Never Say Die: Stories of The Zombie Apocalypse

by Stevie Kopas

  “I need to get out of here,” he said, his tongue thick in his mouth.

  Miguel’s laugh grated on Jack’s nerves. The fat man wheezed again, almost dropping his cigar as he struggled to catch his breath. He wiped spittle from his mouth and eyed Jack up and down.

  “You all look the same after your first time,” he remarked. “I don’t know about this one, Evans, I don’t think he’ll be back.” He laughed again and Evans gave him a nervous smile as he patted Layla’s thigh, signaling for her to get up.

  Miguel motioned for her to go to him and she did, avoiding Jack’s gaze. Evans shook Miguel’s hand and nodded at Jack, who didn’t need to follow behind him, he knew where the exit was. Jack tried to keep his cool, but it was hard for him not to break out into a full sprint. The air was suddenly thick and weighed heavy on his chest. He felt like the walls were closing in on him, and he was barely able to catch his breath by the time they’d reached the exit.

  As soon as Evans closed the door behind them, Jack practically flew down the rusty staircase and dropped to his knees at the bottom, retching.

  Evans remained silent, pulling a kerchief from his pocket and holding it out. Jack managed to stand and he batted the cloth away, ignoring the gesture.

  “You fucking knew about this!” Jack shouted at him.

  Evans’ eyes grew wide and he looked around, putting his hands up. “Abbot, hey man, keep your voice down.”

  Jack lunged at him, but Evans caught him by the arm and twisted it around to his back; he took Jack down to the dirty floor in one swift motion and placed a knee in the center of his back. Jack’s chest heaved, angry grunts escaping his lips. He writhed under Evans’ weight to no avail.

  “Abbot, you gotta get yourself under control.” Evans gave Jack’s arm another tug to show he was serious and Jack finally stopped struggling. “Try and kick my ass all you want to, but not here.” He looked around again to make sure they hadn’t drawn any unwanted attention. “Give me your word that you’ll cool your shit.”

  Jack said nothing, he only nodded, but Evans gave another tug on his arm and he almost yelped out in pain. “Alright!” he shouted, and finally Evans laid off him.

  His coworker put an arm out to help him up, but Jack swatted him away again. He got to his feet and made his way for the exit, Evans in tow. He pushed past the guard at the final door and heard him make a snarky remark to Evans. He almost turned around and decked the man, but he knew it was a fight he wouldn’t win.

  Once he heard the metal door slam shut and the lock slide into place, he made a run for it. His thoughts were a runaway train, images of the years of his life spent on the run flew through his head. Had it all been for nothing? Sure, he was alive. He had a wife, he had a chance at starting a new life, but what kind of life did he want to lead in a place run by people who permitted such secret atrocities? Jack could only imagine what other heinous things were condoned by the New Alliance; he knew things were fucked up, but not like this.

  When he finally felt like he might collapse and knew he was far enough away from that den of horrors, he slowed to a jog and then finally stopped altogether. He breathed hard, his hands behind his head, and he looked up at the black sky — a million stars, and yet still not enough for all the wishes he wanted to make in that moment. Evans caught up to him and they stood in silence. Jack turned his attention to his coworker and shook his head. They stared at one another for a long while, neither looking away.

  “How could you keep something like that from me?” Jack finally asked.

  “Would you have gone in there cool as a cucumber? Or would you have gotten us killed?” Evans shook his head. “Shit, you see what they got going on in there. There’s some shit worse than death.”

  “I need to get her out of there.”

  Evans’ face contorted and he threw his hands up. “How the hell do you think you’re gonna do that, Abbot? Better yet, what the hell would you do with her if you did get her out? She’s a mort! That’s not your sister anymore, you know that.”

  “Then why the hell did you bring me there?” Jack shouted, unable to contain his anger and frustration. “Why not just let it go?”

  Evans shrugged. “I don’t know, man. I just felt like you needed to know. Put the mystery to rest or somethin’. Thought you’d be able to move on with your life, stop dwelling on the Dark Years. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but you can. Maya’s gone, at least you know that now.”

