by Tara Brown
Lee glances back at me, her eyes are filled with a knowing look. We both realize it instantly: the military base is clearly not a safe zone or this local woman would be there.
A loud hum starts up as the lights flicker and the pumps all begin making a clicking noise. I cover the hole in the ground as Lee jumps up and starts filling the van before the generator stops.
Erin squeals inside, clearly finding something akin to the Twinkie on Zombieland.
When I look back, Kyle is filling the lady’s car and some jerry cans for her.
The woman holds her child, both still visibly shaking. When her eyes meet mine, I smile, not sure what to do. “You from here?” she asks me, starting the small talk because our eyes accidentally met.
“No, we’re from everywhere. How long has it been since the island went?” I don't want small talk. I want my dad and to go home to my sister.
“Six days.” She sniffles. “We watched the news a week ago and saw all the footage but nothing was happening here. On our local channel they said they were taking the bridge out to prevent anyone bringing it on the island. We heard the naval base was a safe zone, but when we tried to go there, the lineup was insane. They checked everyone in the line. People started screaming and when I looked back, people were trying to hurt other people. I assumed a riot had broken out. I left the lineup and drove across a field. We went home and locked up the house, like my husband told me to.” She pauses, reliving something. Her eyes narrow as she continues, “Before things got bad, my husband called in a panic from Boston. Told me the city was going nuts and to batten down the hatches so I had some supplies. He said it was some kind of sickness. But when we got home, what we saw was people attacking other people in the streets. One of our neighbors bit the other one.” She kisses her daughter’s head. “We left the house today because we wanted to see if the base was really a safe zone. We saw some of them falling down, the biters, just dying on the spot. The ones in the yard were dropping like flies. We thought it might be safe but there’s still so many. I just wonder if anywhere is doing well.”
I wince, completely overloaded and not sure what to add to the epic tale. I like that she skipped the small crap and went straight for the answers I wanted.
Lee looks into the gas station and nods. “No. Me and my sister have driven from coast to coast and it’s bad everywhere. We thought the base was safe too. We came from Bangor.”
The woman sighs, looking defeated. She tucks her dark hair behind her ear and folds her arms over her child. “I don't know where we’ll go from here.”
“We’re going to check the base now, if you want to follow us,” Kyle offers as he puts the lids on the jerry cans. “You can ride with us if you want. If the base is going strong you’ll be safe, and if not, we can get you to the mainland.”
She shrugs and carries the jerry cans to the back of the car. “I guess we can try that but we’ll bring our own car.” Her eyes dart to her daughter.
Miles strolls out of the gas station with a tray of hot drinks. “Coffee anyone?”
Lee raises her hand. “I’ll take one of those.
He passes her one that seems specific. “Erin made yours.”
Lee cocks an eyebrow after the first sip. “It’s the frikkin’ z-apoc and she’s finally got my order right.”
“Oh, that's funny.” The lady stops crying and laughs. “I’ve been saying that for years. Z-apoc.”
I raise my eyebrows. “I always say Shaun of the Dead.”
“Yeah, you do.” Kyle snorts, shaking his head. I don't remember saying it in front of him but I guess I have.
The little girl nods. “My mom does say z-apoc, a lot. She makes me use hand sanitizer all the time when she says it.”
“I'm Gale, and this cheeky little thing is Melissa.” The lady points, earning a frown from the little brunette.
Lee grins wide, completely friendly and bold with strangers. “I'm Lee. This is Lou, and Kyle is your gas server today. Miles is the coffee boy and my sister, Erin, is the girl inside of the gas station dancing around like an idiot.”
Miles hands her a coffee and smiles. “Where were you headed?”
“Nowhere. I’m from here.” Gale frowns. “My husband was in Boston last time I spoke to him but he was headed back to California for work. I don't know if he made it out or if they canceled all flights. I heard rumors of quarantines. Like we may not be able to get out of certain states. I wasn't sure if I was leaving the island today or not.”
Miles shrugs. “We drove across. We never saw a single quarantine. I think it happened too fast. I don't think they stood a chance at moving as quickly as this sickness does. I don't think California is a good idea though. Oregon and Washington seem safer to me than Cali. Less populated.”
“Well, I need to find my husband.” Her voice sounds like she’s made up her mind. “I thought he’d try to come to us but then I realized maybe he can’t. Maybe the airports are shut down and he’s stuck somewhere. Maybe with the military somewhere.”
I want to tell her that no one is stuck anywhere. Anyone still walking around not desperate to bite their friends is able to go anywhere they want. The uninfected have inherited the entire world in the same way the infected have.
Kyle closes the trunk of her car and leans against it, folding his arms. “What time did everything start here on the West Coast? On the East is was mid-morning.”
Gale shakes her head. “No clue. Kevin called me at one in the morning to say he was boarding his flight to San Francisco. He said that flights were going to be canceled or delayed because of the sickness that was going around, so he was getting put on an earlier flight. He seemed scared that he might not be able to get home. He works as a brewery engineer. Right now he's working in California, but the owner of the brewery wanted him to see something in Boston.” She sips the coffee and sighs. “That's when I started watching the news anyway. It didn't sound so crazy here until much later in the day. Then the president gave that speech and I knew we were in some trouble. But the island never went crazy that first day. Not like it did everywhere else.”
