“I don’t know, if you want to know the truth,” I replied, pulling away from the window and securing the plastic back in place. “One minute I feel like me, the next I feel like a raving lunatic ready to blast holes through anything that moves.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but I’ve noticed you don’t even talk like yourself anymore,” he said, sounding very concerned.
“How so?”
“Well,” he started. “Before, if I asked how you were holding up you would have given me a smart-ass answer. Like ‘with your two and a half legs’ or ‘you’re floating thanks to gas power from Anna’s breakfast’. This time, you actually gave me a straight answer.”
“Those are good ones,” I said. “I’m going to steal them you know.”
“Go for it,” he smiled.
“I was cocky,” I said, sitting cross legged on the cold floor. “Yeah, we dealt with enough horror for me to need a lifetime membership to Therapists-R-Us, but I still didn’t treat this as serious as it really was. It took Abby dying for me to see how bad it really is. How screwed up is that? How messed up does that make me?”
“You know what,” Matt said, pushing himself off the wall. “You’re still you, and that smart-ass side of you is still in there trying to get out. But this constant running and fighting and terror that’s with us from morning to night doesn’t leave a lot of time for anything else. Like grieving.”
“I’ve been grieving,” I defended myself.
“Naw man, you haven’t,” he shook his head. “You’ve cried, you’ve moped, and you’ve made a zombie piñata, but you haven’t really grieved. How could you when you’re either fighting, running, or just plain scared? It took you how long to visit her grave? Even that was interrupted.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, feeling a twinge of building frustration. “There’s no break from this? It’s not like tomorrow we’re going to wake up and a world of walking coffin stuffers are going to disappear like a fart in the wind!”
“I don’t know man,” he said calmly. “But you need to. Maybe just take a few minutes here and there. Talk to Katie about Abby, ‘cause she needs to grieve too.”
“Hmm,” I grumped, mulling over what he was saying. “Maybe.”
“Maybe what?”
“Just…maybe.”
“Again, maybe what?”
“Maybe I’m going to kick your ass if you don’t stop asking me to elaborate on my maybes!” I said, shooting him a sarcastic look. “Thanks, man. You’re probably right.”
“Dude, I know I am,” he smiled as he walked away. He stopped by Mark, who was trying his best to stoke a fire in the hobo oven. To me it looked more like a paint can with holes cut into it. The kind of thing that should have a warning label about how dangerous it is to use indoors…on a wooden floor.
The two of them turned their backs to me, occasionally glancing over their shoulders in my direction before they turned away again to chat a bit more.
This worried me, as it often did when those two were plotting. I saw the same looks in their beady little eyes when they planned my bachelor party. Somewhere in the evil recesses of their minds came the First Word drinking game. The rules were simple. One of them would hand me a stein, the other a magazine. I was to choose any page in the magazine, then any paragraph on that page. Then I had to speak the first word that my eyes fell on.
Simple enough, right?
Well, the evil part of the plan was that any time that word was uttered throughout the night, I was to take a drink within 30 seconds, or I had to down the entire contents of a twenty-four ounce stein. What was my word? Look.
So my fellow survivor of the zombie apocalypse, do you know how many times the word look is said in a night? Well I do now! The hangover literally lasted two full days.
When they broke apart and went their separate ways, I felt a bit safer…for the time being. It meant that whatever they were planning was long term. If they would have walked away together, I would have double checked my rifle to make sure I had a full magazine.
I drew my jacket up over my neck, pulling my hat down further as the frigid air worked its way through the several layers of clothing. I decided it was a good time to follow Chris’ advice and just sit back and watch.
Shoving my hands in my pockets to brace against another night of rapidly falling temperatures, I leaned against the cold brick and watched everyone settle in. It was surreal how fast the group was able to shut down with the horrors creeping around just outside the building. I attributed it to the adrenaline crash. Despite the fact that we had been riding in an armored bus all day, we were all on edge waiting for the next shoe to drop.
There was not a time that we could look out the windows that we did not see groups of creatures roaming through the fields and forests along the road. I couldn’t figure out how we stayed so long on that farm without being overrun. They moved in herds, some as small as six, others so large they could not be counted.
The kids huddled close to the stove, it’s low flickering flame cast haunting shadows across the red brick and frosted plastic around us. Anna talked with them, her soft voice like a ghostly whisper from the distance. Chris sat a close distance away, sitting on the wooden crate in front of the offices to be sure no one would go near it again.
Joe and Rosa sat across from me on the opposite side of the room, her head laying on his shoulder. They whispered to each other, Joe stroking her hair as she snuggled closer to him.
Matt and Mark tiptoed back down the metal stairs, carrying blankets and pillows back up with them. Mark stopped in front of me, tossing a heavy quilt and thin pillow onto my lap before moving on to distribute the rest. Matt dropped his pile onto the floor before starting to blow up the deflated air mattresses.
While Matt was trying to find the fastest way to force himself to pass out, Mark had crept back downstairs, returning with a case of water and a box labeled MRE – Meals Ready to Eat. The thought of food sent my stomach rumbling as I suddenly realized I had skipped breakfast that morning, and a sudden mass of rude guests kicked us out of our home before lunch.
