by Tatiana Xavi
“Smart.”
“I was a therapist before the world ended.”
“Didn’t end, just got different. If you think of the world as ending, there’s no point in going on.”
“Very true.”
“Cassidy and I made it to Sami’s second birthday before we started talking divorce. We made it to her fourth birthday before making it official.”
“Another man?”
“It’s why she finally left, but it wasn’t why she wanted to go. She and I weren’t made alike, but we were crazy in heat, and she got pregnant. I come from a family where a man marries the woman carrying his child. I’d have stayed married too. Cassidy drove me crazy, but being married to her wasn’t horrible. She wanted out though, and I couldn’t pretend she wasn’t better off on her own.”
“Where did she live when the plague started?”
“Chicago. Worked in a hospital there as a nurse. Decided to stick it out with the military fighting to hold the city.”
“Parts of Chicago are in an enclave. She could be alive.”
Daddy didn’t speak immediately. When he did, I could hear the fatigue in his voice.
“My friend Paul, the one we’re catching up to. He has a son who joined the Army like his mom, driving his Marine daddy crazy. When the plague hit, Jason was overseas in Kuwait. The government started shipping home soldiers to hold the cities and create safe zones. Jason made it back to Virginia. The last we heard he was part of a group fighting to save DC. While it’s possible Jason’s alive, we’ll never see him again.
“It’s the same with Cassidy. She could be alive in Chicago’s enclave, or she might have gotten out and is living somewhere else. We’ll never find her, though. She’s as good as dead to us, but not knowing gives Sami hope. I know Paul and his wife Sherry like not knowing Jason’s fate. They come up with stories sometimes about where Jason is living now. They’ve got him on an island with a nice girl. Maybe working on grandbabies too.”
Zippy sighed. “I agree not knowing can be a good thing.”
“Did work bring you to the US?”
“No, a man did.”
When Daddy said nothing, I suspected Zippy’s expression caused his silence.
“She’s a good kid, Evan,” Zippy said.
Daddy again fell silent. This time when he spoke, I heard tension more than fatigue in his voice.
“Did those men hurt her?”
“Not like you’re thinking.”
“How about the one in the other room?”
Zippy said nothing, but she must have shaken her head.
“I want her to marry Leo,” Daddy finally said. “He’s a good kid, but that’s not why I want it. If the world hadn’t changed, those two would have gotten married and been happy. This new world stole Sami’s mom and her best friend and the rest of her childhood and innocence. I want her to keep one thing she would have had if the plague hadn’t happened.”
“How far until we get where you’re going?”
“I don’t know. I have no idea where we are now.”
“Kentucky.”
“Yeah, but where? I need to find a map, so I’ll know the quickest way to get to site four.”
“Is it safe there?”
“No, it’s not safe anywhere. Best anyone can hope for is safer. And yes, it’s safer.”
“Why did you split from the group?”
“Sami got hurt, and they couldn’t wait for her.”
“Wouldn’t wait, you mean.”
“You’re right, they wouldn’t,” Daddy said, sighing deeply. “She’ll be happier with the group around, and I can get her those tomatoes she wants. Get her some food, a little safety, and time with Leo. I can give my baby something she needs.”
I didn’t hear anything after this because my dream changed and I was back in the gym where the mustached zombie bit me.
This time, I saw him hiding, but he didn’t attack. Instead, he walked out of the closet and headed for the door. When he moaned, I knew he wanted me to follow him, and I did. He wouldn’t eat me. Zombies killed their own kind, but they never ate them.
Chapter Five
Zombies have stories. Months ago, our group was trapped in a building with a horde outside. For weeks, we couldn’t leave, and our food supplies were shrinking. Hungry and tired, I was also scared and bored. While the grownups devised escape plans, Leo, Ava, Nick’s daughter Haley, and I played a game called “What’s that zombie’s deal?”
Imagining what the zombies were like as people, we gave them back stories. We played the game even after a cold snap rolled through and the zombies hid long enough for the group to escape.
