“I got it,” I manage to choke out between bites, taking the sausage from Sami’s hand. And is it just me or did those sound like real words she might understand? “Help Leesh. I can eat.”
“Noah, you’re back!” Sami yelps. “Keep eating, Neil will be right here with water, just hang in there. Okay, Felecia, open up, here comes the airplane.” I can hear her make the noise while flying the meatball into Felecia’s mouth, her head still resting on my stomach.
“You’re not weird Sami.” My voice is dry and shaky, but comprehensible. “You’re the coolest kid I know. I wish my little sister had been like you. You shoulda been with us from the start.”
She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t have to, the smile that spreads from ear to ear says it all.
We enter a thick cluster of tall pines, entombing us in darkness. With so little sunlight left in the sky, it doesn’t take much for night to settle in, at least in the confines of the conifers. We can’t be in the woods at night, we’ll never see them coming.
As if they can hear my thoughts, someone crashes into our rickety trailer. There’s no one protecting this side of it, Maxwell’s already got her hands full keeping them at bay. Sami’s busy feeding Felecia, and Norwood’s still slumped against the metal ramp, trying to find the strength to stand. How am I gonna fight this thing? I can barely sit up.
He reaches a gnarled hand over the railing, grabbing at me, not smart enough to jump on. He keeps pace beside us, trying to pull me over with the desperation of hunger apparent in his every movement. If they don’t eat, do they become me and Felecia, too drained to even take another step? Do they wither away and die of starvation?
Sami springs to her feet but it’s too late, he’ll be dragging me off before she can stop him. I’m wiggling as much as I can, trying to break free of his grip but my squirmy worm maneuver isn’t working. He’s got me.
I’m going over.
CHAPTER 18
His calloused hands latch onto me, one on my vest, the other wrapped around my forearm. You can tell he was the type of guy who liked shaking your hand to prove his dominance, or whatever the stern shake is all about. Do you ever dangle it there limply, just to mess with them? Oh, no, just me? It doesn’t look like I’ll get the opportunity to do that again. Why? Because even if I survive this, I doubt I’ll be encountering any new people.
We’re trapped here, on a continent that’s been abandoned. On a coast that’s been dead from the start. If I find a way to survive this, I have a feeling we’re it. The next time we encounter humans, it won’t be under friendly circumstances. They’ll be trying to rob us or rape and pillage or whatever barbaric tendencies any survivors will have. I’m quite certain we won’t be sitting down to discuss classical poetry over pine needle tea.
Maybe dead is better. I know me, and I’m gonna lie awake every night, wondering if there was something I could have done different. Something that would have gotten us on that helicopter. Something I didn’t see at the time that hindsight would reveal so clearly.
When you look back, you see all these other routes you could have taken. I should have killed Buckley when I had the chance. Shane and Paul too. What would have happened if Felecia and I ran when we were kicked off the bus? What if Tyrone and I were successful in killing Neil at the gas station? He never would have talked to his dad in the first place. There’s so many other paths we could have taken.
I don’t know if I can live with those what ifs. Not when they mean I’m stuck here, with no way out. We’ll procure an island. We’ll raid every store there is before the power goes out. We’ll survive on generators and solar panels. We’ll learn to garden and fish, scavenge for nuts and berries. We’ll adjust. We’ll survive, but I’ll be haunted by what could have been.
I let Handshake Harry’s enormous hands pull me closer to the edge before changing my mind. Is this what Neil felt when he jumped, before Norwood saved his life? Because despite all the what ifs, there’s only one that really matters, what if I hadn’t died?
As long as we’re breathing, we can always change the situation we’re in. It’s never impossible. Improbable, yes, but not impossible. As long as we’re alive, we can change the outcome. It may not be easy, but we can do it.
Jumper’s remorse.
I’m not ready yet. I don’t want this to be the end. I look forward to spending tomorrow with Felecia, whatever tomorrow entails. If it’s more of this, I think I’m okay with that. I want to live, dammit.
