(Book 2)What Remains

by Barnes, Nathan

  Sarah wasn’t the only one who hardly spoke. Maddox sat with his back against the rear door. He had a distantness to him that I so badly wanted to pull him out of. I didn’t see him cry or pout; he was just quiet. Trying for a reaction, I lightly nudged him with my boot to no avail. Calise finished the checkup then sat beside me.

  “Hey, mister,” I said softly towards him.

  He didn’t move. This apparently bothered his little sister who wanted him to respond. In a pink flash she hopped over to him. She had no idea what the other three members of her family had just gone through or why we were all so quiet. As far as she knew I got hurt, again, and everything else was fine. Her little fingers assaulted his belly in hopes of tickling him.

  “NO, CALISE!” he snarled. Startled, she jumped back to nestle into my side with tears in her eyes.

  “Hey now,” I interjected. “She didn’t mean anything by it. She was only worried about you.”

  “Fine,” Maddox mumbled. “Sorry, Calise. I’m fine.”

  She continued to pout into my shirt. I stroked her hair while saying back to him, “No, I don’t think you are.”

  The tone, the face, everything was akin to the type of denial he once used when claiming he wasn’t tired on school nights. “I am fine. We’re safe and that’s what matters.”

  I’m sure he expected me to scold him like I would have on a school night. However, what the boy had just gone through was something no one, child or adult, should ever experience. I kept emotion out of my response in hopes he wouldn’t tune me out.

  “You’re right. We are safe and that is what matters. But I don’t think you’re fine. I’m not fine, neither is Mommy. You faced situations that would send grown-ups running and I’m so proud of you for it.”

  A tear escaped his eye. “I tried to be brave. Really, I did.”

  Aches filled my body as pried Calise free then scooted beside him. “You were brave, Monkey. You were braver than I ever thought someone could be. Although, like I explained to you before, bravery and fear keep each other in check. There are scary, horrible things out there. My job was to protect you from those bad things. I didn’t do my job right and you almost got hurt because of it. Failing you like that is something I will never forgive myself for.”

  “That’s stupid, Daddy. If you failed then we wouldn’t be talking about this now. Even if Mommy hadn’t come I know we would have been alright.”

  “You were right, buddy. You are incredibly brave.”

  I expected him to smile but instead he looked confused. “Daddy, why was that man so bad?”

  The man back at the pharmacy wasn’t bad; he was absolutely deranged. I’d say he was more evil than the virus that started all this. Calise was in close proximity to us so I had to keep my responses vague. “I don’t know, buddy. Not sure I want to know. Sometimes when everything around you is bad it can make you forget what it is to be good. Like we said, there are good guys, bad guys and even monsters in the world. We’ve come across them all.”

  “Does that mean that we might become bad guys?” Calise piped up.

  Maddox laughed. My mind ran through the faces of the people I’d lied to, the cries for help I’d intentionally ignored, the men I had murdered. I faked a laugh too then reassured her, “No, sweet girl. As long as we’re doing things for each other I don’t think we could ever turn into the bad guys.”

  “How long before we get to Grandma and Grandpa’s?” Maddox asked sounding more like his normal self once again.

  There were no windows in the back of the truck, and the isolation skewed perception of time somewhat. It made me feel a little bad for not being open to more stretch breaks earlier in the journey. “I don’t know. Why don’t you guys have a snack while I go talk to Mommy?”

  They happily tore into the cashews I’d recovered from the cluttered shelves of the pharmacy. I took a handful then tried to balance. It baffled me how Sarah had been able to visit me at the wheel so often before. I felt like a pet dog trying to move in the car on a road trip.

  The road looked clear and much of the snow was gone. She was steering around a trio of stalled cars when I popped out. I held out the cashews, “Hungry?”

  “No.”

  “Shouldn’t you eat something?” I stared at maroon streaks painted along the side of the hood of the lead car as we passed it.

  “I said I’m not hungry.”

