by Kirk Withrow
Three houses away.
Ava saw the mangled body of the infected thing crushed in the street in front of the Taylor’s house. She noticed that the garage door was open.
Two houses away.
Several more of the infected lay sprawled haphazardly in the yards they passed. Ava tried not to look at them, but those she saw appeared to have been bludgeoned to death, their deformed and cracked skulls oozing a dark, soupy mixture that looked like black cherry Jell-O dotted with chunks of rotten banana.
One house away.
Breathing hard in anticipation, Ava wanted to stop. The fear of finally reaching her house and finding no one there elbowed its way past everything else in her mind, claiming the dominant position as the king of the hill. A sliver of the pain she knew she would feel if they found the house empty seared through her brain, and it was almost more than she could handle. Ava, you have to do this. He’s there. You saw him. You can do it. Allowing herself no more time to debate the issue, she forced herself to keep moving.
1406 Hood Street.
Lydia eased onto the porch, eyes ever vigilant to their surroundings. She did not see or hear any sign of trouble, which in and of itself, bothered her. Peering through the windows of the house, she saw no movement and motioned for the two girls to join her on the porch. Lydia grasped the doorknob, and to her surprise, found the door unlocked. Glancing at Ava, Lydia gave her a reassuring nod as she turned the knob.
At first glance, the house seemed largely as Ava remembered it, despite not having been there in quite some time. The blood smeared on the door as well as splattered about the foyer was dried to a dark, ruddy brown that no longer held the savagery she witnessed that day. Nevertheless, it served as a painful reminder that caused the events to flash through her mind like stills taken from a bad slasher film. Ava immediately noticed the absence of the rug in the foyer, as well as the deliveryman’s corpse that was featured so prominently in her mind’s eye.
Cautiously, the trio crept deeper inside the apparently empty house. The eerie silence within proved to be almost as unsettling as the bumps and creaks that seemed like telltale signs of death lurking in the shadows. Quietly, Lydia called, “Hello? Anyone here?”
They paused and waited for a reply but heard nothing. Moving into the living room, Ava pointed to a sheet crumpled into a pile on the couch. Lydia nodded in acknowledgement of the implications of the used bedding.
Continuing into the dining room, they saw further evidence that someone had been in the home, though it was hard to say how recently. An empty jar of instant coffee, as well as shredded packaging from other food items, lay strewn about the table. Despite the confirmation that someone had clearly been there, her dismay at not finding her father waiting with open arms threatened to crush her aching soul.
Rooted to the spot, Ava stared at the closed door leading out of the opposite side of the room. As they edged toward the door, Lydia sensed that Ava was not following them. Glancing back, she saw the little girl standing motionless with a terror-stricken look etched across her face. Immediately concerned by the change in her demeanor, Lydia crossed the room to where she stood, hoping to uncover the cause of Ava’s alarm. Seeing nothing of concern within the room, Lydia asked, “What is it, sweetie? Did you hear something?”
After a pause, Ava shook her head as she raised her hand to point at the door; the frightened look never left her face. At once, understanding blossomed in Lydia’s mind, and she realized why the little girl was so petrified. She told Annalee to stay with Ava before moving to the kitchen door. Mindful to shield the room beyond from Ava’s view, Lydia pushed the swinging door open and slid into the room. She remained in the kitchen for nearly a minute, during which time Ava did not take a breath.
When Lydia emerged from the room moments later, Ava half-expected her to have the monstrous form of her dead mother in tow. The slight smile creasing Lydia’s otherwise worried face made Ava let out the breath she had been holding. Tears flowed down Lydia’s cheeks as she pushed the door wide open, urging Ava forward with a reassuring smile and a nod of her head. Simultaneously comforted and confused by Lydia’s comportment, Ava found herself walking forward slowly. Dread and intrigue flourished inside her in equal measures.
