by Lee Dunter
From down the hall Cam said, “What the hell are you doing, man? He’s sick as shit in there.”
“Forget him,” Ryan said. “Everybody, in the cafeteria, now.”
A few minutes later, everyone in the cafeteria, the circle they formed but a broken sphere of its former self–Cam and the Bennets stifling sobs, Roe and Joe both dry-eyed but clearly distressed. Ryan fidgeting in anger and fear of what they would say.
With no hope to offer, he began bluntly. “Albert told me that yesterday morning he allowed himself to be bitten. That’s why he’s been sick all of this time. He’s infected.” He observed their blank expressions, their silent wonderings, and knew it would take some time for them to believe his words. He waited before he continued. “I believe he infected Jaden.”
Except for Reginald’s soft noises within his swaddling, everything remained silent. The proof of the hour crept brightly in through the window, and its reassuring blaze seemed out of place in a such a dark time.
Cam broke the silence. “Wait, this is a joke, right?” And as if to prove himself correct: “If he was bit yesterday morning, why hasn’t he changed yet?”
“No one knows how long it takes for someone to change,” Joe said.
“That’s right,” Roe said. “Besides, have any of you seen Albert in the last few days? If what Ryan says is true, and I have no clue why he would say this if it weren’t, then the signs of infection are clear. He could go any minute.”
“It’s true, what I said,” Ryan said. “Why would I make this up?”
Cam furrowed his brow. “But if Albert was the one who transferred the infection to Jaden, shouldn’t he have changed before? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“The boy is much smaller,” Mr. Bennet said, clearly reluctant for his voice to be heard. “It would be perfectly reasonable to assume his immune system is more prone to the virus than a full grown man. Happens all the time with other ailments.”
Cam had nothing more to say. After a brief silence, the silence that follows the revelation of most tragedies, Ryan told them what Albert believed about the virus.
“Does he have any other theories?” Kyle asked, intrigued. Ryan shook his head.
The twins scoffed at the idea, however. “It’s horseshit,” Joe said.
“Absolute horseshit.” Roe agreed. “Why does he think he can just change the rules? We’re the fucking experts. In Atlanta, I saw people get bit and change right before my eyes. Ryan, come on, you were there with us. How can you believe this?”
Lost in thought, Ryan heard himself say, “I never said I believed it.”
“Wait,” Roe suddenly said.
Joe and Roe simultaneously pieced something together. They looked at each other, their faces full of quizzical pity, and they nodded. “Ryan, how long have you known that Albert was infected?”
Realizing he had been caught, Ryan chose not to lie, remaining silent against his accusers.
His silence told them everything they needed to know. “My God,” Joe said, disgusted. Silence spread through the room. Ryan’s face flushed red under their glares, the silence roaring in his ears.
Finally, Joe said, “You fucking asshole.”
“You’ve betrayed our trust,” Roe said. “Your silence sent those two to the grave.”
The twins turned stood and walked to the far corner, their whispering voices indistinguishable. Ryan watched them go, and he felt Guilt lay on him like prison cell chains, holding him down, restraining him until he received the punishment he deserved. He began to cry, hating that the others were watching, but unable to stop. He had wanted to blame Albert, but he now knew he was to blame: he was the leader and had multiple chances to prevent this.
After three minutes, the twins returned from their private conference. Roe spoke for them. “We’re leaving. We can’t stay here with someone we can’t trust. The fact that you would do something like this, when something like this has already happened once . . . ” He shook his head, and they began walking towards the door.
Ryan filled with panic, the thought losing them causing a tremor in his body. How long could they last without Roe and Joe?
Ryan stood and spoke to their back. “Please don’t go. We need you. I’m–I’m sorry. What I did was wrong, and if I could go back and change it, I would put a fucking bullet in his head the moment he showed me the bite. But I can’t do that. Please, don’t cause more bloodshed because of what I’ve done.”
Kyle took his side. “If you don’t stay for him, stay for us. We’re doomed without you.”