  “Babe,” I said softly, trying to keep the conversation private, “I’m just worried about you. Shouldn’t we talk about what happened back there?”

  “What is there to talk about? We got out. That asshole was trying to hurt you. He had his arm around Maddox. I did what I had to. What did you see inside?”

  I tried to wipe the image of the stacked children’s corpses from my thoughts. The smell was still stuck in my nostrils. “Doesn’t matter. He was definitely some sort of psychopath; that much was certain. I’m sorry you had to get into any of that.”

  “Cut that shit out, Nathan. I’m not a child. You’re not the only one who has to protect this family. What happened was what needed to happen. I took care of him. End of story.”

  “You’re right,” I conceded. “I’ll stop the superhero bullshit. I am curious, though; after Maddox and I got to the truck I heard a fourth gunshot. Did you kill him?”

  “No, why would I kill him? He said I didn’t have what it took to kill him. I could have, but why bother? He didn’t deserve to die like that so I put a bullet through both knees and both wrists... should have kept him out there long enough,” Sarah said with an eerie calm.

  “Long enough for what?”

  We both listed to the side as she swerved the wheel around to avoid a zombie with crushed legs. It looked like the beast had already been hit by a car some time ago. The injury didn’t deter it from crawling towards the truck. When it disappeared from view there was a quick bump from some part of its body that was caught under the rear wheel.

  “Long enough for the zombies to reach him,” Sarah replied. “Like I said, he didn’t deserve to die from a bullet.”

  Admitting that you disabled a person to be torn apart by the undead shouldn’t have been such a casual statement. However, I agreed with her completely. She didn’t even know the full extent of the psycho’s crimes, yet what she did see him do to her husband and son was more than enough justification for the death sentence. That bastard deserved every second of agony that was inflicted upon him. If there was enough left of him to reanimate, then I’m sure the virus brought him back. Thanks to Sarah, he would slowly rot away without enough function of his arms or legs to curse anyone else.

  Sarah reached over to the spot I set the loose cashews. I was glad our discussion helped her appetite return.

  “Where are we?” I asked with the open map in my hands.

  “Still on Route 58. It’s called the Jeb Stuart Highway now… classy, huh? A few minutes ago it went down to one lane in each direction again. We passed a dinky little airfield too,” she said with a cashew in her mouth.

  I examined the map closely. “I think we’ll get off Route 58 in a little bit. If we could go the speed limit we’d be there in under an hour.”

  She laughed. “This is the first time you’ve given me crap about driving too slow.”

  I kissed her on the top of her head. “Want me to drive?”

  “With the knock you took to your head?”

  I did have a hell of a headache.

  “Calise bandaged me up. I’ll be sore for a few days, but what else is new?” I lightly touched the bandages on my forehead.

  Another laugh came, this one louder than the last. “Yeah, those Hello Kitty band aids look fierce.”

  “It’s darker back there. I couldn’t see what she was doing. Oh well, chicks dig scars, right?” I planted another kiss on her head before wobbling to the back with the kids. “If you need something let me know.”

  The second I plopped between the kids the whole truck shook with a loud thud. Recognizing the impact with
one of the infected I immediately reassured the kids. Calling forward I said, “We still okay?”

  “Umm…” Sarah audibly pondered a kid-appropriate response, “this road has a lot of … speed bumps.”

  1500 hours:

  Everything listed to the right. I assumed we had made a full left-hand turn. Calise looked worried. “Is that the end of Route 58?” I called to the front.

  “Sure was!” she replied. “Almost there guys!”

  Cheers broke out from both kids. I was thrilled to think we’d be there soon. However, my anxiety remained. Internally I was unable to accept that we could actually be close to relative safety at long last. Sitting in the back only allowed my nervous feelings to ferment.

  “Do you want me to come up there with you?”

