After the End

by Bonnie Dee

  The sound of the door locking behind them reminded Ari of his stint in juvie, only now he was being locked into an outside world that was far more dangerous than detention.

  They moved quickly past debris, abandoned cars and body parts, to the Rent-A-World across the street. This door was also locked, but the display window was smashed so they stepped right it through into the store.

  Bits of safety glass crunched under Ari's boots as he led the way inside. He paused, waiting for his eyes to adjust from sunlight to the dark interior of the building. No working generator here—ironic considering they sold electronics. Or maybe they had one but no one had lived long enough to turn it on. He held his rifle ready to pop any shambling thing that raised its ugly head, but the place seemed empty.

  Derrick beelined straight to the computer department, listing aloud all the things he wanted, as he searched the shelves.

  "You lost me after 'computer'," Ari said. He followed Derrick, keeping alert for any surprises coming from the dark shadows. The encounter with the Korean storekeepers had reminded him it wasn't only zombies they needed to look out for. Frightened humans with guns could be just as lethal.

  Derrick studied the packaging of an air card. "We won't be able to activate this, and with the power down there's no way besides satellite to get on the internet."

  "Just grab anything you might need and we'll find out if it works later." Ari was anxious to get back to the group. He kept running scenarios in which they returned to find the rest of their posse torn to pieces. Images of Ronnie's blood-streaked face or Lila's body sprawled on the floor haunted him. He scanned the back of the store where the shadows were deepest and Hector did the same, keeping his eyes on the street outside.

  At last, Ari couldn't take any more of Derrick's farting around. He stood over him as the kid shoved a package of cable and other electronic paraphernalia in his pack.

  "Come on. Get moving," Ari prodded. "We've gotta go."

  "Aye-aye, Captain." Derrick snapped a salute.

  Ari felt like kicking the boy. The smart-ass attitude wouldn't normally have bothered him, but he was exhausted and dangling by his last nerve. He wanted to close his eyes and not open them again until all this was over.

  Derrick zipped the bag closed, heaved it onto his thin shoulders and followed Ari to the front where Hector stood sentry.

  They crunched through the window glass back into the bright sunlight. Ari flipped his sunglasses down over his eyes and marched double time toward the sporting goods store. He was almost there when Hector called out, "Hey, wait up."

  Ari stopped and turned toward him. The older man lifted his Mets cap and ran a hand through his short, dark hair. "Listen, I can't go back with you guys. I know what we said about sticking together, but I've gotta try to get to my wife and kids. My mind's not going to change by morning. I need to get started now."

  Ari felt like someone had added another stone to the heavy pile in his gut, but he nodded. "I get it, man, but we could really use you. Other than me, you're the only one who knows how to shoot."

  "You're crazy! No way you're going to make it all the way across the bridge," Derrick said.

  Hector shrugged. "I've been thinking about this 'stick with the group' thing. What's out there—" he pointed down the street "—ain't going to be stopped by a half dozen people with rifles. One guy's might have a better chance to get where he's going, sneaking and hiding. Don't matter anyway. I've got to try, for my kids." He paused then added, "Good luck."

  That was it. He turned and walked away, his leaving as abrupt as Deb's had been. What could a person really say after goodbye?

  "Shit," Ari muttered under his breath. He believed Hector was right; a guy alone with no one depending on him could probably survive longer. Ari should take his cue and cut out, go to the hospital and see if he could find his mom. But as he watched Hector's short, stocky frame grow smaller then turn a corner, Ari knew he couldn't abandon the people waiting for supplies and protection. Whether he liked it or not, they'd somehow become his responsibility.

  Derrick pounded on the door. A second later it opened and Derrick slipped inside. With a last glance at the deserted streets, Ari followed.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Six

  The hours since the attack seemed like months. Lila was bone-tired but too jittery to sit down and relax for a few minutes. She felt as charged up as if she'd drunk a six-pack of Red Bulls. To keep her mind from spinning out of control, she concentrated on setting up bedrolls. There were only a couple of camp beds, but plenty of air mattresses and sleeping bags. She located a kerosene stove and camping cookware to heat water, and hoped Ari would think to bring back coffee and tea bags. It was a foolish little desire when the world was coming to an end, but focusing on unimportant details was the only thing keeping her sane.

