The lights came back on, revealing a great many infected wandering about the streets. Many of them were missing articles of clothing. Cale thought about what Adam had seen, and hoped he hadn’t panicked and run the wrong way. Further down he found Allenby. He followed that until he came to Sheinkin. His lungs were burning, and after every few steps he’d gag. Rotting flesh was easily identified in the night air.
Cale arrived at the house he’d found refuge in the night before, only this time the door was wide open and screams could be heard inside. He entered the house and closed the door behind him. He didn’t want any more of them to follow him inside. Adam’s terrified screams could be heard upstairs. Cale bounded up each step with his rifle at the ready. Just as he’d reached the top step, there was a crash. Adam had hidden in the stairway to the third floor, but the infected had pushed their way onto the stairs.
“ADAM!” Cale shouted.
“HELP ME! HELP ME PLEASE!” the child begged.
Two infected still stood in the hall, waiting for their turn at the stairs. Cale raised his firearm and shot them. In close quarters head shots where much easier.
He yelled at the others on the stairs, “HEY FUCKERS, COME DOWN AND EAT THIS!” He hoped Adam had made it to the top. He switched his rifle’s firing lever from ‘Semi’ to ‘Burst’. Quickly he unloaded on the group, putting down almost all of them. Once the bolt locked to the rear, signaling it was empty, he dropped the weapon. He was now officially out of ammo for it. Cale pulled out his knife and charged the stairs, climbing over bodies as he went. One of them reached up for him, but was met with a stab to the brain. With animal like strength Cale yanked the blade out and found a new target.
He could still hear Adam shouting and crying. Now over the stairway of corpses, he could see Adam was about to be tackled. The boy cleverly held a piece of the broken mirror and tried to stab at the clumsy attacker. Cale was like lightning as he grabbed the man and thrust his dagger through the base of his skull. No more infected occupied the room. Adam’s hand was bleeding; he’d gripped his makeshift weapon too tightly. The child dropped the shard of glass and ran to embrace Cale. He was trembling.
“They followed me in,” he said sobbing.
“It’s okay now.”
“They chased me. I tried to hide but---”
“I know.” Cale hugged him tightly. “We need to get out of here now, okay?”
“But there are more of them out there,” he said, sounding frightened.
“I know. We’ll have to go back another way.”
“Okay,” Adam said, clutching a little wooden picture frame.
He’d accidently smeared some of his blood on it.
“At least he got what he came for,” Cale thought to himself.
He led the child downstairs and to the front door. Adam didn’t want to leave the safety of the house, but didn’t have any say in the matter. Cale had already decided they’d go back to the gas station and hide in the freezer. He was certain he could find his way to it. Holding Adam’s uninjured hand, he opened the door. The street was getting crowded. The two of them ran at Adam’s top speed through an alley. He took him as far as Adam could go, then let him catch his breath. Once back on Sheinkin, Cale took him to the gas station. The back door was propped open by a body. Cale ran up and stabbed it in the face before it had time to get up.
Now in the hall that Cale was familiar with, they entered the freezer. Once inside Cale sealed the door. All they had to do was wait, and the infected would lose their scent and wander off again. The power was on the fritz again. It would come on for a few seconds, and then shut off again. Cale took this time to look at Adam’s hand. He’d cut it pretty deep but it would be okay. Cale used his knife and cut away some of his clothing. He then applied the cloth as a bandage. Adam winced as he tightened it.
“Sorry. Does it hurt?” He asked.
“A little. Where are we?”
“This is where I’ve been getting food and water.”
Adam jumped up and walked to the glass doors. The shelves blocked most of his view, but he could make out the aisles. He recognized them. Gidon would bring him here sometimes for a soda.
“I know where we are!” he said excitedly.
“Good,” Cale laughed.
Just as Adam turned around, a thought occurred to Cale. It wasn’t cold in here anymore. In fact it was kind of warm now. The power came back on, revealing a figure now looming over the boy.
“ADAM!” Cale shouted.
