The October Light of August

by Robert John Jenson

  “Sounds to me like you would rather have zombies all over and no one else,” offered Ashley.

  “I don't know,” I said. “I know what to expect from the dead, I guess.” I looked at her directly. “They don't hold me at gun point.”

  I sensed the massive eye roll behind her sunglasses.

  “What else do you expect us to do?” she began. “If you had -”

  “Alright, alright, alright!” her sister interrupted. “Let's not go there again.” Lori looked at me pointedly. “We got it, Holden. People suck.”

  “I never liked that book,” I muttered.

  “How could you not like that book?” asked Ashley, in an astonished tone usually reserved for those that condemned puppies and pandas.

  “I...don't know. Never struck a chord with me. I read Grendel first, maybe? That was my Catcher.”

  They both shrugged, unfamiliar with the reference.

  “Beowulf from the monster's point of view,” I suggested. “One of my favorite books.”

  They shrugged again, and I let it go.

  “Anyhow,” I added. “You two are interested in the Northtown area, huh?”

  They nodded, and so I filled them in on the neighborhood. I found out they had grown up there as well. It was highly possible we had passed by each other in life – little girls on bikes, a zit-faced teenager lost in his own thoughts. I may have dashed the younger one's dreams of some sort of dead-free utopia, but they would have found that out eventually.

  We talked as the sun lowered, swapping personal information reluctantly. I warned them of the traps I had set up in the area's houses.

  “Nothing's going to blow up or anything,” I assured them, explaining what I had done. “I wrote on some doors and stuff to warn people – living people. Far as I can tell the dead don't read. So I'm not full-blown misanthropic just yet. Be careful, though.”

  The sun finally dropped below the trees lining the street – dusty and tired as they were, hardly the shade providers they used to be. Still, they helped cut the glare considerably and the sisters removed their sunglasses. They looked startlingly younger – the lack of makeup, I supposed. Lori's eyes were a lighter brown than her sister's, and had that penetrating quality of pale-shaded eyes. You might think they were both in high school, senior and freshman. Still, their faces were hardened by the times. Lori in particular had dark circles under her eyes. If the world continued on as it was, soon we all would be looking much older.

  Ashley announced suddenly that she was tired, handed over the gun to her sister, pried her boots off, stretched out on her sleeping bag, then rolled over with her back to us and was still.

  “I guess she's going to sleep,” I laughed.

  Lori shrugged her shoulders.

  “She's always been like that. 'I'm going to bed' – boom, off she went. Weird little kid...”

  Ashley shot her left arm into the air, middle finger extended, and we all laughed quietly.

  “I was a night-owl – still am, I guess,” I said.

  “Yeah, I had to be forced to go to bed,” said Lori. “My poor parents...”

  The hush that fell over us felt palpable, covering Ashley like a blanket and easing her into sleep. Her even breathing was infectious, and I stretched out on my back. The sky was still bright blue overhead, but the east was easing into tinges of purple. I wasn't sleepy, but I felt more relaxed than I had in some time. I could hear Lori behind me as she drank some water, then sighed.

  “God, I miss coffee,” she whispered.

  “Oh yeah,” I replied.

  “So. Arthur,” Lori began. I waited for her to continue, then grunted as a prompt.

  “Is it just you up there?” she finally asked. “Other than the zombies, I mean?”

  “I've seen smoke from chimneys here and there,” I said. “I would glimpse someone once in awhile during winter. But honestly, I can't be sure that they weren't hallucinations too.”

  She seemed interested in those, and we got sidetracked talking about my mental shenanigans over the winter. She was fascinated with the details, and laughed grimly when I talked about the audio hallucinations.

  “Sometimes,” she whispered, “before I fall asleep, I hear my mom telling me good night, and that she loves me.”

