“So, Chloe, how do you know Marty?” she asked the new woman.
“Ma'am,” Chloe said to Grandma, “can I tell them?”
“I trust these people until the end of time,” she said with a giggle. “Spill the beans!” she said with a little hop.
“Yeah, right. Well, I found Marty back in Cairo as the zombies started to attack the town. I oversaw some of the defenses, and that put me in position to talk to some of the leaders in charge over there. A general gave me the task of keeping her safe from harm.”
“Wow, Grandma, you knew a general?” Jerry asked.
Marty was quiet for several paces. “Yes, the general was a good man.”
Jerry glanced over to Lana and seemed to realize what had been said.
“I'm sorry for your loss.”
“No, it's fine. He died in the most noble way possible. He went off to put a stop to the schemes of that vile woman, Elsa. I guess he died when the bomb dropped on him.”
“My God, what have you been involved with?” Lana exclaimed.
“I know I'm a drag on you fine people and so many died in Cairo because of me. On any normal day I would have been able to resist whatever force that was that made me jump in the water. I'm not one for suicide, you know.”
Marty sighed.
“But there has been too much death for me. Millions died at Cairo if you include the infected. It was terrible.”
“But necessary,” Chloe interjected.
“Yes, of course,” Marty agreed. “I don't want to take away from what you did to keep people alive. And there are survivors.”
“Us,” Chloe replied.
“Yeah, we've had an eventful escape,” Marty said with a forced chuckle. “But we've still got things to do. The vision in my head said we had to go to Colorado to unlock a computer and that I needed Liam and Victoria to completely open it.”
“Well, let's find out where he is,” Lana said in agreement.
“We have the tracker,” Mel reminded them.
“I can sense him,” Marty said as if embarrassed. “In my head, I can sense where he is.”
“Is he far?” Lana inquired without caring how it was possible.
“No, not at all. I can sometimes hear his voice. And Victoria's.”
“That's great!” Lana replied.
“Yes, but there is one problem,” Marty said with sadness.
“What? Is Liam in danger?” Lana blurted out.
“Always. He's always in danger.” Marty made Phil stop so she could turn and look at Lana. “But my son, Robbie, has gone off to find him, too. I can sense him in there as well.”
Lana studied the woman's eyes for a long moment wondering if she'd finally cracked. She looked terrible with her mud-stained green pantsuit and her thin white curls. But her eyes seemed bright and alert compared to the rest of her body. She didn't detect any confusion or doubt.
“What does that even mean?” Lana finally asked.
Marty turned back to Phil. “It really bends my brisket to ask this of you, but can you carry me the rest of the way. I tried to walk as fast as possible, but I'm slowing us down too much. We have to get to Liam.”
“Sure, ma'am,” Phil replied. “Anything for you.”
Lana watched as Phil gently heaved her and set her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.
“Why? Why are we in a hurry?” Lana asked her once they were on the move again. “Was that really your son?”
“Yes. I don't know how he found me, but he did. He tried to kill me, I'm sure of that now. He had trouble getting a hold of me while I flailed for my life in that water. Of course, the water didn't cooperate with either of us.” She giggled. “But he really got scared off when Chloe and Mark jumped in after me and once you and Phil arrived he was already swimming away.”
“Zombies can swim?” Mel asked.
“Some of them can. Robert can.”
“And you know where he's going?” Lana pressed.
“I'm afraid so. His brain only has one directive, as best I can tell, and it involves killing everyone in our bloodline.”
“What? That's insane. Why would a zombie do that?” Lana hesitated before adding. “I mean I know they want to kill, but why us? Why Liam specifically?”
“I don't know, dear. Al said the zombies were a mistake. A one instead of a zero, or something. Maybe there is also a two instead of a three in Robert's brain?”
“That's not how computers work,” Chloe replied softly.
“Nonetheless,” Marty pressed on, “Robbie couldn't bring me down with so much family around to help me.” She paused for a moment. “Thank you, all, by the way. Oh, my. My manners have disappeared.”
“It's fine. What about Liam?” Lana asked.
“So, Liam is close, and he doesn't have any other family to protect him. I think Robert could sense my connection with Liam and fed off that. He and I both saw Liam at the same time.”
Lana turned and rolled her eyes. On the one hand there was no question they had to find Liam. If he was close by, nothing was going to stop her from tracking him down. They used the tracker to find Marty because she was closest, and it was the right call, but now she felt a little guilty for putting her son second.
She tried to imagine Marty's situation with her dead son. She didn't know if she'd lose her mind a bit, too, if she lost Liam. In these crazy times, could Marty's dead son had somehow come back to life as a zombie and haunt her so much she would want to jump in a dangerous river?
Those eyes seemed so steady and calm, but what was behind them?
Lana didn't know what to believe in regard to Marty, but there was no point in deliberating about it. Once they reached the MRAP it was a simple matter of plugging in Liam's name and seeing where he was.
Ten minutes later, that's exactly what happened.
