by Olah, Jeff
A sense of relief washed over Randy, but was short lived as he noticed that beyond the crowd a single brown leather boot lay on its side near the edge of the road. There was no mistaking the boot or its owner. “Come on Gil, we both know you’re better than that.”
Randy pushed through the four-way stop and looked toward the bend in the road a hundred yards ahead. He remembered there was an old Ford pickup that the Mayor could have used to hide from the crowds. His friend may have just lost the boot in a foot race back to the truck and was now waiting and resting.
“Yeah right, there’s no way he’d …” There was movement in his rearview mirror. Randy crushed the brake into the floorboard, shifted the car into reverse, and began to laugh. Even though it was only a quick glance he would have recognized the man in the white Stetson hobbling along the side of the road from more than a mile away.
Mayor Gil grabbed his boot, slapped it against his thigh, and pulled it over his right foot. He turned back and held up his arm as Randy approached, his jacket torn at the shoulder and his thick beard a dusty mess.
Pulling alongside his friend and now lowering the passenger side window, Randy shook his head and leaned toward the door. “Hey old-timer, I’m hoping you can help me find my friend. He’s like five-ten, maybe five-eleven, I’m thinking around two-hundred pounds.”
Mayor Gil looked back at the crowd and then through the open window. “Boy, you’ve got that timing thing down to a science. Another few minutes and you woulda been driving past an extra-large pile of roadkill.”
“Hey, I would have at least slowed down enough to pay my respects.”
The former Mayor opened the door and slipped into the seat beside Randy. “And just for the record, I ain’t ever been nowhere close to two-hundred pounds, even when things were good.”
Randy nodded, shifting back into drive and looking down the road that led to what was once their home. “You okay?”
Gil rested his arm on the door, also gazing out toward Harbor Crest. “I’m good, right as rain.”
Randy couldn’t think of how to transition into the conversation he knew he needed to have with his friend. He didn’t have many answers, much less a concrete plan for what was to come. That wasn’t unusual for the way the world was now, although he and his friends had gotten used to a certain lifestyle.
And that was a problem.
“So,” Gil said, obviously aware that the direction of their conversation was about to take a turn. “What are we doin’ out here?”
“Things are bad, Gil.”
“Son, you remember the first few days of this thing, the first few hours when nothin’ seemed right, when not a single person knew what in the hell was goin’ on?”
“Of course.”
“That was bad, the first few weeks, the first few months, those were all bad. Now though, now we got runnin’ water, we grow food, we drive cars that run on electricity from the sun. Hell, we got it good, even if it all gets taken away. We know what to do, and how to do it, even if we have to do it all over. So as long as we still have a heart that beats and lungs that are able to take in this crisp mornin’ air, we have everything we need.”
Randy rested his hand on Mayor Gil’s shoulder and regarded him with an even grin. “I gotta say, that is the biggest load of crap I have ever heard. You’ve had some good lines over the years; however, this one takes the cake … everything we need, yeah right.”
Gil turned to him, his eyes narrowed, and his mouth hanging open. He started to respond, but Randy held up his hand and shook his head. “But you know what my friend, I also have to say that you are absolutely one-hundred percent spot on. We’re gonna have to fight for what we want, and we’re gonna have to bleed. It won’t be easy, but yeah you’re right, we know how to get there. So, how about we get back to our friends and let them know we have a plan.”
30
Mason ran to Ava, took the nine millimeter from her frozen hand, and wrapped her in a hug. She was shaking and had begun to cry, her face buried in his chest and her hands gripped tight to his shirt. She had taken down more Feeders than he could count over the last five years, although there was never a time when she had been forced to end the life of another human.
It wasn’t something anyone should have to face, let alone a nineteen year old girl.
Ava turned her head in the direction of the man with three holes in his back as he bled out and faded from this world. She flinched and guarded her left side as Mason pulled her closer and forced her to look away.
“Hey, look at me. Come on Ava, you’re okay, you’re fine. You made it.”
She shook more violently, her chest heaving, and her breaths shallow. Her face was dirty and wet, dark lines running from under her eyes. “I can’t, I can’t breathe.”
Mason leaned back, but reached for her hands. They were cold and streaked with blood. “It’s okay, you’re just scared.” He lowered his voice and intentionally slowed his words. “You can breathe, just close your eyes and count to ten. Focus on each number as you say it, picture it in your mind, what it would look like if you had to draw it by hand on a chalkboard.”
Through her sobs, she let out a chuckle. “A chalkboard?”
“Trust me, just do it.”
Ava looked up at him, her light blue eyes now stained red from crying and from exhaustion. She stared at him for a moment, looking like she was on the verge of a breakdown, but then slowly lowered her head and closed her eyes. “Ten …”
Mason looked to her right, over her shoulder and checked the three men. The two on either side had long since left this world, although the third, the short fat man with the greasy ponytail, convulsed. He wasn’t all the way gone, but he was close.
“Nine … eight … seven … six.”