Ava’s eyes were closed as her foot slid over the threshold leading into the kitchen. Vague flashes of light flickered behind her shuttered eyelids, keeping perfect time with the hammering thrum of her heart as the blood roared through her ears. As if a calming spirit descended upon her, Ava felt the anxious reluctance that was the glue keeping her eyes clamped so tightly, steadily weaken. Ever so slowly, as though wanting to ensure that an unpleasant scene in a scary movie had passed before fully committing, her eyes opened to reveal the room before her.
Dumbfounded, Ava saw no hint of the atrocities that occurred in the kitchen a month ago. There was not a speck of blood in the room, as if a crime scene cleaning crew had swept through taking every trace of the unspeakable act with them. Aside from the shattered window, the room looked nearly the same as it had every morning when she had come down for breakfast. Her relief at not having to bear witness to the gruesome evidence of what her mother had become, and of what she had been forced to do, could not be put into words. It was short-lived, however, when she realized there was still no sign of her father. He was here! I know it. He had to be the one that took care of Mommy. The thought made Ava shudder, and she worried about what her father would think if he knew the truth about what had happened.
Tears threatened to fill her eyes as her glassy stare settled on something jutting vertically from the ground beyond the back door window. She stepped toward the door to get a better look. As she did, a gentle breeze blew into the room through the broken window. The swirling current nudged a small piece of paper from whatever nook it had been hiding in, sending it fluttering to the floor. Ava stooped down and retrieved the slip of paper. She trembled uncontrollably as the tears she had been struggling to control surged against her eyelids, spilling over the edge, and running down her face. Through the blinding tears, she read the note she held in her quivering hands.
Ava,
Where are you, sweetie? I know in my heart you are out there somewhere—alive. I’ve been searching for you day and night since my return. I imagine you already know what happened to your mother. I buried her in the backyard. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry for everything you have seen, and for everything that’s happened to you. The world has become a cruel and dangerous place, Ava.
I am with some new friends who have been helping me search for you. I hope you are not alone. Remember, not everyone you meet is good! When you see people, be cautious. If possible, watch them first to make sure they aren’t bad. You are such a smart girl, I’m sure you have figured out how the infection is spread but I’ll say it anyway: don’t get near the infected, and whatever you do, don’t let them bite you! If anyone you are with is bitten, stay away! They will not be the same person you know for long. You must understand and accept that.
Do you remember my old friend, Dr. Lin San? It’s been quite a few years since you have seen her. She called me the night I got back and said she was being flown to the CDC in Atlanta. That’s the Centers for Disease Control. She indicated that she has information that might help her find a cure. I am telling you all of this to say that I am heading there to help her try to stop this god-awful plague. Deciding to go to Atlanta has been the hardest decision I have ever made. In no way am I giving up on you! But I can’t imagine you growing up in a world like this. We will stop this damn thing, and I will find you. If you are with people who are willing and capable of travel, find us there. If not, stay safe, sweetheart. I will come back for you! I love you so much! I miss you with all my heart!
I love you more than you will ev…
Dad
Although the entire letter was dotted with dried tears, the last line was rendered completely illegible, presumably by the torrent pouring from her father’s eyes as
he wrote the gut-wrenching words. Cheeks saturated and eyes rimmed with red, she handed the letter to Lydia. Annalee draped her arm over Ava’s shoulder as Lydia read the letter aloud.
Despite having never met John Wild and knowing Ava for less than a day, Lydia was certain she had never read anything so sad and heartfelt in her entire life. As she thought of them both, she was not sure who had it worse—John not knowing for certain his daughter was alive, or Ava knowing her father was alive but being unable to reunite with him. In truth both sounded horrible, but she reminded herself that they both still had a chance.