The stories were sometimes fun like when we would see a rough looking biker on a fancy country club golf course or a woman in a bikini walking through a field. We could be very creative with those zombies. Once silence became our constant, I still made up stories for the zombies we encountered. It was a distraction, plus the stories made me fear the zombies less.
Sometimes, a zombie’s condition told the story, whether I wanted to imagine it or not.
As we headed into the frosty morning, I saw one of those zombies with a story. A young mom who had left her home in a car packed with supplies and mementos. At some point, she was bitten on the cheek, probably before she got into the car. The morning we walked by, she held a phone in one hand and a gun in the other. A hole in one window and a shattered second window revealed how at some point she fought back against the zombies now decaying next to her car.
As we walked past her car, the mother zombie climbed out and hissed. While she didn’t follow us, she howled loud enough to alert the whole neighborhood to our presence. Staring at the zombie as I passed her, I kept my ax ready just in case she got hungrier than territorial. She growled at me and looked down at the baby carrier strapped to her. I looked down too and would spend the rest of the day wishing I hadn’t.
Sometimes, a story wrote itself, and I wished this one hadn’t. A young mother who wanted to save herself and her baby. A young mother who fought off zombies and comforted her child until she died and returned. I hoped the baby was already dead by then.
The zombie looked down at the carrier where little legs hung out and patted what was left of her baby. I humanized zombies too much. The half-faced zombie who said “D’oh,” the couple trapped in their house, the zombies working as teams, I saw humanity in them. I even found the humanity in this mother zombie as she comforted the part of her baby she hadn’t eaten.
Morgan made a strange noise when she passed the mother zombie. Like she might vomit, but she didn’t. She kept walking past the zombie who climbed back into her car and moaned into a long dead phone.
I didn’t know why the zombie chose not to follow us except she was territorial and the car was her territory. The zombies who soon gave chase weren’t the territorial types, and they kept pace all day.
We were forced to eat while walking. We did get ahead of them in the morning when we walked over a small hill, and the zombies had trouble with the incline. For ten minutes, we sat and rested. I peed behind a bush with Daddy keeping watch. He also guarded Zippy and Morgan.
By the afternoon, Morgan was in bad shape. She had wet her pants hours earlier because we couldn’t stop again and her bladder was weak from the baby sitting on it. She didn’t complain, even though I knew she was embarrassed. I saw the shame on her face and how she avoided everyone’s gazes. I was still proud of her for not crying or giving up.
Our journey that day began around six. By five in the evening, we were still walking, and the zombies were still following us. More had joined the first ones until we had a small horde of nearly two dozen keeping chase. In theory, if we kept moving, they couldn’t catch up. Except we couldn’t seem to shake this group, and night was coming.
Morgan especially needed to rest. Even after twelve hours, she didn’t complain. She didn’t say anything, but her pace steadily slowed as the day wore on. She also held her stomach as if it might f
all off if she didn’t. Her tanned face was too pale and her breathing ragged.
I took the lead with Zippy close behind. Daddy stayed back with Ryan and Morgan. Every time I looked back to check on them, Daddy would catch my gaze. I knew the look he was giving me, but I didn’t react. Stealing hope from Morgan and Ryan would only make matters worse.
Daddy looked at me the way he did when Mac Rooney twisted up his knee wrestling with a kid zombie. The group slowed down enough for Mac to keep up. We took breaks and hoped to find a safe place to hold up until Mac healed.
Those late summer months were chaotic, and there were no safe places. Slowing down was dangerous, and we were followed by zombies back then too.
We had walked and walked and slept for mere hours before walking again. We kept moving, and Mac fell further behind every day. Daddy looked at me each day, and I didn’t understand what his look meant.
Then one day, when I glanced back to check on Mac, he wasn’t there, and I wasn’t sure what to do? Could we move on as if he never existed? Would the group do the same if I got hurt? Did none of us matter?
That night I cried, holding a pillow to my face to muffle the sounds. Mac Rooney once found me a little bag of Skittles. He could have given it to any of the kids, but he gave it to me. He was a good man, and we just left him behind.