He didn’t feel sorry for the man with the ponytail. There were two kinds of people left in this world and that man decided to stand on the wrong side. No matter what Vince’s true intentions were, he put Mason and his family in harm’s way, and for no good reason. And by association, the men at the side of the road were just as guilty.
Mason didn’t feel the need to justify his own actions—that ship had sailed a long time ago—but it gave him relief to know that what Ava had done wasn’t without cause. She was as innocent as anything left in this world and in his mind, this didn’t change anything.
“Five … four … three … two … one.” Ava let go of his hands, but she was no longer shaking and her voice sounded almost normal.
Under his breath Mason said, “Good, you’re gonna be fine.”
Ava stepped forward and hugged him once again, this time pulling him in tighter than before. “Thank you for coming to get me … and for not giving up.”
“Ava, you don’t have to thank me. You don’t ever have to thank me.”
She squeezed him one last time and winced as she let go. Her face tightened and she reached for her left side.
“You okay?”
“I think so, it just kinda hurts when I breathe in, and when I’m running, and when I touch it, and pretty much all the time now.” She forced a grin.
Mason tilted his head, looking toward her left hip. “Can you walk?”
“Yeah, it’s not that bad.”
“You want to show me?”
Ava thought for a minute and then nodded. “Yeah, okay.” She lifted her shirt and exposed her left side, from waist to just below her armpit. Her cheeks went red and she looked away as Mason got in close and checked her injury.
The area was already beginning to bruise, the purples and blues already coming to the surface, but he didn’t notice any sign of a break and as long as she was able to move enough to get her shirt away from her hip, he knew she’d be okay.
“Looks like at least a few bruised ribs, but I don’t think anything is broken.” Mason stepped back and matched her grin. “You’re still in one piece for now, but I’m gonna need you to do less of that superhero stuff until we get back to the others, okay?”
Ava smiled now. “Yeah, okay.”
Mason nodded, turning to look back in the opposite direction. They had a long, hard road ahead of them, literally as well as figuratively. They weren’t going back to Harbor Crest, at least not today, but just getting back to Savannah and Ava’s parents and all of the others wasn’t going to be easy, and it was just the start.
He slipped the nine millimeter he had taken from her into his waistband, stretched his lower back, and finally turned back to her. “You ready to go?”
Ava hesitated. She looked away for a second and wiped at her eyes. “My mom and dad, my brother?”
“They’re okay, they made it out.”
“Uh,” Again Ava smiled, her relief fighting through the weight of it all. “And … and Lucas?”
“Yeah, he’s banged up, but he’ll be fine. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“The others?”
“I think everyone got out.” He wasn’t sure, but it was what she needed to hear. It was what might get her through what was to come, and what would get her back to her family. Even if he wasn’t being completely honest, it would be worth it.
Ava looked down the road and then back at him. “Okay.”
“Alright then,” Mason said, “you ready?”
31
Travis Higgins stood at the gates of Harbor Crest looking back at the home he’d helped build and tried to figure out exactly how they had gotten here, how things could have gone so terribly wrong. He thought about the progress he and his friends had made, the countless hours they’d put into assuring the walls would hold, that the gates were secure, and that they were finally able to live a somewhat normal life.
He liked the idea of it, but a part of him also knew that a life like that no longer existed, that he and his friends could never have a normal life as long as the dead continued to walk the earth. They were in a tough spot, but they would get through it. They would continue to do what they’d always done, and although it wasn’t ideal, on some level it was a necessary reminder that may just keep them alive.
Back to his friends, Travis helped Lucas to his feet. “You gonna make it, kid?”
Lucas nodded, his face a darker shade and his eyes almost back to normal. He finished the bottle of water Savannah had given him, and offered the others a quick thumbs-up. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
Travis turned and started down the two-lane road that led away from Harbor Crest. “It could be a few hours before we get there, and even then we still have a few things to figure out. If you need to stop, just say the word.”
“Sure.”
Savannah walked between Lucas and Travis. She cinched down the straps of her pack and motioned ahead toward Ethan and Dr. Gentry. “I need to get with them. You guys going to be okay back here?”
Travis laid his hand on her shoulder. He knew she was hurting, but realized there really wasn’t much he could do to help. “I’ll make sure the kid here doesn’t wander off. You just let Ethan know this isn’t a sprint. The others will be alright until we get there.”
She slowed for a second and hugged Travis. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For getting everyone out and for getting us this far.”
He appreciated the gesture, but knew there was still a long road ahead. And while he believed they’d find a new home, he wasn’t so sure he could do it alone. “I appreciate it, but you know that’s not necessary.”
Savannah walked ahead, looking back over her shoulder, a smirk growing on her face. “Yeah, we all know, you were just doing what anyone else would have done.”
“That’s not what I—”
Savannah continued on, a hint of sarcasm hanging in her voice as she cut him off. “Just say thanks already, we all know what you did.”
He began to nod. “Yeah okay, thank you very much Savannah.”
“See,” Savannah said as she hurried to catch Ethan and Dr. Gentry. “That wasn’t so hard.”
