Aftermath (Book 2): Chicago Calling

by Duncan McArdle

  “Oh”, Michelle said quietly, still staring at the photo.

  “This guy lost his mind Michelle”, John started, turning back to face his wife. “They all barricaded themselves in, and then they must have started turning, so he locked himself away in a store room”, John began to explain. “He just sat there, for weeks, maybe even months, listening to the sound of his dead wife walking round the room with all their dead friends. He just gave up, and I don’t blame him one bit”, he said, before again looking away from Michelle, who was staring at his now turned head.

  Michelle simply smiled, taking John’s hand in hers, before leaning forwards and resting her head against the chest of the man she loved. “You’re not going to lose me John”, she said calmly, “I promise”.

  In the moments that followed, both John and Michelle descended into a rare kind of tranquillity, their gaze locked on to the incredible sights outside of the car-park. Light pollution had for years decimated any chance of a decent sky at this time of night, but now that the world had come to a stop, millions of stars were visible once more, each of them perfectly reflected in the still water in front. One would have been forgiven for almost forgetting the current state of the world with a view like this to look at.

  “We’re gonna head a little closer to Chicago next run, see if we can’t scope it out a little”, John eventually continued.

  Immediately Michelle sat up, releasing her grasp of John’s hand and changing her tone significantly.

  “John”, she began, “I-“.

  “I know it’s more dangerous, but I have to see it, I have to know it isn’t an easier way of getting to her”, John reasoned.

  “John, I’ve seen it”, Michelle started. “We all saw it on the way here. There’s walls, big ones, and then there’s these huge groups of those dead… things, thousands of them just piled up, waiting for you to try and get through”.

  “A lot of them will have moved on by now, or been killed or… or run out of energy”, John said, “And winter’s coming too, we don’t know what the cold might do to them”, John tried again to reason with his wife.

  Michelle knew only too well how stubborn her husband was, it was something she’d come to terms with long ago, but that never made it any easier in situations like these. Slowly she climbed off of the ledge and turned to face John, looking him dead in the eyes to make sure he heard the next few words.

  “I can’t lose you again”, she said, before planting one final kiss on his cheek, and then turning to walk away.

  “You won’t”, John said after her.

  * * *

  The remainder of the night passed without incident, allowing John to enjoy a night of peace, most of which was spent staring up at the stars, trying in vain to forget some of the day’s various incidents. There was something almost therapeutic about being able to do nothing for hours on end, especially in the midst of a world that normally required almost constant care, attention, and alertness. In typical fashion however, the night sky passed by all too quickly, and soon enough the sun began to rise, meaning John was relieved of his duty.

  Between rushed meals and the carrying out of various minor tasks around camp, John managed to squeeze in as much rest and recuperation as was possible during the following day. This varied from catching quick naps here and there, to hiding away in his tent for a couple of hours, but never really afforded him any truly deep sleep thanks to the busy nature of a building with so many survivors moving around.

  It wasn’t long however until the night came back around once more, marking John’s turn to take watch for a second night. It was a responsibility he loathed having to carry out, and yet one he was even more reluctant to delegate away, for fear of it not being done to the sort of high standards he considered himself able to meet. That particular night however he found himself sitting on the opposite end of the roof to Harvey, who was also on duty, himself doing so voluntarily. As of yet, John and Harvey had yet to see eye to eye on anything of much substance, and so had chosen instead to stay out of each other’s way, a plan that had so far been working well.

  This all changed however at around 3AM that morning. John was staring absent minded along the south section of the main road and off towards Chicago, when he suddenly heard the faint sound of a hand patting a wall, sounding out three times. Quickly John cast his gaze further inwards to the other end of the rooftop where he saw Harvey, dressed almost completely in black and armed with his beloved sniper rifle, his fist outstretched and a thumb clearly visible, pointing downwards.

  Immediately John dropped down from the ledge and span round, peering over the wall to see what it was that had caused the alert. Sure enough, he saw a single figure wandering lazily down the opposite sidewalk, its head cocked at an almost ninety-degree angle and its clothes ripped and torn as if it had been tossed through a human shredder.

  John stood for a while watching it move, analysing the way in which it struggled to find good footing with every step, and the seemingly structured way it was following the thin stretch of concrete along the far side of the road. John had seen plenty of cases where the dead exercised some form of past consciousness, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen one so adamant not to jaywalk.

  After a few minutes, the creature eventually reached a point in the road where it was virtually dead opposite the middle of the car park, and ground to a halt. John could almost feel Harvey firming his grip on his rifle, as John too did the same, each of them ready to take the shot if the being suddenly presented even the slightest smidgen of danger. But before long, it simply carried on walking as if nothing had ever happened, and was soon completely out of view.

  This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, plenty of the undead roamed continuously day and night, as if searching for something they knew was just up ahead. There had even been talk of the same faces being spotted on more than one occasion, but it was a phenomenon John was yet to experience. In any case, luckily for this particular member of the undead, the policy in place at the car-park was clear on these matters; killing was only done in defence, unless a threat was definitely at hand. Nobody wanted bodies piled up outside in view of the residents, waiting for the guard’s to risk their own lives going out to take care of them.