  "We should hang tarp over the windows," she suggested to Ann. "When night comes, we'll want to have a little light in here but don't want to draw attention."

  Ann went to get a couple of packages of tarp and hooks to hang it on. "Orange, green or blue?" she asked, fanning the squares of brightly colored plastic.

  "What do you think, Ronnie?" Lila turned to the little girl, who was gripping the stuffed unicorn she'd picked up at the subway store and staring vacantly at nothing. "Do you want to choose a color?"

  The little girl's gaze cleared and focused slowly as if she was coming back from a long way. "Um, blue's the prettiest."

  And probably the most opaque for concealing light, Lila thought. "Blue it is."

  She searched for a stepladder in the back room and then screwed hooks into the wooden frame around the window. Outside, Joe pulled the metal grill across the windows for an added safety measure, while Mrs. Scheider covered him with a rifle. The elegant elderly woman in pearls toting an assault rifle may have been one of the most bizarre sights Lila had seen all day.

  When he came back inside, Joe took over the job of inserting hooks while Lila threaded thin rope through the eyes of the tarp and tied it in place with Ann and Mrs. Scheider supporting the weight of the tarp. It was good to be busy, to feel a little useful instead of totally helpless and vulnerable. Lila wasn't a fan of surrendering control of her life and these preparations gave her back a margin of power.

  She began to worry about how much time had passed since Ari, Derrick and Hector had left. How long did it take to gather a few groceries and a computer? Lila slammed the door shut on the images of death and dismemberment that bombarded her and focused on tying knots. Worrying wouldn't bring them back any sooner.

  The already dimly-lit store was plunged into twilight blue as the tarp blocked the afternoon sunlight. Lila left an edge open so they could look out, and she'd just climbed off the stepladder when someone pounded on the door. Derrick's voice was muffled on the other side. Joe unlocked the door and let him and Ari inside.

  "Where's Hector? What happened?" Ann asked.

  "He left for home." Ari's curt tone conveyed his feelings about it.

  So now there were six of them. Lila hadn't even known Deb or Hector until a few hours ago, and yet she felt abandoned. The others in their group had every right to do whatever they wanted, but each loss felt like a cut, another wound in an already painful day.

  Derrick settled down with his computer and accessories and Joe squatted next to him to offer any help he could. Lila and Ann worked on putting a meal together, while Mrs. Scheider sat with Ronnie, talking quietly. Lila overheard her inventing a story about the unicorn.

  As she opened a can of beans—staple of the survivalist, Lila watched Ari standing by edge of the tarp looking out the window. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting him in a halo that contrasted with the darkness around him. Appropriate since he was the nearest thing they had to a savior at the moment.

  She turned her attention to scooping beans from the can into a pan and wished Deb was still with them. She'd have some feminist comment to make about gender roles rearing their ugly heads in a cri
sis—the women cooking, the men protecting and providing. Lila missed her caustic remarks and sarcastic attitude.

  She glanced at Ann, who was making sandwiches with cheese and lunchmeat. The woman had fine, pale hair that hinted at Nordic heritage. Her face was slender, her nose narrow and slightly upturned, her complexion poreless. She looked like fragile porcelain and Lila imagined she had the delicate temperament to match. Ann wasn't the type of woman one would expect to hold up under pressure, but Lila must be stereotyping, because Ann hadn't fallen apart yet. Not any more than the rest of them had.

  "Tell me about yourself," Lila said. "What do you do? Where do you live? Do you have family nearby?"

  Ann paused from smearing mustard on bread and glanced up. "I'm from Minnesota originally. I work as a curator at a small art gallery." A sharp laugh that sounded more like a sob burst from her. "Maybe I should say 'worked'. Nothing is ever going to be the same again, is it?"

  A world where people bought art to hang on their walls did seem light years away from hunkering in a sporting goods store, cooking over a camp stove.

