Zombies Don't Ride Motorcycles

by Melissa Leo-Pahl

  “Go! Go! Go!” Charlie hurried and pulled them all in as they poured through the door. She motioned to Byron at the three rows of shopping carts, “Push them against the doors, do it quickly.”

  Byron, her ever faithful servant, pushed three rows of carts each sixty deep. A feat that any normal person would struggle at, he made look easy. Slamming them against opened door, blocking the two hungry corpses from making their way into the store. With the main door now on lockdown, Charlie positioned Ellie, Jace, and Fayte near the cash registers. Before Charlie could tell the little girl no, all three reached their hands out to the candy still stashed on the shelves in front of them. Chocolate being the favored choice amongst the three. Charlie could only smile as she watched Fayte and Ellie lick the chocolate off their fingers while Jace had opted out of that direction and went straight to licking the wrapper.

  “Stay here with our sugar rush gang Byron, while I go and check out all the other exits. And dispatch of any stragglers that might still be in here. Stay close as you grab supplies. And wait here until I give ya the all clear.”

  Charlie ordered as she handed Byron the machete she had stashed in the sheath strapped to thigh. Without a glance back, she went about what she did best, blocking everyone out.

  ***

  Byron’s attention was quickly pulled down to the little girl tugging at the pleats of his work pants. “Uncle Byron,” Fayte whispered. He smiled. This little girl’s face was the poster picture of hope despite all the carnage he had seen so far. Her eyes betrayed her though. That self-same intellect rising from beneath her cute visage, pushed through up into her eyes. Her adult eyes pierced her childlike ones. She was comfortable with Byron. Felt she could trust him with her secret. Her mind’s gears did not turn like the toy cogs of your typical seven year old.

  She led him around the corner, but only just, nodding at Charlie’s demand that they stay close. She dug into her tiny backpack producing an unopened package of high gauge fishing wire. Fayte flashed him a devious smile. “I know Charlie’s got the store all blocked up, but we can make sure that the monsters won’t be able to get near us if they break through.” She beamed at him full of pride, but it was short lived. She dropped her smile and became quickly serious.

  “But how do we do that?” Byron asked.

  Fayte nodded as if expecting the question and answered it matter-of-factly. “We make a fence. See the all the little holes on the sides of the shelves where they can move them. We just have to run this line through the holes across the path, back and forth. It’s kinda like sewing. We run it high enough where they can’t climb over and then we can sleep safe.”

  Byron nodded. “That’s pretty smart, little girl.” It was his turn to smile appreciatively.

  “But you can’t tell the others it was my idea. Tell them it was yours. I don’t want them to know,” she whispered.

  “But why? They already know you’re smart.”

  She hesitated. “But not this smart.”

  With that, her adult eyes faded back and she brought her childlike eyes back forward. It happened so swiftly, Bryon barely had time to register what had happened. For whatever reason, this girl felt she had to hide her advanced intellect, and he felt no reason to betray the trust she had put into him. He ceased to question it further and ripped open the sealed package with ease. It must have had a weak seal. Certainly, she was a sneaky little thing, for as soon as he opened the package she had walked away to rejoin the group, removing herself from even being associated with what Byron was attempting to do. Undoubtedly, she had been playing this game for quite some time, planning her subterfuge two or three steps ahead of what everyone else was able to perceive. Her reality was much more convoluted than the ones around her. Still, her affinity for cuteness still cut to his heart.

  “I won’t tell anyone your secret.” He held his hand up someone weakly over his heart, not sure if the action was good enough.

  Fayte smiled so brightly Bryon could feel the pressure in the air build up from it.

  “And I won’t tell anyone your secret either Byron,” she whispered through little cupped hands.

  “What s-s-s-secret? I don’t have any s-s-secrets?” His look of surprise was genuine and took over his face.

  Suddenly her face grew dark and serious. “Oh, you have a secret all right. I don’t know what it is yet. But it’s bigger than mine.” With that she bounded off toward Charlie, leaving Bryon alone to finish the job that they had both started. Confused, he decided to let the matter drop and focus on making short work of the task at hand.

  ***

  Byron looked up from his musings to see the little girl standing in front of him. She held a thin package just tucked under her arm. She bit her lip trying desperately to contain her excitement.

  “Look what I found.”

  She produced the box with both hands, thrusting it in the air. The contents rattled with the motion. Byron raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “See. We can play. It will pass the time, while Jace gets better.”

  She shifted the box up to display its selling point. Emblazoned across the top was one simple word. Chess.

  “What makes you th-th-think I even know how to play?”

  Fayte raised a finger to her lips. “Shh. Secrets.”

  This forced him to smile. This girl was intuitive beyond reason. Of course, he knew how to play. He could play very well. He could not remember the last time he had partaken in the game, but he could remember championship style moves. He could think 5 to 6 moves in advance. He was just not sure where he had picked up these skills. Byron just knew he had them. This girl did not stand a chance. Maybe he should go easy on her.

  Before he could attempt to offer her any assistance, she popped the seal on the box and began setting everything up. She knew exactly where each of the pieces went, even going so far as the set up Byron’s side.

