like she’s crazy or something.’
‘I know, I know. I get that she’s stressed and all. I just wish that she would let this thing go. I mean, I think, in a way, that dad’s death is really what’s bothering her and she’s just using this world coming to an end thing as a façade. I’m there to help her. To talk to her. But there’s no benefit in letting her think that I believe in that sort of crap.’
‘It’s a two way effort though Liz. You were kinda distant when your dad was going through stuff and so maybe she thinks she’ll rub you the wrong way if she brings it up. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to talk to you about it.’
‘I get what you’re saying. But I thought that me staying here was enough to prove to her that I’m not just gonna bail.’
‘Still doesn’t mean she thinks it’s a subject that you’re willing to discuss.’
‘I guess I could bring it up when I head home and see how that plays out.’
‘Back to this zombie thing. You really don’t think there’s much to it, do you?’
I laughed heartily only to stop upon noticing that Anton hadn’t joined in. ‘Wait. You’re serious?’
‘Of course I’m serious. Not so much zombies as sick people acting like zombies. But whatever words you put to it, there are people going around eating other people.’
‘But not here.’
‘Not yet.’
I felt a chill run down my spine. Anton was usually a realistic guy. He wasn’t the one to buy into conspiracy theories, fairy tales, ghost stories or any of that mumbo jumbo. ‘Stop it, Anton.’
‘I’m being serious, Liz. Come on. Think about it. It’s not like I’m telling you that people are crawling out of their graves but there’s something happening and it’s not happening too far away. As soon as it gets out of Birmingham you know that it’s time everyone started taking things more seriously. I’m just hoping that they’ll catch one of these things and do the research necessary to find out what’s causing it.’
‘It’s drugs,’ I insisted not wanting to buy into that paranoia that everyone else was exuding.
‘It’s definitely not drugs.’ He shook his head.
‘I beg to differ.’
‘Beg to differ all you want.’ Anton chuckled perhaps seeing the newfound fear plastered all over my face and trying to lighten the mood. ‘Am I scaring you?’ he rested his hand on my shoulder. I brushed it off briskly.
‘You’re not scaring me. I don’t believe in that crap.’
‘It’s not crap. But I think we should change the subject. You seem to be getting irritated.’
He was right. I was getting irritated. It seemed like my entire day was being consumed by zombies. Zombies that didn’t exist.
‘What would you like to talk about instead?’
‘You moving in,’ Anton said coyly.
‘You already know my position on that. Plus, if I move in, the first thing that would have to go is that,’ I pointed to his gaming console.
‘Eh. I wouldn’t mind replacing that for you.’ He reached his arms over and pulled me closer to him.
‘Maybe one day.’
‘Maybe today.’
‘And what happens when you get sick of me?’
Anton pursed his lips and shook his head fervently. ‘Me, get sick of you. That would never happen. Not when you’ve got lips as luscious as those,’ he leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine.
I scooted forward on the large leather sofa, placed my hand on the nape of his neck and pulled him into me. We kissed for a while, only to be interrupted by my cellphone.
‘Leave it,’ Anton insisted.
‘I can’t. If it’s Brandon, he’ll chew my ears off for ignoring him when I get home.’ I replied, reaching into my pocket, pulling the cellphone out.
‘Brandon. What can I do for you this time my dear brother?’ I said chirpily.
‘Well, there are a lot of things actually, but how does tomato paste sound for a start?’
‘Oh come on, you didn’t really interrupt my make out session to talk to me about canning.’
‘Eew and too much information. But yes, that’s pretty much why I called. But only because mom wanted me to call. She’s wondering if you’d mind if she went ahead and prepared everything, save you the work.’
‘No. I’ll do it. I’ll be home in a few.’
‘Mom, Liz says it’s completely fine,’ I heard him yell.
‘Brandon!’
‘What,’ he whispered, ‘she really wants to do it and I’d rather have her thinking about squished tomatoes than something else.’
‘But you know how she gets. She’s probably mad because I didn’t finish up. You’re just gonna stress her out.’
‘She’s not mad, Liz. I promise. She actually seems pretty keen on getting it done.’
In the background I could hear mom yell something at Brandon; something I couldn’t quite decipher. ‘What did she say?’ I asked.
‘She’s wondering if you’ll help out with the bug out bags when you get home.’
‘Sure,’ I replied, not wanting the conversation to go on any longer. ‘Now, do you mind if I get back to smooching?’