  “Nope.” Although she was blocked from my view, I could still imagine the crafty smile on her face. Years of marriage enabled her to predict my Attention Deficit Disorder fueled desire to self-occupy in stressful times. “I was in the place you’re sitting for most of the last two days. Also, you got kicked in the head a few hours ago so you should rest. I want you back there with the kids. I’ll let you know when we’re close enough to use the radio to try to warn your parents.”

  My eyes widened. “I forgot about the radio!”

  A pair of curious glances came from my excited outburst. Sarah, on the other hand, saw it as another sarcastic opportunity. “Don’t worry about him, babies. Head injuries can make you forgetful.”

  “DADDY. DO. YOU. REMEMBER. ME?” Maddox deliberately teased as if I had brain damage.

  Calise smacked him. “Leave Daddy alone! He has a headache… Daddy, why are you happy about the radio?”

  I pulled her closer for a kiss. She’s always been a daddy’s girl. From the beginning I’ve relished every sweet thing she’s said or done to prove that. “Remember when we last saw Grandma and Grandpa at their house?”

  “I remember! I do! It was before you were gone for a couple days.”

  It was unfortunate that her frame of reference was based around my absence. I counted on the dim lighting to hide my reaction to the last part of her response. “Good honey, that’s right. Well when Grandpa and I were talking I brought one of these,” I lifted the radio for her to see, “so we’d be able to warn them we were coming if all other ways of communication stopped working.”

  “Why did the phones and the TV stop working?”

  “Why would they still work?” meddled her brother. “It’s not like the zombies stayed working at the phone company or the TV stations. Don’t be stupid, Calise.”

  Now I was the one who smacked him. “The only thing that is stupid is talking to your sister like that.” He looked guilty. “How often do we have to remind you that she is five and you’re eight? When you were five we didn’t insult you when you asked innocent questions.”

  Our bickering apparently made their way up to the driver’s seat because Sarah added, “And you asked a lot of them.”

  “Cut it out and don’t do it again, mister. Alright?”

  He turned to Calise mumbling the way he did when he wasn’t convinced wrongdoing had taken place. “Sorry, Calise.”

  “I’m still smart. Did you know that? I’m five now but I’ll be six in February,” She said, her worry turning into self-satisfaction.

  “I know, Princess. We know how smart you are. Just like your brother here.” In effort to change the subject I said towards the blanket divider, “So, Mommy, when will we get to use the radio?”

  “The range is only a few miles, right?”

  “Three or four, I think.”

  The vibrations I felt in the walls changed, we were slowing down. A loud crinkle of the map let me know that our deceleration was from Sarah examining the map. “If this old thing is correct then we’ll be on the Blue Ridge Parkway in a just a few minutes. The road is narrower and not nearly as straight so I’m planning on playing it safe with the speed. When we reach Fancy Gap we might be close enough to try the radio. Thirty minutes, maybe less.”

  1535 hours:

  Blue Ridge Parkway had a reputation for being a scenic route. I couldn’t attest to the scenery from the back of the mail truck, but I did feel the twists and turns. The three of us made a game out of guessing which direction the centrifugal pull would be next. Two more collisions with infected road hazards came in quick succession of each other.

  “More speed bumps?” I timidly called.

  “Yup. Couldn’t avoid them.”

  I think Maddox read between the lines. Thankfully Calise didn’t seem to catch on. The second hit felt hard, enough for me to be concerned. “How is the truck after that speed bump?”

  “It’s fine. We’re still okay. Did you know the wiper fluid works even with the fencing on there? Amazing, really.”

  I stifled a laugh. Maddox confirmed he was onto us while supporting his place as a smart ass. “Can you believe they put speed bumps out on the main road like that? I think someone is playing a joke.”

  “Here comes Fancy Gap. Go on, sweetheart. Give the radio a try.”

  The little red light flashed as I twisted the volume knob. Both kids hovered above me eager to hear a line of communication with their grandparents. While holding the black walkie talkie in front of them I advised, “Don’t talk over me. Got it? Weeks have passed since I gave the radio to Grandpa. We don’t know that they will even have it on.”