Dillip had a hold of the child now. He was preparing to bite into his prize, when Cale punched him in the face, narrowly avoiding his infected mouth. Dillip’s grip loosened as he fell back into the shelves of juice and soda, breaking one of the glass doors. While he was still on the ground Cale went to stomping on the creature’s head. He stomped till he no longer moaned. He stomped till Dillip went limp and then stomped some more. Cale just kept stomping, only stopping when Adam grabbed his arm and started pulling him away.
Adam was silent. There in the warm freezer Cale hugged the boy and cried. They cried together. Cale wondered what he was becoming. Before, he had felt bad for killing these things, but now he was stomping them flat without a second thought. Together they quietly embraced one another. Cale the protector and Adam the child. After an hour or so he decided it was time to go. He pushed Adam gently away. The boy had tear stains on his cheeks and his hand had bled all over Cale.
“We gotta go okay?”
“Can’t we wait a little longer?” the boy asked.
“Matthew is waiting for us. He’ll worry about you.”
Adam couldn’t argue. Cale opened the door and checked the hall. It was clear. They turned left and made it to the door to the interior of the store. With a loud bang, the back door hit the wall.
“Shit. They’re here,” Cale said.
Quickly he hurried Adam into the front of the store, clutching his hand tightly. Once outside they began running again. Cale fought to maintain a level head in the flashing lights. This city was becoming a nightmarish maze for him. He and Adam made it a few blocks, and then stopped to catch their breath again. They had made it to the Metropolitan once more. Undead could be seen in its large windows. The lights flickered some more. He couldn’t see it but Cale knew the sea was due west. As they ran toward the beachfront Cale could see the massive numbers of undead waiting for them. Cale changed course and went north a block early.
The two of them ran past a bistro, then a Domino’s Pizza.
“Definitely a tourist spot,” Cale thought.
They were almost there when Adam was ripped from Cale’s grip. He turned to see Adam lying face down on the street.
“You okay?” Cale asked quietly.
“SOMETHING HAS MY LEG!” he screamed.
A decayed and rotting hand had reached out of the storm drain and grabbed the boy’s ankle. The creature had a death grip on Adam and with intense strength began pulling him into the drain. Adam began screaming as it bit into his legs. Cale grabbed onto the boy as fast as he could, pulling him back toward the street. More hands shot out of the darkness of the drain and pulled him in. Only his upper torso was visible. Cale pulled with all of his strength, but it wasn’t enough. The boy died in his grip, dropped the picture frame, and disappeared into the darkness. Tears welled up in Cale’s eyes. Another one was dead because he didn’t act fast enough. Cale stood and gazed at the drain and cried for what felt like hours. It was just a black void now, a void where a boy had clung for life, begging to live, pleading for help. Cale reached down for the picture frame, and bloody hands shot out from the hole, reaching for him.
“NOT FULL YET, HUH?” Cale yelled as he drew one of his pistols.
He fired the whole clip into the hole, and still the hands kept reaching out. He threw the empty weapon at them. Carefully he retrieved the picture from the street, and in this surreal moment the lights came back on. There were infected reaching out of the storm drain for him and approaching from every direct
ion, and he held the picture of a happy family in his hands.
The world moved in cruel slow motion. The lights went out and Cale pondered staying there and being eaten. What was he going to tell Matthew? He then thought of his wife and his daughter. He hoped they weren’t experiencing this same horror. He just wanted to go home. The lights illuminated the street once more. They were closer now. Not wasting any more time, Cale sprinted the whole way back. With his last firearm and Zach’s knife strapped to his hip, he climbed over the crates he’d moved earlier that day. Or was it the day before? He didn’t know anymore.
The water splashed, and the dock creaked and groaned as he approached the Freedom Runner. The wind picked up and thunder could be heard in the distance. The smell of rain almost cancelled out the stench of the undead. Matthew stood there looking perplexed.
“Where is my brother? WHERE IS ADAM?” he shouted.
Cale handed him the family photo Adam had died to retrieve. Matthew looked at it in its little wooden frame. The glass was cracked and there was blood smeared across it, faintly, fresh blood. All Matthew could think about now was what Cale had said before going to rescue his brother.