Anton chuckled.
‘Whatever,’ he replied. ‘I would tell you to have fun by I’m not going to allow my imagination to drift that far.’
Brandon hung up and I set the phone down on the massive wooden coffee table in front of me.
‘Everything okay?’ Anton asked.
‘Yeah. I need to do my bug out bag,’ I scoffed.
‘I’ve actually been thinking about doing one of those for myself. Maybe you can hook me up when you’re taking care of yours tonight.’
‘Seriously?’ I looked at him with confusion in my eyes. Was he really trying to prepare for a zombie apocalypse that would never happen?
‘Seriously,’ he answered in all sincerity.
‘I’m not even gonna ask why, but sure.’
‘You think I’m joking. Follow me to my room, I’ve actually bought a pretty nice pack already.’
I got up from the couch and followed Anton into his boyish looking bedroom. The walls were painted in a deep blue and his dresser was filled with more toy cars than any kid could ever dream of having. But they were collectables, which, to him, made it okay to have so many of them. As far as I was concerned, toy cars were toy cars and if he wasn’t five years old, I didn’t see the point in having them.
Anton scuffled around in the closet for a minute before turning around and tossing a grocery store plastic bag on the bed.
‘That’s it?’ I gasped in disbelief.
‘No, silly. It’s inside. Like I said, I bought it not too long ago, so it’s still wrapped up and everything. Go ahead, open it and take a look. I bet you’ll like what you see.’
I flopped down on Anton’s bed and fiddled with the knot on the plastic bag until it came undone. Inside was something I didn’t expect. Not from someone who knew little to nothing about prepping. Sure, he had great outdoor skills; he loved hunting, fishing and knew how to start a fire in record time. ‘You spent a pretty penny on this,’ I glanced at him suspiciously.
‘You could say so. I did a bit of research and it seemed like this one was one of the best in my price range.’
I dangled the earth colored Molle backpack in the air and examined it closely. ‘Mine isn’t half this nice,’ I confessed.
‘I could order you one,’ he replied instantaneously.
‘No. No. Absolutely not. I know how much these things cost. Plus, it’s not all in the price, you know.’
‘Like I said. I did my research.’
‘You sure did. It’s got compartments for days, a sturdy grab and go handle and yup, a hydration pocket.’
‘So it’s good?’
‘No doubt. Want me to take it home and get it stocked.’
‘That would be great. Or maybe you could just help me here. I’ve got quite a bit of stuff to go in there.’
‘You got a good knife?’
‘A Gerber LMK II.’
‘Shut up.’
‘What,’ he laughed.
‘What’s going on with you? Why are you prepping?’
‘For the zombies,’ he replied in a creepy tone.
‘Ugh.’
‘No. It’s just after hanging out with you and your mom, I started to find this kind of stuff interesting. Of course I don’t think the world’s gonna come to an end anytime soon, but I’m always up for a good camping trip. And I want to make sure that if I get lost in the jungle I can last for some time.’
‘Altoona doesn’t have a jungle,’ I laughed.
I understood where Anton was coming from. After all, he was a guy and guys loved that kind of stuff. If buying a bug out bag and getting lost in the woods made him happy, then I was happy to set it up for him. At least that way I’d know he had a great chance of surviving without me. Not that he couldn’t take care of himself but, I liked to think that I played my part in keeping him safe. If I’d left it up to him, he’d have Chef Boyardee would have been a permanent face in his kitchen.
‘Well, fetch me the knife. I’ve got to get going now.’
‘So soon?’
‘It’s pretty dark outside, Anton and no, I’m not sleeping here tonight,’ I smirked.
‘I could walk you home.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ I refused, ‘it’s just a fifteen minute walk at the most.’
‘Are you sure?’ He turned his head away from the bag he’d been foraging through and raised the knife he’d been searching for.
‘Positive,’ I assured him. I took the knife from Anton, placed it in the backpack and was ready to go.
