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Preservation - 03

Page 14

by Phillip Tomasso


  She stared at me. Our eyes were locked. Both of us had tears. “I want this all to be over, Dad. I can’t keep on going like this.”

  Fourteen, and she was at the end of her rope.

  Then again, so was I. “We can do this, honey. We’re going to make it through this.”

  She used the back of her wrist to wipe away the tears. “I just don’t know if I want to.”

  # # #

  It was not a super expensive restaurant. I’d made reservations, though. The idea of hitting a Red Robin for gourmet burgers and bottomless fries appealed more to me, but I figured I’d better step it up just a bit. While I’d done a bit of dating since Julie divorced me, nothing lasted beyond a few dates, or a month at most. I’m sure it was my fault. Plenty of the women had psycho issues. Red flags popped up like fireworks for many of them. Still, a lot of the issues rested on me, my shoulders.

  It was true I focused on unimportant aspects of the relationships, perhaps put too much emphasis on sex, and not any on building a friendship. Allison was different. I didn’t want to blow it from the start. So I changed my game.

  I didn’t think going for burgers on a first date would have been detrimental, but with her, I wanted to play it more safely. It was not a black tie affair, but I wore charcoal grey dress pants with a matching necktie, and cleaners-pressed soft blue-grey shirt. I had to hit a store in the mall for new dress shoes, and went old school with wingtips.

  The table was set for two. We were in the center of the place. I understood which fork to use, and all of that. We ordered the surf and turf with soup and salads. Allison looked beautiful. She’d worn her hair down, and smiled most of the night. Conversation was somewhat forced, although I couldn’t remember anything said. The one thing I remember most was making her laugh. A lot.

  After my salad, the waitress took my plate with my salad fork. Some of the salad pieces had been large, and I’d cut them up to keep from looking like an animal while eating.

  “Oh, wait, wait,” I said. “I still need my knife!”

  I pronounced it with a hard “K.” Ka-nife, and retrieved it from the plate as she’d lifted it off the table.

  The whole restaurant must have heard me. Allison laughed so hard, she’d snorted. That embarrassed her. I loved it. From that point on, the date was not forced. I didn’t kiss her that night. I didn’t want to ruin a good thing. It seemed like she wanted me to, looked a little disappointed when I left her at her front step and went back to my car after a simple hug and a whisper, “Good night.”

  And now, I helped Dave. Charlene had the walk-in freezer door open. We’d wrapped Alley as best we could in tablecloths. I held her under the arms and head. Dave gripped the legs. We set her down on the floor. It seemed wrong. She deserved a burial. We’d taken the time to bury our lost since day one. Allison did not belong locked away in a school freezer but there were far too many zombies still outside. There was no chance of digging a plot. Not today. Not right now. It was why we were putting her in the freezer. If Gene and Andy did not return, and there came a time when the zombies left this building alone, then I would risk it, take the time, and bury Alley properly.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  1630 hours

  “We’ve got a problem.” Melissa panted. She stood bent forward, and rested the palms of her hands on her thighs. “The zombies--they figured out there’s a doorway into the cafeteria.”

  That was the worst news I’d heard in a while. Melissa had been assigned to watch the monsters. We stayed out of the cafeteria as much as possible because just the sight of us kept them agitated. And we wanted, no, we needed them to lose interest and wander the school. The herd was too large. There was no safe way to thin it. “They’ve what?”

  She waved. We followed her from the kitchen into the cafeteria.

  I heard it. A hollow thump. “They’re banging into the door,” she said.

  I watched. As one, they took a step back, and then as if one of them counted to three, they surged forward and slammed into the entire glass wall, with a concentration on the double doors. “That is not going to hold,” I said.

  “No, it is not,” Megan said.

  “Back into the kitchen, everyone.” Dave ushered us through the threshold. He closed the door near where the cash register was. Charlene was at the opposite side of the kitchen closing the other, the one students entered and picked up a food tray before shuffling their way down the cafeteria line for their meals.

