Rust, Gore, and The Junkyard Zombie

by Serena Mossgraves

  We had a group who went out daily gathering. This was to keep our supplies from dwindling too much. They didn’t come back consistently with the same amount of supplies or even the same type. They were clearing houses more than anything.

  Chris and Tara had cleared the major businesses before leaving.

  They would eventually start going to the next towns over, but at first, they were staying close. These were the people who would eventually leave and be gone for a week at a time. We had plans in place to make the junkyard a community that would stand the strain of time. As long as the people inside didn’t go off plan. People were the deciding factors in all survival plans.

  We had a working community. There was stress, but that might have been more my imagination due to missing people I loved. I might have just been extra sensitive. We even set up a small church in one of the old outbuildings to aid people with handling the extreme changes in the world.

  I was grateful to have been able to provide a bit of skill to the survivors. My garden and organizational skills meant that we were less dependent on the outside supplies. The gathered supplies helped but were not something that we would die without. We had enough gathered to see us through till the garden was able to support us. I had to retain the hope that this wouldn’t last forever—that mankind had the ability to overcome this. Faith was often all we had in the darkest nights of the soul.

  Lizzie

  I woke up in an ugly faux leather massage chair, and it was slightly disorienting because it was not something I would have had in either home or lab. I avoided things like that in public generally as they were breeding grounds for various viruses.

  I must have been bad off to have slept in that one. I remembered the embarrassment of the shower. However, I was thankful that my niece had been there to assist me. Up to that point, I had not seen much of the ailments of pregnancy. I supposed that I was overdue. I was impressed with the maturity Shara was displaying.

  I wondered how my siblings were handling everything and what was going to happen next. I looked around to see what was around me. The other two chairs were occupied. My niece was lightly dozing in the chair next to mine. My sister was snoring loudly in the far one. I did not know where my brother was.

  I needed to visit the restroom again. Another ginger ale and something to eat would not be remiss either. I decided to sneak to deal with my needs and not disturb everyone else. Chris was standing at the bathroom door when I came out.

  His outstretched hand held the cold nectar of ginger ale. I had never been so grateful to see him. Though logically, I knew that ginger ale was good for the belly, the idea of the cold drink and the sweet spicy taste was better for my morale than it was for the physical. Chris gave me his usual snarky grin. “So I thought that you were getting to skip the sick. Looks like it only delayed for ya.”

  I nodded, annoyed. “So, what’s the plan now? We still headed home?”

  Chris responded with a hug. “Yeah, I was just about to wake Tara. You and Shara will be taking the truck, Tara will be driving a rig filled with supplies, and I will be following in the tank. I suggest putting you together a travel bag…including a bucket for hurling. I figure Shara will be the driver so that if you need to be sick it will not require you to pull over.” To be honest, hearing such a thought-out plan put me at ease. My world was in chaos, and having my brother acting like himself was a relief, but it did make my heart ache for Jimbo.

  Tara

  The next day went easier than I had expected. We got the rig loaded and our small convoy headed home. It was in a strange way comforting to find the junkyard the same. It felt like years since I had seen it last. The walls looked like they had been damaged. There were some reinforcements as well. Even if we were planning to leave again, we were going to have to stay here for at least a couple of days. Chris wouldn’t want to leave Amara too quickly. That would give us time to plan the next step carefully.

  I refused to allow my brother to go all Rambo—which he was all too quick to do—and get his stupid ass killed. For a man who had so fucking much to live for, I swore he was in a fucking huge hurry to meet death.

  In order to keep him alive, we needed to have a better plan before moving. I felt this was where I would be the most useful. I did not have the distraction that he did. Lizzie had the pregnancy and science to distract her. So that meant the planning fell to me. I needed that responsibility. I was someone who needed to have control of my world. The apocalypse took control from everyone, and I was panicking.

  I quickly set up the satellite connections to give us a view of the Middle East. We were able to gather information during this time. We found that the whole world was suffering the dead walking. A few isolated groups were still using the satellite connections and were able to pass information. There were fewer than I would have hoped.

