by M. D. Massey
Victoria tried to interrupt and beg her off that line of thinking, but she allowed none of it.
“No, no, it's OK. I can be honest about myself. He feels like he has to take care of me now that his father isn't around, and my nurse was taken by this plague. It's natural that a young man with his character would feel that way.”
Victoria nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but she still wouldn’t allow it.
Marty continued. “I want to share something with you. Woman to woman. I hope this isn’t too forward. Liam is the type of young man that would do anything to save someone he loves. He may not be able to distinguish between real love and infatuation as well as an older man, but you've surely seen flashes of his selflessness already. I'm asking you to ensure Liam doesn't do anything too heroic if it looks like I'm not going to make it. Again, I'm honest with myself—I don't have that long left, no matter how this whole affair plays out. He does. You do.”
Victoria’s lips were pressed tight.
“Liam thinks I'm pretty helpless these days, and I guess I can only blame myself. I've come to rely heavily on my nurse for many things I once could do on my own. Maybe I let her do more than I should, merely because I've gotten lazy in my recent years. But I'm going to tell you a little secret that I haven't told anyone.”
Victoria leaned in. Marty wore a conspiratorial smile on her face as if she were enjoying the moment.
“The other day, Liam got beat up by a bad man trying to rob us. Liam and his impatience to save me led him to a bad decision. The man pulled Liam out of our car and was getting ready to hurt him. Kill him, I think.”
“He told me something about that. He said some good Samaritan must have come along just in time, shot the man who was assaulting the two of you and then left while Liam was still unconscious.”
She laughed. “Well, I didn't tell him what really happened. I used his other gun—the one you have now—to shoot that man. I fired three times. The robber never knew what hit him. It was the first time I ever murdered someone—” She knew that wasn't an accurate statement. She smacked her lips as she thought of the right phrase. It wasn't murder to kill in self-defense. “It was the first time I killed someone. It was very disturbing to take a life.”
Forgive me Lord. I was happy to save Liam, not happy to kill that man.
Victoria let out a quiet whistle; she was impressed.
“I don't have much strength left in me, but Liam's dad fixed those guns so even a weakling like me could fire them. I just set the barrel on the frame of the car door, aimed, and let 'er rip like I did all those years ago. It wasn't hard at all.”
Her voice turned serious. “The crook fell down but crawled behind the car. Even with the gun, I was scared. The hardest part was that I had no strength to get out and tend to Liam. I let him lay there on the ground. Out cold. Time went by and I couldn't hold the gun anymore, and I figured the crook was dead, so I put it back in the backpack, and fell asleep. I have no idea how long we were both out. He came to at some point. Climbed back in. And away we went. Liam was none the wiser about what I'd done.”
“Why didn't you tell him? Wouldn't he be proud of you?”
“I go back and forth. I guess I feel, at this point, I'm old enough I don't want him to get ideas about doing crazy things to save me because he sees me as some heroic granny.”
“Well, you are pretty heroic!”
“This,” she swept her arms to signify she was talking about the world at large, “isn't about heroics. It's about carefully thinking how to survive. Nothing is going to be easy ever again. Security. Food. Shelter. You can't just run around the world shooting guns and being heroic. Eventually, it's going to catch you. They,” she pointed off into the distance behind the train, “will catch you.”
She waited a long time again before sharing her last piece of advice. “I didn't tell him I shot that man because Liam won't survive this world if he thinks there will always be someone there to take care of him.” She said it in a most serious tone but ended on a lighter note. “Even if there is.” She turned and gave Victoria her trademark wink.
As the train continued along the tracks, the sun started to make its presence known, though it was still below the horizon. They were able to see the graffiti-covered factories and industrial barge facilities on the right-of-way down the west bank of the Mississippi River.
Both of them saw Liam sitting at the very rear of the platform, looking back toward downtown.
“I hope this isn't too much of an intrusion, but I'm old and don't have time for subtlety anymore.” She chuckled at that.
“Liam is quite taken with you. I imagine you’ve figured that out. You are very pretty, of course, and you have a good heart. I have my reasons for liking you.” She reached out and touched Victoria’s arm. “Any boy his age would find you quite the catch. Usually, I wouldn't even think of saying this, but times are not normal by any stretch of the imagination.”
“Amen,” Victoria replied in a soft voice.
“I sincerely hope you and Liam become good friends, and that you'll be in his life a long time. But, while I'm still around, please know that if Liam is ever forced to make a choice between saving you or saving me, I'm going to make sure he picks you. Do you understand what I'm saying, my dear?”
Victoria paused, slowly nodded, then added, “Thank you. Truly. We have been through so much already. Romance isn't really on my mind right now. Maybe if we get somewhere safe where I can think about more than zombies, looters, or the plague, we can talk about the future. We just have to make sure Liam never gets put into that position where he has to choose. I want us all to survive and be happy.”
“So do I, dear. So do I.”
