State of Grace

by M. Lauryl Lewis

  I took a few deep breaths and listened. The quiet was maddening. I forced myself up off the floor. Gus wore a look of concern, his gaze fixed to my side. I looked down only to see dark crimson dripping from my fingertips. As I looked back up at Gus, the room spun and colors faded.

  CHAPTER 11

  Sleep. I was asleep and it felt so good. I could hear the clinking of someone stirring something; metal on glass? I wanted to open my eyes, but the desire to sleep won. Someone was nearby. I could hear muffled voices in the distance. A man and a woman whose voice was so familiar.

  “Emilie?” I called out.

  I forced my eyes open and tried to sit up. Searing pain in my arm made me cry out. A large white bandage covered my forearm. Nothing made sense. My mouth and eyes were dry, my hand hurt like hell, and I had just called out for my best friend. No. Emilie was dead. She had been gone for a long time now. Gus. I was with Gus.

  “Gus?” I called out, keeping my voice low.

  I blinked until my vision cleared. I was on a stretcher with an IV in my arm. I was in a room made of concrete and tile. It reminded me of the P.E. shower room back in high school. My head swam, forcing me to lay back down.

  “I’m here, darlin.”

  Gus walked through a door-less entry, his face looking grim.

  “Lay down, love. You’ve lost a lot of blood and I don’t want you fainting. You’ve been out for a couple days.”

  “What happened?” I asked, my voice catching from a dry throat.

  “Bad luck,” he said as he sat on a rolling stool next to the stretcher. “Sam’s friends showed up and killed off the herd that was trying to get into the library. A stray bullet hit your forearm.”

  “Now tell me the bad news,” I said, half-joking.

  He put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. His face was slack, except for his forehead. He wore the telltale sign of stress and worry; wrinkling of his brow. It was an odd expression of which I doubt he was aware. I’d seen it before, far too many times.

  “Gus? What is it?”

  After a long pause, he looked up at me. His eyes were red-streaked and his eyelids swollen.

  “You’ve been crying,” I said.

  He hung his head again and sighed deeply.

  “There’s just been a lot of shit happening,” he said, trying to dismiss his emotions.

  “Where are we?”

  “An old concrete warehouse a bit south of Wenatchee. It looks like maybe it used to be part of a farm. Turns out Sam’s group set it up as an infirmary a couple weeks ago when several of them got sick.”

  “Sick with what?”

  “Sounds like it was a nasty stomach bug. They lost one of the babies and the two eldest in the group; a husband and wife who were both going on their eighty-second birthdays.”

  “Why are we here? Why not at their camp?”

  “This is it. It’s all that’s left. Fourteen people, one dog, and a handful of supplies.”

  I sat up as far as I could without getting too dizzy. “Hope. Where is she?”

  “She’s okay. She’s here, just a few rooms down. She’s tired and anxious to see you.”

  “Bring her to me?”

  “Of course. I just wanted to fill you in first. Their camp was overrun by Roamers. There were thirty-nine of their people there when it happened, Zoe. Thirty-nine, including Hoot and Hope.”

  “Oh God, Hoot? Is he...?” my voice trailed off.

  “Alive. He was with the few who made it out.”

  “Thank God,” I said quietly.

  “Okay. Before I bring Hope in, you need to know her left arm is wrapped in gauze. Don’t you panic, she’s okay.”

  “What happened?”

  “When they were escaping from the horde, she cut her arm on a chain link fence. Hoot said she was very brave during it all.”

  “Bring her to me, please.”

  He nodded but made no effort to stand.

  “You look tired, Gus.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a rough couple of days. Add donating blood and I’m pretty wiped.”

  I looked at my arm and followed the IV line to where a bag hung on the wall behind me. “That’s yours?” I asked, indicating the blood.

  “Ayup. Well, it’s yours now. You lost a lot before we got you here.”

  “Did you ever find Sam?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I still don’t know how he did it one-handed, but he managed to climb an old oak tree. Other than a broken wrist and scraped up knee he seems okay. Pretty shaken, but we all are.”

