The Fortress

by Michael Scattergood

  Bobby and Jordyn, age 9:

  “Promise me you’ll always be here for me.”

  “I promise.”

  Jordyn said this every time she came over. To the point it almost made her laugh during the worst nights of her life. It didn’t make Bobby laugh, Bobby resented Mr. Thompson. He swore to himself that when he was older he would take him out. A silly vow, one made from watching too many vengeance based movies. But the vow came from his growing love for Jordyn. The two had become great friends since that first night she visited. They rode the bus together, ate lunch together, and played together after school. Adults would ask if they were twin siblings from how close they were, but Bobby shook his head at the thought. He was falling for her, even at such a young age.

  Bobby and Jordyn, age 11:

  “Promise me you’ll always be here for me.”

  “I promise.”

  Bobby and Jordyn, age 13:

  Jordyn came through the window, sobbing. At this point Bobby made sure it was unlocked every night before bed. Jordyn had a permanent invitation whenever she needed it. It was a particularly hard night for Jordyn, as this time the abuse had come just two days after Walter vowed to quit drinking and stop the abuse. Two days later he was a bottle and a half of whiskey deep, taking swings at Victoria.

  Jordyn resented both her parents that night, her father for obvious reasons, and her mother for sticking around. Why hadn’t she taken Jordyn and got the hell out of there? Was there still love there? Or a foolish hope that he could turn it all around? How dare she subject her daughter to this while she waits to see how it plays out! The only person truly there for her was Bobby.

  Bobby could tell there was something different about this night. Their hold on each other seemed like more than just comfort. He could tell it had been a worse night than the typical abusive scumbag behavior.

  “Promise me you’ll always be here for me.” This was different then all the other times she had said. Jordyn held onto the most important person in her life, the only person she could truly count on. She usually didn’t look up when she said this, she had her face buried on his shoulder or something. But on this night, she pulled away and stared directly into his eyes. Bobby could see something in her eyes. He saw her feeling the same way he did, he saw her love through her eyes.

  “I promise.” He said, meeting her gaze in a similar fashion.

  She leaned forward and kissed him, their first kiss, and their only kiss until the zombie infestation.

  Jordyn and Bobby, age 15:

  After the kiss, Jordyn stopped coming to Bobby’s room at night. Not that her dad stopped, but she was old enough to know her dad was just an abusive pig. She didn’t need the comfort, but she didn’t diminish the importance of Bobby being her neighbor over the years. She didn’t know what she would have done without him.

  The two remained friends, best friends, but they never talked about the kiss. They suppressed their feelings in order to maintain a friendship that had lasted 8 strong years. But deep down, they both were absolutely enamored with the other. It was a deep love. They knew that even if they never discussed that night when they were 13, never acted on their feelings, never had the nerve to tell the other how they felt, they would still love each other until their dying breaths.

  Chapter 33

  “Still can’t believe you waited until the zombie attack to start dating Jordyn.” Tommy said from the backseat.

  “There’s a simple explanation for that.”

  “What’s that?”

  “She’s a spy for the zombies.”

  “I knew it.”

  Tommy, Bobby, and Tracey made their way to the closest Walmart. It was about 8 miles away, usually took about 25 minutes but when you don’t really have to follow traffic lights, signs, and rules, it only took 13 minutes. They drove around car debris, and over power lines that had been torn down. Why did their town still have above-ground power lines? After a late start to the day they were finally pulling into the parking lot at 3:30, two hours until sundown.

  Their neighbor’s Mazda pulled into a parking space and the three got out. They each had an assault rifle, a pistol, an ammo belt with 5 magazines for each weapon, and a knife sheathed in their pockets. They haven’t had much luck in past grocery trips after all. The area was quiet, their shoes on the pavement being the only noise discernable. The parking lot had five cars which had been ripped to shreds. The tires were missing, the hoods were up with pieces of the engine ripped out, the windows were smashed in, and even the steering wheel on one was torn away and on the pavement next to the vehicle.