  “Evening”, came a voice to John’s side, startling him and sending his eyes firing to the right.

  There stood Harvey, known only by his first name and his famously rough attitude, and the fact he was the one person around that was as stubborn as John.

  “You always sneak up on people like that?”, John asked.

  “When I can”, Harvey replied, smirking.

  “What do you want?”, John questioned, clearly less than impressed at having to talk to the man.

  “I heard you’re heading south on tomorrow’s run”, Harvey started, “Chicago way”.

  “Lemme’ guess, you wanna try and stop me too?”, John asked.

  Harvey chuckled to himself briefly, before once more opening his mouth. “I’d like to come”, he said, much to John’s surprise.

  “What?”, John asked, looking Harvey up and down, looking for any sign as to why the man had such a strange change in attitude towards something John wanted.

  “I’ve been cooked up in this hell-hole long enough, and much as I don’t particularly like you, I figure you’re probably my best chance of coming back alive”, Harvey explained.

  “I’ll take that as a back-handed compliment”, John said, still stunned slightly.

  “Take it however you want”, Harvey replied, “I’ll see you at sun-up”.

  Chapter 7: Seeing is believing

  The F150 had become the main vehicle for the camp since its arrival, thanks mostly to it holding the biggest engine, as well as having the best record when it came to reliability. It also had the benefit of having five seats, and a huge amount of storage space in the rear, making it perfect for taking out on scavenging runs. John had grown fond of the vehicle, but as he had never actually owned it himself, he saw no i
ssue with sharing its usage.

  “Hurry it up would you”, Sonja called out from the Ford’s driver side window, as she sat idling next to the car-park entrance.

  “Yeah alright”, John replied as he climbed into the rear of the cabin, almost exactly as Harvey too entered the truck, himself opting for the front passenger seat.

  “Everybody ready?”, Sonja asked impatiently before looking to each passenger.

  Both Harvey and Andrew gave a quick nod, shortly before Lester gave them the thumbs up to leave.

  “Chicago here we come”, Sonja said with a deep breath, and then began moving the Ford out of the building.

  Sonja had laid out the plan ahead of time, and John had agreed – though not without voicing some objections – to every part. They would head for Chicago along the I94, an interstate that took them almost the entire way from Milwaukee to Chicago, and required only minimal deviations to get to their destination. Sonja had insisted that once in sight of the city, they would stop, find somewhere to scavenge, and then return. All of this however went out of the window if either a threat presented itself, or they saw something better along the way. John of course was hoping that neither such circumstance would materialise.

  “I feel like I should know something more about you if we’re gonna be headed all this way together”, John said to Harvey, who refused even to recognise that he’d been addressed.

  “Yeah”, Sonja laughed, “Good luck getting anything out of him. He’s the definition of an antisocial douchebag, he’s been like this for as long as we’ve known him”.

  Harvey didn’t even flinch at the insult, giving credence to Sonja’s words.

  “C’mon Harvey, I don’t much like travelling with unknowns”, John tried again, staring into the back of the man’s head, waiting patiently for the slightest piece of information.

  Eventually, a sigh came tumbling out from the figure in front, followed by a few short words.

  “I was a lawyer”, he began, much to Sonja’s surprise, “A good one, in New York”.

  Himself relatively startled, John fumbled around thinking of a follow up question before eventually figuring out what to ask.

  “How’d you end up here then?”, he said calmly.

  Once again Harvey simply sat there, without the slightest hint that he had any intention of replying.

  “Harvey?”, John asked again.

  “John”, Sonja interrupted. “That right there is the most he’s told anybody in weeks, if I were you, I’d be happy with what you’ve got”, she said, still surprised Harvey had even spoken.

  Feeling an odd mix of both happiness and defeat, John slumped back into his chair. “It’s gonna be a long drive”, he said, to which Sonja subtly nodded.

  * * *

  During the journey ahead, the group passed by housing complex after housing complex, various factories and warehouses that littered the roadside, and even Milwaukee’s own General Mitchell International Airport, all of which appeared to be absolutely deserted. In fact, on their way to the supposedly overrun outskirts of Chicago, John saw less of the undead than he had done in weeks, causing him to question the general consensus on just how dangerous heading there by land would really be.

  Throughout their drive, the trio had stopped on numerous occasions, keen to inspect just about every possible looting spot they laid eyes on, though so far – much to John’s relief – none of these stops had resulted in any scavenging taking place. After some time hurtling along the relatively empty Chicago-bound side of the I94, the Ford finally arrived at its merging point with the I90, a marker that John knew meant they were almost as close as Sonja was willing to go.

  “Might wanna look ahead John”, came Sonja’s voice just a few moments after the merger.

  With that, John perked up instantly. Clambering frantically over to the middle of the rear seats, he directed his gaze out front, hoping to see something even slightly different to the constant drivel of passing trees and baron landscapes that had plagued their journey thus far.

