by E. M. Fitch
A large smiley face, larger than any Emma had painted before, stick tongue hanging out of its stick mouth and all. Underneath that was a simple message:
Supplies here for those who need them. Keep heading North. We will find safety.
The smiley face was hers, meant just for Andrew and Kaylee. But it was Jack's message, his and Quinton's, left at every city they had demolished. Jack said they normally wrote them at intervals, supplies left below crude signs. But here, on the billboard, it would be seen for miles. Emma had even left baby formula, not so much because there wasn't other food they could leave, they had found a stash in the surrounding homes and had more than they could travel with, but as a sort of homage to Anna, who had insisted they leave that when they blew up her home city.
"Where do we sleep today?" Emma asked, the intoxicating feeling of hope and energy still bursting around inside of her. She thought momentarily of the vodka she had left in the house and dismissed it; it didn't compare to this rush. Jack looked up in answer and she nodded, they got out of the car at the same time and then paused, both leaning against their car doors.
The last bomb exploded. In a rush of heat and noise, the building toppled as though in slow motion, cutting off any last exit from the torn city. The moans and screeching of the infected trapped inside sounded muffled in comparison but Emma didn't feel the stirring of pity for them, except for maybe that she hadn't managed to kill more of them before trapping them in the rubble.
Even as she thought it, she heard the shuffled gait of a biter staggering up behind her. The glow of the city was enough to illuminate the suburbs surrounding it, not with brilliant flashes of light that could reach into the darkest shadows, but with enough illumination to wake the bodies left dormant on the streets. And there were more than a few surrounding the billboard.
She felt, more than heard, Jack head towards the ladder that would take them safely away from the creatures. And maybe it was the faint stirrings of pity from before or maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through her as though she was injected with it, but she didn't follow. She reached into the back of the convertible and took out the lightweight, aluminum pole that was once a ski pole but that she had sharpened into a kind of spear. She bent her elbow, letting the sharpened end rest just over her shoulder and then thrust her hand out, catching the man in the chest with her fist and the handle, sending him sprawling onto his back. In one fluid move, she had the sharpened point aimed at his yellowed eye, his sunken eye socket. She jabbed, felt the clunk as it hit the back of his skull, and then slide the pole out neatly, feeling him finally still beneath her.
She did the same to four more while Jack took care of those coming behind.
It wasn't the same rush of adrenaline, and as the last fell quiet, she realized that wasn't why she did it. It may have been the spur, the kick to get her moving, but the action was one of pity and of sorrow. She was sorry she couldn't do the same for the ones trapped in the city, sorry they would be forced to live their lives hunting and eating and killing. She wouldn't have wanted that for herself.
She took her pole with her as she climbed, Jack right behind her. The city burned with a heat they could feel even from the billboard platform, and as soon as she got to the top, she sat facing it, letting the warmth wash over her. The buildings continued to collapse, not in huge amounts, just parts toppling over, small structures collapsing under unexpected weights. The sun was starting to rise behind them, illuminating the mess they created in new ways, lighting pockets of darkness and waking creatures who had been sleeping.
"You don't mind killing them," Jack said softly. He had been so quiet, Emma almost forgot he was there.
"No, I don't," Emma answered. Her voice was soft but sure. "I think it's the right thing to do."
"Kaylee wouldn't agree," Jack said. Emma flinched a bit, but not as much as she thought she would, as he spoke her sister's name.
"I know."
"She thinks they're people," Jack continued, as though that explained it.
"I think they're people, too," Emma said. He looked at her questioningly. "Do you believe in a soul?"
It was random, even for their strange and stunted conversations, and she knew that. He frowned but didn't answer.
"Well, I do. I believe in good and evil, right and wrong. I believe some people are broken, that they can't help but do wrong. But that still doesn't make it okay. These people," she swept her hand in an all encompassing gesture, "what they do is wrong. They kill, they murder, and yeah, maybe they're sick, maybe they can't help it, but does that mean we should just let them?"
