by Dan McMartin
Pete heard metal on metal as he slipped past the car but he didn’t care. It was a small price to pay for survival. Once he was free, he gunned the Jeep and outran the zombies that followed. “Let’s not do that again,” he said.
“Amen,” Gunny replied.
“We haven’t seen more than a few of those things outside of the little towns we passed through,” Anders said.
“Makes you wonder how many are out there that you can’t see,” Anna remarked.
“I’d rather not think about it,” Gunny told her.
Chapter 11
The small band drove the back roads through the hills of California. They saw the occasional zombie shambling through a field or along the side of the road. Each town, big and small, was home to more of the walking dead. That’s where the people they used to be made their homes before all of this, and where for the most part, they remained.
As evening approached and after several missed turns and detours, the foursome found an abandoned garage to hold up for the night. Gunny and Anders secured the doors and boarded the windows while Pete and Anna set up their temporary camp inside the bay where the former owner used to service cars. The Jeep sat parked in the other bay right next to them. The place looked to have closed long before the events of the past week.
“I don’t think a squad of grunts could get into this place without explosives,” Anders remarked as the two military men joined Pete and Anna.
“Don’t be so sure, squid,” Gunny shot back. Both men smiled. The banter was obviously part of their relationship.
“As long as those things don’t get in here,” Anna said.
“From your lips...,” Anders replied. The four new friends, allies really, settled in for the evening. They cooked canned raviolis and ramen noodles for dinner, adding a little venison jerky to the noodles that Pete had found at Mike’s cabin. Afterward, they shared stories of their experiences since this all happened.
Pete found it cleansing to speak of it again, to tell other survivors of his journey and loses and hear of theirs. Anders’ situation was by far the saddest in Pete’s estimation. The man seemed to shrink into himself as he explained the fate of his wife and daughter. Pete had lost his friend and knew his mother had turned but he had also gained someone, Anna.
Anders was holding himself together, however. What choice did he have? Hell, they all were barely hanging on in one way or another. Pete was overwhelmed for a moment now and then thinking about his mom or the way he left Mike behind. At times, the whole situation threatened to steal his sanity, but Pete managed to carry on. He persevered. Like Anders, what choice did he have? Pete could lay down and die or he could survive. He chose survival and with that, the pain was kept at bay most of the time.
“God, I could use a drink and a cigar,” Gunny announced. Anna stood up and went to the Jeep. She came back with one of the jars of moonshine they had brought from Mike’s cabin.
“Life’s short so no sense in saving these,” she told the men as she sat down, opened the lid and took a drink.
“You’re an angel,” Gunny told her as she passed it to him.
“No cigars. Sorry,” she replied.
“I wish we had some weed,” Pete said. Everyone looked at him.
“You smoke pot?” Anna asked, a bit shocked.
“No, I’ve always been too chicken to try. But now...,” he replied. Anna nodded.
“I guess you’re right. I smoke it all the time and I could use a joint right now,” she said. Pete turned and stared as Gunny took another sip of moonshine. Then he began to laugh. Anna and the other men joined him.
“I bet we can find some good pot in San Francisco,” Pete added.
“Probably some drug-fueled, hippy love in,” Gunny said, trying to look disgusted but he couldn’t help cracking a smile. More laughter ensued before things turned serious again.
“What do you think it’s like? In the safe zone, I mean,” Anna asked.
“I don’t know. I hope they’ve got the area secured. I hope there’s a chain of command in place. Maybe tanks, planes. Those freaks can’t fight back. Get behind a wall with some food, water, shelter and weapons and you’re golden,” Gunny opined. No one could argue with his assessment.
“Maybe we can live in one of those row houses on a hill or down by the water,” Anna suggested.
“No, the Trans-fucking-America building. That’s where I want to live. How about you, Anders?” Pete added. Anders looked up. He had barely been listening.
“Huh? Oh, I don’t know. I think I’d like to be on one of the ships. Freaks can’t swim, right?” he told them.
“Fuck, I hope not,” Gunny said. They passed the jar of booze around, speaking of their plans to get to the city. They all agreed after the episode on the road earlier that they would avoid bridges at all costs. Too narrow and if they got caught on one, there was no escape.
After a time, Anders wandered off. Pete assumed he had to pee. The jar was half gone by then. It was almost empty when they began to miss Anders. “Where’s your buddy?” Anna asked.
“I don’t know,” Gunny replied, looking around. Everyone reached for their weapons at the same time. No guns in such tight quarters. Instead knives, a machete and a tire iron Gunny had found. Suddenly, the stiff buzz each felt was gone in favor of a sudden adrenaline rush. “I’ll take the store room. You guys take the office and lounge,” he whispered. Pete and Anna nodded as they went in search of Anders.
~~~
Anders could feel it creeping in again. The same feeling he had at the farmhouse that caused him to contemplate the unthinkable. He didn’t do it but he wanted to. It just wasn’t in him. He wasn’t a coward and blowing his brains out was the coward’s way out. But he missed Nina and Cindy more than he could bare. It was more than that though.
