by Gibb, Lew
Both women smiled and nodded their heads but didn’t say anything.
Rachel still felt a little awkward, so she turned back to Larry. “If you don’t mind my asking, what were you guys doing out there? And with such interesting weapons.” She nodded at the shovel in Eric’s hands.
Larry patted his machete and grimaced. “We got stuck over at Momma’s house during all that quarantine nonsense. This was all we could come up with since she eats out pretty much every meal or else eats over at one of our houses. She didn’t even have a decent knife like you got, and she don’t like guns much. We were on our way back to my place when the car got stuck in a mud hole.”
He shook his head and looked away as if the memory of how that had happened was too painful, and Gary seemed to shrink into himself. Before Rachel had a chance to think that one over, Larry kept going. “Anyway, let me introduce you to the rest of our little group.” He turned to his right and held out his hand. “These are our kids. Bobby and Lindsey.”
The boy was the one Rachel had followed over the fence. The girl appeared to be about thirteen and looked like a younger, slightly shorter version of Cheryl. She seemed totally freaked out and wouldn’t meet Rachel’s eyes.
“Then there’s Eric and Sandi’s kids, Terri and Cody.”
Rachel waved at the kids as they were introduced. Throughout the introductions, Gary was staring daggers at her. She couldn’t help herself—when no one seemed to be looking, she stuck her tongue out at him. Gary’s looked even angrier than before, pulled another, smaller flashlight from his pocket and he stalked away from the group to poke around the machines that occupied the center of the big space.
“What’s wrong with that guy now?” Cheryl said. Her voice had a melodic southern twang to it. “I swear, he was born unhappy.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Emma answered. “He’s had a bee in his bonnet about something ever since Michael’s no-good baby momma dropped him on my doorstep.”
Rachel felt a little bad about teasing the guy. It sounded like his life hadn’t been easy. “What was the quarantine you mentioned?” Rachel asked. “I heard something about it yesterday, but then everything went crazy.”
Larry spoke up first. “When these maniacs started running around biting everyone, Eric and me both had the same idea to go over and get Momma and Gary and bring her to our house. The phones weren’t working, so neither one of us knew the other was going. I brought Cheryl and the kids so we wouldn’t get separated. While we were all there trying to make a plan, the governor announced that he was implementing a quarantine, and the National Guard decided to start rounding up anyone that looked like they were one of those things.”
“Zombies,” Rachel said.
All eyes snapped to Rachel. The only sound was Gary poking through boxes of what sounded like empty soda cans.
After a few seconds, Larry said, “Zombies?”
“Yes.” No one spoke. Rachel felt like she should back up her claim. “I’m pretty sure that’s the best word for what they are, although they’re not undead. They’re pretty hard to kill, but they seem to die just like normal people.”
“Okay. Zombies it is,” Eric said. “So, we lay low at Momma’s till this morning. When we didn’t see anyone on the streets except zombies, we figured the curfew was over, if you know what I mean. We decided to get to my house and get some weapons and some gear. Then we’re going to Larry’s for some more stuff before heading up into the mountains. My house isn’t too far up the bike path from Emma’s—actually backs up to it. We figured we could avoid the Guard, if they’re still around, and maybe the zombies, too, by going down the path. Well, we got about a hundred yards from Emma’s and ran into a soft spot. When Larry’s truck went in up to the axel, we got out to try an’ winch it, and one of them things let out a scream. Next thing we know, they’re coming from everywhere, and we’re running for our lives.”
“Yeah.” Rachel nodded. “They seem to be attracted to that scream. So how far is it to your house from here?”
“From here, I think it’s still about a half mile. I’m not sure though. With that many of them zombies roaming around, I don’t know how we’re going to get there.”
Cheryl shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m not going back out there unless we have a lot better plan than the last time.”
Sandi nodded her head and looked at her husband. “Yeah. We need to get a lot more prepared before I take my kids out of here.” Her eyes were wide and glassy with impending tears.
