“Hey you dead fuckers!” Gus yelled out through his window. “Come get us!”
The creature turned toward the sound of his voice, but did not leave its position.
“Come on you fucker!” he yelled again.
“It’s not going to work. The Runners are keeping it on target,” I said mournfully. Even without being able to sense them, I knew how the Runners worked.
“Sam, Autumn, I’m going to shoot this son of a bitch. You need to move toward the back of the bus and climb the ladder as soon as I fire. Understand?”
I saw Sam nod in understanding.
“You won’t have much time before the faster ones are on you. Just get up the ladder and to the hatch up top. On my mark...”
Three heartbeats later his gun kicked and the resulting sound of the chamber unloading rang out, adding to the tension. The Roamer fell and was still while the man and woman rushed to the back of the bus. Through the rearmost window we watched as Autumn began her ascent one-handed, as her other clutched the small dog. Sam was right behind her, also one-handed from his broken wrist. I glanced forward and saw that the Runners were already to the middle of the bus. I watched in horror as three of them began scaling the sides of the bus, not bothering to follow their prey up the ladder. They were agile beyond what we’d seen before, making the climb aboard look like child’s play.
“Oh my God,” the woman wearing vomit cried out. “Oh my God they’re gonna get in!” She was near hysteria.
Gus left his place at the window and rushed to the top hatch. My stomach sank, knowing he was about to play hero. As I watched, he climbed onto the back of a bench seat and unlatched the hatch before hefting himself up and partway through.
I didn’t have time to cry out in protest. Three more shots rang out, each time resulting in a loud “thud” against the thin metal roof. Gus stepped down as Autumn’s legs lowered into the cabin. He grabbed her around the waist as he lowered her to the floor, the dog still under her arm. The animal struggled to climb out of her grasp once it spotted Hope. The bus shuddered as the engine roared to life. Sam clambered down from the hatch, landing hard on his side. Gus maneuvered around him to secure the hatch, which like the front door was held in place by a chain.
“Everyone hold on!” shouted Gray Henley. “It’s gonna get bumpy!”
Sam struggled to sit upright, wincing as he jarred his splinted wrist against the seat behind him. Those left standing all either sat or held onto something secure. The first several yards of our drive to the unknown were met with many bumps and collisions with the dead. Roamers continued to attempt to climb on board, but their efforts were met with iron bars and locked entries. Soon after departing, the speed of the bus left them behind.
CHAPTER 12
The ride away from the old concrete building was somber. Few people spoke for the first several miles. Hope remained on Hoot’s lap, with Autumn and Flower at her side. My darling had calmed once Autumn was safely aboard, but her pale little face still wore a look of deep sadness.
“Hope? Do you want to sit with me?” I asked.
She shook her pudgy little face side-to-side and clung to Autumn. In that moment, a sadness fell upon my heart. Looking around, I saw weary faces and broken people. Gus stood near the front of the bus, talking with the driver. Once we left behind the dampness from the prior rain, ash began to billow behind us, leaving an unsettling trail. The dead walked aimlessly in the distance, albeit much slower than we’d grown to expect. I knew they were all Roamers by the way they walked haphazardly. At one point we passed a Roamer crouched down on the side of the road eagerly eating what looked like a skinned chupacabra. Gray Henley slowed the bus to circumvent an old abandoned vehicle that was covered in a thin layer of ash.
I turned my attention to Hope when she made a noise of disgust.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
She plugged her nose and looked at me. “Flower pooted.”
As she spoke the words, the burn of dog flatulence bit my nose.
“He probably needs to go to the bathroom,” I said. “I’ll let your Papa know.”
I smiled at her and walked to the front of the bus, where Gus was busy talking to the driver.
“Gus, I think the dog needs to go to the bathroom.”
“It’s probably as good a time as any to stop for a break,” said the driver.
Gus turned to face everyone and cleared his throat.