“I’ll be quicker on my own.”
The Greyest of Blue Skies
Cale withdrew the connecting plank and untied the rope from the dock. He entered the drive cabin and placed his pistol on one of the consoles. He started the ignition; the boat’s motor came to life, and Cale maneuvered out of the marina and out into the open water. Matthew solemnly went down to his room with the picture in hand. After moving the vessel a great distance from shore, Cale turned off the engine and dropped anchor. He stood at the stern of the boat, staring at the city. Its lights continued to come on and then turn off. He could see lightning flash behind the ruins of Tel Aviv, but he was too far away to hear the thunder now.
The forceful winds sprayed sea water at his face. The waves were becoming aggressive, but Cale, despite the ship being tossed about, stood like a statue, not bowing to the elements of nature. Quietly he stared. He uttered not a sound. He watched as the storm subsided and the dark sky lightened to grey. Above the clouds somewhere the sun had come up and started his day. Cale was cold but successfully fought the urge to shiver. He thought about everyone he’d lost to get here. Travis and Cacy, and what was left of his company. He wondered if they were still holding up in the Post Exchange or if they were shambling about the base looking for a tasty meal. Staff Sergeant McGregor. He thought about McGregor’s wife and kids eagerly waiting for him to get home, hoping for a reunion that would never happen. Then he thought of Zach, who originally knew what to do. It was him after all, who told everyone how to deal with these things. And Jo, who would never get to welcome him home.
Finally he thought of Adam and the terrified look he had on his face when Cale was helpless to assist him. He was only a child and didn’t deserve to die like that. Still motionless, tears rolled down Cale’s face. His blue eyes shined brightly as he looked out over the water. He’d been standing there all night and hadn’t moved a muscle other than to breathe and blink. He closed his eyes and listened to the water lap against the boat. The wind battered his face, and he imagined he was falling through the clouds and toward the earth. He took a deep breath through his nose then exhaled slowly. He could imagine mountains and forests rushing toward him.
Then there was a familiar metallic click.
He opened his eyes. He was still in this hell. He knew Matthew was standing behind him. Cale turned around slowly, not at all surprised by what he saw. A red eyed Matthew stood pointing the 9mm pistol at him. Cale almost felt he’d deserved this.
“I was going to leave you, ya know?” Matthew’s voice was trembling. “When you went back for our bags I started the engine and tried to leave. Adam stopped me. He was convinced you were some sort of blessing. That you would take care of us.” The pistol shook in his grip.
“I tried to save---” Cale started but was interrupted.
“SHUT UP! Don’t lie to me.” He paused a moment gathering his thoughts. “You’re a liar and a killer. I saw the stab marks on papa and Gidon.”
“They were---” Cale was interrupted again.
“Infected? Yeah right. They were sick. Someone might have been able to help them and you killed them,” Matthew accused.
“They were already dead.”
“NO THEY WEREN’T! The just weren’t themselves. How do I know you didn’t kill Adam?”
This accusation hurt Cale the most. He thought his eyes were all dried up but tears immediately came back.
“I’d never kill---”
“SHUT UP! I don’t want to hear any more of your lies. Tell me, did you use your knife or did you shoot him? That’s his blood on you isn’t it?”
Cale didn’t answer. He just stood there with his arms out as if they’d stop a bullet. Matthew was uncontrollable. He had every right to be.
“Not so talkative now are you?” Matthew sneered.
“It wasn’t like that. He got the picture and we were almost back.”
“SHUT UP!”
“NO!” Cale yelled back this time. “We were almost back and they grabbed him from under the street.”
“What?”
“We didn’t even see them. I tried to help him. He died right in my arms God damn it.”
Matthew fought to ignore Cale’s words.
“You said you’d be quicker alone.”
“What?” Cale was confused now.
“You said you’d be quicker alone before you went after Adam,” Matthew said, holding back tears.
“Yeah. If you had gone with me I wouldn’t have made it in time. When I got to the house they were practically on top of him.”
