Dying Days: Death Sentence
Page 7
“Shit, nobody knows. The grid went down before any of those rat-bastards in Washington knew what hit ‘em,” Jay gloated.
Harry sat silently. Weariness weighed down his mind and body and he could barely keep his eyes open. Every few seconds, he could feel his eye lids begin to close and he would snap them open like nothing happened. The humid air made him feel more drained and tired. Finally, he gave up and laid his head on the table.
“You out?” George asked.
“Totally,” Harry quipped and crossed his arms under his head like a pillow. His cheek stuck to it immediately, but he didn’t care he.
Jay slid the gun away from where Harry’s arms were crossed and placed it directly in front of George. “Ex-military?”
“Desert Storm,” George answered. “You?”
“Nah, I just hunt. So far it’s served me pretty well.”
“Animals aren’t infected?”
“Not any I’ve seen,” Jay said.
“Catch much to eat being this close to the interstate?” George asked.
“I’ve nabbed a few cats and a gator once. Oh, boy…that was fun! Those animals fed me for a while though.”
George stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Been a long day, do you mind if I knock off?”
“Sure, sure, I ain’t no bad host,” Jay laughed.
George didn’t see the joke in it, but he grinned and shook his head in agreement. “I’d prefer to sleep out here under the stars; if you don’t mind, that is.”
“Sounds like a fine fucking plan to me; it’s hot as fuck in there. I could use the breeze to cool me down some,” Jay said and stood up.
“Do you have any water?” George asked.
“Shit, I wish. I’m almost out myself.”
“Then why do you wait around then?”
Jay stretched out on the bench besides the walkway and pulled his hat down over his face. “Because I’m like a gatekeeper.”
George let it drop and went to the other side of the table. He knew Jay wasn’t right, but he didn’t know what he was going to do about it yet.
***
George didn’t know how long he’d been asleep before the call of nature woke him up. Pissing in the middle of the night was one thing he really hated about getting old. He figured he could live through some knee pain and his hair either fleeing his body or turning white, but his bladder’s midnight calling irritated him.
When he sat up, he didn’t see Jay on the bench. Harry still had his head buried in his arms, but he could make out Jay standing behind him in the faint moonlight.
“I hope you don’t mind, George,” Jay whispered.
The sinking feeling in George’s stomach turned into a freefall. “Don’t mind what?”
Jay backed away and, when he spoke, his voice hitched, holding back sobs. “I’m so hungry. It’s been days since I ate something. I just wanted to cut off a little and eat again.”
“I knew you were a crazy son of a bitch,” George said and rose from the table.
Jay knelt down and dropped the large knife he had pointed at Harry. He buried his face in his palms and wept. “I’ve been so alone and hungry.”
“What about the animals you bragged about bagging?”
“I did, but them done been eaten long ago. The animals moved out after the hordes came through,” Jay sobbed.
“Toss the knife over here,” George stated.
Jay picked up the knife off the ground and stared at the blade for a moment. Studying the blade, he ran his finger along its edge and tossed it at George. Blood swelled up along the cut and he put his finger in his mouth. Warm coppery drops touched his tongue and he sucked more from the wound.
“This is all our futures,” Jay said.
“No, we have to be better than this. I have to make sure we are going to be better before I go. I want Harry to survive and I want all those who fight to put this behind them and rebuild the world to be better,” George said.
“What about me?” Jay asked.
“Go and never look back. I pray you can find the peace you couldn’t find out here by yourself.”
Jay stood up and bowed to George. “What about my blade?”
George picked up the knife at his feet. “I want you to keep it as a sign there is still mercy left in the world. I’m not going to let you live only to have one of them get you. I’m giving you a fighting chance.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, get the fuck out of here before I change my god damned mind,” George said and tossed the knife back to Jay. He let it hit the ground before him and he bent down to pick it up.
“I’m sorry,” Jay muttered and turned his back to George.
“And don’t let me catch you again,” George warned Jay.
George watched Jay walk south, down the exit road, back to the interstate. The darkness swallowed Jay and George relaxed. He looked at Harry and realized he felt responsible for him. In the absence of any family for the two of them, they’d have to settle on each other.
***
“Where’d Jay go?” Harry asked. He yawned and stretched his arm out in front of him. The sun had only been up for about a half hour and the heat was already making him break out in a sweat. He lifted his arm and sniffed his arm pit.
“That’s gross, Harry.”
Harry’s face distorted in disgust and he pulled his nose away from his pits. “Yeah, it’s pretty fucking gross. Of course, I haven’t had time in my schedule to grab a shower.”
“If I find a pretty clean pool, I’m jumping in and washing off. Shit, we haven’t even had a good rain to rinse us off.”
Harry looked around the rest stop again. “Jay out looking for food?”
“No, he split last night,” George stated.
“Why?”
“I told him I’d fucking kill him if he didn’t.”
Harry pondered George’s words for a moment. “Not a good dude, huh?”
