“Not joining,” Christine argued. “But if we’re going to walk all the way to Chicago, which is over 35 miles away, we should have designated stopping points.”
“Wait, who’s walking to Chicago?” Carolyn croaked with panic. “I thought we were waiting out winter here.”
“We were,” Christine said firmly. “And winter is over.”
“I’m with Christine. It’s time we left, like we always planned,” Gretchen piped in, but instead of eliciting a smile from her sister, it only caused an exasperated sigh.
“Yeah, let’s go!” Olivia roared with her bat in the air. “Lee and I are in!”
Lee stood tall with his arms crossed giving no indication one way or another.
Zack stared at Christine with no response to what she’d originally said. She knew that he knew she was right.
Christine continued on with her argument. “And wouldn’t it be nice if one of those stopping points had food and water and shelter for us to safely pass the night? Say, a community with someone we actually know to introduce us?”
Zack shifted from one foot to the other while the rest of his people gawked at him in anticipation. It seemed Christine wasn’t the only one eager to leave the apartment and get that journal in the right hands. Why had Zack been clinging to life at the apartment anyway? There was nothing left for him there. It wasn’t that he was scared. He’d been out in the open, exposed to the elements and the zombies plenty of times, many times overnight. He always made it back.
That was just it. He always had somewhere to come back to. Zack let out a huff from his nostrils as he looked at the floor. He had a home. If they left the apartments and tried to brave their way together to Chicago, who knows if he would ever have another home again. What if they got there and there was no lab with scientist ready to dissect the journal’s entries? And what if after that disappointment, no one wanted to make the long journey back? He would be stuck in a foreign place with nowhere to call home. Maybe that was a luxury people just couldn’t afford anymore, though. He wondered how many people actually had homes since the start of it all.
“Okay,” Zack finally said as he raised his eyes to look into Luke’s. “We’ll go. But I’m telling you now…this better not be a set-up.”
Luke raised his hands in self-defense and took a step back. “Hey, you pulled us in here, man. We didn’t come looking for you. Of course it’s not a set-up.”
That seemed to satisfy Zack’s suspicions for the moment. He flopped back on the couch, letting his arm fall over Gretchen’s ankles as she sat curled up.
She looked to him, her face flushed and her eyes wide. “So, we’re really going, huh? We’re leaving here for good?” Her voice was elevated with excitement and fear.
Zack feigned a half-smile and nodded his head. “Looks that way.”
“All right!” Olivia shouted as she jumped in front of Lee. “I’ve been waiting for this day! Let’s get out of this dump!”
Lee continued to stand silently behind her with crossed arms, as if he were a giant Gollum.
Gale Lewis tried to stand up from her sleeping bag on the floor, fell back to her knees, and tried one more time as she huffed deep breaths. “You know, some of us can’t move as quick,” she said as a reminder to no one in particular. “It might take us longer than two days to do this.”
“You mean you can’t move that quick,” Rowan retorted.
“Yes, jerk-wad, I mean me. I am still a part of this, ain’t I?” Gale rolled her eyes.
“Of course you are, Gale,” Gretchen said from the couch with a smile. “We would never leave you behind.”
The older woman looked down at her young friend with warmth. “I know you wouldn’t, darlin’.”
Dan Anderson knelt down and rolled up his sleeping bag without a word. He hadn’t said much of anything since he mistakenly killed Anita. She was his friend, and Zack’s love interest. He wasn’t just grief-stricken and in shock from taking the life of someone he cared about…he was also terrified Zack would get his revenge one day. He held his sleeping bag tightly to his chest with both arms. A crumpled packet of cigarettes stuck out of the front pocket of his jeans. He wanted to reach for one, but didn’t want to leave the conversation. It was the most important one any of them had had in months, and Zack made everyone who wanted to smoke leave the apartment and go out to the patio.
“Are we leaving right this minute?” Carolyn asked from the window seat. “Can’t we get a little more beauty rest before we head out?”
Imani rolled her eyes at the blonde woman and looked away to the wall in a huff. She’d had enough of these people already. The last thing she wanted was to travel with them and have them stay in her new home, with her new friends. And what if they found out what she and her dad took when they left the apartments the last time? What would this group think of them? Would they try to kill them? Would they try to take it back? Her heart raced at the thought, though on the outside she was cool. She hardened her face as she silently made a vow to herself…she would never let them know.
IX
In the end, the group decided to rest for a few more hours and wait for daybreak before they headed out on their journey. While everyone crawled back into their sleeping bags, or onto the couch, Luke sprawled out on the tough carpet and fell right to sleep. Imani, on the other hand, refused to even lay down let alone closer her eyes. She sat with her back straight, as if chosen to watch over the apartment and everyone in it.
Christine saw the young girl sitting up and decided to join her since she couldn’t fall back asleep either. Her mind raced with thoughts of what they would find once they got to Chicago, what would happen if scientists were there to figure out a cure, what the world would be like afterwards. She knew there was no going back and it would never be the same again, but it could be better. Anything was better than this.
“So, what’s it like where you live?” Christine asked in a whisper as she sat across from the teenager.