Matthew hesitated for a moment. Was Cale telling the truth? He stared at the man who rescued him from starvation. The man that continued to give him food from his own stock. Cale had risked his life for them more than once. He even saved Adam from drowning. Matthew lowered the weapon and thought about one of the last things he’d said to his brother.
“Don’t be a baby. We’re not wasting the time to go back.”
They repeated in his head over and over again. Cale still stood motionless hands out in front of himself. Matthew cried some more. Cale took a step toward Matthew. He raised the gun again and Cale stepped back.
“Just put it down. It’ll be okay.”
But it wasn’t going to be okay. It was never going to be okay. His entire family was dead. He was all that was left. If he’d only taken the time to put the picture into his bag, Adam would still be here. It was part of protecting him. He couldn’t live with that always being at the back of every thought. Matthew turned the gun on himself pointing it to the side of his head.
“NO!” Cale screamed as he fell to his knees. “PLEASE! DON’T DO IT!”
“I want to be with my family and there is no other way.”
As soon as Matthew finished his sentence he pulled the trigger. His head recoiled to the side and he fell to the deck of the Freedom Runner. The pistol lay next to his body and blood pooled, then swayed with the waves. Cale screamed at the sky. It was so grey that it almost looked white. He sat there in the cold wind looking at Matthew. Everyone he touched died. It started to drizzle but he didn’t care. He remained by Matthew’s side.
A Three Hour Tour
Cale, who was still soaked, placed Matthew neatly onto the bed. He picked the picture frame up off the dresser and placed it on the boy’s chest. He then positioned his hands as if he were hugging the photo. Slowly, he folded the bed sheet over his body, forming a cocoon around the boy. Cale scoured the vessel for something to bind the remains in. Fishing line would have to suffice. He gently wound it around the body until the sheet was secured around him.
Carefully, Cale lifted Matthew and took him to the back of the ship. It was still raining but the waves weren’t as high anymore. Slowly Cale lowered Matthew’s feet into the water and slid him the rest of the way in. He then watched as the whi
te bundle sank into the depths. He thought about saying a quick prayer, felt it was useless. If there was a God, how could he allow this to happen? Why would he let a little boy be torn apart, then have his brother shoot himself?
Cale convinced himself there was no God. Just humans justifying their miniscule existence under the delusion of being created by something divine, something much bigger than themselves. Like they weren’t just some cosmic accident. Cale looked at the spot where Matthew had fallen. The rain had already washed away his blood. Cale was exhausted. He’d only slept for a couple of hours and he hadn’t eaten since the day before.
Inside his room he stripped away his wet clothing. It stuck to his body like wet toilet paper. Once he’d peeled it all away he stood naked in the room. On the bed lay the pistol and knife. Cale moved into the bathroom and took a shower. Occasionally the boat rocked, knocking him into a wall. The hot water felt good on his body. He tried not to think about anything, but his thoughts leapt from his family to Zach, to Zach’s family, then to Adam and Matthew. The image of a man holding his pregnant wife and a brother with his arm around his little brother was etched into his brain. Matthew looked happy in that picture. The picture he now clung to in death.
Cale shut off the water and toweled off. He crawled under his sheet and began to cry. He was alone again, in a world of zombies. It wouldn’t have mattered if he were in the United States or not. He felt like he’d never make it home. He’d never get to see his little girl again. He’d never get to hold his wife again. It was only fair, because after all, he was the reason many of his friends were dead, the reason some of them would never know the joy of looking down at their baby’s face. Of knowing they helped create that little life.
He cried until he finally went to sleep. Crying himself to sleep was becoming common practice now. After sleeping for a few hours he woke up and got dressed. He was too depressed to eat and went into the drive cabin. The sky was still grey but he could see the city. He started the engine and ventured further out, until he couldn’t see the coast anymore. Then he went out some more. The ship’s electronic compass informed him he was headed west. He just kept sailing, not stopping for anything. Cale continued through the night, and into the morning. He wanted to get as far away as he could right now.
Blood on the Sand (Z Plan) Page 16