“No, he was not and I made him see the error of his ways.”
“You didn’t kill him did you?” Harry asked.
George chuckled. “You really don’t think that highly of me?”
“Well, you are you,” Harry retorted.
Both laughed and dug through their packs for a bite to eat for breakfast. They sat in silence and devoured the MREs. The sun burned hot in the sky and George felt his skin begin to burn. He glanced down at his arms to see they were a nice deep red from their days on the road. Places began to peel and he picked at the dead skin flaking from his arm. Harry saw him and grimaced. He looked at his own arms and saw he wasn’t faring much better.
“That’s just fucking gross,” Harry stated.
George realized how much he’d pulled from his arm and stopped. “I guess you’re right.”
“Are we going to try to go it on foot again? Losing the bikes sucked.”
“I have given that some thought,” George answered.
Harry looked around the parking lot and, in the morning light, he saw there were multiple cars and trucks in the lot. “One of those?” he asked and pointed to the parking lot.
“I had a better idea.”
“What?”
“Follow me,” George said and got up from the picnic table.
Harry got up and followed George around the back of the rest stop. He hadn’t thought about it before, but, through the overgrown lawn, they came across a maintenance shed. He saw a worn out area in the tall grass and weeds where the door had been used frequently.
“What do you think we’ll find?” Harry asked.
“I think we can find the maintenance cart. See the tracks?” George asked and pointed to the places where the grass had been run over. “Jay must have been using it to go on his hunts.”
“Nice,” Harry replied. Giddiness filled his voice. He really didn’t want to walk the rest of the way to Milton Mouse World.
“So, let’s see what we have inside, behind door number one,” George said and swung the doors open wide.
“You think it’ll start?” Harry asked.
“Since it looks like Jay had been using it recently, I hope to hell so. I don’t think my old ass can take the walk to your Milton Mouse World.”
“I can’t help it my parents never took me there. Did you ever take Trent?”
“We went a few times. Here, help me check the batteries.”
George and Harry lifted off the seat and George examined the batteries underneath.
“Look good?” Harry wondered.
“Well, there’s no corrosion or sign of damage. If the charge is good, we should be okay to get out of here.”
“Let’s do this!” Harry said. He jumped up in the air and George thought he was acting like a kid. He didn’t blame him; they needed to catch a break.
George sat behind the wheel and slowly turned the key. Harry sighed when the cart reminded silent. George turned the key a second time and the dash lights all came on and he heard the motor purr.
“Shall we?” George asked grinning.
“To the Mouse!” Harry said and pointed toward the interstate to Orlando.
The cart backed out of the shed and George maneuvered it through the high grass and onto the exit road. He pulled around the cars and trucks and sped, as fast as the little cart would go, to the interstate. When George merged onto I-4, two zombies shambled out of the mess of cars and ambled toward them. Harry flipped them a double-dose of middle fingers and laughed as they drove off to his childhood dream.
4
“I always wanted to come here as a kid…now look at it!” Harry shouted and raised his arms to the heavens. Like before, the silence was deafening.
“Will you shut your fuckin’ yap, Harry; you’ll bring every damn zombie in the place right to us,” George responded and shot Harry with an affectionate stare. Though in his early twenties, Harry acted like an innocent kid and George had taken a shine to him. Not that he showed it, but he liked the kid.
Harry and George stood atop the monorail track and tried to get a good lay of the land as darkness began to descend on central Florida. Since they had arrived at the Milton Mouse World theme park, the quiet had been disconcerting. The old train that once circled the park was reduced to a twisted burnt out husk blocking the entrance gates. Carbon from the fire that had burned through the train scarred the front walls, but, from their vantage point, nothing moved on the other side of the happy gates.
“We might find food in there,” Harry gleefully noted and began to descend from the monorail track.
George felt his stomach rumble in response to the word, ‘food’. Shaking his head, he slowly began his trip down the ladder. By the time his feet touched the ground again, he found Harry trying to scale the wrecked train.
“Come on George, I think it’s abandoned,” Harry said and stretched up to the train rail above his head. His hand slipped and he fell back onto the engine’s window. Along the window, jagged shards poked into his back but didn’t slice through his shirt.
“You all right Harry?” George asked.
Harry tilted his head back and laughed. “So, you do care!”
“Son of a bitch,” George mumbled back under his breath.
Harry sat up and swung his legs over the side. Carefully, he shimmied down the train and jumped back on the brick walkway. Both men scanned the area and didn’t see anything coming at them so they relaxed and approached the gateway. Through the bars, they saw napkins, cups, and other debris blowing around in the wind whipping through the park. The ticket booth door stood wide open and dark brownish smears and splatters covered the wall around the window. The breeze carried the distinct stench of death and decay.
“Looks like they were here,” Harry whispered. His demeanor turned more solemn and serious.
“Maybe they’ve already moved on. I’ve heard talk, in some camps, they are moving south.”
