“I know, and we feel the same. We’ve become a family, weird as it might seem, but this is important, Dylan.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I thought we’d discussed this. I’m staying with you,” Dylan said, turning to face him.
“That was before we learned the zombies are a bigger threat than we ever imagined. Think about it. This isn’t like the movies where they rot away, becoming slow and useless. They’re here to stay.”
“I know that. I’m not stupid,” Dylan replied, an angry blush staining her cheeks. “But I don’t give a crap about any of that. My place is here, with you and Amy. I can help you to protect her. She deserves a chance to grow up.”
“That’s exactly why you should go. If Tara succeeds in her mission, Amy will have a future. A real future,” Alex argued. “I can’t help them, but you can.”
“This is bullshit!”
“No, it’s not. Think about it for a second,” Alex insisted. “I don’t want Amy to spend the rest of her life hiding. You’ve got a chance to change that. You, Tara, and Saul.”
Dylan looked away. “What if something happens to you while I’m gone? I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”
“Nothing will happen, I promise. We’ll be safe here. There’s plenty of food, water, and guns. All we need to do is lie low and wait it out.”
“Wait for what? The cure? The vaccine? It’s a fairy tale, Alex. It’ll never happen. Even if Fort Detrick is still running, it won’t be for long. You saw what happened at Fort Knox. You were there for God’s sake.”
“I saw, but I still think it’s worth the risk.”
“And if Fort Detrick is gone?” Dylan asked. “What then?”
“If Fort Detrick is zombie food, at least you’ll know you tried, and you can always come back here.”
“And what if it isn’t gone? You can’t stay here forever. You’ll run out of stuff sooner or later.”
Alex smiled. “Then I expect you to bring back the cavalry and escort us to our new home.”
Dylan snorted. “Yeah right. You’re so full of shit. You’d deserve it if I left you here to rot, you know?”
His smile broadened. “Luckily, “I’ve got Amy. You might leave me here, but you won’t abandon her.”
Dylan punched him on the shoulder. “You’ve got that right!”
“Is that a yes then? Will you go with Tara and Saul?”
Dylan hesitated for a couple of seconds before nodding curtly. “Fine, I’ll go, but I’m not happy about it, and you’ll have to break the news to Amy.”
Alex winced. “Ouch. You drive a hard bargain.”
She shrugged. “You asked for it.”
“I’ll talk to her now, and I promised to help Saul load the Humvee,” Alex said, turning toward the house.
“Off you go. I’ll stand guard for a while,” Dylan said, turning away to face the night.
Alex paused for a moment, gathering the courage to face Amy. He did not look forward to breaking the news. She was crazy over Dylan and would take it hard. Still, he believed it was the right thing to do — the only thing to do. Sucking in a deep breath, he stepped inside. “Here goes nothing.”
Chapter 9 - Dylan
Dylan rubbed her hands together before tucking them underneath her armpits. The temperature was dropping by the second, and the night promised to be a bitter one. She tried looking through the binoculars but gave up. It wasn’t like she could see anything. It negated the purpose of standing guard, and she was about to go back into the house. I might as well get some rest while I can. Who knows what’s going to happen tomorrow?
Then the door opened, and Tara stepped outside. “Dylan? Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Of course,” Dylan said, turning to face her.
“I just wanted to thank you for changing your mind.”
Dylan huffed. “I didn’t.”
Tara frowned. “But, Alex said you were coming with us tomorrow.”
“I am, but not because I want to. Alex forced me. Practically blackmailed me with talk of Amy’s future, and all that.”
“I see,” Tara said. “Nevertheless, I’m grateful.”
“Look, I get what you’re trying to do. It’s admirable, and I get why you’re doing it too. You feel guilty about not stopping the virus earlier. But I’m not one for grand gestures. For me, it’s all about survival. Making it from one day to the next.”
“Why is that?” Tara asked.
“Because no one ever looked out for me. The world that you’re trying to save wasn’t so great for everybody. Not that I want flesh-eating corpses to take over, but what we lost isn’t such a big deal.”
