A World Apart (Part 1): 8,000 Miles

by Sean P. Thomas

  Jerry shook his head, then turned right, onto a street that headed east. Left would have taken them into the city and straight would have taken them back to the impassible interstate. The route they were on now hugged a large neighborhood, full of cookie cutter model homes, on the left side and nothing but open, flat terrain on the right. Random zombies were found on the road, they had likely wandered out from the adjacent neighborhood. Jerry noticed that a couple of the monsters were once children. He looked at Sam sitting next him and felt saddened. He was glad that Sam was safe thus far, but couldn’t help but feel sorrow for those children and their families. After about a mile, they passed the last houses of the neighborhood and the road continued into open, unoccupied land.

  Jerry wanted to go north as soon as possible, now that they were obviously on the far outskirts of the east side of Las Cruces. He got his chance in about a mile after passing the last house of the neighborhood. He saw that there was a road that led off to the north. He could see several large buildings and a football field off the west side of the north bound road. Jerry turned onto the road, and as he approached the cluster of buildings, he saw a large sign for a high school. Jerry had every intention of driving straight past the high school and finding a way back to the interstate, but as he drove past he saw something in his peripheral that caught his eye. There was a teenaged boy running across the front of the school property. Jerry stopped the truck and watched the boy. He disappeared around the side of the main building.

  “What is it?” Angie asked.

  “I just saw a teenager run behind that building.” Jerry said.

  “You sure it wasn’t a zombie?” She asked him.

  “Hell no it wasn’t a zombie.” Jerry answered her. “He was running like the wind. Guess we scared him.”

  “Well, we have to go and try to find him.” Angie told her father-in-law. “I’m not going to leave a young boy out her alone, to starve. I can’t have that on my conscience.”

  “You’re right.” He agreed. “I’ll get Alex and we can go in on foot to look for him. The rest of you should stay here with the vehicles. It might not be safe and we might have to leave in a hurry.”

  “Alright,” Angie said, “be careful.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Jerry said.

  Jerry got out of the truck and walked to the passenger side of the SUV. Alex saw him coming and got out to see what he needed.

  “What’s up Jerry?” Alex asked.

  “I saw a teenaged boy run around the side of that high school.” Jerry told him. “Angie and I thought it would be bad karma if we didn’t make an effort to find him, see if he needs help. I thought you might help me look for him while the rest stay here with the vehicles.”

  “Sure,” Alex said, “I need to stretch my legs anyway. Let me grab my rifle.”

  Jerry and Alex moved cautiously towards the front of the high school. The front entrance had been boarded up. They continued across the front of the building, intent on the corner in which Jerry had seen the boy disappear. When they reached the corner, Jerry peaked around. Nothing. Just another long stretch of the building wall that led to the back of the main building. The area was surprisingly free of any zombies. Jerry and Alex continued their search, hugging the wall and heading for the next corner of the building. Every few feet there was a window. These had been boarded up like the front entrance. Someone had done this post-apocalypse, because Jerry was certain that this was a functional school before the dead started walking, it was too new to be otherwise. There were gaps in the wooden planks over the windows that allowed Jerry to peek inside, but the rooms were totally dark. He could see enough to tell that they were classrooms though. Halfway across the side of the building, they had to walk around a large metal tank that was full of water.

  As they reached the next corner of the building, Jerry started to look around. He was met with a pistol that was pointed to his head. It wasn’t the teenager he had seen before, but a grown man with a stern look on his face.

  “Drop the weapon.” The man ordered. “Tell your friend to do the same.”

  Jerry and Alex lowered their weapons to the ground. Jerry couldn’t help but think about the fate they had just escaped from the cement factory.

  CHAPTER 23

  John and the others were traveling northwest for about an hour when he decided to pull off the road. He knew from the maps that they were about another hour from Highway-1, and that there was a major intersection there, right next to an Afghan base. It used to be a Marine Corps base called FOB Delaram, that was turned over to the Afghan Army a few years back. It was a decent sized base and would have fairly populated before the apocalypse had begun. He didn’t know what they were going to encounter there, and he didn’t want to find out when the sun would be going down soon. John thought it would be best if they made camp here out in the middle of nowhere. He figured there probably wasn’t a single zombie for many miles from their current location.

  John opened his door and jumped down to the ground. He walked back to the supply truck and then the fuel truck, and shared his plan to stop for the night with the rest of the group. After everyone was briefed, he walked in front of the fuel truck and motioned for Shelly to follow him. He guided the fuel truck about one hundred feet off the side of the road and perpendicular to it. He held his arm up and made a fist, the hand signal for stop in the military. He faced Shelly and motioned with another hand signal, this time holding his hand flat and parallel to the ground, then motioning with his ajoined fingers across his neck, like a blade. To a civilian, this signal would probably read as ‘you are dead meat’, but in the military, it simply meant to shut off the vehicle. John moved to the front of the supply truck next, and guided it off the road as well. Using similar hand and arm signals, John positioned the truck in such a way that it created a forty-five-degree angle with the fuel truck. Then he jogged back to his own truck and moved it over to the other two. He positioned it so that it formed a ninety-degree angle with the supply truck and a forty-five-degree angle with the fuel truck, creating a perfect triangle of opened space in the middle of the three vehicles.