  From what we were able to gather, the human race was less than one-fourth of what it had been before the dead walked. It was a sobering situation.

  We reinforced the fences. We added to the supplies. Once the survivors in the junkyard were settled, we could plan for what was starting to look like a one-way trip. I needed to find a way to make sure that we all survived this. Perhaps that was my biggest weight, the idea that I had to keep everyone safe. It would not be a thing that I could shake.

  Lizzie

  I knew when we arrived back at the junkyard that I would not be leaving with them again. I would remain and be communication on this end. I slowed them down last time. However, I really did want them to take someone in my place. I felt like it was imperative for them to have a fourth member to even out their group. So mentally, I began to search for my replacement.

  I, in many ways, felt like I was interviewing candidates for a very important position. Perhaps I was.

  I needed someone who could fight and would be good for keeping contact with me via satellite. I could not bear the idea of not knowing. How Amara handled it last time, well, I did not know. She had always been stronger than I. I believed that I would have the hardest time picking the person based on trust. There were so very few I could trust.

  In the end, I asked my eldest nephew Jacob to take my place and be the communication link between Chris and the junkyard. Before shit had hit the fan, Jacob was studying for an IT degree. He worked part-time for the police, and he was a closet writer who often studied random things to be sure his writing would be more accurate.

  It meant that he would be the best to fill my place. Even though I felt like I was abandoning my family, I knew that I was not the sort to do well in the field. I needed to find a better way to be of use. I needed to make my skills work instead of trying to be someone I was not.

  Jacob was excited. I thought he was feeling cooped up in the junkyard. With so many to do the patrols, I suppose that one could start to feel themselves blending in. Blending in left one feeling less unique. I could empathize.

  I spent a few days working with Jacob and Shara. I hesitated to tell my siblings about the change. I knew Tara would understand, and I was sure that Chris would approve.

  Still, I delayed. I felt the camaraderie extended because I was included in the plans. Perhaps that was all I ever wanted, to be included in the decisions. To feel like I had at least the illusion of control of my life. Was that not what everyone secretly wanted?

  Tara

  I was not as oblivious at the junkyard as I had been in the past. Our time there after Fort Belvoir was almost bittersweet. I found myself noticing the changes in my community and in the ones I loved. It was the first time I realized that I had not had a drink, and when I realized that, I didn’t want one. I had lost the monkey from my back, but I was not sure it made me a better person. I no longer craved that mind-numbing release. Instead, I was hyper vigilant.

  I saw the cracks in those I loved. I knew this was not going to be able to go on for very long. Everyone was strung tight. The soul of man was not designed to be tested daily, not without relief. Chris, I believed, saw what
I did.

  He arranged for a movie to be projected on the side of the garage. Thank the gods for the old projector he bought from that auction years ago. It was an old comedy, but when you laughed, stress flew out of the mind.

  All of us were unwilling to leave. The junkyard was safe and certain. The outside was chaos and uncertainty. Still, the apocalypse would never end if we sat here and did nothing. Change required action. We spent about two weeks just surviving, reinforcing the fences, and reassuring ourselves those we loved would be able to weather our absence.

  I could tell when Chris was ready to go back out. He started to be more and more of a grouch. He was on edge and ready to bite off the head of anyone who said the wrong thing. Though I was enjoying the junkyard, I packed my bug out bag and helped the other two to prepare. Lizzie would be our ears here, and Jacob would be her link with us. I would miss her and her logical mind, but I knew she was worried she would slow us down. Maybe she would have, maybe not, but we would never know. The morning sickness passed quickly with her, and I wondered if it was more stress related than anything.

  I, in truth, was handling the stress well. I had not even craved a drink in the three weeks since Chris and I had our night in the garage. Part of it was I was in combat mode. Still, I liked to think that a larger part was the fact that I was finally seeing my drinking as an addiction. I was finally seeing myself as no better than the old man. Not such a pleasant thing. I hadn’t thrown away my booze like some did in recovery…after all, alcohol was a medical need. Infection was a terrible thing when it could lead to death.

