The Breadwinner Trilogy (Book 3): All Good Things

by Stevie Kopas

  Gary’s hands began to shake again as he brought the stack of drawings over and dropped them on the coffee table in front of Andrew. Andrew looked puzzled at first but then his eyes fell upon the lifelike portrait of his dead fiancée.

  He reached out and gently stroked the face in the drawing, his eyes welling up with tears. He smiled and looked up at Gary, not understanding the disgust in his expression.

  “No one’s dying in this room.” Gary spoke. “And you’ll have plenty of reason to leave once you have a look through those.”

  VII

  Andrew’s face grew hot and he felt a wave of nausea come over him. The sketches of his dead fiancée trembled in his hands and he looked from his brother to Gary and back to Clyde again. The room began to spin and he let out an exasperated cry as he began to hyperventilate. He sprang up from the couch and ran to the sliding glass door, throwing it open. He rushed out into the late afternoon sun, vomiting the contents of his stomach over the railing.

  “Drew!” Clyde called out to his brother.

  “Leave him be,” Gary said quietly. “Let him take it in.”

  The two men could hear Andrew’s hushed sobs and Gary moved to the balcony door. “We’re right here when you’re ready,” he said as he slid the door shut.

  Andrew allowed the door to close without any further conversation. His sobs rocked his broad shoulders and he looked up to the sky, ready to curse God. Ready to throw himself from the balcony and end his suffering right then and there. His fate was sealed, he was a dying man. A dying man who just found out that the love of his life had been murdered… and he wanted nothing more than to be rejoined with her.

  But as he looked up, he couldn’t help but notice an enormous white bird, flying solo, overhead. He was never a Birder, but he knew a Great White Egret when he saw one, even from such a great distance away. They were getting rarer in the Southeast, and he’d always remember the first time he ever saw one.

  Andrew was five years old, visiting his grandfather on the Alabama coast. They were out fishing and hours had passed before he finally saw the end of his pole move. He jumped up and hollered for his grandpa in excitement as he struggled with the fishing pole on the small craft. He remembered the way his heart raced as his grandfather rushed over to help him reel in his very first catch.

  As soon as that fish left the water it was gone. Andrew saw the shadow before he heard the wings and the biggest bird he’d ever seen swooped down and stole his fish.

  “Grandpa!” Andrew hid behind the old man, terrified of the large, white bird.

  His grandfather chuckled, patting the small boy on the head. “Ain’t nothin’ to be scared of. Come on,” he picked the boy up and pointed out over the water at the beautiful thief, fish in mouth, gliding through the air. “Ain’t he pretty?”

  Little Andrew beamed, smile stretching from ear to ear. “He looks like an angel!”

  Andrew found himself smiling again as the memory came and went. It was always one of his favorites.

  He watched the bird soar, the sun illuminating the majestic white feathers that covered the vast expanse of its wings, creating a sort of halo. A final tear rolled down his dark cheek and he wiped it away. “Thank you,” he said to the sky. He watched the creature until it finally disappeared from sight.

  Andrew returned to the living room and rejoined his companions. The undead at the door had ceased their banging and moaning for the time being; the room was almost peaceful.

  “You alright, man?”

  “Yeah, all things considered… I’m alright.” Andrew nodded at Clyde who was chain smoking on the couch, his knees bobbing up and down. He took a seat next to him. Clyde reached out a hand and gave his arm a squeeze.

  Andrew winced in pain. “Argh, watch it.”

  Clyde face-palmed and shook his head. “Shit, sorry, sorry.”

  Andrew smiled despite the pain, appreciating his brother’s gesture.

  “Thank you for showing these to me.” Andrew reached forward and scooped the sketches up.

  “I knew you needed to see them.” Gary leaned back in the recliner and crossed his arms.

  Andrew bit his lip as he stared down at the life-like portrait of Juliette. As much as it was a brutal reminder of what he’d lost, it was the most beautiful thing he’d held in his hands since the day she died. A beautiful homage, made by the ugliest person he knew. He scowled at the thought of Michelle and folded up the portrait, leaning back slightly, placing it in his pocket.