  Everyone exited their respective vehicles and they worked as a team to unload some of the supplies they would need to make camp. Damien and George unloaded six cots and started assembling them in a circle in the open space. John and Shelly pulled down a case of MREs and their sleeping gear. Ed climbed in the back of the supply truck and started taking apart a couple of ammo crates. They were made of wood and bound by metal wire; each crate held two large ammunition cans. After he removed four ammo cans from two of the crates, he left the cans in the truck and climbed out of the truck with the wooden crates. Once on the ground, he proceeded to pull the crates apart using his feet and hands. Then he brought all the pieces of wood to the center of the cots and made a fire pit. He surrounded the wood with large rocks. There was no shortage of rocks. While the others were busy with their separate tasks to prepare the camp, Susan just leaned against the side of one of the trucks and watched them work. This earned her more than a few sideways glances, especially from Shelly.

  By the time they had the camp set up and the fire burning in the pit, it was dark. George had volunteered for first watch and was in the gunner’s hatch in the MaxxPro, scanning the terrain on the outside of their camp for any signs of danger. He mostly focused on the north and south approaches of the road, but every once in a while, looked off into the desert too. Damien had slipped off to the outside of the truck perimeter with a water can. He was still covered in the blood and guts of the exploding zombies. John and Shelly were busy opening up several MREs. Shelly claimed that she had a great recipe for stew by combining the contents of several different MREs, and she had volunteered to make them all dinner. John was giving her a hand. Susan was sitting on her cot, completely ignoring the others. She always seemed to be in a mood. Ed was quiet too, which was a side they had not often seen of him. He was sitting on the edge of his cot and reading a piece of paper he had pulled fr
om his pocket. It had several well-worn creases in it, as if it had been folded and unfolded many times. He read the words on the paper to himself.

  Dear Nathan,

  My son. I know we left things in a bad place before I left for Afghanistan. It was all my fault, I realize that now. I should have never reacted the way I did. I should have been more understanding, less ignorant. I’m so sorry son. I fear I will never get to tell you this in person, tell you what an ass I was, tell you how much I love you. I am praying every day that I get to see you again, tell you this in person, but that all seems very unlikely now. It seems impossible that I will make it home with all that is going on. I don’t even have a clue if you are safe, surviving, but I hope that you are. Ultimately, I hope that you are happy, that’s all that I want for you son. If by some miracle you are reading this, please forgive me for my actions. Know that my final days were full of regret, for the way that I treated you. I love you so damn much son. Be safe, be happy, and know that you are the most important thing in the world to me. I love you, son.

  Love,

  Dad

  After reading the letter several times, he folded it back up and stowed it safely in his pocket. He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked up. John was watching him, but quickly looked away when Ed looked up.

  “Shelly girl,” Ed said, “you almost done there? I’m starving.” He said with a smile.

  A few moments later, after Damien had returned to the camp, as clean as he could get, the group settled down to eat their meal. Shelly had taken a plate up to George, and was back with the others. They ate their food and held idle conversation. They actually felt like things were normal, if only for the time being. It was nice. None of them had really had the time to get to know each other very well, not really. They knew each other from the perspective of personality, quirks, etcetera, but they didn’t know anything intimate.

  John wanted to know what was up with the piece of paper that Ed was reading earlier. It wasn’t the first time he had seen him pull that thing out of his pocket, read it, then put it back again. They didn’t have many moments of reprieve since he had joined them, but on the few occasions that they had, Ed had performed the same ritual.

  “Ed.” John said, to get his attention.

  “What’s up John?” Ed asked.

  “If this is too personal, please just tell me to mind my own business,” John began, “but I am curious about the paper I see you reading all the time. Every time we have a moment of peace, I see you reading that paper. Whatever it says, you must know each word to the letter by now.”

  “It’s okay John.” Ed told him. “It’s a letter I wrote for my son, after all this started. We had a pretty big falling out, right before I left for this deployment.” Ed explained to the others. “You know, I always thought I was one of the most tolerant people on this planet, but when it comes to your own flesh and blood, I guess we lose sight. You see, the thing was, my son revealed to me that he was gay, three days before I was getting on the plane. I never cared if people were gay, as long as they were happy, but somehow, I didn’t apply the same standards to my own son, not in that moment. I flew off the handle. I didn’t for one second, consider if he was happy, or appreciate that he trusted me enough to share it with me. I was selfish. All I could think about was that my son was gay, my son! I was so wrong.”

  Ed paused for a moment. It seemed as if he was lost for a moment in his own regret. Then he started talking again.

