“Norm?” the voice says, the voice that is undoubtedly a man from our own hometown of Woodhaven, Ohio, thousands of miles away from San Francisco. A man who is almost a ghost.
“Tim!” Norm shouts again, his voice barely audible. He’s gone down the length of street fast. He’s coming up to a barricade in front of the sign. One I seem to just now be noticing. It’s made of junked cars, crooked dumpsters, and bags of sand. It really looks like a war zone down there just before the park’s sign. Then beyond that, a wall, a towering structure, fortified, strong, as pretty as a picture.
“NORM!” the megaphone cracks, and before anything else can be said, I hear the distant echo of the megaphone’s material hitting the ground. A great scratch of feedback slices through the air, and I’m reduced to clutching my head and covering my ears.
In the distance, a tall, skinny shadow comes out from near the trees. He holds his gun — something long and vicious looking like an assault rifle — at his hip and walks hesitantly toward the shadow that is my brother.
Then something clicks. It’s that great entity working its magic again, bringing us together, guiding us.
The two shadows converge on each other. It’s not malicious at all. They hug. Norm lifts Tim up in the air and spins him around a few times before he drops him. I see their faces come together into a kiss and I can’t help but smile. It’s beautiful. Sometimes this thing called life is so beautiful.
Thirty-Seven
“Come on,” I say to Darlene and Abby, waving them into the street. They move apprehensively at first, but Cupcake leads the way. I think the dog can smell or sense danger. And he senses that the danger is gone. He bounds up the sidewalk.
“What happened? What’s happening?” Abby says. She sounds like she can’t believe what she’s seeing, like any signs of love in this harsh world are about as alien as flying saucers. She points with her gun toward the sign that reads GOLDEN GATE PARK. She has no intention of shooting, she just doesn’t have another hand to point with.
“Yeah, what the heck?” Darlene says.
I can only shake my head.
“How does Norm know that guy?” Abby says. “What are the odds?”
I instantly hear Klein’s nasally voice in my head. The odds, Jack. The odds! But really, what are the odds? How can something like this happen? How can the group and I catch a break when we never do, when we have to create our own breaks usually through gunfire and mayhem?
I guess the odds were in our favor.
“I think it’s better if we let Norm tell it to you. He could explain more than I could. But I’ll tell you one thing,” I say, “there’s someone or something out there watching over us.”
Abby looks at me crookedly. “Like God?”
“Could be,” I say. “Could be something else. Who am I to say?”
She nods. “I’ve never been religious.”
“I’m not too religious, either,” I say to Abby.
She knows. She lived in Woodhaven for eighteen years — not a terribly long time in the grand scheme of someone’s life, but long enough to witness the horrors of the town firsthand, which would make any sane person know God isn’t real.
But maybe He or She is.
“I think it is God,” Darlene says.
Norm shouts, “Jack! Abby! Darlene! Come on!” His shadow waves us forward. And we move down the slight hill.
I see Darlene shaking. She dreads what she will find out inside.
I think we all do.
Thirty-Eight
It’s all so surreal.
We walk up to the barricade. The junked cars are riddled with bullet holes and smeared with blackish blood. Spikes jut from the cars and hunks of metal. Norm waves us over. He had vaulted the barricade with no problem. It’s the zombies who are not meant to get over, but after seeing the dreaded meat mountain on more than one occasion, I don’t think height is a zombie’s weakness. What are, besides a bullet or a stab to the brain? Water? Yeah, maybe, but throw enough zombies into the water and eventually they’ll stack up until they’re spilling out onto the shore. Maybe if you’re in the middle of the ocean, away from all the old traces of civilization then you might be okay.
