His Name Was Zach

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His Name Was Zach Page 38

by Peter Martuneac


  Abby had stopped crying now, but she was still sniffling. Zach looked down at her. He wished he could stay with her and keep watching her grow up into a woman, but his time with her was nearly over and Abby would have to find a way on her own. She deserved so much better than this. Life was cruel, but Abby was strong. She would hold on, she would keep her light. This was just the darkness before the dawn.

  “Okay,” Zach whispered, “it’s time.”

  “One more minute! Please, one more minute!” Abby pleaded as she clutched at Zach’s shirt, as if she could physically hold him back from Death.

  “One more minute,” Zach answered. He was getting sweaty, his breathing was becoming labored, and his head was pounding. The disease was taking over. Soon he would die and then reanimate…unless, of course, someone gave him the one and only cure.

  To Abby, this was both the longest and the shortest minute of her life. She kept her head against Zach’s chest so that she could feel his heartbeat. It was usually so strong, but now it could barely be felt, and Abby whimpered softly. She shut her eyes, trying to take herself out of reality as she recalled some of her dearest memories of Zach. Without a doubt, her favorite memory of him was back at the very beginning.

  ***

  The little girl ran as fast as she could down the street, wearing only a pair of pink shorts and a shirt. The pebbles and loose gravel of the street stung her bare feet, but she ignored the pain. Those monsters weren’t far behind and she had to outrun them. They had chased her out of her home, where she had spent the last week alone after her mother had been murdered.

  The monsters were gaining on her and she was getting tired. Where were all the neighbors? She made a left turn down an alley between two houses that she knew led to the next street over. Maybe someone over there would help her! She took two steps into the alley and then stopped in horrified shock. An overturned mail truck blocked the other end!

  She turned around to get back on her street but the monsters were right behind her! She backed up slowly until her back was touching the cold metal of the overturned vehicle. She was trapped. The monsters knew it too, and now they approached slowly like predators preparing to devour their prey.

  But the little girl stood her ground, and defiance glowed in her grey eyes. A long splinter of wood lay on the ground next to her feet, so she picked it up and held it like a sword, ready to fight back. But as fate would have it, she didn’t have to. Gunfire suddenly erupted behind the monsters, and three fell dead in as many seconds. The other three turned and charged at their assailant, but they too fell dead: six shots, six dead monsters.

  The little girl looked and saw a man in camouflage utilities walking towards her. He had a green pack of some kind on his shoulders, a black bandana around his forehead, and he carried a rifle. He knelt down in front of the girl and said, “Are you alright?” The girl didn’t answer.

  “My name is Zach. What’s yours?” the man asked, but he still got no answer.

  Zach pointed at the stick in her hand, chuckled, and said, “Lucky for those things I got ‘em before you did. You would have given them hell, huh?” She dropped the piece of wood but didn’t answer.

  “Where are you parents?” Zach asked. The girl shook her head.

  “You don’t know?” he asked, and she shook her head again. “So you’re all alone?” She nodded her head this time.

  Zach thought for a moment, and then said, “Would you like to come with me?” The girl nodded her head emphatically and reached up to him, indicating that she wanted to be carried.

  Zach scooped her up and cradled her in his arms then turned around and left the alley with her. “We need to find you some clothes, kid. Where’s your home?” he asked. She pointed down the way she had come from and Zach started walking.

  “You were really brave back there,” Zach said. “A lot of people are too afraid to fight back against zombies, but not you. Even though you’re little, you’re made of strong stuff, you know. Kind of like…a bug. You’re small but very strong. Can I call you ‘Bug’?” The little girl nodded her head.

  Zach carried Bug down to the end of the block and stopped when she pointed to a yellow house on the right. He carried her inside the open front door and set her down on the carpet. The place looked ransacked, probably from the zombies that had chased her. The girl pointed upstairs and Zach said, “Your room? Okay, stay behind me.”

