by D.R. Johnson
~ ~ ~ ~
"The name's Walter. Ya can call me Walt, though. That's what they use ta call me before all this happened." He waved his hand through the air, encompassing everything.
"Ali," I said simply. I sheathed my knife but walked a few steps behind him. I was nervous, wary of Walt, not to mention all the freaks surrounding us. Walt had his back to me, completely unguarded. I followed him to a cluster of rundown houses. They looked like their better days had been far behind them even before the outbreak.
"Are you the only one out here?" I asked as it occurred to me he might be leading me into a trap. He chuckled.
"It's just me. Ain't seen a soul, immune or otherwise, in nigh on two years. Been a lonely place, it has." He stopped in front of a little lime green house. At least I thought it used to be lime green but the paint was wearing thin now, most of it flaked away. "I still got well water, thankfully. And the lights come on every now and then. How long ya been here?"
"A few months,” I replied, watching him stretch as he stood on the first porch step. Green eyes shone brightly under his bushy gray eyebrows, and he was quite thin, but otherwise looked healthy.
"Just passing through, eh?" he said as he sat down on the step and offered the only chair on his porch to me. "Have a seat if ya care to."
I nodded, but decided to stay standing. "Trust issues."
"Suit yourself," he grunted. "Like I said, ain't nobody here but me, and I ain't no one." He looked at me and offered a smile, his green eyes sparkling in the early afternoon sunlight. "Don't know about ya, but I got a hankerin' to talk. I don't get a lot of word from the outside."
I frowned. "Other people come through here?"
"Not so much. Can count 'em all on my hand." He held his hand up and watched his fingers wiggle, then heaved a sigh as he let it drop back to his lap. "Where were ya when everything hit?"
"Los Angeles, with my father,” I replied and Walt nodded.
"I was right here. Watched the red mist come down like rain early one Sunday morning. The Misses and me, we just watched it fall. No one knew what it was, but we figured it weren't good. Not with what was going on with Florida and the White House and whatnot. Happened so fast, it was on us in minutes." He stared off in the distance, and I could see the pain in his eyes along with a weary resignation.
"Everyone just fell where they stood, even me. There was a horrible fever on us, and I just knew it was the end. Then it passed. I was still here." He tapped his forehead with a thick finger. "And they weren't."
"I never heard anything about a red mist,” I said flatly.
He looked at me and scratched the whiskers on his chin. "Is that right? How did Los Angeles go down?"
I smirked wryly then. "The red mist?"
Walt chuckled at that. "Why don't you sit, girl. Figure we have a lot of information we can share."
I relented and made my way to the big lazy-boy that occupied most of the porch space. I shrugged inwardly and decided there was no harm in talking. I spoke softly, my voice warming up after going so long without use. "My mom lived in DC, but I had been spending Christmas with my father. We saw the reports of another face-eater in Florida, but we didn't pay much attention to it."
"Face-eaters, huh? I remember those," Walt said as he relaxed against the railing. It groaned at his weight, and I was surprised it didn't give way. "They blamed it on some new-fangled drug, didn't they?"
"Bath salts,” I said. "More reports popped up in Utah and Washington State. I read some of the eye-witness blogs online. Some of it was pretty scary, but I was a kid. I went right back to ignoring it. It all seemed so far away."
Walt grunted. "The Misses was all about that online web. I couldn't manage it myself. I just kept to the TV, but a whole hell of a lot of good that did me. They never gave us no warning until after Florida went silent."
Despite the warm weather I shivered as I thought back to that morning. We had gone to bed with everything as it should be and woke up the next morning to confusion and despair. The whole state of Florida had virtually disappeared. The cars and planes that went in never came back out. Calls weren't being answered or returned. Florida based internet sites were down as well as television and radio broadcasts. All communication was gone.
"I talked to my mom a lot those last few days,” I said solemnly. "She wanted me to come back home but dad wanted her out there so we could go to his cabin. Then DC was gone too."
My voice trailed off and Walt grunted again. "Sorry to hear that, kid."
I shook it off. Those of us left all lived with pain and loss. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and continued. "We never did find out what took out all the big cities. My dad and I, we left for the mountains when Japan went silent and stayed out there for maybe six months or so.