I go over the barricade first, sticking my foot on a crumpled car door and pulling myself over, grabbing a wooden spike, careful not to get splinters. Then I reach out to help Darlene, then she’s over the barrier, standing on a stretch of blacktop that leads to the large, looming fence, which is cracked open and showing green grass and trees. On the gate’s entrance, written in jagged white letters is HAVEN. The fence is made of twisted steel, the type of wrought-iron thing you’d see at old haunted graveyards. There is a look out on each side of the portcullis. They’re made of tall ladders welded together. I can see the melted metal about halfway through the length of them. At the top of the lookout are barrels big enough for two people to stand in. They are open at the top, made of the same splintery wood as the spikes coming through the car barricades. It reminds me of a crow’s nest on some pirate’s ship. As I’m looking up there, I catch a glimpse of steel — the person who shot at us.
Abby boosts Cupcake over the car and I do the rest, helping him over, cradling him in my arms.
Abby comes over last.
Norm has his arm around Tim’s neck. I still can’t believe it. Seeing him is like walking into a time machine. Norm and Tim were inseparable. I remember him at our house all of the time. Him sitting with us on the occasional dinner, him playing kickball in the backyard, shooting hoops at the park down the street.
“Hi, Tim,” I say.
He grins at me. He’s always had this smile. That’s one thing I really remember. For awhile, even Tim could charm my mother, and she basically hated everyone. But the unspeakable act of homosexuality shared between Norm and Tim had ruined that and not even Tim’s million dollar smile could save him from my mother’s wrath then. None of that matters.
“Jack,” he says. “Wow, I don’t even know what to say.”
Tim has aged well. His face is somewhat young-looking. There’s a purity about it despite the military camouflage he wears and the assault rifle in his hands.
A few other men come from the gate’s open doors. They wear hunting jackets and golf shirts, looking nothing like a trained military organization. One of the men — he’s really a boy — seems closer to Abby’s age, and I want to ask what the hell he’s doing out here, but know it’s not my place. He doesn’t have a choice. He’s black, wearing a bright pink shirt. The only thing brighter than his shirt is his smile. He turns toward us.
“Everything all right, Tim?” he asks.
“Yeah, Mike, no worries. Just found some new recruits,” Tim answers back, grinning that youthful smile.
Mike begins to reply, but stops as he sees Abby walk to the rest of us. The smile disappears and his lips part. I’m thinking, Oh don’t tell me he knows Abby somehow, now that would just be ridiculous —
“Hi,” Mike says rather timidly.
I stick out my hand as he crosses the stretch of blacktop toward us. He doesn’t even notice me. Norm chuckles.
“Love is in the air tonight,” he whispers, and I realize what caused Mike to drop his jaw. It was Abby.
“Hello,” Abby says back also timidly. She unconsciously hides her wrapped stump and brushes her hair out of her face with her good hand.
“I’m Mike.”
“Abby,” she answers. Her face is red. She smiles, giggles like an honest-to-God girl.
The other man in the hunting jacket and cowboy hat speaks up, cutting this love-fest short before I can take Mike to the side and tell him to back off Abby like some overprotective brother. “She ain’t gonna take no more recruits. You know that, Timmy,” Hunting Vest says. His hat casts a shadow over his face, but I see he’s bearded, probably grew it to cover up his double chin.
“We’ll see about that. She’s a sucker for nostalgia and anything reminding us of the old world,” Tim says. “Plus,” he nudges Norm, “E
ve knows all about how charming I am.”
Eve?
“Eve?” Darlene says, breathlessly, echoing my thoughts. Then, barely a whisper, “Mom?”
“Yeah,” Tim says, looking confused. “Eve.”
“That’s my…Oh, my God, that’s — ”
“Your mom!” I shout, jumping in the air. Holy shit. This can’t be. I knew I said I felt like she’d be okay, but this? She runs the place? I can’t even comprehend —
Abby and Norm look on confused. Cupcake barks.
“What the hell, Tim?” Hunting Vest says. “Why you letting in crazies?”
“Is Carmen here?” Darlene asks. She speaks so fast, I can barely understand her.
“No way,” Abby says. “Your mom and sister?”