  With his rifle in his shoulder, Zach cautiously ascended the stairs. On the second floor a hallway ran off to the right with two doors on either side. Bug pointed towards the last door on the left. “Okay,” Zach said. He checked each room for danger as they advanced, but they were safe.

  “Here you go,” he said when they reached Bug’s room. This room was also extremely messy, with clothes and stuffed toys strewn everywhere. Bug walked around quickly, picking up a pair of blue jeans, a red shirt, a pair of socks, and then she found first one shoe and then the other. Zach stepped outside and partly shut the door. “Just come on out when you’re dressed,” he said.

  A minute later, Bug appeared wearing all of her clothes. “Do you have a backpack or anything to carry stuff in?” Zach asked. She went back into her room and came back carrying a sparkly pink schoolbag. “Okay, let’s go down to the kitchen and get some things before we head out,” Zach said.

  They went back downstairs and scoured the kitchen for supplies, but there was precious little to be had. Some canned food, a can opener, and a few bottles of water was all they took. Zach filled the girl’s backpack with this and handed it to her, but she frowned when she put it on her shoulders.

  “Too heavy?” Zach asked. Bug nodded her head, so Zach dropped his ruck, took some of the stuff from her bag and put it in his, then handed it back to her. “Better?” he asked as they both put their packs on their shoulders, and Bug nodded her head. They both left the kitchen and headed for the front door.

  Bug paused before she stepped outside, feeling a little scared. Zach stopped next to her, saw her uncertain expression, and took her hand in his and said, “Are you ready, Bug?” She nodded her head and then they stepped outside together.

  For the next several days, they walked south-west, heading for the countryside. Zach told Bug that it would be safer out in the farmland areas than in the suburbs. She still didn’t talk, but that didn’t stop Zach from talking to her as they traveled. After only a few days of walking, they reached the wide-open farmlands and, after eight days, they found a small cottage in some woods.

  “Look, Bug!” Zach said, pointing towards the cabin-like structure. They approached it carefully and Zach called out, “Hello! Anyone home?” There was no answer. “I’m just looking for a place to spend the night! I’ve got a little girl with me!” When the silence stretched for several seconds, Zach told Bug to wait there and then started to move up to the house, but he stopped when Bug grabbed his sleeve. He turned back and saw the worried expression on her face.

  “Don’t worry, Bug. I’m just gonna check it out. You stay here, though,” he said, and again he turned to walk towards the cabin, but Bug stopped him again, still looking scared. Zach got to one knee, looked Bug in the eye, and said, “I promise I’ll be okay, Bug. I’ll even pinky-promise.” He smiled and held out his pinky finger to Bug. She stared at it for a moment but then she hesitantly hooked her own pinky around his. Zach mussed her hair up with one hand as he stood back up and said, “I’ll be right back.”

  Zach knocked on the front door and, after getting no response, tried the knob and found it to be unlocked. He pushed the door open and looked inside. The place was surprisingly well furnished, having two beds, several chairs and a table, and shelves upon shelves of food, water, and other supplies. On the back wall was a fireplace, and a man sat in a chair in front of it.

  “Hello?” Zach said as he slowly circled towards the man with his rifle half-way up. He got to the man’s side, and that’s when he saw the neat little hole in his forehead and an empty .22 caliber revolver in his hand. The
re was no exit wound, meaning the tiny bullet was still lodged in the man’s brain.

  “Ah, Jesus,” Zach muttered. The man didn’t look like he’d been dead for very long. In fact, Zach thought he might have only died as little as an hour ago. Bug poked her head inside the front door now. Her nervousness had gotten the better of her, so she followed Zach up to the house, but he saw her and said, “Don’t look, baby girl.” She covered her eyes with her hands and backed out the door again as Zach carried the corpse outside. “Wait inside. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  With no shovel to dig a grave, Zach carried the man out into the woods and laid him against a tree as respectfully as he could. “I’ll come back to bury you later, I promise,” he whispered, and then he walked back to the cabin. Bug was sitting on the edge of the bed in the near-right corner of the one-room house and Zach asked, “You want this to be your bed?”