The twins, who hadn’t paid Ryan any attention, stopped for Kyle. “You can come with us if you want,” Joe said. “Any of you. The only reason we stayed to begin with was to let things calm down out there. And things seemed to have. So you’re welcome to come, but we’re not staying here.” They walked out, and the door closed quietly behind them.
When they had gone, Ryan said, “Go. He’s right. This is all my fault. You’re better off with them than with me.” He waited for their movement, their curses, or maybe even their attacks. In his mind, he was back at the elementary school playground, where kids ignored him, where good little boys and good little girls listened to their parents about the boy who would grow up to be disturbed. He had proven them right.
“I’m staying,” Kyle said. His voice was startlingly firm. “You have a heart for the sick and broken. How can I fault you for that?”
“I’m with you and Kyle,” Cam said, sniffling.
“As much as I would love to leave this place,” Mrs. Bennet said, clutching Reginald closely, “I’m afraid we’re not getting very far with the children.” Her tears had dried. She looked in shock.
Mr. Bennet cuddled his wife. “You mean with Reginald, dear.” He glared at Ryan. “We’re staying, but not for you.”
Suddenly, a gunshot rang in the air, causing everyone to jump. There was silence and then another gunshot. Mrs. Bennet pulled Reginald closer as he began to wail. Cam looked at the others, and, standing, walked to the cafeteria door. Ryan followed and opened the door. Roe stood in the hall, poised for fire with the group’s standard rifle in hand. He lowered the weapon. At his feet Jaden was sprawled facedown, the floor visible through a hole in his head. Roe bent over, picked up the body, and, slinging it over his shoulders, walked down the stairs. Roe came out of the room with Mike’s body over his shoulders, the thing dripping blood, and he followed his twin. In their possession they each had a very empty looking book bag, a bolt-action rifle, and a machete. They had left the handguns and the carbine. A smile hinted at Ryan’s lips. They could have–and should have–kicked Ryan out of the building, but didn’t. And he knew why: Ryan would die out there alone. When he had first met Roe and Joe, they were reluctant to let Ryan join them and would have refused Cam if not for Ryan. It could be easy to mistake their leaving as selfish, but instead Ryan saw in it a selflessness that the twins did not possess only a few days ago. Ryan watched Roe disappear down the stairs, struggling with the large body, and a sense of doom spread over him. Even now, Roe and Joe were doing what they did best: protecting others. The twins were the reason he had escaped Atlanta and the reason they found this place. What would happen without the twin’s protection? This idea frightened Ryan to the bones. A cold shiver up his spine made the warm room to feel like an icebox.
Chapter 16
There were many things to do, the first of which involved the source of this mayhem, Albert–that is if Ryan were to ignore the suspicion that the others saw him as the source. No matter who the source was, the burden of being leader still belonged to Ryan. What am I supposed to do with you now, Albert? Ryan wondered. All eyes were on him, and in their looks, with varying amounts of sympathy, he read the same thing: you helped us into this mess, so now get us out. Ryan tried to imagine himself shooting Albert–taking him outside, looking him in the eyes, and asking him for a last request, right before he pulled the trigger. No, I definitely couldn’t do that, he thought. And neither could anyone
else. The only ones who could do this had just left. This was just the first ripple, Ryan knew.
Thinking of his incapability, Ryan said the first thing that came to mind. “Look, everyone. I’m sorry for what I’ve done. If you want me to leave, I will. I’ll pack up some supplies and be out of here in ten minutes. I’ll catch up with Roe and Joe and send them back.”
“No one wants that,” Kyle said after an awkward silence, but the look on Mr. and Mrs. Bennet’s faces told Ryan otherwise. “You were just taking care of a friend. I probably would have done the same thing as you. Yes, I definitely would have.”
“Then you would have made the same horrible mistake that I made,” Ryan said. He averted his eyes from the group, staring at his crisscrossed legs. “I just wish things would have turned out differently.”
Cam winced. “Me too. But they didn’t, did they? You could have chosen differently, but you didn’t. Were there consequences? Yes. But a life would have been taken in the other case, too.”