  “White or Black?”

  “White,” he answered, realizing too late that she had already shifted the white half to his side.

  This gave him the option of first move. He began with his pawns, attempting to break loose his powerful rook.

  “This is one of my favorite’s games to play,” Fayte admitted. She began moving pawns of her own. The game started off innocently enough.

  Byron realized she was positioning to get some of her own pawns out of the way, putting a couple of them in squares to force Byron to take them. He decided in that moment to not go so easy on her. He took one of her pawns out of the game, but chose to ignore the second one. Might as well make her work for it. He refused to be predictable.

  At this Fayte, made a bit of a face, knitting her eyebrows.

  “Huh,” was all she could muster. This was not going to be the beat down she expected. She had not had a decent chess partner in what felt like forever. Even her father fell to her superior leveraging of pieces only after a few games. There was so much more to Byron than just the stuttering fool he appeared to be. So much the better. She had already fallen for him as the father figure she was in such desperate need of.

  She had already planned her next four moves, but every move Byron took, shattered that expectation and she had to reformulate. This peeved her to no end, but beneath it all excited her as well. Not only did she have to consider the obvious move, she was forced to contemplate what other motives Byron was toying around with in his head. This was next level gaming she had never experienced before. She looked as Byron examined the board and only mere seconds after her last move, he leveraged his next with gusto. His moves were quick and decisive with no reservations. She was enthralled.

  Fayte shook off her enthusiasm and attempted to put on her game-face. Time to shift gears. “You are a very good chess player.” Her voice was playfully scolding.

  “Y-y-ou too.” Byron beamed. He really seemed to be enjoying the game as well.

  “You can learn a lot about someone. Just by how they play games,” she noted.

  “Oh? And what are you lea
rning about me?” Byron capitalized his question by another well placed move. Positioning him Fayte’s king in check.

  “That you are a very smart. Not very mean. And you like to play the game just for the fun of it. Winning is fun for you, but you have more fun during the game than you do at the end of it.”

  Byron smiled. “All t-t-true. I am really en-j-j-joying this game.”

  “You are very trustworthy too.”

  “You can get them just from playing a game with me?”

  Fayte nodded. “People who realizing they can’t beat me try to cheat. But you didn’t. I like that.”

  “Anything else you learned?”

  “Yes. One last thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “I learned that you are good, but I can still distract you pretty easy.”

  She highlighted this with a smile, and with her nimble fingers slid her bishop across the board putting his king in check. His own pawn still in the way of an escape, Fayte mentally notched her belt with another victory.

  “Checkmate,” she whispered.

  Charlie gathered them all in the center, at the intersection of all of the inner end caps. The smells were not quite as bad there, but still bad enough. With night approaching, there was not going to be enough light to do any decent scavenging, so they opted for just pitching camp instead. Charlie used the pallet jacks and with Byron’s help, dragged some of the heavier pallets of product to put in front of the remaining entrances. They waited until they had gathered some tents from the sporting good aisle and had fashioned them together and managed some oil lamps and a few flashlights before closing the last bit of good light.

  Ramen cup o’ noodles and Vienna sausages ended up being the meal of choice. It was fairly easy to gather a couple of Coleman grills and the gas to cook with. Charlie figured there was quite a bit they were going to be able to gather here, but knew that when morning came they were going to have to find other transportation to carry it all. When everyone was fed they all stumbled each into their tents. Fayte opted to sleep in Charlie’s tent. She had already cuddled up to her teddy bear and swaddled up in a comforter that was all her own. In moments she was out like a light. Charlie turned down the lanterns, and switched off all of the flashlights that were set up campfire style in a circle. Only Byron remained seated on a futon he had pulled up on the side.

  “You planning on catching some Z’s. We got a long day tomorrow,” asked Charlie.

  Byron shrugged. “For once I j-just don’t feel s-s-sleepy.”

  Charlie let out a sigh of relief. She was exhausted. She wanted to make sure someone stood watch over their little “campground”, and just knew it was going to be her.

  “Byron, stand watch for a couple of hours. I’m gonna nod off for a bit. Come wake me when you wanna crash yourself and I’ll watch till morning.””

  “I said I am not sleepy. You go ahead and get some rest,” he said plainly.

  “I mean it. Wake me in a couple hours. You need some rest too. “

  Byron nodded assent, but he did not even look up at her. He kept his attention on the low flickering fire in the lantern.

  “Goodnight, then.”

  “G-goodnight.”

  His eyes remained a slave to the flame.

  She ducked in the tent and tried to shake off the weirdness of him. It was not that she did not trust him. He had pretty much kept to himself ever since they got into this place. He was much quieter than normal. Maybe he was just shy with Ellie and Jace being there. These two newcomers were not your garden variety next-door neighbors. That was the truth. She could not pin it down, but she knew it was not that.

  She tried to stop thinking about it. She laid down on her side and pulled her comforter around her. Her eyes started to give in to the gravity. She blinked and let them drop. Only that tiny, sleep drunk voice brought her back to the waking world.

  “Charlie?”

  “Yes my love?” She turned and was instantly sucked into the seven year old's cute sleepy face.

