by Bonnie Dee
My joy at succeeding in our task deflated. Sorrow swept through me for Carl, for Lainie and Jeff, for Denny and all of the others we’d lost along the way. My life had always been full of change, moves to new places, goodbyes to friends I’d barely begun to know. People in my life had never lasted so you’d think it would make it easier for me to cope with loss. But each one struck deep.
My eyes blurred with tears and I sniffled, on the verge of losing my shit. Brian put an arm around me and guided me to the other side of the van. We climbed inside and Daylon drove. He did a U-turn in the road and headed back in the direction we’d come from.
There was a dividing line between scorched earth and flames on one side and untouched fields on the other. Brian’s plan seemed to be working. The wind drove the fire away from Durbinville. Occasionally we passed crews of people putting out any sparks that landed on the opposite side of the road and killing any zombies that came out of the fire.
I leaned forward between the two front seats and nudged Brian in the shoulder. “You did good.”
“Let's see how it works out before you say that,” he cautioned with his typical pessimism. Or maybe it was Midwestern, aw-shucks humility.
Either way, it made me punch his arm. “Think positive.”
We were nearly to town when Brian’s negativity proved right. We came upon a roadblock of vehicles and people fighting to push back zombies. All I could think was “How much more of this can we take?” The fire had died out in that area without really catching hold and zombies were wandering over the scorched earth while people tried to drive them back. If enough of the undead discovered this breach in the line, there’d be no option but to retreat into the walled town.
As Daylon parked the van and we got out, I saw a flamethrower spray a few of the trudging zombies before its fire died, the tank emptied. The lack of gunfire suggested the people were out of ammo, too. They fought hand-to-hand with knives, axes and swords and were losing ground. Protecting the town with a wall of fire wasn’t going to work if the creatures found a way through.
A haze of smoke hung in the air, searing my throat. I coughed and pulled my scarf over my nose and mouth, then took a breath and drew my knife. I was ready to wade into the mayhem when I heard the unexpected sound of chopper blades beating the air. I squinted to look up into the sky. A helicopter flew so low overhead I could feel the breeze of its passing.
I turned to Brian. “Who’s that?”
“Bill Burnham. He took me on a reconnaissance flight earlier today. What the hell is he doing?”
The helicopter flew beneath the cloud of smoke hanging over the fields and a fine mist came from the spray bar beneath the copter's body. Immediately the fire on the land below flared and the field where the flames had nearly died out reignited. The copter laid a steady swathe of fire across the field, filling in the breach and burning whatever walked there. The copter emerged from smoke, turned and took another pass.
“There could be people out there,” Brian worried. “He shouldn’t have done this without telling anybody.”
“Maybe he cleared it with Myers. Let’s go find out,” I suggested. Now that the hole was plugged, eliminating a fresh wave of zombies, the fighters seemed to have the situation under control. I thought they could handle it without our help and I was anxious to get inside the wall and relax my guard at last.
As I turned to go back to the van, I noticed Brian was swaying on his feet, his face paler than the skim of snow that now covered the ground. “Hey, are you all right?”
He looked at me with unfocused, glassy eyes. “Yeah. Fine. Just a little dizzy.” He took a step toward the vehicle, stumbled and started to collapse. I caught his arm.
“Daylon, help,” I called.
Daylon took Brian’s other arm and together we half-carried him to the van and pushed him inside.
“What happened?” Daylon asked as he closed the door.
“He’s been sick all day, feverish and achy,” I admitted.
“Has he been bit?”
I hesitated. “It didn’t even break the skin. It’s just a mark really, not like it tore a hunk of flesh out or anything.”
“Jesus,” Daylon said. “You should’ve told me.”
I felt sick myself, terrified and trembling as I climbed into the back of the van and we drove toward town.
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-One
My head felt like a cement block and my mouth was full of sand as I peeled open one heavy eyelid then the other. I was lying on a bed, not mine. A cot. And there were bars cutting the world into strips. I was in a jail cell. Quarantined. I turned my head on the pillow and the ache behind my eyes intensified. I was so congested I had to breathe through my mouth, which made me happy. Congestion wasn’t a symptom connected with the A7 virus so it was likely I was sick in the good old-fashioned miserable way. A sinus infection maybe.
“You’re awake.”
I turned my head the other way and there was Ashleigh sitting in a folding chair reading a paperback. She put the book on the floor and offered me a cup of water. I sipped from a straw and the water bathed my swollen throat. It was heavenly. When she took the cup away, I croaked, “What happened?”
“You passed out, Superman. Daylon and I had to carry you here. We would’ve taken you home but figured we’d better play by the town’s rules this time. But I think you’re going to have to give up your deluxe accommodations here soon. The vet’s diagnosing this as a head cold and there’ll be worse cases coming in.”