“We need to shut that generator down. Biters are coming up the back alley.” Erin smiles as she saunters out of the gas station with heaps of food in her arms. She sounds like she doesn't have a care in the world.
Gale grabs her daughter’s hand and jumps in the car, closing the door.
Miles runs into the back and the hum and noise of the power is gone a moment later. Gale drives over, lowering her window slightly. “I know the way to the base, follow me.”
Kyle nods, getting in the driver’s seat as Lee and I jump in the back. Erin passes me a coffee with a smile. “You girls doing okay?”
Lee and I nod at exactly the same time. Seeing Gale has made us both seem a little less stressed. It’s weird but I swear seeing a mom makes me feel better.
When Miles comes running, my skin crawls but the biters behind him are still way back in the parking lot behind the gas station. He jumps in the front as Kyle starts it up and drives off after Gale.
She drives fast, maybe faster than I expected.
Chapter 12
The minivan smells like coffee. It’s relaxing in a regular way. I could easily be on my way to lacrosse right now. I could be in the back of Jamie’s mom’s van, sipping coffee and listening to her mom go on and on about how much trouble she suspects Miles is getting into. I close my eyes and let a hundred memories float by, all triggered by the smell of the coffee.
My dad in the early morning, making the coffee for him and my mom. The way he smelled like it when I hugged him. He always had a fresh shower smell mixed with a little coffee.
My mom going from bat-crap crazy to totally normal after the first sip of her morning coffee—every friggin’ day.
Jamie’s mom always stopping to get a coffee to drink while we played lacrosse, even though she had just finished a coffee.
Sasha’s dad sipping loudly, almost angry-like, as he lectured us on the philosop
hy of no pain, no gain and how we had better win this game. I could always hear him screaming from the sidelines. “PUSH, LOU! YOU CAN DO ANYTHING FOR TEN SECONDS! YOU CAN DO ANYTHING!” He believed that, and because of it, I did too. I still believe in myself and I think I have him to thank for that. I believed I could do anything. I still do, deep down.
Except win the heart of an older boy who still has never seen me, not the right way. And with the world ending a little more each day, my odds of him seeing me aren’t getting better.
Accepting the world the way it is now means I finally realize he and I aren’t going to go to the same college. I’m not going to be the freshman on campus in Boston. I’m not going to see him and surprise him by how much worldlier I’ve become after spending the summer backpacking Europe with Sasha. I am stuck here, friend zoned for life because, technically, I’m little-sister zoned which is unshakable.
As far as fates go, it isn’t the worst. It isn’t impossible to be his friend. I have already done it for a very long time. I force my brain to picture Erin and agree she is good enough for him. She’s a good person. She’s crazy—the way she shot Danny Hillman was insane but she did it for all the right reasons.
The van slows, making me open my eyes as the images of people I miss recedes like a fog moving away from me. Minus Danny Hillman. I don't miss him at all. A small part of me wishes I’d shot him in the head—very small.
“This must be it.” Miles doesn't sound convinced. When I look around I’m not either. It doesn't look so top secret or protected. It looks like a regular base: open at the front with two long driveways leading up to a large gatehouse. The fence is high and intact, as far as I can see. The gatehouse is as well, meaning you cannot get into the base from here unless they open the gates.
But between us and the gate is a messy lineup of cars and trucks clogging the front entrance. A lot of the vehicles look burned out like someone shot at them or blew them up. That's a good sign.
Gale pauses and then drives off, leading us past the entrance. She must know of another way in.
She drives into a park, stopping in a parking lot that's surrounded by huge trees and lowers her window. When we stop next to her, she speaks softly so I can only hear Kyle’s responses.
“How far?” he asks. She answers in a muffled stream of soft words.
Miles looks back at us. “Yeah, we’re good. We can handle that. She’s a beast runner.”
I don't know what’s happening but I can see the look on Miles’ face and I know it’s not a comforting expression. He’s worried.
They turn the vehicles off and Kyle looks at me in the rearview. “Just how fast are you in cross country?”
I gulp but Miles answers. “She’s fast. I can’t catch her.”
Kyle nods. “Then you and me are going for a run.” He winks like it’s a fun run and not the life threatening one I assume it is.
He climbs out, leaning into the lady’s window. When I get out she closes the window and nods at me. I don't know what the hell is happening but Lee climbs out, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. “I’m coming. You don't know what my dad looks like. If he’s in there, then you won’t know it’s him.”
Kyle looks like he might argue but Lee shakes her head. “I run track and cross country.”
“It’s your funeral.”
I scowl at him. “It might be all our funerals. What’s going on?”
He bites his lip for a second before answering, “She says this trail leads to the side of the base. If there is a way into the base, this is it. If anyone is alive in there, we’ll see from the trail. There should be mad amounts of guards too. She thinks maybe they abandoned the gatehouse and entrance because of the biters but are safe inside maybe.”
“How long of a run?”