“You’re right. The old world wasn’t perfect, but nothing is. Maybe this is our chance to start over. Maybe this time, we can do a better job. Once the zombies are gone, it’s a clean slate for humanity.”
Dylan shrugged. “Maybe. All I know is that Amy deserves a better life, and that’s why I’m going with you. I’ll do for her what nobody did for me.”
“By leaving me?” Amy cried, appearing out of nowhere. “Is that how you’re looking out for me?”
Dylan jumped. “Jeez, don’t do that. You scared the shit out of me.”
“Like I even care!”
“Shush, keep your voice down. Do you want to draw every damn zombie in the area?” Dylan said in a hushed tone of voice.
Amy shot Dylan a mutinous glare, while Tara looked from the one to the other. “Uh, I’ll just…go.”
She ducked inside the house, and Dylan was left facing a furious Amy. “Amy, I—”
“You said you’d stay. You said we were family. You lied.”
“I didn’t lie. You are family to me,” Dylan said. “I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone before.” Even Frankie.
“Really? All those hours we spent in the hospital…it was all for nothing, wasn’t it?” Amy cried. “You couldn’t wait to leave us.”
Dylan’s heart twisted in her chest. “I don’t want to leave you, sweetie. I want to stay.”
“Then prove it. Stay.” Amy’s hands were balled into fists by her side, and tears glinted in her eyes.
“I can’t. Tara and Saul need my help. This mission is important. You know that. Please, try to understand,” Dylan pleaded.
“Save it for someone who cares,” Amy said. “Because I sure don’t. I hate you!”
“Amy, please listen.”
Amy whirled around and ran into the house while Dylan stood frozen to the spot, stricken. She swallowed hard on the knot in her throat. Never had she felt so lost. “I’m doing this for you.”
After a while, she went back into the house. Saul and Alex were loading the last supplies into the Humvee while Tara made more coffee. Amy was nowhere to be seen.
“How did it go?” Tara asked, handing Dylan a hot cup of coffee.
“How do you think?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well. I don’t blame her,” Dylan said.
“I suppose you can’t. Especially not in these circumstances,” Tara said.
Alex trooped inside, wiping his hands on his trousers. “That’s the last of it. We’ll grab the rest tomorrow.”
“You’d better go talk to Amy. She’s distraught, and nothing I say is going to help,” Dylan answered.
“I’ll try. She didn’t take the news very well.”
“No kidding,” Dylan said in dry tones as Alex went off in search of his sister.
“You should gather your stuff,” Saul said. “Here’s an empty backpack. Take what you need. There are weapons in the basement. All I ask is that you don’t pick a gun you can’t use.”
“I can use most handguns, but I’m not that familiar with rifles,” Dylan replied.
“Maybe stay away from the grenades too,” he said with a faint smile.
“Uh, I’ll do that.” Dylan took the backpack and picked through the supplies in the house, gathering the basics. Toiletries, extra clothes, emergency food,
and water if should she get separated from the others, a flashlight, batteries, matches, and a multipurpose pocket knife. She also picked out a long, warm coat to wear over her clothes, a woolen scarf, gloves, and a beanie. Winter was here, and she had no desire to freeze to death. Not with her skinny ass.
She left the weapons for last, excited to see what there was. The rack of guns and other stuff exceeded her wildest imaginings, and her fingers itched to load up. “Mm, what will it be?”
It took forever, but she finally made her selection: A brand new machete with a solid handle and razor-sharp edge was first. It came with a matching sheath, and she slid it onto her belt with a grin, dumping the old one without hesitation. “Sorry, lucky machete, but superior craftsmanship wins out every single time.”
She chose a Glock 17 for her primary weapon. It was the gun she felt most comfortable with, and she knew she could handle it. To her delight, she also found a shoulder holster that fit well and could carry four spare magazines on the opposite side. That significantly increased her firepower, and she wasted no time claiming it for herself. She also slid a knife onto her belt. It was a useful tool to have in any situation.
