The force with which I shoved him was more than I intended to use and must have taken him by surprise. In the next instant, he was pinned against the door frame with my forearm against his throat. The expression of complete shock and fear on his face could not be missed. I wondered if he could see my own look of extreme surprise as I realized what I was doing and quickly released him. Even as I loosened the pressure, the fury was still burning within me.
“What are you thinking?” I hissed. “You’re going to get us all killed. Is that what you want?” He looked down to avoid meeting my eyes which served to infuriate me further. “Do you want Christina to die… to become one of those cannibal bastards? Because when you do stupid things like open doors without checking them, that is what you are bound to do.”
Taylor looked up at me for just a second, but it was enough for me to see that he was crying.
Christina stepped forward to touch his arm and glare at me.
“It’s okay, Taylor. You just need to be careful.”
She tried to make eye contact with him, but the boy avoided her gaze. Finally, she looked toward me and said, “It’s gonna be all right. I know Kevin is sorry for being so mean to you. Right, Kevin?”
The thought that I had not been reprimanded like this since the third grade caused my lips to curl slightly and defused my anger. “Sorry Taylor. I just want you to be more careful.”
He looked up and said, “Okay.”
In contrast to his statement, I saw a hint of fury shining in his eyes which made me doubt that he felt things were okay.
Such considerations were brushed aside as I looked through the doorway at the office beyond. Other than a few chairs knocked over and some papers scattered around the floor, the place looked the same way it always had. It looked the same way besides the fact that I had never seen it so still. On a typical day, the room would be filled with phones ringing, keyboards clacking as reporters pounded out stories to beat a deadline, runners dropping packs of research material on desks, and a variety of other activities. Memories of the people who normally occupied the newspaper office filled my mind and held my attention until I felt a tug on my arm.
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
I looked down to see Christina’s pinched face as she bounced up and down.
I smiled despite the tension squeezing my entire body. “Okay, the restroom is just down the hall. You have to hold it for a minute, okay?”
“I don’t think I can,” she whined.
Taylor stepped to her side and said, “You can, because you’re a big girl, right?”
She looked up at him and replied, “Yes, I’m a big girl!”
I put my finger up to my lips and said, “I know you are, but we need to be quiet right now, okay?”
“Okey-dokey,” she whispered.
I turned back to the office, still feeling the paralysis which comes from being in a once familiar place which has somehow become unfamiliar. The maze of cubicles that used to be filled with busy salespeople hustling for advertising were now empty and still. The phones which seemed to ring constantly were now silent. The three television sets mounted high on the wall in the back corner were now just showing static snow.
I motioned for them to follow and took a few tentative steps forward. There was no other sound besides the humming of fluorescent lights and faint whirring of some machine. I looked back to see Taylor and Christina creeping along behind me.
We all nearly jumped out to the ceiling when a loud voice rang out.
“And we are back on the air,” a smooth, deep voice announced. “Sorry for the dead air. I am told that one of the generators powering the station decided to take a break, but no matter. We are back now and ready to provide listeners with all the latest and greatest details on our ever-changing world.” The laugh that burst from the speakers mounted at the top of the office walls was harsh without an ounce of genuine humor. “I sure wish I could report one of those feel good, warm and fuzzy stories about people helping others or some other crap like that. But we all know none of that matters anymore. Nothing matters beyond the fact that there are these mindless thugs roaming our streets killing anyone they encounter.”
I took a deep breath and continued toward the hallway on the left side of the office. The voice from the speakers continued to ramble as we moved slowly toward the restroom. Christina did her best to remain quiet, but I could sense her impatience.
The door to the restroom was just a few feet away when I looked back at the little girl. She was no longer bouncing up and down with urgency. Instead, Christina was now standing still and quietly whimpering as she gazed down at her feet. My eyes followed hers to the puddle of yellow on the floor.
“It’s okay,” Taylor comforted her quietly. “I happened to me before.”
“Let me check the restroom then you can go in, okay?” I said and smiled, trying to cheer up the little girl.
“Okay,” she answered without
enthusiasm.
I watched her for a moment before turning to Taylor and saying, “I’m just going to take a look inside to make sure it’s empty. Wait here and be careful.”
He nodded in reply, and I pushed the restroom door open very slowly. I paused just before it was fully open and listened. There was the trickling of an open faucet into a sink, the hum of overhead lights, the water running in one of the toilets.
Something touched my arm, and I nearly wet my own pants.
“Hurry, Kevin,” Christina whined, pulling on my arm.
I simply nodded and stepped into the restroom. My shoes squeaked on the tile floor and froze me. I imagined the shells pouring from the trio of toilet stalls on the right wall. Fortunately, the movement was limited to the confines of my mind. The restroom around me remained still.
I walked slowly over and opened each door to the stalls to find that nothing was waiting inside. Nothing was inside other than white toilets. One had some blood on the floor and walls. I gathered a handful of the paper towels stacked near the basin and quickly wiped it down the best I could.
