by Steven Pajak
My breath caught in my throat; she looked so beautiful sitting there, so normal. I started into the room and my brother halted me with a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“Easy dude. Looks can be deceiving.”
Shaking Brian’s hand from my shoulder I approached slowly until I was no more than a foot away from her. She did not stir or cast a glance in my direction. I knelt down beside her and placed my hand on her knee.
“I’m home, baby”
My voice cracked. I needed to be strong, but this was hard, so very hard. She did not respond. I shifted my position so that I was in front of her and took both of her hands into mine.
“Honey, look at me.”
For a moment I thought she wouldn’t respond but then her head turned slowly and her eyes locked on mine.
“You…I…” she trailed off.
“What happened to you, honey? Can you tell me?”
Her eyes flickered to the right for a moment, as though she were thinking and then returned to my own eyes.
“You came back,” she said.
“Yes, baby, yes, I came back.”
I put her hands against my cheeks and kissed her wrists. She smiled briefly and then her gaze slid away from me again. Her face went slack and she turned back toward the window.
“Honey, look at me,” I said.
I shook her hands trying to get her attention.
Turning her head again, she said, “Mmmmat.”
“Yes?” I asked. I thought she was trying to say my name.
Her eyes widened and she looked at me with fear on her countenance. With much difficulty, she tried again, very slowly.
“My…words…”
“It’s okay, baby, don’t worry about that.”
The fear in my belly sprung now, uncoiled, and heartburn crept up into my throat, burning something fierce.
My wife looked away again but this time she reached out one hand toward the window and then let it fall to the bed at her side. My brother was beside me again, his hand lying on my shoulder like a weight.
“Look at her left arm,” he said.
I looked and saw the angry red scratches down the inner forearm, each about four inches long, the edges turning white from infection. Red lightning lines of infection zigzagged up to her elbow and down to her wrist.
Brian looked down at me with sympathy in his eyes.
“Come outside. We have to talk.”
“Guh lab oy,” my wife said suddenly, startling me. Before I could respond, she spoke again, “Mas noh.” She swallowed hard and tried once more. “My…home.”
“Yes, this is your home, honey,” I said because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
She turned to me again but this time there was no recognition in her eyes. She stared at me blankly, as though this was the first time she had laid eyes on me.
Her mouth tightened and her eyebrows knitted together in a frown. “Who nah suh?”
“No, baby, please.” I took her hands again, pulling them to my face and covering my eyes.
My tears fell now, wetting her hands. Her skin felt so suddenly hot with fever that my cheeks felt windblown from the heat of her hands.
“Nah ket la,” she said and pulled her hands away, holding them up in front of her to inspect them.
“Let’s go now,” Brian said and pulled me up to my feet.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked stupidly, but I couldn’t help myself.
I turned to my brother and grabbed the front of his shirt. “What the fuck is wrong with her?”
“She’s going to go soon,” he said, grabbing me in a bear-hug. He started to walk us slowly toward the door.
“Let me go, Bri!” I shouted. “Let me be with her, please.”
I fought for a moment, shaking and trying to push him off of me, but I had no leverage and his grip was tight. In moments we were outside of the room. He let me go and turned to shut the door.
Immediately I was at his back, trying to push past him to get back in. Brian turned suddenly and pushed me against the wall with one forearm against my chest.
“Dude, you don’t need to see this, now fucking chill. You have to get your head straight.”
“That’s my wife in there,” I said as if this was news to him. My body slacked, though, and I felt all the energy run out of my body. I looked at my brother and pleaded, “Just let me say goodbye. Please.”
He was quiet for a few seconds and then, “Be quick about. No bullshit.”
I nodded my head.
His forearm relaxed and then I was unpinned. I fixed my shirt and took a deep breath and entered the bedroom. In this room we had created life, two beautiful, exceptional children who no longer inhabited this Earth. In this room, my wife and I had made love, shared our concerns over taxes, and the housing market. In this room, we planned our future and regaled each other with stories of the past.
Now, in this room, we would say our goodbyes and my life would change forever.
I sat beside her on the bed. She did not move at first but when I put my arm around her shoulder, she flinched and then became still. I turned her face toward me and her eyes looked at mine. Her brow was no longer furrowed and she looked peaceful.
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here for you. I’m sorry that I could not save our children. I let you all down and I beg for your forgiveness. I don’t know if I can go on without you.”
My wife continued to stare at me but she remained oblivious, uncomprehending. I moved slowly toward her wanting to kiss her and stopped cold when my brother shouted, “No!”
I turned to him, confused.
“Infection passes through saliva.”
I was dumbfounded, in shock. This was so unfair. I couldn’t even kiss my wife or I’d be infected and become one of the crazies.
In a moment of weakness, I almost kissed her anyway. What did I have left to live for? My children were dead and my wife was good as gone. Why not go together? All I had to do was kiss her and let the infection take me. We could both lie in bed together until what was left of our brains rotted and then someone would come and put us out of our misery. What else did I have to look forward to?
