Faith dealt the cards, every so often casting a worried glance at her grandmother. She seemed so old and frail all of a sudden.
“So, Grandma...” she started, trying to lighten the mood. “Tell me more about Grandpa.”
Rosemary perked up slightly. “I miss him,” she replied wistfully. “What would you like to know?”
Faith tucked her blonde hair behind her ear and grinned playfully, knowing such a subject would take her grandmother’s mind off of the impending danger. “Hmmmm... I don’t know. How about when you both met?”
“You’ve heard that story a million times, pumpkin.” Rosemary’s eyes rested on a framed black and white photo of her as a young woman in a sharp, tailored dress, a handsome young man wrapping one arm around her protectively.
“I know, but I love it so much! I’m a romantic, Grandma, you know that.” She fanned out her cards in front of her and began to put them in order by suit. “Please?”
Rosemary sighed again. “If you insist.” She gazed lovingly at the photo. “Well, there was a war going on. Times were tough. My parents were wealthy so they could afford to send me to boarding school. It kept me out of their hair.” She pursed her lips. “One night after a movie with some girlfriends, being the foolish woman I was, I decided to get some fresh air and walk home by myself.” She reached for her cards and began organizing them.
“While things were a lot less dangerous back then, it was still a very unwise decision. I lived in a safe, quiet neighborhood, but I had to cross some rather unsavory areas before I got there. I was headstrong and thought that I was invincible. Immortal. You never imagine that anything bad will happen to you when you’re young.
“It was probably ten o’clock, and the town was virtually empty. I can still hear the train whistle in the distance as it rounded the bend to stop in my town.” She had a faraway look in her eyes. “Anyways, it just so happened that there had been a fellow who was up to no good waiting in front of the train station. He came over to me and told me to give him money.” She chuckled. “Of course, I refused and told him I wouldn’t give him a red cent, especially with that rude tone of his!
“I hadn’t noticed, but the train had pulled in to the station, and a few passengers were getting off. It distracted me for a moment. The man, seeing this, tried to yank the bag out of my hand. I was in these intolerable high heels that were fashionable at the time, and I lost my balance and fell, but I immediately got to my feet and grabbed one of the heels. At this point, I was covered in mud, my hair completely disheveled, but I didn't care. He was quickly sifting through the contents of my purse and didn’t see me coming. I started pummeling him with that darned heel. He didn’t find it amusing, of course, and pushed me roughly backwards. I saw his eyes widen as I tumbled to the ground. A split second later, I realized why. I had landed in the arms of a uniformed soldier. The bandit ran off in a hurry as the stranger helped me up. I told him not to worry about me, but to get my purse! I didn’t care about the money, but I did have some old family photographs in my wallet that I didn’t want to lose. He chased after the man, but it was too late. That darned thief had gotten away.”
She shook her head and blushed prettily. Faith leaned in towards her, eager to hear the rest.
“I almost forgot about the purse. He was so handsome. He looked like a movie star as he walked back to me; he had this fantastic smile that could have melted the coldest of hearts. Better yet, he was the kindest man I’d ever met. And in that moment, with the lights from the street lamps shining around him, he looked ethereal, like a bonafide hero coming out of the shadows. I’m not going to say it was love at first sight, but he most definitely took my breath away!”
“So what happened after that?” Faith prodded, setting her cards back on the table.
“He was home on leave from the Air Force. He came from a different economical background, and as I went to an all girls’ boarding school, we never crossed paths. That night, he cleverly asked me if he could buy me dinner the following evening since I’d lost my purse and wallet. I readily accepted, of course. We spent the next night at an old Italian bistro, a real hole-in-the-wall, but with some of the best food I’ve ever eaten. I had never been anywhere like that before. It was always fine dining with my parents. Afterwards, he took me dancing at an underground tavern where I met many of his childhood buddies. I don’t think I got back to the school until two that morning, which I distinctly remember getting severely scolded for... they even called my parents! They were too busy enjoying the benefits of high society to really care. I had such fun though. He was exciting and worldly. And the epitome of a gentlemen. These are qualities you’ll want in a man, Faith.” She nodded at her pointedly.
“Anyways, we spent every day after that together. When his leave was over, and he had to go back to Europe, I begged him to bring me with him, which of course wouldn’t have been allowed. So I ran away from boarding school, bought a one-way ticket to Germany where he was stationed, and worked as a waitress for two years at a restaurant near the base until the war was over. I didn’t speak a word of German. I think they hired me for my good looks more than anything else!”
“Of course they did. You were gorgeous!” Faith complimented her, admiring the photo on the shelf. “You still are!” she added, sweetly smiling at her grandmother. “What happened after that?”