  She nodded her head, so Zach grabbed an extra sheet from the other bed. Using some survival cord and the sheet, he managed to rig up a screen in front of Bug’s bed. “There you go. Now you can have some privacy,” he said. He clapped his hands together, rubbed them quickly up and down, and said, “Now, what do you say we get a fire going?” Walking over to the fireplace, he found a large box of matches on the floor next to a metal basket that had chopped wood all ready to go, and an axe was leaning against the wall next to it.

  “Bug, would you please you go outside and get some dry twigs and leaves?” he said, and Bug did as he asked. She came back in a minute later with her hands cupped together, holding the things that Zach had asked her to gather. He took these and showed Bug how to get a fire going. He used the twigs and leaves to set up a little lean-to in the fireplace and then struck a match and held it underneath the kindling until it caught fire.

  Zach slowly added bigger and bigger sticks to the fire until eventually he was able to get a whole log burning warmly. Satisfied, he looked up at Bug and saw her smiling, something she had not done since he had rescued her from zombies. He chuckled and said, “So you do know how to smile.” Bug blushed and looked away, but Zach could still see the corners of her mouth turned upwards.

  Zach then grabbed a short metal grate and placed it over the fire. He walked back towards the front door and grabbed one of the three five-gallon jugs of water sitting there, completely full. He sniffed the water and tasted it to make sure it was good and then carried it over to the fire. Bug had guessed what he was doing and had already grabbed a pot and set it on the ground.

  “Thank you, Bug,” Zach said as he poured a little bit of water into the pot and then returned the jug to its original spot. He then grabbed a large can of soup from one of the shelves, muttering to himself, “This guy had everything he needed to survive for a long time. Why’d he off himself?” He popped the lid off of the can and dumped the soup into the pot.

  He set the pot on the metal grate over the fire and let it warm up, stirring it with a long wooden spoon as Bug grabbed two bowls and spoons and set them on the table. When the soup started to boil, Zach took the pot off the fire and carried it over to the table. He poured the soup into the two bowls, making sure that Bug got a little bit more than half. He set the pot aside and then both of them sat down across from each other.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Zach announced and he quickly walked back over to his ruck, fished something out of one of the pouches, and held it behind his back as he walked back. “I’ve been working on this for the past week. It’s for you,” he said and then he handed Bug a crude slingshot. “I figured you might like a toy to play with,” he said as he sat back down.

  Bug turned the slingshot over in her hands, examining it intently. But then she set it down on the table and just stared down at her lap. Worried that he might have upset her, Zach said, “Are you okay, Bug?”

  Bug took a deep breath, looked up at Zach, and said, “Abby. My name is Abby.”

  Zach looked stupefied. She had just talked! “Your…your name is Abby?” he asked.

  “Yes. Thank you for saving me, by the way, and for taking care of me. I’m sorry I haven’t been talking, I just needed some time to heal, I guess.”

  Wanting to keep her talking, Zach asked, “Heal from what?”

  “A man killed my mom a week before you found me. I saw it happen. So I just…didn’t want to talk.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “I never knew him. Mom said he ran away before I was even born, and that I was better off not knowing him.”

  Zach wasn’t sure how he should respond to this. He stayed quiet for a few moments and then said, “If you like…you could stay with me. I’ve never been a father, but I’ll try to be one for you.”

  She smiled at him and her silver eyes twinkled brilliantly as they reflected the fire light. “Yes,” she said, “I’d like that. And I promise to not be a burden. I can work around here to help you. I pull my own weight.”

  Zach smiled back and said, “You could never be a burden to me, Abby.”

  ***

  Abby.

  “Abby,” Zach said softly again.

  Abby slowly came back from her reminiscing and looked up at Zach’s face. He was getting very pale and his eyes were only half-open. The disease was working quickly.

  “It’s time,” he said.

  It took all of her strength, but Abby slowly pulled her head away from him and slid out from underneath his arm. She sat on her knees and faced Zach, who was breathing heavily.

