by James Evans
Doc slept and coughed throughout the afternoon and evening. Michelle woke him once an hour and tried to get him to drink. Toward midnight Doc’s fever fell below 100°. She gave him another dose of medicine.
Kevin prepped the Jeep until dusk. He filled the gas tank, checked the oil and tire pressure, and generally tried to do something to keep busy. A few zombies wandered near and he eliminated them with the axe. He didn’t want to waste any ammunition and was afraid the noise of gunfire would attract others.
In the early hours of the morning, Doc awoke and asked for something to drink. Michelle took his temperature then gave him some juice along with more meds. She fixed him a cup of hot tea, trying to get more fluids in him. Doc sat up for a few minutes and sipped the tea, but began sweating and soon lay back down, saying he was tired. He was asleep in a matter of minutes.
At five o’clock in the morning, Michelle shook Kevin awake. “Kevin. We have to go. He’s getting worse.”
“Huh? What?!” Kevin said, pulling himself awake.
“Doc’s getting worse. His fever is spiking and he’s still losing fluids. He can’t drink enough to stay hydrated. He’s getting weak. If we don’t get some fluids in him he might not make it. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Kevin scrambled out of bed and quickly dressed. “How bad is it?!”
“It all depends on what happens over the next twenty-four hours. He’s pretty sick and there’s not much I can do for him. If he doesn’t rally, he’ll probably get weaker until his body gives out. If we can get to the hospital by tomorrow morning, he has a good chance. Otherwise, it’s in God’s hands.”
Kevin hurried to the living room. Doc was asleep, breathing shallowly. His face was flushed and heat radiated off his body. His sweats were soaked with perspiration. Michelle jammed some of his clothes into a duffel bag and had Kevin help change him into jeans and a fresh sweatshirt. When they tried to rouse him, he was disoriented and confused.
“Doc, can you walk? We have to get you to the Jeep.” Doc looked at her with glazed eyes. He didn’t seem to understand.
“Kevin, let’s stand him up. We’re going to have to help him.” Kevin rushed over and put one of Doc’s arms around his shoulders while she got the other side. Together, they got him to his feet. He tried to walk but barely had any strength. Getting him up the stairs was difficult, and both Kevin and Michelle were breathing heavily by the time they reached the kitchen. Kevin supported Doc’s weight while she ran to the side door, checked outside, then unbolted the door and threw it open. They practically carried him to the Jeep, but he managed to crawl inside once the back door was open. He collapsed on the back seat and she covered him with a blanket while Kevin secured the house. She tried to get him to drink some water, but he just fell asleep.
Kevin knew zombies were mostly inactive in the dark, but rushed back to the Jeep. There was a weird feeling in the air. He cranked the engine and backed down the driveway, knocking over a zombie. It must have wandered over during the night.
With his headlights on, Kevin could see more zombies, more than he’d seen in a while. It had warmed up considerably and the creatures were more active, even at night. He drove quickly, fearful of attracting the attention of anyone, dead or alive. He rounded the corner of the block, clipping one zombie. Then he raced into the night, reversing his route from two days ago. The eastern sky was beginning to lighten; the sun would rise soon. Kevin was anxious to turn off his headlights.
Michelle rode shotgun, literally. She had Doc’s rifle in her lap, his shotgun on the floor, and Kevin’s revolver in the glove box. Kevin was a better driver than he was a marksman, and he’d had ample experience driving the Jeep when he made the round trip to Frankfort.
They rode in silence for a while. Kevin was considering using the same route he’d used to get home. Other than getting sick and having a flat tire, his return home was much less exciting than his trip to Frankfort, when he’d had to outrun mercenaries and dodge zombies. He knew he wanted to avoid Brohman, but he was also trying to figure out how to get Doc into Frankfort. All bridges leading into the town were barricaded to prevent zombies or enemies from sneaking in and wreaking havoc. Kevin decided to park at Lake Menekaunee, then paddle the canoe to Frankfort. It was the only way to get past the road barricades.
On his way back from Frankfort he’d paddled the Lake Michigan shoreline until he reached the outlet to Lake Menekaunee. He’d beached the canoe on the south shore of the lake, close to the resort. He couldn’t think of any alternative; they’d have to use the same canoe in order to get Doc to the hospital.