“How long was I out? What’s happening?” I pushed up onto my elbows and looked around. In the other cell there were a couple of people lying on the cots. One of them was Jim Lewis. His eyes were closed and his face bandaged. “Bitten?”
“Yeah. The doc told me to give you cold medicine for your symptoms but says she’s saving antibiotics for worse cases.” Ashleigh put her hand on my forehead. “Daylon’s taken over for you. He’s got things under control so you don’t need to worry. You’ve been asleep for a few hours and it’s almost morning.”
“What about the zombies?” God, sometimes I still felt ridiculous saying that word and the surrealism of it struck me all over again.
“It seems like the worst is past. The fire wiped out dozens of them. That Burnham guy was a real hero.”
“Was?”
“The helicopter crashed and exploded in the fire.”
I thought about what how Burnham had encouraged me yesterday to have faith and stick to my plan. A man doesn’t get anywhere second guessing himself. That’s what’s wrong with the world today, too much namby-pamby waffling back and forth. Well, that and the goddamn zombies.
“I think he was glad to die in action, getting the job done. Better than fading away in a nursing home.”
“Speaking of which...” Ashleigh rummaged in her bag and pulled out a long, knitted scarf. “You’re going to cry when you hear this. Some of the old ladies wanted to do something to help so they started making scarves. I was supposed to give you this yesterday but I forgot.” She wrapped the length of yarn around my neck.
I fingered the bumpy blue and gold scarf and she was right, I got choked up. Or maybe it was the sinus infection thickening my throat. “That’s sweet.”
In the next cell, Jim coughed and the other bed creaked as the person in it rolled over. Ashleigh lowered her voice so as not to disturb them. “You need to sleep more, but take this first.” She handed me a pair of tablets and put the straw to my lips again.
The door of the room opened and several people bearing stretchers came in. Mary Burgess, the lone surviving member of our police force now serving as jailor, unlocked my cell. “We’re going to need these cots and you’ve got permission to leave. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if they bring more. I don’t have any place to put them,” she complained like a hostess with unexpected guests arriving at her party.
“Get someone to bring folding cots for some of the other rooms that can be locked,” I su
ggested. “You don’t have to do it all alone, Mary. Ask for some help.”
Ashleigh handed my shoes to me. “Come on, hero. Let’s take you home.”
I sat up, head spinning, and got ready. I was surprised by how weak my legs felt when I tried to stand. Ashleigh slung an arm around me and helped me out of the cell. I looked at the bloodied bodies of the wounded as the bearers carried them past and felt stupid to be stumbling along, felled by a common infection.
“This is ridiculous. I’m not that sick.”
“You wouldn’t be but you wore yourself out by not sleeping or eating enough. Now you have to rest. Your body’s forcing you.”
Ashleigh was right. I wanted nothing more than to lie in my own bed and sleep for about a hundred years—no fighting, no zombies, just peace. As we walked out of the administration building, snow crunched underfoot, only a little but enough to powder the ground. The sun was rising and I realized I couldn’t rest easy until I’d taken a look outside the walls. I tugged on Ashleigh’s arm. “Let’s go up to the roof.”
“Later. I don’t even know if you could climb the stairs right now and etting chilled is the last thing you need,” Ashleigh protested.
“I can make it,” I insisted and headed for the fire escape. The handrail was freezing beneath my bare hand— I’d lost my gloves somewhere along the way— and the steps were slippery with ice, but I climbed doggedly to the roof. The hood of my sweatshirt covered my head but the stiff breeze froze my face and made my eyes tear up. I walked across roof, leaving fresh tracks in the snow, and stared at the eastern horizon. Smoke hung thick in the air but the sun struggled to shine through it. Most of the land in that direction was scorched bare. No more corn and a couple of burned out farmhouses and outbuildings jutting up here and there. I thought of those A-bomb test sites in the New Mexican desert.
Nothing moved in the landscape except birds flying low beneath the haze of smoke. They landed, pecked at the ground and flew up again as if there was nothing out of the ordinary in their routine. I spotted a couple of pickup trucks and a black van driving toward town.
“Daylon,” I said.
We watched as the vehicles approached the gate then entered. After a last look around, we headed down the fire escape. I was coughing from the congestion in my chest by the time we reached the street. Ashleigh had her arms hugged around her shivering body and was stamping her feet on the ground. “Mother of God it gets cold here.”
“This is only the beginning. In another few weeks, we could go skating on the reservoir.”
“Oh yes, I can just imagine gliding along and having a zombie arm break through the ice and pull me under. I wonder if they’re still splashing around in there.” She paused then added, “I’m sorry about Fes. That was a rotten way to go.”