  “I please sleep with you.” Fayte rubbed her eyes with the balls of her wrists.

  Charlie only had to open her blanket to answer her. The little girl was already up on her feet and tiptoed over. She snuggled in close and Charlie held her tight and drew over the covers.

  “I miss my mommy,” Fayte sniffled.

  Charlie lost the ability to speak for a moment. She had no way to comfort this child. She took a breath and settled.

  “I know you do baby. I know.” She began to tousle the little girl’s hair, and then gave her a quick kiss on the back of her head.

  “You remind me of her. A little.” This made Charlie smile and tears began to well.

  “Was she pretty?” Charlie asked.

  “Very. And she was very strong too. Until she got sick.”

  Charlie squeezed her eyes shut, damming up the tears.

  “If I slip up and call you mommy, please don’t be mad at me,” she waited.

  Charlie gave Fayte another quick kiss on her cheek and hugged her tight. “I won’t get mad, baby. I won’t get mad at all.”

  Fayte let out a final yawn and settled down into what felt like her first warm sleep in weeks. In the wake of Fayte little fingers pulling at her heartstrings, like an angel to a harp, Charlie followed suit. She was not sure how many hours had passed. Time tended to lose much of its significance when the amount people on the planet worrying about it falls to less than one percent. There were no more appointments to keep. Nothing to schedule. A soft tap on her feet roused her from her stupor. Her attempt at forty winks was interrupted somewhere around fifteen.

  “Charlie,” Byron whispered.

  She pulled herself out from under the covers and stepped out of the tent, dazed. Byron looked down on her, his face dragging. He did not need to say another word. She patted him playfully on his shoulder.

  “Tag. Your turn.” She walked around him and he slipped quietly in to take her place. She was surprised to see the Coleman grill had been pulled out again. A pot of water was set upon it, already boiling. Several water bottles laid open on the floor. A mini bag of sugar sat down between two blue-jean-ed legs. Jace was sitting there, wide awake upon a plastic filing crate. He hurriedly folded up a small leather-bound journal and pen up and shoved it behind him.

  What is this all about?

  A familiar aroma seeped tantalizing into her nostrils distracted her from the book. Her countenance fell into a quizzical glance.

  “Is that . . . coffee I smell?”

  Jace looked up from his mug and poured another steaming one and passed it over to Charlie. “Yup. Even found some evaporated milk to use as a creamer. Finding a can opener was the hard part. They never keep those things where you’d think they belong.”

  Charlie smirked. “Yeah. That is why I always carry one of these on my chain.” She thumbed the bottom of her dog-tags out from under her shirt, an army issued can opener laid against the pair of stamped aluminum. She never went anywhere without her ‘John Wayne.’

  “I’m sure it comes in handy.” He brought his cup to his mouth with two hands, steady as she had ever seen them. Jace seemed unsure himself of their own strength, or least shaky on whether they would fail him again. He paused in thought as if he had forgotten something and suddenly remembered. He produced another mug, this one emblazoned with “Real Women Don’t Have Hot Flashes, They Have Power Surges!” He gave an embarrassed grin after he poured her a cup and offered it to her.

  “Sorry about the saying. I didn’t take time to be picky in the dark. Just happy to find a cup.”

  He offered a tray with the open can of evaporated milk and an open bag of sugar. Charlie accepted and set to the task of setting up her cup before it got cold on her. She took a good long draught, savoring the heat as it burned the whole way down.

  “Ahh. That’s good Joe.” She looked up at Jace scanning him. He had been watching in earnest, waiting to see if she would accept his little olive branch. She did not let him wait long.
She nodded to him as if to say ‘We’re good’. ‘

  She had not had a cup of hot anything since before the virus struck. This was indeed a treat to be savored. If she could, help it, she would not go without coffee ever again. She sipped again, and relished in it. This was just about as good as having a hot bath. As the caffeine rushed into her veins she swore to herself that she would find a way to always have coffee on hand. She was going to be a regular Juan Valdez, always keeping her trusty pack mule with saddle bags overflowing with fresh coffee beans.

  “So,” he started as timid as he could manage. “This is all real. The world has got completely tit’s up. And all right over my head.”

  “Yeah. So where have you been? Buried in some hole somewhere?”

  “Funny that you should mention a hole. Yeah. I pretty much was. Solitary Confinement. In the rehab’s basement.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “As a heart attack. Even got the souvenirs to prove it. Tried to claw my way out.” He showed his bandaged fingers and made them dance a bit for her. The bandages were stained and ready to be changed soon.

  “So you were in the pit when the shit happened, huh?” Charlie winced as she said it. Jace nodded and took another swallow of his steaming mug.

  “Yeah, I guess I should thank them for tossing me down there. I’d be zombie bait by now if they hadn’t.”

  “You are still zombie bait. That hasn’t changed. We all are.”

  Jace tipped his coffee mug to her as if to say ‘touché’.

  Charlie hesitated, unsure in that moment what else to say. Why did she all of a sudden feel like a little shy schoolgirl? Her fingers still tied up in her mug handle, she flicked toward him and tried to break the silence again.