I looked around the restroom once more before opening the door to let Christina inside.
The empty room waiting on the other side of the door stabbed me with a fear that went to my core. It was not a fear which spurs one to action. Rather, it held me and squeezed me until all I could do was murmur “Christina”. Just as panic brushed away the grip of dread, a head covered with blond hair peaked from behind one of the desks.
I rushed forward without giving it a thought. I picked up Christina and hugged her tightly. Taylor watched and grinned a little confused and a little embarrassed.
“I thought I’d lost you guys,” I said.
That was when I saw something moving.
It took a moment to recognize the shell shuffling toward us from the hallway leading to the lunchroom. The pale, twitching, bearded face had once belonged to Vince Perino. He had been one of the best photographers at the newspaper. Somehow, Vince had always managed to get the perfect pictures to capture the essence of any story. Now as I looked at what remained of him, I saw none of the spark that had always burned in his eyes. These dead eyes just seemed to stare off into the distance.
“Vince, what happened to you?” I asked not so much of the shell but of the world in general. “What the hell happened to you?” I asked with growing rage.
The shell seemed surprised by my words and stopped a few yards away. Its mouth moved as though trying to speak, but nothing came out beyond guttural sounds.
“Vince, do you know who I—”
The shell’s sudden movement toward me cut off my words and revealed Taylor standing behind it. He had something in his hand, but I could not tell what it was. Even as I moved back out of the grasp of the shell, I saw Taylor moving closer to it.
“Taylor! Get away!” I yelled.
The boy ignored me and hit Vince’s shell on the back of the head. Rather than spinning around to grab him, the shell simply crumbled to the floor. As i
t fell forward, I saw the scissors sticking out from the back of its head.
When I looked up from the floor, I saw a disgusted-looking Taylor staring down at what he had done.
“Thanks for saving me,” I said, but he did not appear to hear the words. Instead, he continued to stare down at the body.
“Can I go to the bathroom now?” Christina asked quietly.
“Taylor, you okay?”
My question pulled his attention from the body, and he stared at me blankly for a moment before answering, “Yeah, I’m good.”
Nothing in his expression or tone made me believe his words, but I did not know what else to do.
“Okay, Christina, you can go inside,” I said, and the little girl was through the door before I finished the sentence.
Chapter 10
Taylor started back on his contemplation of the body at his feet. I wondered about his thoughts and worried that he would not be able to push the image out of his mind.
“Thanks again. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve been a goner,” I said as I touched his shoulder. I expected him to stiffen and pull away as usual, which is why his response took me by complete surprise.
The teen trembled and moved closer to me. I put my arms around him as he began sobbing.
“We’re not going to get out of here,” Taylor choked out between sobs. “I’m so scared.”
“Me too. You’d be crazy if you weren’t scared,” I answered as I pushed back a little to see his face.
He grinned a little and then a little more. “So does that mean I’m not crazy or that maybe we both are?”
“Let me think about that one,” I replied. “Right now, let’s find out what’s taking Christina so long.”
As we headed inside the restroom, we were immediately aware of the sound of crying.
“Christina, what are you crying about?” Taylor called.
Silence filled the room and then sniffles could be heard.
“I wet my pants like a little baby,” she cried.
“It’s not your fault,” Taylor said, trying to comfort her through the stall door. “You couldn’t get to a bathroom. No big deal”
Silence was the only response.
After a moment, I blurted, “I wet the bed until I was eleven years old.”
Taylor looked at me with curiosity.
The door to the stall opened slowly, and the little girl stepped out. “Really?” Christina giggled.
“Yeah, I used to pee my pants in school too.” I watched her smile and said, “And I have to admit that I almost peed my pants in the last couple of days.”
“Me too,” Taylor offered.
“It’s like a club!” Christina exclaimed.
I snickered and said, “The pants pee club!”
We all laughed for a long time, and it helped make us feel better.
“We can stay here tonight. I have some extra clothes in my desk. Christina, you can wear those while we let yours dry.” I said once the laughter had died away.
Taylor was quick to reply, “I don’t think you two wear the same size.”
Christina giggled and said, “Yeah, Kevin. I don’t think we wear the same size.”
I shook my head and replied, “Okay, so I have to deal with a couple of smartasses here. What I mean is that you should be able to wear the t-shirt until your clothes dry.” I rolled my eyes in exaggerated disgust.
With our spirits surprisingly high, we left the restroom and made our way down the hallway to another large room. My desk appeared to have changed very little in the weeks since I had been here. A layer of dust covered the top of the desk and the stacks of papers piled there.
I saw my notes scribbled on the calendar about a meeting at SFO and an interview with the superintendent of schools regarding an increase in school violence. I had completely forgotten about my plan to speak with Superintendent Wilson about a recent upsurge in fighting in schools from elementary to high school. Of course, at the time I saw no connection between the two appointments. Looking at it now, I easily recognized how the two were possibly related. Not that any of it mattered at this point.