  Tired, I laid back down on the stretcher. He leaned forward, resting his head just below my chest. I put my hand on his head and stroked his hair. I hadn’t realized I was cold until the heat from his closeness caused me to shiver.

  “I’m so tired of it all,” he mumbled against me. “So tired of it all.”

  He kept his head against me and began crying.

  “Shhhh,” I tried to soothe him. “Gus, what’s wrong?”

  “So many people died today. It just never ends. It’s all just...death.”

  “No...”

  “Yes,” he sniveled.

  “There’s always life. It used to be just you and me...remember?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Look at me,” I said.

  He tilted his head so that he could see me. He had dark circles under his tear-filled eyes. I ran my palm across his cheek. His beard had grown so long that it hid how gaunt his cheeks had become.

  I continued. “We’ve made life, Gus. We have Hope. Her name stands for so much and we have to always believe it’s all worth it. It’s not just death out there.”

  He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.

  “It’s all too much,” he said as he closed his eyes.

  Before I had a chance to ask him to elaborate, the moment was interrupted by throat-clearing at the doorway. I looked up to see the most beautiful sight: Hoot holding our little Hope. Smiling, I reached my free arm out for her.

  “Hi, baby,” I said in a soothing voice.

  Our daughter turned away, burying her head against Hoot’s chest.

  “Hope, honey, come see mama,” said Gus.

  Hoot rubbed her back while he carried her closer. She whimpered a couple of times before Gus took her from our friend.

  “It’s okay, Little Bug. It’s just mama.”

  She peeked around Gus at me. A frown developed as she pointed at my arm.

  “It hurts,” she said with tears beginning to fill her eyes.

  I forced a smile. “It’s okay baby,” I whispered. “Mama’s okay.”

  “No, mama. It hurts.”

  Gus looked intently into her eyes. “Mama’s alright.”

  “Mama’s arm hurts,” she said.

  “Zoe? Do you need pain meds?” Gus asked.

  “If you have any. But it’s not that bad. I can go without.”

  “Hoot? Mind taking Hope for a few minutes?”

  “Nah man, it’s no problem.” He reached for Hope, who seemed relieved to climb back into his arms.

  “Can we go see Aum?” she whispered.

  “Sure thing, Jellybean.” Hoot looked at me. “I’ll bring her back in half an hour or so?”

  I nodded. As badly as I wanted to hold her, I let her decide what she was comfortable with.

  “See ya later baby,” I said weakly.

  Hoot left with her and I sunk down into the bed. My arm was screaming at me, but I hadn’t wanted to admit that in front of Hope.

  “It’s bad?” asked Gus.

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Hang tight. I’ll grab some morphine for both you and Sam. He’s about due.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. As soon as your transfusion is done, we need to leave here. It’s just not safe.”

  I groaned. “Hey. Who’s Aum?”

  “It’s what Hope calls Autumn.”

  I closed my eyes and listened as his footfalls led him from the small, dank
room. The sound of thunder clapped outside. Wind blew in through an old broken-out window, carrying with it the scent of rain to come. The passage of time seemed to stand still. My arm throbbed with each beat of my heart. I pictured Gus’ face, trying to focus on something other than the pain of my injury.

  ***

  I woke feeling heavy. My injured arm ached, but the intense pain had eased. Hope’s sweet childhood scent, partly that of a fresh baby and partly sweaty toddler, surrounded me. I could feel her warm breath against my armpit. The room was dark, but I didn’t need light to know my sweet girl was near. She was sleeping on my uninjured arm, which was tingling and numb. I haphazardly adjusted onto my side, bringing my bandaged arm with me. Hope whimpered quietly at being disturbed.

  “It’s okay, baby,” I quietly soothed, sensing her concern. “I’m okay. Where’s Daddy?”

  “Daddy’s with the sick man,” she said as if it were the most normal sentence in the world. I wasn’t used to her speaking in full sentences.

  “Sam?”

  She shook her head side to side. “Ray. Papa make Ray better.”

  A crash in the distance made us both jump. I hugged Hope close as we waited in the dark. I felt her breath quicken as the sound of footfalls filled the hallway. The curtain hanging in the doorway of the room whipped open wide, making us both jump. Light flooded the room, blinding us. Hope squirmed and whined, a telltale sign that the light hurt her pale eyes.