  I smiled, and we discussed the mystery of the human brain for some time before she guided the conversation back to the possibility of more survivors in Northtown. I told her of the boy I had seen in front of the library, and that I hardly knew everything that went on on the north side. The thought of telling her about the hermit at the hotel just made me feel weary, and I didn't bother. I was certain there were many guys like that out there, and felt that beating up the poor bastard was really nothing to brag about and didn't want it to appear that way if I related the incident. Plus, I had the feeling he would wind up on the losing end of the stick if he ever ran into them...

  “When was the last time you spoke with your parents?” I asked – more blunt than I wanted to be, but I was tired of dancing around the issue. I was almost convinced she was going to ignore me, but then she began to talk quietly.

  “Over a year ago, I guess – phones were still working. The dead were...multiplying by then for sure. 'Stay indoors' we were told – all that crap. I'm sure you heard it too. We assured our parents that's what we were doing, and they assured us the same. My dad was confident this would be over soon – that it couldn't be sustained, that the 'right people would be on it.' I guess we all thought that.”

  “Mmm,” I grunted in agreement.

  “Well, we put up with that shit for about a week. A friend had been teaching us how to shoot and handle firearms for about a year prior to all of this nonsense – guess that was kind of lucky for us, huh? Yeah. So we piled in my car and headed north on I-5 – me and Ashley, her boyfriend and two other friends. I expected roadblocks and stuff – thinking we would make a go of it and then be told to turn back. But only one cop stopped us south of Portland, and all he really did was wish us luck. Soon a lot more cars were on the road, mostly headed south.”

  “Yeah, we had 'The Great Exodus' up here too,” I said. “I wondered where else would be better than here. By the sounds of things, it was world-wide.”

  “Well, you get worried about family I guess,” she replied. “and you get nervous and edgy and wonder what's going on. I expect a lot of people headed for the hills, you know?”

  I nodded my head. Would Jackie and Jesse have taken off for their cabin if the drunken fool hadn't fallen out of his window? What had kept them? Family worries, fear of abandoning them? Believing authority knew how to handle the unknown?

  “You didn't have family somewhere else that you were worried about?” Lori asked.

  “No,” I answered. “My mom was here. Never had any siblings.”

  “Huh. So...no aunts or uncles or cousins – grandparents – you were worried about?”

  I thought about pointing out that she was awfully nosy for someone who had been so tight-lipped earlier. But she seemed genuinely puzzled by my lack of family values so I decided to nip it in the bud.

  “My mom came to town to go to college – a good Catholic girl,” I said. “She met my dad, got pregnant, refused to go back home, married my dad, pretty much got ostracized by the family. Dad died when I was very young. I have met my maternal grandmother once apparently but I don't remember her, an aunt a few times. Don't know much about my dad's side of the family. My mother was a good, honest person who's only real fault was not knowing how to dial things back a bit.”

  I paused, and rolled onto my side and tipped my head towards her.

  “So - my mom died without any of her family ever giving two shits about her while I know for a fact that she was worried to death about them. I feel extremely comfortable not giving a rat's ass if they're alive or dead. Or undead, for that matter.”

  “Oh,” Lori said.

  I dropped onto my back again, and propped my head on my hands.

  “Didn't really have
too many friends,” I continued. “Just never learned to be all that comfortable around people, I guess. So my first inclination was to go it alone. It's worked so far.”

  I saw no reason to say anything about Jackie or any other circumstances that culminated in our rooftop meeting.

  “Fair enough,” Lori said.

  “So. Your parents,” I said, drawing attention back to them. “You never got a chance to...make plans? Nail down some sort of contingency?”

  “No,” she sighed heavily. “That's probably what drove us north. Last time we tried calling – when calls would go through - it went right to their voice mail over and over. So I left a message telling them to stay there, we were heading home.”

  Ashley gave a soft moan in her sleep, then a sharper groan and her shoulders twitched. I heard Lori gather her feet under her and then her boots grind against the roof. Her sister's head rose, then dropped back down onto her arm. Lori knelt next to her for a moment, bent to kiss her sister's shoulder, then leaned back against the parapet and rested her hand atop Ashley's curled fist. Their fingers intertwined, and soon Ashley's breathing evened out again.