“He's close to that truck stop,” Jerry said while pointing to the map in the tracker. “Not ten miles away.”
“Liam, my sunshine, we're coming,” Lana whispered to herself.
Mel turned the MRAP around and backtracked along the shore. Soon they'd find the road. Then the highway. Then the truck stop.
Then she'd have her family back in her arms.
There was nothing more powerful to motivate her.
Reorient. Reacquire.
Day 21. Morning.
Zombie Robert came ashore not far downstream from the one he saw as Mother. Since he lacked any vocabulary, or vocal chords, he could not call out to her or say he was sorry for almost drowning her. His directive was to taste her blood because it was from the same line as his. That's all he wanted from her, but when he summoned her into the water to collect, things didn't go as expected.
The small woman fell from the boat and then thrashed wildly in his arms. Several times he almost had her glowing arteries in front of his teeth, but the stream itself seemed to fight against him. The water pulled and pushed and thrust him in so many directions, it made it difficult to do two things at once. Because his brain was rotten, he forgot he didn't need to swim at all, because he was already dead.
Then the other two jumped in and ruined it all.
The orange-haired woman went for Mother and tried to yank her away.
The man went right for him.
When Robert lost the hold on his mother the zombie reverted to its default setting of viciously attacking any living person. If it could reflect on the difference between the man and his Mother, he might have said he wanted to be gentle with his blood kin. He was compelled to tenderly bite her neck where the blood ran fast and thick.
The man, however, was a threat, and he reacted viciously to repel it.
Rather than bother with the niceties of the neck, he grappled with the man and bit him over and over wherever he found skin. Arms. Face. Ankle.
They sank to the bottom and rolled over rocks as they fought, but the outcome was written almost at first contact. Robert the Korean War soldier would have recognized a fellow warrior giving his life, so others cou
ld live. Zombie Robert only saw it as an annoyance to be dealt with, same as all the other little missions he'd endured on his path to tracking down his family.
By the time he separated from his newly infected friend, Robert was caught in a faster current than all the others.
He took some comfort that the one called "Mark" was now part of him. He was a soldier in the army of zombies and he was still close to those rescuing Mother. Would it be compelled to continue the mission of the one who infected it?
Yes or no? Even Zombie Robert understood that stark choice.
Others were in the river, now. New people. Robert couldn't see them, but their voices cried out for Mother and they slapped the water as they closed the distance to her.
The answer was yes. Zombie Mark went on the attack against one of the arriving swimmers.
They engaged in duel to the death in the fast current, just as he had done with Mother. Despite having no feelings or sense of time, Zombie Robert might have seemed anxious as he floated in the fast current and waited for the result of the ongoing melee. Zombie Mark made a best effort to grab, drown, and bite one of the women.
It was a near-run thing, but suddenly Mark turned off. Disappeared from whatever passed through his soggy brain as a link to nearby zombies. His foe did not appear as one of them, either, which meant Mark had failed.
Also, Mother escaped.
Zombie Robert spent no time resting or drying out once he found his way to shore. He got to his feet and started to run upriver, toward his target. The scent of his mother was overwhelming.
He paused and sniffed the air when his brain registered new targets. More family members were close. It was, for someone dead for almost seventy years, like walking up to the gates of Heaven and anticipating the imminent reunion of lost loved ones.
Mother.
The living Jerry.
The living Liam.
Their blood was the same as his, and he knew their names because Mother did. He was driven to find them because they would be powerful additions to his unit/family/army. In return, their blood would restore his strength. They could live forever, together.
He took off with renewed energy. A living person would call it excitement and he ran at top speed because of that fake feeling. Whatever it was, it clouded his already low-functioning brain, so he didn't notice it when he ran twenty yards into a Mississippi River mud flat. The thick goopy river muck grabbed him all the way up to his thighs.
The zombie had no sense of futility or frustration, but it did look down at the mud for a long minute. An observer might have wondered if the zombie was engaged in some primitive thought to figure out what went wrong.
She is near.
His Mother drove him to plow through the challenge with superhuman strength. Or extra-human strength. Zombie Robert would have no textbook definition of what it/he was. Robert's compulsion to bring his family into the fold made him something of a zealot in the zombie community. That dedication is what drove him to claw, crawl, and thrust himself across fifty yards of soupy mud.
It took many minutes to cross the low spot along the bank, and when he was free of it, he got up and started running like nothing unusual had happened.
He finally caught sight of Mother, but he was too late. She was rescued now and was in the company of four living helpers.
And one of them was the other family member he knew as Jerry.
Something prevented him from attacking at that instant. It might have been self-preservation, but it felt different. More of a warning from deep inside him. His body's muscles refused to move, no matter how much the rest of him saw his opportunity to pounce on his prey.
Wait. Wait. Wait.
Zombie Robert had no choice. The group of souls got inside the multi-colored metal box sitting on six black circles and moved out of his sight.
The instant the box disappeared, he went back into tracking mode. It continued to make noise as it went through the trees next to the river, but he didn't even need that. The vehicle's exhaust fell as thick as the trail of a garden slug and would be easy to follow, so he started after it.
