by Kody Boye
Given that the windows had been mostly covered by blankets, Dakota could only see what was directly in front of him and what little of the driver’s side window Jamie’s stocky form didn’t block. Here, the roads were clear—likely, Dakota imagined, because there had been planned evacuations shortly after the news that New York had fallen. Either way, it made for smoother traveling, and allowed them to breeze effortlessly through the small town as they made their way toward Wyoming.
Hours passed, signs changed, they passed through one state and entered another.
Come time noon rolled around, they pulled over at a rest stop and prepared lunch on the side of the road.
“We’re making good time,” Steve said as he shoveled canned peaches into his mouth. “We’d’ve never been able to do this without you, Rose.”
“Well,” she said. “I thought about trying to cut through Canada, but… I didn’t think that was a good idea.”
“Weather?” Desmond frowned.
“More like the border,” Rose replied. “I have no idea if Canada has even fallen, or if they’re still guarding the border. When it first hit the UK, Ireland was shooting people that were trying to land on their shores. It was ridiculous.”
“Didn’t want a potential repeat of what happened at sea,” Jamie nodded. “That’s understandable.”
“I figured I’d end up somewhere eventually,” Rose said. “It just turned out to be Idaho.”
With a nod, Jamie finished shoving his food in his mouth, kicked his can aside, and stood. “We should probably get going,” he said. “I don’t like the idea of staying in one place for too long.”
“Could we try and find somewhere decent to sleep tonight?” Desmond asked. “It’s so cramped in the back seat.”
“I’ll trade spaces with you tonight,” Dakota said. “That is, if we don’t find somewhere else to stay.”
“I honestly don’t think we should leave the vehicle,” Rose said. “What if someone tries to break in?”
“We haven’t seen a single person the whole time we’ve been driving.”
“Yeah, but there’s a first time for everything.”
Dakota sighed and braced a hand against his forehead, already dreading the hours that would take them through Wyoming and then eventually into Nebraska.
Right about now, he’d wished they’d found a second vehicle.
Oh well, he thought.
At least they were safe.
*
They pulled over at a bed and breakfast that night and transferred the supplies from the top of the vehicle to the interior before they locked it up and went inside. Barricading the B&B took only moments, as with only one entrance they were able to simply lock and bar the door with a long couch that lay in the front office. By the time they were finished, they had a total of three beds and a couch to themselves.
“I’ll sleep on the couch for the first watch,” Rose said as they continued to survey the property, taking care to curtain the windows and block off whatever they could with the extra furniture.
“You’re sure?” Jamie asked.
Rose nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s better if we have someone out front anyway. You know, in case something happens.”
“You can always let me take first watch,” Steve offered.
“Yeah, but I’d rather have a couch to myself for the time being, if that’s all right.”
Nodding, Steve slung an arm around Desmond’s shoulders and pulled the younger man close. Kevin’s two children—who appeared ready to collapse from the way they were hanging their shoulders—sauntered into the downstairs bedroom without so much as a goodnight.
Night was quickly beginning to descend upon them, turning the sun a blood orange and the evening sky shades of pink and pale blue. They were all worn out, but no one as much a Rose—who, having risen first thing that morning, felt more than ready to collapse.
“Go ahead and start eating,” Rose said as she spread out along the expansive couch that was barricading the door. “I’ll just… lay down and…” She yawned. “Rest for a moment.”
She was out the moment she closed her eyes.
She was woken by the sound of the doorknob turning above her head.
At first believing she was dreaming, she simply lay there—staring, blankly, at the fixture above her, watching as it twisted and turned yet to no avail. Her body felt like it was on a collection of pins and needles as she waited in anticipation for something to happen—for someone to ram the door, for someone to speak, for someone to withdraw a master key from somewhere within their pocket and unlock the door to force their way inside.
Just, she thought, swallowing, be very, very quiet.
The gun on the floor felt so far away at that moment—as if she, Earthbound, were fruitlessly extending her hand to the distant moon. She would never reach it, of course, but she could always try.
But what would happen if she fell? If who—or what—ever was outside heard her?
She decided to remain still and waited until the doorknob stopped turning before she expelled a very slow and quiet sigh.
Just when she thought it was over, a knock came at the door.
“Hello?” a man’s voice asked. “Is anyone in there?”
Don’t respond, her consciousness chided her. Whatever you do, don’t you—
“I’m so tired,” the man said, “and just want somewhere to sleep for the night. I see your car. I see the stuff you have inside it. If you’d just let me in, I’ll leave everyone al—”
A shriek cut the man off before he could finish.
A startled cry sounded before the rap of footsteps entered Rose’s ears.
Zombies, she thought, this time rolling onto her stomach and reaching for the gun.
When her fingers locked around its metal surface, she brought it up to her side and closed her eyes as she waited for the sounds of the undead and the panting man to flee.
One moment passed, then two.
A zombie shrieked just outside the doorway.