“Well, he was really traumatized from all of the death and violence that he had seen. He didn’t want to go back to the States. He couldn’t stand the thought of being stuck with a nine to five job in a boring, cramped office. Gave him too much time to think. So we decided to get married and move somewhere completely unknown. One night we were out with some of our friends playing billiards at a local pub when I saw him turn around, close his eyes, and throw a dart on a map on the wall. It landed on South Africa. Don’t ask me why we chose there; to this day I still don’t know. I just wanted to be with him. We could have been in the North Pole for all it would have mattered to me. You know that nice little machete I normally keep up there?” She gestured to the mantle. “I got that from Capetown while on our honeymoon! He taught me so much. How to run a farm, how to cook, how to defend myself,” she said proudly. “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him.”
“I hope I find a man like him someday!” Faith interjected enthusiastically. Her expression saddened. “If there is still anyone around after all of this. If I’m still alive...”
Rosemary hugged her comfortingly. “It’ll all be fine, child. You just keep waiting for the right one. Be picky. It pays off in the end.”
For the next couple of hours, the women played several games of bull, laughing hysterically to the point that they almost forgot that the world was falling apart around them.
It was completely dark outside, a cozy antique lamp illuminating the faces of the two women and casting shadows throughout the room.
Faith was about to deal out another hand of cards, shuffling them intently as she tried to keep her mind from worrying about her sister and brother, when she looked up, her face suddenly drained of color, her body frozen.
Rosemary immediately noticed and followed her gaze, turning in her chair to the window.
Someone was looking in through the thin glass separating them from the outside.
And that someone was dead.
Chapter 14:
Houston glanced over at the gas gauge. Close to empty. He tapped his thumb on the steering wheel impatiently. He hadn’t seen a gas station for hours.
Houston ran his hand over several days’ worth of stubble, stressed. He definitely didn’t feel like walking.
He tried the GPS on his phone to find the closest location to fuel up. Either he didn’t have reception this far out, or the phone lines were down. He tossed the phone on the passenger seat.
There was a sign ahead.
“Atlanta—180 miles.”
Haven’s town of Green Acres was about two hours south of Atlanta. He could be there in no time if he drove fast.
Due to the lack of passengers in the cars, it seemed that a rapid departure from the traffic jams had taken place when the disease first broke out. He didn’t know where the missing people were, but based on the fact that car doors were wide open, windows were broken, and belongings were strewn about, he knew that they had left in a hurry.
The further out he got, the more desolate it became. Houston had seen a couple of zombies shambling along the back roads, but nothing that prevented him from continuing on his journey.
He wondered if this was the apocalypse, and he thought about a lot of things as he drove.
He reflected on how well Duke had played this year. Then he worried that he’d never see another Duke game again. He wondered if Josh Snead, the team’s running back and his favorite player, was dead, now some kind of giant football-playing flesh eater, groaning and hissing through his football helmet as he tried and failed to devour the living. He couldn’t imagine a world without football. It absolutely crushed him.
Houston considered how he might never see another new movie or hear another new song. Hollywood would become some decayed relic that only the original survivors of the apocalypse would remember and subsequently pass on that memory to future generations.
And when he thought of that, his mind wandered to the idea of bringing children into this present world that was wrought with death and destruction. He kept telling himself the chaos would be contained by the government and military and law enforcement personnel, but as he drove on, he was becoming less and less confident about that.
His thoughts haunted him and caused his insides to churn.
Most of all, he missed his parents, and he missed his girlfriend. He wished they were with him in that moment. He and Haven always had the best road trips, usually preferring to drive than fly to their destination as it saved them money and tended to be more memorable in the long run. This was mainly because she’d insist on stopping to sightsee along the way. Smoky Mountain Knife Works in Tennessee had definitely been one of the coolest sites. Haven had gotten him an old Romanian AK 1st Pattern Bayonet with a carbon steel blade one summer. Nothing fancy, but he loved it.
Glancing at her photo, he hoped that she was safely ensconced in her home, plenty of food supplies, water, weapons, and ammo to keep her and her family safe. If they could hold out until he got there, he had a plan.
His parents’ cabin was built into the side of a mountain in West Virginia. They had designed it themselves and intended to use it as a vacation spot that would be shared with his father’s two brothers and their families. Houston had never been there as it had only been erected in the last couple of years while he was abroad with Haven. During its construction, his father had sent him several satellite images, and Houston noticed that the cabin was surrounded by breath-taking mountains and lush green forests. Located in the New River/Greenbrier Valley of southeastern West Virginia, the place looked to be the only house around for miles, and because of its isolation, the address had been burned into his memory.
590 Blue Mountain Road.
Once his mother had finished decorating everything, he’d received photos of every room, detailed images of everything from the décor consisting of animal skins and mounted moose heads to the elaborate basement that was stocked to the brim with every delight a man could hope to have in his own “man cave.”
They had invested a great deal of their savings into the cabin, and by the end of it, Houston had to admit that it looked pretty fantastic. Once he returned from his travels, he fantasized about taking Haven there someday for a nice little romantic getaway. After all, what was more desirable than vacationing in a man oasis with a beautiful woman?
He’d even wanted to pop the question to Haven.
Now, however, he was thinking along the lines of practicality.