  “You have to get up, quick!” boomed Hoot’s voice.

  “What’s going on?” I asked as I struggled to sit up.

  “You can’t feel it?” he asked, surprised.

  Hope began crying as he rushed toward us. She readily climbed into his arms. As soon as she was off of me, I took Hoot’s arm and swung my legs over the edge of the stretcher. My head swam for a moment as I adjusted to sitting upright.

  “One of them just turned,” he explained. “He bit someone else. Bit onto their arm before they knew what the hell was going on.”

  “Who?” I asked, suddenly terrified that Gus may be the victim.

  “I’m not sure. Gus just yelled for me to get you two out of here.”

  Two gunshots rang out, causing Hope to jump in Hoot’s arms. Her thumb instantly went to her mouth. I looked down at my arm. The IV was gone and the bandage was clean and. Gus must have changed it.

  I tossed my blanket aside and stood.

  “Turn right and head down the hallway,” Hoot said. “There’s a door at the far end. There’s a school bus waiting outside just to the left. As soon as you’re on board I’ll hand Hope over to you.”

  Before he finished speaking, we were well on our way down the dark hallway. The only light came from battery-operated stick-it lights that clung to the walls about every fifteen feet. Someone in the distance screamed. It sounded like a woman, but the agony within the sound made it impossible to tell for sure. As I reached the door at the end of the hall, I paused. Hoot bumped into me as I came to a stop. The screaming continued.

  “I have to get Gus,” I choked out as Hoot looked at me as if I were certifiably insane.

  “No. He and the others will meet us at the bus. If they’re not here there in three minutes, I’ll go back.”

  He pressed the metal bar on the door and followed us out into the night.

  “Mama we go home now?”

  I looked at her quickly and shook my head side to side.

  “Baby, stay quiet until we’re on the bus, okay?”

  She nodded once and then shoved her thumb back into her mouth. The bus was several yards away. Not far beyond was a group of four Roamers staggering in our direction. Wind blew steadily, carrying with it the stench of rot and mud.

  “Get on board,” Hoot barked as we rushed to the folding door of the vehicle.

  By the look of it, it had been a school bus at some point. Yellow paint showed through black paint that had been applied haphazardly. Iron bars ran vertically over the windows. The door had been replaced with a large piece of sheet metal, painted dark green. It was obvious someone had attempted to camouflage the rig. Hoot used his free arm to disengage a slide-lock at the top edge of the door, allowing him to pull it open.

  “Climb in, quick!” he hollered.

  I didn’t need to be told a second time. Instinct drove me up the steps. As soon as I was halfway up, I turned and reached for Hope. The growls and moans of the dead were alarmingly close. Instead of handing her to me, Hoot clung to her as he himself climbed the stairs.

  “Pull the chain on the door!” he shouted.

  Hope began crying loudly. I looked around for a chain, finding it overhead. The first Runner was already to the door opening and lurched in toward us. The bottom step caught it in the shins, forcing it forward onto its face.

  “Hoot!” I yelled. “I can’t get it the door!”

  A gunshot rang out to my left, from in front of the bus. I looked quickly and saw a man with whom I was unfamiliar. He was clean-shaven and wore jeans and a gray Henley top. He held a pistol, aimed in our general direction. Four more shots fell the remaining three creatures. As he ran toward the bus, others were running from the building.

  “Clear the bodies!” I heard Gray Henley shout.

  “Zoe, let them get it. Head to the back of the bus.”

  I looked down the long bus aisle to the back, where Hoot was doing his best to comfort my daughter. Only the first four rows of bench seats remained. They rest had been replaced with boxes of what I assumed were emergency supplies. On my right were two couches bolted to the floor. A smaller loveseat spanned the width of the back, right in front of the rear emergency exit. Hoot sat with Hope as the others kicked aside bodies and began rushing on board. I sat beside him and took Hope. I desperately searched the line of boarding strangers for Gus. A woman in her later years collapsed onto one of the longer sofas, coughing and trying to catch her breath. The smell of vomit and smoke accompanied the small crowd, making my nose and eyes burn. Hope continued to keen softly. I held her close and kissed the top of her head.