  Jack wanted nothing more than to punch Evans’ teeth into the back of his throat. He felt like he didn’t even know who was standing in front of him anymore, not if Evans had been involved with those people and knew what they were doing there. Jack just wanted to get away from him, and he wanted nothing more to do with any of it.

  “I wish you would have never brought me there.” Jack began to walk away and stopped, looking over his shoulder. “I always wondered about your sick fascination with other people’s misery. I get it now. You’re a real piece of shit, Terrence.”

  Evans didn’t respond. He just watched Jack disappear into the night.

  ***

  Jack ran the water in the bathtub; forever hoping it would be hot, but always knowing it wouldn’t be. Lukewarm was the best he got, but it was still better than nothing. For fourteen years of his life, Jack had hot, running water. Though he can’t remember them now as clearly as he can remember the Dark Years, sometimes he can still feel the faint sparks, memories of a scalding bath. What he remembers the most are the months upon months of not bathing, the caked dirt on his skin and beneath his nails, his mother shaving her children’s heads to keep them from catching lice or some other pesky pests. Jack can still see the locks of his sister’s long, dark hair falling to the ground. He remembered feeling like his sister had become a completely different person that day. From that point on, she was less hopeful and more determined.

  “Survival isn’t something you hope for,” Maya had told him one night in someone else’s long-abandoned home. “It’s something you work for, and you have to work hard or else everything that you’ve been running from catches up to you and bites you in the ass.”

  He wondered if that’s what had happened to their mother. Had she begun to get too hopeful again? Had she stopped working hard enough when the infected got their nasty hands on her? And what about Maya? He didn’t remember anyone in his whole life ever working hard enough to survive. It must have been when she was taken. She must have begun to hope for help that would never come.

  He stepped into the bath and sat down, the tiny tub barely fitting his large frame. He slumped forward and splashed the room-temperature water onto his face. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw those rotted teeth snapping around that gag. He saw his sister, chained in that festering room, and he felt the pain of her miserable existence. He’d promised himself on the way home that he’d forget about it, that he’d get transferred to a different garage in the morning and avoid Evans altogether. He’d find a way to move on from this — he’d seen and experienced much worse in his life — but no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that maybe Evans had been right, that maybe he could put it behind him now that the mystery of what had become of Maya had been put to rest, he just couldn’t accept what was happening to her. He couldn’t accept that his sister was gone and that it was okay for men to fuck her rotting, infected corpse.

  He also couldn’t forget that he’d promised her he’d make it right. Right before he’d put that awful, stinking bag back over her head.

  ***

  The following day Jack didn’t ask to be transferred to a different garage. He went to work like nothing had happened. He even greeted Evans just like he always did. He carried on as he normally would, fixing this, doing that, and then finally, when it was lunch time, he pulled a couple of smokes out of his pocket and asked Evans to join him around back.

  Evans couldn’t wipe the perplexed look off his face. He knew Jack was up to something just from the nonchalant way he’d been b
ehaving all morning. He accepted a cigarette from him and lit it up, leaning against the brick building.

  “What’s up, Evans?” Jack asked, lighting up his rolled cigarette.

  Evans took a long drag and chuckled. “Get to the point, Abbot. You didn’t ask me to come smoke with you to shoot the shit.”

  “Fair enough.” Jack shrugged. “I want you to bring me back.”

  Evans choked on his smoke, coughing hard. “No fuckin’ way.”

  “I’m serious, Evans. I want you to bring me back there.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Abbot. Why? Why would you go back?”

  “I just want to see her again. I need to see her again.”

  Evans shook his head and threw his barely-smoked cigarette down to the ground, stepping on it. He looked at Jack, a mixture of pity and worry on his face. “It’s not a good idea. You’ll end up doing something stupid and getting both of us into a world of shit. I can’t risk it.”

  Before Evans could walk away, Jack grabbed his arm and squeezed hard, digging his nails into his flesh.