As if Brian could sense what I was thinking, he moved boldly into the room and grabbed my arm.
“Come on, man, don’t do anything stupid.”
I did not struggle this time, but instead allowed myself to be escorted out.
I paused at the threshold and said, “I love you with all my heart.”
As Brian closed the door, I thought I saw the last spark of what had been my wife go out, and what remained was nothing but a rotted, infected brain.
* * *
Brian and I sat at the kitchen table smoking cigarettes. I hadn’t had a smoke in nearly nine years and I was a bit lightheaded.
I took the bottle of Jack Daniels and poured two inches into my tumbler.
“There’s nothing we can do for her,” Brian said. He pushed a strand of long brown hair out of his eyes and puffed on his Marlboro. “I’m sorry, dude.”
I couldn’t get the image of my wife out of my head. When I went into the bedroom and she looked at me with little to no recognition, my heart just broke.
“What did the news say?” I asked. “So these crazies just scratch people or spit on them and all of a sudden those people become crazies too?”
I drank some of the bourbon and pushed it aside. My stomach was sour and the heartburn was back.
“No, it’s not that sudden. Takes a few hours before it sets in then it snowballs.”
“What’s going to happen to her?”
“She’s already past the first stage, forgetting stuff….you already saw that. I don’t think she even knew who you were, man. After that they basically lose their minds. And after that, well, then they get hungry and try to eat you.”
I slumped in my chair and let my cigarette drop into the ashtray.
“Dude, that sounded messed up, I know. But that’s t
he way it is. I think she’s already moved into phase two. Did you hear what she was saying when you went in there?”
“She wasn’t saying anything.” I picked up the cigarette again.
“Well, nothing that you understood. She was just talking gibberish. It was more like just making sounds.”
“Have some fucking compassion!” I yelled and surprised us both. I stood up from my chair abruptly, knocking it over. “That’s my fucking wife in there.”
Brian nodded his head sympathetically. “And she’s my sister-in-law. But I’m just trying to detach myself from that fact and see the truth here. This is happening to us and we have to deal with it. It hurts like hell that one of the only people in this damn family who thinks I’m not a class-A fucking loser is in that room losing her mind. It fucking kills me that my niece and nephew, the best damn kids I ever met, aren’t here anymore. But it is what it is and I have to deal with it. And you have to deal with it, too.”
I picked up my chair and set it right. “Yeah, I’m aware that I have to deal with this. I just need some time. I’ll be fine.”
“Will you?” He puffed his Marlboro again. “You’re pretty fucked up right now, not that I blame you. But I don’t think you’ll be fine, at least not for a long time.”
Sitting in the chair again, I picked up my smoke.
“I know something that will help ease my mind. Once my wife is gone, I’m going to go out there and make sure every last one of those things die. I’ll never know which one got to her, so I’m just going to kill them all.”
Brian put down his cigarette now. He was quiet for a few seconds and then said, “Dude, I like the idea of revenge as much as the next guy but don’t make it your life. If you go out there with that attitude, you’re going to do something stupid and get yourself killed.”
“So? I’ll take as many of them with me as I can.”
“You’re not yourself right now. That’s shock talking.”
“No, that’s me talking. I’ve never felt more sane or sure of my purpose in life than I do right now. I’m going to lead a holocaust. I’m going to lay waste to every last one of those things and leave dead husks in my wake.”
My brother sighed.
I suppose he realized that at the moment there was no use trying to talk logically with me. The fact was, I was out of my mind and I knew it, but there was nothing I could do about it.
We both jumped when we heard the bedroom door bang.
“Holy shit!” Brian bolted out of his chair faster than I’d seen him move in a long time.
Before I realized it I was also out of my chair. I stood for a moment, unsure what to do. Another series of loud bangs issued from down the hall and were followed by the sound of wood giving way.
“Shit,” Brian said. He came to me and grabbed both of my arms. “You have to end this now. Don’t let her suffer like that.”
I said nothing. My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.
“Matt, you have to do it now. She’ll get worse. You have to end it. Don’t do it for yourself, do it for her. I know that’s a shitty deal but you have to do it now!”
A chunk of wood flew from the door and landed in the small hallway. More loud sounds issued from the bedroom as my wife’s pounding grew more intense.
“I can’t,” I whispered. I looked up at my brother; his face was intense and his eyes were serious. “I can’t do it,” I said more clearly.
His grip on my arms grew tighter for a moment. His fingertips dug painfully into the flesh of my bicep and triceps and then suddenly he let go.
“I’ll do it,” he said. “I owe you that much. I owe her.”
He turned away from me and walked down the short hallway. As he walked he pulled his Glock 17 from the waistband of his pants. His hand hung at his side, the muzzle of the gun pointed toward the floor.
Another piece of the door, a much larger portion, arched lazily through the air, bounced off Brian’s shoulder and landed silently on the carpet. A gap opened up in the door now and through it I could see one of my wife’s eyes. It was the eye of one who was insane.