“We haven’t seen the dead in a while. Now’s a good time to take a break. If you need help getting on or off the bus, raise your hand. If your hand isn’t raised, try to help someone who needs it.” He sounded so tired. “Stay within fifty feet or so.”
“Hope, let’s go,” I said quietly.
She shook her head. She looked fearful. “No Mama. No touch.”
I was perplexed. “Hope, I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No Mama. No.”
My heart broke as I looked at my daughter, not understanding what she was afraid of. She clung tightly to Autumn, trying to put distance between herself and me. Hoot stood and set his hand on my shoulder.
“Let Autumn take her?” he said, not quite asking and not quite instructing.
I looked at him, doing my best to keep my face neutral.
“I’ll stay with them. She’ll be safe,” he said, trying to reassure me.
I reached to touch the top of Hope’s head, a gentle gesture I had done since she was just new. She flinched and shrunk farther away.
“Hope, it’s okay,” Autumn said lovingly.
“No, Aum. No hurt Mama.”
Gus joined us at the rear of the bus. As others began to leave the safety of the vehicle, he wrapped an arm around my waist. Hope sniffled and tightened herself against Autumn.
“We need to hurry,” said Gus.
“Hope’s a bit attached to Autumn right now,” I explained.
“I’m headed out with them,” continued Hoot.
“Thanks, brother. Let’s get to it, come on, all of you, Hope, Autumn, Zoe. We all need a bathroom break.”
***
As the miles passed, the layer of ash on the ground had grown sparse. The sun was straight overhead, finally warming the day to a tolerable temperature. The air smelled clean, as if death had yet to touch the area. I watched as Hoot and Autumn carried Hope to the shoulder of the roadway. Autumn set her down and she and Hoot stood careful guard.
“Where are we heading?” I asked my husband.
“North for now. Away from the ash.”
I looked to the south. Mt. Rainier was still releasing a stream of smoke and volcanic material. It was farther away and appeared much smaller, but still made me nervous.
“There’s no point in heading back south. Anything near the mountain will be covered in volcanic spew and flooded from the melted glaciers.”
“Someplace new, then,” I said quietly.
“Graeme wants to head to Canada. He says he heard a brief radio transmission a few months back about a safe zone on Vancouver Island. I don’t think we have much choice. We need to check it out.”
“Graeme - is that the guy who’s driving the bus?” I asked.
“Yeah. He’s a good guy. Doesn’t talk much. He lost his family when this all started.”
I didn’t ask how. Questions like that were typically best left unasked. If we were lucky, there would be time to get to know him later.
“Canada it is, then.”
“Hope’s acting weird,” he said quietly.
“She won’t let me touch her. Maybe she’s just exhausted.”
“Probably scared too. Let’s go. I don’t like it here,” he admitted. “It’s too open.”
“I haven’t been able to feel them for a while. Or you.”
“You’re not pregnant, right?”
“We haven’t exactly done it lately,” I grumbled.
“We’ll change that as soon as we get settled. I promise.”
He bent down slightly and kissed me gently on my lips. I w
ish I could say I felt an electric charge, but my extra sense seemed dead. Instead I inhaled as I took in the warmth of his lips and the softness of his short beard.
Graeme stepped up onto a small boulder that sat just a couple of feet off the highway and clapped his hands only loud enough to catch the attention of those of us still outside the bus. Within a couple of seconds, we all fell silent in anticipation of whatever it was he wanted to say.
He began by clearing his throat gently. “I want to get back on the road in just a minute. We’ve had a few injuries and the engine on the bus is acting up. It’s probably just clogged from all the ash, but as soon as we come across some other options we’ll need to ditch this beast. The plan for now is to keep heading north and cross the border into Canada.”
“That’s one big place,” said a short man with graying hair and a thick neck. “What do you hope to find there?”
“Last radio transmission I got mentioned a safe zone on Vancouver Island. And, to be honest, I don’t know where else to go.”
“The kids need to eat,” said Autumn.
“Flower eat too!” chirped Hope.
