by Ponce, Jen
“Think about it.”
“I will.” She pauses. “Could you do something for me?”
He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t speak.
“I promised someone I would bring their wallet home. If you’re going there anyway … and I know it’s a big place.”
Peter flicked his fingers. “Hand it over. We’ll do it.”
She nods and passes Will’s wallet to him. She tells him Will’s story and he listens solemnly. When she’s done, he holds it in the air like a promise.
“We’ll get it there.”
“Are you sure?”
He gives her a stern look and she smiles. “Thank you. It meant a lot to him to get it home.”
She leaves him to his gardening and goes downstairs where people are gathering for dinner. Alex waves at her from the food line. The residents of the Complex take turns serving each other. Dee has done the deed twice now. She likes meeting everyone, hearing them talk about their day-to-day lives as if the world hasn’t ended outside.
She wants to stay here, damn it.
Of course, once she gets her kids, she can come back, can’t she?
They will love it here.
Shit. She has to go.
When she gets to Alex—she’s serving reconstituted mashed potatoes—Dee says, “Tomorrow.”
Alex plops a lump of taters on her plate with a satisfied smile. “It’s about time.”
“Oh really?” She moves on to the green beans, then gets her muffin and finds a spot near Gloria. “Your husband says you guys want to go with me when I go.”
“Yes. It’s time … we have to try again.”
“I’d like to leave tomorrow.”
She doesn’t look surprised. “All right. I’ll let Peter know. We’ll be ready.”
Dee eats her dinner with relish. Now that she’s finally decided, she doesn’t want to wait. This might be my last meal. This might be my last peaceful night. This might be my last day breathing.
If she dies tomorrow, so be it. She probably will. Horror movies were all about the tragic ending, weren’t they?
They’ve given her an air mattress and tent in a far corner. The tent is blue, nothing like the one she shared with Dan during those awful last days in Alliance, but it reminds her of him anyway. The smell of it, the sound of it, the way the air feels as she lays there and gazes at the ceiling.
“Knock knock.”
Dee pushes herself to an elbow. “Come in.”
Alex unzips the door and crawls in, already in her pajamas, her hair wild around her shoulders. “I wanted to find out the plan for tomorrow.” The air mattress jounces as she wiggles around to get comfortable. As she does, Dee rolls into her. “Sorry, sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Dee says, and once Alex is settled, she lays back on her pillow feeling strange with another woman in the bed with her. She shared a tent with Dan, but it was different. Alex is a woman, a lesbian. She’s alive and warm and interesting.
“So, plan. I hear Peter and Gloria are coming, no?”
“Yes. Peter has Will’s wallet.”
Alex rolls, moving her closer to Dee. The air mattress is a queen, but there isn’t that much room for two adult females and when Alex rolls, their legs press together and their faces are inches away. “Good. That’s good. He’s a stand-up guy.”
“Right.” Her whole body is alert, awake in a way it hasn’t been in a long while. She doesn’t want to feel these things, doesn’t want to betray Lana this way … but Lana is dead, isn’t she? She’s dead and Dee’s alive. And Alex is here.
No. She can’t. She won’t. Not now.
“Are you sure you want to come with me?” she asks, trying to distract herself, trying to ignore the thoughts that tumble in her head.
“Why did you decide to leave tomorrow?”
Dee considers the question. “I’ve been stuck. It’s happy here. It’s safe here. I haven’t seen one of them in three days. Haven’t heard them either. And I’ve been on the road alone for too long. Seen too many people die.” Alex has a mole on the side of her nose. She calls it her witch’s mole and she’s perfected the cackle that goes along with it. Dee knows this about her too. Idly, she wonders what it might be like to kiss Alex, but she keeps her own counsel on that. “If I don’t go tomorrow, I’ll never go. Because I don’t want to find out my boys are dead. I don’t want to know how they died. I don’t want to go and find the house empty and never know …” She swallows down the lump of emotion that threatens to overwhelm her. “But I have to know something. I can’t let my fear keep me from knowing.” She shrugs, making the bed jiggle. “I’ve been ready. I’ve just been waiting for my gumption to kick in.”