  “So now, the million dollar question is, what do you want to do about it?” Gary extended his hand and motioned for Clyde to toss him the dwindling pack of cigarettes.

  “Me?” Andrew looked up at Gary, who lit a cigarette in response.

  Andrew thought long and hard as he stared down at the wickedness before him, the picture by picture version of his worst nightmare.

  He closed his eyes and found himself praying again, praying for a sign that he had not been forsaken. That the plan unfolding in his mind was the righteous path. It felt like a lifetime passed and suddenly the dead outside the door began to wail once more. Furious fists pounded at the heavy door and the sound of nails clawing to get in filled the room once more.

  Andrew’s eyes popped open, Just the sign I was looking for.

  “You wanna know what I plan to do about it?” He looked from Gary to Clyde, anxiety etched in both their faces as they awaited Andrew’s next statement.

  He reached for his bag at his feet and shoved the remaining death-sketches inside, slamming it down on the coffee table with a bang. He stood and took a deep breath in. “The book of Exodus, 21:12 and 14.” He exhaled slowly and Clyde rolled his eyes as his brother continued. “He that smites a man, so that he die, shall be surely put to death. But if a man come presumptuously on his neighbor, to slay him with guile, you shall take him from my altar, that he may die.”

  Clyde waved a hand in the air, “Uh… layman’s terms, please?” He raised his eye brows and looked expectantly at his brother.

  Andrew turned to Clyde and smiled. “It means I’m gonna take these drawings to her” he pointed at his bag, “and I’m gonna shove them down her fuckin’ throat.”

  VIII

  Andrew’s words were like music to Gary’s ears. He led the way to one of the bedrooms in the condo and pulled open the double doors of a walk-in closet. “It’s not much, but it’s more than what we’ve got now.”

  Clyde raised an eyebrow. “Mother, may I?”

  Gary swept his arm forward. “Yes, you may.”

  Clyde dropped to his knees and began sorting through the firearms before him.

  Andrew let out a laugh behind him. “You and these damn homemade explosives, man.” He stepped into the closet and reached down, picking up a pipe bomb similar to the one that Gary had used a few months back. He smirked, “I should haul your ass down to the county jail.”

  Gary feigned shock. He widened his eyes and put his hands up in defense. “Officer, those are not mine.”

  The men chuckled and suddenly Andrew lurched forward, thrusting a hand out to the wall to catch himself. Clyde jumped up and put an arm around his brother’s waist, helping to steady him. Clyde looked to Gary, panic in both their faces.

  “Drew, you good?” Clyde tried to hide the worry in his voice.

  Andrew shook his head, “Yeah, I just… my head. I got real dizzy is all.” He straightened and quickly wiped the sweat from his face. He blinked his eyes rapidly, “I think I need to sit for a minute; it’s kind of hard to focus.”

  “Right, come on.” Gary put an arm around the other side of Andrew and helped Clyde half-carry him to the bed in the center of the room.

  Clyde noticed the ashen tone of his brother’s skin for the first time and a lump formed in his throat. He’d never been around someone that didn’t turn immediately. Andrew had been acting so normal since the bite that a part of Clyde wondered, or rather hoped, that he wouldn’t turn at all. But he knew sitting before him, in the body of hi
s brother, was a ticking time bomb.

  Andrew let his breath out in a big whoosh. “I can feel it. The infection. I didn’t feel anything before, but now… I feel it.” He wiped the sweat from his brow once more. “Like a million burning insects crawling around inside of me.”

  Clyde bit his lip and looked to Gary. “If we’re gonna get outta here, it needs to be soon. Real soon.”

  Gary silently agreed and turned back to the closet. “Let’s pick our poisons then, shall we?”

  Andrew remained on the bed while the others loaded gun after gun, holstering what they could and packing the rest into bags. Gary grabbed a small knapsack and placed the remaining pipe bombs inside.