  Amara

  The two weeks after the group went to Fort Belvoir was near on heaven. Tara was back to what she had been in high school, before the navy. Chris was distracted but still my loving husband. I could almost let myself believe that the world was not going to hell. Almost.

  The goats got loose, and I watched my husband and sons running around chasing them. It felt like a slice of normalcy in the chaos of our life. We had a movie night, I made a huge batch of popcorn, and we watched crappy comedies. For a hot second, all was right with the world.

  Then I watched Chris snap at James over something stupid. The veins in his neck popped, and his face pulled tight. The issue was minor and not something that my easygoing guy would usually stress over. I knew that he would leave again, and soon. I also knew that where he went, so would Tara and Shara. I swallowed the worry, for it wouldn’t help anyone. At least this time I would have communication.

  Jacob was stronger than Lizzie but not nearly as smart. I hoped that her absence wouldn’t harm the group. I considered asking her to go as well. Take Jacob, but go too. I figured Jacob could keep her safe. Maybe I was missing her point. I only knew I would feel safer if all the options were in play. I felt like solving the apocalypse problem would probably take both brains and brawn.

  Now don’t get me wrong…Chris, Tara, Shara, and Jacob were all smart. Still, I felt like Liz would add something that the others lacked. I understood her worry. What mother wouldn’t? I couldn’t let her fear stop the group from having her though. Something told me they would need her.

  It was not a conversation that I looked forward to. I was always slightly closer to Tara, and we had been friends before I married her brother. Lizzie was a few years behind us. I always felt like she was an ugly duckling waiting to find her glory.

  She was beyond brilliant, and if she would have taken the time, she would have been gorgeous. She was too distracted to highlight her better qualities. Still it suited her.

  I watched Jimbo fall over himself to try to attract her attention, while trying not to piss off his best friend. Chris was amused by the pair and tried not to laugh outright when Lizzie was baffled by Jimbo and his antics.

  I always believed that if their father had still been around that Jimbo would have asked his permission to court Liz. Even if it would have been a crapshoot all around.

  Instead, there was an awkward conversation where he asked Chris. I remember the weird look Chris got, the approval, and the compulsory fistfight afterward. Those two were brothers in every way but one.

  Chris was still grieving, and so was Lizzie. Both were too damn stubborn to lean on each other. Both pretended stoicism.

  It killed me. Family should be able to talk, be able to cry together. I was determined to bring them together.

  Lizzie had been avoiding everyone since she returned. I knew why, but I couldn’t allow that to stop me. She was sitting on her porch, sipping something warm and herbal smelling. I couldn’t quite place what tea she was drinking, but I could place the unrest on her face. She did want to go. That gave me the courage to approach the topic.

  “So, Chris and the gang are leaving tomorrow. I wondered if you would go with. I know you said that you would be more helpful here, but I think that adding Jacob with you there will even things out. I believe that your brains will make the difference.”

  She stared at me for a moment. I think that she was mulling over what I had said. She just softly shook her head. Every movement she made was slow and heavy.

  “Well, why the hell not?” I demanded. I was honestly letting my impatience control me. I took several breaths to calm myself. I needed more diplomacy here. “You are scared, I get it. I would be too in your condition. Still, do you really trust your siblings to deal with it alone? They need you!”

  “There is nothing that Chris and Tara can’t do when together. I am just a dead weight,” she whispered.

  That stopped me cold. I had never considered how she saw herself. “Aww, honey. You are not a dead weight. Chris depends upon you for your knowledge of science and your quick mind.”

  She peeked at me, hesitant and unsure, trying to determine if I was yanking her chain. Staring back, I felt like I was dealing with a child more than a peer.

  With a sigh, she finally agreed. “I will go. I just hope you are right.”

  I took the win and left her with her thoughts. I still had my husband to convince. He had been pretending to be happy about Lizzie’s plan. I knew that he would not act happy about the change, even if he secretly was.