“Well, thank you.”
Dee stares at her. “For what?”
“Sharing your gumption.”
It startles a laugh out of her. “Okay.”
“Seriously. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have ever left this place, not seriously, not for anything. So thank you.”
It’s Alex who goes in for a kiss, though it’s a quick peck and not the soul-searching, start-of-a-romance kiss that Dee has been imagining, much to her shame. The kiss is nice, and it reminds her what she’s here to do—and what she isn’t.
“Get some sleep,” Alex says and the bed bounces like a storm-tossed sea as she retreats.
The door slides back into place with the buzzing sound of the zippers and Dee is alone.
34
Now
She slept though she didn’t expect to and when she wakes, it’s already ten thirty. “Shit,” she says and dresses, scrambling for her gear before pushing her way out of the tent into the morning sunshine filtering in from the windows above.
“There you are, sleepy head,” Alex says when Dee gets to the communal tables.
“I can’t believe I slept so long.” Maybe we should postpone until tomorrow when we have more time.
“You must have needed it. No worries, we have the SUV packed and loaded. Gary is ready to sound the sirens. We’ll have smooth sailing at least for a bit, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Why does she feel so unprepared? Why does she want to stay, to call the whole thing off?
Because I’m scared shitless.
“Here. Eat. We’ll go as soon as Peter and Gloria get back.”
“Back? Where did they go?”
“When they got here—the first time—they were on foot the last couple blocks. Their car died and they left it where it was and never went back. They had pictures, I guess, in the trunk. Too hard on them memory-wise but now …” She shrugs. “I guess they’re wanting to do a memorial for their dogs or something.”
It is a weird thing to risk their lives for, but Dee supposes they’re safer now than when they first arrived. “When did they leave?”
“Early.”
Dee twists around as if she expects to see them walk through the door that minute. “Early and they still aren’t back?”
Alex bites her lip. “I … I guess I just thought they wanted to have some time alone before …”
Dee pushes away from the table. “If they aren’t back yet, they’re in trouble. We should go look for them. Do you know where they went?”
Mel comes over, drying her hands on a dish towel. “I know. They gave me the location.” She finishes with her hand and then pulls a sticky note from her pocket. “Here. We can send a team for them. You don’t have to go.”
“I know. But we should. They were willing to go with me. I don’t want to leave them hanging now. You know?”
Mel squeezes her shoulder. “You’re a good one, Dee. I’ll get a couple people together and we’ll leave in five.”
Five minutes later, Dee, Alex, Mel, and Gary head out, weapons at the ready. They take the truck so Peter and Gloria can ride back with them when they find them. “When,” Mel says, “because the alternative is unacceptable.”
Dee understands she’s managed to put off leaving another day as the truck rumbles down the ghost-like streets. I
t’s eerie, even now, even though she’s ridden out before with these folks. It’s like the entire world is poised on the edge of a cliff waiting to be shoved off the side. It’s the calm before the storm, like one of the kids she’d mentored had told her when he called her late one night. ‘I need help, Dee.’ Why? ‘My dad is too calm. You get it?’
She got it. This kid had seen the worst of his father’s temper many times. He knew when the bastard was ready to blow.
“Impending doom,” she mutters, and Alex reaches over to squeeze her hand, gently.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll go tomorrow.”
Dee nods, though she isn’t sure she believes it. Not anymore. And in some strange way, she’s relieved. “I’m so sorry, boys.”
They have to take the long way since a bad accident blocks the road that would have taken them straight there. She starts to see them now that they’re farther away from the Complex and wonders aloud why Peter and Gloria walked.
“They went through the pile up, of course,” Alex says and when she does, Dee feels dumb for not having thought of it. “It’s safer along there. We clean it out from time to time.”
