Hector chuckled. “Probably. But we’ll worry about that later.”
The three moved in to attack. Ehsan inhaled once more and swung at the zombie now missing its arm. With only one handless arm to defend itself, Ehsan was able to hit its neck. It hit the ground. Hector distracted the one next to it with light jabs. It grabbed Hectors hand, but Fatima snuck up and stabbed it in the back of the head. Ehsan used his ax to swat away the remaining three before they could help their friends.
Hector stepped in to attack the nearest of the three. It raised its hands. He punched it in the stomach. It went for his arm, as Hector no longer had the energy to quickly retract his hand after a punch. Ehsan thrust his ax into its forearm before it could grab Hector. Fatima distracted the other two with her machete while Hector punched the zombie in front of him in the eye. It stumbled backward. Ehsan chopped its skull down the middle. Hector snuck around one of the two zombies Fatima distracted and punched its neck. It fell down, taken completely by surprise. Fatima jumped on it to finish it off while Ehsan swung at the last one. Hector punched it in the ribs. Ehsan delivered the finishing blow. Fatima stood up, having finished off hers.
They stepped toward the trenchcoat zombie.
“Well done.” Something about its serious tone, entirely devoid of worry, sent chills down his spine.
“You’re not upset we took them out?” Hector panted.
“If it means finding another like me, I would trade a thousand recruits. There will always be more.”
“You should worry about yourself,” Fatima shot back. She stepped forward with her machete.
“Should I?” It mirrored her stance.
Hector and Ehsan also stepped forward. Ehsan charged in and swung as Fatima stepped to its right. It stepped slightly out of the way of Ehsan’s swing, just enough for it to graze past his coat, while it slashed at Fatima. Fatima blocked it while Hector tried to attack from behind. It thrust its sabre directly behind it, falling short of Hector’s stomach only by inches. It spun around with its weapon held out, forcing all three of them to retreat.
“What the hell is this thing?” Hector gasped.
It charged for Fatima. Fatima responded with a defensive thrust, but it side-stepped the attack. Ehsan rushed over to help Fatima. It sprang toward Ehsan and slashed at him. Ehsan blocked with the hilt of the ax, but it kneed him in the stomach. Ehsan doubled over in pain. He expected a follow-up attack, but he heard Hector’s arms flail through the air to protect him.
Ehsan straightened back up just in time to see it stab Hector through the leg. Hector fell to the ground clutching the wound.
“Shit!”
The trenchcoat zombie advanced toward Hector, but Ehsan and Fatima blocked its path.
“You look like a pack of rabid dogs,” it commented. “Just be rational and accept your fate. Perhaps doing so will increase the chances of keeping your physical and mental abilities after your transformations.”
“Or perhaps you’re just full of shit,” Ehsan countered.
Ehsan looked at his sister. They exchanged glances. They had to try something new. He went in to attack while Fatima went around. The trenchcoat zombie side-stepped while turning its attention to Fatima. Ehsan push-kicked it. It fell backwards, entirely unprepared for the attack. Ehsan threw his ax with all his might, falling forward as he did so. The zombie caught itself with its sabre to remain on its feet. It barely managed to side-step the incoming ax. Fatima struck as soon as the ax sailed past. Her blade sunk into its upper arm. It dropped its weapon.
Its face became livid. It charged wildly toward Fatima. Ehsan intercepted it and knocked it to the ground with his shoulder.
It stared at Ehsan and Fatima as they approached, Fatima’s machete raised. It then sighed and dropped its gaze, which was a mixture of rage, confusion, and resignation, to the ground.
“You’re done,” Ehsan declared.
“Is this what it means to be alive?” it asked through gritted teeth. “To wander without direction or destination? To die as alone as you were when you entered this world, no matter how intelligent or strong you are?”
“You are not nearly as smart as you think you are.” Fatima thrust her weapon right through its jaw. It fell to the ground. She stabbed it once more through the back of the head.
They had finally done it.
Sarah, Ken, and Hector trudged back to the house Emma, Julia, and the kids hid in while Ehsan, Fatima, Deon, and Cecilia decided to lure the remainder of the sprinters into one of the nearby houses. Deon lured the sprinters in while Cecilia waited behind the frontdoor to close it after all of them entered. Ehsan and Fatima waited by the backdoor, slamming it shut as soon as Deon made his way through. Deon hunched over and panted after clearing the doorway as they heard the sprinters run into the door behind them.
“Nice,” Ehsan commented. Cecilia came around from the front of the house to join them.
“Now that we have them contained,” Fatima began, looked to Cecilia, “how did you escape? Mateo told us you got bit.”
“I did. Fortunately, Marcus had not yet turned. I got the bite kit from him. There was enough to treat two bites, so I treated myself and pocketed the rest. Since it only made sense for whoever planned the attack to return and collect any new additions to their forces, I disguised myself as one. I ripped open one of their stomachs to get their entrails, just in case they used their noses in addition to their eyes to detect their own kind.”
“Incredible,” Fatima commented.
Cecilia coughed. “Unfortunately, I can still feel the fatigue coming on. I was able to suppress it during our fight, but I can barely stand. I shall leave it to you to pick off the rest of those inside.”
After taking time to rest, they decided to lure the zombies out one by one. Only eleven remained. Ehsan guarded the door. He opened it while Deon stood in the front to lure them out. As soon as one raced outside, Ehsan closed the door. The sound of bodies crashing against it reverberated through the front yard as everyone else attacked the sprinter who’d made it outside.
