Richard tried to smile, but the weariness overwhelmed his face. “That’s what they said, alright. Right before they all went off the air over 2 months ago. Sweetie, I’ve not been sleeping lately. I’ve been trying to raise someone, ANY sane person on that radio, but Andrea… There’s no one out there. No one. I don’t think rescue is coming. I think we’re all that’s left of the world we once knew. The government is gone, the police are gone.”
Andrea’s reassuring smile then crumbled apart, and the tears began to stream down her face. Her breath hitched in her chest as she sobbed loudly. Richard pulled her onto his lap and held her tight to his chest. He ran a hand through her hair, brushing it back, and then placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“Andrea, I’m sorry. I was wrong. There ARE survivors. There’s you and there’s me. That’s all that matters. I love you.”
Andrea lifted her tear-filled gaze to Richard’s, and slowly, as if drawn by some unseen force, their lips met, and they embraced one another passionately as the world seemed to fade around them.
***** ***** *****
“ANDREA! WAKE UP!”
Andrea tumbled from the bed onto the floor and was immediately feeling around in the dark for her baseball bat.
“ARE THEY IN THE HOUSE,” Andrea asked, wide-eyed and shaking.
“No,” Richard said exuberantly, “I heard a military communication! I was in the kitchen getting some food, when I heard a voice coming from the basement. I only caught the last bit, but they were military and they were using some kind of code. I tried to hail them, but they must have hopped off the channel.”
“What does it mean, Richard?”
“We might not have rescuers coming to us, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still get rescued.”
The bat slipped from Andrea’s hand and she threw her arms around him, tears of hope spilling onto Richard’s shirt.
“Listen,” Richard said seriously, pushing back from her slightly. “I’ve been thinking about it all night, and before I caught that transmission, I’d already made up my mind. I know it was hard to leave the West Coast, but I needed that teaching job, so we gave up our little place on the ocean. Every summer, we return. We boat together, we fish together, and even though I’m getting a little grey up top, we even still surf together.”
A gorgeous smile spread across Andrea’s face. Richard found himself getting lost again in those sparkling eyes, but he continued, “The world we knew is gone. We only have a few more months of food left, and after that, we starve. We need a food source, and I still have that spare key to my Brother’s boat and all the gear we’d ever need. Why don’t we load up the RV, and take it back out to Cali one last time? If we’re lucky, we’ll find our rescue, but even if we don’t, we’ll load up the boat, we’ll hit the waves, we’ll watch the sunset every evening, and we’ll live on all the fish we can eat! What do you say, angel?”
“As long as that fish doesn’t come from a can, I’m all for it!”
With a radiant smile, Andrea threw her arms around Richard and hugged him with all she had.
***** ***** *****
“Okay,” Richard said quietly, his hands squeezing Andrea’s reassuringly. “There are only a few of them out there, and they’re far enough away that I think we can pull this off without them even noticing us.”
Andrea shook her head, and then reached down for the box of canned food. They’d made their plans the night before. Each morning, they’d slip out with all the supplies they could carry to the RV, deposit them, and then retreat back to the house. All the things they needed were compiled into 6 loads. If they only slipped out long enough to drop off one load each per morning, they’d be much less likely to draw the attention of the infected meandering down the street. They’d be on the road in three days and on their way to freedom.
The first day’s drop went perfectly.
The second morning got a little hairy when one of the infected noticed them and stumbled down the street towards their RV as they loaded in the boxes.
When he saw the rotted corpse of a woman moving in their direction, Richard sat his box down and reached for the claw hammer in the back of his jeans. The woman was missing most of the left side of her face. Her stomach had been torn open, and ropes of intestine were dragging on the pavement behind her.
Richard moved quickly towards the shambling monster, brought the hammer high above his head, and brought the claw end down swiftly. The skull gave way with a sickening crack, and the woman collapsed to the street below.
Andrea, having loaded the boxes, closed the hatch, and they both retreated back to the house.
