Dean still lay on the floor, crumpled onto one side. He lay next to the woman that had her head beaten in. Half of the hockey stick still protruded out of Dean’s chest, out of his heart, the blade of the stick making it look like a badly made flag. The other half had been rammed into his eye socket. Pure luck on Misha’s part. Dean wasn’t moving. He must be dead. Even so, Misha still expected him to rise up. He closed the bedroom door. Since the door opened into the room, it was pointless to try and block it with anything. He headed up the stairs, moving a lot faster than he did on his way down to Dean’s room.
The top of the stairs had a door that opened into the living room. The door had probably never been closed the entire time that Misha had lived there but he closed it now. Then he shoved the couch around so that it barred the door. Of course, it might not stop a determined undead, but it did make Misha feel slightly better. Then he noticed the half bath’s door was open. It wasn’t open earlier. When he had run to help Dean, he hadn’t turned the knob. That meant that either someone was in there earlier, when he almost opened it, or someone was in there now.
Misha decided he didn’t want to know and went out the back door. He had no idea where to go from there. He remembered the movement in the house behind his, and the sick-looking neighbour next door. And of course, no matter what happened, he would not go to the grumpy neighbour’s house. That meant going around to the front of the house and crossing the street. Although a path led easily around one side of the house, Misha decided to go around the other side. He didn’t want to pass by Dean’s window. He got scratched up by the untamed weeds, but made it to the front of the house. He focused on the house across the street and started making a beeline for it.
It was when he was about to step into the street that a sharp bark sounded behind him. He was startled to a stop, which in turn, saved his life. A large moving van roared past right where Misha had been about to step. He was so frightened by the sudden appearance of the van that he fell over backwards and scraped his hands trying to catch himself. He sat there for a while, breathing heavily, trying to calm his heart. That was twice today he nearly died. That he knew of anyway.
Remembering the dog bark, Misha turned around. A big German shepherd stood on his lawn behind him, its head lowered, sniffing in his direction. Misha didn’t know how to react to the dog, so he waved at it. It seemed like a dumb idea once he did it, but the dog came closer, keeping low and looking from side to side. When it got close enough, it sniffed Misha all over. Misha was too confused and exhausted to push the dog away. And possibly still a little drunk, although the adrenaline seemed to be quickly burning that off. The dog sat next to Misha and looked around, ears pricking this way and that.
“So where did you come from, eh?” Misha rubbed the dog’s shoulder. The dog appeared to be well groomed but a small bloody handprint in the fur on its side ruined its perfect coat. He also noticed a few twigs and burs stuck in its fur as well. Apparently, the dog had been skulking around in some brush much like Misha. It was wearing a harness too, which he found unusual. However, it also had on a collar and Misha found its tags. He read the name ‘Rifle’ on one of them.
“So you’re Rifle, huh?” Misha rubbed the dog again.
Its ear flicked in his direction when he said its name.
“I kind of wish I had one of your name sakes with me.” Misha read the rest of the tags, including an address. “857 Jackson Ave. That’s not that far from here.”
Rifle whined.
“What? You can’t possibly recognise your address, can you?”
Rifle whined again and got to his feet. Misha turned and looked at whatever the dog was focusing on. A man in a UPS uniform was coming up the street. He was running in a shambling manner. He tripped, got back up, ran a few more steps, then tripped again and repeated the process. He didn’t seem to register any pain.
Misha quickly got to his feet. “So where do you think we should go, Rifle?”
The dog looked up at Misha then back at the UPS guy. He whined, growled, and then whined again. He was shuffling his paws about in an urgent manner.
“I guess anywhere but here is fine, right?” Misha Jovovich decided to head to the dog’s owner’s house. If the dog was loose, it was likely something bad had happened there too, but it was a destination and he thought he might not even go all the way there. Misha thought he’d just get over to the next power grid. Surely, there would be someone there who could help him.
10:
Kara
Kara sat in her bus seat, patiently waiting for her stop. Her cane stood on the floor between her feet, her hands resting lightly on top of it. She needed the cane eight years ago when she had badly twisted her ankle on poor pavement outside a supermarket. She didn’t need it for its proper purpose anymore, but kept it anyway. It had its uses, like now on the bus. The bus was very crowded when she got on, but because she had the cane, and faked that she needed it, a nice young man gave up his seat for her. She felt no guilt about taking it and enjoyed her ride.
At sixty-eight, Kara felt very little guilt about anything. If she took a cab from someone else, oh well, they weren’t fast enough. If she took the last box of cereal that some kid had been begging his mom to get, oh well, it’ll teach the kid respect. If she stepped on somebody’s toes, oh well, they shouldn’t have been standing so close. Kara looked out for herself, and herself alone. She always had, because she always needed to.
