by Megan Berry
“This isn’t a beauty contest,” Silas snaps. “We grabbed the first one we saw.” He lets out a little huff of effort as Ryan trips in the snow and they both nearly drop the zombie in their effort to regain their balance.
“His missing leg and eyeballs will slow him down if he does come back,” Ryan points out defensively.
“Yes, and he might even trip on that piece of intestine wrapped around his ankle,” Abby points out.
Regg steps out of the house and makes a face at the zombie. “Jesus Christ, that’s the one you two picked?” he demands, making Abby and me grin from ear to ear.
Ryan opens his mouth to relay his message about how this is a safer zombie than any of its two-legged counterparts, but Regg cuts him off. “I don’t want to hear its life story, just make sure you lay it down on a tarp first,” he says as he skirts around the zombie and heads towards the neighboring cabin to grab a couple things for Jack. I stare after Regg and wonder if he’s grabbing the stuff because Jack is recovering more slowly than the rest of us, or if Jack just doesn’t want to go back inside the cabin.
Abby holds the door open for Ryan and Silas while I run to get a tarp. I spread it out on the floor in front of the fire, as close as I dare, and then they deposit the zombie in the center. We move the couch back to a somewhat safe distance and then we all sit down to keep vigil.
An hour in, I start to notice the smell of decay. “It must be working,” Abby says, wrinkling her nose, and I have to wonder if we are making a big mistake doing this inside the cabin.
“Should we really be doing this inside?” I ask, unable to resist voicing my thoughts, and the boys both nod in unison.
“It would take a lot more wood to build a big enough fire outside, and we already need to warm the cabin anyway,” Silas says without taking his eyes off the zombie.
Another hour slowly ticks by, and I’m starting to feel hopeful that this winter weather was the end of the zombies. There will still be lots of zombies in the warmer climates, but maybe we could build a wall in the north and keep them all out. Having a safe space will be helpful while we figure out a way to eliminate the rest…
“Did that thing just twitch?” Ryan asks, jumping up from the couch, and I’m abruptly pulled from my utopian thoughts. I don't want to admit that I was daydreaming on zombie watch, so I keep quiet as I struggle to keep my nerves in check.
I hear a shuffling behind me. Even though I know the zombie is in front of me, I spin around. This zombie has me freaked out. Jack, Megan, and my dad are all leaning in to take a closer look.
Silas stands suddenly, and my heart sinks. "I can't be sure," he admits with a frown, and Ryan nods.
“Maybe it was just a trick of the light,” Ryan says hopefully.
A low growl echoes through the room and Abby and I both jump. Abby runs behind the couch to join Megan, but I take a couple steps closer.
“Jane!” Abby hisses at me from behind the couch, but I ignore her. Ryan and Silas haven't made a move yet, so I'm relatively sure it's still safe.
The zombie moans again, and my heart sinks as my dream of a safe place crumbles and turns to dust. I peek around Silas and wince. The zombie is having a fit; its body hasn't completely thawed out enough to move, but the disgusting creature is definitely trying. Its fingertips scratch at the plastic of the tarp, and a faint quiver ripples across its one remaining leg. I swear I even see the muscles twitching as the zombie tries to look around with its empty sockets.
“How’s it going in here?” Regg asks, poking his head inside and wincing at the smell. The boom of his voice makes all of us jump—except Silas.
“The damn thing came back,” Silas calls over to him, and Regg curses vehemently.
“Get rid of that thing and air this room out,” he instructs before poking his head back outside to ‘chop wood.’ I have to seriously wonder if Regg is just smarter than the rest of us, sitting in a stinking cabin with an animated corpse.
Silas reaches out and plants his knife through the zombie’s empty eyehole before it gets too much of a chance to thaw out. “Maybe if we get another one…” I start to suggest, but Silas is already shaking his head.
“They’re still alive, Blondie,” Silas tells me. “This one wasn’t special, the cold just isn’t destroying their brains.” I let out a disappointed sigh as Ryan and Silas each gather up an end of the tarp and start dragging the zombie outside.