  Once they were all packed up, the men stood in the living room, staring at the front door; despite how long the men had been in there or how quiet they’d been, the dead were relentless. They continued to pound and claw at the entrance, growling in hunger.

  “We’re going to have to try something extremely stupid,” Gary announced.

  “As opposed to… every other decision we’ve made today?” Clyde lit another cigarette and shook his near-empty pack in his hands. He looked at the delicious cancer stick between his fingers and sighed.

  Gary walked to the balcony door and threw it open, letting a slight chill into the room. The sun hung low in the western sky; nightfall would be upon them shortly. “We need to be quick about this. Are either of you afraid of heights?” He looked back at his comrades as he stepped onto the eighth floor balcony.

  “No, no fuckin’ way.” Clyde waved a hand at Gary as he followed him outside. “You’re fuckin’ with me, right?”

  “I wish I was.” Gary sighed, lowering his voice. “We can’t spend the night here. Not with… not with Andrew in this condition. We don’t have much daylight left, we need to get out of this building. Look.” He pointed over the rail to the balcony below them. “Central isn’t like the other buildings. See how the balconies are a bit staggered? I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but it’s our only choice.”

  Clyde looked back at his brother, who stood staring at the front door in a daze. His heart skipped a beat; the change in his brother was overly apparent now. Clyde turned back to Gary, “Do you think he’s strong enough?”

  “I don’t know, but if we wait any longer, he definitely won’t be.” Gary leaned forward and looked down eight stories. He whistled through his teeth. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m terrified of heights.”

  Clyde rolled his eyes. “Great.” He returned to the living room and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

  Andrew jumped, eyes wide, he focused on Clyde’s face and calmed down. “Sorry, I… I think I’m hearin’ shit.”

  Clyde mustered a comforting smile, “We all hear shit sometimes. Now come on, let’s go swing around on the balconies and try not to die.”

  Andrew managed a laugh. “Sounds like a good time.”

  The men tucked their shirts into their pants and strapped their bags tightly to their bodies. They’d stripped the beds of their sheets and braided them together, fashioning makeshift safety ropes.

  Gary volunteered to go first, since the whole thing had been his bright idea. His breath quickened as he swung his legs over one by one and gripped the bars of the rail tightly, squatting and preparing to swing down onto the balcony below. “Here goes nothing!”

  As Gary’s feet left the platform and his full body weight now relied solely on the strength of his arms and chest, he immediately cursed himself for not being in better shape. He grunted as he swung his legs back and held his breath when they came back forward. He let go of the bars and flew legs-forward onto the cement. His heart was pounding and he didn’t even realize that his eyes had been closed.

  They popped open and he looked around, feeling all over his body and the floor around him.

  It’s real, I’ve made it!

  “Gary?” Clyde called out nervously from above.

  “Yeah! Come on down!” Gary grinned.

  Andrew went next, struggling a bit more than Gary. Despite his physical stature, he was growing wearier by the minute as the infection coursed through his veins. Gary embraced the large man as he dropped to the balcony beside him.

  Andrew saw Gary’s smile, and raised him a grin. But both men soon scowled as Clyde gracefully descended from the eighth floor. “Piece of cake,” he said as he landed. He stood tall and stretched his lithe frame.

  “Yeah, yeah, why don’t you go first this time then?” Gary motioned toward the ledge.

  “Hmmph.” Clyde grunted at him and flipped his braids over his shoulder.

  The trio repeated the process for three more floors before taking a small break. Andrew began to feel woozy again, his breathing becoming more labored with each balcony they descended.

  Clyde looked toward the setting sun. “Only four more to go, you got this,” he urged his brother on.

  When the men finally arrived on the second floor, they were drenched in sweat, despite the cool temperature.

  Gary wiped his brow and fashioned a bowline knot with the sheet, securing a way down to the ground floor.

  “Alright, big guy. Almost there.” He comforted Andrew.