Lydia wondered if what Ava’s father said about the possibility of a cure held any real potential. If it did, she knew she wanted to be a part of it. If there was anything she could do to make this wretched plague pay for what it had done to Lonnie, she knew without a doubt she would do it—no matter the cost. As she looked at Ava, still sobbing in Annalee’s embrace, she vowed she would do whatever she could to reunite her with her father. I am so tired of this damn plague and how it destroys everything in its path! It may be too late for Annalee and me, but it’s not too late for Ava. I will not sit idly and let it destroy her as well!
Sniffing hard and wiping her eyes, Lydia swallowed the massive lump forming in her throat. “When do you girls want to leave for Atlanta?”
19
October 4, 2015
Cobb County, GA
Sergeant Garza peered through the window, cautiously scanning the dark landscape for any sign of movement. Although he saw no evidence of the shooter, he knew he was still out there. Garza knew he shot him, but he also knew it was not a fatal hit. Given the cover provided by the overgrown field, Garza doubted he would be able to see the shooter even in broad daylight. “The coast looks clear, but he may still be out there waiting for us to make a move,” Garza said.
“You’re certain there was only one man?” General Montes asked.
“I only saw one, but there might be more. Although I would expect that if there were others, they would have made themselves known when I attacked him. I still can’t figure out why someone would come after you guys in the first place. I mean, I’ve worked with some ace snipers in my time, and even though this guy isn’t on par with them, he’s no slouch. I think he is either military or former military, probably U.S.,” Garza said.
General Montes considered his words thoughtfully. As far as he knew, the only people with any knowledge of their presence in the United States were a few high-ranking Brazilian and U.S. officials, and he could not see how either of them would be involved—if they were even still alive. Regardless, the situation made him question whom he could really trust. When he considered Sergeant Garza, the fact that he saved them on two separate occasions made General Montes feel as though he could be trusted. He reasoned that if Garza were going to take them out, he could have already done so. With Corporal Rocha and the rest of my men gone, I’m going to need all the help I can get to see Dr. San safely to Atlanta.
After a long pause, General Montes finally spoke, “So what do you think our best course of action is at this point, Sergeant? We are roughly twenty-five miles from the facility in Atlanta. Our resources are severely limited, and we know very little about the conditions between here and there. I realize we are from different countries, and I have no authority over you. So I would like to ask you—one soldier to another—will you help me get Dr. San to the CDC? You know this area well, and as far as I know, you and I may be the only two soldiers of any kind left alive here.”
It was Sergeant Garza’s turn to reflect on the General’s words, and he did not wait long before returning his answer. Thrusting his hand out, he looked General Montes in the eye, and said, “I’m in. I’ll do what I can to help you get the doctor into the city.”
For the next several hours, the two men watched the area outside the store, looking for any sign of danger. Neither Garza nor Montes saw anything to indicate the shooter was still in the vicinity. Turning to General Montes, Garza said, “I think I should go out and scout the area. We need to know it’s clear before we move Dr. San. I don’t know if she’s the target, but we shouldn’t take any chances.”
“Agreed. You slip out the back, and I’ll keep watch from here,” Montes said.
He scanned the waist-high grass looking for any sign of movement, as Garza carefully stalked toward the location where he encountered the shooter. He knew he was close when he saw the divot made by his body colliding with the damp ground. As he listened intently to the world around him, he was struck by how quiet and peaceful the scene of the violent altercation was.
Crawling several more feet, Garza emerged into the haphazard clearing created by the previous scuffle. While much of the grass had been trampled, many of the remaining stalks bowed under the weight of dried blood. A large, dark stain glistened on the muddy ground, indicating that the shooter had lost a great deal of blood. Garza followed a trail of droplets that extended several feet in the opposite direction before it dwindled and dried up all together. He must have dressed the wound, which means he had the necessary supplies and training. Who the hell is this guy?