The jerks.
Mark had barely opened the box before everyone closed in for their share of the twelve meal box. Even Lexi left her window, weaving her way through the gathering crowd toward the water. She ripped into the case, pulling out a bottle and downing its contents in a matter of seconds.
Mark waved the kids over, putting his finger to his lips for them to be quiet. He pointed to each pack on the ground, explaining to the girls what was in each one. Katie scooped two up and turned her back to the group and came right to me.
“Daddy,” she whispered. “Can I have this one?” She handed me a pack labeled Cheese Tortellini.
“Of course you can,” I answered. “Do you want me to make it for you?”
She stood there, shifting from one foot to another before nodding. She stretched her arm out, holding out another pack, this one labeled Vegetarian Ratatouille. “I brought this one for you. I don’t know what it says, but uncle Mark said you would like it. Can I sit on your lap?”
To this day, I still have no idea what ratatouille is. I ate it, and could not tell you what it was made of, and I’m not sure if I wanted to. But I didn’t care. I had spent so much time convinced that my little girl hated me that I welcomed anything she handed me, as long as she wanted to spend time with me.
I set the pillow on the floor to sit on…and my ass had never been happier. I tore open our MREs, and soon we were enjoying our meal together, whatever my dinner was. I was almost glad I couldn’t see the pile of mush inside my bag. If it looked as bad as it tasted, I would’ve lost my appetite. Only one thing I could imagine would make that slop taste any better.
Bacon.
Mark may have thought that I didn’t notice the hints of bacon wafting up from his MRE, but he would be wrong. I made a mental note to be sure he paid for that little transgression.
The rest of the group went
to their own little areas in our new refugee camp. We were as close as any family, but hours in a bus fearing for our lives does give one an appreciation of quiet time.
We tore into our meal packs as soon as they were hot. Katie didn’t wait for her meal to cool before shoveling steaming pasta into her mouth as I choked down my chunky veggie stuff in a dirty gym sock puree.
Let that roll around in your noggin for awhile.
“Mr. Dan?” Jane suddenly appeared next to me, holding a small plastic pouch.
“Hey, Jane. You can just call me Dan if you want.”
“I don’t want to,” she said shyly. “Alexis said she wants to trade with you.”
“Alexis? Who is-” I started before my brain decided to switch on my don’t be a dumbass mode. “Oh, Lexi! Sure, what is it?”
“Beans,” Jane said with a sly smile.
“Uh-huh,” I said shooting Lexi an annoyed look. She smiled back with a mischievous grin.
“Tell your sister that I can see the tomato sauce on her face from here,” I said, handing her my side item pouch of potato…cheesy…stuff.
“Okay.” Jane spun and ran back to Lexi, making far too much noise given the situation. She handed Lexi the pouch while whispering into her ear. Lexi started wiping at her face, checking her hand with each swipe.
It took her a few swipes at her face before she realized she had been pranked back. Her eyes locked on me in a death glare when it dawned on her what I had done. I winked at her before tipping the pouch of beans into my mouth.
As soon as the sauce hit my tongue, I knew I was in trouble. Apparently Lexi had just pulled the beans from the flameless heating bag before sending them over. I felt the tears building up as every single protein filled implement of superheated torture hit my mouth. I wanted to grab my bottle of electrolyte fortified lemon-lime drink and down the thing in one gulp to put out the five alarm massacre my remaining taste buds were enduring.
But the man card had taken way too many hits over the previous few weeks, and I couldn’t stand letting that little teenaged…angel…have the satisfaction. So I closed my mouth, grinned at her and chewed. I knew I had her when her mouth hung open, eyes widened in disbelief. And all it took was the systematic destruction of every nerve ending in my mouth.
“Daddy,” Katie said, standing up to look me in the face. “You look funny.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Can I have your cookie?”
“Mmhmm.” I grabbed my drink, and downed the ice cold beverage in large gulps, reveling as I doused the heat of the evil fiery beans.
“Thank you,” Katie smiled and hugged me before biting down on what was probably the most stale cookie imaginable.
“Yo Wewcome,” was about the best I could do right at that moment. I glanced over at Lexi in time to see her shake her head and walk back over to the window to check on the undead loitering around the front of our new digs.
“Daddy?” Katie curled up in my lap again, bundled up in my blanket and leaning against me.
“Yeah stinky?”
“I’m not stinky!”
“I know. I just tease you.”
“Daddy,” she said between bites of her chocolate chip cookie. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t know. We’re going to talk about it in the morning.”
“Will we go back to the farm?”
“No, Katie. I don’t know if we will ever go back there.”
“Oh,” she sighed, her head dropping as she chewed the last of her cookie. She wiped at the chocolate on her lips before laying her head on my chest.
“Why do you ask?” I stroked her hair, pulling the blanket closer to us.
“Mommy is there. I want to give her a flower when summer is here.”
“Mommy would like that,” I said, hugging her close.
“Do you think she’s in Heaven?”
“I do. I think she’s watching over us right now.”
“I’ll draw her a flower then, so she can see it.”