  “They don’t deadbolt or anything,” Charlene said. “Just a simple lock on the handle.”

  “Push everything we can up against the doors,” Megan said. She and Kia moved about the kitchen.

  “There really isn’t anything. The counters are bolted. The stoves are commercial. There’s nothing we can use to barricade the doors,” Kia said.

  The crash was loud. There was no mistaking what had just happened. The glass had shattered. The zombies stormed the cafeteria.

  “Dad!” Charlene had her back pressed to the door.

  “We’re going to have to make a run for it,” Dave said.

  “A run?” Megan said.

  “We’ll be trapped in here,” I said.

  “There are just as many out there,” Kia said, she was on the sink counter, looking out the window.

  I could hear their feet on the gymnasium-like flooring, squeaking and sliding as they pushed against the closed door, and pounded on the wood.

  “Not going to be able to hold this closed,” Dave said. He and Melissa pressed against their door.

  “We’re going to have to leave all the supplies?” Megan said.

  “Yes,” I said. “I don’t see any other way.”

  “But Gene’s not back,” Melissa said. “I can’t leave without Gene.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her, especially right now, that Gene and Andy probably weren’t going to make it back. They’d been gone hours. If they had not returned yet, there was a good chance they were dead, or worse. “They’ll find us,” is what I said. “If you stay, you’re not going to make it. Gene wants you to live, Melissa. He told me so. He told me to protect you when he wasn’t here. That’s what I’m going to do.” I tried not to think about Cash or Alley. I’d sucked at protecting them. “We can’t stay here. Any of us. We have to make a run for it.”

  “Run where?” Megan said. “I mean, we throw open that back door, and fight through the zombies back there, and then what? Run where?”

  “We’ve got to go to someplace where Gene can find me, find us,” Melissa said.

  “And where is that?” I said.

  The door Charlene was backed up to budged. I heard wood split. “Dad!”

  Kia ran at the door, arms out. She pressed her weight against it. We needed to move. Now we had a bigger problem. Charlene’s door was busted. If we ran, if Kia and she moved, the zombies would be on us fast. The time to run, to get out the back door safely, had passed. Now we had zombies waiting outside, and zombies about to bust into the kitchen.

  “Megan, Melissa, get by the back door,” I said. This was going to have to be fast. Real fast. “Everyone have your weapons ready.”

  There was another crashing sound. Dave grunted. “They’re getting in, Chase. We can’t hold them.”

  Melissa turned, and like Kia, stood with her hands pressed against the door--pushing her weight to hold it closed.

  “It’s going to be on three. The four of you, let go of your doors and run for the exit, I’m going to cover you,” I said, pointing at Dave, Melissa and Charlene and Kia. I held my sword in both hands, ready. “Megan, when I say open that door, you throw it open, and then you and Michelle start clearing a path for us.”

  It was not a lot of space to cover. From where Dave and Melissa stood to the back door, it was about twenty-five feet. They had to skirt around counters. Charlene and Kia had a more direct path from point A to point B. Still had some skirting around things, but less of it.

  And there would be me, running interference
. I nodded at Dave. We’d known each other long enough, been through enough, that he knew I was going to make sure they made it out of the school, that if anything happened to me, Charlene was his responsibility. “On three,” I said.

  There was no counting.

  The door Charlene and Kia blocked split at the hinges.

  “Run,” I said. “Just run!”

  As Charlene and Kia ran, the door fell. It slammed to the floor. Zombies clogged the doorway, shoulder to shoulder. It was almost comical. “Go, Dave, go!”

  The door he and Melissa guarded remained closed.

  I swung my sword at the first zombie into the kitchen. My blade decapitated the thing. It took several more steps toward me and fell. The two behind it stumbled over the corpse, tripped and fell.

  The other four were out the door. I heard something honk. Had to be a horn. It just sounded out of place.

  The bus.

  I turned and fled. I left the kitchen, pulling closed that door. It was steel. It should hold them for a moment. The fire safety bar across the middle of the door did not take a genius to operate. Once they pushed on it, the door would open. It was that simple.

