On Our Own

by Silver, L. D.

  What the fuck?

  Where did they all go?

  Chapter 44

  Cassie is surprised, too, her mouth open but without any words coming out as she looks from one side of the street to the other.

  “Do you see anything yet?”

  “No,” she says.

  So I make a sweep of the entire town, driving around 25 miles an hour. There’s a huge, green park in the middle of town, empty of everything except green grass, trees, a playground and sculptures. No humans anywhere. I turn left and we’re on the smaller side streets, lined by older trees and small houses, some of them from the fifties and others maybe a century or older.

  “Bomb shelters?”

  “Maybe,” I admit. “But did they all instantly give up at the first news? Shouldn’t there be some blood somewhere?”

  “Yeah,” she says softly, as I turn and we drive down the main strip once more.

  “Let’s stop at the playground.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to play for a bit, duh,” Cassie remarks.

  “Cassie, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I counter, but I’m talking to air because she’s jumped out and is running towards the gorgeous green grass, leaving the door and my mouth wide open.

  Okay, that’s getting really annoying. She just runs off, repeatedly, whether it’s a good idea or not.

  And there goes the dog out the open door, too.

  I scowl, shut the door, and pull the Jeep to a parking spot. I grab my bat and slam the door, but it doesn’t grab Cassie’s attention. She’s on the merry-go-round with Sunshine following alongside on the ground, barking.

  I stand there with my bat in hand and wonder what to do. The town is empty, so we’re probably all right, but it still makes me a bit nervous.

  I take a deep breath, tell myself to relax for once, and drop the bat on the ground. I haven’t had a good run in weeks; okay, outside of running from zombies, but that doesn’t count because I was all stressed out. I haven’t had a run that was for exercise that stretched my body and left me feeling good inside.

  I warm up for a few minutes, and then I start to jog along the outer edges of the park. I quickly fall into that stride that feels like I could go for hours. I breathe in and out, relaxing into the motion, concentrating on just running. Eventually I hit that sweet spot where it just feels good, and I smile.

  I’d been thinking about joining track next year, but I was worried that competition would ruin this, ruin this joy I feel when I run. Little did I know…

  The funny thing is I’ve never been good at sports. I think it’s partially that I don’t like things coming at my head, and a lack of coordination, and I just seem to hesitate. That’s what it is: hesitation. Will I act at the right time? Will I do the right thing? Other people seem to know what to do all the time: the girls playing baseball or soccer, the guy facing down the bully, my mom stepping in to protect me from zombies. I always freeze. I miss the soccer ball headed for me, because surely that’s not for me, right? I mean really, should I kick it, or is someone else going to get it? And that mean guy, if he’s talking to me, surely I’ll get hurt if I say something back.

  I come to a stop. I think I might be a coward.

  I remember instances, now that I think about it, times throughout my life where I probably could have stood up, or stopped, or something. Yes, Cassie runs into every situation, but I always seem to be on the sidelines somewhere. When it was smarter to keep my mouth shut, or let someone else take the risks, I did. When people came after me, I ran. When they came after me and Mike was around, he took the hit for me. It was the same way in school; if I had friends around then they handled the problem for me.

  I never acted when there were other people around who could take the action.

  I never stood up for anyone, not when Tonya was in trouble, and definitely not when Mike needed help. I saw the drug use long before my parents did and I ignored it. Sure, I had the excuse of hurt feelings, that Mike stopped hanging out with me, but I never tried to get him to stop.

  I blamed my parents for failing to get Mike help. I blamed all of them for our family falling apart, but I was there, too. Could I have stopped it? If I had stepped in, if I had stepped up, could I have stopped it? Could I have helped Mike?

  A drop of water falls in the dirt and I kick it away with my shoe while blinking furiously. I look in Cassie’s direction and all of my self-absorbed thoughts fall away, swept clean like dishes off a table at a sight I never would have expected.

  There are children and teenagers scattered throughout the park, like they were coming to play and then stopped, all of them in disarray, and each of them a zombie.

  Chapter 45

  Dear God, what the hell?

  I dash away the tears that were forming in my eyes with my hands and get a better look at the situation.

  Cassie’s still on the merry-go-round, but she’s holding on to a metal loop and standing still, her mouth open as she circles slowly round and round.

  Where is Sunshine? My heart jumps a beat and then I see her behind Cassie, safe on the swirling playground toy.

  The zombies are still just standing there. There are ones near Cassie, a couple near me and the rest are at various points around the park, like a game of red-light-green-light when the light is red.

  I look at the zombie nearest me, a girl close to me in age. She’s dressed in jeans and a pink top, with black sneakers decorated with pink hearts. Her skin is pale white, but it looks cracked, like her skin is earth that’s been dry so long it’s separated into little dry islands. Her pale blue eyes stare at me, completely lacking in emotion and recognition. The girl’s blonde hair hangs limply. There isn’t a scratch on her. She’s like some of the young zombies I’ve seen – the babies and toddlers – with the cracking of the skin and eyes that indicates the virus has hit, but without any bite marks or chunks missing out of her.