"We had a nutty neighbor who lived up there year round. He was one of those conspiracy theorists, but I guess he showed us all. He was ready for this to happen. He actually taught me and my dad a few things." I pointed at the truck sitting out by the tanks. "He taught us how to convert a diesel engine to run off vegetable oil."
"Is that right?" Walt said, peering out at my truck and chuckled. "Well, that sure beats all."
"Still have to fire it up with kerosene, though. I don't know how long that'll last until it all goes bad."
"What about getting one of those fancy sun-powered vehicles?"
"Maybe someday." I smiled at the teasing look Walt gave me, watching his fuzzy eyebrows wiggle. I was starting to feel more at ease.
"Anyway, about six months in, we finally saw our first freak,” I continued my story. "A small group of them wandered up onto the property, tried to kill the dogs or they tried to kill them. Our crazy neighbor took them out. No questions, he just fired. I don't think that set well with my dad. We left not long after that, looking for answers."
"And ya just found more of these assholes instead, eh?" Walt asked, but I didn't answer. I don't think he really expected one. It was obvious what we'd found.
He turned to me then, squinting one eye as he regarded me. "So how'd you come to be like ya are if you never saw the mist?"
He waited expectantly and I shrugged. "I was bitten."
"Bitten?" He seemed mildly surprised. I held out my right arm where the scar showed up clearly. He grunted in mild disbelief.
"A few years back, we were hiding out in an old school. I don't know why the freaks found us when they did, but we weren't prepared. Some of us died. My dad was still alive the last time I saw him."
Walt snorted at that. My eyes narrowed for a second, wondering if he was being judgmental of my father or the situation. I went on, regardless, "By then we knew bites spread the disease, so I stayed behind to hold them off. Didn't take long for the fever to hit me and they've ignored me ever since."
"I see,” he said while nodding in contemplation. "When these army boys came through here to try to take back the city," he gestured to the tanks. "One of them was immune too. He never mentioned anything about being bitten. I just figured that red mist had taken over the world."
I leaned forward, my curiosity growing at the mention of someone else being immune.
"Well, that army boy," Walt said, "His name was Michael. He was a good kid, but he didn't know much more about what was happening than I did. The stuff he would go on about, I didn't understand half of it. He blamed the military, the terrorists, all sorts of things to the point that I didn't know if he was telling truths or he'd gone all nutty." He tapped his temple with his middle finger.
Walt continued more slowly, his sentences full of long pauses. "He stayed with me maybe two years. Not much to say it was living. He finally put a bullet in his head couple years back. I buried him over yonder in that little field. He seemed to like it out there."
Walt heaved a heavy sigh when he was done speaking. I understood his pain more than I wanted to. We let the silence linger for a while.
"Care for some water?" Walt finally said, standing up. I shook my head no in answ
er, still somewhat untrusting. He disappeared into his house for a while before coming back out with some water and a pipe. I watched him pack it and wondered how long his supply would last.
He grinned at me, seeing the question on my face. "Ole tobacco shop 'round the corner just there. Figure I could live two more lifetimes before I run out. They got some expensive stuff there, stuff I couldn't afford before. I sure miss beer, though."
I chuckled at that. I never had the chance to drink beer but it sure would be nice to have a soda. At least I was able to brew some tea every now and then when the craving hit.
Moments after he lit the pipe, the sweet smell of tobacco hit me and for a while something in this awful world smelled good. The stifling smell of dust and dirt and unwashed bodies was covered up by the sweet aroma. I thought this might not be such a bad way to waste away the afternoons.
"Have you noticed any changes?" he asked me suddenly, breaking the serenity of the silence.
I looked at him questioningly. "Changes?"
"Mmmhmm," he replied, looking at me under those heavy gray brows. "We're infected as much as they are. We just changed for the better. Michael use ta say we changed the right way."
My skin crawled. My suspicions were being confirmed. I felt justified and disgusted all at the same time.
"I think I might be a bit stronger,” I finally said.
"Stronger, healthier and ya heal faster too now. Ya always had green eyes?" He asked and I nodded in answer. "I didn't. I was born with stone cold blue eyes. They look good on ya. All that red hair. Fittin'."