They should have gotten their pictures some other day, a day when there were more people with them, guilt be damned.
“Good.” She watches an old lady struggle to her feet. Her house dress is ragged, and it flaps around her dirty calves as she stumbles toward the street. They leave her behind soon enough, but not before Dee hears her call out. “Please? So cold.”
Alex shivers beside her, though she makes no indication that she hears the woman otherwise.
Please? So cold.
Mel bumps over a curb to bypass a bus stalled in the road and as she eases back off the curb, they see the reason Peter and Gloria haven’t returned.
Ten or maybe fifteen of them crowd around a dump truck, their arms reaching, reaching, reaching upward. Their cries are plaintive, heartrending. Dee puts a hand on the gun she carries at her hip. Its weight is comforting.
“Ma! Mama!”
“Please!”
“Need!”
“Ma!”
“M!”
Mel swears.
“Look.” Alex leans forward and points between Gary and Mel to the top of the truck where a head is barely visible. “They’re there. Trapped in the bed.”
They strain to see. Sure enough a head pops up again and Dee recognizes Peter’s thinning hair. He waves an arm at them and gives a shout. This drives the things below him wild and they kick up their frenzied efforts to get to the living flesh, the dinner, the food just out of their reach.
“Let’s take them out,” Gary says, his hands gripping the shotgun he holds eagerly.
“Wait,” Dee says. She’s already surveying the area. A few of them are hanging back, she sees, waiting in the shadows beside the houses like lions in the bush.
“Fuck,” Gary breathes, and Alex’s fingers tense on Dee’s sleeve.
“Are they … are they trying to ambush us?” Alex asks.
“I think so. Yeah,” Dee says.
“What did you say?” Mel asks. She looks over at the house when Dee tells her where. “I don’t see—Holy shit.”
“They’re waiting for us. Look.”
“Ambush predators,” Dee murmurs. It creeps her out in a way they creeped her out the first time she saw them. It also sends a chill down her spine as she wonders if they’ve been watching the Complex. If they’ve watched them walk outside, watched them on the rooftops.
Waiting. Planning.
“What are we going to do?”
“I’m going to get out and get in the truck bed,” Gary says. “You can drive close and I’ll shoot the ones by the dump truck. You guys keep watch.”
“I’ll get in the bed with you. It’ll be a better viewpoint and I can watch your back, shoot the ones that try to sneak up on you,” Alex says. “Let’s get this done. Come on.”
“Move fast,” Dee says, capturing Alex’s hand on her sleeve a moment before letting her go.
Alex grins fast and hard. “Of course.” She reaches into her pocket for a pair of shooter’s plugs and pokes them into her ears.
Gary and Alex jump out and clamber into the back, then Mel drives them close enough to the dump truck to get good shots, but far enough away that Gary and Alex aren’t in immediate danger if the zombies surrounding the truck decide they are an easier meal.
Dee sees one lurch from its hiding place, its face so battered and rotted that she can’t tell its gender. “Alex!”
“Got it!” Alex’s rifle booms. The thing’s head snaps back. Flesh flies. It falls to its knees then collapses. Others come out now as Gary shoots. The sound is terrific, and Dee wishes she thought to bring plugs too.
The dead things drop one by one by one.
More of them come out from the hiding places, some running some shambling. Dee isn’t sure Alex and Gary can take them all. A few get within fifty feet and she feels her stomach sink down into her toes. Before she can think too hard about it, she opens her door and gets into the shooter’s stance Dan taught her. She picks off two that try to sneak up from the front passenger side.
“Good shot!” Mel calls out.
Dee nods, but doesn’t know if Mel sees or not. Doesn’t matter, either. She has to keep them safe. All of them. She won’t lose any more.
35
Then
I convinced Dan to leave by suggesting Lana and Owen and the others might be waiting for us up ahead. We’d planned a route, after all. If Lana had stuck with it, then they very well might be waiting for us somewhere down the road. There were fifty some miles between us and the next town, so I was hopeful there would be few dead things and several houses they could hole up in.