“That’s a really good idea,” I said, feeling the salty sting of a tear trying to force its way out. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep. It’s been a very long day for you.”
“Can I sleep here? It’s cold over there.”
“Of course you can,” I answered, wiping my tear away.
“Thank you, daddy. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She took the last of her orange flavored stuff, drinking it down before settling back down in my lap. In typical Katie fashion, she was asleep within minutes. It happened so suddenly, I poked her just to be sure she was actually in her nightly coma.
I leaned my head against the cold brick, watching everyone hunker down in small groups. Anna and the kids were close to the small fire, laying on one of the air mattresses. Chris and Lexi watched the things outside, peering through small openings in the window plastic. Mark curled up near the hobo oven, tucked away inside a sleeping bag and already snoring. Matt had taken Chris’ spot sitting on the crate, crossing his arms and pulling his thick wool hat down over his eyes and leaning against the old plaster office walls.
Joe and Rosa were still situated across the room from me. Rosa’s eyes were closed, breathing deeply as she slipped off to sleep. Joe looked over to me with a smile before he too closed his eyes and set his head back against the wall.
The undead things outside continued to slurp up the remains of the little girl, savoring every scrap of meat and drop of fluid that made up the black-eyed monster she had become. The group ignored the sound as one by one they slipped into their nightmare filled slumber.
Sharp pangs of fear and sadness intermingled inside me whenever I looked into Katie’s dirt streaked face. She was growing up in a world where monsters were real, and her mother was no longer with her. Where she could never really feel safe outside again, and would need the protection of people around her just to make it through another day.
I tried to push the thoughts to the back of my mind, picking up the small notebook from the floor next to me. In the scant flickering light of the small fire, helped slightly by the lone flashlight we used to illuminate the room, I began to read the final days of the family of Greyden Tyler.
Chapter 15: Property of Greyden Tyler
The pages were worn in some areas, torn and ripped in others. The words were written in pencil, with no dates or times to show when they had arrived, or when they ultimately died. Only spaces on the page between paragraphs marked the passage of time. They were notes written by a father, a husband, and a friend. I doubted if he ever thought the words would ever be read by another living person.
We finally made it. I didn’t think we would ever get here after the car broke down. Carrying those heavy assed backpacks through the woods took forever, but it was worth it. I didn’t think Natalie would be able to carry Isabel all the way here by herself, but I should have known better than to question the determination of mama bear when her cub is sick.
Damian was a trooper. He gave me a lot of grief when we left the house, but I think once he saw how bad it was out there, he understood why we had to go. He’s still giving me the stink eye, but that might just be him being a teenager.
I can’t believe this happened tonight. Joey and I would have been out drilling holes in the ice before the sun came up tomorrow. Only a few more hours, and we would both have been on the lake and Natalie would have been alone with the kids.
Natalie thought Joey and I were nuts whenever we went on an overnight hunt and used this building as a campsite. A little plastic on the windows and sealing off half the room and we had the perfect overnight man cave. It was hard to get all our supplies up that rope ladder, but I bet she’s happy that it was here! We’d never have gotten those front doors open.
Before we had to leave the car, I heard some guy on the radio saying the dead were coming back to life. I mean, I know its crazy out there. But come on. Zombies? Give me a break. New type of rabies maybe, but there’s no way I’m going to be
lieve that dead people are walking around.
Isabel has me worried. I’m trying not to let on to Natalie how worried I am. Isabel started her fever a few days ago, and that was long before this all started. But still, I’m really scared. She isn’t getting any better. If anything, her fever is going up. We grabbed everything we could, even some antibiotics from when she had strep throat. Maybe the cold will help keep the fever down.
Joey just got a signal on his phone. He’s going to stream the news as much as possible. I’ll keep writing when I can. This is going to make a hell of a blog once all this blows over.
********
This is getting serious. People are evacuating cities. Whole cities! I still don’t buy this walking dead bullshit. But something really bad is going on out there. We’ve only been here a couple hours, and it sounds like there’s riots everywhere! I’m glad we decided to come here and ride this out. I just hope we brought enough food.
Isabel is asleep. She needs a doctor. I want to bring her to a hospital, but the radio said to stay away from them. We’re doing the best we can, but she’s getting worse.
What the hell is going on out there?
******
IT’S REAL! Jesus Christ it’s actually real! We all heard the emergency alert! The damn CDC is saying the dead are walking!
What are we going to do?
******
Isabel is so sick. She needs help! She’s throwing up and it looks like blood. But it’s not. It’s darker, and it smells like rubbing alcohol or something. She woke up to tell us she was hungry, and fell asleep again.
Natalie and I just got into an argument. I told her I was going to go get help. Natalie doesn’t want me to leave. She’s probably right. From what we heard before Joey lost the signal again, I don’t know if I would be able to find help.
What are we going to do?
******
Joey got a signal on his phone again. I don’t know why mine or Natalie’s won’t work, but thankfully his does. They’re saying the National Guard is setting up camps for survivors. Survivors! How many people are dead already to have to start calling the population survivors?
This Dying World (Book 2): Abandon All Hope Page 16