by Zuko, Joseph
Next month she was finally going under the knife to get her muscles stretched or ligaments tightened or whatever they were going to do to fix her. The door was locked, of course. It was locked the last time she checked it and the time before that. Her anxiety had been building all afternoon. She could feel her heart beating in her chest. It reminded her to take her blood pressure medication.
She was in her early sixties and falling apart. She had watched her mother go through the same thing twenty years ago. Penny limped back into the kitchen, got her pills and a cold glass of water. She tossed the medicine into the back of her throat and chugged the water.
The sound of an explosion blasted through her neighborhood. The noise scared her so badly she dropped her drink mid-sip. It shattered on the hardwood floor. Bits of glass spread from the dishwasher to the dining table in the next room.
“Shit,” she cursed as she leaned over her countertop and moved in closer to the kitchen window to get a better look outside. A mushroom cloud loomed in the distance. Judging by the size of the cloud and its location from her house, Penny suspected that her favorite gas station was no longer open for business.
Damn, they had the best cheap coffee.
A full fifty cents cheaper than any other station in this zip code. A car sped down her street. It was streaked in red. It took her brain three beats to calculate what was covering the vehicle.
Blood.
She hated the sight of it. Blood always made her sick to her stomach. The back of her throat had begun to fill with saliva. After seeing that much blood she thought she was going to vomit for sure. It had to do with the fact that it was pumping through your organs and without it you were dead meat. Seeing it on the outside of the body where it does not belong made her think about death.
Even just thinking about thinking about it made her sick. Penny high stepped over the glass to the broom that rested against the corner wall of the kitchen. She worked at sliding the shards into a small pile. Busy work always helped calm her nerves. As she pushed the pile of glass into the dustpan then she emptied the dustpan into a half full garbage can under the sink. She thought about emptying the dishwasher. More busy work to keep her mind off nagging thoughts.
Where were her children and grandbabies?
On the quick drive from her office back to her home she had seen many horrific acts of violence. She had been born and raised in the South and every Sunday went to church with her family. She had listened to preachers talk about hell and damnation. Some of the church leaders would go on at great length about the types of tortures a sinner might encounter by the hand of the devil. When she was twelve years old the church got a new preacher. Preacher Jenson, he loved to go on and on about the devil tearing you apart, putting you back together just to tear you apart the next day. What Penny saw happening to her fellow humans on the ride home, the biting and tearing of their flesh, was spot on with Preacher Jenson’s idea of hell.
Penny opened the Whirlpool dishwasher and rolled out the top rack. The clanking sound of the porcelain bowls banging together as she stacked them on the shelf was normally as soothing as a rainforest soundscape to her.
It wasn’t working this time. No matter how empty the dishwasher and sink were she couldn’t turn off her brain. She was going nuts. Forks and knives rattled in her shaking hands as she dropped them into their proper slots. This was how the start of a nervous breakdown would begin. The next step was mumbling to herself all of the different scenarios that could happen to her children. Cursing out loud was the next step to the breakdown.
“What the hell is going on?”
“I can’t believe this shit.”
“It’s a goddamn mess.”
“This world is so fucked up!”
Throwing f-bombs around meant she was at the tipping point and she needed to go lay down in her recliner and start her deep breathing exercises. Otherwise she might pass out. Penny left the kitchen with the Whirlpool half full. As she exited the room she turned on the teapot she got herself for Christmas that year. A strong cup of tea would help.
She worked her aching body down onto the soft recliner, put up her feet, closed her eyes and concentrated on relaxing.
Everything is fine.
Traffic is bad and holding them up.
They will be here any second.
Everything will be okay.
Don’t worry about not having a way to contact them.
Don’t think about them getting killed or torn apart by those monsters.
Don’t think about your grandbabies being scared and alone.
Or dead!
“Damn it!” she cursed at her brain. She started off so good and then tripped right back into the negative thoughts. Every minute that passed drove her a little crazier. She knew how long it took to get from her place to Karen’s and back.
They should be here by now.
She needed to try again to relax. This time she should focus on the warmth of Valerie and Robin’s hugs. The little extra slobber that came with every kiss from their sweet puckered lips. She had to focus on the heart-warming sound of her daughter’s laugh. The bass of Troy’s booming voice as he said “Hello Mama.” All of those thoughts calmed her hyperactive heart.
All of the anxiety Penny was trying to squash in her mind and heart felt like the same level of nervousness she had twenty years ago on the first night without her husband. She was all alone, just her and the children. The divorce was about to be final and Karen and Troy’s father had taken a new job on the other side of the United States. It was up to her now to find a job and finish raising two teenagers. The responsibility was crushing. The fear kept her up late most nights. But the first night alone was the worst.
At three in the morning she couldn’t take it anymore. Penny climbed out of her bed and snuck into her thirteen year old daughter’s room. Karen woke up enough to make space for Penny in the bed.
Young Karen whispered to her Mama, “I love you and don’t worry we’ll be okay.”
It was exactly what the nervous Mama needed to hear.