  "The military will get things under control," Lila promised, adding dryly, "if there are enough soldiers left who aren't overseas." She wondered if this phenomenon was limited to the U.S. or if it was happening worldwide. She'd give anything for some news right now.

  "How about you?" Ann asked, plopping slices of bread on top of the row of sandwiches.

  "I attend N.Y.U. No major yet. My parent's aren't too happy about that." A wave of homesickness washed over her as she pictured her mom and dad sitting in their living room watching TV. She ached to be with them.

  "What do you think caused this?" Ann murmured as if they might be overheard, or as if the enormous thing happening all around them was some kind of secret.

  It was Lila's turn to give a humorless laugh. "In the movies isn't it usually some ray from outer space that activates zombies?"

  "I don't know. I never watch that kind of movie."

  The simple picnic supper of sandwiches, potato salad, baked beans, veggies and dip was ready. Ann set out plates, napkins and plastic cutlery in a neat circle and Lila called the others to come and eat. How civilized. How normal.

  She didn't think she was hungry, doubted she could swallow a bite, but surprisingly, once she picked up her fork, she devoured her plate full of food in minutes. The others ate with equal ferocity, Derrick downing several servings before returning to cursing at the computer and his inability to get the air card functional.

  Ari still stood sentry at the window. Lila took him a plate of food and a juice box.

  "Thanks." He glanced at her and she was struck again by the warm brown eyes and ridiculous length of his lashes. Then her attention was caught by the dried blood spattering his shirt and pants. He hadn't taken the time to change into something clean. She should go pick out a shirt and pants for him.

  "How are you doing?" She rested a hand on his arm, thinking about him sawing through that zombie's neck, the sheer savagery of it—and how she'd been cheering him on inside. Apparently her belief in non-violence fell by the wayside in the midst of a zombie attack.

  He glanced at her hand. "I'm okay. There was a family holed up at the grocery store. It made me think of how many thousands of people must be all over this city, keeping hidden, waiting it out. They're sure as hell not out on the streets. But other than hearing one chopper and a few sirens, it seems like nothing's happening. I don't think the military knows how to deal with this, and if it's happening everywhere, maybe the entire infrastructure of the country is down. Help might not come for a long time. We're going to have to rely on ourselves to stay alive."

  The flat way he said it was chilling. Lila had clung to the idea that someone in authority would fix things soon. Rescue would come. But what if there were no police, no soldiers, tanks or helicopters, no Red Cross volunteers with care packages—just more zombies and more dismembered corpses piling up? And what if there was no safe place to escape to? Only more danger beyond the city, and a world that would never go back to normal just like Ann had said.

  She squeezed Ari's arm. "Hey, let me watch for a while. Eat your food and get washed up and changed."

  Ari hesitated and looked out the window. He seemed like the kind of guy who wouldn't trust someone else to do a job right. As egotistical as that seemed, Lila did feel more secure knowing he was keeping watch.

  At last he nodded. "Okay. Call if you see anything happening out there."

  "I think I can handle it. Don't worry," she assured him.

  "Sorry. I'm not usually bossy."

  "You're not being bossy. You're leading. Somebody has to. Go on now." She gave him a little push. "Take a break. You'll feel better."

  "Somehow I doubt that." But he strode away toward the back of the store and the restroom. Joe had moved a water cooler bottle near the sink so they could wash up. Not having running water was a pain, no doubt one of many inconveniences they'd soon get used to.

  Lila peered through the crack between the tarp and the window frame at the street outside. It was astonishing that a city of thousands of people could go dead—pun intended—so quickly. The area was deserted, the abandoned vehicles giving an eerie sense that their drivers and passengers had vanished en masse, zapped away by a space ship or sucked into the afterlife like in some movie about the biblical end times.

  A flicker of movement at the corner of her eye caught Lila's attention. A woman was running down the street. No, not running, shambling in that jerky fashion that proclaimed she wasn't normal. Whatever activated zombies' bodies, electrifying neural pathways to allow the muscles to function, didn't do a very good job of it.