  “Okay,” he said, “listen to me, Abby. Once we’re done here, you take my ruck and carry as much as you are able to, okay? It’ll be heavy, but you’ll just have to get used to it. I know you will.” He reached down and undid his thigh holster, and handed this to Abby along with one more mag from his pocket. “You should take my pistol now. We’ve got more ammo for this one than your Glock and you’ll be able to carry it in my holster, too. I’ve got two more full mags in my ruck, so you should have plenty of ammo, but remember to use your knife when you can.”

  “I will,” Abby whispered.

  “I’d recommend heading west and slightly south. Try to get to a warm region of the country for the winter. The U.S. government still exists out in the west from what we’ve been told, so that’s where I’d go, but you make your own decisions.”

  “I’ll probably head west,” Abby muttered.

  “Okay,” Zach said. He then reached inside his shirt and pulled out his dog tags. “Take these to remember me by,” he said as he put them into Abby’s hand. She draped them over her neck and tucked the tags into her shirt. “And remember Abby,” Zach said, “don’t ever change. You’re the best chance for humanity’s future, so don’t let go of your light, even if everyone else does.”

  “I won’t, I promise.”

  “Pinky-promise?”

  Abby grinned in spite of herself as she hooked her pinky around Zach’s and said, “Pinky-promise.”

  “Okay,” Zach said. There was a short silence between them, and then Zach said, “Are you ready to finish this?”

  Fresh tears began to stream from Abby’s eyes. She looked away from Zach, unable to meet his gaze, and said, “I can’t, Zach.”

  “Yes, you can,” Zach said as he placed his hand under Abby’s chin and gently turned her head back towards him. “I know it’s hard, but you need to do it. In a weird way, it gives you a kind of closure. It might take a while, but eventually you’ll be thankful that you…put me down yourself.”

  “But you’re my dad! I can’t…kill you!” Abby protested.

  “Bug, that’s exactly why you need to do it: you’re my daughter. This is part of growing up, this handling of your own affairs. I’m not gonna be around any longer to do the things you don’t want to do, so you’ve gotta handle it yourself.”

  Abby sighed and wiped away her tears. “Okay,” she whispered. She pulled her own pistol out of her trousers and checked to make sure there was a round in the chamber.

  They stayed staring at each other for a long time,
both wishing that what was to come could somehow be avoided. But it had to be done, and they both knew it. Abby slowly stood up, took a step forward, and hugged Zach tightly. “I love you, Zach. I’ll never forget you.”

  “I love you too, my dear Abigail.”

  Abby held him close for several seconds, knowing that this would be the last hug she could ever share with Zach. She slowly released him and then backed up a couple paces, lifted her gun, and looked away.

  “Wait,” Zach said. Abby looked back at him. “Please don’t look away,” he said. “I want your eyes to be the last thing I see before I go.”

  “Okay,” Abby whimpered. She brought the pistol back up and aimed at Zach’s head. Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision, but she still saw Zach’s face clearly. His dark, onyx eyes were filled with sadness but still burned with strength. She wanted to look away, but she forced herself to lock eyes with Zach. “He never asked me for anything, not until the very end,” she thought somberly.

  Abby slowly put pressure on the trigger, as slowly as she was able. Memories flooded her mind again as she did so. She thought about all the happy times she’d had with Zach: all the laughs and private jokes they’d shared, all the games they’d played, all the times they had bonded like a real father and daughter. He had been such a huge part of her life, and if not for him she would have died a long time ago. But now he was being taken away. At a time when she needed him more than ever before, he was being taken away.

  Finally, she felt the trigger reach the point of no return. The slightest movement would now activate the gun’s inner workings and fire the 9mm bullet.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” Abby thought, and then she squeezed the trigger.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Zach stared into Abby’s precious silver eyes, wet with tears. He knew how hard this was, to end the suffering of a loved one, but he hadn’t been lying when he told Abby that it really did help in the process of moving on.

 

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