“I’ll get the bleach,” Abby mutters. Even though it’s the last thing I want to do, I go with her. Together we scrub every inch of the floor that the tarp touched, including its path to and from the front door. When we’re finished, the cabin smells like bleach, which reminds me of the good old days, swimming at the pool all summer long. The memory is directly tied to my mother, and for a minute I have to struggle to control myself. Now the bleach feels like it’s choking me. I quickly throw on my boots and coat and practically run outside. Ryan and Silas are dragging the zombie into the woods. I don’t really feel like talking to them, so I turn the other way.
I head towards our makeshift graveyard and am surprised to see that a crude bench has been constructed out of some scrap lumber and the natural layout of the trees. “I know how much you sat here when Sunny passed,” Dad says from behind, scaring me half to death. I let out a little squeak, and he grimaces.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I reassure him, even though my heart is still racing. I turn back and look at the bench again, and tears prick my eyes.
“I thought you might like to sit out here sometimes,” Dad continues. “I will sometimes as well.”
His words make me start to cry, imagining him out here as the seasons pass, talking to Mom’s grave.
“I knew you weren’t as okay as you seemed,” he tells me, moving up closer and putting his arm around me. I sniffle and turn to him in confusion.
“What do you mean?” I ask, and he shrugs.
“You just seemed so…numb,” he admits, and I’m startled to learn that he felt that way. “It’s okay to feel any way you feel though,” he hastily reassures me, and I nod, my mind churning a mile a minute.
“I am sad,” I admit, wanting him to understand where I’m coming from. I don’t want him to think I’m a monster. “I didn’t want her to die—” my voice cracks.
“I know, baby,” Dad says, getting misty eyed.
“But at least she doesn’t have to live in fear anymore,” I say, and I think it surprises him that I have this view. “At least she was never bitten. She never turned into one of those things. She wasn’t a monster, she was still Mom.”
Dad squeezes my shoulder. “She was so proud of you,” he tells me, and I can’t hold back the tears when he says that. “You were so brave, she always wished she could be more like you when it came to surviving.”
My mouth drops open. “Really?” I ask, and my dad nods.
“She was never cut out for this life,” he admits, and even though it hurts, I know he’s right.
I have to clear my throat before I can speak. “I like to imagine her up in heaven looking down on us,” I tell him, and my dad actually manages a smile.
“You should,” he tells me. “Because that’s exactly what she’s doing.”
We sit together on the bench until Silas comes up quietly behind us. “Regg wants to have a meeting,” he tells us quietly, and Dad and I stand up numbly.
Silas reaches out and takes my hand on the way back to the cabin, and I’m glad for the support.
Regg has everyone else gathered and waiting for us. I perch on the edge of the couch next to Abby, while Dad grabs a chair from the kitchen table and drags it over. “We need to talk about what happened today and how that affects our decision,” Regg says once he has our undivided attention.
My ears perk up when I find out that Regg is really going to consider my idea. “Now the sole decision does lay with Jack,” Regg continues.
“I’ve already said that I want to help if I can,” he reiterates, looking
determined, and Regg shoots him an approving look.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” my dad surprises me by saying.
“Dad–” I start to argue, but Regg holds up his hand.
“It’s his right to say his opinion,” he tells me, and I bite my lip.
“There is no guarantee there will be anything for us except death if we go off looking for these scientists,” Dad says, holding his ground despite the look I shoot him. “The world is never going to be the way it was. We should focus on making a life for ourselves here.”
Regg nods. “Thanks for speaking up, Hal,” he tells my dad before he turns to Silas. “What do you think?” he asks.
Silas shrugs, making my heart fall. “I don’t have any family left, just the people in this room,” Silas surprises me by replying. “Part of me wants to stay here, but another part of me thinks we should try and do something if we can. I’ve seen a lot of men and women bitten and Jack is the only one I’ve never seen turn. He is special, and if they could make a vaccine out of that…it might be a game changer.”