Daddy was warning me again how soon we would leave Morgan behind. Ryan wouldn’t abandon her of course. He would stay with Morgan and try to save her. They would both die, but we would be far away by then, just like with Mac Rooney.
Zippy wasn’t going to stay behind with Morgan and Ryan. She cared for them like she cared for Daddy and me. Zippy, though, was the kind of person who survived. She kept her eyes forward, always on the horizon. She didn’t slow down, didn’t get too attached.
At some point, someone important to Zippy had died, and she’d made a choice. She could die like the one she loved, or she could survive alone. Zippy chose to live, and no one distracted her from this plan.
The sun was a few hours from setting, and we still hadn’t found anywhere safe enough to stop. The zombies were at our backs as we neared a small town. No, not a town, but a shopping and townhouse development, surrounded by woods on two sides.
Zombies were moving around in the parking lot, and we couldn’t make it past the shopping complex without them noticing, not at this pace. Glancing back at Daddy, I knew he was ready to make the decision.
Ryan knew too as his gaze darkened, and his strong jaw clenched.
“You can’t leave us,” he said, helping Morgan walk.
“We’re about to be sandwiched in,” Daddy told him. “We’ll need to run to make it past one horde before the second one blocks us in. Do you understand?”
“I understand you’re leaving a pregnant woman to die.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, but I’ve left a lot of people to die this last year. You know the feeling in your gut telling you that saving your sister is all that matters? That’s the same feeling I have for my Sami. She’s my responsibility. If someone can’t keep up and my choice is Sami or them, I choose her. That’s what I’m choosing now.”
As Daddy walked faster, I looked at Ryan and Morgan who were both staring at me. They wanted me to show them the same compassion they had shown me. They also left the camp because they trusted in me. Since I’d survived out here, they figured they could too.
Except I hadn’t survived. I’d died in an elementary school while the man they presently hated sobbed over my corpse.
“Keep up,” was all I could say.
“Zippy,” Morgan said, pleading not to be left to die.
Zippy never looked back at them. Didn’t react at all. Like Daddy in this way, she accepted the ugly truth of life. Maybe she even told herself Ryan and Morgan wouldn’t risk themselves to save her. Whatever reasoning she used to mask the guilt, Zippy followed my father who was now walking ahead of us.
Hurrying after Daddy, I knew I would cry later. Cry into a pillow over the girl who looked like Kayla and the boy who helped me when I was sick. I would cry over Morgan’s dead baby too. I would cry later, but I wouldn’t risk Daddy for them.
Morgan was nearly hyperventilating as she sped up. Ryan took her backpack and had her lean against him, but they were still falling behind.
Daddy stopped so suddenly Zippy nearly ran into him. Following his gaze, I spotted what caused Daddy to stop. The zombies weren’t sandwiching us in. They were coming at us from three directions with the fourth exit cut off by a large ditch with who knew what inside.
“This is going to get messy,” Daddy said, pulling out Billy. “Sami, we’re going through the parking lot. Maybe we can get into one of the stores and barricade ourselves inside until I can come up with a plan.”
Daddy looked at me as if he was memorizing my face. Smiling at him, I checked my gun.
“Make your shots count,” he said to me and then looked at Ryan and Morgan who had caught up. “You need to keep up or save two bullets for yourselves.”
Ryan glared at my father and then noticed how we were nearly surrounded. The actual number of zombies was under fifty, but they were spread out around us. While some looked too ripped apart to be a threat, most had died of the infection. To reach safety, we’d need to make a path through the horde.
Zippy swallowed hard next to me. “Has this ever happened to you before?”
Nodding, I followed Daddy toward the parking lot. “Cover your throat.”
Everyone zipped up their jackets, leaving less skin for the zombies. I kept close to Daddy, disliking his plan. A townhouse or store wouldn’t be secure with so many zombies knowing where we were hidden. The gunshots would also draw more to the area.