Through the blinds she caught sight of it giving chase—decayed near the point of falling apart, its sturdy limbs the only thing that was keeping its mostly-deteriorated upper body intact.
Rose closed her eyes and forced them shut as tightly as possible.
When the scream came—likely as a result of the man’s stupidity or his unfortunate luck—Rose sighed and tightened her hold on the gun.
She knew she’d one the right thing.
If she’d’ve opened the door—if she’d’ve tried to let that man in—then surely she and he and maybe even the rest of them would be—
No.
She couldn’t think about that.
She’d done the right thing.
Your brothers before strangers, she thought, nodding.
With one last look at the curtained windows around her, Rose tried her best to relax her body and close her eyes.
Regardless, she couldn’t.
When Steve appeared at the threshold leading to the second floor, Rose merely shook her head and pressed a single finger to her lips.
Whether the man had heard the screams or had witnessed the carnage that had taken place from the second floor she couldn’t know. Either way, Steve didn’t dwell on it. He simply nodded, gave her a simple thumbs-up, then turned and made his way back up the stairs.
This time when Rose closed her eyes, she thought she would be able to fall asleep.
She wasn’t alone in this.
She had friends watching her back.
*
“You did the right thing,” Jamie said the following morning, “in not letting that man in.”
“I know,” Rose sighed from the passenger seat. “It just… sucks, you know? Knowing that your actions are what led to someone’s death.”
“If he was making enough noise to wake you up,” Dakota said, “you can’t really blame yourself for his death. It’s his own fault for making enough noise to attract the zombies.”
�
�Yeah, but that little voice in the back of my head keeps telling me I could’ve done something.”
“But at what cost?”
Rose nodded. “That’s the thing,” she said. “I don’t know.”
They fell into silence as they continued to trek across Nebraska, toward the place that spelled Hope and everything it could possibly offer. Their stomachs full from breakfast, their bodies fresh from a good night’s sleep, they navigated the coagulated streets of traffic with ease Dakota thought chilling considering how much debris was everywhere. Though he hadn’t happened to catch the name of the town upon their initial entry, it was obvious this had been the site of a massive battle. Everything—from the broken glass in business windows, to burned-out husks of vehicles, to trash, litter, broken fire hydrants and more—spoke of that.
“We were lucky,” Dakota said, “that we had enough supplies to last us through the worst of the violence.”
“We were able to just ride it out,” Steve agreed, reaching over to set a hand upon his shoulder. “I’m surprised we’re even still alive at this point, considering everything we’ve gone through.”
“That first month in South Dakota,” Dakota said, “those next few weeks in the insane asylum.”
“The time we spent in Minnesota.”
“Then Idaho.”
“It’s been six months since it’s happened,” Rose said, “but every day feels like it was just yesterday.”
“You really think we’ll be safe at Fort Hope?” a voice asked from the backseat.
Dakota turned to look at Arnold—who, along with his brother Mark and Desmond, looked past them at Rose.
“Yeah,” Rose said after a moment’s hesitation. “I would’ve stayed, but… well… I had to leave. For the sake of others.”
“And you never thought of going back until just now?” Mark asked.
“I’ve wanted to go back since the moment I left,” Rose sighed. “I don’t know why I didn’t. I just… well… thought it was worthless, going back after I’d already decided that I was going to leave. I thought I’d be seen as a coward.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a coward,” Kevin sighed. “Not in today’s day and age.”
“No,” Rose replied. “There isn’t.”
Dakota reached forward and pressed a hand against the back of her seat.
When the woman turned and looked at the road in front of them, a smile lit her face.
Dakota knew it was because, after all this time, she was finally going back.
Chapter 12
The next few days passed by uneventfully, with them passing through Iowa, Ohio, Pennsylvania and then New York. They stayed away from the site of the city—which, Jamie said, was ripe with nuclear radiation and would likely kill them even after so many months of it laying stagnant—and by the time they reached Connecticut two days later, each of them was about ready to collapse.
It’s almost over, Dakota thought as he looked down at the map in front of him. Rhode Island.
“It should be coming up within the next few hours,” Rose said from her place in the driver’s seat, turning her attention on Dakota when he lifted his eyes to view the progress before them. “What we’ll want to do once we get close enough it get out, pack up as much of the supplies as we can, and make our way onto the first of the two islands on foot.”
“On foot?” Kevin asked.
Rose sighed and nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get there any other way. This is if we’re able to make it through that area before Newport. Otherwise we might have to figure out another way around.”
“You’d mentioned that the governor had blown bridges to certain sections,” Jamie said from the backseat. “Does that mean they have access to helicopters? And is there any way we could just write an SOS on top of a roof or try to communicate with them over the radio?”
“Possibly,” Rose said. “You still have batteries for the walkie-talkies, right?”
“I do. Somewhere.”
“Good. We might need to hail a rescue team if we’re unable to get across. The only other option would be to go by boat, and even then I don’t think we’d be lucky enough to find one.”