  “We argued for some time. It wasn’t civil at all. He left without a goodbye. I don’t blame him for that. I didn’t see him again before I left, I haven’t talked to him once since. I thought about it a lot during the deployment, realized my fault pretty early on, but figured we would patch things up once I was home. Now I realize I will most likely never have the chance, and it tears me up inside. I wrote this letter after the everything fell apart, just in case I don’t make it home. Like the rest of you, I have hope that this zombie situation is under control back home. I wrote this letter so that one of you can take it to my son if I don’t make it. I realize that outcome hinges on a lot of variables, but there it is. I read it every night, to remind myself of what an ass I was and to remind myself what is at stake here if we aren’t successful in getting home. That’s it, that’s the story. Now that you know, I want to you all to promise me, if I don’t make it, one of you will take this letter from my corpse and do your best to get it to my son. I don’t want him to die, believing that his old man ever stopped loving him. Please do that for me.” Ed finished.

  John and the others felt saddened by Ed’s story, except for Susan, she seemed indifferent. Shelly moved to Ed and sat next to him on his cot. She put her arm around his neck and gave him a kiss on his cheek. John was the first to speak after they heard his story.

  “Of course, we will.” John assured Ed. “Don’t dwell on it Ed. We all make mistakes, we all say things to our loved ones that we wished we hadn’t. I’m sure your son knows that you love him. I’m certain of it. It will all work out. We are going to make it home.” John tried to comfort him with his assurances. “It’s getting late.” He said then. “I have to go relieve George on guard. The rest of you should get some rest.”

  John got up and walked over to the MaxxPro and started to climb up on top to relieve George in the turret. Shelly remained next to Ed for a while before going to her own cot to get some sleep. After the rest of the group had settled into their cots, Ed pulled the letter out once more. He read it one more time. He laid back on his cot, cradling the letter to his chest, and soon fell asleep.

  CHAPTER 24

  It had been longer than Angie was comfortable with since Jerry and Alex had disappeared around the side of the school. She was starting to get worried. She wanted to jump out of the truck and go looking for them, but she couldn’t, she had to stay here and keep Sam safe. She thought about asking Derek, or Kyle, or both to go, but that would also be counterintuitive to keeping Sam safe. They were only a couple of miles from the zombie infested Las Cruces, and this was an obvious bypass route for any other travelers that might find themselves staring at the bedsheet sign hanging from the overpass that diverted them here. Angie felt safer with Derek there and she certainly didn’t want to leave Karen and Grace alone in the SUV. She decided that there wasn’t much left to do but wait, so she suppressed her fears and tried to be patient, though she couldn’t take her eye off the corner of the high school.

  ***

  The man that had held the gun to Jerry’s head was accompanied by another man. The man with the gun was wearing dark blue slacks, scuffed dress shoes, and a white t-shirt. Around his waist, he was wearing a large black belt with various pouches and an empty holster. It looked like a police officer’s typical duty belt. The other man was wearing grey slacks, brown dress shoes, a dress shirt that was unbuttoned and untucked, and a white t-shirt under that. He was armed with an aluminum baseball bat. They guided Jerry and Alex further around the school to a door. So far, the two men hadn’t tried to tie them up or anything; Jerry was thankful for that. They had only disarmed them and then started moving them towards the door without saying too much. One of the men opened the door and the man with the gun ushered them inside. It was darker inside, but Jerry could see well enough. They were in a long hallway with tiled floors and lockers lining the walls on both sides. Every ten feet or so, there was a closed door that likely led to a classroom of some sort. The men led Jerry and Alex past all the closed doors and to an intersection in the hallway. Here there was a stairwell to the right, and another hallway to the left, and the hallway they were in continued straight ahead. One of their captors was leading the way, while the other walked behind Jerry and Alex, with his pistol trained on their backs. The lead man took them into the stairwell and up the stairs.

  Once they reached the top, they took a direct route to a pair of wooden doors that were closed. There was a long, thin window on each door, but Jerry couldn’t see through, there was paper that covered the window
s from the inside. Jerry thought they were about to enter the double doors, but as they got close, the man in front stopped and looked back to his partner.

  The man in the blue slacks came around from behind them. “Put your backs to that wall there.” He said, pointing to the wall on the right side of the doorway.

  Jerry and Alex did as they were instructed. The man that was leading the way turned around then, and disappeared through the double doors, leaving his partner to watch the prisoners. The man with the gun moved to the wall opposite Jerry and Alex and put his back to it, keeping a watchful eye, and his gun, on the two captives. Jerry noticed that the man looked uncomfortable. He was seemed different, much different, than the men who had taken them at the cement factory. Those men were confident, comfortable with their debauchery, but this man didn’t seem to like the idea of holding a gun on them. Jerry suspected that these might be a different sort of people, perhaps acting out of caution. He looked to Alex, standing next to him, and didn’t like what he saw. Alex was staring at the man with derisive determination. The vein in his neck was sticking out and his muscles were taut. Jerry was afraid that Alex might try something. He didn’t blame Alex, after everything they had experienced with the last group of people who held them at gunpoint, but he thought this situation was going to be very different, and was afraid that Alex was about to make a move for the man’s gun.