“You know, it’s kind of ironic,” he said, breaking the silence. “I went to Frankfort to see if there was a hospital so you could get some medical attention, but it turns out Doc is the one who needs help!”
“Just think if you hadn’t gone,” Michelle added. “We’d have nowhere to take him. I hated for you to leave, but you were right to go.”
They discussed Kevin’s plan to take the canoe from Lake Menekaunee to Frankfort. “But Kevin, what if the weather’s bad? What if it’s raining or Lake Michigan is too choppy?”
“I guess I could go the rest of the way to Frankfort alone and bring back what we need. You and Doc could stay at Lake Menekaunee. The problem is, I don’t know how safe it is. Let’s wait and see what the weather is near Frankfort. We should be there in six hours or so. I used to get there in four hours, back when there were interstates and no zombies or pile-ups. If we run into trouble or the route is blocked, it’ll take a lot longer. I guess I can drive after dark, but it makes me nervous for bad guys and zombies to see our headlights. We’ll head northwest and hope for the best.”
Kevin wound his way through the Michigan back roads. Several times he had to backtrack when he came upon obstacles in the road, like fallen trees, washouts, and bridges choked with cars.
Michelle kept her eye on Doc while Kevin drove. Doc muttered and moaned in his sleep and continued to cough. Michelle tried to get him to drink more water, but Doc would only take a small sip and fall back asleep. Michelle kept wiping his face with a cool damp cloth.
“How’s he doing?” Kevin asked after a few hours.
“His fever is a little better. He’s maintaining. Usually people get worse as the afternoon wears on, but Doc seems to be improving a little. I’m worried that his dehydration may make it difficult for him to keep down the little water he’s drinking.”
When she wasn’t checking on Doc, Michelle looked around at the passing vestiges of civilization as she’d known it. She’d been confined to Kevin’s neighborhood for eight months, other than the trip to the school. She hadn’t seen the world Kevin and Doc witnessed. She felt she was an alien in a world where people were no longer at the top of the food chain. Even though central Michigan was sparsely populated, it was common to see zombies wandering around in the fields and on the roads. It was unnerving how their heads would swivel to watch the Jeep, then slowly begin to follow.
Kevin chose their route carefully, occasionally pulling over to consult the road map. Michelle’s first shock was when they passed over I-96 and she saw what Doc and Kevin had seen: cars choked the lanes, the median, and even the shoulders. A few vehicles showed signs of violence. One SUV was on its side with the windows broken out. Bits of torn cloth were stuck on the broken glass. Several cars were nothing but burned-out hulks. Hundreds of zombies milled about randomly, shuffling along in their unending hunt for human flesh.
Michelle had never seen more than a couple dozen zombies at one time. She reacted viscerally, lurching back from the window. “Oh my God, Kevin! Look at ‘em all! No, don’t slow down!” she begged as Kevin slowed down to give her a better look. “Just go! I don’t like being this close to them!” Kevin drove on.
They passed through the small community of Ashley, but the village had been destroyed by fire. In this new world, a fire would spread and consume everything in its path until it ran out of fuel.
Near one burned-
out house there were several zombies, two of them children. “Ugh, zombie kids. They’re the worst!” Kevin agreed; zombie children were a desecration. “Kevin, stop for minute.” With the Jeep stopped, Michelle stepped out, raised the rifle and aimed at the nearest zombie kid. Its head exploded and it collapsed in a heap of decayed flesh and bone. She aimed and dispatched the second one.
“Michelle! What are you doing?”
“Showing mercy,” she replied with a grim expression.
With a look of alarm on his face, Kevin said, “Your mercy is also a calling card to any zombies or bad guys who can hear the gun! Hey everybody! Here we are! Come get us!”
“Oh, please. It was two quick shots.”
“Look around us, Michelle.” Zombies were now shambling their way from all directions. They heard an answering gunshot in the distance. “That’s either someone saying Hey! I’m alive too! Or it’s a warning that they’re on their way. Quick, get in!” Kevin sped off in more or less the opposite direction from the gunshot.
“What if it was a call for help?”