“Tall redhead? Yeah, she’s Eve’s daughter,” Tim says. “What is going — ”
Norm leans over and kisses Tim on the cheek with enough force to make him stumble.
Mike laughs and Hunting Vest looks confused, like should he go for his weapon or call a doctor.
Now, Darlene stammers. She’s trying to say something. We’re all laughing, giddy. I can’t believe it.
“S-S-Sh — ” Darlene says.
“Show us!” Norm shouts.
“What?” Tim asks. He’s so confused.
Darlene cries but smiles at the same time. A long time since I’ve seen that smile.
“This is her daughter, man!” Norm shouts. “Eve, your leader’s daughter.”
“Darlene?” Tim says. “No way in — ”
“Yes!” I shout. Holy cow, I’ve not been this happy in God knows how long. I picture that entity smiling down on us today like a ray of godly sunshine.
Norm smiles so wide, I think his face is about to break. I’ve never seen my older brother this happy, either — not even when I saved his ass in Eden. That makes me feel good.
“Well, Ho-ly shit,” Tim says, “Welcome to the Haven,” Tim says as he waves to the sign, “let’s go have us a family fucking reunion!”
We rush past the gate and into the trees of the park. We cross a road that is long and open for as far as the eye can see. I think it travels west until it hits the beach and water farther out. I don’t know. I don’t try to get a good look around. All I’m focusing on is Darlene, making sure she doesn’t pass out from the news of her mother.
God, this is good. So good.
Thirty-Nine
As we travel through this place, I can’t help but notice all of it. It’s a wonder. A sight for sore eyes.
What we see is not a park, but a decent sized metropolis. Part of me wonders why they didn’t move into the deserted places in the city. I can only come up with a few answers. The bones of this shelter were here from the beginning, the people who live here are too frightened to go out (I don’t blame them), and living in the abandoned city would only be a reminder of what we lost, seeing that everyday could get to a person, I think.
No time for depressing thoughts. Darlene’s mom and sister are alive!
The buildings are in a clearing, made of logs probably chopped down from this very part of the park. Some of the closer buildings are made of sheets of metal and stacked on top of each other like some third world country. People are milling about, their arms full of wood, food, or laundry. Some are carrying crates of chickens like weary travelers carrying their suitcases through the airport. The sounds of a downtown area assault our ears. People clamoring, children screaming and laughing, animals — cows, pigs, goats, chickens — making high pitched, alarmed noises. There are no cars. No roads besides the beaten dirt and grass paths that lead to each shanty-house or log cabin. People are out in the middle of the street peddling fruits and vegetables, others are peddling expired candy bars and clothes that are much cleaner than the ones on their backs.
“Holy cow is right,” Norm says, but he’s smiling.
I look to Darlene. Our pace quickens. The newly established settlement is a blur. I hold her hand. “I told you,” I say. “Everything is okay.”
“Follow me,” Tim says, “almost there.” Then he laughs like a loon and says, “Holy shit!”
He walks down the dirty road, waving away street vendors with that large grin on his face. They thrust dead chickens at me, meat on sticks, roasted vegetables, necklaces, and upon a closer look, I see something that brings a queasy feeling up in my stomach.
“Famous parts! Famous parts!” the street vendor says. He’s as shabby looking as the buildings crowded around us. He has one eye. The other one is just a hollow, dark hole. A red scar runs from the corner of this empty socket to around his ear. “Eyeballs from the old world’s hottest celebs! Hearts of teenage heartthrobs! Lungs of world class singers!”
I almost want to stop. Part of me thinks I imagine this. No one else seems to pay any mind. Like any city, I guess you’ll have your fair share of weirdos.
“There it is!” Tim shouts, pointing to a tower-like structure. “Your mom’s in there!”
Now our jog goes to a sprint. I almost can’t keep up.
Everything else leaves my mind. All I can think about is Darlene’s happiness.
Forty
Tim leads us into the large tower. It is also guarded by other men wearing camouflage and hunting vests — apocalyptic knights.