  They walked into the store to see that it had seen better days as well. The lights were off, and the light coming from the glass front doors was illuminating only part of the store. Aisles were knocked over, products were scattered all over the floor, and dried blood splotches were too common. The Nagel’s wondered if it had been from the zombies or the looting that they had witnessed at other stores that first night.

  Bobby quietly walked back out to the car to search for a flashlight. After some digging around he found one in the glovebox, and smiled at his luck. He let the assault rifle hang around his back on the strap, and took out his pistol. He went back into the store with the pistol in his right hand and flashlight in the left.

  They decided to briefly search the store for zombies before stocking up on groceries. They quietly crept through, peeking aisle after aisle, but heard or saw nothing. Bobby tried to hide the flashlight beam as much as he could, stuffing it against his chest after making sure an aisle was clear until he got to the next one. They walked quietly, but not silently. The slight noise their steps were making attracted no visitors. They were in the middle of a long aisle when Tommy decided to try their luck.

  “I’m going to make some noise and see if it draws any out. Bobby watch that end of the aisle, Tracey and I will take this one.” The two had the end that led to a larger part of the store. Although Tracey has been good so far, he learned the hard way not to have someone watch their backs that he hasn’t seen fight in person. He grabbed a heavy can of soup from the shelf and dropped it on the ground, a loud ping shot through the aisles. But no sound could be heard. After a few moments of silence he grabbed another and spiked it on the ground more forcefully, still nothing. He reached his arm behind a large group of cans and brushed them all off, the clang of 10 cans hitting the ground made waves through the store, surely alerting anyone else in the building. No sound could be heard. They were clear. 3:54 p.m.

  Tracey, still on her toes despite the all-clear, silently walked back to the front of the store to grab a cart. The flashlight guided the team through the aisles as they loaded up the cart with non-perishables. With the electricity off, the fridges and freezers went off too. They loaded up on canned food that was not thrown on the floor, snacks high in protein, and any non-perishable fruits or vegetables. They’d have to find another store with their freezer section running if they wanted some real meals anytime soon. Sports drinks, fruit drinks, coffee, and whatever they wanted were thrown into the cart. Eventually, it was time to “check out” and they made their way to the front. 4:28 p.m.

  “Get down.” Bobby said, hushed, but forceful.

  “What?” Tommy said.

  He looked towards the front door and saw a group of zombies near their car. They ducked behind a stand of dead flowers. Bobby peeked over, and saw vehicular carnage. The Mazda was being torn apart by a group of roughly 10 zombies. Watching their way home be destroyed put a pit in each of their stomachs. The car was already not drivable. It was a savage act. But how did they know to do this? Their motions were caveman-like, they moved so wildly and uncontrollably. But they knew to destroy their mode of transportation? Have they done this before? Were the other cars here for the same reason? Was this, somehow, orchestrated by the zombies? Grocery shopping can never just be easy.

  “Now what?” Tracey said. The Nagel’s were silent, each thinking of their possible options. They could stay
here and be sitting ducks until the zombies find them. Or they could run home, with the sun setting…

  “Have we seen any functional cars in the area?” Tommy finally said.

  “I wasn’t really looking for them but there are other stores around, but they probably destroyed them too,” Bobby said.

  “Still might be our best option, or else we’d have to-“

  “Yep.”

  “And it’ll be dark soon-“

  “Yeah it will.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Tommy left the two and went to the back of the store. He came back with three black backpacks from the school section. They stuffed the backpacks full, having to omit a few unnecessary items. It would slow them down if they had to run, but they weren’t going through all of this for nothing.

  “Our guns are going to make a lot of noise,” Tracey said, “But we can’t walk outside and say ‘excuse me see any working cars around.”

  “Yeah, I think we just have to shoot ‘em down. It’s an open parking lot, we’ll be able to see groups coming.” Bobby said.

  Tommy put his arm around both of their shoulders, “If there are no cars around, I guess we just book it home as fast as possible. It’s going to be dark at some point, but we’ll just have to keep moving. They picked the wrong humans to piss off, let’s do this.”