“Then may God have mercy on them. We can’t risk it. How’s Doc doing?”
She reached back and felt his forehead. “I think his fever’s on the rise.” She checked his temperature “100.2. Up one tenth. I’m sorry about firing the gun. I wasn’t thinking. It’s just the sight of those children…” she absently rubbed her baby bump.
“It’s okay. But we have to be careful. In fact, could you scan the road ahead with the binoculars? If there’s a roadblock or spike strips in the road, it could be the end of us.” She reached back and rustled around until she found the binoculars and started watching the road.
“I don’t know if I can do this. The view is so unsteady I’m probably going to get sick.”
“I’m sorry, hon. Hang in there as long as you can. We’ll trade off when you can’t take any more. It’s probably a good section of road for you to get used to driving anyway.”
“And let you ride shotgun? I don’t think so!” she said, poking him in the ribs. Kevin sighed. He was never going to live down his poor aim.
Kevin could smell sweat pouring off Doc. Michelle reached back and pulled down the blanket to help cool him and wiped the sweat from his face and head. Doc began muttering mostly unintelligible words in his sleep. The only words they could understand were “Listen! No, listen to me!” Then he had a coughing fit and went back to muttering. He grew quiet again. The next time Michelle checked his temperature, she said, “His fever’s worse. It’s 102.5.” With four acetaminophen caplets in her hand, she shook Doc awake. “Doc! Doc! Wake up, Doc! You need to take some medicine. C’mon, Dad, wake up!”
Doc opened his eyes and looked at Michelle with blank and bleary eyes. “Where am I?” he whispered.
“You’re in the car with me and Kevin. We’re taking you to Frankfort. Remember?”
“They need a doctor?” he asked. “I’m too old to enlist.” He coughed some more, his chest rattling.
“Here, Doc, take these pills and drink some Gatorade. We need to hydrate you.” He didn’t seem to understand so she grabbed his hand and placed the caplets in his palm. “Take these pills, Doc.”
He obediently put the pills in his mouth. Michelle held the bottle of Gatorade to his mouth and he took a sip, then lay back down and closed his eyes.
“He’s not drinking much and he’s losing fluid through sweating. Thank God he doesn’t have diarrhea anymore. How much further do we have?”
“We’re about halfway. We’re making good time. I’d say another three hours.”
Michelle continued to scan the road ahead. They had just crossed over into Mecosta County when Michelle said “Um, Kevin, something doesn’t look right. Slow down.” Kevin slowed down to about twenty miles an hour and Michelle was still peering through the binoculars when SPACK! a hole appeared in the windshield. Spider web cracks radiated out with a tinkling sound.
“Hang on!” Kevin shouted. Michelle reached back to hold Doc steady while Kevin slammed on the brakes, sharply turned the wheel to the left and drove into an unharvested, brown cornfield, the stalks of corn bent nearly to the ground. He barreled along, watching for boulders or fences, while Michelle scanned the horizon. After nearly a mile, they intersected another road and turned north, then took the next side road west.
Michelle turned back to check Doc. “Oh my God, Kevin, look!”
Kevin glanced back and at first didn’t see what she meant. Doc was still sleeping, breathing slowly. His breath rattled with every exhale, sounding eerily similar to the rasping sound of a zombie. Then he noticed a hole in the middle of the seat.
“If Doc had been sitting up, he would have been killed!” Michelle gasped. Kevin got goosebumps on his arms and raced along, taking more side roads to ensure he couldn’t easily be followed.
“Even if it hadn’t hit Doc, the bullet could have hit one of the gas cans. What is it about this part of Michigan? This isn’t far from Brohman, where I had my last trouble with bad guys!”
Michelle once again surveyed the road and landscape with the binoculars. Earlier, she had thought Kevin was being a bit paranoid; now she was thankful. If their enemies’ aim had been more true, the trip may have ended disastrously. It still could.
Trees lined both sides of the road as they passed through the Manistee Forest. This part of the trip made Kevin nervous. The trees sheltered them from unfriendly eyes, but also hid those unfriendly eyes from sight. As they passed over the Manistee river, Kevin pointed out the zombies milling about on the banks, and reminded Michelle that zombies avoid water.