On the third day, Richard and Andrea loaded their last two boxes of food into the RV, and as they closed the hatch on the back of the vehicle, Andrea saw a mottled hand reaching for Richard’s shoulder from behind him.
“RICHARD, LOOK OUT!!!”
Richard pivoted just in time to grab the ghoul by its cold and damp wrist, and he flung it hard to the ground. As Richard reached behind him for his hammer, he heard a chorus of groans and snarls coming from the others side of the RV.
Richard quickly glanced around the driver’s side of the RV and saw there were half a dozen or more of the mutilated freaks hobbling quickly towards them.
“Hurry,” Andrea shouted, as she grabbed Richard by the arm and quickly pulled him with her to the passenger side door. She threw open the door and Richard climbed inside and began to climb over to the driver’s seat when he heard Andrea scream.
He whipped his head around just in time to see a young infected teenage boy sinking his teeth into his wife’s exposed arm. Richard leapt forward, grabbing the rotted teen by the throat, trying to pull it off of his wife, but the monster snapped its head back, taking a piece of flesh with it as it tumbled back onto the concrete.
Richard threw his arms around his screaming wife and scooped her up into the RV. He slammed the door and peeled out of the driveway, crushing a number of the shambling ghouls as the RV tore down the road.
“Richard,” Andrea gasped as she stared blankly at the bleeding hole in her arm, “I don’t want to die.”
“You won’t, baby. It’s okay now. We’re on the road. We’ll find the military. They have the cure, right? That’s what they said. They’re gonna make you better. You’re going to be okay. I promise, Andrea. I promise.”
***** ***** *****
Andrea seemed okay for the first half of the day, but by the time the sun began to set, she began sweating and coughing violently. Richard laid her down on the mattress in the back, and continued to drive onward to the coast, all the while, constantly cycling through every station on the dial.
By the next morning, Andrea had taken a turn for the worse. She now ran an intense fever, and she began coughing up blood.
As Richard continued to pilot the RV down the lesser used highways, he came across a massive traffic snarl that had surely been there for months. There were a few infected stumbling about in the distance, but for the most part, all was clear.
To get around the more congested areas, Richard had to pull off into the dirt numerous times, but even though it was slow going, he knew that once they made it to the marina on the coast, that the military would have to be there, that Andrea would be cured, and that they would finally be rescued from this living nightmare.
As he came upon the worst pile up of vehicles he’d seen yet, he aimed for the only gap he could find that was big enough to fit through. He started inching the RV slowly between an overturned semi-trailer and a school bus. He was merely inches away on either side from both of the vehicles as the RV rolled through at a snail’s pace.
He was about halfway through when he saw something that started him shaking and hyperventilating. In every window of the school bus, there were tiny little mutilated and bloated faces pressing hungrily at the bus windows. Tiny little hands with even tinier fingers beat and clawed at the glass as he slowly passed by. Their eyes seemed so filled with violent desire, it shook him to his core.
/> Once he emerged on the other side, he dropped the pedal, and the RV was rocketing faster and faster down this open stretch of highway. Once the bus could no longer be seen in the distance, he pulled to the side of the road.
“Richard,” Andrea said in a heavy and mucous filled voice from the back of the RV, “is everything ok?”
Richard dug the nails of his hand hard and deep into the flesh of his arm, drawing fresh rivulets of blood as he tried his best not to start screaming. He finally took in a long and shaking breath and replied, “Yeah, hon. I… I just need to stretch my legs a bit.”
Richard climbed down from the RV and as soon as his boots hit the pavement, he collapsed into the fetal position, his body silently racked with violent sobs, and tears pouring with such ferocity that he was blinded by the seemingly endless volume.
As he laid there shaking, every muscle clenching in rage, he noticed the body of a female police officer just a few feet away. He saw the bullet wound to the side of her head and the gun still held tightly in her hand, and Richard began to laugh. The easy way out. Why didn’t he think of it sooner? He crawled to the body, picked up the pistol, and held it gingerly in his hands.