Emma changed the subject. “So what’s your story, Rachel? What’re you doing heading back into Denver? From what we saw on TV before they stopped broadcasting last night, it looked like everyone with any sense was trying to get out.”
“My husband and my dogs are there,” Rachel began. “Or, at least, I hope they are. The house is was the first rendezvous point.”
“Wait a minute.” Sandi rested a hand on Rachel’s forearm. “You had a plan for this?”
Rachel shrugged and answered with her best impersonation of Inigo’s situational summary but none of the adults seemed to get her Princess Bride reference. They were all staring at her like she was crazy. The kids were all smiling. She winked at them and continued. “Anyway, my husband and his coworkers are sort of zombie nuts. They sit around talking about them all the time—what kind of weapons you need and food and the electrical grid and stuff like that. One of his friends actually said that first person on the news from Brazil was a zombie. That’s when they started seriously prepping. But I have to admit, I didn’t buy it.” Rachel thought again of the way she had treated her husband when all he had been trying to do was save her life. “I’m lucky I remember the plan at all.”
Eric started to chuckle. “Just got the Princess Bride line.” He smiled. “Funny. So what happens now?”
“If we don’t make it home in a week, then we head to North Denver. They’ve stocked and fortified a fire station there.” Her eyes started to prickle.
“Wow,” Larry said. “Your husband and his friends turned out to be pretty smart.” His eyes were huge, and he was shaking his head. Everyone else looked pretty surprised, too. “It’s just pure dumb luck we survived.”
“Well, if you ever meet him, keep that thought to yourself.” Rachel scrubbed the tears from her face with her sleeve. “He’s going to be hard enough to live with as it is.”
“You have my word.” He smiled. Then he looked serious. “But from what we’ve seen of downtown, you got your work cut out for you. And there’s no guarantee he’s going to be there.”
Rachel nodded. “If anyone survived, it’s Jerry and his friends. They had weapons and clothes to protect them from bites.”
“Looks like you did, too,” Cheryl said. “If you weren’t wearing those clothes, you would have been a goner.”
“Plus, your husband and brother-in-law came along.”
“Well,” Larry said, “you saved our butts, so we’ll call it even. I’m thinking we should probably all stay here till tomorrow, give the zombies a chance to disperse, then head out at first light.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Emma said. No one contradicted her. It seemed like she was the ultimate authority in the group. “In the morning, though, we’re going to have to part ways. No way I’m going back there.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Jerry blinked back tears of frustration as Alberto rolled to a stop at another traffic jam. He flung the passenger door open and jumped out, stalked up to the first car, and kicked the driver’s side door before putting both hands to his hips and staring in the direction of downtown.
They were on a hill west of downtown in an area called the Highlands. The top corner of his building was just visible past a run-down Victorian house on the other side of a vacant lot. They’d gone through three hours of struggle and terror to wind up farther away than they’d been the last time they’d stopped. The zombies were bad enough, but the thousands of cars and dead bodies forming a plaque cl
ogging the city’s arteries that only got worse the closer they got to downtown kept giving the zombies a chance to catch up. Twice, they had been forced to shut down the engine and wait with the windows covered until the zombies had dispersed enough to try again. The last time, it had been over an hour before it was safe to start moving again. They still had to cross Speer Boulevard, plus another major road and the highway, which, from the brief looks he’d gotten, was even more chaotic than Speer.
He heard the ambulance doors open and footsteps approaching.
“This is killing me.” He kicked the car again, wincing at the thump that sounded like a firecracker in a trash can. “I’m going to walk.”
Alberto stopped beside him and dropped an arm across Jerry’s shoulders. The gesture felt fatherly even though Jerry was pretty sure they were about the same age. Alberto was silent for so long, Jerry thought he wasn’t going to say anything. Then he took a deep breath and tightened his grip as if he feared the agitated paramedic might bolt. “You could probably outrun them.”