Had Doc been awake, he would have again yearned to fish for trout. The river was renowned as one of the best trout fisheries east of the Rockies. The thought never entered Kevin’s mind.
Michelle took Doc’s temperature as they passed a road sign: Brethren Village Limit, childhood home of James Earl Jones. “The Force is strong with this one,” Kevin muttered.
“Kevin, his fever is still getting worse. How much longer?”
“Manistee is behind us, Onekama is ahead of us. I’m going to stay on these back roads until I’m north of Arcadia.”
“Kevin,” she said with exasperation, “I’ve never been here before. I want to know when we’ll arrive, not where we are!”
“Sorry,” Kevin replied. “Frankfort is about an hour from here. But remember, we have to stop at Lake Menekaunee and get the canoe. The weather’s holding. I still think it’s the best option.”
Doc sat up. “Where are we?” he asked hoarsely. “Can you stop the car?”
“Do you need to vomit?” Michelle asked, “The barf bucket’s right here.”
“No, other end. Please stop!” Kevin pulled over and jumped out of the car to help Doc totter to the rear of the Jeep. Doc refused any more help, and Kevin turned away as he pulled down his jeans.
“Does he have anything to clean with?” Michelle asked.
“Shit! I didn’t even think of that!” He reached back to root around in the cargo area and tore a few sheets from a roll of paper towels.
“Here you go, Doc,” Kevin said, handing them to Doc while averting his eyes.” Doc took them without word, and a few seconds later rapped on the hatch. Kevin helped him stand, then he helped pull up Doc’s jeans.
“I hate being a patient,” Doc mumbled, humiliated at his weakness. As Kevin helped him get into the Jeep, he noticed Doc’s legs shaking. Michelle helped him get comfortable while Kevin resumed driving.
Kevin continued north, and when they passed a road sign for Glover’s Lake Road, he recognized it from his earlier detour around Arcadia Lake. He backed up and headed down the road, feeling more comfortable knowing where they were. After five miles, he crossed over US 31, and was momentarily tempted to turn onto it, but decided to keep going until he hit M-22. Having traveled M-22 last week, he knew what to expect.
When Glover’s Lake Road intersected M-22 in Arcadia, he once again looked down the street to the Big Apple, a roadhouse he
used to enjoy. Damn, I wish this was a different kind of trip! he thought longingly. The Big Apple wasn’t a four-star restaurant, but it was familiar and he enjoyed the company of Will, the owner, when he used to visit. It was a different world, he reminded himself as he turned north. Will’s probably dead or a zombie.
Cresting a coastal hill, Michelle gasped. “Is that Lake Michigan?!” Kevin had forgotten she’d never seen the lake. He glanced over; this was the kind of weather he had hoped for on his first trip. An azure blue sky, cotton ball clouds, a breeze blowing in from the lake. As he passed Inspiration Point, the scenic overlook, he longed to stop so she could see the view in all its glory. Not this time, he reminded himself.
In only a week, spring had progressed. They passed glades dotted with trilliums, and the trees were showing more green. In a few miles, Kevin turned onto Lake Menekaunee Drive, this time knowing exactly what was in store. A dead man in a car. A zombie on the raft. More zombies around the lake. He drove past the entrance to the resort and pulled off the road near the dead end. He drove around the cottage called Millhouse and stopped by the canoe.
CHAPTER FIVE
They both scanned the shore and cottages for zombies. There were three on the gravel drive leading to the inn, but they weren’t close enough to be a huge concern. “We’ll have to be quick. If he can’t walk, we’ll carry him. When we get to the canoe, I’ll hold Doc while you pull the canoe into the water a few feet. Once we get him into the canoe I’ll shove off. Grab what we need. We’re only a few miles from Frankfort, so we can get the rest once Doc is better.”
“I’ll grab my med kit, blankets, and weapons. You grab Doc’s duffel bag, our bags, and ammunition.”
“Got it. I’ll save the liquor for later. Let’s load the canoe, then come back for Doc. Ready? Let’s do it!”
They jumped out of the Jeep, grabbed their supplies and threw them in the canoe. Michelle spread the blanket on the bottom of the canoe then dragged it into the lake as Kevin opened the door and shook Doc.