But Marty had laid it down. And now that she had, she couldn't help but wonder if she had the strength to make good on the implications of her statement. She always came back to suicide. Her religion forbade killing oneself; it was considered a major sin. But if the choice came down to saving herself or saving Liam and Victoria by sacrificing herself, she believed God would understand her motives.
Dear Lord. Please help Liam and Victoria survive this plague.
She studied Liam and wondered what he was thinking. Far behind, shapes shambled in the morning shadows.
Will the zombies follow us?
Sunrise on day four was minutes away.
16
The Tenth Circle of Hell
Liam sat and stared behind the train over the next few miles of track as the sun edged up to the horizon. They departed the warehouse district and moved into a more residential area of apartment buildings and small houses. It was still urban St. Louis, but there were now more trees and less human presence, including zombies, along the rail route next to the river.
Almost without thinking, he slid his phone out to check network status. The soft glow of the screen gave him no comfort because it was still unable to get a signal, so he shoved it away again.
Deep and serious thoughts crowded his mind and he was heavy with worry about what would happen next, but when the first rays of the sunshine hit the train, a female voice cried out in song.
“Oh, say can you see, by the dawn’s early light … ”
The woman’s voice was beautiful, but Liam wasn’t able to see her because she was on a different train car. Her voice resonated over the noisy engine and echoed off a low, rocky cliff on his left, and the sleepy, brown river on his right.
“…bombs bursting in air … ”
A few others joined in, and soon there was a chorus fitting of a baseball game.
The song reached it’s crescendo and he joined in for the last line: “… land of the free and home of the brave!”
“Play ball!” someone shouted from nearby.
Almost immediately after his spirits rose with that taste of normalcy, the train lurched in deceleration. He hoped to enjoy the sunrise while riding the train to safety, but they weren’t out of the city, yet, so they couldn’t be anywhere good.
; They'd been moving at ten or fifteen miles per hour, still pushing the dead engine in front, but thankfully it was much too fast for the zombies to keep up. They sometimes came stumbling out of the buildings on his left as they walked for the train, but they fell behind, screaming when they missed the rolling stock of humans rumbling by.
I wonder if they'll follow us, even if they can't see us?
Another mystery of the Zombie Apocalypse.
He stood up and moved around the tractor-trailer to see why the train was stopping. It slowed as it approached the underside of the Jefferson Barracks Bridge, which carried a major interstate across the Mississippi River. It was also the most southern bridge in the St. Louis area and was the last bridge over the river for many miles to the south, as far as he could recall. No cars crossed it now, though some soldiers sat on the span; a few looked over the side down to him. Not too far above the bridge, two small, thin aircraft—drones?—flew in circles.
He walked over to Victoria and Grandma, both still sitting near the wheels of the front trailer.
The early morning ambient light put Victoria in a soft glow that was almost magical. Sure, she was pretty in any light, but right now, covered in lots of dust and dirt from yesterday’s ordeals, she made Liam's heart level up. The light even took the harsh swelling of her lip and cheek and evened them out.
He wondered if she liked him, or merely tolerated being there because she had no better prospects in this catastrophe. The insecure side of his heart said she wouldn't have given him the time of day in any other situation, but the pragmatist said she's had plenty of opportunities to ditch him and Grandma and traipse off with people and groups more prepared than them.
On balance, he accepted that she probably stuck with him because she liked him, at least as a friend. A “fall-of-civilization friend.” They made a good team so far, and there was no reason to doubt she was going to stick with him for as long as it took to reach a safe destination—assuming one could ever be found. What would she do if they never found a safe landing spot? What if they had to be together for much longer?
All right, Liam. Stay focused on the here and now.
He finished his thought by agreeing with himself that indeed, she was pretty.
“You two look like you're conspiring,” he said as he approached Victoria and Grandma.
They had been conversing in low tones, but he was unable to glean any sense of what was said because they clammed up before he was close enough.
“Hey, Liam. Grandma and I were just talking about when you were a little baby. How you'd wear your diapers. That sort of thing.” She gave Grandma a smile and turned and flashed Liam a big grin and a wink.
He was near to feigning embarrassment when he saw her face had become black and blue in many spots. She had two black eyes to go with her cheek and swollen lips.
He still thought she was beautiful, but he was serious when he knelt down to look at her. “My god, your face. Are you doing OK?”
“Thanks. Yeah, I'm fine. It still hurts a bunch, but I have both my eyes, and my face will return to normal soon enough. I'll take it if it's the worst that happens to me this trip.”
He had a dark vision of that man punching this girl's face, and a wave of violent rage swept over him, a burning desire to track the man down and … When he realized that man was probably dead, the violence ebbed. A little.
“I don't have any serious meds to help you. Just some ibuprofen. Can't hurt, right?” He dug in his pack, pulled out some rust-colored caplets and passed them to her. She put them in her mouth one at a time and swallowed each one without water.
“Do you know why they're stopping the train?” she asked after downing the last one.
“I think the Army is involved. I can see them up on the bridge. What would they want with a train full of refugees?”
Victoria looked at Grandma and made sure she was comfortable, then stood next to him so she could see, too. She gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder. “Let's go check it out.”