Jerry gripped the hilt of his sword in both hands. He had been thinking exactly that. The zombies weren’t that hard to avoid.
Alberto nodded slowly, as if he had read Jerry’s thoughts. “You might even kill very many of them.” The man seemed much so much older and wiser than Jerry felt. His big hand kneaded Jerry’s neck muscles. “But if you miss just one, you will never see Rachel or your dogs again.”
Jerry shrugged, not sure he cared if he survived. How could Rachel have survived something that had killed the vast majority of the world’s human population? He had to be deluded to think she would be there waiting for him with a pot of pozole and some fresh tortillas. His eyes measured the distance from where they were to his building on the other side of the highway. He could be there and back in no time. Or they could all walk.
“I would gladly join you if it did not expose my family to so much danger,” Alberto said, seeming to read his mind again.
Holly stepped up to his other side and put her arm around his waist. She looked at him; her eyes were brimming with tears. “You’re like a big brother to me.”
“Besides,” Alberto continued, “together we make a very good team, and sticking together is what is going to keep us alive in this madness. Please stay with us, and we will all make it to your house alive.”
The stress and frustration of the past two days felt like a hand squeezing his heart. Jerry knew he owed them at least as much, if not more, than they owed him. Holly had saved his butt more than once, and Maria had saved him another time. It wasn’t strange to hear that Holly thought of him as a brother. After only two days, these people were all beginning to feel like a family to him. He needed to remember Rachel was a strong and capable person and trust that she would survive until he could get to her.
Maria came up beside Alberto and patted Jerry’s back as Marco and Isabella came around and hugged his legs. Tears flowed freely down Jerry’s face.
“Don’t give up, Rachel. I’m coming,” he whispered.
“Looks like the party’s over.” Holly pointed across the sea of cars to their right.
A pack of zombies was streaming around the taqueria at the end of the block. Jerry had loved their carnitas. He wondered for a second if the zombies were targeting farm animals as much as they seemed to be going after the humans as everyone piled back into the ambulance.
Alberto maneuvered them through a series of high-speed turns that tested the limits of the ambulance’s suspension and tires. They lost the initial big pack of healthy-looking zombies pretty easily by retracing their steps and hiding out in another alley. It was a little disconcerting to see that the people chasing them didn’t seem dead like the kind of zombies he was used to. The thought bothered him for a little while before his mind turned to more immediate concerns—like where they were going to spend the night.
It was getting dark, and Jerry knew the others were humoring him by waiting as long as possible before stating the obvious. Alberto had even suggested Jerry take over the driving, which Jerry had declined because he suspected the wily philosopher was just offering a way to divert Jerry’s mind from his troubles and give him some illusion of control over his fate.
“Okay,” Jerry sighed. “I guess we should see about a place to hunker down for the night.”
“How about that one?” Holly said, leaning in from the rear compartment. She had obviously been anticipating his capitulation and keeping an eye out for a good place. “There aren’t any cars out front and no garage in back. Seems like a good bet no one’s home.”
Alberto nodded. “The area is uncharacteristically zombie-free at the moment.” He slowed and parked directly in front of the house Holly had indicated, a two-story Victorian that looked like it had seen better days. Paint was peeling everywhere, and the gutters overflowed with leaves.
They sat staring at the house for a minute, as if they could tell by looking at the exterior what horrors they might find inside. “We should check the outside first,” Jerry said. “See what we can see through the windows.”
“Who’s going in?” Holly asked, pulling on her gardening gloves. The once-tan leather was stained a dull red.
“You and Jerry can’t do everything,” Maria said, leaning over Holly’s shoulder. “Alberto and I will go.”
Isabella wailed. “No, Mommy! Don’t leave us!”
Maria turned and took her daughter in her arms. “Mija. We have to do this so we can have a safe place to sleep. Jerry and Holly won’t let anything happen to you, and we will be right back.”