“Woohoo! Watch out, zombies. Apocalypse Jane is in the house!” she said as she experimented with the holster, pulling her Glock out and pointing it at imaginary foes.
For her final weapon, she chose one of Saul’s custom-made spears. The long pole gave her reach and would allow her to pick off zombies at a distance. Plus, the pointed end was perfect for piercing eyeballs and jamming up into the skull through the bottom jaw.
Clearing a space around her, Dylan whirled the spear between her fingers. She’d been a drum majorette in school and had spent hours with a baton in her hands. At first, she felt clumsy, but her muscles soon remembered the routines. After half an hour’s light practice, she was able to wield the pole with a measure of ease.
Satisfied with her selection, she exited the basement. The house was dark and silent. It appeared everyone had gone to bed without her. With a gas lamp in one hand, Dylan tramped upstairs to her bedroom to get some rest.
For a moment, she paused in front of Amy’s room, her knuckles hovering above the door. She longed to talk to the girl and make peace.
Finally, Dylan shook her head and dropped her hand. Now was not the time. “Tomorrow is another day.”
She fell into bed with an exhausted groan, out like a light the moment her head hit the pillow. She slept like the dead, and when Alex hammered on her door the next morning, she was convinced he’d gone nuts. “Are you crazy? It’s the middle of the night!”
“Wrong! It’s six in the morning. Saul wants to get going, lazy bones,” Alex said with a wide grin.
Dylan cocked an eyebrow at him. “Seriously? Six in the morning?”
“That’s right. Rise and shine, folks!”
Her head fell back with a muttered curse. “Fine, I’m coming, but there had better be coffee. I am not a morning person.”
After a cold shower, Dylan got dressed and packed her stuff. In the kitchen, Tara had whipped up a quick breakfast of canned fruit, mixed nuts, and biscuits with coffee. Amy sat at the table, her head hanging low with a half-eaten cookie on a plate.
Dylan approached the girl with caution, her hand extended as a peace offering. “Amy? Are you okay?” Amy’s head jerked around, and Dylan winced to see her puffy, swollen eyes. “Oh, sweetie. Have you been crying all night? Please, don’t cry. I couldn’t bear it.”
“I can’t help it. You’re leaving,” Amy said as more tears welled up.
Dylan opened her arms. “Come here, sweetheart.”
Amy flung herself into Dylan’s embrace and clung to her like a monkey while she sobbed. “Please, don’t go.”
“I have to, sweetie. You know that. But I’ll be back soon, I promise. It’ll be a few days at most,” Dylan said as she stroked Amy’s hair with one soothing hand.
“How can you say that? You don’t know for sure,” Amy said. She pulled back and wiped her tears away with an angry fist.
Dylan gripped her shoulder. “I do know it. I’m going to Fort Detrick with Tara and Saul; then I’m coming right back. That’s a promise, and I never break a promise.”
Amy swallowed a hiccup and sniffed. “You mean that?”
“I do. I’ll come back as soon as I can, come hell or high water,” Dylan said, putting one palm over her heart in a silent vow.
Amy nodded. “I still don’t like it, but I guess I’ve got no choice.”
Dylan sighed. “None of us do, sweetie. Life doesn’t work like that.”
“Make sure you keep your promise, or I’ll never trust you again,” Amy said, lifting her chin and setting her shoulders with determined pride. “Come sit. You have to eat before you go. I packed your lunch as well.”
“Thanks,” Dylan said, her throat tightening as she swallowed back her tears. It wouldn’t do to break down. She was stronger than that.
The next hour passed in a blur as Dylan ate, drank her coffee, loaded her backpack, and said her goodbyes. At last, there was nothing more to do, and they clambered into the Humvee.
As Saul pulled out of the driveway, Dylan waved at Alex and Amy, their figures dwindling in the rearview mirror until she couldn’t see them anymore. Her heart felt like a frozen lump in her chest, and it took everything she had not to scream at Saul to take her back.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she thought. “Dear God, I hope this isn’t the biggest mistake of my life.”