  Chris

  Plans around here changed faster than I could fucking keep up with. I couldn’t keep them from putting themselves in danger. I just gave up on stopping any of them. I was going to do everything in my power to assure that this was done; it was all that I could do.

  Packing up to leave was not something that I wanted to do. I really dreaded leaving again. I trusted Amara to handle the junkyard and all of those living in it. It just felt like if I left this time I wouldn’t be returning. The old saying you can’t go home again came to mind, and I was worried that would be my fate.

  We were planning a month out, just in case. We all hoped that our trip would take far less than that. We did not have a luggage limit on the aircraft, but really, I was not inclined to carry a bunch of shit with me. I was an expert at packing light.

  Tara was going to help Lizzie and Shara, and I was to help Jacob. We were going to have to squeeze with five in the tank. Dulles International was the closest airport likely to have a small jet. I could pilot the small Cessna crafts, but the bigger passenger jets were outta my league. Those pilot lessons were the best damn birthday present I ever got. Plus, we needed the smaller craft to be more nimble for landing.

  Satellite images of Saudi were not giving us a clear image. It looked like the entire country had been burned black. We planned to take a small jet from Dulles, and do several puddle jumps. We would fly up to Nova Scotia in Canada. Fuel up at each stop. Then from Nova Scotia, we would fly to Greenland. Next leg would be from Greenland to Iceland. After Iceland we would fly to London. From London we were planning to land in Istanbul. And then from there we would go to Riyadh. We would have to figure Saudi Arabia out when we got there. We only had what we did thanks to Lizzie’s memory. Satellite phone connection would keep us able to talk to those who we were leaving.

  Somehow the adventure of heading into the
unknown was less exciting then it might have been even a year ago. Maybe I was getting old…blah.

  We reinforced the fence, and I helped Amara to restructure how the camp was laid out. We needed to have the space for planting come spring. Even if we solved the issue, the world would take time to rebuild. Survival would still be a priority. Amara, my sweet wife, understood this. She had plans to ensure that everyone in our junkyard came through to the other end.

  Tara

  I wasn’t sure how Amara convinced our Lizzie to go with us, but I was so very grateful she did. I didn’t realize how scared I was to be dealing with this trip without her. Her cool logic made everything seem easier to deal with. The journey was admittedly stressing me out. Packing was easier than both Chris and I had expected. Lizzie and Shara wanted to bring only three outfits and a small bath bag. Shara wanted to bring a small toolkit. Honestly, the three of us were able to put all our stuff in a single duffel. I had to smile when I saw that Jacob and Chris each had a large backpack. For once us ladies packed lighter than the men.

  The trip to Dulles was not the most comfortable ride I had ever had. Shara was forced to share the seat with Lizzie, and Jacob took her seat. My niece and sister were both slight so they could easily fit on one of the seats meant for large men. I have a larger, more muscular frame than my sister or niece. I was given the luggage to sit with. I spent the whole trip contemplating the deaths of those near and dear to me, which Chris would tell you was often my normal—even if it was nothing of the sort.

  Shara

  I had been a hometown girl all my life. That was part of why this all seemed so surreal. I could remember thinking about maybe joining the corps like Dad. The idea was that I would someday go in for a couple of simple tours and then come home to the junkyard. I had plans of living forever in the junkyard. I was not even sure what forever was, but for me the junkyard was where I would spend it.

  I was sure when the shit hit the fan that it would all blow over. We would be back to doing the same shit we always had…but oh, how quickly that fell through. By the time we hopped the plane, I knew that even if we were successful we couldn’t go back to that life ever again. Maybe it was for the best. I couldn’t face the idea of leaving home for the tours in the marine corps anymore. Now I doubted that I would want to leave Dad and the rest for any length of time. Was that healthy? Probably not. Still it was the mindset I had at the time. Staying alert made seeing the new areas, though this was only my second time leaving West Virginia, difficult. When we went to Fort Belvoir, I saw all sorts of things. Beautiful flowers, so many cars…the inside of the tank.