  “What the fuck, man?” Evans tried to pull away, but Jack’s grip tightened.

  “I mean it, Evans. I need you to take me back there or I will do something stupid.”

  He finally gave Jack a hard shove and the man stumbled back a few paces before regaining his footing.

  “Fine, you want back in? Then you pay up front, asshole.” He inspected his arm. Jack hadn’t broken the skin but he could still see the marks from his fingernails, there’d definitely be some bruising. “And you do anything fuckin’ stupid, I’ll kill you myself, never mind Miguel or one of his thugs.”

  ***

  Evans kept his word and brought Jack back for another visit to Miguel’s place, and this time Jack was the one paying for the visit. And boy, did he pay. Aside from his weekly food and supply rations, Jack barely brought home $100 a week for anything else. Most of that was pooled together with Scarlet’s earnings and they spent it sparingly on things like soap or deodorant. Jack had always kept a stash of extra money to himself, building it up little by little each time he was paid. Scarlet worked at one of the only bars in town and so a lot of the time he was able to score free drinks. A decent bottle of liquor, though, was usually more than half of what he brought home. Things weren’t cheap in NoLa, not by a long shot, but the cost of time to spend with his sister… that was priceless to Jack. He coughed over the $800 to Evans, cringing as the money left his hand. If Scarlet knew, she’d leave him for sure.

  The first time he went back to see her, Jack wept at his sister’s feet; he was still in disbelief at how she could have succumbed to such an awful fate. The mort before him always screeched, always lunged at him. He considered the fact that perhaps she really was no longer his sister, but as he’d stare into those coal-black eyes, he swore he would catch a glimpse of who she used to be, he was reminded of the unbreakable bond he once shared with her. Then, when he’d leave that room and all those judging eyes were on him, he was reminded of the gravity of the situation. His sister was a mort, a mort that people used for sex. In the twisted world they all inhabited in the time after the Dark Years, it was a depraved enough act that disgusted even the prostitutes, drug addicts, and other shameful folk that frequented Miguel’s. Jack was beginning to grow numb to those stares and whispers. He knew the truth of why he was there. They were no better than him, especially if they knew what Miguel was keeping in that room and did nothing about it.

  Jack began to behave more and more aloof; he was pulling away from Scarlet and she didn’t understand why. Over the next few weeks, to his wife’s dismay, Jack picked up extra shifts and was rarely home, he was even doing odd jobs here and there for other businesses in the neighborhood. Anything to score extra cash to return to Miguel’s. And return he did, five more times before he was completely out of cash, exhausting both his and Scarlet’s funds.

  She discovered the missing money after she finished her shift one night. Jack wasn’t home, as per the recent usual, and she silently seethed in their tiny living room, choosing to give up on getting some much needed sleep to wait for his return. It was nearly dawn when Jack finally walked through the door. He didn’t notice his wife sitting in the dark on the small, worn out loveseat.

  Scarlet struck a match and Jack jumped, startled by the sudden noise. She lit a cigarette and then used the match to light two candles beside her on an end table. They stared at one another in silence for a moment, neither desiring to confront the elephant in the room.

  “Where were you?” Scarlet asked, her voice stern.

  Jack said nothing, instead sighing. He knew this moment would come. After all that he’d already lost over the years, he’d now lose his wife due to his poor judgment and inability to accept the truth.

  “Answer me!” Scarlet demanded, louder this time.

  It was then that Jack broke down, collapsing to the dingy floor of their apartment. His shoulders shook with sobs that he choked out between gasping breaths. Scarlet rushed to him, confusion and concern overwhelming her, her anger subsiding.

  “Jack, please, tell me what’s going on.” She attempted to soothe her husband, holding his head in her hands. He continued to weep, wails escaping his lips as he tried to muster up the courage to tell his wife the truth. “Please, look at me. Please tell me what’s going on,” Scarlet begged him, tears forming in her own eyes. She couldn’t stand to see her husband in this much pain.

  “I found her,” he managed to say at last. “I found my sister.”