"I wouldn't say we let them do anything," Jack argued but Emma shook her head.
"Even if we fight them, even if we don't let them bite us, them existing? Allowing them to go on living when we know that they'll keep killing and eating people. It's wrong. Not for us, or for the universe, but for them, because they can't help but do wrong. And we could stop that for them, but we don't!
"They have souls, all humans do, and what's happening to that part of them? All this murder and cannibalism. Why are we allowing them to destroy themselves like this?"
"They can't help it," Jack said softly.
"Even more reason then!" Emma said, turning to face Jack. "Look, if you were a murderer, couldn't help it, just kept murdering people, what do you think society should do with you?"
"Society? You mean just us?" he asked. He spread his arms in an all-encomposing gesture that Emma understood. She rolled her eyes.
"I mean society, you know what I mean."
"Well, I guess jail," Jack answered, obviously willing to play along. Emma nodded. Jack gestured out to the collapsing city. "Like that one, isn't that what we just did? Put them away so they can't hurt anyone else."
"Right, only they can." She continued at his puzzled look. "Even in a jail, the murderers can still hurt people. In that collapsed city, the infected will just go on hurting each other and themselves. I don't care if they can help it or not, it's not fair to let them do that, damaging their souls worse and worse, because we're too afraid to just end it for them."
"You'd think God would let them slide on that," Jack said. Emma shrugged.
"Maybe. Maybe not. But a lot of people do a lot of bad things and say they can't help it. It doesn't make it okay to keep doing bad things though, it's not an excuse. And what if it were you?" she asked, veering off topic a bit but knowing Jack understood. "If you were bit, would you want to roam around like that?"
"No," he answered emphatically. "If it's me, you should kill me immediately."
"I agree," she said. "I asked them to do just that when I was bitten."
"Only it didn't work on you."
"Right," Emma answered, her eyes now far away, scanning the broken city. "It didn't work on me."
They were quiet for a long time. The smoke from the city rose in a billowing tower, high into the sky. It would be seen for miles. Jack was right. If Kaylee, Andrew, Bill, or Anna were still alive, they would see this. If they were anywhere in the area, they wouldn't be able to miss it, and they would know who had done it. They would come.
For the first time in a long time, the twist of anxiety that had remained coiled in her chest loosened.
~
Dawn broke fully and Emma yawned, her eyes squinting shut against the bright day. She tensed as she felt Jack stiffening, turning sharply towards him as he jumped to his feet.
Her first thought was of her sister, that they had seen the smoke and come, come so quickly the fires hadn't even extinguished. But Jack wasn't going for the ladder. He stood, silent and still, peering down into the sunlit streets.
There were no infected people. Whatever had been left in the homes, the small number that that was, they had wandered long ago to the noise and light of the burning city. Instead a sight Emma never thought she'd see again materialized down main street.
"Is that a-" her voice trailed off as she stood.
"Beautiful," Jack murmured, not meeting he
r eye.
"Where could they have come from?" Emma whispered, inching closer to the edge to get a better look.
"Zoo, most likely. Got hungry and wandered out, I guess."
The black, unmistakeable silhouette of a family of giraffe traveled slowly over the hill. They walked in calm, measured steps, their long necks stretched into the golden sky. Up and over the hill, from behind the group of giraffe, a giant beast emerged. Floppy ears, long trunk swaying casually, first one elephant, then a second.
Emma and Jack stood mesmerized, watching the procession as they picked through the suburban streets.
"Think that's all that got out?" Emma asked casually as the giant beasts meandered passed their billboard. "Or could there be some lions wandering around, too?"
"Lions and tigers and bears?" Jack asked, smiling. "Could be, who knows?"
"Amazing that the infected haven't gotten them yet," Emma said. The giraffe's head almost reached to the billboard platform. She watched as a long, black tongue flit out, seemingly to caress one of the last green leaves on the trees around them. It disappeared with his tongue, as he pulled it back through his lips.