His icy cold, rough hands are too strong. They’re not even hands, they’re catcher’s mitts. Why are they so big? His fingers are freakin’ kielbasas. I’d be too scared to masturbate with those things, not only would I crush it, I’d rip it to shreds with callouses. Playing with your junk should not cause it to bleed, except for maybe Doug’s infamous marathon session but that’s beside the point.
The sparsely scattered white hairs of his combover flap in the breeze as he pulls my limp body closer, like I’m a piece of lumber or a bale of hay or whatever physically demanding job he did to turn his hands into bear paws.
My arms are moving, I can feel myself trying to fight him off. It’s like I’m telling my body what to do but the signals aren’t making it to my extremities. I’m just flopping around like a worm on the hot driveway. And he doesn’t seem the least bit intimidated by my violent thrashing.
Until he lets go voluntarily. His friends must have told him who I am. He thought he caught his next meal, but no, he caught Noah Britton. The sheer sight of me forces him to release me, knowing what kind of danger he’s placed himself in.
What the hell? Where’s his head? It’s gone. Where’d his head go? Did his fear of what I might do cause his skull to spontaneously combust?
Neil hops aboard the rolling platform on wheels as Man Hands drops from sight. I didn’t cause this, did I? It was Neil. Man, I thought my reputation amongst the zombie community preceded me. I’m the guy who makes panties drop and zombies flop. Can we just let me have this one?
“You got it,” Sami squeals. “Whatever bad things you did, you just made up for it.”
“Not even close,” he gasps, trying to catch his breath, handing her the pouch of water. “The river’s still rising. Marty, please tell me you can step on it.”
“I am stepping on it. It’s a damn lawnmower, this is how fast it goes.”
“Well unless it converts into a submarine, we’re about to be screwed. The river flattens out up ahead, after the ravine. It’s gonna be over our road in no time.”
“God dammit. This thing ain’t made for off roading. We’re gonna have to abandon ship and hoof the rest on foot. How they doin’ back there?”
“I’m mixing everything as fast as I can,” Sami barks. “Noah, here, drink. Hurry.”
I take a sip of the nasty concoction that tastes like chlorinated ocean with some kind of artificial fruity flavoring. It’s not disguising anything, it may as well be cheap cologne trying to cover B.O. on a hot day. I can’t place my finger on what fruit this is trying to be. Maybe all of them?
After chugging as much as I can fit in my mouth, I pass the water to Felecia, willing myself to swallow. I can feel every inch of its journey, travelling down my throat and into my stomach.
“Dusty, how you holding up?” Neil shouts over me, still swinging at incoming infects. “You gonna be able to run?”
“I don’t know man, I’m closer to passing out than running.” He sucks down the last of his hash browns, looking like he’s going to puke before he’s done swallowing. This bumpy ride, paired with the lawnmower fumes, isn’t helping any.
“We make them do too much,” Sami whines, pouring the nasty liquid into Felecia’s mouth. “It’s the three of them, every time.”
“Guys, I hate rushing you in the state you’re in, but up ahead, that water’s getting real close to our road.”
It takes all of my might but I’m able to crane my neck just enough to look ahead. If you were wondering, yes, riding mowers do apparently h
ave headlights, and it’s a damn good thing because without them we’d be driving blind. The thick pine needle canopy is blocking out the last traces of daylight.
The river’s breeched the forest to our left. I doubt it ever comes up this high, the top of the flood zone signs are disappearing underwater. At the rate it’s rising, we’re gonna be tire deep by the time we get there.
“How you doing?” I whisper, stroking Felecia’s back as she holds herself in a sitting position.
“Water’s helping. And the meatballs, here you gotta try these,” she says, passing them to me. “I don’t think I can run though. My heart’s trying to beat out of my chest as it is.”
I turn until we’re back to back, leaning against one another for support. Our hearts are battling it out, seeing whose can thump harder. But I can feel it, which is an improvement over where I was a few minutes ago.
“I think you guys are gonna have to leave us,” I finally say, swallowing a mouthful of salty meatballs and marinara. “We’re not gonna be able to run. We’ll just climb a tree or something and wait it out. What do we have for flashlights?”
