Afternoon

by Kody Boye

  “I know how to siphon it,” Jamie replied. “We had to do it a few times coming this way ourselves. Didn’t we, babe?”

  “Yeah,” Dakota sighed. “We did.” He crossed his arms over his chest and surveyed the nearby area—hoping, to God or whatever entity might be listening, that they would be able to find and arrange enough supplies for the multiple-day journey it would take to get to the east coast. They’d scavenged most of the area, and though they could always go beyond the initial few blocks they’d scoured, he didn’t fancy the idea of exposing themselves to additional, possibly-unseen dangers.

  “The first order of business,” Rose said, “is to get this baby down the street.” She hopped into the driver’s seat, slid the key into the ignition, and engaged the vehicle, which hummed slightly before coming to life. “Then we need to start arranging things, and us, inside to see if we can all fit.”

  *

  “Dad,” Arnold said. “Are we really going to be leaving?”

  “That’s still up for debate,” Kevin said as he looked out the window as Rose, Jamie, Dakota and Steve cleaned out the inside of the van and then rearranged the compartments within. “There’s no telling if the fort they want to go to is still standing.”

  “But if they’re all leaving,” Mark said, “then where does that leave us?”

  Kevin had anticipated this question—had, without a doubt in his mind, been waiting for this moment to come. He just hadn’t expected it to surface so soon.

  Damn Rose, he thought as he watched the woman sort through the glove compartment. Damn her and her wanderlust.

  With a sigh, Kevin turned to face his children, both of whom appeared shocked and undoubtedly scared. “If they all plan on leaving,” he said, looking first at his youngest and most afraid son, then at the older and more stoic one, “then we’ll either have to go with them or stay here.”

  “I don’t want to leave,” Mark said.

  “But we can’t stay here,” Arnold replied. “Not if it’s just going to be the three of us. We can’t leave dad to make the supply runs on his own.”

  “We can help him. We’re not little kids.”

  “You’re still my little kids,” Kevin said. “God, guys. You’re almost thirteen and fifteen years old. You can’t honestly expect me to take you guys out on supply runs.”

  “We did when they were gone,” Mark said.

  “That was with Desmond, when we had another adult to look out for us. But without them…” Kevin sighed. “I don’t know what we’ll do.”

  “We obviously can’t stay here,” Arnold said. “We wouldn’t last without them.”

  “And I don’t want to leave,” Mark said.

  “Mark,” Kevin sighed as his youngest ran up the nearby stairs. “Please don’t—” The door slammed before he could finish. “Slam the door.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Arnold said, turning to start toward the stairway. He stopped before he could place his hand on the railing and turned to face his father. “Dad?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Kevin said.

  “We can’t stay here. It doesn’t matter what you think or how Mark feels. It’s too dangerous to stay here with just the three of us.”

  As Arnold turned and made his way up the stairs, Kevin realized a horrible and startling truth.

  His son was right.

  *

  “Mark,” Arnold said as he entered the room he and his little brother shared.

  “What?” the twelve, almost thirteen-year-old pouted, turning his head from where it was buried in his pillow to look at him.

  “We can’t do this to Dad. He’s already having a hard enough time as it is.”

  “I don’t want to leave, Arnie. I feel safe here.”

  “So do I, but it isn’t going to be safe if the few people who know how to use guns are leaving.”

  Mark sniffled and pushed himself into a sitting position.

  Arnold, unsure how to proceed, merely stepped forward and settled down on the bed beside his brother. “I know it’ll be scary,” he said, “but has Dad ever put us in any danger that he didn’t have to?”

  “No,” Mark replied, leaning into his older brother’s body as tears began to swim down his face. “It’s just… why do we have to leave just because Rose wants to?”

  “Because she’s right,” Arnold sighed.