Again and again, he pictured it. All he had to do was point the barrel at his temple, slip his finger between the guard and the trigger, and then all it would take was one tiny squeeze. Richard pressed the cold steel against his temple, and his sobs began anew.
Minutes later, Richard climbed back into the RV, stony and numb. He slipped the gun into the waistband of his pants, and he stared into the rearview at his wife tossing and turning in some kind of delirium. His eyes had a glazed and faraway look as he started the engine back up, and they continued to roll on towards the coast.
***** ***** *****
The windshield of the RV became like a television screen as everything that he passed had been touched with that post-apocalyptic decay that he’d only seen before in the big Hollywood blockbusters. He watched in disbelief as he passed the burned out skeletons of the cities he’d once known, still smoldering in the distance. Occasionally he could hear gunfire and would encounter low-power AM radio broadcasts, but the content was terrifying.
Richard drove straight through the remainder of the day, all the while scouring the airwaves for any hopeful signs of life or cities that may have survived the plague unscathed. There were none.
The final broadcast he was able to tune into was a 60-second loop of an angry preacher who explained that the dead were rising from their graves because America had become a depraved, homosexual nation that needed to be cleansed.
It was just a bit before dusk when the RV’s tires left the paved road and rolled into the sand. They had made it. An incredible distance in 2 days, and yet, not one single living soul was ever directly encountered on the roads. Richard felt the tears begin to well up in his eyes again, when Andrea began to shriek.
“RICHARD!!!” Andrea thrashed about in the back of the RV. She’d been coughing up so much blood that most of the mattress was now covered in a crimson spray. She screamed in agony. “IT HURTS! RICHARD, IT HURTS!”
Richard knelt down beside her and placed a hand on her forehead. She was so hot that it almost hurt the palm of his hand. Her eyes were dark and sunken and there were black veins spider-webbing out from the wound in her arm, all the way up her shoulder and neck.
“Richard,” she spoke through gritted teeth, “don’t let me come back. Promise me. Please Richard. Please.”
“It’s okay, honey,” Richard whispered gently in her ear. “We’re here.”
Richard gently lifted her from the bed and carried her from the RV out towards the waves that lapped lazily against the shore.
The sky was a brilliant pink and orange as the setting sun embraced the ocean’s endless horizon.
Richard trudged slowly into the waves, clutching Andrea close to him. As the cool water flowed around them, Andrea’s eyes opened and she stared out at the sun as it quietly descended into the ocean.
Richard brushed the hair from her face and just watched in awe as those beautiful eyes seemed to light up and sparkle just like the first time he saw them across a crowded room. He leaned down, and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.
Andrea turned her face to Richard’s, and as the tears began to fall, she began to smile. “I’m ready.”
Richard began to weep openly as their fingers entwined.
“I love you, Richard.”
“I love you too, Andrea.”
Richard then leaned down and softly pressed his lips to hers one last time.
A flock of birds soared gracefully overhead in perfect symmetry, but scattered in a dozen directions as the gunshot reverberated loudly into the distance.
Richard then carefully laid his love down into the rolling waves until the tide took her from his arms. He stood in the surging waters and watched as the current carried her out to sea.
A sudden wave sent Richard tumbling backwards. His knees gave out and he collapsed into the muddy sand, the water lapping at his chest. He just sat there and watched Andrea’s form as it drifted further and further into the distance. Eventually she was so small, that she was merely a dot on the horizon, disappearing at the place where the water met the last rays of the setting sun.
A second shot rang out and Richard joined his wife in eternity.
Flight 124
“Air Thailand 124 to LAX. Requesting ambulance to runway 7 for arrival at 1900 hours.”
Mike was half asleep, nearing the end of his shift and watching the dancing dots of light on the radar screen, when his ears perked up at the word “ambulance.” He adjusted his headset, and spoke clearly into the microphone, “This is LAX. Air Thai 124. Please repeat request.”