  There’s a tall boy just past her, who was maybe sixteen when this happened, and he stares at the ground, looking lost and forlorn in an old-fashioned hat from the fifties. There isn’t any sign of damage on him, either; just brown, cracked skin.

  I look across the park and it’s all the same. None of them were attacked.

  As I’m searching for a real zombie victim, a two-year-old girl near Cassie throws her head back and cries – not moans – but cries just like a little kid would. And then the rest of them do it, too.

  It’s just loud and creepy. That's when I notice that every single one of them is wearing an orange band.

  As I watch, adults appear on the streets, next to houses, in yards. All of them are zombies, all of them are wearing the bands, and none of them show the signs of a zombie attack. They reach a certain point, stop, and then they moan; that loud, long zombie moan.

  “Dear God,” I say under my breath, and then yell at Cassie to get to the Jeep. She jumps off the merry-go-round, with Sunshine following, and I run.

  I thought they would reach out, would try to catch us, but none of them move. I weave through a path of the dead and I’m untouched.

  I reach the Jeep panting, but I make it safely inside and start her up.

  “They’ve quit,” Cassie comments.

  “Quit what?”

  “The moaning.”

  And she’s right. They’ve stopped moaning and they just stand still and stare at us. It’s like they feel we’re not right, because we’re not like them.

  “Cassie, is it possible they took The Shot and turned immediately?”

  “I don’t know. It didn’t happen in trials. From what I’ve seen, The Shot makes people stay more human.” She shrugs.

  “What about a whole town doing it, at the same time?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

  We drive in silence, with me slowly curving the vehicle around the zombies in the street. They still just stand there, but I don’t trust it. I have the wheel in a death grip as we head out of town.

 
; The whole thing makes me wonder. Was everybody in town related, with the same genetic base, or did they all get the same batch of The Shot? If one batch of The Shot was contaminated, were there any others? Are there whole towns out there like this?

  Chapter 46

  I drive us out of there, sincerely creeped out. What’s up with a bunch of zombies that don’t even attack us? It doesn’t make sense.

  We find a gas station about two miles outside of town, so we run in to grab a map and some gum. Fortunately, there aren’t any zombies in there.

  As we leave, I notice someone’s spray-painted the brick side of the store with a single, short message: “We’re all pretty now.”

  I glance at Cassie but she doesn’t seem to notice it.

  I drive for about ten minutes to make sure we’re safely away from the town and then pull the Jeep off the road. I spread the map on the hood until I realize Cassie can’t see it very well, so I put it on the grass and use rocks to keep it there. She comes over, popping her gum.

  “I think we’re just in Colorado.” I tap my finger on the paper. “I figure if we head west we can make it back to the freeway.”

  Cassie examines the map by crawling onto it and wrinkling it in spots. “Delilah, are we in a hurry to get to a certain spot? I mean, get to a certain place in Colorado by a certain time?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “Why?”

  She grins, then jumps up and runs to the Jeep. She comes back with a slightly tattered brochure in one hand, holding it out to me. I open it up and find it’s an ad for a place in Colorado called Garden of the Gods, and it looks magnificent.

  “I think it’s here.” She lands on the map and I wince. She points at a spot that doesn’t look too far from the freeway.

  I crawl next to her, trying to find the various points in my head. I’m horrible at reading maps, but in a few minutes I put it together.

  “Yeah, I think if we go here, here and then here we can get there.”

  “Cool!” Cassie jumps up and down, and then twirls and jumps.

  I wait until she’s slightly off-balance, and then push her just a bit. She stumbles, but catches herself and then runs full-tilt at me, pushing me backwards a bit. We giggle and push each other back and forth to the car.

  #

  I drive for hours and hours, and we all eventually settle into a routine. Sunshine at one point crawls into Cassie’s lap, and then with many protests from Cassie sticks her head out the window. Eventually, Cassie gets the large dog into the backseat and rolls up the window while I laugh at her. About four hours in, we pull over at a rest stop.

  There are abandoned cars here, of course. There’s a large, white vehicle – somewhere between a station wagon and an SUV – with one of the back doors open and blood on the side. There’s food everywhere, although it’s obvious that animals have eaten what they can. And there’s a family of three at one of the picnic tables, slumped over on the table, holding hands.

  I watch the family for a few moments, looking for signs of undead life. I can’t see much of their faces, but I can see their hands. The man’s are pale, sickly white and do appear a bit cracked. The woman has nicely manicured, bright red nails, but all of that effort was wasted. Her hands, and that of her little boy’s, have no signs of cracking and no signs of the virus. So maybe the father got the virus, and they all decided to kill themselves before he died?

  I don’t see any signs of gunshot wounds, but it’s still possible.

  I drive to the very end, far away from the little family, and Cassie and Sunshine get out and play fetch. I find a nice table near a wooded area, put a blanket down, and set out a can of meat, a bag of chips, and a can of fruit. I open everything up and call Cassie over, and she sits across from me while Sunshine comes up to my side. She sits on her rump, wags her tail, and grins at me with an open mouth. It’s at that point I realize we don’t have any dog food.