Imani let her dark eyes fall on Christine. Not a single muscle in her face relaxed as she contemplated what to say and what not to say. She didn’t want to be rude and ignore the woman—she seemed nice enough and she didn’t look like a threat to anyone. But she knew there was so much she couldn’t reveal to outsiders. They would never understand.
“Well, it’s underground,” she said plainly.
Christine’s ice-blue eyes widened as a smile spread across her face. “Underground? That’s amazing. How?”
“It was an old bomb shelter on one of the guy’s farm. His parents built it during a war or something.”
Christine didn’t seem that old to Imani. Though her face was somewhat gaunt, she still held her beautiful youth in her eyes and expressions. It gave her a trustworthy quality the others didn’t possess. It felt good to talk to her. Too good.
Imani shut her mouth and turned her gaze toward the blank wall.
Christine scratched her nose carelessly, not seeming to notice the change in her new friend. “I’ve heard of those, but I’ve never actually seen one. I’m excited to see yours.”
“It’s not mine,” Imani said flatly.
“Well, no, but I mean, I’m excited to see where you live. You seem like a good kid.”
Imani turned to face Christine again, but this time her eyes were soft. “Thanks,” she said, internally scolding herself for letting her eyes glaze over with tears.
Her mother always used to tell her she was a good kid, and she was. She knew she was. Every day she made her bed, cleaned her room, helped her mama cook, and took care of her step-brother. She went to school, studied, got good grades, and participated in extra-curricular sports and clubs. And even though all her friends had started dating boys in their class, she never once even considered it. She didn’t want to end up like her mother, sad and divorced and forced to marry again just to survive and provide. She didn’t want a boy to rule her life.
For some reason, she wanted to tel
l Christine all of this, to pour her heart out to this kind-faced stranger to see if she understood, if anyone left in the world understood. But she didn’t. She turned her eyes away, sniffed, and let out a frustrated breath through her nostrils.
Christine had learned to read people at an early age. It was what made her such a good lawyer. She knew Imani wanted to be left alone, she just wasn’t sure why. A teenage girl stuck with her father should want to converse with anyone else that would listen to her. That’s when she realized just how bad it must be out there, how much being out there could change a person, right down to their general make-up. Imani wasn’t just a fourteen-year-old girl anymore. She was a warrior, a survivor. She was a part of this new world, and that made Christine want to bury her head and never come up again. What hope was there for the ones so heavily changed from it all?
The two sat in silence, subtly avoiding any more contact with each other. They watched the sun rise up from the horizon until it shone through the shut blinds of the bay window. Liam had always insisted that they keep the blinds and the black-out curtains closed in case the light, even the dimmest of lights, attracted any unwanted guests. Things had gotten lax since his passing. Liam’s ghost or whatever it was constantly reminded Christine of this when they talked each day, but she knew he couldn’t make her do it anymore. He couldn’t do it for her either. He was in her head, and there he stayed.
“I don’t know if you should trust them,” Liam whispered in her ear as she watched the light through the blinds change from pink to yellow.
She wanted to answer him so badly. It was torture when he spoke to her and she couldn’t say a word back because someone else was around. If she could lock herself in a room with him alone, she would stay there like that for the rest of her life. But Zack wouldn’t let her. She was aware Zack heard her talking to Liam on occasion, that he was worried for her. But what he didn’t know was that she could see him, feel him, smell him, taste him. How was she expected to give that up forever?
PART TWO
“We are not living in a world where all roads are radii of a circle and where all, if followed long enough, will therefore draw gradually nearer and finally meet at the centre: rather in a world where every road, after a few miles, forks into two, and each of those into two again, and at each fork, you must make a decision.”
—C.S. Lewis
I
The vibration of taught string woke Zack up from a dead sleep. His eyes opened and the apartment was in focus instantly. It was the sound of a bow. The immediate worry of the group being under attack melted away when he realized it could only be one person. He pushed himself off the hard ground and walked over to the patio where the door was cracked open.
Christine Moore released an arrow from the familiar longbow she gripped in her hand. She didn’t flinch at the movement of the door opening or the sound of Zack clearing his throat. Instead, she stared at the homemade target, the one Liam had crafted from the seats of their bar stools. That seemed like ages ago. Her arrow stuck out from the center of the red painted bullseye.
“Good morning,” Zack said through the rasp of his early morning voice. He cleared his throat again, stretched his arms high over his head, and scratched at his thick beard.
Christine didn’t say a word in response, but turned to him with blank eyes. Her mind was still reeling with all the disappointing what ifs that lie ahead.
She looked at me. I guess that’s all I’m going to get out of her today, he thought as he ruffled his hair. “No luck at sleeping, huh?”
“No”, she said and turned her gaze back out to the parking lot below their second story balcony. It wasn’t Zack’s fault she was in a mood again. It never was. But she struggled not letting her mood reflect outward and onto those around her.
“You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something. We’ve noticed…well, I’ve noticed…we can hear you—”
But his words were cut off as she quickly knocked another arrow and released it into the cool morning air. There was a sickening thunk as the arrow found its target and the target hit the ground. There was no sound of groaning from a zombie trying to right itself again. Zack knew she’d delivered a perfect head shot.