“Air Thailand 124 to LAX,” the transmission crackled in Mike’s headset. “I repeat. Requesting ambulance to runway 7 for arrival at 1900 hours. Over.”
Mike was wide awake now. He figured it was just someone with chest pains, but keeping people safe was the point of Air Traffic Controllers. Mike spoke slowly into the headset, “Captain, please ID. Over.”
“Roger, Roger,” the headset chirped back, and immediately a wide smile spread across Mike’s face.
“I thought that sounded like you, Roger,” Mike said with a grin. “You know you have the worst name for pilot I’ve ever heard, right?”
“Sorry Mike,” Roger replied laughingly through the headset. “Met a pilot outta Newfoundland. Last name Deadmen. Had to advise him to use his first name only when talking to the passengers and crew.”
Mike laughed heartily until his eyes began to water. He’d known Roger since WAY back. They’d actually met in flight school. They’d flown together on many training runs, had a fair number of drunken nights together prowling the town for young, eligible bachelorettes on their nights off, and even ended up as roommates for a year of their lives.
Mike had trained for 2 years to be a pilot, but when he had a seizure, that was it. Only takes one of those and you’re out of pilot school for good. It was really hard at the time, as all Mike had ever wanted was to fly above the clouds, but he was dedicated to his passion, and after a few months of contemplating his future, he went back to flight school, only THIS time, he studied to be an air traffic controller.
Mike had been given a nice promotion just a few years back after helping to land a plane without landing gear. That one had been the nail biter of the century, but when all was said and done, there were only a few minor injuries and not a single death.
No fatalities. This was Mike’s greatest accomplishment. He’d gotten every last flight safely to the earth, and every last passenger that had yet been under his watch, made it safe to their destinations.
Mike spoke into his headset, “Roger, feel free to cut the code words. Lay it out for me. What are we looking at here? Heart attack?”
“Don’t think so, Mike. Think it might be food poisoning, or possibly a severe case of the flu. He’s been vomiting blood though. Seems ser
ious. Thought about diverting for a minute there, but figured the most I could shave off was a couple minutes, and honestly, LAX has their emergency staff trained better than most, and also, I couldn’t hit LA without getting a drink with an old friend.”
Mike laughed. “Roger that!”
Roger’s laughter erupted over the headset.
Mike took on a more serious tone, “Roger, you keep me informed if anything else goes wrong. Ambulance will meet you on the tarmac at 1900. Over and out.”
Mike put in a call to the emergency response team, and then went to the break room to get a coffee. Roger was in for the night after this flight, and according to his schedule wasn’t back behind the stick till tomorrow afternoon. Mike eyeballed the clock on the wall.
He hadn’t seen Roger since he married that pretty little thing he’d met in South Korea 2 years ago. They were in love. That much was plain to everyone at the wedding. Roger ended up moving to South Korea to live with her, and now other than picking him up in the chatter, or the occasional email, they almost never spoke.
Mike had just picked up a slightly dodgy looking cruller from that morning’s doughnut box, when his co-controller came barging into the room.
“Sir, we’ve got problems with Air Thai 124.”
Mike pitched the remainder of his coffee break in the trash as he sprinted out onto the main traffic controller floor. He slid into his command chair, popped on his headset, and began speaking immediately.
“Air Thai 124, this is LAX, what’s your status?”
“LAX, this Air Thailand. We’ve got a possible contagion aboard this flight. Requesting CDC quarantine protocol 12 be implemented. Need all available medical personnel on deck at 1900 hours.”
The blood ran out of Mike’s face when he heard the word “quarantine.” He spoke slowly into his headset “Roger, what’s the situation?”
“I have locked myself inside the cockpit and am flying solo. I’ve enforced quarantine protocol 12.”
“Roger,” Mike said with a shaking in his voice, “did you say you are flying solo?”
RIZEN: Tales of the Zombie Apocalypse Page 3