  Bus was not the right word for what sat parked at the back of the school. I remembered taking Cash and Charlene to see the Monster Truck Show at the War Memorial one winter. Beefed up Pick-up trucks with giant wheels and tires rolled over and crushed lined of cars. This…bus, easily fit into the monster category. Cash could have stood inside the wheels. The thing was painted a flat black. The windows were reinforced with black painted steel. The front end was the best part. Gene had mentioned a cattle scoop, like those found on the front of a train. But what I was looking at was an industrial size plow. It wasn’t for snow removal, though. The “V” blade sat six inches off the parking lot, and went as high as the front windshield. Overall, it had to be almost six feet tall. Gene was right. It should cut through traffic without as much as a hiccup.

  The bus passenger door swooshed open. Gene smiled behind the wheel. “Climb on board, Chase.”

  The cafeteria door kicked open. The hungry zombies growled as they filed out of the school. I ran and followed everyone up and into the bus. Gene pulled the handle and closed the doors. A gate unrolled, like one you’d see at a mall department store at closing time.

  “Just lock those in place by your feet.” Gene pointed. I bent and secured the locks as zombies beat at the closed door. “They can’t get in, but even if they broke down that door, with this gate down, they still can’t get in.”

  I stood up. Gene could not wipe that grin away if I’d begged him. “You like it?”

  “This is the shit,” I said.

  “I rigged the tank. It holds nearly 200 gallons of gas. Gets about 10 miles per gallon. That’s highway. But still, should be enough to get us from here to Mexico, if you can believe that. Andy was able to grab us some maps,” Gene said.

  I heard paper ruffle and looked back. Andy unfolded a map. “We’re going to cross through five states. The fifth is Texas. From here to the border, it’s exactly 1,680 miles. Mostly highway,” he said.

  “We drive straight through, take turns at the wheel, thirty-five hours or so, we can be there.” Gene put the bus in drive, kept his foot on the break. “What do you say, we done here?”

  “Lot of supplies by the door,” Charlene said. “I mean, a lot of supplies.”

  “A lot of zombies, too,” Melissa said.

  “This bus has everything we could want, I assure you,” Gene said.

  Megan shrugged. “Then I say we’re done. Let’s move out.”

  Kia and Allison sat in seats one in front of the other. Each had their back pressed to the wall and a knee on the seat so that they weren’t so much sitting, but kind of standing in a way they could face everything on the bus. They both nodded, and Kia flashed a thumbs up.

  “I say we roll,” Andy said.

  “Charlene?” Gene said.

  She looked at the school, at me, and finally at Gene. “Mexico or bust.”

  Gene smiled, showed all of his teeth and then cast his eyes on me. “And Chase?”

  I hated leaving the food, and the medical supplies. There was nothing we could do about it. We couldn’t risk going back for it. “Mexico. I agree. Let’s move out!”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  1700 hours /1680 miles to go

  Seats in the back of the bus had been ripped out. There were storage cabinets and boxes of dry food and canned goods stacked by the cabinets, without obscuring access to the Emergency Exit door. Shelves above the two rows of seats housed weapons, an assortment of bats and long handled axes, machetes and rifles. There were boxes of ammunition, as well. Seats toward the middle were removed, and had been replaced with bunk beds, one set on each side.

  “Gene, I am not going to lie. This bus is simply outstanding,” I said. I stood with one foot on a step toward the door and leaned against a pole.

  “It’s the shit, right? I told you, didn’t I?”

  “You told me. I didn’t completely believe you. I mean, I figured you had a bus. Why lie about that. But this, no. I couldn’t have dreamed it up if I’d tried,” I said.

  Gene laughed and slapped a hand onto the steering wheel. “She rides real smooth, too. We keep her at forty, fifty miles an hour, and that engine is going to hum the whole way. You have my word.”

  “Okay, you get tired, need a break, you let me know. We’ve got more than enough people to take turns at the wheel,” I said, as we pulled out of the school lot and made a left onto New Castle Road.