As if hearing her name, the little dog erupted from the front door of the bus and ran out into the field beside us. Her bark was high pitched and angry and her hackles were up. Her shrill yipping turned to a mixture of growling and whining as her tail drooped down between her hind legs.
“Everyone back on the bus!” said Gus between clench teeth.
“What is it?” asked Hoot.
“The dead. I can feel them nearby,” Gus said as he placed a hand over his heart and massaged. “Get on board, now! Start the engine...”
I rushed toward Autumn, Hoot, and Hope. I was closer to the door of the bus. Hoot took Hope from Autumn’s arms, took the woman’s hand in his, and began to run. I held my arms out to take my daughter, but she refused. As soon as she was planted into my arms, bitter cold fell over my arms and chest. It felt like the grip of an icy fist, at first starting with a frosty burn that grew quickly to an electric-like shock. I clenched Hope with my hands, determined to get her up the steps and behind the safety of the sheet metal and barred windows of the converted bus. The hands that I so desperately tried to use to cling to my daughter failed me, the burning sensation causing me to let go. As Hope slid down my front I couldn’t understand why she didn’t try to hold onto me. She landed at the top of the steps with a small thud and looked up at me. Her pale face was wet with tears, her nose running.
She began sobbing, to a point of being nearly unintelligible. “Mama no touch! Mama no touch me! Mama no!”
I could feel my heart struggling to beat within my chest while my lungs painfully fought to take in air. Standing became too difficult and while I wanted to reach forward toward my little girl, I instead fell backward. My vision blurred as I hit the hard ground at the bottom of the bus steps. Ringing in my ears distorted the voice calling my name, but I knew it was Gus. Everything felt cold. The ground. Gus’ hands. The air that refused to enter my chest.
“Hoot, get Hope out of here! Zoe, don’t you dare die on me, darlin’!”
My throat made a strange high pitched noise that sounded nothing like it came from a human being. I opened my eyes wide and focused on Gus’ panicked face while my back arched painfully. I kept my eyes open, not by choice, and my vision began to fade. Unable to draw a breath, the last thing I saw before things went black was Gus raising his fist above me. His fist striking my chest caused excruciating pain. The air that flooded my lungs burned intensely. Hope’s screaming in the distance was worse than the torture my body felt. Soon many people were screaming around me. I gasped for breath, writhing on the ground. The smell of death burned my nose when I was able to finally inhale. Gus was no longer at my side and my hip ached deeply. The sound of a shotgun pierced my left ear and the smell of gunpowder mingled with that of decay. The sounds of the dead mixed with that of men and women yelling, the dog barking, and muffled screaming from somewhere within the bus. Arms encircled me and pulled me to a standing position. My head was still filled with fog and my heart beat was uncomfortably irregular as if threatening to stall altogether.
“C’mon, friend,” said the woman holding onto me. “Inside!”
I struggled to cling to her as she eagerly encouraged me up the steps of the bus. Hope’s cries intensified once I was aboard. I searched for her frantically. She sounded like she was in pain. I found her in the back of the bus on one of the couches, Hoot and Autumn holding onto her while she writhed.
“Hope,” I croaked out.
My voice sent her into a frenzy. I wasn’t sure if she was scared for me, or of me. She all but climbed behind Autumn. Hoot stood and coughed.
“Jessa, bring her back here to the couch!”
The woman supporting me, Jessa, didn’t answer but began walking toward the longest of the two couches. Hoot threw a blanket down, presumably to cover vomit from the woman who had been there at the start of the trip. Gunfire continued outside. I was sure I heard Gus screaming at someone. Once to the edge of the couch, I toppled onto it. My knees instinctively drew toward my chest and my arms crossed each other. I was so cold it hurt from head to toe.
“Mommy,” moaned Hope. “Mommy...I sorry, Mama!”
The bus rocked heavily as more of the group piled onboard.
“Where is she?” boomed Gus’ voice. “Zoe!”
“She’s back here,” said Hoot loudly.