“No, nuh uh.” Sami shakes her head vehemently. “No way are we leaving you. We still got a couple minutes, just keep eating. Here.” She passes the water from Felecia to Norwood. “You need to drink too. The river’s not covering the road yet, we still have time.”
“Maybe we all hit the trees,” Marty offers over his shoulder. “Build us a little Ewok village for a night or two, rest up. I know some of them can climb but it’s gotta be safer than down here.”
Neil nods, finally able to let his guard down without any zompires in the vicinity. “Never thought I’d see the day I’d agree with this overgrown hippie, but, I think going up the trees is our only shot at surviving this.”
“If we can find something to cut branches with…” Norwood stops to take another drink, forcing himself to swallow the salty concoction. “I know how to build a treehouse.”
“So we’re really doing this?” Sami asks, staring at her feet, tears building in her eyes. “This is it, we’re not even gonna try to beat the helicopter to that airport in the desert?”
I don’t know which one of us is going to break it to her. Nobody wants to be the one, I can see it in their eyes, and hear it in their silence. I think for the first time since this all started, we’re finally on the same page. We’ve realized the harsh truth we didn’t want to see is inescapable.
All we wanted was to leave this wasteland. To go back to some semblance of normal, wherever that may have brought us. We were willing to go. To fight. To sacrifice. We did. We gave it our all. But at some point, we all have to accept defeat.
CHAPTER 19
Our tires hit the water. It’s just a skim coat, splashing against the rubber, but it won’t stay like this for long. The river’s overflowed its banks, laughing at the designated flood zone, a graffiti artist ignoring no trespassing signs. With all the rain we’ve had this week, there’s no telling how high it’ll go.
Maxwell leans over the side of the trailer, filling the water pouch while the rest of us tap nervously, wondering if we’ll make it through the puddle in the road, or if this is the point we bail. The packed dirt beneath us is beginning to soften. Sooner or later, we’re getting stuck.
She drops a tablet into the canteen, takes a swig and passes it around. Everyone drinks in silence, lost in our own thoughts. Nobody’s said a word in at least ten minutes, not since admitting defeat.
The thing is, we need to not look at it like defeat. We didn’t lose, we survived. We get to live. When it comes down to it, that was always the end goal, it’s just not exactly how we envisioned it. It’s not a continuation of our old lives, but rather the dawning of our new ones.
It’s a lot to take in. I think the only thing getting me through is Felecia’s back pressed against mine as we rattle along the utility road. Knowing we have each other, it’s enough for us. I don’t know what’s getting the others through.
I don’t know where they planned on being in five years, but it sure as hell wasn’t here. These past few days, all we thought about was what it would be like once we escaped the initial outbreak. Where we would go. What life would be.
But it was always after we escaped.
For us, the outbreak doesn’t end. There is no after. And that’s a lot to put on anyone’s shoulders. To rip away their future and give them… this.
The engine sputters, trying to make it up a steep pitch along the last section of flooded roadway. We all take the hint and silently jump over the metal railing, helping to give Ol’ Bessie a push. It’s just too much weight for a lawnmower to handle. The fact that it’s strong enough to pull us all in the first place is a miracle in itself.
I land softer than I thought I would, less like a ton of bricks and more like, well, still a ton of bricks but on a mattress. A bouncy one kids would love to jump on when their parents aren’t home.
And hey, look at this, I’m actually contributing. Not to mention I can see where I’m going, as opposed to when everything looked like a bright speck directly in the center of my eyes.
“Looks like we’ve got maybe ten minutes or so before the sun’s fully set,” Marty says, interrupting the strained silence we’ve been dwelling in as the riding mower crests the hill. “If we’re gonna set up camp for the night, this might be the place to do it. We’ll be outta the path of the river. We’re burning through fuel, just below half a tank. I don’t think we’re gonna get much more than another twenty minutes out of her.”