The group continued this pattern until only two remained inside. The three of them went in to face them, darting around furniture to make them trip. Deon eliminated one. Ehsan pinned down the other while Fatima delivered the finishing blow. No more sprinters remained. Ehsan felt like he had back when he beat his first group of zombies in the early days of the outbreak. He sighed with great relief, the first such sigh he’d had in the last few days, though it felt it’d been far longer. He dropped to the ground.
“We did it,” Fatima cheered as she also sat down. “We finally did it.”
“Yes,” Cecilia agreed. She allowed herself a warm, celebratory smile in between two coughs. “And everyone did an excellent job.”
The four of them returned to the house after catching their breath. Ken and Emma waited at the door. As soon as they walked in, Emma ran to embrace Fatima. They locked lips. Ehsan looked at Ken, who seemed to be on the verge of smiling despite his wound. Ehsan grinned and gave him a gentle pat on the back.
Julie came down the stairs with every kid except for Lucero, Gustavo, and Natalia; Lucero remained asleep upstairs, while Manuel’s children still couldn’t speak. Their grief reminded Ehsan not to feel too satisfied. They’d won, but they’d also lost much in the process. In losing Mateo, in losing Andrew, in losing Manuel, in losing Ryan, in losing Josue, in losing everyone at the pier and the clinic, they lost something precious- or, more accurately, many precious somethings- they could never get back, no matter the victories thereafter. Their group, their community, their world, was the lesser now.
Still, those they lost hadn’t disappeared entirely. Manuel’s confident smile lived on in Gustavo, while his good nature lived on in Natalia. Ehsan watched an elated Estefanía as she ran over to hug him. Even if she wasn’t Mateo’s actual daughter or little sister, he swore he saw the same glimmer of bravery in her eye that Mateo walked around with during his lifetime. He switched his attention to Ana. He wonde
red if she still wanted to be a firefighter. He hoped so.
The group had lost too much, but they hadn’t lost what the trenchcoat zombie had tried to take away from them. As long as they lived on, nothing ever could.
Day 7
SUNDAY, APRIL 9th
Ehsan, Fatima, Hector, and Deon woke up the next morning in the living room downstairs. The image of his friends as zombies, especially Andrew, kept him tossing and turning. He woke up in a cold sweat the middle of the night after hearing Andrew’s final cries in his dreams. He looked to his sister, sleeping on the couch across from him, and then thought of Lucero regaining her strength upstairs, and let himself exhale slowly and release the tension from his chest. Maybe he would talk to his sister about his feelings after all. He drifted back to sleep thinking of what they’d won and what they’d lost, and he woke up in the morning far less relaxed than he hoped he would be, and yet he felt more ready than ever to do what he could for his new family. As everyone else woke up, Cecilia, still recovering from the infection fever whose symptoms she had suppressed the previous night by strength of will alone, called for a meeting in the living room.
“We have a lot to be proud of.” She coughed and looked pale, but assured everyone the worst of the fever had passed. “But we must also figure out what to do next.”
“Are you sure you’re up to leading this meeting?” Ehsan asked.
“Perhaps not,” Cecilia admitted. She turned to Fatima. “Fatima, would you mind leading the discussion?”
Fatima smiled and nodded. “Certainly. What does everyone think we should do?”
“I say we join the fields,” Deon suggested. “We got food there, and we got our people there.”
“Or maybe we could rebuild the clinic,” Hector proposed. “We’ve got the people to hold it down safely. We could even make it a clinic and a school.”
“I say we try for Camp Pendleton,” Ehsan offered. “With Lucero’s immunity, we should see if we can find someone who can figure out a vaccine or something.”
“That ain’t a bad idea,” Deon admitted with a nod.
“It is risky, though,” Hector pointed out. “It’s a pretty long walk on foot, and we have no idea what might be out there, or if Camp Pendleton is even still standing.”
“All fair points,” Fatima said. “I propose that, for now, we should check in with our site at the field. We shall go from there. They may even offer us assistance for these other plans. How does that sound?”
Everyone agreed. They got ready to leave for the fields, to leave the last week behind, but without forgetting it. To forge their future, the lessons from their past a compass guiding their journey. They walked forward with their losses and triumphs, their dreams and despairs, their possibilities and limitations weighing heavily on their hearts. They would continue their part in the relay race of the greater human family, ready to pass the baton to those behind them when the time came. Estefanía grabbed Ehsan’s hand and Ana did the same with Fatima. Lucero, having regained most of her strength, chatted with Julie and Emma.
The sun shone with radiant vitality upon everyone’s faces. Ehsan thought of the garden back at Linda Vista Elementary. He missed its flowers and painted tree stumps and hummingbirds, but he knew that garden could be remade anywhere, given enough time and care. For now he pledged that time and care to his new family. Everything the entire group did would determine not only the world the kids inherited, but how they viewed that world. Ehsan had to make sure he lived up to the mighty expectations set by being Mateo’s living legacy, and indeed the living legacy of everyone the group had lost.
He exchanged glances with Fatima. They both smiled. He knew they could do it.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
David lives in San Marcos, California. He has a BA from UC Irvine in International Studies, an MA from San Diego State University in History, and a PhD from The School of Medium Strength Knocks in Being a Giant Dork. In his spare time he likes to write (who would’ve guessed?), read, practice jiujitsu at 10th Planet Oceanside, spend time with his wonderful girlfriend Kat, and think far more about Space Jam than any reasonable person really should.
The Human Spring Page 35