The bus rattled and bounced along, the people inside swaying with the motions. Some of them bumped into each other, muttering soft apologies. Kara didn’t even need to take the bus, but she did it anyway. Her family had built a very successful career in groundbreaking sciences. Her grandfather and his brothers had been the key founders of Marble Keystone Pharmaceuticals, one of the largest research and development companies in the world that had gone on to become the Marble Keystone Corporation. Kara’s mother had passed away when she was young, and when her father, who had followed in his father’s footsteps, had died several years ago due to a job-related accident, he left Kara everything. It upset his mistress greatly, but it meant Kara could continue never to work a day in her life unless she wanted to. Her father’s money was now officially hers. Considering he had always gotten her what she wanted when she wanted, very little changed. She still did a few things for the company: going to charity and fundraising events, deciding who was to receive donations, settling a few petty disputes among some of the higher-ups, many of whom were her cousins or second-cousins. She was the one who thought to have the concert they were throwing today for spinal cord research. She knew little about what Keystone was working on specifically, but she knew what the public liked to hear. That was why Kara rode the bus. Being amongst the general public gave her an understanding of their general mood. That, and people watching had always been a favourite hobby of hers.
The bus pulled over to the side of the road and Kara looked out the window to see what stop they were at. They weren’t at any stop; they had just unexpectedly pulled over. Those that noticed groaned, most likely thinking the bus had broken down. The bus driver stood up and addressed the passengers using the little overhead speakers.
“We’re sorry for this folks, but it looks like we’re shutting down,” the bus driver announced.
Kara frowned from her seat near the bus driver, “What do you mean, shutting down?”
“Just what I said, ma’am.” The bus driver lifted his mic back up to his pudgy mouth. “I truly am sorry for the inconvenience but there seems to be some sort of public emergency and all public transit has been asked to shut down.”
Several more groans greeted this announcement. One passenger yelled out asking how he was supposed to get to work. Another mentioned she had a child waiting for her at home. Although on the surface these appeared to be normal disgruntled people, Kara was an expert people-watcher and noted the worry underneath. The bus driver had spoken troubling words.
“What’s the public emergency?” Kara asked wha
t no doubt, most everyone was thinking.
“I don’t know, they didn’t tell us anything. Just to pull over and tell everyone that public transit has been shut down. They’ll probably fill us in later, but I can’t say when that will be.” The bus driver hung his mic back up and sat his plump butt back down into his chair. He really did look like he knew nothing; the passengers’ worry was mirrored in him.
Riders started to disembark the bus through its doors. A few tried to get more information out of the bus driver, but he had nothing for them. The bus driver told some of them they could wait on the bus if they wanted, but that he didn’t expect to move anytime soon. Once a seat next to Kara opened up, Walter sat down next to her.
“Do you want to stay on the bus?” Walter asked her.
Walter had worked for Kara for the past ten years. She didn’t know what official title to give him as he was a bodyguard, a butler, a cook, a chauffeur, a maid, a gardener, and an assistant all rolled into one. Manservant best covered all the bases. Of course, Kara had hired others to fill these roles formally, but Walter stepped in whenever it was required of him. Kara had known him since he was twenty years old, and he had stuck around longer than all the rest had so far. Some of her cousins used to titter about how she always had a young white male following her around, but Kara paid them no mind. Her servants were usually young because they were eager and more malleable, and male because she happened to get along with males better. As for the white part, she didn’t even think about it. Skin colour was never something she paid attention to. She often forgot that the dark skin she had inherited from her mother made her stand out amid the rest of her white family. Her skin, combined with her sharp, bird-like features, made her look completely unrelated to the rest of the flat-faced Taggarts. Kara knew her cousins thought she was one of those people who were deeply into their black heritage and always hired white men as a way of snubbing them in some fashion. She had absolutely no idea why they thought this, as she never showed any interest at all. She treated everyone around her equally.
Kara sat and thought about Walter’s question for a moment. “No,” she finally decided. She got up and headed for the door. There was only one other teenage girl left on the bus. “You’re not getting off?” Kara wondered.
“I’m in no rush to get anywhere,” the girl shrugged, “besides, I have everything I need right here.” She patted a backpack sitting on the seat beside her.
Kara departed the bus. She was amused by the girl who stayed on it. The last time she had run into someone who wasn’t in a rush to get somewhere was many years ago. Everyone was always so busy.
“Would you like me to call for a car?” Walter asked once they had cleared the bus.
“No.” Kara shook her head and strode off down the street. “At least not yet. It’s a nice day. A walk will do you some good.”
Walter nodded and walked alongside her. Kara knew she didn’t need the exercise; she was incredibly fit. She swam laps in the indoor pool nearly every day, ate only healthy foods, and never took the elevators or escalators when stairs were easily an option. She also did yoga on her less busy days. Walter, on the other hand, was rather pudgy and often gave in to temptation when candied and chocolate goods were present.
“What do you say to wandering through the mall, Walter?” Kara had noted they weren’t far from one of the more decent shopping malls that were dotted around Leighton. Kara had seen much of Leighton get built over the span of her life, going from one single, soaring skyscraper, to a decent-sized city with ever-expanding suburbs. It was truly amazing how fast the place popped up considering its size. Construction was constant.
“I don’t mind,” Walter replied.