  4:46 p.m. 8 miles from home. 44 minutes until darkness.

  They walked out the front door, the zombies snapping their necks towards them almost in unison. Before the zombies even started moving towards them, the trio took the heads off 5 of out of 10. The other 5 started running towards them, Tommy paused, aimed, and put 3 bullets in 3 heads. Efficiency. Bobby and Tracey put down the last 2 before they even got to full sprint. Tommy liked this new trio.

  They scanned the parking lot for more zombies and, more importantly, more cars. They found neither. The only other car in a neighboring store lot was upside down. They kept scanning the lot, hoping a BMW would poof out of thin air, or a Toyota would be air-dropped in by a cargo plane. Stranger things have happened this year, but no such luck.

  “Crap.” Tommy said, and started running home. He had once ran a 5 minute mile, but not 8 of them in a row with 2 guns, a heavy backpack, and a sprained knee.

  4:51 p.m. 8 miles from home. 39 minutes until sundown.

  Chapter 34

  4:56 p.m. 7.5 miles from home. 34 minutes until sundown.

  Tommy knew he would be running in the darkness soon. The sun had already receded down behind the horizon, its glow still providing a purple haze to the Western part of the sky. Unfortunately for them, The Fortress was dead east. They felt like they were running into a hole. It didn’t help that the street they were on had no streetlights, and was surrounded by thick woods on both sides. They didn’t dare use a flashlight, although there was no way any zombies wouldn’t hear their sprinting feet on the blacktop road or the shuffling noise the contents of their backpacks made. Or would their scent be easier for them to track? Tommy decided not to worry about how they would find them, but rather how he would see them. They had ears and noses too, and the zombies would be walking on crunchy leaves and smelled, well, like they’ve been dead for weeks.

  They knew only one way home by heart. Freeman Street for about 3 miles, mostly straight, wide, no street lights. Then right onto Devon Hill Road, a winding, narrow, wooded, dark, hilly, death trap that had seen more accidents than an 8-week old puppy, 1.5 miles. Left onto Ontario Road for 2.5 miles, this road actually had street lights, but Tommy remembered driving over the destroyed power lines on the way here. However, Ontario was flat, and unlike the other roads was lined with houses instead of trees. Right onto Burken Street, 0.75 miles, a combination of houses and woods. And finally, Andreas Road for the last quarter mile, just a straight shot to the end of the cul-de-sac until they would be at The Fortress. Gee, I wonder which road we’ll run into trouble on? Tommy thought.

  5:00 p.m. 6.9 miles from home. 30 minutes until sundown. Freeman Street.

  Tommy knew he had gone a little more than a mile, but it felt like he had run 3 already. The heavy backpack and the gun in his hands had more of an effect than he initially realized. Not to mention the leg injury, he was still recovering from a sprained knee, future nurse Jordyn would not approve of this running.

  Focus, dammit, focus! Tommy yelled in his head. Every second he wasn’t actively listening for the crunching of leaves left him vulnerable, or more vulnerable than he already was. He let his mind go blank and tried to pick up any noise that wasn’t one of their shoes hitting the pavement. They’ll be plenty of time to worry about his sprained knee from the comfort of his bed, next to Melanie.

  Tracey was never much of a runner, but it did not show. She led the way down the street, making her pace look effortless even though it was near her full sprint. Her body already yearned for her to slow down, but she tuned it out and pushed through. All the while she scanned the area for any signs of presence. That’s when she saw the silhouette of a lone zombie on the road moving slowly toward her direction. It perked up when it noticed the three humans, and began a more frantic pace. Tracey slowed to a walk and lifted her gun.

  “Wait!” Bobby said, hushed but loud enough to be heard over the footsteps. He moved in front of her and unsheathed his combat knife from his left side with his right hand. He walked towards the zombie, knife at his side. Tommy and Tracey fanned out to both sides of Bobby and raised their guns. Bobby stopped, and let the zombie come closer and closer, it sensing an easy meal. As it got within a few feet, Bobby quickly lunged forward and raised the knife. It surprised the zombie and he drove the knife through its skull before it had time to even register the attack. The zombie fell to the ground as Bobby swiveled his gun in case he didn’t go down. But it did. Bobby left the knife in the skull, not wanting to risk infection from keeping it.