He took a long puff on his pipe, and I kept my silence. I remembered after I was first bitten, I had tried to convince myself I was naturally becoming stronger due to the exertion of my new lifestyle. I had been lying to myself. I didn't want to believe I was like the freaks. They were all slowly going bald, and I was worried all my hair was going to fall out too. I couldn't help but sneak a quick glance at Walter's thick graying locks. I figured we only shared some similarities with the diseased and was grateful that wasn't one of them.
"I was sick when the mist came," Walter said. "Dying actually. Emphysema had settled in pretty good. Never could shake this tobacco habit, and I was paying for it, certain as the sun rises. When Emma turned into one of those red-eyed... what ya call em? Freaks? Well, I was ready to embrace death. Didn't want to live without the Misses. God had another plan for me, though, and wasn't a week out from the mist when I was able to breathe again. The damnedest thing."
"Emma was your wife?" I asked gently.
"Yep. Fifty-three wonderful years, and five bad ones."
I was curious as to what he alluded to, but thought asking might be intruding. He'd been open with me so far, but I was thinking I didn't need to hear about the bad years of his marriage when a thought dawned on me. Walt was watching my face intently, and when he saw my eyes widen in shock, he shrugged his shoulders and looked almost sheepish.
"Ya ever have to put someone down that you loved?" his voice was stern, despite his guilty expression. I shook my head, the thought of Seth coming to the forefront of my mind. I could only stare at my hands folded in my lap, and it was my turn to look sheepish. "Takes a strong soul to live through that, and I ain't that strong."
His eyebrows came together as he stared down at the pipe in his hands for a few heartbeats before going on, driving the topic away from his confession. "There's another thing I've noticed. We don't really need a lot of food. Think I could live off one pot of beans for a whole week."
"Yeah," I replied to that. "Guess I've noticed that too."
"Ali," Walt started, a serious look coming into his eyes that captured my attention. "I'm old. I've lived here, I'll die here... eventually. But you're just a kid. There's others of us out there, ya just need to find 'em. I betcha there are other survivors out there living that aren't immune and still they're making it. I tried to tell Michael this, but he'd lost his will, and I could only talk him down for so long. Couldn't even blame the boy for putting that bullet in his head.
"You're strong, girl. I can see that in ya. Listen ta me. Michael may have been off his rocker, but he seemed ta think there was something going on in Vegas that might have been intact when this shit-storm started. Area 51 or some such."
"Aliens?" I interjected in my shock.
"No, dammit. Just listen." He snapped back in a grumpy grandfatherly way. "Michael talked a lot of bullshit, and it was hard ta dig through to find any sort of sense in what that man said, but I believe something must have happened there. You're headed west anyway, ya might want to make it a point ta stop by. Bound ta stumble onto something if ya keep looking hard enough. Ya do want to find something, dontcha?"
"I do,” I replied. I wanted to find something more than anything.
"Well, there ya go, then." He stated, matter-of-fact. "Now, ya still got quite a bit of daylight left, ya want a little supper for the road?"
"I'm stocked. I don't want to take any of your supplies."
"Nonsense, I got fresh meat that's gonna spoil soon." At his comment, my eyebrow shot up in surprise and I got a hearty chuckle out of him. He seemed quite proud of himself now. "Got me some squirrel the other day. Ever had squirrel stew?"
I laughed at that. I actually laughed. The sound was so strange in my ears. It had been so long since I'd been able to laugh. Walt kept talking, enjoying telling me about his hunting skills.
"I get me some squirrel and rabbit quite a bit. Raccoons every now and then too. Caught a skunk once, but you don't eat skunk. That shit is downright nasty."
My laughter continued until I saw the freaks taking notice of me. I quieted immediately and remembered why I didn't laugh anymore. Walt scowled and stood, walking towards them and yelling all the way.
"Y’all get out of here, ya mangy bastards! I ain't got nothin' here for ya!" To my surprise, they stopped their advance. He came stomping back and I shook my head in awe. It never entered my mind that the freaks could be controlled so easily.
"Alright Missy," Walt said as he started into the house. "Let's get ya some of that squirrel stew."
