With newfound resolve, Max decided that he would allow no more distractions. He had a mission and a promise he had made that he needed to keep, and nothing else was going to stop him from getting back to Clara. The regret heavy on his shoulders, Max led Jay back towards the front of the building.
They walked into the once bustling streets of Toronto to see chaos around them. Chaos…and silence. Still wary after the recent events, Max put his hand out and stopped Jay before he could step out any farther.
Wrecked cars littered the street, a few of which were nothing more than burnt husks that still smoldered. Windows all over were shattered. Random objects littered the street along with no fewer than a dozen corpses in the immediate vicinity. A rancid smell hung over the entire area even in the open air, a layer of decay over the city. A little way down Max could see a yellow bus, crushed up against a concrete wall with small silhouettes scattered throughout. Images of Joan flashed through his mind, but he shook them off, knowing that he needed to focus if he was going to accomplish what he was setting out to do.
The overcast grey sky set the mood further, oddly dark despite the early hour of the day. In the distance, he could see a couple figures shambling along the road, the pace and body language indicating they were likely infected.
There were several large skyscrapers around him and Max got the impression that any sounds he made would be easily heard by anyone hiding nearby.
Taking one last look around, he saw no movement other than the gentle whispers of several newspapers swaying in the light breeze.
"Come on, Jay-Man," Max said finally, clear but quiet. The boy’s eyes sparked slightly for a moment hearing his old nickname, and for a second Max wondered if Jay’s memories were coming back, but after a moment of Jay still staring at him with a goofy grin, Max decided to move on. They worked their way out into the street, Max still on high alert and Jay shuffling absentmindedly behind him. Thankfully, Max did have some idea of where to go, and thought back to the days they had spent in the room.
Before Jay had died, Max had asked him questions about where they were. In particular, where they were in relation to the place Jay had said he was from: Vancouver.
After he saw the pictures of Clara, much of the feeling of forgetfulness lifted off his chest. His brain clicked, and while he still couldn’t remember a lot of it, he recognized the feeling he associated with thinking of her, seeing her picture. He knew that was love. He had to get back to her.
Drilling Jay as much as was reasonably possible during the sick teen’s progression, he had managed to learn a bit more about approximately where he needed to go.
“Listen Daryl—I mean… Max.” Jay stopped for a moment, overcome with coughing.
“Vancouver is like…pretty far west. That’s the general direction.” He nodded towards one of the walls. Max walked to the window and looked at which street that would mean being on when they left.
“You won’t know which way to go, but I can tell you how to follow the sun. The thing in the sky,” Jay went on. “When morning comes, look which way the sun is coming from. Keep the sun at your back until it hits above your head, and then follow it until it goes down again.”
Max was thankful now for that foresight the boy had and looking up and through the grey skies, he could see one area that seemed brighter almost directly above him. He noted the street he had seen from the window and they set off, heading due west.
For the first few hours after leaving the hotel, there were signs of struggle, but very few signs of life. Walking down one street, they had heard a commotion in one of the stores. They moved quickly past it, not daring to go and investigate.
As the sun began to go down, Max realized he would not be able to follow it at nighttime and didn’t want to go in the wrong direction, or encounter anything during the night. He signaled for Jay to follow closely and wandered a few blocks over to where the signs of destruction were slightly fewer. Max knew they needed a safe place, a shelter for the night. Remaining quiet and telling Jay to do the same, they crept around several buildings, looking for an access point.
Max looked for a doorknob he would be able to open but that he didn’t think others would be able to easily. Happy with himself for thinking of it that way, he soon chose a small shop that appeared to be closed up.
Max opened the door and stepped in with Jay right behind him. It was dark inside, but the waning sun outside provided them with enough light to see around the space. It looked like most of the food and supplies had already been taken, and Max noticed a few brown spots spread out on the ground in front of him.
Taking another step in, he hesitated as Jay started growling behind him. Max frowned, unsure at what was prompting the sudden aggression. He looked around but still couldn’t see anything.
Keeping his voice low, he turned to Jay to tell him to calm down. Before he could get more than the first syllable out, several flashes accompanied by loud noises surrounded them.
It only took Max a moment to register the sounds of gunshots and he fell to the ground, dragging Jay down with him, who was now roaring angrily at whoever was shooting at them.
Max tried to see around the cash registers but only got a vague sense of where the shots were coming from behind the empty aisles.
After a moment, the shooting stopped. Max heard voices across the store, frantically saying things he couldn’t hear. Taking the opportunity, he pulled Jay up and rushed towards the door they had come through. Shouts and more shooting started raining behind them, but luckily missed as the two crashed back onto the dark streets of Toronto.
Several blocks later, Max finally slowed down. He didn’t think they had been followed. He looked over and caught sight of himself and Jay in the glass of a storefront and quickly realized why the people in the grocery store had shot at them. They both looked awful.
Blood and even a few chunks of viscera clung to both of them in various places, and their pale skin seemed to glow in the dim light.