He wasn’t there. He couldn’t save them. He knew it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t have known what was coming and probably could have done little to stop it anyway. Anders still felt responsible, in any case. He wasn’t even sure how they died. Helmsworth didn’t say. Did they turn or were they killed by the freaks. Or did one of them turn and...Anders tried not to think about that option too hard. Either way, he wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone but especially his wife and daughter.
The worst part is he’d never see them again. He couldn’t bury them, gaze at old photos or take solace in his friends and family. He had a baby picture of his daughter in his wallet and that and his wedding ring were all he had to remember his family by. He was forced by circumstances to simply move on and pretend nothing happened. He couldn’t even take the time to mourn with all those creatures about.
“I found him,” Anna called out. The others came to join her in the waiting lounge of the old garage. Anders didn’t even look up to regard them. “Let me talk to him. Maybe he needs a woman’s perspective,” Anna told Pete and Gunny. They agreed and returned to the garage to let the two have a moment.
“You gave us quite a scare,” Anna said as she sat next to Anders on the old tattered sofa.
“I’m sorry. I just needed some time alone,” he replied.
“I get it. I wish I couldn’t say I know what you’re going through, but I do,” Anna said. Anders looked up at the young woman but didn’t speak. “I lost my mom and dad. Not during all of this. Some thugs robbed their store and when my dad tried to stop them, one of the sons of bitches shot him and then my mom too. I lost them both on the same day while I was at school,” Anna explained.
Anders looked away to hide his tears. But Anna wouldn’t let him. She reached out and turned his head back towards her. “It’s okay. I’m here,” was all she said. Anders fought it but he couldn’t hold back the flood of emotions. He finally broke down, sobbing like a child as he put his head on Anna’s shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him as he cried.
“I’m sorry. God dammit,” Anders cursed himself as he sat up again and wiped the tears from his face.
“I’m sorry for your loss. I really am. But you’ve got frien
ds. We’re here for you,” Anna assured him. Anders looked over at her. This girl barely knew him but she was comforting him and called him a friend. With so much ugliness, it was refreshing, even surprising, to find acceptance from a relative stranger.
“Thanks,” Anders told Anna.
“The pain and darkness won’t ever go away, but it will fade,” she said.
“It feels like it never will. I’m fine and then it just hits me. They’re gone,” Anders said.
“There up here,” Anna said and poked him in the forehead and then followed that with a kiss to the same spot. “Come on, it’s not doing you any good to sit here alone. We should get some sleep. Pete says we should make San Francisco tomorrow. Your wife and daughter would want you to go and be safe. They would want you to live,” Anna said.
“I know. You’re right. Gunny said the same thing. Let’s go get some sleep. Maybe I shouldn’t drink anymore. I don’t think it helped like I hoped,” Anders said.
“That’s a tossup. It kind of helps numb the pain sometimes but maybe you’re right,” Anna said as she stood and offered Anders a hand. He took it and followed her back to the garage bay.
“You doing good, buddy?” Gunny asked as they entered, the friendly banter replaced with genuine concern.
“Yeah, I think so,” Anders replied. Suddenly, he felt grateful that he wasn’t doing this by himself. Anders felt hollow and empty inside but he wasn’t alone and he took solace in the fact each of his companions understood what he was going through in some way. Everyone had lost something in the past few days. He just hoped the darkness would pass. Crying helped and so did Anna being there with him. It would pass she told him but Anders wasn’t so sure. But Anna had a perspective that he didn’t right then. Maybe she was right.
~~~
It took longer than it should have but the four survivors found their way to Oakland and the Bay Bridge without too much trouble. They had to backtrack once when they came upon what could only be called a herd of zombies. It was hundreds strong and spread out across the road Pete had chosen. They found another way.
The Jeep needed gas along the way and Pete was relieved to find the power grid still up. He often wondered how long it might last without care and maintenance. A week, a month, a year? Maybe not that long but he was glad it had lasted so far. Cell coverage was spotty but as they neared the Bay Area, the signal grew strong again. The internet was up too. Most of it anyway. He figured many of the server rooms where the data was housed were designed to survive at least minor catastrophes. But someday, everything would go dark unless they managed to reclaim their world.
Pete didn’t think that was going to happen anytime soon.
As they drove along the freeway leading up to the massive Bay Bridge, Pete couldn’t yet see the approaches. But he could see the city across the bay. It looked normal from this far away, like every other time he’d seen it. He knew it wasn’t and as they rounded the last curve that lead up to the toll plaza that was confirmed.
Sandbags, razor wire and concrete barriers funneled them into three lanes of the fifteen or so that existed. There were no other cars in line to pass through which was a relief but eerie as well. Most days there would be hundreds of cars lined up to pay their tolls and enter the City by the Bay. But not today.