Brian turned toward me now and said, “Wait downstairs. Please.”
Without pause I turned toward the stairs and ran down into the family room as fast as my legs could carry me. I threw my body onto the sofa and pulled several pillows over my face. Harsh sobs wracked my body as I tried to block out the noise upstairs. When the single shot rang out, I cried so hard that I couldn’t breathe.
* * *
That night, we buried her in the rose garden on the west side of our house. It was her favorite place, where the sun seemed to sit for long hours throughout the day. From this very spot you could look down the hill at Harper’s Knoll and most of the homes in our community. It was a spectacular view, and I knew that she would appreciate her final resting place
CHAPTER 8:
Randall Oaks
Several days after my wife was laid to rest, I was summoned by Frank to attend a Community Watch meeting being held at the community center across the way in the neighboring community of Providence.
Bob Brown brought the invitation. For the last few days he’d been organizing our residents and setting up defenses. He looked exhausted to say the least.
Bob and my brother sat at the dining room table while I poured some coffee. When I sat down, Bob said, “I’m really sorry to hear about Alyssa. We really miss her. My wife is hurting pretty bad, as I know you must be.”
“Thanks, Bob.”
“What’s going on at the gates?” Brian asked, quickly changing the subject. I was very grateful.
Bob sipped his coffee and then nodded his head. “I’m glad you asked. We haven’t seen much action at the gates, at least not yet, but out at the roadblocks they’ve had a number of those things they’ve put down. Frank has extra men out there 24/7 now, and he thinks he’s going to need more really soon.”
“Jesus,” I said.
When I checked for news this morning, I found that all of the broadcast channels were down. The few stations that were operating were looping re-runs of shows like Two and a Half Men or NCIS.
I’d tried my cell phone again and found that it was completely dead, not even a dial tone or any messages. Even the land lines were down. The radio was still broadcasting on a few frequencies and the news was more of the same. There were now outbreaks as far away as Hong Kong.
This was getting really serious and I had a feeling it would just keep getting worse.
“Have we got any guys at the roadblocks?” Brian asked.
Bob shook his head. “Not yet but Frank is asking for support. His community is closest to the road but if the crazies break through…I don’t know if we’re prepared for that. We need to give him any assistance we can without leaving ourselves wide open.”
“What’s our overall situation here?” Brian asked.
Bob hesitated a moment. He looked at me and then back at my brother.
“Well, we’re not very organized, I’m afraid. I’ve got five guys right now that are manning the gates in twelve hour shifts. I’ve got two others that alternate patrolling the fence around the perimeter but that isn’t going to cut it.”
Brian shook his head. “If you need us out there, we’re there. And I’m sure we can get the rest of the guys in the community to help out. I’m sure they all want to make sure this place is safe for their families.”
“Thank you,” Bob said.
He took another drink of his coffee and cleared his throat. “They want to help but the thing is, I don’t know if most of these guys are ready for this. I mean, most of them are office workers, managers, teachers, day traders. I doubt any of them know the first thing about guns. I’m afraid to put them out there because they’re liable to do more damage than the crazies.”
“You have to train them, Bob,” Brian said matter-of-factly. “And I bet most of these guys have shotguns for hunting season.”
“They do need training, but I don’t think I’m
the guy for the job. To tell you the truth, I don’t want to be in charge. I’m not cut out for leading. I’m in way over my head here and I’m worried someone is going to get hurt and it’ll be my fault.”
“Easy, Bob,” I said. “Tell us what you need from us. We’ll help you.”
“Look, I’ve talked this over with the guys who are out there at the gates and we all agreed it would be best if you took over things here, Matt. It will be best for all of us.”
“Whoa, hang on,” I said. “Bob, I appreciate the vote of confidence but I’m definitely not the right guy for this.”
“I’m not the right guy for this, either,” Bob said, “but I got stuck with it. And I’m telling you I can’t handle this. You’ve got experience, both of you. I need your help here. Please, I can’t do this, Matt.”
I was about to protest but Brian stopped me. “What do you think it is we can do that you can’t, Bob?”
“First of all you can train these people the right way. I know you were both in the Army. You were a drill sergeant, Bri. These people need someone who can teach them and give them the tools they need to survive.”
Bob turned to me now and grabbed my arm. He said, “And you were an officer. They need a leader like you that they can look up to and trust. I’m not that guy. You are.”
“Bob, I don’t think that’s true. If they picked you to be leader at the gate they must have some confidence in you.”
“I was the only one with a gun who wasn’t too shocked to take action. They think because I’m a patrol officer that I’m prepared for this, but this is totally different. It’s not that they have confidence in me, I was just the wrong person in the right place at the wrong time. Listen, Matt, seriously, I really can’t do this. Don’t make me take this responsibility. I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it.”
Brian and I both exchanged looks and I could see we were both embarrassed for Bob, but I had to admit it took a lot of guts for him to come in here and admit he was in far over his head.
“If Matt takes this responsibility, Bob, it will have to have conditions,” Brian said.