"Yeah, but then again, they were used to being prey, weren't they?" Jack said. "I mean, things were chasing them down long before the world ended. And, as you pointed out before, animals can't get infected."
Emma nodded, acknowledging the truth of his statement.
"I'm glad you killed her," Emma said softly, her eyes still on the elephant as it wandered around a corner. "My mother, I mean."
"I knew what you meant," Jack murmured. He fell quiet and though the animals were gone, Emma didn't turn towards him. She spoke her words into the still and silent morning.
"It killed me, seeing her like that," she whispered. "I hated it and couldn't do anything about it. She should have been shot the second she turned. Thank you for finally doing it."
He didn't answer. She didn't need him to answer. She went to her sleeping bag, slipping into the silky fabric and closing her eyes. She let her mind drift to the sounds of the fire, far enough away to keep her from harm and yet close enough to feel its warmth and pretend she was snuggled by a fireplace, warm and dry and safe.
~
Emma was awoken by a blast that sent birds scattering into the dusky sky. She sat with a jerk. Jack was already inching towards the edge.
"The next one can go right through that platform there," a strange voice called up. Emma looked down to see a man with a shot gun, poised and ready to fire again.
"Why are you shooting?" Jack yelled down. "We haven't done anything. We're just waiting for our friends."
"Oh, so that wasn't you?" the man drawled, pointing lazily towards the ruined city. Neither Jack nor Emma spoke. "That was ours. You have some explaining to do."
"Sure, we'll do it from right here," Jack called down. The men below, Emma counted five of them, all laughed.
"Nice try," the leader chuckled. "Come down now or we'll blow you down and take your pieces back with us."
The laughter stopped as the man with the shotgun subtly raised the barrel. When Emma and Jack hesitated, he pulled the trigger and a chunk of platform splintered. Chunks of wood sprayed over their legs. Emma eyed the gun she had, left next to the disheveled sleeping bag, Jack must have done the same. More guns were trained on them and the leader slowly shook his head.
"You can try for it," he said. "But we'll kill you. I was told to bring back whoever was responsible for destroying the city, doesn't matter to me if you're dead or alive."
"Patrick," one of the men admonished, "give them a minute." The leader, Patrick, shrugged and grinned up at them.
"Well?" he asked.
Rough hands seized Emma before her feet hit the ground. Jack was already standing in a group of men, his hands bound by rope in front of him.
Emma hadn't been touched in weeks. When Jack and she were alone, he kept his distance, respectful of her wishes and respectful of the infection. The hands on her skin now burned and she felt saliva pool in her mouth. The conversation she had with Jack, where she wondered if it was okay to let people hurt her, knowing they'd turn if they tried, flashed in her mind and a panic she didn't know she was capable of tore through her. She struggled against the hands, the press of male bodies, her wrists already chaffing as they struggled to get the rope around.
Jack's voice broke through when no one else's could have. The men were grunting and muttering, telling her to be still she thought, but they droned together, a loud buzzing that terrified her.
"Emma," Jack shouted. "Em, stop! Just listen."
It took a lot of effort to still her breathing, calm the frantic beating of her heart that pounded in her ears and made her skin feel like it was vibrating.
"Emma, it's okay, calm down," he said to her. To the men, he wasn't soft or quiet. "That's my sister-in-law. We're waiting for my wife. Please, don't touch her. She can't handle it."
Emma felt the way she was panting and cringing should have made that obvious, but at Jack's words, the men backed away.
"Was she..." Patrick trailed off. Emma was unsure what he was asking. But Jack nodded. The rest of the men stayed back. "Ok, walk with us, right next to us, and none of us will touch you. Alright?"
His tone was gentler, soft. Emma nodded. The men turned to leave, indicating the direction with a jerk of their head. But Jack stopped.
"My wife," he said, the words stunted, like he was forcing them through a tight throat. "Our friends, they're expecting us to be here."
In response Patrick took a can of spray paint from his bag and tossed it to one of his men. On the side of an abandoned delivery truck, he left a message.