“Shouldn’t we wait?” he said with surprise.
“You want to know what’s happening, right?” Victoria replied.
“Of course.”
“The answer is that way,” she added as she stepped down the nearest ladder.
Liam passed a bemused look to Grandma and she waved him to go follow the girl in the black dress.
There were no undead in the immediate area. This piece of railroad throughway was mostly muddy riverbank on one side, and a steep escarpment covered in trees on the other. He knew, by the location of the bridge, the area up the hill was the massive Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery. As a fan of zombie books and movies, he noted the irony that the one place you don't find them in real life is the cemetery. Zombies don't rise from the dead, nor do they find living people hanging out there. Maybe that's where they should hide?
There were a few walkers well behind the train, but otherwise, it looked pretty safe to step off. A few men and women ran back to provide security for everyone.
He jumped down to be next to Victoria.
Jones called down to the pair to ask where they were going, but once they told him, he laughed. “I'll stay back here. Someone has to keep your Grandma from running off, too!”
“Nobody's tossing Grandma,” she said from behind the tire with a good deal of humor.
People up the line of train cars had the same idea. They took the opportunity to stretch their legs and get out of the cramped cars. Many had climbed into empty coal cars for last night’s escape and now tried to trade up to options with more room. A good number found the middle flatcar, while others chose to sit on the highest points of the graffiti-covered boxcars.
Liam noticed a man drift further outside the orbit of the crowd, then continue into the woods. He was apparently going to climb the escarpment to gain access to the bridge above them.
“Is that your friend Hayes?” Victoria asked, pointing to the same loner.
“It kind of looks like him.”
They walked up to the front of the train, where the passengers were thickest. Liam pointed to a small trail leading up the fifty-foot hillside. Whoever they’d spotted going up this hill would be easy to follow on such an obvious pathway. The man was already very near the top.
“That's got to be Hayes.” He was sure of it now that he could see the man's clothing. The same suit pants and shirt. He couldn't see it from this direction, but he could visualize his ugly tie.
“Do you think he stopped the train?” Victoria asked.
“No idea, but what if he knows how we can get out of the city. Maybe he arranged for us to cross here to safety?”
“I told you answers were this way,” she said with assurance before starting up the trail.
* * *
2
It wasn’t easy for Victoria to scale the steep path in her broken-heeled shoes, but they still made good time. As they reached the top of the hillside, level with the decking of the bridge, they moved cautiously so as not to be seen by the military. Liam didn't think Hayes ever turned around to check if anyone was following, but they couldn't make any assumptions.
“I guess we can't hide from them,” Liam pointed to the drones above. They shared a nervous laugh.
Hayes had walked about 100 yards onto the northern span of the bridge, into the bright orange rays of the sunrise. This put him about a quarter of the way over the river. The near side of the bridge roadway was completely empty, so there was no possible way to avoid detection if they tried to pursue him.
They crouched at the very end of the decking, partially behind the concrete side railing. Unable to follow Hayes onto the bridge, he examined the highway as it approached the bridge complex. A massive barricade had been set up with tractor-trailers, concrete road barriers, orange construction barrels, and some shipping containers tossed off to the sides of each lane and median to block the approach to the bridge. Cars remained parked on the highway as far as he could see back into this part of St. Loui
s.
“Odd that there aren't people swarming this bridge.”
Victoria looked around before replying. “Maybe the zombies swarmed through here and chased them all off?”
“If the people were run off because of the zombies, where'd they go?”
They both turned their attention back to the man they were following.
Hayes stood in front of a line of Army Humvees in the middle of the span, but they were not letting him get very close. A lone person had come out to meet him, and he or she wore a yellow biohazard suit.
“It doesn't look like they want to get close to him,” Liam observed. “Does that mean they think he has the plague? He didn't look sick.”
“If he has it, we all have it,” Victoria suggested in a reverent tone. “He's been with us for two whole days, now.”
Victoria's answer troubled Liam in all sorts of ways. The most tragic was the thought of his friend having the plague. Someone so vibrant and young should never have to suffer from this disease. He remembered his very first encounter with the yoga lady. She also typified the young and the vibrant, and it still took her. That encounter horrified him, but just the idea of Victoria turning into a zombie made him ill. Could he … kill … his new friend?
If he turned into a zombie, was Victoria strong enough to put him out of his misery?
He considered all the angles as they watched Hayes talk with the roadblock representative. He was very animated in his gestures and paced back and forth while he spoke. They heard fragments of what he said, even at this distance, because he often yelled in anger, but Liam couldn't make out anything useful.
After about five minutes, Hayes got super agitated. He continued his ranting and arm flailing, but he tried to move around the person with the hazmat suit and walk toward the checkpoint in the middle of the bridge. Immediately, the soldiers leveled their rifles at him. Liam clearly heard the rounds being loaded into the chambers of weapons. He also heard one of the soldiers shout, “STAND DOWN, SIR, OR WE WILL KILL YOU.”