Penny had relaxed so deeply on her recliner that she finally fell asleep. The whistling sound of her teapot woke her. She fought her way out of the recliner and back into the kitchen. She turned off the pot and the loud whistling came to a stop. Penny picked up a box of teabags and worked one out of its package. She placed the bag into her favorite cup and poured the hot water over it. She needed to let it steep for a few minutes.
Something moved outside in her backyard. It put her on a razors edge. Something moved again past her back sliding glass door. It was a goddamn chicken.
I need to put those little buggers up or they might attract one of those sick people.
Maybe I should wait for Troy or Karen to do it?
Troy had told her to stay inside. Penny walked slowly over to her sliding glass door. Half a dozen feathered friends pecked at the ground outside their cage. She rubbed at her temples and then popped her knuckles. It was a routine she would do every time she was planning something. A little rub and pop before making a decision.
She looked around the backyard and everything was totally normal. Two chickens started to fight over the same worm and they made a lot of noise. That sealed it. She had to put the ladies up for the day. The heavy glass door was hard to get moving on the dirty track. She had to use both arms to get it going and both to get it shut.
She had left the door open once while she was watering her plants and two of the chickens let themselves right into her house. Penny thought for sure they were going to shit everywhere and she had a hell of time wrangling them up and getting the two buggers back out. From that day on no matter how bad her shoulder hurt she made sure she shut the door after her.
She called to them quietly, “Here chick, chick, chicky. Here chick, chick, chicky.” Penny snatched up one of the gals from the ground. It let out a loud “Bock!” She entered the cage area of the coop and helped the chicken back into its home. Troy and Jim had helped her b
uild the coop and cage a couple years back. They had worked on it in the hot summer sun for a full week. The coop area that the gals slept in was four by six feet wide and the cage was ten by twenty feet. The cage area where she was standing had chicken wire running from the ground to the slanted roof that stood six and a half feet high. The wood in the cage area was stained a dark brown and the coop was bright red. The structure dominated the backyard.
Penny plucked four more chickens from the ground and dropped them off in their home. She heard a loud scream coming from somewhere in her neighborhood. It sounded like a man calling for help. He was crying for someone to save him.
Penny moved quickly across her backyard. At five foot two she was way shorter than the fence that surrounded her yard and it gave her a feeling of invisibility. She had been favoring her sore ankle and her adjusted walk was putting a cramp in her other calf. Every step was so painful she looked crippled as she fought her way over the uneven ground of the backyard towards the last chicken. Her little egg-producing friend was hiding behind a shrub and Penny had to give it a little kick to get it out of its hiding spot.
She carried the last lady back into the coop and dropped her off with her sisters. Penny slid the door shut to the coop, locking them in for the rest of the day. Something was on the other side of her fence. She could hear the sound of footsteps crushing her flowers and kicking the bark dust. Penny was still inside the cage of the coop and thirty feet from her back door.
She held her breath and listened.
The steps moved closer to the gate. A set of fingers curled up over the top of the fence. Penny’s heart came to a full stop. Its head inched above the edge of the fence. Black eyes sat hollow in its skull. Fresh blood encircled its unshaved mouth. It was missing teeth. It was the creepy satellite salesman that tried to scare the shit out of Karen earlier that day. Its black eyes spotted Penny inside the chicken cage. It pulled itself up and over the fence in one fast move and crash-landed face first in the dirt.
Penny raced for the coop’s open gate, but the cramp in her calf and the sore ankle slowed her. It crawled along the ground on all fours until it reached the chicken wire cage and pulled itself up off the ground. Penny knew she wouldn’t make it to the house so she pulled the chicken coop’s gate closed a second before the beast got there. Its body smashed into the fence and it shook the whole cage.
“Someone! Help!” Penny sounded like all of the other poor souls calling for help in her neighborhood. No one came to their rescue.
Would anyone save her?
She couldn’t lock the gate from her side. The latch was hooked to the outside post. Penny could only pull it closed, but it left her fingers exposed through small holes in the chicken wire. The infected tossed its body over and over into the cage door. It noticed her pink digits poking through the fence. Penny pulled her hand from the fence as its teeth grinded on the thin metal wire. Its mouth played a horrible game of hide and go seek with each of her hands. It would bite at her and she would pull her hand back a split second before its disgusting mouth collided with the gate.
After only a few chops and near misses it dug its fingers in between the fence wall and the gates opening. It pulled and yanked on the fence with all of its might. The wire dug deep into Penny’s skin. Her grip was about to give.
“Go away!” she begged. This was her first up close look at an infected human. The open wound on its neck made her sick. The idea of it touching her body sent her gag reflex into overdrive. She wanted to puke, cry and shit her pants all at the same time. Tears formed and clouded her sight. Her mind raced. She looked behind her and a metal bucket, half-filled with chicken feed, sat on the ground. It was the closest thing to a weapon within arms reach.
The thing yanked the gate from her grip. As she stepped backwards, Penny reached down and picked up the metal bucket and swung it. The thing stepped into the coop’s cage, its arms reached out for Penny’s soft skin. She backhanded the bucket at its snapping jaw. The metal rim at the bottom of the bucket caught the back of its jaw and spun it like a top. The chicken feed exploded into the air. It covered her and the monster with white powder and dried corn.