They're safe with us.
-NNA.
"NNA?" Emma murmured, watching the man paint an arrow in the direction they would head.
"Welcome to the New North America, girlie."
Chapter 12
"What are they doing?" Andrew whispered. They could see the chaos erupting from within the Circle, even across the street from the impound lot. People were shouting, smoke rising in thick black clouds as fires were doused with water. Kaylee and Andrew could hear the rev of several engines and the squealing of tires as the vehicles started shifting positions.
"Circle up in ten minutes!" Patricia called out. Her voice was muffled by the shouts of others, people yelling into the night for their family and friends to return, but Kaylee could hear it easily enough. The cold authority rang through.
The front gate was already unlocked and nobody looked twice as Kaylee and Andrew walked through. The lead jeep, a smaller one without the large guns that the other jeeps had bolted to their cross bars, was already idling down the road. One man, Kaylee thought his name was Jim, leant against the dirty, black side of the vehicle.
Everyone inside the lot was moving, bundles of possessions under their arms. Anna was easy to spot. She was the only one keeping still.
"I didn't think you were going to make it," Anna said as soon as Kaylee and Andrew reached her. Her eyes were toward the illuminated sky. "It's them, isn't it?"
Kaylee nodded. "It has to be."
"We need a car," Anna whispered.
"Alright, everyone!" Pamela shouted over the chaos. "Five minutes!"
"Are they going to let us leave, you think?" Anna asked. Before she could even finish speaking, Pamela's eyes zeroed in on them. She walked in a direct line, people stepping out of her way.
"There is no time for games, where is your vehicle?" she asked without preamble. Kaylee kept her face carefully blank.
"Why are you leaving the lot?" Kaylee asked, diverting her. Patricia's back stiffened as her eyes narrowed down at Kaylee.
"That explosion, what do you know about it?"
"Nothing. I was nearby, what could I possibly-"
"It doesn't matter," she interjected, reaching forward for Kaylee's arm. "We're heading out, putting some distance between us and whoever blew up that city. Get in the bus, they have room."
&n
bsp; The pressure increased on the crook of her arm and Kaylee stiffened, digging her feet into the gravel. "I'm not going anywhere," she said, shaking her arm loose.
"Like hell you're not!" Patricia spat. "We make the call as to when and where we go. We're going. And like it or not, you have no choice but to come with us."
"Like she said," Andrew spoke up. "We're not going with you."
"You're staying here? Without help? Alone?" It was said in a tone of incredulity mixed with suspicion.
"We're staying," Anna affirmed. Patricia's eyes narrowed, the bundled muscle of her jaw twitching. She turned at the scream behind her, frantic cries from a woman who couldn't find her brother.
"He went with Michael! Where are they?"
She turned without another glance at Kaylee, jogging to the other side of the lot. Andrew grabbed at her elbow. They moved to the back of the lot.
"We're going to have to use the bike as best we can. Maybe one of us could take it out, see if we can find a car-"
Kaylee cut Andrew off, shaking her head. "There's none, not for miles."
"We could steal one of theirs," Anna murmured. Her eyes were downcast as she said it, stuffing her sleeping bag into a backpack. When she looked up, Kaylee caught her gaze, knowing her agreement was already plain in her eyes.
"They'd kill us," Andrew argued.
"There's no better time," Kaylee said. "It's so confusing right now. I have the gun. We could probably-"
"No," Andrew said, shaking his head. "Not unless we have no other choice."
Both girls acquiesced without a fight. They planned instead to sneak over the back wall, circle around to the bike once the rest of the Circle had taken off. They had a couple of hours of dark left. Even if they didn't get too far, they could always spend the night in the impound lot. Everyone would be gone. None of the people of the Circle would be any wiser if they did.
Kaylee's boots hit the pavement first, Andrew and Anna close behind her.
"Where are you going?" a calm voice asked. A shadow materialized in the form of a tall man with sandy hair, several other men stepping up behind him.