  “Okay, but don’t get used to this. We’ll pick you up some dog food soon.” I empty out one of the cans of meat onto a paper towel and put it on the grass for her to eat.

  “We need to find her some water, too.”

  “Good idea. Make sure she goes to the bathroom.” I grin. I love to hand out chores as long as I don’t have to do any. Cassie rolls her eyes at me.

  We eat lunch and Cassie takes care of Sunshine while I clean up. I notice the dog ate the paper towel along with the meat, but hopefully that won’t hurt her.

  What’s weird is that I’m kind of excited we’re in Colorado. I mean, I’ve never done that before. I’ve never made a big decision like moving to another state and having it happen, not having to ask permission of anybody else – just deciding, ‘hey, this is what I’m going to do’ and doing it. Pretty cool. I could get used to this.

  I wonder what other things I will get to decide. Like what our house will look like, how the lab will be, where we’ll wind up?

  I grin and get into the Jeep.

  #

  I think we’re about two hours away from the Garden of the Gods. I’ve done my best to stay away from the towns, even though we’ve had some very boring scenery. I crest a hill, notice a nice grassy area to the side and pull off onto it. We all get out of the Jeep for a good stretch and I walk to the end of the lawn while drinking from a water bottle.

  It turns out to be the edge of a cliff, not so high that I feel nervous but enough to give me a beautiful view of the land below. It is more grassland, with a few rolling hills and one or two trees. There’s also a black truck with four doors and a horse trailer attached to the back.

  “People. Look, Delilah, adults!” Cassie points, and now I see them, too. It looks like three adults in all, and a young boy, all near one of the trees.

  “Cassie, wait!” I say, but I really should give up on that, because she never listens anyways. She and Sunshine are already part-way down the side of the cliff, following a tiny path.

  I look at the group, and I can’t say why I’m nervous, but my heart is pounding. Something about the whole group doesn’t feel right.

  Chapter 47

  I’m probably just nervous about meeting a new group. Geez, a while ago I thought the best thing for Cassie and me would be to have some other people around and now I want to hold back. I shrug, close up the Jeep, and follow her down.

  Maybe one of these days, instead of holding back, I’ll race down ahead of her.

  By the time I reach the bottom of the hill, Cassie is already talking with the group. I figure, damage done, so I slow down and just walk up to them.

  There are three adult males: one in his twenties, another in his thirties, and the last in the eighties somewhere. There’s also a young boy around Cassie’s age. If we join them, then the group will be outnumbered with people who need help, instead of caretakers.

  “And this is Delilah.” Cassie gestures toward me with a big smile. I smile as well, and take the hand of the adult nearest me.

  “I’m Jim.” His hand grips mine in a nice, firm shake and his brown eyes look steadily into mine. He’s wearing a plaid shirt that’s open at the front, with a brown t-shirt beneath it, along with blue jeans and sneakers. His hands are dirty and he smells a bit, but then don’t we all.

  “Nice to meet you.” I end the handshake.

  “This is Todd.” Jim gestures to the younger adult male. Todd’s wearing a yellow polo shirt, blue jeans and tan shoes that don’t look great to run in. He has sandy-blonde hair and green eyes. I take Todd’s outstretched hand and he proceeds to try and crush my bones. I don’t know what to do, so I just squeeze back as hard as I can and meet his gaze. His eyes burn into me, like if he looks hard enough he’ll find the answer to a question. I don’t like touching him.

  I end the handshake and drop my hand against my pants, trying not to rub it against the material.

  “This here’s Grandpa and Roman.” Jim gestures at the old man and little boy. “Grandpa really isn’t grandpa; he just can’t speak so we don’t know his real name.”


  “Oh,” I say.

  Grandpa’s wrapped in a blue blanket and sits on the ground as if he’s really tired. Roman clutches the old man’s hand. He watches me while he reaches out and slowly pets Sunshine, his movements tentative and his manner skittish. He has dark brown hair, brown eyes, and wears shorts, a t-shirt and very dirty sneakers.

  “We were just about to start a fire and make dinner. Care to join us?” Jim asks.

  “Yes,” Cassie answers quickly.

  “Yes, thank you,” I say. “But won’t the fire draw zombies?”

  “The stiffs? Nah, we got some protection against them.”

  Cassie cocks her head, and since I can’t see a weapon on the man, I’m curious, as well.

  “Go ahead and show them, Todd.” Jim grins.

  Todd walks to the horse trailer, nice and slow. He pulls some gray work gloves out of his back pocket and puts them on. Then in one neat motion he opens the trailer doors, grabs a rope and yanks.

  Two zombies fall out of the back of the trailer.

  Chapter 48

  Todd laughs then pulls them to their feet using the rope as leverage. He throws the end of it into the trailer and slams the doors shut with his foot, essentially anchoring them. I wonder if it will hold.

  One of them is a man who’s almost six feet tall and has a big, round beer belly. He’s wearing a white button-down shirt, blue pants that were nice at one point and brown dress shoes. I don’t think he made it far into the attacks. There are chunks missing from his neck, hands, and thighs. He has a big round face, with the cracked skin of the virus, and two small, cracked brown eyes. There’s duct tape on his mouth.