He fervently prayed that his parents were already there, awaiting him. With the phone lines down, however, he had no way of knowing. So now, he was going to get Haven and her family to that perfect sanctuary cut off from the rest of the world and God-willing, reunite with his parents, too.
Within minutes, a small gas station came into view, the sign in front of it spelling out “Texaco” in faded red letters.
Houston shifted gears and slowed down, turning on his brights and scanning the dirt parking lot for any signs of life. Only one vehicle sat in the lot, a safe distance away from the two gas pumps.
There were no lights on inside.
Houston was shocked to have come across it. He looked at the gas prices and realized the little store certainly capitalized off its monopoly on being the only fuel provider for miles.
He parked next to the first pump and turned off the car, then reached into his backpack, pulled out the M1911, and waited.
After a minute passed, he opened the car door and walked over to the pump. He scanned his credit card, selected a fuel grade, squeezed the nozzle, and was relieved that he didn’t have to go inside to get the pump to work. He had seen enough movies to know that doing so didn’t end up favorably for the character concerned.
Houston stayed alert, his eyes trained on the darkness around him. Seconds seemed to pass like hours.
The tank was almost full when he heard a thump.
He turned to the source of the noise, his back against the Trans Am.
At first, he couldn’t see a thing, but as he peered into the shadows, the moon his only source of light, he could make out the faint silhouette of something inside. Houston stepped around the pump to get a better look, his gun ready.
He hated the thought of going into the store, but if there were any supplies to be had, he needed to get them. He didn’t know when he’d come across another opportunity again on these back roads.
Walking back to his car, he replaced the fuel pump and strode over to the store.
Another thump. He couldn’t see anything, but figured it was probably the owner of the lone pick-up truck.
His palms sweaty as he clutched the gun, Houston slowly approached the entrance.
Whispering a quick prayer that he wouldn’t die alone in the middle of nowhere in front of a tiny gas station, he grabbed the door handle and pulled it open.
Almost immediately, the smell of death greeted him. He paused at the door for a moment and held his breath. The silence was painful.
The moon slipped behind the clouds leaving him shrouded in complete darkness. His muscles tensed as he waited for a zombie to jump out from behind the shelves of food.
Out of nowhere, something tackled him to the floor.
His gun flew out of his hands and skidded to a halt just outside the store. Houston yelled in earnest, kicking and punching wildly.
He felt a hot breath on his face, a wet tongue lapping his cheek. Long hair brushed against his eyes.
“Get the hell off of me!” he shouted, grabbing fistfuls of hair and yanking as hard as he could, roughly tossing the figure to the side. He heard a yelp.
He scrambled forward and found his gun.
Houston turned over on his back and aimed the gun in the direction of the yelp and frowned when he heard a high-pitched whimpering. Although his adrenaline was through the roof, he had enough sense about him to remember that zombies didn’t breathe. And they definitely didn’t yelp and whimper when you managed to hurt them. They were dead. They didn’t feel anything.
Suddenly, moonlight flooded the room, and he was able to see that what he assumed was a hairy, slobbering zombie was in fact a black and white Border Collie whimpering in the corner as it looked up at him, its ears down and its tail between its legs.
Houston sat up and shook his head, chuckling in disbelief as he lowered his gun.
“Of c
ourse you would be a dog,” he said aloud to himself. He rose to his feet and walked over to the canine as it backed up nervously against the wall.
“Come here, boy... err... girl? I don’t know. Come here, I won’t hurt you.” He leaned down and held out his hand.
The dog’s ears perked, and it stepped towards him hopefully.
Houston ruffled its fur affectionately, mouthing a quiet prayer of thanks that he was still in one piece.
“You almost gave me a heart attack, buddy. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you. Sorry I hurt you back there,” he said sincerely. “I thought you were one of them.”
He realized that he was having a one-sided conversation with a dog and sighed, walking to the door. Maybe riding solo wasn’t the best way to go.
Besides, he could use the company and the extra set of eyes and ears.
Houston looked back at the dog.
“You want to come with me, boy?” He patted his leg and gestured for the Border Collie to follow him.
The dog was exuberant at this point and jumped on Houston to emphasize its joy.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” He held the door open for the canine.
Trotting happily alongside its new master, the dog scanned the parking lot for any imminent threats. Convinced that nothing sinister was about, it patiently waited while Houston opened the passenger side door. It leapt in and sat in the front seat, tail wagging and doggie tongue hanging limply to the side.
“Haven will melt when she sees you,” he muttered.
Houston grinned and began to close the door. He looked back to the store and realized that he didn’t have any food for the dog. His own supplies were scant to begin with, so he figured he would make one more trip inside to grab a few essentials.
“Alright, wait here, buddy. I’m going to get a couple things for our little road trip. Stay put and be alert for anything suspicious.”
Houston went back into the store, making sure he cleared it before doing any shopping. The source of the smell ended up being a half-eaten gas station attendant who lay behind the counter. The man held a gun in one hand. Houston noticed the entrance wound at the man’s jaw. What remained of his head rested in a pool of dried blood.
The Good, the Dead, and the Lawless: The Undoing Page 16