Walter never minded. You could ask him if he’d like to swim to Antarctica and he’d say he didn’t mind. The only time he voiced an opinion was when he thought Kara’s safety was involved, or when he thought something would be cutting into her schedule. Today however, she had nothing planned. She had taken the bus to her favourite hairdresser and gotten a trim, a pedicure, and a manicure, then got on the bus to head home. A little side shopping trip would fill out the rest of the day nicely. Best to make the most of things.
Kara and her servant continued up the street. When they reached the mall, they didn’t bother walking all the way to the parking lot entrance, but crossed over the little barrier and the little strip of grass. Even though Kara could easily step over the barrier on her own, she accepted Walter’s offered hand of help.
The two of them then crossed the parking lot toward one of the department store entrances. It looked like several other people from the bus had also decided to stop by the mall, whether to go shopping or to wait for rides. For some, this may have been their destination to begin with, and others may actually need the pay phones. Kara was like them; she didn’t have a cell phone. She didn’t like the fact that people could reach her anywhere at anytime. Walter had one, in case of emergencies, but if anyone called it looking for Kara, she wouldn’t accept the phone. That probably also made Walter her messaging service.
They reached the entrance to the department store and went inside, feeling the cool breeze of a powerful air conditioner wash over them. The entrance to the store was surrounded with its usual collection of clothes. They were inexpensive, but Kara knew that cost didn’t always equal quality or style. Sometimes she found something she liked in these places. If it fit and was comfortable, then she’d buy it. Sometimes though, she would only wear it once before deciding that she didn’t like it as much as she first thought and then would donate it to a clothing drive. She had donated a lot of clothing over the years.
Kara led Walter past all the clothes, then the watches and jewellery, and then the makeup. Finally, they reached the actual mall.
“Is there anything you need?” Kara asked her servant.
“Actually, I was thinking of getting some new sneakers,” Walter told her. “I’ve been seriously considering joining a gym.”
“Good.” Kara was an ardent believer in keeping one’s self fit and healthy. “If you promise to join the gym, I’ll pay for your shoes myself.”
Although Walter lived in her not-quite-a-house-not-quite-a-mansion, and worked with Kara most of the time, he did get time off. With the prospect of going to a gym, he was likely to get even more time off. Kara wondered if maybe a woman was involved. That’s usually how she lost her servants. They would meet a woman and want more time off than Kara could give them. If Walter now had a woman, that meant he might be leaving Kara soon. Although the thought of this somewhat upset Kara, she always knew it would happen eventually. Perhaps her next employee would be an older gentleman. Perhaps even someone who had been around for roughly the same amount of time that she had been.
They walked through the halls of the mall until they found a large sports store that sold athletic shoes. Kara walked up to a man who was busy behind the cash register.
“I’m looking to buy a good pair of running shoes for my associate here,” she told the man.
“All right, but I’m very busy. Could you give me a moment?” The man did indeed look to be very busy. There were a number of customers around the store but not a lot of people seemed to be working there. In fact, the man was the only employee that Kara could spot.
“It’s all right,” Walter told the man, sounding almost embarrassed, “we’ll just look around.”
Walter walked over to the wall of shoes. Kara followed him this time. She believed highly in personal service but if the man was busy, then the man was busy. Walter started looking over the athletic shoes, picking up ones he liked the look of and turning them over in his hands. Kara sat down on the bench meant for trying on shoes and watched. She had recently bought a new pair and had no need to browse for herself.
“What do you think of these ones?” Walter held out a shoe.
“The neon stripes are hideous,” Kara told him. And they were too: bright orange with smaller, yellow stripes inside. Kara couldn’t see how anyon
e could think they looked good, but then it seemed to her that younger fashion was about being as daring and garish as possible. Her own clothing choices when she had been younger probably came across the same way.
“Okay.” Walter put down the shoe. He picked another one. “How about this one?”
“Better, but I don’t think the green suits you.” She thought Walter was much more suited towards blacks and greys, but the man seemed to insist on bright, sometimes hideous colour. “Try something with blue.” Blue was better than the red he had turned to look at.
Walter browsed the shoes a little longer and then picked out a white shoe with blue piping.
“Much better.” Kara still thought it didn’t suit him, but she doubted he would pick out anything that would.
Walter looked at the display shoe’s size. “This pair is too small. We’ll have to ask someone to get a larger size.”
Kara stood up and took the shoe from Walter. She walked over to the counter where the man was still busy with something. “We need this in another size.” She put the shoe on the counter.
“I’m still busy,” the man mumbled rather rudely. He was trying to ring up another customer’s purchase but was having problems with the machine.
“I can see that,” Kara quipped. “I’m asking you to find someone else who can help us.”
“There is no one else, lady.” The man finally got the purchase to ring in but he was still agitated.
“You can’t be the only one working here,” Kara huffed.
“Do you see anyone else?” the man snapped, waving his hand to gesture at the rest of the store.
“No,” her eyes narrowed and her voice dropped a degree. She didn’t like people snapping at her.
“That’s because they all called in sick, or just didn’t bother showing up,” the man complained.
“Well, bully for them. I still need this shoe in another size.” Kara didn’t care about this man’s problems.
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