by Stevie Kopas
Shots rang out from the main road to the north, startling Francis and causing him to choke. He coughed hard and jumped up, knocking the black desk chair over behind him. He stumbled, still coughing, over to the ledge to get a better look. A huge Dodge Ram, raised with a lift kit, was barreling down the highway, weaving in and out of abandoned cars. Five people were in the truck bed, shooting at the dead that they passed. “Holy shit.” Francis bounded over to the roof hatch and threw himself on his belly, he stuck his head down into the hole and called out, “Ya’ll get up here! Now!” He returned to the spot he previously stood in and watched as two extremely fast eaters ran into the path of the truck. The driver plowed into one of them but the second leapt onto the hood, howling and punching the windshield.
“What the hell’s going on?” Michelle jogged up behind Francis, her hair in foils atop her head. Lulu, Desmond, and Catherine followed closely behind her.
Francis pointed out at the truck, now swerving, the driver attempting to get the eater off his windshield. One of the passengers, a man, let out a cry as he was thrown from the truck bed. The cluster of eaters in pursuit of the truck were soon upon him, ripping him apart, feasting on him. One of the women in the truck began screaming out to him, another passenger struggled with her as she tried to jump from the moving vehicle.
“Oh my god! We have to do something!” Lulu’s eyes were wet with tears, her hands covered her mouth as she watched the scene unfold.
“We can’t, Lu.” Michelle shook her head and winced as the driver finally lost control of the enormous redneck truck and flipped it. The eater on the windshield went flying off into the ditch on the side of the road. One of men in the bed was able to escape the truck as it rolled, the remaining passengers were crushed. The survivors on the roof looked on in awe, even from their distance they were able to see blood as it splattered in all directions and limbs as they were torn from the passengers’ bodies. The eaters nearest to the wrecked vehicle were upon it in no time, like vultures on road kill they picked apart the remains, squawking and screeching. The dead seemed to almost fight with one another over the best parts. The man who had jumped from the tumbling Dodge had clearly suffered an injury to his left leg. He attempted to shoot at the eaters who were quickly gaining on him but kept falling to his knees, missing shots he probably would have hit dead on if he had been in better condition. The eaters had him fenced in now, with nowhere to go and realizing this was it for him, the last remaining survivor from the Dodge Ram with the lift kit raised his gun to his head and blew his brains out, his body soon to be devoured by the festering mouths of the dead.
That final shot cracked through the air and Lulu felt as if it had gone straight through her heart. Desmond caught her as her legs turned to jelly. She collapsed in his arms, mumbling incomprehensibly. “Lulu? Lulu, can you hear me?” He laid her down flat on the roof and she stared up blankly at the sky. “Lulu, it’s very important you answer me, ok?”
“I- I can’t.” She stammered, still staring blankly. “We let them die.”
Catherine dropped down beside her, “She’s fine, Des.” Catherine pulled Lulu up and draped her sweater over her shoulders. “Lulu, look at me, sweetie, look at me.” Lulu’s dark eyes finally focused on Catherine’s. “There was nothing we could do without putting ourselves in danger. Nothing.” Lulu broke down into hysterical sobbing.
“Get her inside, now! Before she draws those things back over here!” Michelle barked at Catherine. Her blood boiled; just when she thought Lulu was finally getting it together, she has another breakdown. She pulled the foils from her hair and threw them angrily over the ledge, the breeze carrying them off. The sun was still barely in the sky and she watched as things that were once people fed on the recently deceased. Their small victory from this afternoon was nothing but a distraction from the hell they were living in. She stared at the wrecked truck for a moment before looking at Francis. She studied him, how he kept looking from the wreck to the hatch and back to the wreck again. He began to walk toward the roof’s exit but she stopped him. “That gun you have, was it yours?”
“What?” He spun around and faced her. The question didn’t register right away. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, that’s mine. Why?”
“You got any more?”
“Nah. Not here.” He scratched his scalp through his shortly cropped hair, looking down at his feet. “Sounds stupid, but, I didn’t think this thing, whatever it is, was gonna be so serious. Only brought the one with me.”
She slowly nodded and waved him away, remaining on the roof by herself, the lone member in the audience of a horrific production. She stayed there until she could no longer make out the feasting figures in the dark. They ate right down to the bone. Once they got their hands on you, one of two things happened: you join them, unless you were fortunate enough to have someone put a bullet in your head…or you were nothing, ever again, but an unrecognizable corpse that nobody ever gave another thought to. Michelle promised herself she would never succumb to either fate, that no matter what, she came first. She felt a small flutter in her stomach as she realized she liked very much the thought of a world that revolved around her.
X
A few short weeks had passed before Michelle woke up one morning and couldn’t take the cabin fever anymore. The power had gone out, the water stopped running, they’d done all they could to fortify the building. All the windows had been painted with a double coat of multicolored spray paint and the front doors to all the stores were reinforced with bike locks. One way in, one way out. Desmond and Francis went on another run, pretty much emptying Target’s pharmacy and anything else useful in the store. The group made their own weapons, Lulu went through intense therapy sessions with Catherine, who they all found out had a strong background in psychiatry before she moved on to internal medicine. Michelle spent the majority of her time alone, either in the deluxe spa room or on the roof, soaking in the apocalypse.