“This is surreal,” Anna exclaimed. Even the two military men in the back seat leaned forward to get a peek at the checkpoint. Beyond the toll plaza were more fences, barriers and even tanks. Men stood guard on top of the toll plaza, pacing back and forth. Snipers could be seen as well, visible only because the zombies couldn’t shoot back. Pete pulled up to the toll booth as a man in uniform stepped out to block his way, hand held up.
Pete stopped and the man, an Army soldier who wore a Military Police band on his arm, came around to greet the new arrivals. He smiled as he approached, relaxed and pleasant. That surprised Pete but then again, the living, the survivors, weren’t the enemy.
“Afternoon, Sir. Welcome to Camp San Francisco,” he greeted Pete.
“Thanks. We were told we could find shelter here. Well, we heard it on the shortwave radio,” Pete told him.
“That is correct. I just need the names of you and your passengers and then I’ll send you ahead for processing,” the soldier advised him. Gunny reached down and pressed the switch on the rear of the center console, opening his window.
“Corporal,” he greeted the man.
“Yes?” the MP answered.
“I’m Gunnery Sergeant Chris Rodriquez, USMC. Where can we find the commander?” he asked the MP.
“Sir, you’ll be advised further upon processing. Everyone gets processed,” the MP replied and then wrote down Gunny’s name. Each occupant gave their names in turn and the soldier recorded them dutifully. Then he ushered them past, directing them to follow the green arrows that had been painted on the pavement after he taped the paper with their names on the inside of the windshield.
Those arrows led Pete and his friends across the first span of the bridge. The existing barriers were supplemented with temporary concrete barriers that funneled the three lanes at the toll gate down to a single lane. The other lanes were occupied by more men with rifles behind more barriers and fencing.
Pete and his friends crossed the east span of the bridge and then followed the arrows off the freeway and onto Treasure Island. The natural island marked the halfway point, more or less, across the bay. The freeway disappeared into a tunnel through the mountainous island but the entrance was blocked by more barriers and men with rifles. Pete followed the off ramp around the island and then to what appeared to be another larger, manmade island, flat and rectangular in shape. There, they found the processing station.
Guards waved Pete through and directed him where to park his Jeep. As he shut off his Jeep and the foursome climbed out, they were surrounded by armed soldiers. Pete could see other groups there too. Some were returning from the old, semicircular building that must have been the processing station. Some were newly arrived and their vehicles were being inspected. It seemed rather formal and a bit disconcerting.
For a moment, Pete wondered if coming to Camp San Francisco was a big mistake.
Chapter 12
“Hi there. I’m Marilyn. Don’t mind the men with guns. They’re just a precaution, right?” a woman announced as she approached, looking at one of the armed men. These men were Coast Guard, probably stationed on the island before everything went to hell.
“Yes, ma’am. Harmless as a butterfly,” the man she addressed replied jokingly. He didn’t look harmless in his body armor, carrying an automatic rifle.
“See, nothing to worry about,” Marilyn said, turning her attention back to the new arrivals. “Welcome to Treasure Island. This is the processing station for Camp San Francisco. You’re probably scared and tired but we have to ensure we aren’t letting in the wrong people...,” she told them and then paused, “...that sounded harsh. We need to make sure you’re not infected,” she corrected.
“Let’s see,” Marilyn said as she pulled the paper off of Pete’s windshield. “Pete, Anna, Chris and Jim. I see Chris and Jim are military...that’s good. Well, you two will probably feel right at home here. Lots of waiting in line, poking and prodding, like when you joined. It’s not too busy today so you shouldn’t be here long,” she explained.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but when can I see the camp commander?” Gunny asked.
“You Marines are all so eager. After processing, I promise. First off, these men are going to search the vehicle, then we’ll go inside for a quick medical exam...and don’t worry young lady, we’ve got female doctors too. Then we’ll assign you a sector and job. Finally, we’ve got a short video from the Camp Commander, Colonel Widman. Then we’ll send you across the bay,” Marilyn told them.
Marilyn was middle aged but very pretty and elegant. She wore high heels, a tight pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse. She was so out of place in this new world, Pete had to ask, “Who are you?”
“Sorry, I’m Marilyn Givens, Camp San Francisco public relations. I used to work for a tech company in San Jose until...well, you know. I made it here the day after and they put me to work greeting new arrivals,” Marilyn explained.
“So, how did this all come about? It hasn’t been a week,” Anna asked.
“I’m not entirely sure about all the details but almost immediately the Navy ordered ships to the bay and Colonel Widman, being the highest ranking officer anyone could find, arrived from Camp Parks south of here and established Camp San Francisco. Since then, the military and many civilians have been securing the Bay Bridge, Treasure Island and parts of San Francisco,” Marilyn said as two of the armed men searched the Jeep.
“Did they do that?” Anders asked pointing at the Golden Gate Bridge across the bay, past the Coast Guard and Navy ships anchored near Alcatraz Island.