I nodded. It was impossible to believe I’d never see the guy again or hear one of his football stories. Although we’d never had much in common and he’d tried to drive off Ashleigh, Mike Fessenden had been a part of my life. A friend. I would miss him more than I’d ever expected to.
“I’m sorry about your friend, Carl,” I said.
A car pulled up beside us and I sighed when Janice Myers got out of it, but I greeted her and shook her hand as if there weren’t any bad feelings between us.
“Congratulations. You all did amazing work last night,” she said, pushing a strand of her salt and pepper hair back into place. “A bit destructive, but you saved the town.”
And there it was, always a grain of sand in the sugar.
She got down to business. “How much fuel oil is left in the tanker?”
“I don’t know. Enough to last for a while.”
“What about casualties? Do you have a count yet?” She gazed at me with such composure she might have been inventorying stock instead of people who’d died.
“I don’t know. I’ve been unconscious for a while. I’ll get right on it and write you a report,” I retorted dryly.
Ashleigh suddenly stepped between me and Janice and got right up in her face. “What were you doing last night? While we were out being destructive and saving the town, where were you and your council?”
“There were plenty of things to tend to here. People had questions. I managed the town as I always do.”
“How nice for you, safe and snug in your fortress, ordering people around and then tucking yourself into bed for a good night’s rest.” You arrogant, selfish old bitch. Ashleigh might as well have said the words aloud they were so clear in her tone.
“I was available to whoever needed me at all times, even when I was at home.” You smart-mouthed little brat. Janice’s taunt was also practically audible. “Brian made it clear he wished to oversee his plan so I gave him free reign to do so.”
“And now that he’s done your dirty work, you’re grabbing the reins again with both hands.”
“My dear, I never let them go.”
Ashleigh waved her hand in Janice’s face, ghetto style. “Oh, that’s it. We don’t have to listen to this bullshit, Brian. We’re outta here.” She grabbed my hand.
“Goodbye, Ms. Myers.” I couldn’t keep from smiling even though it made my frozen lips crack. Ashleigh was cute as hell when she was pissed off and defending me. I let her lead me down the sidewalk, but before we got very far Daylon’s van approached from the other direction.
He stopped beside us and got out. His brown face was blood-streaked and his eyes were set in dark hollows. Daylon looked like he might collapse. Janice joined us to listen to what he had to say.
“The mop up crew is about done. We estimated fifteen to twenty people dead and about a dozen wounded. The vet’s doing triage at the front gates but we need to move them some place.”
“The wounded must be quarantined,” Janice said.
Daylon barely flicked a glance at her. “Yes. We’re aware.”
“Four people are already in the jail and Mary’s setting up more rooms,” I told him.
“Good. What about you? How are you feeling?”
“Better. Sorry I passed out on you and thanks for everything you’ve done.”
He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “I checked on the reservoir. The water’s full of bodies and none of them are moving. Don’t know if they’re completely dead or in some sort of hibernation mode from the cold, but we can check that out later. They’re not going anywhere.”
I pictured a pool full of corpses, with Fes floating among them, and blinked to rid myself of the image.
“We’d better tell them what to do with the wounded,” I said. “I’ll deal with that if you want to get some sleep.”
“Nonsense,” Janice interrupted. “It’s clear all of you are dead on your feet. Go home and rest. I’ll make arrangements.”
My gut instinct was to disagree with anything she said, but as annoying as she was, Janice wasn’t an enemy. She knew how to manage people and get things done. Let her do the bureaucratic crap she was good at so long as the power didn’t go to her head.
Even Daylon didn’t seem inclined to argue with her. “I’ll give you a ride. Get in,” he said to me and Ashleigh.
But before I headed to the van I looked at Janice once more. “I haven’t forgotten our deal. I’ll keep my end of the bargain and leave town.” I paused, giving her a moment to swell with victory. “But I’ll be coming back with supplies and the anti-virus. I’m not abandoning these people or being driven away from my home.”
My announcement was followed by silence. The woman’s nostrils flared slightly, the only outward sign of her displeasure, before she inclined her head. “I’m sure everyone will be grateful for whatever you can do. If you’re able to secure a person with medical experience as well as doses of the anti-virus, it would be good.”
I nearly smiled at her response. Whatever someone suggested, she had to amend or enhance.
Satisfied that she’d bestowed her stamp of approval, Janice held out her hand to shake mine. “Be careful out there. I hope you return safely and soon. I mean
that, Brian.” She pulled out her phone and hurried toward the administration building.
“What was that about?” Ashleigh asked. “When did you make an agreement with her?”
“Long story. I’ll explain later.” I was suddenly too tired to string more than a couple of words together.
Ashleigh didn’t push it even though I could tell she wanted to—yet another thing I liked about her—and Daylon kept quiet too. We got into the van and Daylon drove back to my house.