  Even he, at nearly fifteen, could realize that they would eventually extinguish their supplies—that their group, dwindling as it was, would not last forever. He dreaded to think who might die next—especially if it happened to be their dad—and he knew that staying behind without the rest of the group would only serve to endanger them. Because of that, he knew he had to convince Mark that staying would be detrimental—and that, if they stayed, there was a very real chance that they could either die or be left alone without their dad.

  He’ll never let us back on supply runs after what happened last time, he thought, thinking back to Mark and how he’d been forced—after Desmond had been attacked—to cave in the skull of a zombie.

  It was too dangerous for boys like them in this world. He knew that, Mark knew that, their dad knew that.

  “Wouldn’t it be better if we were somewhere safer?” Arnold finally asked. “Somewhere where we might be able to have friends? Go to school? Lead a somewhat-normal life?”

  “You really think there’d be schools at this… Fort… Hope… place?”

  “I don’t see why there wouldn’t be,” Arnold replied. “Rose said it used to be a boarding house for boys, which meant that it was a private school at some point. There’ll probably be teachers there.”

  “And we’d actually learn how to do things?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Cooking, how to clean properly, farming. Maybe they’ll even teach us how to make clothes.”

  “That sounds boring,” Mark pouted.

  “I know, but it’s stuff we’re going to have to learn eventually, especially if we don’t want to go outside the walls.”

  “I don’t like them,” Mark said, turning his head to look out the window—where, in the distance, a lone zombie shambled.

  “Neither do I,” Arnold replied. “Which is why we have to take a chance and let Dad know that we’re willing to try.”

  “You don’t think we’ll die… do you?”

  “I’d never let anything happen to you, Mark. Not if I could help it.”

  Mark wrapped his arms around Arnold’s torso and leaned into his body.

  When his younger brother started crying, Arnold couldn’t help but shed a few tears himself.

  If only Jessiah were here.

  He’d know what to say.

  *

  Kevin lifted his eyes from their place at the empty fireplace as he heard the sound of descending footsteps. Hoping for the best but expecting the worst, he turned and regarded his children as they made their way down the stairs, but not before he saw that both of their faces were reddened from tears.

  Oh no, he thought.

  “Mark?” Kevin asked. “Arnold? Is everything all right?”

  “We’re just scared, Dad,” the older boy said. “That’s all.”

  “We don’t want to leave,” Mark added as they neared the couch their father was seated on, “but Arnold explained what might happen if it was just the three of us and… I don’t want to take that chance.”

  “And neither do I,” Arnold replied.

  “Which means you’d be willing to go?” Kevin asked. “Even if you boys end up being crammed in the back of the SUV with Desmond?”

  Both children nodded. “We’ll do whatever it takes to have a better life,” Arnold said. “It’s what Mom would have wanted. What Jessiah would have wished for us.”

  Jessiah, Kevin sighed.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the flow of tears that threatened to come and found that they came anyway. “Come here,” he said, opening his arms and waving his fingers to gestur
e his boys forward. “Give me a hug.”

  Both children fell into his arms almost instantly.

  Kevin closed his eyes.

  He’d do anything for these boys.

  His only wish, out of everything in the world, was for them to have a better life.

  He’d pay for that—no matter what the cost.

  Chapter 11

  Winter passed. Spring came. The supplies they’d gathered over a course of several months were arranged into the small spaces within the vehicle or in bags atop it. Rose, determined to helm this mission if it were the last thing she ever did, packed every essential belonging they could possibly carry—and arranged, throughout the vehicle’s cargo hold, a series of blankets and pillows that would hopefully make the trip easier for the boys and Desmond.

  “It’s not going to be comfortable,” she said as she looked down at her work, “but at least it’s better than nothing.”

  Sequestered between several boxes of canned goods, both of Kevin’s children and Desmond attempted to make themselves as comfortable as possible, but to no avail. They eventually found themselves in positions they could bear and nodded to Rose as she reached up and began to close the trunk.

  “You sure they’ll be fine like this?” Kevin asked as Rose turned to face them.