“Oh, my God,” Darlene says. “I can’t believe this.” She starts to cry again. I put my arm around her, feeling pretty good because I know these are tears of happiness.
Tim leads us down a long hallway. There are pictures on the walls. Pieces of art that look like they’ve once hung in museums or galleries. The floor beneath the runner is marble and the air is cool as if there’s a running central air unit. But inside is quiet, as quiet as a mausoleum. There are no torches on the walls like Father Michael’s church. There are lights, honest-to-God lights.
Mike and Abby walk in front of Darlene and I, talking in low conversation. If I wasn’t so ecstatic right now, I’d tell Mike to back off.
“I’ll go get her!” Tim says. “She’s going to make me a king for finding her lost daughter,” he says while he walks off.
Norm turns toward Darlene and I. He smiles. He doesn’t say anything, but comes over and hugs us in much the same way Herb would’ve with his infamous group hugs.
“Abby, quit flirting and get over here!” Norm says.
She giggles, face red, but she does.
We hug in the hallway of this tower-like stronghold as a family unit, looking to add more.
Hunting Vest says, “You outsiders are weird.”
Mike says, “Shut up, Chet.”
Eh, maybe I’ll give the kid a chance.
Forty-One
Footsteps coming down the stairs.
Darlene’s grip on my hand is iron clad. My knuckles crack and grind. My heart beats frantically, waiting for the reveal.
A shadow stretches on the walls. We are all turned toward the heels clicking the floor.
It’s Tim, but he’s smiling.
“I’ve heard so many stories about you. This is crazy,” he says. He looks up to the ceiling and mouths words. I can’t read his lips. All I see is his strong jaw and the stubble on his neck.
I’m too surprised to really say or do anything, and my hold on Darlene disappears as she breaks off and says, “Where’s my mom?”
Tim looks down at his feet.
Bile comes up my throat. What, is this all some kind of sick joke? Where’s Eve? Where’s Carmen?
I clench my hands into fists. I don’t care if Tim and I go way back, I’ll punch his —
More footsteps coming from behind Tim.
Hope inflates. Heartbeat speeds up. Darlene edges closer. Tim’s smile gets wider.
“Darlene?” a voice calls.
Holy shit.
Forty-Two
Eve looks much different than when I last saw her. Her face is haggard and tired-looking. Her hair is no longer full. The stress or age has caught up to her and thinned it. She’s not bad-looking by any means…she ju
st looks weathered.
We all do.
The two women stare at each other from across the hall. There’s a silence that hangs in the air where I don’t think any of us breathe, where our hearts cease to beat. Neither woman wears a smile on their faces. I wonder if Darlene sees herself in her mother. I wonder if it’s like looking into a time traveling mirror.
“Darlene,” Eve says, voice breaking, eyes gleaming.
Darlene’s voice is weak, very weak. Barely a whisper. “M-Mom?”
Then the silence again.
I’m standing right next to Darlene, Norm and Abby behind me but to the side. I can see them out of the corner of my eyes. Abby is crying. Mike moves closer to comfort her, his arm going around her shoulder.
I put my hand on Darlene’s lower back. I give her a nudge.
That’s all it takes. She takes off running across the hall. Her mom runs, too. They meet each other, looking into one another’s eyes for a moment — eyes that are almost identical — and then they hug each other tight, sobbing.
Forty-Three
The reunion is more than I could ever imagine. Hugs and kisses. Handshakes. Eve even hugs me.
“Hello, Jack,” she says.
I know she’s never been too fond of our relationship. She would never admit to Darlene, but dating a writer who barely makes enough to pay rent and his student loans isn’t good enough for her little princess. Darlene is a knockout, plain and simple. A girl like her deserves to be with a man who can buy her anything she wants, who will get her that sixteen carat engagement ring and not some twenty-five cent arcade ring, who will take her to the Bahamas during Christmas and Disney World in the summer. Not some guy whose idea of fine dining is ordering soft drinks at the local Olive Garden.
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