My teeth chattered and I clenched my eyes closed. I felt like I had chugged a Slurpee and had the worst brain freeze possible. Gus’ hands embraced my face. They were so warm they almost burned.
“Zoe, what happened?” he asked, his voice stern yet caring.
I blinked, but found myself unable to keep my eyes open.
“Look at me, baby,” he said. The alarm in his voice was frightening.
I forced my eyes open but was unable to focus on his face.
“H-h-hope,” I stammered, fighting the tremble of my jaw.
“She’s here, baby. Hoot has her.”
I struggled to clear my vision, but was unable to see past his face.
“Gus,” interrupted Hoot.
“What?” he asked, still not looking away from me.
“You need to see this,” he said. His voice sounded grim.
“Go-g-go,” I said through chattering teeth.
“Jessa, can you cover her up?” asked my husband.
“On it,” said the woman. “Jenny, can you bring one of the afghans? And some hand warmers?”
I closed my eyes and focused on breathing. My chest still burned with the need for oxygen. Jenny and Jessa opened the instant hand warmers and soon they were tucked under my arms, in my hands, at my groin, and the base of my neck. Hoot and Gus spoke in hushed tones, but I knew by the tone of Gus’ voice he was both angry and fearful.
“Hope, come to me right now,” he said, trying to force our daughter to leave Autumn’s arms.
I had never heard him speak to her that harshly before. Her crying instantly intensified.
“Hope!” he shouted.
“G-g-gus...no,” I groaned.
“Gus, the skin on her arms is black. Look,” interrupted Autumn.
“It hurts, dada!” Hope whimpered pathetically.
I struggled to sit up, but Jessa held a hand on my shoulder.
“Hope?” I called out. “Baby what’s wrong?”
“Mama we hurt!” her crying got louder.
“Gus, bring her to me,” I begged.
She began screaming. “No! No Mama! No no no!”
“Jessa, let me up!” I used one of my hands to shoo her away from me
As soon as I was on my feet, the bus lurched forward and I fell backwards, landing on my butt. Gus got to Hope well before I could and knelt in front of her on the couch. He reached for her despite her look of horror and screeches of protest. The sounds of distress coming from my daughter made me sick to my stomach.
“Gus, don’t touch her,” I sa
id loudly.
“Fuck, Zoe, we need to see what’s wrong!” he snapped at me and tried to take Hope out of Autumn’s arms.
Blood ran down Autumn’s face as Hope clawed at her. She immediately let go of our daughter and Gus used the opportunity to bring her to him, holding her tightly against his chest while steadying her head with his chin. She hit, kicked, and clawed until he let go. I knew something was very wrong when Hoot pulled her back and her arms and cheek were black with skin sloughing off in sheets.
“Hope...” I cried out.
She wailed from pain as Gus struggled to catch his breath. The left side of his beard looked wet and as I knelt to inspect him, I could see it was bloody fluid. I looked at Hope, who looked back at me with fear and tears in her eyes.
“Let me take her till we figure it out,” said Hoot with unusual calmness.
Gus rubbed at his chin and stared at Hope. I could tell he was worried about Hope, confused, and frustrated. He quickly pulled his hand away from his face.
“She burnt me,” he whispered as he looked at the fluid left behind on his fingertips. “Hope, baby, what’s happening?” he asked her.
She clung to Hoot and sobbed.
“She’s in pain,” said Hoot. “Can we give her an aspirin or something?”
“Never aspirin for kids,” Gus mumbled. “Give her a quarter of a Tylenol.”
“Gus, what’s wrong with her?” It seemed a stupid question, but I wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Autumn, are you okay?” asked Hoot.
“I will be, but she really got my forehead. I should clean it.”
“I’ll help,” said Jenny. It wasn’t until she spoke that I realized the bus load of people had been quiet during the odd display.
Hope’s cries began to subside. Hoot held her close and rubbed her back gently. I could see her small body twitch on occasion, a sure sign that she was falling asleep.
“Her arms,” I said. I could hear the distress in my own voice. “What’s wrong with her arms?”
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