Zombie Robert was good at running, and the truck he pursued didn't go very fast on the broken landscape. It took a path through the woods that allowed Robert to keep his virtual eye on the container holding his mother, but he finally lost it when it went onto a hard surface road and sped off to the horizon.
However, by that point he had a good bead on the third person he'd been tracking. The boy he'd seen at the farmhouse. The one called Liam.
He needed to reorient and reacquire.
And he suddenly knew exactly where to find the boy.
Mother would lead him right there.
The Last Bullet
Day 21. Morning. On the interstate a few miles west of Charleston, MO.
Victoria shifted uneasily in the back seat of the tractor-trailer cab. Liam and Dave had shown them all the evidence someone was locked in the back trailer with the zombies, but Dave wanted to get them back on the highway to avoid drawing attention from the drone police.
“We have to get that guy out of there,” Liam said. He sat next to her but fidgeted like a three-year-old. “He needs our help.”
“No way,” Sabella replied in a scolding tone. “Let's take the truck and let professionals handle it.” She paused a second while she looked out the front window. “There! On that sign. It says New Madrid is only fifteen miles from here. There has to be someone there who can help.”
Victoria thought she mispronounced the city name because it didn't sound like the capital of Spain but more like MAD-rid. She thought about asking why, but she learned to follow Liam's lead in things like this, because he was a local and she was from Colorado. Part of that lesson came from the town of Cairo, which was pronounced nothing at all like the city in Egypt. She figured the people in the Midwest were just lousy at names.
Liam seemed to think on it, and she couldn't see what Dave's reaction was at that moment. However, she'd learned more than names on her journey.
“We can't risk taking zombies into a town. If there are as many as we think back there, they could destroy the entire population in about five minutes.”
“She's right,” Liam added, “We have to solve this problem out here in the middle of nowhere.” He motioned outside to the endless farm fields.
“Well, let me out, first,” Elise said in a biting tone from the front seat.
Victoria put her hand on Liam's leg because she thought he was going to rise to the fight from the young woman, but he sat back on the bed instead.
“We have to do it safely,” he said in a low voice.
Sabella and Susan sat next to him, but they seemed distracted.
“We need to push the zombies out the back like a sleeve of crackers,” she whispered to him. The rectangular truck was shaped exactly like a long package of saltines, so that was the first thing that came to her mind.
“But what about the guy?” Liam asked in the same conspiratorial low voice.
She thought it over for a few seconds. “If he's alive, how is he even in there with the zombies?”
“Hmm,” was Liam's reply.
They drove for a few more minutes in total silence before Liam said something.
“I have an idea that will keep the zombies far from any town and also minimize the risk to us. It won't work unless we can find the right place to do it safely.”
“I'm listening,” Dave said from behind the wheel. He tapped his video camera. “If you guys have any ideas, leave them in the comments.”
“That's off, right?” Victoria asked immediately.
Dave let his hand sit on the camera for a few seconds before replying. “Yeah, it's just a habit, I guess. I hate how I can't record this for posterity.”
“Can you record it but not put it online,” she asked.
“That might not be safe,” Liam added.
“Said the boy with the world after him,” Elise remarked without looking back.
>
Dave seemed to decide. “Yeah, as long as I don't dump the files onto my channel they will stay on my laptop. If I promise not to upload them will you let me at least make a record of this journey? This is 100% spicy, am I right?”
Victoria rolled her eyes. There were some people who always had to make a production of everything. She wondered if Dave recorded himself making breakfast just so he could report that to his channel or post it to social media. A lot of her friends from school did that, too.
Liam looked over as if searching for her opinion on the matter. It flattered her whenever he did that, and she appreciated that he saw her as his partner. There was no question Liam was better than her last nightmare of a boyfriend, but he was also a better person than most boyfriends she or her close friends had ever had.
She smiled at him, content to know he understood that smile as saying “I'm cool. Whatever you think.”
Liam gave a small nod and a big grin.
“All right. Go ahead and record.”
Dave jumped in his seat like he'd been given mom's approval to pick out any candy he wanted from the checkout lane.
“Hells to the yeah! I'm back in business.” Dave turned on the camera, which still pointed forward to show the viewers the road. “Greetings fellow travelers, I've got something to show you today. I've just learned that I'm hauling a load of zombies.”
He paused in his dialogue.
“Whoa! Don't bite my head off. Har har. Get it? I didn't know what that last pickup was all about until my friend Lia--Leslie pointed out there is a living person trapped in the back of my trailer. Only then did I find out it is also full of those infected bastards. Scary, right, guys? This is 100% legit BS, right here.”
Liam snapped his fingers while looking at the highway out the front window. “There! See if that bridge has water under it.”
Dave turned around with a smile, then talked to the camera. “That's Leslie again. He comes up with all the good ideas and, uh, he's a little young to be giving orders but he has a look to him, you know guys, like he's been up to his knees in the dead portion of my audience.”
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