“I think we all know Jane’s opinion,” Regg jokes, and the room awkwardly chuckles a little, except for my dad.
“It’s true,” I tell them. “I want to go. I think of how many times something could have happened to Jack, and I’m not even talking zombies,” I add. Despite his obvious immunity to zombies, he isn’t immune to being ripped to shreds. “I’m talking about the men that shot at us, starvation, the weather, the flu…” I feel bad when Jack winces at the mention of the flu that killed his sister, but I press on. I have a point to make. “We are all fragile and any moment could be our last, especially these days. I think we need to at least try. There has to still be people and this could change their lives.” I don’t voice that we need to take action before something happens to Jack, but I’m pretty sure they know what I mean.
“I agree with Jane,” Ryan says without hesitation.
Then it’s Abby’s turn. She shoots me a look of apology and then shakes her head in disagreement. “I’m sorry…I just don’t think it’s safe.”
I fight the urge to growl at her as I turn toward Regg. “I’m sorry, Jane, but I don’t think it’s a good idea either,” he tells me, and I’m honestly shocked by his answer.
“How can you not? You were a soldier!” I demand, and he shrugs.
“I was a soldier. There is nothing left to protect. All I have now is you guys, and if I’m thinking about your safety—it’s safer to stay here and try to survive.
I feel some of the fight leave me. There are too many people against us. Ryan and Silas are the only ones on my team, and they are probably only agreeing because they care for me.
“I didn’t get a vote yet,” Megan pipes up from the corner, and I scowl at her.
“You’re shot in the arm anyway,” I grumble, and she frowns at me.
“I still get a vote. If Abby gets a vote, then so do I,” she argues, and she has a point. I love Abby, but even with a bullet wound, Megan can still outmaneuver Abby in anything.
“Fine. Go ahead,” I tell her, completely expecting this to be the final nail in my coffin.
“I vote we go,” Megan says, making me glance up sharply. She flashes me a smile, and I could almost hug her. Megan flashes Regg a flirtatious grin. “It’s tied now,” she tells him, like he can’t count the votes on his own.
Regg grimaces but motions towards Jack. “Then I say we leave the final decision up to Jack, and whatever he picks,” he looks directly at me, “we accept.”
I nod to show that I understand his command, though I know it will be hard to keep my mouth shut if this thing doesn’t go my way.
Jack looks around, flushing red underneath everyone’s scrutiny. “I want to go,” he says after a minute, and I actually jump up and cheer. Dad and Regg look resigned, and Abby looks terrified.
“Thank you so much,” I tell Jack, and he nods.
“It’s what Naomi would’ve wanted too,” he tells me, and I squeeze his hand in sympathy. I know good and well that this is not what my mom would’ve wanted me to do. It hurts me a little to go against her and my dad’s wishes, but I truly believe it’s the right thing to do.
Talking breaks out all at once; everyone seems to have something to say. Regg lets it continue for a bit, but after five minutes, he puts his fingers to his lips and lets loose an ear-piercing whistle that stuns everyone into silence. “This cannot be some crazy mission,” Regg tells us, his voice booming. “Lives are at stake, and this needs to be properly researched.”
“The CDC is located in Atlanta,” Silas chimes in, and I have to wonder how he knows so much random stuff.
“If I can’t change your mind, then I’m going too,” Dad says, coming to stand beside me, and I feel a twinge of remorse at his words. I never meant to force my dad to come along on this crazy trip. Though, I’m also a realist, and I know there is no way in hell he would ever let me go off by myself.
“I’m not going,” Abby says baldly, and the smile melts off my face.
“Abby,” I try and cajole her. “You can’t just stay here by yourself,” I tell her, but she stubbornly shakes her head.
“That is entirely true,” Regg says, interrupting our conversation. “You can’t stay here on your own, but I will be staying as well.”
“What?” my dad and I say at the exact same time, and Regg shrugs.
“Someone needs to stay behind; I’m assuming you’ll want to return at the end of this journey. If we leave this place abandoned, our supplies would be cleaned out by the time we got back and everything we worked so hard for would be lost.”