“I think we need to keep moving,” I say, holding myself up against the trailer as Marty idles at the top of the hill. “You guys saw the lights in the dam, power’s going out. We gotta get back and raid every fridge and freezer we can find. We need to get ourselves set up off grid before there is no more grid. Generators and fuel to run them, until we can get ourselves hooked up with solar power.”
“Fourth floor, Fort Henderson, it’s secure,” Norwood sighs, cutting off his own words, finally getting some of his color back. “That roof is as empty as Neil’s jockstrap. We can throw up a whole mess of panels, buckets for rainwater. I mean, we’ll have to hunt down some solar panels but we can look for them while we’re loading up on food and supplies. Plus, it’s on the ocean. There’s some kind of structure out in the water. I could see it from the rooftop. Maybe like a refueling dock or something, it’s big.”
“There’s seven of us.” It’s nice to hear Felecia’s voice again, even if it is a little frail. “We got a lot to do and not much time to do it. We’ll need every fridge and freezer we can find. But with a building that size, we’ll have more than enough room. I say we put three people inside, clear a floor just like Norwood was doing. The rest of us go out and scavenge everything we possibly can.”
“Still leaves us shorthanded,” Maxwell says, looking around skeptically. “We left a bunch of people at the hospital. Some of them able bodied. We might wanna consider going back for them.”
“Able bodied, yes.” Marty cuts the engine and hops down from his farmer’s perch. “But useless as tits on a bull. Besides, we abandoned them, you think they’re gonna be okay with us just showing back up like hey we failed and now we need your help?”
“They don’t really have much of a choice,” Neil says, sounding a little more like the Neil he used to be. “They know damn well they’re dead without us, if they aren’t already. Trust me, they’ll do what I tell them to. We got Noah’s buddy, the traitor, Darius. Hansen, he’s kinda been pulling his own weight. O’Connor. Bridgette.”
“Bridgette!” Felecia and I shout at the same time. That’s her name! I had her pegged for a Suzy or a Belinda. Gertrude, Trudy of course, for short.
“They helped me get the car for you guys yesterday morning, the one you drove to the base. I mean, they held their own. Question is, do we just leave the others? Noah’s dad, Sanders, the soldier? None of us are doctors.”
“I have some medic training.” Maxwell
leans against the trailer with a sigh so heavy you’d think she were blowing on a bowl of soup. “But if we bring them along, it means I’m stuck at the base, caring for them, when I should be out helping you guys.”
“Super Soldier here just does it all, huh? We gotta start thinking about this long term,” Marty says, taking a bite out of a biscuit that looks about as dry as every girl Neil’s ever tried to please. Sorry, Norwood got me started on the Neil jokes again, it’s not an easy habit to break. “If the two stooges and the soldier pull through, are they gonna be an asset to the team?”
“Thompson will, hands down. We’ve served together for a while. The thing is, how the hell are we getting back there? We’re on the wrong side of the river and it’s not showing any sign of receding.”
Conversation turns to silence once again. I have no idea how we’re getting across. We’re assuming Sonny Valley will be deserted after they all followed us up to the dam, which will make it easy to find wheels, maybe raid a few stores along the way. But how do we get there?
We can’t wait for the water level to drop, that could take days. By then, there won’t be any electricity. We can live off canned food but I’d rather not if we don’t have to. Besides, if we wait too long, every infect that made their way up to the dam will eventually wander back down to the Valley. We barely got through there in the Stryker, so a lawnmower towing a trailer stands no chance.
“You saw that man coming down from the mountains,” Sami says, pointing at the silhouetted ridgeline. “If the guy who stole our way out of here did it, so can we. We can climb over the mountains.”
“We’re gonna have to,” Maxwell says, hands on her hips. “Wolfe made me look at it as an escape route. There’s two peaks straight ahead, little valley between. Route something or other is on the far side of the range, that’s where Buckley must have come from. But if we’re doing this, we have to commit. This is it. This means staying here, and fighting these things forever. Things that… we don’t even know what they are.”
Blood Type Infected (Book 5): The Departed Page 11