Max approached the reflection slowly, putting his hands up to his face. He really had avoided it as much as possible after that first look, but since regaining his memories he hadn’t seen himself. He rubbed a bit at the scruff covering his face and scoffed, not liking how it looked against the pale skin.
Jay trudged behind him, pawing absently at the reflections in front of him, pulling Max out of his reverie. Sighing, Max motioned for Jay to follow and started looking around for a safe place to go.
Keeping to the edge of the road, Max looked for signs of people. Specifically, he was now looking for a business or building that had been ransacked and left open, therefore unlikely to contain any gun-toting uninfected. He was learning from the experiences he had so far.
After another block, they came across what looked to be a small mom-and-pop corner store. The front door was twisted open and even from outside they could see the mess left behind. Garbage and blood was everywhere, with a few missed items floating around in the middle of it all. Grateful for the diminished regard for smell, Max left Jay outside and performed a quick look through. It was bloody and messy but seemed to be blissfully empty.
Looking down at the carnage, Max scanned around. He was looking for something he could identify as edible, but nothing looked familiar and no bodies had been left despite the blood. He pouted a little and continued his search, but other than a closed door hidden at the back, it was deserted.
“Jay, come,” he said as he popped his head back outside. Jay obediently followed, sniffing the air a bit on his entry before turning his head towards the back of the store. Jay started to walk towards the door that Max had left shut. Max stepped forward to grab Jay’s arm and held him back, and he recognized the familiar scent. Ensuring Jay was properly seated, Max went back over to the door and put his ear to it again. He couldn’t hear anything, and The Smell seemed to be faintly all over in the outside world anyways. Max figured if they were quiet they would be okay to stay for a few hours. He was getting tired and didn’
t feel like trying to find another place.
With some effort to keep quiet, they managed to get one of the racks to hold the door shut and both settled behind the till.
Jay quickly fell asleep, snoring deeply into his chest and twitching periodically. Max sat and contemplated all that had happened since leaving the room. It had only been a day, but they had experienced a lot, and the multiple run-ins with both infected and uninfected gave him a lot to think about.
After a while, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the treasured picture of him and Clara. Smiling to himself, he finally drifted off to sleep, thinking of her.
CHAPTER 13
Clara and Seventeen stayed huddled together in one corner of the cage for the hours that followed Three being taken. The soldiers had not removed the body of the female they beat to death, and despite their hunger it took quite a while before one of the others got the confidence to approach. One of the males in the group, who had been one of the bite victims from the van, began nibbling on her first. Once he started it didn't take long for the majority to join him. Now only some scraps and clothes remained.
Although Clara was hungry, she had already figured out that The Smell that made her feel ravenous and anxious wasn't coming from her fellow infected. As her memories came back it seemed her control over her emotions did as well, unlike when she had first attacked the soldiers who took her.
Home.
She thought of the picture in her pocket and wondered if she would ever find that man. Despite her desire to see him, she also hoped he never showed up here. She wouldn’t wish this place upon anyone.
Clara looked at the blood-stained floor as she clung to Seventeen, her stomach grumbling in spite of herself. She wondered if their captors were ever going to feed them or if she too would be eating her cellmates before long.
This train of thought had her thinking about Three again, wondering what was happening to him. Just as she started thinking about him, the heavy doors opened and two soldiers entered the room with Three between them.
Clara and Seventeen did their best not to react but both stiffened as they watched the trio make their way across the room. They couldn't see any visible marks on him; however, the grim look on Three’s face was anything but encouraging.
The two soldiers threw him back in the cell and placed two buckets near the entrance of the door before slamming it shut behind them.
The occupants all hugged the walls, eyeing the buckets with unease, wary after the soldiers’ last visit into the cage. Brushing off invisible lint, Three briefly looked into the buckets before working his way across the room and going to his trademark spot on the back wall. He sat down and put his arms around his knees, acting like nothing had happened.
A faint smell made its way to Clara and curiosity got the better of her. She indicated to Seventeen to stay put while she made her way to the buckets to see what the soldiers had left them. She did not look at Three, sure she would see his disapproval of her actions.
As she approached, she saw one was filled with water and the other some kind of raw meat. Although hesitant to touch anything provided by her captors, Clara’s needs beat out her caution and she thirstily gulped water from her hands as her fellow captives watched on with interest.
A moment later, Seventeen came up behind her with the rest following closely behind. While the rest clamored around the water, having mostly gotten their fill of meat earlier, Clara dug into the second bucket and scooped out two large handfuls of the ground meat before making her way over to Three.
Sitting down beside him, she offered one of her handfuls. After a beat, Three accepted, nodding at Clara in thanks as they partook in their respective meals.
Clara moaned in pleasure as she took her first bites, having not eaten since before she turned. Deep in the back of her mind, she wondered if she should have a problem with raw meat, but her hunger quickly stifled those thoughts as she dove into the rest.