Probably not, Dakota thought, but kept silent rather than speak his mind.
He looked down at the map before them and tried to determine just how long it would take them to get there.
By his estimations, it would be little less than an hour before they arrived on the outskirts of Rhode Island.
When that happened… who knew what would come next.
They pulled over at the edge of what would have once been an ordinary road had it not been decimated by the use of heavy weaponry. Metal lay scattered everywhere, bits of road in the shallow waters below. What few cars happened to be in the area were completely decimated—shredded, in part, by bulletholes, or completely blown to pieces by the bombs that had been used to blow this section of the bridge to bits. Some blood and desecrated body parts also lay about—which, Dakota thought, made the scene even more grisly.
“Rose to Fort Hope,” Rose said behind them. “Rose to Fort Hope, come in. Rose to Fort Hope, over.”
Static responded to her cry for help.
“Keep trying,” Jamie said. “The signal is probably weak.”
“I don’t think it’s the signal that’s weak,” Rose replied, sighing. “I just think these walkie talkies are pieces of shit.”
“They worked fine when we made our way to Boise.”
“Yeah, but how close were we when we started communicating with them?”
“Pretty close,” Steve offered, which did little to ease Jamie’s obvious distress.
Sighing, Jamie cupped the back of his skull in his palms and looked out at the ever-extending plain of water before them, his eyes lost in the sights of the sea and everything it had to offer. Dakota imagined they’d be able to fish, if they had the tools necessary to pull meat from the water, but he didn’t bother to dwell on that. Right now, all he was concerned about was getting in contact with someone at the fort—and, hopefully, getting a rescue helicopter to fly them in.
I really don’t want to have to walk, he thought, looking at the city beyond.
How they would cross this section of terrain he wasn’t sure. They’d likely have to circumnavigate the land and make their way to the fort from the other side—a task that, while not completely impossible, would add unnecessary time and danger to their trip.
“Rose to Fort Hope,” Rose said. “Come in. Over.”
“This is Fort Hope,” a voice replied. “Come in. Over.”
“My name is Rose Daniels,” Rose replied, looking up at the group as they drew near. “I’m one of many survivors who are looking to evacuate to the Newport Fort Hope location. Is there any way you can come and get us, over?”
“Where are you? Over.”
Rose lifted the map and detailed their location by the street and the bridge that used to exist before them.
“You’re a ways off,” the man replied, “but I don’t see why we wouldn’t be able to get out to you. Over.”
“Thank God,” Rose breathed. “Over.”
“Problem is,” the radioman replied, “we weren’t planning on lifting our helicopters up anytime soon. How many are you? Over.”
“There’s eight,” Rose said. “Over.”
“Eight,” the man said. “Eight, eight, eight.” The line went dead for several long moments before it came back to life and said, “Miss Daniels? Are you there. Over?”
“I’m here,” Rose replied. “Over.”
“We’ll be sending a helicopter out to you shortly. Please be advised that it may take half an hour to reach you.”
“Thank you,” Rose replied. “Over and out.”
The woman collapsed to the ground and began to weep.
Dakota, unsure what to do, simply smiled.
They were about to be rescued.
Soon, this entire thing would be over.
/> The sound of rotors cut through the silence of the afternoon as the helicopter appeared on the horizon—bringing with it the sound of not only hope, but attention from the nearby zombie population.
“You think we’re going to have to deal with them?” Rose asked as she looked down the hill and at the group that was slowly amassing before them.
“Not if I can help it,” Jamie said.
He raised his automatic rifle and trained it on the creatures as the helicopter neared.
Soon, the sound was deafening.
Nothing could be heard—not even the sound of the men on board the helicopter shouting to the group below.
Dakota raised his hand to shield his eyes from the gust of air as the airborne vehicle navigated its way toward them.
A rifle discharged.
Dakota jumped.
Steve raised his pistol and fired at a runner as it scaled the side of the opposite hill and ran toward them. It clipped its shoulder, stunned it briefly, then caused it to flail to the side before a louder, sharper sound barked through the noise and sent the creature falling to the ground.
“COME ON!” a woman’s voice said through the sheer hell of the moment.
“Go go go!” Dakota cried, gesturing Kevin and his sons to run to the helicopter. He drew his pistol to cover them as yet another zombie appeared from the nearby hill.
“We gotta go!” Rose cried. “NOW!”
As the helicopter began to touch down, disrupting those remaining items and encroaching grass on the ground and causing the hair on top of everyone’s heads to dance about in every direction, Dakota drew alongside his companions and began to make his way toward the helicopter—firing, occasionally, at the zombies that appeared from the nearby hillsides and began to make their way toward them. Most prevalent were the runners—vicious in their intents and quick as hell on their feet. Jamie was able to stop most of them, but some were able to avoid the army man’s shots and vaulted up the hill.
A corpse neared.
Someone screamed.
Dakota looked to his side as Kevin slammed the end of a bat into the creature’s face.