Since the Dodge Ram incident, Michelle stood by idly as she watched more clusters of other survivors meet their demise. She never alerted the others, she wanted the catastrophe all to herself. She studied their actions, where they went wrong, and learned from it all. To her own dismay, she found herself silently cursing the few groups that managed to make it past Emerald Park unscathed. The ones that dare venture into Emerald Park, those were her favorite. This was not their shopping center, they had no right to be here. She made sure Francis locked every door to every store in their vicinity on his last run. She watched with excitement as people ran frantically from shop to shop, trying to find a way in, certain death snapping at their heels. A few times, though she’d never admit it to anyone if they asked, she even aided the eaters, throwing handfuls of small rocks from the roof in the direction of the panicked stragglers.
On the particular morning that Michelle decided she needed more, it was an absolutely beautiful day. She brushed her teeth and washed her face with distilled water before exiting the salon to find the others. They chatted loudly in the vitamin shop, they’d taken to eating meals there since the café no longer served a purpose and was reduced to a bathroom.
“Hey!” Lulu cheerfully greeted Michelle and tossed her an unopened pack of pop tarts. Michelle nodded her thanks and grabbed a bottle of water from a shelf.
“What’s up Michelle? How’d you sleep?” Francis sloppily chomped on a bowl of cereal and water. It made her stomach turn.
“Oh, it was great, just like The Ritz Carlton. Amazing.” She smirked as she spoke, she knew the others enjoyed her sarcasm.
They had a good laugh and continued breakfast, Desmond helping his wife clean up afterward. Michelle sat quietly, waiting for Lulu to retreat to one of the other stores to do her morning workout routine before she brought up the subject of leaving again.
“I thought we decided on that last run so we didn’t have to go out again so soon?” Francis addressed her.
“Yes. We did. But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” She leaned forward in the desk chai
r she sat on. “Trust me, a lot of thinking.”
“And?”
“And it’s inevitable. We have to go back out. There’s that gun shop you were telling me about that’s not too far from here. We need weapons.”
“We have weapons, Michelle. Why put ourselves at risk for guns?” Catherine crossed her arms over her chest.
“Are you serious right now?” She looked at Desmond. “Come on, help me out here. Fatty’s out of bullets and this whole thing is fucked if someone was to try and take it from us.”
“Hey, enough with the fat shit.” Francis snapped at her. Michelle put a hand up and made a face.
“Michelle has a point.” Desmond looked at his wife and then at Francis, who was visibly angry. “We haven’t been thinking about other people. Real people, who are living and breathing. Actually dangerous. All this would be for nothing if we ran into a bunch of bad apples. Let the wrong one in, ya know?” Michelle looked pleased, she nodded at him in approval.
Catherine uncrossed her arms and rubbed her sweating palms on her pants. “Well, once you get the gears rollin’, there’s no stoppin’ you.” She planted a sweet kiss on her husband’s cheek. “I’m not going. I’m assuming there’s a reason Lulu isn’t here for this conversation. So I’ll hang back here with her.”
Michelle and Desmond looked at Francis expectantly. He exhaled loudly and shrugged his shoulders.
“Come on.” Michelle encouraged him. “Lighten up, Francis.”
“What am I gonna say? No? We’ll take my truck. It’s full of gas.”
Michelle jumped up and clapped him on the back. “Yes!”
The three of them were prepared for the quick trip in no time. Catherine went to her usual spot on the roof to ready a distraction. The group downstairs heard the music begin to blare and Lulu reluctantly inched the door open, peeking outside. Michelle gently pushed her aside and shot her a look, “Don’t be bitter about this.” Lulu said nothing in response as Michelle exited the building, followed by Desmond. Francis gave her a quick hug and a tender smile before he turned his back to her and she quietly pulled the door closed.
The trio snaked around the back of the building and reached the corner beside the vitamin store. Francis pointed out his truck parked across the street, a mere 15 feet from where Michelle’s car had gone crashing through the storefronts. They sprinted for the truck, footsteps echoing painfully all around them. They had only seconds to make it. For once, Michelle had trusted Francis. Even though he was overweight by about a good 60 pounds, the guy could run when he needed to. He was the first to make it to the truck and it made a chirping sound, unlocking the four door cab. Michelle and Desmond made it in just as the dead grew dangerously close. Francis turned the key in the ignition and it clicked in response. “Come on, beautiful.” Francis spoke gently to his Chevy, turning the key once more. The engine roared to life and he threw the truck in reverse, just in time to slam into an eater approaching from behind. Francis felt his back left tire roll over its body and gave it no extra thought. They hit about 6 more eaters as they exited Emerald Park at an alarming speed. Michelle’s heart was racing, adrenaline searing through her body. She turned around in the backseat and watched the eaters fade in the distance as Francis drove west in the eastbound lane. She cried out enthusiastically, grabbing both men in the front seat by their shoulders. They grinned, encouraged by her intensity.