We could hole up too, once we found them.
We would find them.
It started snowing sometime that morning and the flakes rushed past the window as we drove down the road. Dan tensed beside me when we saw the van with its gaping door. The blood stains were hidden by the snow, thankfully, but we all knew they were there.
In the backseat, Paisley tried to engage Isaac in conversation, but he stared stubbornly out the window. His brother’s death had broken him, and I wasn’t sure he was going to snap back from it.
I wasn’t sure Dan would either if we didn’t find Owen.
Where are you, Lana?
At every turn and over every hill, I expected to see a sign, something from Lana showing me she was alive and every time my heart sank when I saw nothing.
“Maybe they didn’t have anything to write with,” I said. We kept spray paint in each vehicle, but they might not have had time to grab it when they were forced out of the van.
“Maybe,” Dan said. His voice was dry and raspy. Plastic crinkled as he unscrewed the cap on his water and took a swig. “This snow is getting bad.”
I nodded. I was keeping under forty and the tires were gripping the road nicely, but from the way the sky looked and how hard the snow was falling, I supposed we’d have to find a safe place to stay before night fell. I didn’t want to search a house in the dark. The very idea of it made me sick to my stomach.
“There.” Dan pointed to our left. “Good place as any.”
Right. The dashboard clock said it was three fifteen. It would be getting dark soon, sooner if the snow got worse. I eased up on the gas and tapped the brakes until we were going slow enough to take the turn without sliding off the road.
Gravel popped under our tires, though it was muffled by the snow. I hoped to heaven we wouldn’t get snowed in. There was no telling if the house would have food, or access to water. We had the tents, sleeping bags, and a huge boxful of hand warmers, the kind hunters put in their gloves and boots. Whether that would be enough to keep us from freezing to death, I didn’t know. Probably not, not with the way we were going.
I turned off the vehicle and we sat in the quiet of the snow, watching.
Well, some of us.
Isaac’s door slam
med shut and he was up the stairs to the house’s door before we could yell at him to come back. I expected Paisley to follow; that had been her MO since Jude died and Isaac went nuts: follow Isaac into whatever danger he threw himself. Now she sat there sobbing, shaking her head.
“Paisley?”
“I’m not going. I’m not following him anymore.”
I frowned at Dan, then reached over the seat to take her hand. “You don’t have to follow—”
“I promised Jude! I promised I’d take care of his brother and I’ve tried. I have but he doesn’t want me to save him. Or protect him. Or whatever. He wants to die, and I don’t want to die with him.” She pulled free and buried her face in her hands.
Dan sat uncomfortably for a few minutes while I tried to soothe her, then he said, “Going to go make sure he doesn’t get himself killed,” and left.
Secretly, I wasn’t mad at all that I’d been left behind to comfort. I hated clearing places, hated wondering when one of them might pop out of a shadowy corner or dark closet and bite the crap out of me. I didn’t want to get eaten.
“I hate him.”
“Who?”
“Isaac.” Paisley swiped her cheeks, sniffling as she did. “He never liked me, never liked it that Jude loved me. He wanted to break us up. He was such a shit to me, a shit, and I spent these last few weeks trying to keep a promise I made I didn’t even want to keep!” Her bottom lip trembled, but she looked less sad and more angry, which I thought was an improvement. “You know how many times I almost died? Fucking dick! Dick!”
I managed to keep myself from shushing her. Somehow, I didn’t think she would take it kindly, not right now.
“I’m not doing it anymore. Not following him, not fucking trying to keep his stupid ass alive. He can go fuck himself.” She looked resolute for about five seconds and then her face crumbled. “This sucks.”
“It does.” I’d never been good at comforting people. Lana had been our relationship’s official sympathizer. She knew I was shit at it, teased me about it so many times.
What would she say right now?
Lana, where are you?