Running into the woods or back where we had come from wouldn’t work either. We knew behind us were a lot of zombies shuffling this direction. Making a run into the woods might be our savior, but zombies had appeared from that direction too. It wasn’t difficult to imagine there were more.
Choosing the best solution, Daddy glanced back at me. “I love you, Sami.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
Nodding, Daddy fired on the nearest zombies. Keeping pace with him, I only took shots I knew I would make. Zippy was careful too, saving her bullets. Ryan just held Morgan upright while keeping pace with the group as we entered the parking lot.
“No,” Daddy said.
Following his gaze, I saw how the gunshots had lured dozens of zombies from the stores. We wouldn’t make it to the townhomes.
Turning back, we fired at the horde behind us. The zombies went down from Daddy and my shots. Zippy hit a few too, but we were quickly squeezed in by the newcomers.
The horde moaned, and some zombies were nearly running. While retreating, we shot the zombies we could. Returning to the entrance of the shopping center, I saw a zombie charge toward Morgan and Ryan who were again behind us.
Morgan screamed, and Ryan shot the zombie. Another rushed at them and then another. I wasn’t sure what to do. I was shooting in front of me, helping Daddy make a path, but Ryan and Morgan wouldn’t last long.
Leaving people behind was one thing, but not since Kayla had I been forced to watch a friend get torn apart. While I’d heard it happening and seen the aftermath, I had never stood by while armed and let them die.
I fired at the zombie pulling Morgan’s hair, its broken teeth tearing at her jacket. The zombie fell, but more were still coming. Too many.
Having stopped moving forward, Daddy changed weapons. Rifle stashed on his back, he pulled out his handguns and told me to run. Behind us, more zombies fought to reach Morgan while Ryan covered her with his body. They tore at his clothes, yanking off his hat, trying to find flesh.
Firing at the zombies attacking them, I couldn’t think of the present, only how Ryan helped me when I was aimlessly crawling around at the camp. My mind returned to Kayla smiling at me while dying, and the mustached zombie who tore open my arm and gave me the hunger.
“S
ami!” Daddy yelled, yanking at me.
Letting him pull me away, I realized it didn’t matter. We were surrounded. No matter how many zombies we shot, more kept coming. There were nearly a hundred now, and we didn’t have that many bullets.
Daddy was figuring out the best route to safety. We would run, and we would wrestle past the zombies, and we would hope to get outside the circle of death. We would at least try.
Then I noticed a zombie with a mustache watching us from the corner of the parking lot. While he didn’t move toward us like the other zombies, he did look behind him where another mustached zombie appeared and then another.
Was being ripped open by mustached zombies God’s way of punishing me for not staying dead the day at the school? Was God being funny?
Making our way around the parking lot looking for a way out, we kept firing at the attacking zombies. Yet I also kept an eye on those mustached zombies who didn’t attack, just standing there waiting for something. When the tenth mustached zombie arrived, I felt a shock to my brain, as if someone slapped me upside the head. I blinked hard, and the pain was gone.
Having crawled next to us, Morgan and Ryan were shaking. Like Daddy and Zippy though, they hadn’t felt the pain that affected the zombies and me.
The horde jerked when I jerked. Now standing very still, almost confused, they were waiting. Some furiously blinked while others growled and hissed. A few lost their balance and fell to the ground. No matter their other reactions, none of the zombies attacked. Even the hissing ones who stared at us, snapping their jaws and flexing their hands, remained where they were.
“What the hell?” Zippy whispered.
Daddy had stopped firing and now stood very still, almost mimicking the zombies.
“Why aren’t they attacking?” Ryan asked, pulling Morgan to her feet.
“It’s like they’re stuck,” Daddy said.
“Not all of them,” I whispered, gesturing toward the mustached zombies.
A dozen of them now, they were dressed identically in blue jeans, white tees, boots, and winter jackets. Some were blond, most had dark hair, but one was a redhead. They stared at us like curious onlookers while casually moving forward. Daddy raised his weapon, ready to fire.