  “I made them as comfortable as they could be,” Rose replied. “I’m sorry I can’t do more for them.”

  “You’re doing more for my children than I ever thought I could.”

  “You’re scared, Kevin. Everyone is.”

  “Even you?” he asked.

  “Why do you ask that?” she frowned.

  “It’s just… you don’t seem like you’re afraid of anything.”

  “I’m afraid of dying in a place I could’ve gotten out of,” Rose replied, looking to the side as Jamie and Dakota spraypainted the words, VACANT. SAFE INSIDE.on the gate that led into their once-sanctuary. “Someone else might be comfortable enough to stay there, but me? I can’t.”

  “I can only hope to be as strong as you are someday,” Kevin said.

  Rose reached down, squeezed Kevin’s hand, and forced a smile before turning and making her way over to where Jamie and Dakota stood. Both men were shirtless and sweating from the effort of their work in the eighty, almost ninety-degree weather.

  “Hey,” she said, placing a hand on both of their shoulders. “Are we almost ready?”

  “Steve’s just running in to get the last of the blankets he feels we’ll be able to carry,” Dakota replied, turning to face her. “What about you? How are you doing?”

  “Nervous, but I feel better about this decision than I ever have before.”

  “We’ve worked hard to make sure that this will go as smoothly as possible,” Jamie said. “We can only hope it goes all right.”

  “I’m sure it will,” Dakota said. “Don’t you?”

  Jamie didn’t respond.

  Though Rose desperately wanted to reach forward, take the man by the shoulders, and shake him until some sense finally entered his body, she knew there wouldn’t be a point.

  After all these months, he was still grieving his friend—and realizing, with the greatest and utter humility, how vulnerable they all were in a world where everything wanted to kill them.

  “All right,” Steve said as he exited the home Kevin and his sons had been staying in with the remaining quilts, blankets and pillows. “Here we are, people. Guess we can saddle up now.”

  “I guess,” Jamie sighed.

  Dakota reached out and placed a hand on his partner’s sweaty back.

  Together, with Rose’s help, they reached forward, pulled the gate shut, and closed yet another chapter on their unfortunate lives.

  Jamie looked like he would cry.

  Rose felt as though she would cave at any moment. You have to do this, she thought as she stared at the vacant homes—knowing, without a doubt, that her decision would ultimately lead them to happier and healthier lives. There’s no turning back now, not after you’ve come this far.

  The SUV was gassed up, their supplies were ready, more fuel lay atop the vehicle amongst the conglomeration of supplies.

  With one final look at the place they had called home for six months, Rose turned and made her way to the vehicle.

  It was only when she slid into the driver’s seat that she began to feel utterly afraid.

  *

  It was cramped in the back seat between Steve and Kevin, but it was at least better than riding in the back of the cargo bay with the boys. Desmond—who’d been slotted into the space along with the children based solely on his shorter stature—didn’t complain in the slightest, and instead remained quiet as the children dozed and Rose continued to drive.

  Day one, Dakota thought with an uneasy sigh, looking into the passenger seat to find Jamie staring stoically into the distance—watching, with unwavering eyes, the road and directing Rose on which paths to take as he stared at the map before them.

  This entire operation had been meticulously planned for months. The only thing that had prevented them was the weather.

  Now, on the first day of spring—and undoubtedly the hottest day of the year—they drove with their windows cracked toward a place that, for all they knew, could’ve already fallen to the zombie hordes.

  You can’t think about that, Dakota thought, tightening his hands into fists as he looked down at his waist. Think positive. Everything’s going to be just fine.

  “How they holding up back there?” Kevin whispered as he turned to look at Desmond.

  “They’re doing fine,” the eighteen-year-old man said, glancing at his teenaged companions. “I don’t know how they managed to fall asleep the way they did, but at least they won’t have to deal with the nerves we’re all facing.”

  “True,” Kevin replied.