“Five minutes but the distance isn’t the problem, it’s the biters. We don't know if we’ll come across any or not. So sprinting is important.” He gives me a grim look. “But I think we can be there and back in record time.”
I glance down at my boots and wish I’d worn my runners. I stuff my gun in the back of my pants, the same way Lee does. I hope we both don't shoot our asses off. Greeting my father with a bleeding butt cheek would not make either of us very excited.
Kyle takes off right away, jogging into the woods. Lee and I both give each other the same uncertain expression but we follow him. The first minute or so is a bit painful. My body is aching from the car ride and I’m exhausted in a way I haven’t been in ages.
Everything is cramping and until my lungs expand I can’t get air. But when they do, my stride lengthens and my legs relax into the run. It starts as a jog but the three of us feed off of each other, speeding up. For me it’s the insane desire to not be last. Dad always joked that whoever was last was the one the bear ate.
Kyle is a natural runner. His form is perfect and his stride is long. He doesn’t seem to tire, which I think is weird. He isn’t at all what I expected the Kyle Severson to be like. When Jamie talked about him before, she mentioned what a bad influence he was on Miles and how his rich bad-boy antics got them both in trouble. I have yet to see that side of him. I sort of hope I don't ever see that side of him. I like the side I’ve seen thus far, and I can see why Miles likes him so much. His cocky side can be annoying, but I don't know a single boy who isn’t a little cocky. It's Miles’ worst trait.
The path clears when I think we’ve been running for about ten minutes. It opens to the sea, the Pacific Ocean. The fencing along the base is intact but I don't see a single guard, and the hum of the electric fencing isn’t there. We run along the fence looking in. Nothing moves amongst the buildings or parked vehicles.
It’s silent and still on the other side of the fence.
“Damn,” Lee mutters, huffing her breath. “There’s no one here. Oh my God, we came all this way and they’re not here.” Her voice cracks but Kyle shakes his head, scanning fiercely. “We don't know that yet. Let’s keep looking.”
I can’t give up as easily as that. My dad could be here—they might just be hiding in a building or underground. Or maybe even on a ship.
We run to the edge of the water, looking up at the fence with the razor wire at the top. Kyle pulls off his jacket and climbs the fence, draping it over the razor wire. He drops down on the other side. Lee follows, making my stomach ache at being the last one on this side. She’s not half way when I start climbing. As she drops down and steps aside so do I. My feet burn from the lack of shock absorption my boots have, and my insides tingle from the fear of sneaking onto a naval base. It’s an offense like no other. We could be taken into custody as terrorists or worse.
Sneaking into anything ARMY is a poor life choice. But the serious lack of guards tells me that we might be okay as far as being shot on the spot goes. Regardless of seeing nothing but buildings and military vehicles, we stay low and sprint, using the buildings as cover.
We round a large building with huge bay doors—something I assume is a vehicle storage place or mechanical building. As we creep alongside the metal wall of it, I hear something from inside. As my head jerks toward the noise, Lee and Kyle look the opposite way.
“Shit.”
I turn to see people between buildings. Their military fatigues should be a comfort, but the sudden notice they aren’t actually walking, sinks every bit of hope I have inside of me. They are frozen, mid-stride even. Shivers tickle my arms and back as I realize I have left my sister and her little friends and come here for nothing. The base has biters. The base has been taken and we won’t find my father here. Not alive. If he is here he’s one of them.
I shake my head, not in emotion but in defiance. No. My father is not one of them. He’s alive, I know it.
He has to be.
This has to end at some point. It has to go back to normal. Seeing the base in the realistic state it’s currently in, I realize it’ll be a new normal, but it has to go back. We have to take back the world.
I’m tired and hungry.
I think there is a question burning on all our lips. Our poor chapped lips coated with saliva from the nervous licking and the dehydration that comes with constant running and not remembering to eat or drink. The question is, how long does someone with CJD live? How long will they be this way? How long do we have to suffer with what everyone else has become? How long will the world sit, frozen, with a few of us scrambling around, trying to survive silently?
The constant need to be quiet is maddening, and I can feel the end of my sanity lingering in the stillness around me—in the wind that whistles, mocking us with her noise.
Not that it matters, because the cold hard facts are that silence is survival now.
Standing on this base, I know it. Silence is survival and that is all that's left in the world.
I know so few things. I know some things and have to hope for others. I know in my heart, my father is still not infected. He has to be okay because I need that. Part of it is hope. Hope that I convince myself is knowledge. But tricking yourself is harder than it seems. Especially when living so close to the edge, so close to alone.
Standing there in the cool wind coming off the ocean, my hope diminishes considerably as the things I know start to become more pronounced than the hope I’ve created.
I know my mother is dead.
I know technology is useless so the distance between my sister and me is now set by days and not moments. Cell phones haven’t worked in what feels like a lifetime.
I know that everything is harder now. Even just the simple act of pumping gas has nightmare possibilities. When we ran out of gas in the car we stole yesterday, we pumped from the hole in the ground with guns pointed in every direction, just in case. I held my gun in my hand and knew if someone had come, I would have had to shoot them. It’s like Mr. Milson says, kill or be killed.