Dad is eying Regg with a hard look. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for you two to stay here by yourselves,” he tells them, and Abby blushes at the implication.
“I can assure you that I have no ulterior motives here,” Regg promises, drawing himself up so he looks every inch the soldier that I know him to be. My dad stares at Regg suspiciously until I nudge him. I believe Regg, and Abby will be a lot safer here than she would be on the road with us.
Abby looks relived that she won’t be forced to leave the safety of the cabin. “Maybe you could try and teach her some basic knife and firearms skills while we’re gone,” I say, which causes Abby to shoot me an indignant look.
“Megan is staying behind as well,” Jack says, speaking up for the first time since he agreed to our crazy trip. Megan shoots him a dagger stare.
“I don’t think so,” she tells him with her typical ‘Megan’ attitude, but Jack just laughs at her efforts to intimidate him.
“Trust me, as the guy that had to sew you up on the side of the road, you’re not ready to be back out there.”
Megan starts shaking her head.
Jack surprises us all by moving more quickly than a man his size should be able to move; he tosses the watch off his wrist towards Megan. “Catch!” he calls.
Megan completely misses the watch and grimaces in pain for her efforts. “I wasn’t ready,” she complains, but Jack isn’t letting her get away with that.
“If you weren’t ready and that was a zombie…you’d be dead by now,” he schools her, and Megan doesn’t argue this time, but she does cross her arms and glower at him as he comes forward and collects his watch off the floor.
“Does anyone else want to stay home?” Regg asks, and Silas and my dad both shake their heads in unison. I look over at Ryan and see that he’s staring at me with a determined expression on his face.
“I will go as well,” he chimes in, and my frown deepens.
“Are you sure you want to go?” I ask him, and now it’s his turn to frown.
“Jane, no matter what, we are still friends, and I want to come along to help protect you,” Ryan explains, making Silas roll his eyes.
I hesitate. “Don’t come because of me,” I plead with him. “Come if you believe what we’re doing is right.”
Ryan is already nodding his head. “I’m coming for both reasons,” he t
ells me truthfully, and I feel a little better. It’s bad enough my dad is coming because of me.
“I can help you plan your route and supplies,” Regg volunteers, and we all nod gratefully. His military knowledge will probably come in handy, and we’ll have Jack with us as well. Regg stops and glances towards me. “You’re going to need another vehicle,” he tells us, and I wince at the reminder that I crashed the truck, nearly killing us all.
“It will use more gas, but I actually think we should bring two trucks,” Jack interrupts. “In case there is engine trouble with one.” We all agree that this is a good idea. Silas pulls out a map of the United States from his backpack, and together we all lean in and examine it. Regg uses a pen to draw out several alternate routes.
“When do we leave?” Dad asks finally. It’s the question I’ve been dying to ask.
“We don’t want to wait too long. The zombies are frozen now,” I point out, just in case someone was going to try and postpone the trip.
Silas gives me a sideways look. “The zombies will be frozen here,” he says when I give him a questioning stare. “The daily average in Atlanta for this time of year usually hovers around the mid-fifties; the zombies won’t be frozen.”
His words send terror skittering through my belly. It honestly hadn’t occurred to me.
“Are you changing your vote?” Dad asks hopefully, but I shake my head. It’s still the right thing to do.
Chapter Eleven
We leave at dawn, taking our faithful Ford down the mountain. Regg accompanies us as far as the first car dealership we come. There we select new pickup trucks. The batteries need to be boosted and the tanks filled, but we still have the alternate fuel tank in the back of the F-150.
I run around the inside of the building, spiking any zombie I find in the head with my big hunting knife. I don’t want these bastards coming back when it warms up. I also like to imagine that every zombie I take out is a potential life saved.
Our new ride is a half-ton Silverado, and I can’t help but notice that it’s more luxurious. I cringe wondering what shape the pretty little truck will be in the next time we pass through this way—or what shape we will be in for that matter! I finally give up trying to imagine anything because nothing is ever predictable.