  We sat quietly for several minutes. I was content for it to be the end of our conversation for the evening - I probably wouldn't sleep for some time, but I was used to laying quiet and still with only my thoughts to entertain me.

  “If we don't find my parents home,” Lori said suddenly, “I guess our next step will be to head over to Idaho and see if they're at my grandparent's place.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I offered stupidly. She nodded her head.

  “And if they're not there...” She shrugged. In the gloom of dusk I could see a hint of tears in her eyes, and I turned my head away. Women crying has always made me feel awkward – it was rare for me to find the right words to express, let alone find a comforting gesture. Ones that have a gun because they're still not at ease around you, doubly so. Not that I wasn't empathic to her feelings, but I felt she and her sister should not get their hopes too high.

  “If they're not there,” she added, “I guess we come back this way.”

  “I wish I could tell you there's a good chance they're up there,” I said quietly. “I obviously didn't scour every house in the area – any that looked firmly closed up and un-looted, I gave a wide berth. But last summer was crazy, and there aren't a lot of houses like that.”

  “Yep,” she sniffed.

  “Still, it is... manageable up there.”

  She was quiet for awhile, then said, “My big fear is they headed down to get to us. We barely made it out of the Tri-Cities. If they got stuck down there...”

  Silence again. I thought it unlikely they would ever find their parents, but I would rather have shot myself than utter those words.

  “I really hate the Tri-Cities,” I said finally. “Always a pain in the ass to get through there.”

  “I know, right?” she laughed. “Take this exit, then that one then this one – make sure you bear left here. Ugh!”

  We chuckled quietly, and listened to Ashley's breath as it sighed in and out, a gentle rhythm that could lull the fussiest baby into the realms of Morpheus. The sky grew dark, and the stars came out.

  Gravity shifted, the stars pulled at me and I fell into them, and into sleep.

  I woke to the most gawd-awful snorting and growling, and I sat up in alarm expecting to find chunks of flesh missing from me. I heard a small giggle, and turned to see Ashley smirking at me.

  “You should try living with that for 20 years,” she laughed.

  I twisted around, and in the early light I could see Lori sprawled across her sleeping bag. A low rumble began in her nose and clawed its way out of her throat, ending abruptly only to repeat itself in a few seconds.

  “Jesus Christ,” I mumbled. “You two are really sisters?”

  Ashley laughed again, an honest set of chuckles that ended higher in pitch than they had begun.

  “Oh yeah,” she said. “My mom and dad said she got greedy and didn't leave any height left over for me when I was born.”

  “Or volume, apparently,” I said, marveling at the racket the young woman produced as she snored. Ashley laughed, and I wondered how they didn't attract the dead from miles around on their journey north. Life on the tracks, I guessed.

  I stood abruptly, and Ashley watched me warily, her grip tightening on the gun. Oh yeah.

  “Look,” I said. “It's been a long time since I uh...I kind of have to...” I gestured towards the far edge of the roof.

  “Oh,” she said, and shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, okay. Just...do what you gotta do.”

  I moved to the edge of the roof near the telephone pole and looked down. I could see no dead milling immediately below, and I calculated my chances of being able to navigate the pole with a full bladder. I came to the conclusion that I would not and could not pee in front of a woman who looked no older than 14 so I jumped up on the parapet and ran down the pole in several quick steps. My shin hurt where Lori had nailed me with the ball bearing, but I made it.

  I moved to the far corner of the rocky lot, and as I relieved myself I could still hear Lori snoring. Holy cow, I thought. After zipping up, I tentatively explored the area around the store. A few of the dead wandered along Washington, more so down on Boone. None seemed to notice me, so I ran up the pole again and then stepped slowly and carefully down onto the roof.

  “I could hear her all the way down there,” I whispered as I sat down again.