  Andrew stepped up to the plate this time, eager to be finished with the physical activity. He grabbed hold of the braided sheet and carefully climbed over the final railing. He lowered one leg down but the other betrayed him, giving out from under him. Andrew slipped from the ledge but held tightly to the sheet. He cried out as the weight of his massive frame slammed his forearms into the ledge. His left arm gave out and he clung to the sheet with his right. He looked up at his brother, screaming above him. Gary’s hand shot out from between the bars and Andrew tried to grasp it, but his vision was too blurry; he’d lost the ability to concentrate as a high fever set in.

  Andrew’s world spun and he knew he was about to pass out. His grip loosened and he dropped ten feet to the pavement below.

  IX

  Clyde wasted no time getting down to the ground floor. He was over the railing in an instant and slid down the sheet like he’d done it a hundred times before instead of six. He dropped to his feet and knelt beside the unconscious body of his brother.

  “Drew!” He put a hand on his brother’s neck and felt for a pulse, taking care not to move Andrew’s motionless frame too much; his skin burned at the touch. His fever was higher than before. “Gary, we need to get him into the water!”

  Gary looked down at the brothers, he frowned and sighed. He’s going to turn before we get out of here, he thought as he lowered himself down to join Clyde.

  Gary shook his head, “Clyde, we shouldn’t move him. What if something’s broken from the fall?”

  Clyde let out a frustrated growl and threw his bag to the ground, pulling out a bottle of water. “It’s gonna be alright, Drew. Drink this, please.” He brought the bottle up to Andrew’s lips and poured a bit onto them. This elicited a groan from Andrew, and Clyde thrust the bottle into Gary’s hands. “Keep feedin’ him water.” He pulled a knife and hopped up, throwing himself up and catching onto the sheet. He climbed up to a safe dropping distance and began cutting away at the fabric. When it finally gave way, he landed safely and replaced the knife on his leg.

  “If I can’t bring him down to the water, I’ll bring the water to him.” Clyde quickly began unraveling the sheets.

  Gary caught on to what he was doing and stood. “You stay with him, let me go.”

  “No,” Clyde denied him. “I’ll be faster. Stay here and keep givin’ him that damn water. Please!”

  Clyde bunched up the sheets as he ran toward the beach. He charged through the pool deck’s gates, down the stairs, and stumbled when his feet hit the sand. He regained his composure and picked the pace back up. He noticed few eaters on the beach as he knelt at the water’s edge, soaking up the frigid water with the sheets. He rushed back to the resort, flying past the moaning dead as they stumbled through the sand in his direction.

  He returned to his
brother’s side and wrapped one of the sheets around his head. Gary helped wrap the others around Andrew’s frame. Andrew began to stir after a few moments, the cold shock helping to bring down the fever at least to the point of his returning consciousness.

  “Hey, man, we’d thought we’d lost you.”

  Andrew swallowed hard, squinting at Clyde. “Shit, me too.” He smirked. “I felt it comin’ on, that’s why I let go, rather hit the pavement unconscious. But I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Not yet.”

  “Good.” Clyde patted his arm. “You feel alright to stand?”

  “I think so.”

  “Gary, help me get him up.”

  The two men helped Andrew to his feet and steadied him.

  “We can’t stay out in the open like this, we’ve gotta get moving, back to the truck.” Gary scanned the area, checking that no eaters were in their immediate vicinity.

  “I have a better idea.” Clyde pointed out to the gulf. “The boat. Let’s get back on those damn Jet Skis and get the fuck out of here. Those assholes back at the car lot would never expect us to come up from the water.”

  Andrew furrowed his brow, lines appearing in his forehead. “I don’t know about that.”

  “I like the idea, it’s solid,” Gary chimed in. “We can pull the boat right up to the marina. It’s not a far walk to where they are. They’ll hear the truck, but on foot, we have the element of surprise on our side. Plus, we need you to get in that water, bring your fever down.”

  Andrew sighed, he wasn’t too excited about going for a swim. “Alright, let’s do this.”

  “My turn to disappear, give me a minute.” Gary took his keys out and unlocked the padlock to the cage running alongside the building.