She didn’t K.O. the bastard, only knocked it off balance. It fell to the dirt and she sprinted as fast as her old legs could carry her out of the cage. Penny grabbed the door and slammed it shut. There was no real locking mechanism for the coop. A tiny hook dangled from the two by four that made up the frame of the gate. She dropped the hook into the eyebolt.
The infected got to its feet and threw itself at the locked door. The tiny hook held. The infected bounced off the wire barrier. Penny leaped back. Terrified by its ferocity. That hook wouldn’t hold for long.
An outdoor table with umbrella and matching chairs sat on a concrete pad between the coop and the house. This was its third year sitting out in her backyard. Green algae had formed on all of the edges of the fabric and glass. It needed a serious power washing. Penny’s heel caught the lip of the concrete and she fell straight back, crashing into a chair. Her elbow slammed into the glass tabletop. As the table tipped over the glass surface shattered under her weight. The cheap metal folded around her body. The umbrella fell on top of her. Chunks of glass penetrated her skin.
Blood spilled.
The concrete gave no comfort as her knees and shoulder grinded across the porous surface. Every joint in her body screamed in pain, her tendons stretched and ligaments popped.
The infected bounced once more off the metal chicken wire. Penny rolled out from under the umbrella and pushed the chair off of her. A rusty hunk of metal from the bottom of the table protruded out of Penny’s stomach.
“Karen!” she moaned. Blood pooled under her. The infected clawed at the gate.
Chapter 18
Karen woke to the sound of her children. They were playing. Her eyes were still closed. The lids felt impossibly heavy. She had never blacked out before. Now she knew why they called it that. It was like she fell into a bottomless pit. Darkness. No dreams. No feelings of any kind. Her mind felt shrouded in black. She woke up covered in sweat and thirsty as hell. Her wrist had gone from the unbearable jackhammer of pain to a more reasonable sledgehammer. She muscled through and opened her eyes. The first thing she checked was the first thing she checked every morning when she woke up.
Her children.
Valerie and Robin were crammed into one chair together. Valerie thumbed through a pamphlet on crime like it was a children’s book. She didn’t have the skills to read it so she made up a story and told it to her little sister. It was a story about a princess being taken to jail by a prince, but the guard dog saved her.
They were adorable.
Karen raised her wrist to investigate the damage done. Troy had found a splint and wrapped it tight with an Ace bandage. All five fingers moved. It was a struggle to get her hand to close fully. Her grip was shit now, but at least she could move her arm without her stomach turning. Botchy was out of her bag and drinking water out of a little dish on the floor. Troy sat across from her. His hands folded in his lap. A forced smile formed on his face.
“How long?” Karen’s voice was raspy.
“Half hour.” Troy answered.
“We need to get going.”
“Yeah…How? We don’t have a car.” Troy’s knee nervously bounced up and down.
Karen sat up, grabbed her water and took a drink from the coffee cup, “Did you ask the Sarge if we could commandeer one of their cruisers?”
“No, Sergeant Poole hasn’t been much of a talker. Maybe if you asked he would be more willing to help.” Troy stood up and took the empty mug from his sister and headed back to the locker room.
“Hello girls,” Karen said as she waved at her children.
“Mama.” Valerie squealed and put down her makeshift book.
“Mama.” Robin copied. They crawled out of their chair and raced over to their Mama.
Karen scooped them both up and planted kisses on the top of their heads.
“Do you feel better now that Uncle Troy got you some medicine?” Valerie reached out and put her skinny arms around her Mama’s neck for a long hug.
“Yes baby, Uncle Troy got me all fixed up. It still hurts, but I’ll be okay.” Karen was not sure that her wrist would ever be the same, but she did not need to worry her kids with it. Troy entered with a fresh glass. Karen took it and gulped down the fresh water.
“How does it feel?” Troy pointed at her hand.
“It’s f-,” she mouthed the rest of the curse word over her two babies’ heads, “But it is much better. Thank you.”
“I felt it pop back into position and it seemed to have a normal range of motion. Book said this kind of thing could take months to fully heal. So try and take it easy…I’m worried about Mama. I didn’t want to be gone this long.” Troy’s head dropped.
Karen struggled with what to say next. “The fence around her place will help keep it safe. That’s why we have to get there.” Karen fished her phone from her pocket and swiped it on. No calls.
Where the hell was Jim?
A strong feeling of urgency struck her. She had to get them moving again, but how? They needed to find a ride. They also needed a better way to carry the girls. She gave the girls one more squeeze and then pushed them down out of her lap.
“Let’s take a look around and see if there is anything that could help us get home.” Karen stood up and put the girls back into their chair. “Read to your sister.”
“Okay.” Valerie opened up another pamphlet and went to work weaving an epic tale.
Karen began to search all of the cabinets and drawers in this room.
Troy joined her, “What are we looking for exactly?”
“Anything that you think could help.” After searching the office Karen moved to the locker room. Inside that room she found a supply closet. It had stacks of towels and fresh linens for the beds in the cells. A plan started to take shape. After ten minutes of heavy reconnaissance Karen had compiled a stack of supplies she thought could help.