  “Sweetie, stay positive,” Sarah said. “There’s no point to that. We’ll try to call them and if that doesn’t work we will still be there really, really soon. So it doesn’t matter one way or another.”

  Unconsciously I rolled my eyes. Maddox spotted it and snickered. “Mommy is right, I’m sorry for being negative. Let’s give it a try.”

  I pressed the transmit button. “Dad? Mom? It’s us. Are you there?” The light cut off. We waited on pins and needles but there was no response.

  Insightfully, Maddox suggested, “Is it on the right channel? They won’t hear you if it’s not.”

  It was on channel three, the one we had used more recently for close-to-home communications. I clicked it over to channel four since that was the one I had originally used back when the walkies were nothing more than a paranoid purchase. Although I couldn’t remember it clearly, I felt fairly confident that the one I handed my dad was also on four.

  After displaying it for the keenly observant boy at my side, I tried again. “Hello? Can you guys hear me?” Again we heard nothing back.

  “Why won’t Grandma or Grandpa answer?” Calise inquired timidly.

  “I wish I knew, baby girl. Could be that their batteries died. It doesn’t matter because we’ll see them really, really soon.”

  I triple checked that the light was on when the transmit button was depressed, then I made a final try. “Not sure if you can hear me, but we’re coming. All four of us will be there really soon. We’re in a funny looking mail truck - can’t miss us.”

  “No luck?” Sarah called from up front.

  The worried little girl beat me to it. “Their batteries died, Mommy.”

  “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll be there in no time at all. I promise.” Both kids beamed at Sarah’s comforting words. “Daddy, if you’re feeling up to it, I’ll want you up here when we are close to the turn.”

  “Alright, sweetheart.” I turned to the kids. “Most of our stuff will stay in the car until tomorrow. Get your personal backpacks ready with anything you took out. I doubt we’ll come back to the truck today so keep that in mind with what you’re bringing. Later tonight I’m not going to tolerate any sob stories about something you left out here.”

  Calise grabbed hold of her kitties like her life depended on it. Maddox nonchalantly returned three books to the zippered pack. The difference between the two of them was astounding. My boy had gone from a little boy to a teenager in the span of a week.

  “One last thing,” I cautioned, “watch the noise. Of course we’re all happy to be there. I miss Grandma and
Grandpa as much as you two so I understand you’ll be excited. However, noise can draw the monsters. That’s a lesson you have to remember whenever you’re outside until I say otherwise. Got it?”

  With us all on the same page I wobbled my way up to the front to see where we were. I leaned against the rack holding some of my gear and the shotgun to examine the map. We were close, very close. I could see the road open up ahead for an overpass.

  “I think that’s the highway overpass your dad talked about. The turn is coming up right after, correct?” I could hear the anxiousness in my wife’s tone. Like the rest of us, she was very eager to have this exodus a thing of the past.

  I’d only been to the farm once, and I wasn’t the one who drove here. On one of the early trips my dad took after they bought the property I was volunteered to join him. He had to make sure the previous owners had left the place intact before signing the paperwork. Their real estate agent swore that it was in ‘suitable condition’ for the price they were paying. Unwilling to settle for a description that sounded like the lady said it in quotation marks, he had to qualify it with his own eyes. Dad’s always been like that, the cautious one.

  I strained to remember that rainy day two years ago when we drove here. We talked the entire way down about life, career choices, the need to finish college, money management, and the other topics that a good father has the right to pester about when his children are in their thirties. I regretted that I resorted then to retreating within myself in order for my sanity to survive the day. As I attempted to recall the details of that trip, I knew nothing would have made me happier than to have him lecture me again.

  A frustrated grumble left my lips. Sarah raised an eyebrow, probably not expecting that kind of response to her question. “Sorry, babe. I don’t really remember. My dad was driving and it was raining. I didn’t pay as much attention as I should have. At the time I probably thought I’d never have a vacation from police headquarters long enough to come down here.”