  The tension was palpable—to the point where, if Dakota truly wanted, he could’ve reached out and touched it. He tasted it upon the air—in the tang of sweat that permeated the vehicle, in the occasional smell of rot they passed as they continued to drive, in the humid silence of the world as outside the landscape continued to thaw. The last of the snow was just beginning to melt, and with it the desperation they had all felt while waiting for the last big bout of cold to finally end.

  “We’ll try and sleep in the vehicle the first night,” Rose said after a moment’s worth of hesitation, glancing back at Dakota and the rest of the group in the rearview mirror. “It might be a bit too cramped though, so I’ll try and find us a place where we can pull over and get out if that’s the case.”

  “I’d say we just drive straight through, if we can,” Jamie said.

  “You really think we could just keep driving until this was over?” Steve frowned.

  “Yeah. I don’t see why not.”

  “It’s an awful long trip,” Rose said. “It took me a few weeks. But, then again, I was on my own.”

  “And navigating roads you had no idea how to drive on,” Jamie said, lifting and examining the map. “At least with this we have a trajectory. Our route shouldn’t have changed too drastically.”

  “I don’t think many people are driving nowadays.”

  “Neither do I, which is why I think we’ll be perfectly fine.”

  Dakota adjusted his position in his seat and sighed as the cramps in his legs began to worsen. They’d have to stop eventually, if only to eat or to get out and relieve themselves, but they’d only just started and already he was getting the jitters.

  It’s all right, he thought. Just stay calm.

  How, he wondered, could he stay calm, when all around him the world threatened to lash out from the shadows?

  Closing his eyes, Dakota leaned his head back and spread himself forward as far as he could.

  He couldn’t afford to panic—not now, not while Jamie and the rest of the group needed him with a level head.

  *

  Rose opened her eyes to darkness.

  Having chosen to forego a night’s worth o
f travel, if only because of the lights and how much of a beacon they’d be to anyone or anything within the darkness, they’d parked alongside the road on the outskirts of Lewiston, Utah and bedded down for the night inside the expansive SUV. The smell of sweat permeating the air, the claustrophobia finally starting to get to her, Rose leaned forward in her seat, took a deep breath, then opened the driver’s side door before crawling out.

  Outside—in the cool and open Utah air—Rose breathed and tried her hardest not to falter in the face of what would have normally been great adversity.

  You’re doing great, she thought after a moment’s hesitation, spreading her arms and stretching her limbs. Day one down.

  And who knew how many to go.

  With a sigh, she leaned back against the vehicle and looked out into the darkness—trying, without success, to not dwell on the fact that it was nearly pitch black in a place where city lights should’ve been prevalent. The streetlights were off, the houses were dim, the distant traffic lights remained black as if time had been forgotten and no one would ever be able to pass again.

  “Stop, do not collect two-hundred,” Rose mumbled.

  She fingered the retractable baton at her waist as she heard what sounded like movement, then sighed when she saw that it was only a scraggly alley cat making its way along the side of the road.

  Out here—in the cold blackness of the world—one couldn’t help but be paranoid.

  “You should probably just get back in the vehicle,” she mumbled, then sighed as she thought of how it would smell come time she got back in.

  Oh well.

  She could deal with a bunch of sweaty men if it meant that they would be departing early tomorrow morning.

  *

  Jamie switched places with Rose the following morning as they began to make their way through the winding countryside of northern Utah. Their goal, by the end of the day, was to make it at least halfway through Wyoming, if not into Nebraska before the day was up.

  “At least it’s not too crowded here,” Jamie spoke up after having been silent for most of the morning.

  Given that the windows had been mostly covered by blankets, Dakota could only see what was directly in front of him and what little of the driver’s side window Jamie’s stocky form didn’t block. Here, the roads were clear—likely, Dakota imagined, because there had been planned evacuations shortly after the news that New York had fallen. Either way, it made for smoother traveling, and allowed them to breeze effortlessly through the small town as they made their way toward Wyoming.