  “Mama...baby Canda,” Hope whimpered.

  “She’ll be here soon,” Hoot assured her.

  “No. Baby Canda not cry,” she whined. “She cry and they go to sleep.”

  The infant that Sam had mentioned earlier.

  I was so relieved when I finally saw Gus stagger aboard. His face was coated in black soot and he, too, was coughing. The noise from people yelling, crying, coughing, and tripping over each other’s feet grew louder.

  “I bet Autumn has baby Canada,” Hoot said to Hope.

  “Aum,” she said with a quivering little chin. “Want Aum.”

  Gus rushed toward us, awkwardly walking around the others that were in his way. His front was covered in blood and soot. I stood and walked toward him. Once he did, he wrapped his arms around me.

  “We need to leave,” he whispered to me.

  “Who’s driving? And where’s Sam?” I asked.

  “Sam’s heading out. Autumn has his back.”

  “Baby Canda,” Hope whimpered as she looked wide-eyed at her dad.

  “She’ll be on the next bus, Sweet Girl,” Gus said.

  I knew that baby Canada was dead, if not from Gus’ raw emotion then from the strained look on his angular face. Hope cried quietly, as if she were trying to hide her distress. I knew instinctively that she too had picked up on Gus’ deep sadness. I held her tight and sat back on the couch. Gus joined us.

  Two men stood outside at the back of the bus, on point with rifles. I looked to Gus for an indication of what was to come next. He didn’t meet my gaze. Gunfire rang out behind us. Stealing a quick look out the emergency exit behind our loveseat, the two men on lookout were quickly making their way to the front of the bus. A girl in her teens cried out. “They’re coming!”

  The gunmen boarded and quickly pulled the door panel shut, securing it by wrapping a chain to the stair handrail.

  “Papa!” Hope wailed. “Flower! Sam! I want Aum!”

&
nbsp; On cue, Sam and Autumn came stumbling from the building. She carried a small blonde dog under one arm and was helping support Sam with her other. A Roamer stood between them and the entry to the bus. It was overly ripe with rotten flesh hanging from bone. They yelled for help, their cries mixing with a deep growl from the dead man that was now focused on them. The little dog barked wildly.

  “Open the door!” I yelled out. “Help them!”

  The armed men turned and looked at me.

  “Fuck,” one of them mumbled. He bent down to look out the windshield. I followed his gaze and saw several figures approaching.

  “Gus, they can’t open the door,” I whispered. “They look like Runners.”

  Gus stood. “Hope, go to Uncle Hoot.”

  She was still trying to breathe between sobs, but allowed Hoot to take her from me.

  “Don’t open it,” I cried out. “They’re too fast.”

  “Any other way on board?” Gus shouted out.

  “There’s a ladder on the back. If they can get that we can bring them in through the top hatch,” replied the woman who reeked of vomit.

  “Keep the Roamer focused on Autumn and Sam,” Gus hollered.

  He walked to a window and carefully lowered it on its tracks. The bars on the outside would not allow for the trio to climb in, but I knew that Gus only meant to kill the Roamer, who was rapidly advancing toward Autumn, Sam, and the dog. My husband took aim through the bars, focusing the end of his pistol on the Roamer.

  “I need them to get closer before I shoot it,” he mumbled. “Zo, I’m going to get its attention. When I do, yell for Sam and Autumn to run to the back ladder. Tad, get ready to start the engine and everyone else hold on,” he called forward.

  I stood and quickly made my way to the window closest to the back. The stacked boxes made reaching the locking device on the window difficult, but I managed. The pane lowered with a squeal. I scrambled to the top of the box pile, knocking a few over. Once to the top, I pressed my face to the opening at the top of the window.

  “Wait till I get it to face me, then call out the instructions,” Gus said without looking my way. His eyes remained focused on the end of his firearm. “I’ll be focused on any of the Runners who try to rush us.”

  I took a deep breath, ignoring the cries from my own daughter, and prepared to help. The plan seemed riddled with holes and I felt trapped inside the bus, unable to help. I also didn’t want to leave these people behind.