  Immediately in his eye line was an overhead sign, its metallic green surface glaring back at him courtesy of what little sun broke free of the clouds above, and its message detailing the turn off for a road John couldn’t care less about. But quickly the structure moved out of sight and to the vehicle’s rear, revealing instead the once glorious skyline of Chicago Illinois, the final destination of John’s long and tiresome journey.

  “I’m gonna pull up just here”, Sonja said as she looked in her rear view mirror to see John gazing longingly into the distance.

  “Okay”, he replied, wishing to get closer but knowing he was already getting his fair share of favours.

  Sonja coasted the truck towards the next exit, bringing it to a halt shortly before it amongst a series of vehicles parked on the side of the road.

  Thanks to the dirtied state of the Ford – mostly leftover from when John and Andrew had first found it under an overpass – it blended in relatively well with the other vehicles, and for the briefest of moments brought back memories of sitting in the midst of standstill traffic.

  “You wanna take a look?”, Sonja asked as she turned off the engine.

  John said nothing, continuing instead to stare out front.

  “In my bag”, Sonja said in a second attempt to get John’s attention, “Binoculars, you’re welcome to ‘em”, she added.

  Breaking his concentration briefly, John realised what had been said and happily climbed out of the cabin’s rear, before jumping into the truck-bed behind and quickly rummaging through Sonja’s things till he had located the binoculars.

  Back in the driver’s seat, Sonja sat there watching him in the rear-view mirror, chuckling.

  “He’s like a damn kid on Christmas”, she said happily, looking to Harvey as she did, himself remaining stone-faced and uninterested. “Oh for God sake, would you lighten up?”.

  Back in the rear, John now stood up tall, binoculars raised, and began inspecting the distant cityscape that sat just a twenty minute drive away. For the most part, the concrete jungle seemed ruined, somehow still smoking from whatever fiery ill fate had befallen it months earlier, bringing images of the leftover remnant of World War 2 bombing sites to mind. It was impossible to see any walls or smaller structures from this distance that might resemble those talked of on the radio broadcasts, but John was confident they were there. What he was less confident of however, was just how deadly a land approach would be, as he looked through the magnified lenses and saw little to no activity up ahead, save for some increased pile-ups further along the road.

  Obeying his usual sense of self-preservation, John then switched to look to the rear, in an attempt both to assess their safety and to see just how far they had travelled. By the looks of things, they’d covered a significant distance, Milwaukee now a well-covered blip in the distance, and even the interstate they had just been driving along seeming to snake away into the landscape. Looking more to the left however, John could see the I90 – with which they had recently merged – much more clearly. Its strangely uncongested path made for an interesting sight, mostly due to a particularly visible vehicle; a black Cadillac Escalade. In fact, much to John’s surprise, it appeared to be moving.

  “Seriously Harvey, would it kill you to show some kind of emotion, or even just an opinion, anything?”, came Sonja’s voice from back inside the cabin. “I mean it’s like talking to a damn wall, do you really thi-“.

  “PEOPLE!”, came John’s voice from the bed of the truck, yelling a word that had become synonymous with the utmost amount of danger now, despite it having meant next to nothing of interest before.

  Immediately Harvey leant out of the window and looked to the rear, identifying as he did what John was now lowering his binoculars away from.

  “Black Escalade, don’t know how many, but they’re coming towards us fast”, John said, updating his companions.

  “Shit”, came Sonja’s panicked voice.

  “Get down, play dead
”, John ordered, to which both Sonja and Harvey appeared to obey without question, before he himself lay down on his back just as low as he could manage.

  Those next few moments were some of the tensest in John’s life. Laying there in the bed of the truck, he hastily began covering himself over with every bag and every piece of clothing he could find, until he himself was just barely able to see out. Knowing he had to keep abreast of current events however, John began poking out a series of strategically placed holes, most of which were done to allow him to keep an eye on the left-hand side of the truck, albeit just barely.

  In the cabin meanwhile, both Sonja and Harvey were sitting with their heads lulled to one side, each of them just trying to fit in with the rest of the dead found all around them. The tactic of hiding amongst the dead was proven to be useless against fellow biters – most of them able to sniff out the living or even hear the faint sound of them breathing – but right there and then, they had to hope it might at least work against fellow survivors.

  Before long, the hum of the Cadillac’s engine came into earshot and John watched nervously as it appeared into view on the left, travelling at decent speed but suddenly slowing down right after it had passed by their grouping of vehicles. His heart sank as he watched it come to a complete stop just ahead, and he prepared himself for what might be about to happen, just as its windows began to roll down.

  “Right there”, came a voice over the sound of some bass-heavy rap music blaring away from the innards of the vehicle, which was promptly and mercifully shut off.

  “Where?”, came another voice, “You goin’ crazy again?”.

  “Man I’m tellin’ you, right there, the damn truck, I saw it”, came the first voice again.

  “Shit you crazy, I ain’t see nothin’”, came a third voice, from another individual who clearly doubted the first.

  “Well hold up here, I’ma check it”, said the first voice, after which John saw the rear right door swing open.