Worst of all, she would never know if it was a mistake until it was too late. Life was neither kind nor forgiving, and the apocalypse even less so.
Chapter 10 - Tara
“Where to first?” Tara asked, shifting around in her seat to get comfortable. The interior of the Humvee was spartan, but not all that bad considering it was army issue and an older model. The most surprising factor was its relatively smooth ride now that they weren’t bouncing over an open field at full speed. The only problem was the lack of heat, and she was glad she’d dressed warmly.
“We’re heading to Radcliff,” Saul said, pointing at the horizon ahead.
“Why? We’ve got everything we need, don’t we?” Tara said.
“Not everything. We are short on medical supplies,” Saul replied. “Anything could happen on the road, and we’d better be prepared.”
“Oh, right. I forgot about that.” Tara glanced at Dylan, who had rolled herself up in a thick blanket on the backseat. “You okay with that, Dylan?”
“Yeah, whatever,” came the muffled reply.
“Are you cold?” Tara asked with a tinge of amusement.
“Freezing.”
“I’m sorry. It should warm up soon,” Tara said.
“Tell that to my fingers and toes,” Dylan said, only her eyes and nose showing.
Tara smothered a grin and looked ahead. The city of Radcliff loomed on the skyline. It was bigger than she expected, and for a second, worry set in. “What about zombies?”
“Most of them were drawn to Fort Knox,” Saul said. “We have a small window of opportunity here.”
“I see.”
“But, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be careful. Infected aren’t the only danger out there. People are just as dangerous, if not more so. You should know that.”
Tara paled as Saul’s words stirred up an old memory from the Congo. There she’d learned firsthand just how barbaric people could be. If she’d been innocent and trusting before, that experience had cured her.
She sat in quiet contemplation as Saul entered the city limits. He drove through the deserted streets, and she reflected that this must be what the term ghost town truly meant. Broken glass glittered on the pavement, and the numerous shop fronts gaped open to the elements. Rubbish littered the sidewalks, piled into mounds where the wind had pushed it up against barriers, and swept it into corners — nature’s broom. Abandoned cars and wrecks were everywhere, many of them covered with smears of dried blood.
The worst
was the bodies. Dead people lay strewn about at random intervals. In the streets, sprawled across car hoods, slumped over the wheel of their vehicle, or hanging out of windows. Most had been infected, their heads blown away by soldiers or other survivors. But some had been human when they died, killed in a car crash or thrown from a second-story window. Jumped, maybe?
Flies buzzed around the decaying corpses, crawling over sightless eyes while rats chewed on anything they could reach. Tara even spotted wild dogs roaming the streets in packs and tugging on the flesh of lifeless limbs to fill their starving bellies. Feral cats prowled the gutters, and maggots wriggled through it all, the true scavengers of decay.
Tara closed her eyes with one hand pressed to her lips. She’d seen a lot of death in her life and examined many a diseased cadaver, but this was…she couldn’t find the words to describe it. Neither Saul nor Dylan said anything either. For what was there to say?
She was grateful when Saul left the city center behind and headed into less crowded areas. He knew where he was going: A small private clinic he’d circled on a map he carried in his inner pocket. He’d deliberately ignored the hospital and medical centers. They’d be too dangerous, and the army had probably raided them already.
When they reached the clinic, he parked in the front and switched the engine off. “This is it.”
Tara nodded. “Are we going in together?”
“I’ll go in first and scope it out,” Saul said. “I’ve got more experience at clearing buildings of possible hostiles.”
“Fair enough. We’ll wait here, then?”
“I’ll be right back,” Saul said, grabbing his gear and jumping out.
She watched him do a quick recon of the area before he entered the clinic, her chest tight with worry and anticipation. “I hope he’s okay.”
“He seems to know what he’s doing,” Dylan said, leaning forward until her head was level with Tara’s. She’d discarded her blanket, ignoring the cold for the moment.
“He’s a professional. I’ve seen him do pretty amazing things,” Tara agreed. “I think he used to be special forces of some kind, though he never talks about it.”
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