  Tommy and Tracey realized although the move was reckless, he had just bought them some more time before all hell broke loose. A gunshot could trigger any zombie in the area. Since it was just one, Bobby’s kill kept their anonymity going for the time being.

  5:09. 5.8 miles from home. 21 minutes until sundown. Freeman Street.

  Tommy’s sprained knee was in excruciating pain. Bobby’s sprained ankle was swollen to twice its size. Tracey’s lungs were hanging on by a thread. They had so much left to go. Nobody wanted to be the weak link, and other than some limps and loud breathing none of them showed their struggle. Internally, they kept their eyes and ears peeled. Head on a swivel, kid. Bobby’s football coach used to say. He scanned every direction, even occasionally looking backwards just to make sure none were sneaking up on them. It wasn’t really the zombies’ style to sneak around but he couldn’t take any chances. Any mistake could leave the three of them dead.

  Suddenly, leaves crunched ahead and to the right, along with a low groan. All three stopped dead in their tracks and looked towards the sound. One zombie walked into the road, then a second, then a third. Slowly, they were moving across the street about 30 yards in front of them. The humans were kneeling and motionless. Please keep moving, please don’t see us. As if the last zombie in line had heard his thoughts, he sniffed, and then snapped his neck towards Tommy, Bobby, and Tracey. Tommy had trained the sights of his assault rifle on his head. Don’t do it, please don’t do it. The zombie wasn’t moving towards them, just looking in their direction. They could barely see it in the moonlight, but apparently the zombie couldn’t see them. He moved his head back, kept sniffing the air, and continued across the street. Guess he chalked it up to a false flag.

  The leaves started crunching on the other side of the street as the zombies made their way into the woods on the left side of the street. Tommy, Bobby, and Tracey didn’t move an inch until the crunching of the leaves was too far away to make a noise. They knelt in dead silence for minutes. The silence became so quiet that it left an eerie ringing in their ears.

  “Should we go?” Tracey asked in the lowest possible volume that could still be he
ard by the Nagel’s. Without a word, Bobby nodded and started to get up, moving slowly and quietly down the street. The other two followed his lead. Eventually they picked up their speed and picked their fast pace back up. It was the scariest break of their life, but a break nonetheless, and that six minute rest gave them a second wind as they took off towards Devon Hill Road.

  5:21. 5 miles from home. 9 minutes until sundown. Devon Hill Road.

  Nine minutes until sundown, with clouds covering the western part of the sky, was pretty much sundown in terms of darkness. However they did catch a minor break. Tommy remembered back in his astronomy elective that a first quarter moon peaks in the sky at 6 p.m. Luckily for them, the half-moon was out and provided them with just a hint of light. Unluckily for them, the trees that lined and hung over the narrow Devon Hill Road often blocked most of the light. Still, better than complete darkness on the partly cloudy eastern side of the sky.

  Tommy didn’t know if the other two planned to run slower, trying to keep their feet on the road as quiet as possible, or if exhaustion was wearing them down. They weren’t Olympians after all, so keeping a sprint going for 8 miles wasn’t realistic even in their current predicament. Their speed was half their initial pace, but their steps were proportionally quieter.

  To make matters worse, Devon Hill had cracks and potholes. Tommy felt the uneven road often, his bad knee barely holding himself up on some steps.

  5:25. 4.6 miles from home. 5 minutes until (alleged) sundown. Devon Hill Road.

  Bobby hit a pothole hard with his sprained ankle. The heel of his foot went 4 inches lower than expected, while the ball of his foot hit the even, higher ground. His ankle gave under his body weight and he crashed to the ground. The assault rifle he was holding in both hands clanged on the ground, the sound echoing through the woods. Bobby lay on the ground, still, as if being still now could take away the sound he just made. Tommy and Tracey also stopped, their guns raised and scanning every direction.