Ryan thought about Cam’s words, which twisted a painful knot in his throat, and after a moment they began to sink in. Cam was right; there were consequences for the other choice as well. This realization did nothing to assuage his guilt, but it gave him courage to move on. Not acting is what caused this situation in the first place.
“Okay,” Ryan said. “Where do we go from here?”
There were nervous glances all around. Cam continued with the good advice: “I think we all know we can’t just kill him. I mean, who the fuck would be able to do that?” The silence that followed confirmed the truth.
“Banishing him may as well be murder,” Kyle said. “And he certainly doesn’t deserve a death sentence.” He shook his head with a positive frown. “I won’t have anything to do with that.”
“That doesn’t leave us with many options, then,” Ryan said. He suggested the following hesitantly: “We could just wait till he changes and then . . . take him out.”
Mr. Bennet laughed, wife in his arms, the baby in her arms. “Now there’s an idea. Let’s take unnecessary risks again and see who gets killed this time. Fantastic.”
Cam scowled. “Look, if you have any great fucking ideas, we’re open to hearing them.”
Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes at the profanity. He shrugged, sticking his head out, one hand raised thoughtfully in the air. “We should lock him up. Barricade him in the upstairs office, so he can’t get out no matter how much he thrashes around.”
Ryan looked at him, surprised. “Ya. That might actually work. We could put him in a safe place, out of harm’s way, and let him spend his last bit of time in peace.”
“I wouldn’t really consider that God-given peace,” Kyle said, “but it seems to be our only option.”
As they led Albert upstairs, Ryan walked backwards to keep his eyes, over the top of the gun, locked on Albert. He aimed for Albert’s face, wearing a serious mask to let Albert know he would pull the trigger without hesitation. Sluggishly walking, much like the living dead, Albert made no sign that he would force Ryan’s hand. His movement alarmed Ryan, and multiple times he considered pulling the trigger, but he fought the instinct, and they made it safely to Bill’s office. Once inside, Ryan instructed Albert to face the back wall, and Cam and Kyle heaved Bill’s large desk against the door, leaving only a small gap for them to exit by. They then emptied Bill’s bookcase and, grunting heavily, heaved it on top of the desk, the two pieces of furniture sliding across each other coarsely. The heavy, fine oak would be too much for Albert to maneuver alone. The room was now a mess, books and folders scattered across the floor, the furniture unappealingly cramped by the door–a cruel coffin for a fine man, Ryan thought. If Ryan could prolong the process, he would–this was one door he didn’t want to shut–but Albert was beginning to shake with the simple effort of standing, a sign that surely meant his time was near. The task from the inside was now finished, anyways. Kyle, then Cam, then Ryan climbed over the bookshelf and slid out of the office. Cam and Albert locked eyes over the bookshelf, making Ryan’s heart sink. He knew that the two had bonded in a manner that eluded the others, and Ryan wished he had something like that, something to quell his loneliness.
Ryan shut the door. The group went down the hall towards the staircase, where they began collecting desks, chairs, and shelves the barricade could spare. Piling these against the office door, watching it slowly disappeared behind the rubble, until the door could barely be seen, they wished Albert a pointless good luck and left the office behind.
There would be no hope of serendipity this time. After so much pain, Ryan needed to see something beautiful. Cam and Ryan each went to their room–lethargy is a sign of depression, Ryan suddenly heard in his head, remembering his childhood counselor. Ryan, instead, went to the classroom in which the brunette girl was staying and peered inside. She stood, staring out the window, her back to him so that she did not notice him at the door. Her brown hair fell in thick, wavy curls over her back, poofing out wide and frizzled. It looked slightly damaged, but Ryan guessed it could easily be tamed again. Until moments ago, he had forgotten this girl was here was even in the school, and now she had him frozen with indecision.
While Ryan was in this state, she suddenly turned around and made eye contact. Ryan gaped at the ocean that stared back, swallowed, and opened the door. He felt his palms sweating as gripped the doorknob, and he hated himself for it. Deborah was gone, but he still felt married. He walked to her and extended a hand, smiling. After they gently shook hands, he felt awkward, unsure why he was here. He defaulted to a nervous introduction.