Sitting back finally sated and content, Clara leaned her head forward to look over at Three again, who was still absently nibbling his handful while looking straight ahead. Concern crossed her face and she reached out to touch his arm.
Stiffening at her touch, Three brought the meat down from his face and looked back at Clara. After a moment, he put his head downwards and just barely whispered the word, "Later."
Understanding this wasn't the time to ask questions, Clara grabbed Three's empty hand and waited and watched while Seventeen divvied out the rest of the buckets.
While the zombies ate their fill, Rachel was sitting upstairs, thinking about her recent interview.
Rachel had sat with Three for almost two hours, just talking to him about anything and everything while inspecting his body. While he hadn't prevented her from doing so, he didn’t make it easy or respond to any of her questions.
The entire time she spoke, Rachel had very much gotten the sense that he was listening. While Three tried not to react, his general attention and awareness was a giveaway compared to his relatively mindless counterparts.
Stirring a cup of weak instant coffee, Rachel pored over the files and notes that had been compiled on the almost two dozen infected they had downstairs. Out of all of them, fifteen had bite marks and injuries on various parts of their bodies, which indicated to her that they had turned from a direct bite as opposed to having caught the virus organically.
Sipping the hot drink absently, Rachel thought back to Seattle, where one of the soldiers who stood guard for their original group had been bitten.
By that point of the virus’s progression, virologists were relatively sure that those who hadn’t yet caught the disease were immune. Exposure was almost inevitable, and many of the people who remained uninfected had encountered the virus in one way or another and remained healthy. While scientists studied the data of those who had not contracted the virus, Rachel was the first to witness a person previously thought to be immune turn after a vicious bite.
The soldier had teased the occupants with the buckets’ contents for hours before entering to place them down, and when he did, he was less than careful. One daring and hungry infected rushed forward, biting the young soldier on his forearm.
The infection from the bite spread hard and fast, and in under two days he died, as opposed to those who contracted the virus where it typically took 5-7 days. Less than ten minutes after calling time of death, the soldier had gotten up again and ripped the throat out of the attending nurse, who bled out quickly while nearby guards took out their infected companion. The nurse was quickly removed as well.
Rachel thought about that now and wondered if there was any difference of brain damage between those who were bitten and those who were not. Looking at the profile of the one infected she had done CT and MRI scans on in Seattle, she noticed that he was one of those bitten.
She decided it was time to do some tests and imaging on one who had died from the virus as opposed to a bite. Looking over the few who had apparently died from the virus itself, Rachel selected one of the females who appeared relatively healthy, one of their newer arrivals, and scheduled her to be brought up for a round of scans.
Getting up, she poured out her coffee and left to find Captain Wolfe and let him know what she needed.
Of course, Rachel had no way of knowing she had just selected Clara, and that her choice would change both of their lives forever.
CHAPTER 14
The next day, the sky seemed to open up as water poured down steadily from the foreboding clouds. Looking upwards, Max couldn’t see any sign of the sun to guide them, and they hadn’t had enough time to go over maps in order for him to find his way otherwise. As much as he wanted to get moving, he didn’t want to go the wrong way and have to backtrack.
“Pass me some of the books from over there,” Jay asked Max, pointing at the desk in the corner with the glossy hotel and tourist brochures. Bringing them over to Jay, Max sat on the edge of the bed. Opening one of the books, Jay found an enlarged map of Cana
da and pointed to Toronto.
“This is a map of Canada. I don’t know where to find a map you can use, but the sun should work out for this time of year,” Jay began pointing to the city in the book in front of him.
“This is Vancouver way over here by the water. It’s like…Over 4000 kilometers away.” Jay thought for a second. He was actually very good at math in school, and quickly tried to average out the distance in his head.
“If you walk, like…the whole way, it would take you way over a month to do.” Jay concluded, frowning, not totally sure how Max would ever be able to do such a thing.
Max contemplated Jay’s word for a moment before asking, “So a day means sun up and down right? So…lots of those until at Clara?” to which Jay nodded, hoping his slow friend understood the distance involved at least a little bit.
Pausing again, Jay considered the problem.
“Maybe you can find another way? A car, or….” Before Jay could finish, he was retching over the side of the bed again.
They didn’t get a chance to talk about it further.
Max took a moment to consider the conversation that occurred before Jay died. He had been thinking about it the night before and realized the journey was going to be more difficult that he originally thought. He knew it really would be a good idea for them to find another way to Vancouver. Walking was going to take too long, especially if they kept having to stop.
Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to read a map, much less operate a car. He looked to Jay, saddened that there was still no improvement in the boy’s recovery. Max couldn’t help but wonder what other ideas he may have had, but accepted that he would likely never know.
Making a decision, he turned to Jay, who was still leaning against the counter staring at the raindrops running down one of the jagged windows.
Dead Aware (Book 1): Dead Aware [A Zombie Journey] Page 7