“Wow, you’ve really gotten good. Must be all that practice,” he said, knowing how hollow and dumb he sounded.
If only he could get through to Christine somehow, reach her grief-stricken mind and give it a good shake to snap her out of it. Whatever she was going through had been good for her archery, but he wasn’t sure that would mean anything once they left the apartment and she faced the monsters that killed her fiancé close up. Would she be able to handle it or would she freeze at the sight of them? The answer to that question scared him. He didn’t want to find out, but it was time.
The rustling of the rest of the group gathering their items swept through the balcony door and out to the two friends. Christine threw the bow over her shoulder as she turned to look at Zack. There was the smallest hint of a smile in her bitter eyes.
“Looks like it’s time to go,” she said and walked past him.
“Looks that way,” he said to no one. He walked inside and shut the door behind him. His fingers reached for the lock, but then he stopped. What was the point in locking it? They were never coming back. It was a possibility for everyone else in their minds, but he knew in his heart that it was a certainty. None of them would come back.
When everyone was out in the hall, Zack was the last to leave. He went through the same heart-wrenching epiphany as he did on the balcony as he shut the door and, on instinct, went for the keys in his pocket to lock it. Instead, he tossed them on the doormat. If anyone traveled through there, they would most likely thank their anonymous savior for giving them easy access to a safe place to sleep for the night. That thought alone made it easier for him to lead the group down the stairs and into the parking lot.
The sky was still shifting from night to day, displaying an array of warm colors across the group. In the old world, there would have been moaning and groaning from many of them at having to be up so early, but in this new world, none of them dared to. The only sound that could be heard was the light patter of their feet and a disgusting wet sound as Christine pulled the arrow out of her target practice’s head as she passed by. There was also a grunt as she pulled herself up by a branch to pull the other arrow out of the target in the tree. Rowan, Gale, Olivia, Lee—the people who didn’t know Christine before the downfall of humanity—looked at her from the corner of their eyes. Their faces were unsure as they stepped lightly ahead, Christine at the rear of the group.
Several dead wandered slowly around the abandoned parking lot, but were not close enough to cause any alarm. Luke gave a small gasp as one turned its head and seemed to look directly at him, but no one else paid attention. They walked in a loose-knit group down the winding road through the trees that lead to the main road. The gate to the Dune Ridge community hung on its warped hinges, undoubtedly brought down by the pressure of a relentless hoard smashing against it to get in. Now that the gates were down, it seemed the zombies had forgotten why they wanted to get in there so badly in the first place. Aside from the several stragglers, the group was alone…completely and utterly alone.
Zack looked up as the morning sun rose higher in the sky to reveal the perfect blue of a lovely Spring morning. He still expected to see the white trail marks of an airplane high up there, but the only white in the sky were the wisps of light clouds. A flock of geese flew above them in a “V” formation, their honks breaking up the intolerable silence. It was a sound he’d always cringed at before for its obnoxious quality, but today he was thankful for it. To him, it meant all hope was not lost. If the animals were still alive, maybe the humans had a chance. Maybe they would even find a cure and save some of the infected.
He clicked his tongue and shook his head as he stared down at his boots. He knew how dangerous those thoughts could be. A person could get carried away
by useless hope like that. There most likely wasn’t a person alive who could help them and once all the zombies died off, the Earth would simply grow over humanity and start again like some poetic cleansing.
Zack looked back over his shoulder at Christine. Her lips moved, just barely, as she spoke to the empty space next to her.
II
Gretchen jogged lightly up to Zack as he led the pack silently down the town roads toward the Indiana-Illinois toll road. Even though they weren’t able to drive there due to the overwhelming road blockage, they still took the same familiar route. It was the only way Zack knew and the last thing he wanted was to be responsible for getting everyone lost and most likely killed. He noticed Gretchen by his side, but didn’t say anything. He’d never been good with words and rarely felt comfortable being the first to speak.
“She’s doing it again,” she whispered to him.
Zack stared ahead, letting out a weighted sigh. “Yeah, I know.”
“So,” she said somewhat indignantly.
“So, what?” Zack was tired of her games. According to Christine, Gretchen left while she was still in high school. That was more than a decade ago. The older sibling went that long without knowing how her own blood was doing, but now all of the sudden she wanted to act like the mother hen. As soon as the bitter thoughts bubbled up he shoved them back down with guilt. He didn’t know Gretchen’s whole story, only snippets. He had no right to judge her.
“So, what are we going to do about it? We’re closest to her. We need to help her through this. It’s not right, her talking to herself all the time.”
Zack grabbed Gretchen by her thin wrist gently. He didn’t turn to her and he didn’t stop walking, but he wanted her to know he was taking what she said seriously.
“Right now I am the closest thing to her. Not you. I don’t mean that to be mean, but she doesn’t even know you anymore and she’s made it clear these last few months she doesn’t want to know you.” His whispers were soft but his words cut through Gretchen’s heart like a knife. “I will help Christine any way I can, but right now I think she needs her space to work it out.”
Dead Soil (Book 2): Dead Road Page 4