“What do you think? It sure smells like ‘em in there.”
“I think it’s too quiet, but maybe this place has already been cleared and their remains are what we smell. I ran into a guy headed west away from St. Augustine two weeks ago while on a supply run and he said a pack can appear out of nowhere and surprise ya’,” George answered. His eyes stayed glued on the “Main Street” themed area at the front of the park. Windows were shattered and the various souvenirs and trinkets were strewn about in the street like a riot had descended on the park. In the distance, they saw Milton Mouse’s Fairytale Castle.
In the left spire, a light burned.
“Holy shit George,” Harry gasped pointing.
“Mother fuck…let’s hurry and get through this mess before night falls and we’re left in the dark out here,” George said. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and began examining the outer perimeter wall.
Harry began to feel his way around the train trying to find a place they could use to scale the wall. The sun quickly descended in the west and he frantically felt through the twisted wreckage for a handhold. Sharp points and torn metal bit into his hand and he sensed something warm trickling down his forearms.
“Shit,” he muttered and silently prayed they were alone.
“Hey, Harry! Come here,” George called out from the edge of the gate area.
The sound in George’s voice made Harry cringe because he realized he’d bled for nothing. He hoped the smell wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention. Once he climbed down, he looked at his hand and saw a gash along his palm and a trail of crimson running along his arm.
“Get over here; I found a way in.”
Sure enough, after he cleared a row of bushes, he caught sight of George, standing there grinning, holding open a door that blended into the gateway area.
“You suck George, you know that?” Harry spat and pushed through the door and onto Main Street.
***
He watched them enter the park through the hidden door and he knew his kingdom had new guests. Sipping the warm water from his ceramic Milton Mouse mug, he smiled and set the binoculars back on the table beside the window.
“How I love it when new game pieces come for tea,” the man whispered and laughed.
Outside, the two small dots began their journey down Main Street and into the heart of the park.
***
Right off, the park’s silence unsettled George. Since his time in the military, he’d been in more scrapes and spilled more blood than any man ever should, but something in his gut didn’t feel right. Harry dashed up ahead of him and poked his head in the first broken window they came across.
“George! Check this shit out! There’s all kinds of candy all over the floor and lots of cool stuff,” Harry exclaimed.
George grunted and shook his head as Harry carefully climbed through the store front’s broken window.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered and approached the shop.
Inside, a loud cackling laugh echoed in the silent park. Glass shattered and George heard loud banging followed by sobs. George went to the door and gently pushed on the green door. Dried blood covered it and he drew his knife as he opened the door.
Harry lay sprawled out on the floor and he waved his arms and legs along the carpet like he was making a snow angel. Insects covered the rotted apples and candy from the broken gum drop jars. Molded bread and meats sat on the counter where the clerks and shopping families had left in a hurry from the store/deli.
“All this blood,” George whispered.
“Look at the candy George!” Harry yelled.
“Shut up,” George hissed.
“Okay, okay,” he answered and began to climb to his feet.
“Something isn’t right Harry. Look around at all the blood.” George pointed to rust colored smears along the wall and the dark splatters decorating the t-shirt rac
ks.
“Yeah, what about it?”
“There are no fucking bodies,” George said slowly.
Realization crept across Harry’s face and he gripped his gun tightly. His knuckles turned white and he tensed up.
“Welcome back to reality Harry,” George said.
“Sorry, it’s just…well, I got carried away. We’ve been on the road hiding and surviving for a bit together and being here with no zombies in sight brought out the kid in me.”
“Hey, don’t wor…”
A rolling ball from the other side of the store froze George in mid-sentence. Both men raised their guns and turned to the back. George motioned for Harry to drop and they lowered themselves below the clothes racks. Glass crunched and steps came closer and closer to them. Harry looked over at George and smiled.
What is that dumb son-of-a-bitch doing? He thought. His palms started perspiring and he tried to slow his breathing. His breath hitched and his eyes widened.
Closer the steps came and the ball rolled between the racks they hid behind. George could make out the walk as a zombie; a step on the toys, candy, and glass covering the floor followed by a dragging sound. He glanced over at Harry and he held his pistol up at the ready. Closer and closer the steps came; each step followed by the dragging sound. George closed his eyes and, silently, he prayed. He’d never been a religious man in his past life, but, after the incident with the twins in Bonita Springs, he found talking to someone therapeutic. Whether or not anyone was listening, he still didn’t know.
Finishing his prayer, he opened his eyes and found Harry all ready to pounce. Two more steps and the zombie sounded like it had stopped a few feet away from the clothes rack. George strained to hear better, but his heart kept slamming in his chest and he wondered if he was either having a heart attack or if the zombie could hear it.
Then he thought he heard it take a breath.
George shot up from behind the rack and pointed his shotgun where he had heard the zombie approach them. A small, wiry man quickly put his hands in the air and frantically waved them around.