I opened the large drawer and found the bag of clothes I kept there. Looking into the bag at the sweatpants, t-shirt, socks, and sneakers, I was instantly reminded of my first week of reporting at the newspaper. In the course of five days, I had found myself covering stories on the numerous bodies of dead animals being dumped in vacant lots around the city, the effect of a sanitation worker strike, and the lack of toilets for the city’s homeless population. None of which lends itself to staying clean so I had learned to keep a change of clothes in my desk. The alternative was to sit in the office and listen to the snide comments of my coworkers about the smell.
I handed the black Rolling Stones t-shirt to the girl. “This should work as a dress for you.”
She held the t-shirt out at arm’s length as if examining something that was completely strange to her. Finally, the little girl asked, “Who are these guys? They look pretty weird.”
I shook my head with exaggerated disbelief. “They look pretty weird? Those guys are The Rolling Stones, the world’s greatest rock ‘n roll band!”
“Hmmm, they still look pretty weird,” Christina giggled. “But I guess I can wear this.”
Taylor stepped up to say, “Well, at least it should smell better!”
The little girl looked at him and tried to give him a stern look, but she could not maintain her serious expression and was soon smiling.
“Okay,” I said, feeling like a referee, “go change so that we can take a look around and then head back down to the van to eat.”
As if she had no care in the world, Christina skipped into the restroom to change. The sight made it impossible for me not to grin. I looked over to see that it had the same effect on Taylor.
“I think she likes her new shirt,” he said. “I hope you weren’t planning on getting it back.”
“No, I think my Stones shirt is a goner,” I agreed and laughed. “But I guess it’s worth the sacrifice if it keeps her happy.”
After a couple of minutes, the little girl paraded out of the restroom as if she was making her way down a runway in Milan.
“Nice outfit,” Taylor commented.
Christina feigned surprise at the compliment as if she had forgotten she was wearing something different. “Oh, thank you.”
“Now that you’re all freshened up, we can head down to the break room. I think we can find a plastic bag for your clothes and maybe some food.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Taylor said.
We headed down the hallway into the adjoining room, which was pretty much a copy of the room we had just left, and to the door at the back.
It is funny how a place about which you have never felt anything special can suddenly become a powerfully touching site. That is how it was when I looked into the break room. As soon as I stood in the doorway, a wave of memories crashed down on me.
The sound of laughter rang out. The six long tables in the room were suddenly filled with people. I looked around at all of the familiar faces. There was the round, chubby face framed by curly black hair of Brenda, the receptionist. Next to her was the short young man from sales whose name I could never remember, Gary or Jerry or something. Then there was Larry, the self-important assistant editor. My mouth curled into the same reflexive, insincere smile that it had every time I saw Larry. Looking to Larry’s left, I saw the muscular body of Ben Thomas, the editor of the sports page. He was engaged in what looked like a lively discussion with a tall, unhealthily thin man with gray hair. It took a moment for me to place the person. I think his name was Jim. He had been one of the editorial page writers before I had started at the paper, and he had been diagnosed with cancer within months of retiring. Behind them was Sally Green. Sally had been at the newspaper for longer than anyone. While she was still honored at various events for her longevity in the business, her writing skill had noticeably deteriorated. Next to her, I saw my editor
Carole. As usual, she had the harried expression of someone who was late for an appointment and trying to get away.
I stood in the doorway just looking for a moment. Finally, I stepped inside, and a sudden silence filled the room as every head turned to look at me. I gazed around the room at the faces and was crushed by the realization that most or all of these people were now dead. As soon as grim reality pushed its way into my mind, my coworkers began to fade from sight like smoke until they were nothing more than faint memory.
“What’s the matter?” Taylor whispered as he moved to look around me.
“Just remembering something,” I mumbled and stepped into the room.
The people who I had just seen were no longer there, but the memories of numerous meetings and casual lunches were still flooding my mind. I could not clear away the thoughts of chats with Linda and Roger, the college interns, reprimands about missed deadlines from Carole, heated discussions about the direction of the country, and a variety of other meetings that took place within the room.
“It’s stinky in here!” Christina exclaimed as she marched into the room.
“Shhhhh!” Taylor and I hissed at the same time.
She turned and looked at us, and I was sure that she was going to cry again. Instead, Christina simply nodded and said, “Okay.” She saw Taylor’s expression of curiosity and asked, “What?”
Taylor just smiled and said, “Nothing.”
“Let’s see if we can find something to eat in this place,” I said and motioned the others to follow as I walked toward the refrigerator at the back of the room.
There was a bundle of woman’s clothes at the front of the silver and black refrigerator. Taylor seemed to be mesmerized by the pile.
“What’s the matter, Taylor?” Christina asked with genuine concern.
He was silent for a few seconds before bursting out, “Nothing! There’s nothing wrong.” He spun around and walked over to one of the tables where he threw himself into a chair and stared at the floor.
Since I had no desire to get caught up with exploring the source of his teen angst, I focused instead on finding something to eat.
Surviving Amid the Zombies Page 7