Backtracking to the clearing, Garza caught a glint of sunlight reflecting off something in the grass. He scooped up a spent shell casing that was headstamped with LC 13 and the NATO cross. 7.62—U.S. M80 ball ammo. This deepened his suspicion about the shooter being U.S. military, though he knew the ammo was readily available on the civilian market. Despite a careful search of the rest of the area for any clue as to the identity of the shooter, he came up empty. Aside from the shell casing, the only thing he found was a small flashlight he had dropped during the struggle. Sliding the casing and light into his pocket, Garza realized that his military identification card was missing. He wondered if that meant the shooter now knew who he was, and whether that even mattered anymore.
Upon returning, Garza informed General Montes of what he had found, and the two men spent the majority of the remaining daylight hours digging a grave for Corporal Rocha. After they laid Rocha to rest, Lin placed the little unicorn suncatcher atop his burial site. “Go, and be with your wife and little girl, Corporal Rocha. I know they miss you very much. We will too,” Lin said with tears flowing down her face.
Not wanting to chance the shooter returning with reinforcements, they decided it would be best to leave while there was still a little daylight left. General Montes helped Lin into the LSSV, hoping she didn’t notice the blood and gore covering the outside of the vehicle. Although they knew they would not get far before nightfall, they set out toward Atlanta once again.
Having been awake and watching over Dr. San and Corporal Rocha for nearly thirty-six hours, General Montes took the back seat to get some much-needed sleep while Garza drove. Lin sat silently in the front seat, staring out the window as the ruins of America passed by. Although Garza very much wanted to talk with her, he felt it might come across as disrespectful or insincere if he were to interrupt whatever she was mulling over in her mind.
Sensing his gaze upon her, Lin cast a furtive glance in his direction. They shared a brief, awkward silence before a flutter in the pit of her stomach made her turn back to the window. Confused by her abrupt reaction, Garza worried she had picked up on the uneasy tension that had him feeling like a middle school boy trying to get to first base.
For her part, Lin was also caught off-guard by the intense feeling, and soon found herself overwhelmed with emotion. Her mind drifted to thoughts of Corporal Rocha and all the others that had died since they left Brazil. The self-doubt that so often plagued her reared its head with renewed vengeance. Just as it had in the past, the death of someone close to her gave her the strength and determination she needed to wrestle it back down. Refusing to let Rocha’s death go unanswered, Lin planned to channel her anger just as she had after her brother’s death. She vowed to do everything in her power to stop LNV.
From the driver’s seat, Garza could not help but wonder what Lin was thinking about as she stared out the wind
ow. Strangely, he found himself attracted to her despite the fact that she was filthy, exhausted, and unkempt. It was strange because she was far from the typical boisterous, curvy, fiery Hispanic women he usually fell for; not that he was falling for her. After all, they were fighting for their lives in the middle of the apocalypse, and she was likely the best chance of stopping the LNV plague before complete human extinction. Hardly the time or place to be thinking about such things… Even so, he remembered his relief when he entered the old convenience store and found her alive and well. The panic he felt upon hearing her blood-curdling scream infused him with almost superhuman powers, like a mother who is suddenly able to lift a car off of her pinned child. That must mean something, right? I don’t know. Maybe I would have felt that way no matter who had been inside.
As night drew nearer, Garza spotted a suitable building to hole up in for the night. Even though they had travelled fewer than ten miles, the old warehouse with the well-concealed loading dock located behind it appeared to be an ideal place to stop. After parking the truck, Garza made certain it was concealed from the prying eyes of anyone who might pass along the road in front of the building. He and Montes did a quick sweep of the interior and found it to be free of the infected. In fact, part of the reason Garza had chosen the building was that he had not seen any significant infected presence in the surrounding area.
They set up camp on the building’s second floor, where Garza prepared an overwatch position by kicking out one of the boards covering a front window located close to the floor. While Montes and Lin sorted through their limited supplies and provisions, Garza set up a few rudimentary perimeter alarms using the tried-and-true method of stretching a length of thin wire across the walkways at knee height. Rather than affix tin cans or other metal debris to the line, as he would have if his primary concern were the infected, he devised a slightly more conspicuous and elaborate tripwire.