  He folded himself into his wife’s embrace and she clutched him tightly. Her eyes were wide, and so many questions ran through her head. How, why, where… was she alive or dead? What was she doing in the city and why hadn’t she sought out her brother as he had done her? The questions finally left her head and manifested themselves as words and Jack confessed everything to her. Scarlet was too shocked to react or speak, a myriad of emotions coursed through her and paralyzed her. The couple remained on the floor for quite some time, dawn peeking through the windows and casting light into the tense room.

  “How could someone do that?” Scarlet whispered, her voice hoarse.

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Jack squeezed his wife’s hand, remorse in his voice.

  “No,” she said, pulling his chin up so she could look into his eyes. “No, not you. How could someone keep a mort in the city like that? Use it like that…” her voice trailed off and she shuddered at the thought of men actually putting themselves inside an infected. How anyone could experience pleasure from something like that, or worse, how anyone could put themselves in the same room as one of the monsters that had ended the world was beyond her comprehension.

  “I’m so sorry, Scarlet,” Jack sobbed. “I love you so much. I’m an idiot.”

  “Ssh, it’s okay.” She kissed him and pressed her forehead against his, closing her eyes.

  From the moment he’d told her the truth, she’d forgiven him. She didn’t care about the money — this ran much deeper than that — she cared about Jack, he was all that mattered. She once thought herself fortunate to be in such a safe and civilized place, but now she realized that NoLa was no safer or better than the wastes. The New Alliance was a part of what caused her husband so much pain. The New Alliance was a part of something that put the entire populace at risk. If that thing ever got out of that room, if it even scratched one of those men that went in there… it would all come crumbling down around them.

  “Let’s leave,” she said to Jack.

  A crease formed in his brow and he narrowed his eyes. “Leave?”

  She nodded. “It’s no good for you to stay here, not with knowing what happened to Maya. And I don’t want to live in a place that allows something like this.”

  He shook his head and looked down. “Scar, we have no more money. We have no more money and it’s all my fault.”

  “Stop, don’t say that.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “I’ve been here a lot longer than you. I’ve g
ot my own secret stash, and I know someone who runs the boats these days. He comes in to the bar all the time. I can afford to sneak us out of here.”

  Jack stared at her and considered what she had said. He wanted nothing more than to get out of there, to be with his wife, just the two of them. To not owe anything to anyone or work his ass off for meager meals and worry about the heavy hand of the New Alliance.

  “Where would we go? Back out into the wastes?” he asked.

  “There are rumors about another settlement in New Mexico. We could leave tonight. There are less and less morts out there all the time. We’ve both been through the shit. We haven’t gone soft. We can take care of ourselves out there, make it to this other settlement. Anywhere has got to be better than here, Jack.”

  “And what if these rumors are just that? Rumors? What then?”

  She shrugged and smiled. “This place was just a rumor once.”

  He pulled Scarlet into him and closed his eyes, inhaling her scent deeply. “There’s just one thing I need to take care of.”

  ***

  Scarlet protested, as Jack knew she would, but he couldn’t leave without putting an end to his sister’s misery. Whether or not Maya was aware of what was happening to her didn’t matter. Jack knew, and he would keep his promise to her, he would make things right.

  He assured Scarlet that he’d built up enough trust with Miguel to be able to sneak a weapon in. He spent so much money there over the last few weeks that Miguel was actually happy to see him when he’d walk through the door. Jack had learned that there was one thing that the fat man liked more than his own whores: a paying customer. Jack hadn’t been patted down the last two times he’d paid a visit and he was willing to bet this time would be no different. Scarlet had just enough money to pay off her contact at the docks and for Jack to see Maya one last time. Jack brought his wife’s bowie knife, giving her his gun just in case things didn’t go as planned. She fought him hard on this one, but he’d finally convinced her that, if he didn’t make it to the docks on time, she had to go without him. It meant she was no longer safe in the city. They parted ways with a passionate kiss and a promise that they’d see each other again soon.