The seven miles to the gun shop were talkative ones. Francis was obviously educated on his firearms and was talking incessantly. Michelle listened in and out, distracted by the outside world. Desmond joined the conversation, reminiscing about hunting trips. Francis pulled off the main road and took them down a deserted side street. “Back roads are the best.” He said casually. The black Chevy turned off again and bounced down a dirt road, finally coming to a stop amidst the underbrush and tall pines. Desmond and Michelle both looked a little confused. “We leave the truck here. Seems like we didn’t attract any attention so we keep it that way.” Francis nodded at the windshield, “We’re on the road behind the old strip mall. It ain’t even a quarter mile from here.”
Desmond nodded and gathered his bags from the floorboards. “Good thinkin’ man.” Michelle silently agreed.
They made their way up the dirt road, not hastily, but it wasn’t a stroll in the park either. Francis couldn’t help but keep thinking what a nice day it was. The temperature was perfect for this time of year. It was so quiet, quieter than he’d ever heard the world. He could hear the gulf waves slapping the shore from where he was standing. He smiled to himself, even under their circumstances. He imagined being able to walk on those beaches safely again one day; toes digging into the soft white sand, listening to the gentle tide roll in and toasting a glass of champagne to the sunset. To everyone else, Francis was a dumb hillbilly, but on the inside, he liked to pride himself on being hopelessly in love with nature.
The tiny strip mall housed a gun shop, a deli and a liquor store. They approached the rear of the small building and scanned the area. Not a soul, dead or alive, to be seen. “How are we going to get in?” Michelle asked in a hushed voice. “These are all fire doors, same as at Emerald Park.”
“Not quite. Look a little closer and you’ll see.” Michelle could see the surface mounted deadbolt from where they were crouched. “Who the hell wants to break into a gun store in the south? They’d be stupid as hell to try, I tell you what.” Francis snickered as he and Desmond went to work breaking the lock off the door. Michelle wandered off around the side of the building, keeping her wits about her, making sure there was never anything lurking nearby. She tried her luck on the first door of the liquor store. She chuckled as the door opened toward her. She ignored the middle storefront, she had no use for the deli. She gave a slight tug on the gun shop’s door and stepped inside. The place had definitely been torn apart which disappointed her, but there was definitely plenty left to go round. She smelled nor heard any signs of the dead in the store and quickly made her way to back door before Francis and Desmond made any more noise and got themselves killed. She startled the two men when she unlocked the deadbolt and pushed the door out. They both shook their heads and followed her in.
“I’m gonna check out the liquor store boys, any requests?”
“Tequila!” Desmond called out, buried in some box.
“I’m good.” Francis hollered.
Michelle headed to the liquor store, a bounce in her step, almost a skip. As she pulled the door open she paused and looked back at the center shop, the deli. She listened intently, she had sworn she heard the clicking of a lock. After a minute of no surprises she shrugged it off and stepped inside. To her dismay the liquor store had been ransacked. Broken bottles of alcohol lie strewn about, glass crunched under her feet as she stepped into the darkness of the store. A few remaining bottles were left untouched on their shelves and she stuffed them into her backpack, she didn’t care what they were. She made her way through the aisles, completely unaware that someone was silently following her through the store. She stopped at the front register and grabbed a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and lighting it up. She coughed and laughed at herself, she had been trying so hard, even in the apocalypse, to not smoke.
Her heart skipped a beat and she froze, the cigarette falling from her lips to the filthy floor. She heard the click first, immediately followed by the hard barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her head. Her hands flew up on either side of her in surrender. She felt the gun come off of her and heard a man instruct her to turn around. Very slowly, she did as he asked, all the while forcing crocodile tears from her eyes. She locked eyes with the man. He was filthy and she was surprised she hadn’t smelled him sooner. He wore camouflage hunting apparel with a red bandana tied around his right bicep.
“Please, I mean you no harm.” She told him, her voice shaking.
“What are you doing here?” The man asked her, his gun still trained on her face.
“I’m thirsty, and I’m hungry.” She l
ied.
“You alone?” He glanced quickly out the storefront windows to the right of him.
“Yes.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Please, I’m scared, and alone. I got separated from my group.” She allowed a sob to escape her lips. “Please don’t do this to me.”
It felt like an eternity before the man spoke again, his face remained expressionless until he finally dropped the gun and set it down on the small counter that separated him from Michelle. He took a deep breath and scratched at his dirty hair with even dirtier fingernails. “Mind if I have one of those?” He eyed the cigarettes and she kindly smiled at him, offering him one. He took it from her. “Do you have any supplies with you?” She shook her head no. He rolled the cigarette around between his fingers. “I tell you what, I got a small camp just north of here. There aren’t many of us, we don’t have much. But I’m not gonna just leave you here.”
Michelle feigned happiness and wiped her fake tears from her face. “Oh thank God, thank you so much. Did you come here by yourself? To find others? Like me?”
He picked the lighter up from the counter and nodded his head. “Not exactly to find others, but we pick up who we can along the way. You know how to use a gun?” He placed the cigarette in his mouth and sparked the lighter, bowing his head for a split second to touch it to the flame.