An hour down the road and they had made good time. It looked to Travis like they were almost halfway to the meet-up point, one that Mason, Randy, and a few others had decided on in the event of a catastrophic failure, one that had them fleeing Harbor Crest. It seemed a bit excessive at the time, and no one ever believed they’d need to execute the plan, although now he was relieved by the forethought.
Travis lifted the bottle of water in his left hand and held it up to the sun. Slightly more than a quarter remained. He was okay and would easily make the bridge, but his young friend had slowed for the third time in the last few minutes and was now sweating more than he thought was normal.
“Hey,” Travis said.
Lucas glanced over at him. He looked better than before. “Yeah?”
“How ya doin’?”
“I feel good, like I’m getting my second wind. My lower back hurts a little, but nothing like it did earlier.”
“Good.” Travis held out the bottle of water. “Drink this.”
Lucas took the bottle and quickly downed what was left. “Hey Travis?”
“What’s up?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever asked you …”
Travis knew what was coming. He rarely talked about himself and because only a few people really knew him, there were rumors and stories. Mostly they were true, but always exaggerated and overblown. He didn’t mind setting the record straight, and usually preferred to do it one on one.
“Let me guess, you want to know if I’ll go to the prom with you?”
Lucas smiled. The shot of humor seemed to kill the awkward tension. “You don’t have to, but I was just wondering what you did before all of this. Ava said …” He paused for a second at her name. “Ava said you were a police officer.”
Travis took the empty bottle from his friend. And out of habit, crushed it, and slipped it into his pocket. “Ava’s right—I was a police officer, but it was way before all of this, years.”
“Oh.”
Travis knew that wasn’t everything Lucas was asking, so he continued. He didn’t mind sharing his story, and after all this time, it was beginning to feel like he was describing someone else. “I was an officer until I lost my wife and my son to this drug addict scumbag. The details are long and messy, but the man who did it ended up getting off on a technicality. So instead of refiling and waiting for the chance at a new trial, I went to his home in the middle of the night and I killed him.”
“Travis, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, I really didn’t.”
Remembering the details of his past gave him pause. He half regretted not just stopping at the fact that he was an officer. And although he didn’t think it would hurt, there was a part of him that still felt the pain of losing the most wonderful woman and the most amazing little boy he’d ever known. However, there was another part of him, a bigger part, a part of him he really had no control over that was glad his wife and his son never had to see a world like this.
“Don’t worry about it, you couldn’t have known.”
Lucas looked away, squinting as he stared off toward the horizon. “I really didn’t know, I swear. I’m so …”
As Lucas’s voice dropped away, Travis turned to him and then followed his eyes. It only took a second to see it, and then to notice Savannah, Ethan, and Dr. Gentry now sprinting back toward them. At first there was just a handful, maybe a half dozen Feeders stumbling out into the road. But before he could make sense of what he was looking at, the horde had grown so massive that their numbers were slowly beginning to dim the world beyond.
Travis moved quickly to Lucas, resting his hand on his young friend’s shoulder. “Are you okay to run?”
32
Randy pulled to the side of the road, dense grey smoke now lifting away from Harbor Crest in the distance. He shifted into park, leaned across the seat, and began digging through the glove box. The area reminded him of something from the last time he’d driven this particular vehicle and thought it might set the vibe for the rest of the trip.
And just maybe put a smile on his friend’s face.
Mayor Gil shifted in his seat. “Somethin’ in there that I’m not able to find for you?”
“Just a little surprise, something I forgot about.”
Mayor Gil tipped his white Stetson and peered out through the window on the driver’s door. “You sure we ain’t got no one left in there? You get word from Megan … your boy?”
Randy continued to push aside a mess of food wrappers and long since expired vehicle registrations. “Yeah, thanks. Travis assured me they got out. Now the place is just a ghost town, but I’m not too sure that man on the radio was being completely honest. Seems like something else is going on.”
“I guess it don’t really matter anymore now does it?”
Randy came away with a dusty plastic case, quickly pulled it open, and pushed a CD into the player on the dash. He turned to Gil, waiting for the first song to start, a ridiculous grin growing on his face. “Now, I’m not even sure you like this kind of music but—”
From the first three cords, there was no mistaking the song. The lyrics hadn’t even begun and Gil started to shake his head as he turned to Randy. “Son, are you serious?”
Randy just stared at him, the last cord building toward the intro. “Uh …”
Mayor Gil narrowed his eyes, he didn’t look amused. “I’m from the south, but I never said it was Alabama.”
There were a few seconds of strained tension as Sweet Home Alabama blared through the speakers of the four door electric vehicle. Randy looked from Gil to the read-out on the dash and then back to Gil. He wasn’t used to trying to lighten the mood, that wasn’t his thing. He was the guy that protected his friends, the guy that fought the dead, and the guy that built things with his bare hands. This wasn’t something he had experience with, he wasn’t made to care what others felt or thought, but for the last three years Mayor Gil had been like a father to him.