The kids looked like they were barely keeping it together as Alberto and Maria climbed the concrete porch stairs. Jerry swept his eyes back and forth. The sun was already behind the mountains, and patches of darkness were forming beneath the bushes lining the left side of the narrow lot. Maria cupped her hands and peered in the large picture window beside the front door, then straightened and said something to Alberto. He turned and gave a thumbs-up as the pair moved back down the stairs and circled around back. Jerry felt his heart rate speed up. He was determined not to let his friends down and felt helpless sitting there, imagining all the potential problems they could get into while he was unable to do anything for them. When the pair reappeared a couple minutes later on the other side of the house, Jerry let out a long sigh. They returned to the house’s front door, and Alberto thumbed the latch.
After pushing the door open, Alberto waited a couple seconds, holding his axe ready in two hands, before he eased his way in. Maria followed with her sword poised for a quick thrust. Holly had been giving her pointers all day as they’d ridden in the back of the ambulance. They had found a flattened basketball on the side of the road and taped it to the ambulance’s rear door so Maria could practice stabbing its Sharpie eyes repeatedly—Holly said if she could hit the target while standing up in the moving, swaying ambulance, a zombie should be relatively easy.
As Alberto and Maria disappeared into the house, Jerry kept his eyes moving, watching for anomalies while glancing at the house only occasionally. Holly did the same from the back door. They had learned the lesson of focusing too much on one thing with the deaf zombie.
Isabella and Marco had been sitting on the bench seat beside Holly, waiting with barely concealed anxiety for their parents’ return. Marco got up and moved to stand next to Jerry. He barely had to duck in the passthrough. “Are they gonna be okay?” he asked, tugging Jerry’s sleeve.
The pleading look on his face almost made Jerry want to cry, and he had no idea what to say. His experience with kids was limited to having been one. Usually when he had a kid for a patient, he could focus on their injuries, or they were so freaked out they didn’t talk much.
Isabella stood behind Marco with her hands on his shoulders, looking at Jerry with a serious expression. “They will be okay,” she said. “Mommy promised. And Daddy is the strongest man in the world.”
The pronouncement seemed to satisfy Marco and let Jerry off the hook. The t
iny version of Alberto and his sister gave each other a hug and settled into the passenger seat to wait.
Ten minutes later, Jerry was considering whether or not to go in after them when Alberto appeared at the front door. He gave a thumbs-up and waved for them to come in. Jerry popped the door and got out, slinging the shotgun over his shoulder as he scanned the area again. Holly popped the side door and hustled the kids out. She followed with the duffel full of food and her assault rifle over her shoulder. Her sword banged against her thighs as she led the kids by the hands toward the house.
Alberto waited at the door, then led them through to the back of the house where he stopped at the large kitchen doorway. Maria was inside, crouched on the dingy linoleum in front of a sixteen-year-old boy in baggy jeans and an oversized t-shirt. The name of a band Jerry had never heard of was printed in rainbow colors across the shirt’s front. The kid looked out from under a flat-brimmed baseball hat with what looked like all the attitude he could muster.
“How about you just tell me your name?” Maria said in a level tone of voice.
The boy’s face twisted into a look of contempt. “Man. I don’t have to tell you nothin’. You come into my house and threaten me with a axe. Now you want me to be all ‘Come on in. Have a seat. Care for a drink?’ No way, mamma. Ya’ll can just move on down the road.”
“Your house, huh?” Maria said.
“You know it, lady. What? You want to see the deed or somethin’?”
“How come the people in all these pictures,” she indicated a mass of family photos covering the refrigerator doors, “are Asian, and you are white?” She was using a calm tone that Jerry figured she had learned dealing with horses. It sounded a lot like the one he used when he had a psychotic patient.
“Man! I’m not saying it was my house originally. But it’s my house now. Yo. Those people ain’t coming back, and I was here first, so it’s mine. You all can just bust a move outta here and get your own place.”