  “We had those nasal-strip thingys and they helped a lot, but she used the last one several days ago. I'd tell her to roll over, but she would just wake up and then get up,” Ashley said, a hint of exasperation in her voice. “I'll tell her to wake me at midnight so she can go to sleep, and it'll be much later than that – always. She'll wake up early and tell me to grab some more sleep. A good night she gets maybe five hours of sleep.”

  “Well, let her have at it then,” I said, and gestured towards the roof edge. “The dead don't seem curious about it - if they hear it.”

  Ashley bobbed her head, and we sat quietly as her sister serenaded us. Shadows stretched across the roof and shortened as the sun rose to warm my head and back. Ashley put on her shades, and I offered her a granola bar which she accepted with a smile and thanks. I got the impression that she was not one to talk much – at least in the morning, and seemed content to stare quietly into space. I was happy to sit and contemplate the coming day as well. Raising our voices to talk over her sister's snoring would have been too much work, and attracted the dead anyways. It was nice not having to feel the need to fuel an awkward conversation.

  Lori woke with a start in a couple hours, looking around in confusion momentarily. She frowned at me, and I waggled my fingers at her in a hello. Her sister chuckled.

  “What time is it?” Lori asked groggily. I checked my watch.

  “Six twenty-seven,” I said precisely. Her frown deepened into a scowl as she turned her head to her sister. Ashley just smiled primly.

  “You,” she barked at me as she climbed to her feet. “Go over there and count zombies for a while.” She pointed south towards the edge of the roof.

  I nodded, stood, and heard her boots march away behind me. I walked over and knelt against the parapet, resting my arms on it. I dropped my chin onto my folded hands, and gazed at the scene below.

  The dead across the street - those that could walk - milled between their dead toys, and the rest crawled and scrabbled over the ground and each other. The dead never seemed to lash out in anger if they bumped into each other. Two wild animals might tangle and fight for whatever reason, but the dead just endured each other. The closest thing I ever saw resembling a fight for dominance had basically been a pushing contest over a body, and I sensed that the dead involved only saw each other as obstacles and not rivals. The great leveler, indeed.

  A great many of the dead would wander into and away from the group in the parking lot, but there seemed to be a core that stayed amongst the
ruined vehicles (I looked in vain for a truck with a makeshift battering-ram in its bed). I had no doubt that if I skipped down the street whistling they would pursue me in earnest, but if I eluded them would they forget and turn back to their familiar territory? Were these like the dead that couldn't resist a closed door? Did they find comfort in the machines that were now useless? None of the vehicles looked unscathed – some had more of an appearance of a carcass than the dead that crawled around them. As far as I could see down Washington, it looked like a massive pile-up converged nearer the bridge.

  I heard footfalls behind me.

  “So,” Lori asked, “how many we got?”

  “It is my exact estimation that there are bunches and bunches of 'em,” I replied.

  I stood up, and we looked out over the mass of shuffling bodies below. There was not a lot to say when confronted with the number of dead we were seeing. Fortunately, the sisters wanted to head in the opposite direction. I cleared my throat.

  “So I was thinking...” I said, and gestured towards Washington Street. Lori turned to face it, and I walked over to the roof edge that ran parallel to it as she followed me. We craned our necks over the parapet and looked north.

  “Not a lot of them up that way,” I continued. “Not so much as yesterday, anyways. They may have tailed me and then joined the party.” I jerked my thumb back towards the mob. She nodded.

  “I'm thinking it would be easy enough to fight your way up it if you wanted to, but I would avoid it,” I said, and walked north to the back of the building. I could see Ashley out of the corner of my eye, following my every move. It made me feel better. Trust no one, kid.

  We stopped at the north parapet, and I pointed out across the back parking lot and the rocky area behind.

  “I would head across the field, hit Stevens, and just zigzag it up. Avoid the major streets – avoid the high school, okay? Really. Other than that, you should be fine.”