  “You might as well try to get some sleep. As long as I’m not ramming vehicles blocking our path, I’ll do my best to keep all of you from feeling like human milkshakes.” Gene laughed, again. He clearly enjoyed himself.

  I didn’t think I’d be able sleep, but I wanted to lie down. I think I needed to.

  “Are you okay,” Charlene said.

  I nodded. I walked from the front of the bus toward the beds. “Guys, mind if I crash for a bit?”

  No one minded.

  The bus bounced up and down the highway. I didn’t feel at all like a milkshake. Lying down with that steady motion felt kind of amazing. And while I didn’t think I’d be able to fall asleep, I closed my eyes and did just that.

  # # #

  Wednesday, November 24th, 0108 hours / 1265 miles to go

  “Dad. Dad?”

  I opened my eyes. Darkness was all around me. “Charlene?”

  “You’ve been asleep a long time, like eight hours,” she said.

  I got up onto an elbow, and held back a wince. I didn’t want Charlene to even suspect how much my side hurt. While I needed to clean this stitched area better, what I really had to find was prescription pills. The cut had been too deep; too long to not have something inside me battling against an inevitable infection. I rubbed my eyes, which were not easily adjusting to the darkness. “Eight hours?” That didn’t seem possible. “Where are we?”

  The bus wasn’t moving, I didn’t think.

  “Kentucky. Just crossed the border not that long ago,” she said. “We kept looking for a gas station with electricity, stopped at this one so we could fill the tank, and use the restrooms. Everyone is kind of busting at the bladder.”

  “Help me up.” I held out my hand. She hoisted me up into a sitting position. I rubbed my eyes. I retrieved my weapons and strapped them on. “You go yet?”

  “No,” she said.

  I stood up. “I’ll follow you.”

  Andy was at the wheel, the bus running. “We’re filling the tank, too. Had to go in and activate the pumps from behind the counter. Running a credit card didn’t work. We’ve gone about, I guess, over four hundred miles.”

  “No trouble?”

  “Mostly getting around cars and stuff. Highway’s bad, but navigable, really.”

  “You tired? I’m gonna pee. I just got a solid eight hours,” I said.

  “I know. Good man, that’s good.”

  “W
ell, I’ll take the next leg of the trip.”

  “I’d appreciate that. I’ve only been behind the wheel for a few hours, but it’s not natural being up and driving at this time of night. I have no idea how those long distance truck drivers stay awake on the road,” Andy said.

  I clapped him on the back as he levered the doors open for Charlene and me.

  We stepped off the bus and looked around. The area appeared vacant and silent. I didn’t like it. The bathroom seemed to be inside the mini-mart. I saw Kia, Gene and Michelle inside. Dave, by the pumps filling the tank, leaned his back against the bus with one hand stuffed into his pocket.

  “I see you’re awake,” he said.

  I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “I can’t believe I slept that long.”

  “You must have needed it. I slept some too, we all did. Those beds aren’t bad.”

  “You all took turns while I hogged a mattress all to myself,” I said, and laughed.

  “I’ll fight you for it when we get back on the road,” he said.

  “You can have it. I’m going to take a turn at the wheel,” I said.

  “Sounds good,” he said. He pushed his back off the bus, and stood with his weight on one foot. “I’m actually feeling just a bit sleepy.”

  Charlene and I walked to the entrance, and went into the store. We stood in line for a turn in the restrooms.

  “Bed ain’t bad, is it?” Gene said. “Not top of the line or nothing, but I think for a mattress inside a bus, they work.”

  “They work, alright. I’d have believed it was a Sealy,” I said. “I didn’t mean to sleep so much. There was no trouble on the road?”

  “Nothing, really. We knocked four-hundred plus miles out in eight hours. Not too shabby.”

  “Not too shabby at all.”

  “We limit stops like this, who knows, we could be at the border in twenty-two hours,” Gene said. “I have some empty jugs on board. Offered them to people. Figured we could have avoided this whole stop, if you know what I mean? Yeah, no one was real comfortable with using them.”

 

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