“I’m Ryan.” Her blue eyes stared into his, and Ryan forced himself not to look away.
“Molly,” she said. “I’m Molly. Is everything all right out there? I heard some commotion earlier.”
“Oh, that.” Ryan had to look away to lie. “Don’t worry about that. It’s all taken care of now.”
“Okay.” She didn’t seem convinced.
“Is there anything I can get for you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t even know where I am or how I get here. The last thing I remember . . . ” She trailed and looked away. “I remember seeing you. And some other man with glasses, and I think he had only one hand. And there was skinny, older woman. That may have been a dream. I can’t really tell. It’s all jumbled together.” She closed her eyes, and began to massage her temples with two fingers.
Does she feel guilty over trying to kill herself, Ryan wondered. She had circumvented the topic. “I’m sorry,” he heard himself say. “I don’t really know much about what’s going on here, but I can let you know everything I can.” She opened her eyes. “We found you . . . ” he treaded carefully, “in the Wal-Mart. We’re in Huntwood preschool right now, and those two people you mentioned were real, Kyle and Marge. They’ve been looking after you. We have another three people, and a baby in our group.” He grimaced at their low their numbers.
She nodded, squinting. “Ya, ya it’s starting to come back now.” She didn’t sound grateful for that.
“Anything else you’d like to know?”
“Thanks, but I think I just want to be alone right now.”
“Okay. Take whatever time you need.” She turned back to the window, and Ryan left the room, closing the door behind him. Also wanting to be alone, he went to the cafeteria and sat on the wall opposite the window, anxious to postpone nothing, for that was all life was now. The sun shone in his face and felt warm and good and wholesome. He looked around the empty room and imagined all the faces that should be there now, faces of young boys and girls who should be eating and laughing and playing but instead were dead or worse.
He continued to think of death and then realized, not surprisingly, that death was different than before the outbreak. When his parents died, he had mourned for months, even years, and he still felt the impact of that. Deborah had died less than a week ago, and he was already noticing another woman. It was odd. He wanted to mourn, but there was something prev
enting it, possibly the guilt and confusion he felt surrounding her death. And he did sincerely miss her. If she were by his side, this hell, which made all of the bad times in his life seem tame, would be easier to endure.
Deborah’s death wasn’t the only one left un-mourned. Bill’s death, though devastating, was un-mourned, as was Ms. Jackson’s and Ms. Thomas’s. Ryan could barely remember what the latter looked like. The outbreak was sucking meaning from everything, including death. Over half of the world was dead, as far as they knew, so why should they mourn the loss of a few more? Death was the new obesity, the new affair, the new divorce; everyone was participating–the shock effect was gone.
The one exception was Jaden’s death. Because of this, darkness descended upon the school like a violent thunderstorm. Jaden had been so young and so liked, a roof to hide under in the chaotic storm, and the halls were now eerie and silent with him gone. At some point, Ryan realized that Jaden was the first zombie child he had seen. He had seen children hurt and killed, but never carrying out the gruesome acts of the undead. His back against the wall, his right arm leaning on his propped right leg, his eyes staring at the floor, Ryan accepted that it was his fault for allowing Jaden to change. I let that thing be born under this roof.
Ryan looked up and saw Cam enter the cafeteria. The sound of his footsteps and the door swinging shut ended Ryan’s alone time, for Cam spent the remainder of the day glued to Ryan’s side. Jaden’s death devastated Cam the most. He had been the pirate, the firefighter, the cop, the cowboy inside of Jaden’s games, and now with all of this gone, Cam did not know what to do. Cam would have normally discussed these emotions with Albert, Ryan suspected, but he was gone too. The sudden loss of his two friends was too much for the young man to cope with alone.
Eventually, Kyle joined Ryan and Cam. The three of them finally cleaned up the mess from the morning. After that long and difficult task, a difficulty that went beyond physical effort, there wasn’t much to do but to sit and try to distract each other. At times, Cam left and helped the Bennets with Reginald, but Mrs. Bennet only allowed him to bring her supplies. Reginald seemed to be the only one operating at normal speed: the diaper count remained as active as ever.