  Lila opened her mouth to warn the others, but the creature turned a corner and disappeared. They were still out there, as if there'd been any doubt. Lila released a shaky breath and scanned the neighborhood with diligence. She watched as the sky went from gold to pink to gray, and then the sun set and the city was plunged into darkness.

  Joe came to relieve her and Lila went over to where the other refugees were arranged in a rough circle around a single kerosene lamp.

  Derrick had dragged over an inflatable raft and covered it with sleeping bags for him and Ronnie. He and his sister lay on its cushioned surface. Mrs. Scheider sat in a folding camp chair with a book in her hand and a battery powered reading light clipped to the book. Survivalist's Medicine Chest was the title. The woman sipped from a cup as she read, as relaxed as if she was cozied up at home with a cup of tea and a mystery novel.

  Ann stared morosely at the kerosene flame. She was red-eyed and her face puffy. She must have spent some time in the back room crying. Lila didn't blame her. She wouldn't mind a good long cry herself, but hadn't really had an opportunity. Besides, she felt more numb than despairing. She must be in shock.

  Ari sat cleaning a gun. No surprise there. How could a brand new weapon that had never been used need a cleaning? But he evidently needed something to do with his hands to keep him distracted. Everyone had their own way of coping. Lila dropped onto the air mattress and sleeping bag set up beside Ari's.

  She looked around at the glum faces and decided to try to lighten the mood. "Is it time to break out the S'mores do you think? Maybe sing some campfire songs?"

  Ronnie's head popped up from her pillow and she sat up, crossing her legs. "I went to camp last summer. I know some songs." Her chipmunk voice warbled surprisingly tunefully, "Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold."

  Lila joined her on the familiar song. "A circle's round, it has no end. That's how long I want to be your friend."

  She glanced at Ari to find him grinning at her. "Girl Scouts?"

  "Eight years." She turned back to Ronnie. "Do you know any more?"

  "Yeah, but everybody's got to sing it this time. It's easy." The little girl's face glowed in the yellow light as she began, "This is the song that never ends. Yes it goes on and on my friends…"

  "Some people started sin
ging it not knowing what it was," Lila came in on the cheerful nonsense song and Ann surprised her by joining in, "And they'll continue singing it forever just because, this is the song that never ends…"

  They went around again and again until Ronnie broke down giggling and rolling back and forth on the raft. She bumped into her brother and Derrick impatiently pushed her away.

  Lila smiled, pleased to see the little girl happy however temporarily.

  Ari looked at her with raised brows. "Really? This is what girls do at camp?"

  "Boys too. Didn't you ever go to camp?" she teased.

  "No. I went to juvie for a while but I don't think that counts."

  "My mom made me go to band camp one summer," Derrick chimed in, "and we never sang weird songs."

  "How about you, Mrs. Scheider." Lila tried to include the older woman in their conversation. "Did you go to camp growing up?"

  "We had a house in the Hamptons so I went there every summer, but there were plenty of bonfires on the beach. However, I'm afraid I've never heard that song. Do you know 'Alice the Camel'?"

  "Oh my God. Things are surreal enough without the singing. Please no more," Derrick begged as Mrs. Scheider started singing.

  But the three women and Ronnie carried on until they reached the "boom, boom, boom" part of the song.

  "Hey," Joe called from by the window. "Keep it a little quieter, okay?"

  Awareness of the danger they were in washed over them like a bucket of water putting out their campfire. Their laughter died and they fell silent. Lila could see Ronnie crumbling, her little face scrunched up as if she might cry again.

  "Hey, Ronnie. What grade are you in?" Lila tried to distract her.

  "Third."

  "What's your teacher's name? Do you like her?"

  "Ms. Tanoff. She's okay." The girl put her chin in her hands and stared at the lantern, her chin trembling.

  "I remember third grade. Mrs. Baumbottom. We used to call her Big Bottom." Lila dredged up a story from her childhood to entertain the girl. "Once I drew a cartoon of her with her big bottom sticking out behind her. The kids were passing it around. Can you guess what happened?"