***
Outside, the sun was no longer high in the sky. The moon shone brightly and cool winds brushed across my cheek as I strode down the lonely streets of Altoona. A peaceful night, the trees bustled in the wind and the calmness of the town was undeniable. I liked walking home alone. I felt like I could really get in tune with my thoughts that way. As I strolled toward my street, I tried to work up the courage to talk to my mother about dad’s death. It was the right thing to do. She needed to know that I was there for her, not only physically, but emotionally as well. Around the bend, reaching the halfway point to my house, I heard a rummaging in the bushes. My first thought was that it must have been a raccoon or maybe just a rat. We had a lot of those things in Altoona. I peered a little closer, trying to get a better look at what it might be- out of sheer curiosity. And then, a loud gasp escaped me. What I saw, closely resembled a t-shirt; a ripped t-shirt on the back of a man or woman with cuts on his or her skin. That couldn’t be. I quickened my pace, trying hard to escape what I knew I must have imagined. But every step I took, I could hear the rattling of leaves, and what sounded like someone or something breathing excessively hard. ‘You’re just imagining things,’ I told myself as my quick steps turned into a halfway jog. But it was too late. Images flashed in an out of my mind. Images like the one mother had described from her dream. I was only a few minutes from home now. I could make it. I could outrun whatever it was that followed me. While running, I managed to free Anton’s backpack from my shoulders and get hold of the knife. I ran. Faster and faster. Trying to escape this thing that seemed just as fast as I was; trying to escape something I was one hundred percent sure wasn’t happening. If mother had seen me, she would have said, ‘Liz, people who run with knives deserve to get cut.’ I could almost hear her voice scolding me like a child. But there was no stopping me. Even the thoughts of tripping in one of the many potholes along the sidewalk didn’t stop me. Just another minute and I would be home. I could see my house in front of me. There were lights ‘on’ in the bedroom and the living room. I was close. I was almost there. With my hand still gripping the knife firmly, I ran even faster now not sure how I managed the energy to quicken my pace. Finally. I stopped by the front gate, rested my hands on my knees, and tried hard to compose myself- taking long deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Going inside panting like a race horse wasn’t an option. Brandon and mom wouldn’t stop until they found out what I was running from. They’d pick me apart and I couldn’t have that. There was no way I was going to tell them that for a few minutes, I thought I was being chased by a zombie. In fact, I didn’t even believe I was being chased by such a thing. I was just running. I was running for no reason. I was running because mom, Brandon and even Anton had filled my mind with these silly images. I took a deep breath and just when I was about to head inside, the front door swung open.
‘Brandon,’ I jolted up, hiding the knife behind my back.
The light from the living room shone from behind him, making it relatively easy to see the puzzled look on his face.
‘What on earth are you doing?’
‘Nothing,’ I said defensively. ‘Nothing. I’m just coming home. Is there something wrong with that?’
His eyebrows furrowed. ‘Seriously Liz, you’re really strange.’
‘Am not,’ I shot back. ‘There was a rabbit here. A little baby rabbit and I was just trying to find it.’
‘And what do you have in your hand.’
‘Nothing. I don’t have anything
in my hand.’
‘So why are you hiding it behind your back.’
‘I am not.’
I contemplated dropping the knife and showing Brandon my empty hands but there was no way he wouldn’t hear it clank on the concrete.
‘Whatever,’ he said, before sliding his fingers through the handle of the trash bag that stood behind him and pulling it out.
When he was consumed with lifting the cover of the bin and tossing the bag in, I quickly made my way inside and tossed the knife in the backpack.
‘Liz,’ mom called out from the kitchen.
Her back was turned to me and thus, she didn’t yet get a glimpse of my suspicious looking face.
‘Hey mom. How are you feeling?’
‘I’m okay darling.’ She turned on the tap, making it difficult to hear the next few words she rambled.
‘What was that?’ I made my way closer to her, resting the backpack on the sofa.
‘I asked if you’re hungry, dear.’
‘Oh. Yeah. I could definitely have a bite. What did you cook?’
She lifted the lid off a pot to reveal the contents. ‘Just a little gumbo,’ she smiled.
‘Smells delish. Do you mind if I get washed up first and then I’ll be right out?’
‘Not at all. But make it quick. Brandon’s been trying to stick his fingers in the pot even before it was ready, so if you’re not carefully, he’ll eat your serving and mine.’ A subtle laugh escaped her.
Chapter 3
After a delicious meal with mom and Brandon, it was time to get to work. The images I had in my head of being chased by nothingness, was as good as gone.
‘That’s a pretty pack,’ Brandon said, admiring Anton’s bug out bag. ‘Lots of compartments, sturdy, and the perfect color too. I’d say your boyfriend is a lot more of a prepper than you are.’
‘I’m not really a prepper,’ I chuckled. ‘I’m just a daughter listening to her mother’s commands.’
