The pair of youngsters was sitting on the laps of a couple of women situated in the rear bench seat. Emma, sitting behind Malachi, was once an administrative employee at Providence Hospital. She’d had the good fortune of finding Dr. Caldwell early in the emerging catastrophe at the hospital and was saved by his planning and direction. Their harrowing trek through the hospital was followed by a brief trip in a hospital airlift helicopter and a violent crash on the south side of Anchorage. The survivors from Providence were eventually whittled down to just the good doctor, Emma, and the police officer.
Kim, sitting next to Emma on the very back seat asked, “How much gas do we have?”
Neil was relieved to hear her speak. When they made their escape from the safe house, her best friend Tony was attacked and killed by several of the walking dead as he threw open the garage door. The severity of his wounds caused him to die quickly and, therefore, reanimate quickly. With blood still spurting from the gaping wounds on his neck, face, and arms, he chased after the fleeing van. Kim demanded that they stop to help her friend, not willing to accept that it was no longer Tony that was chasing them. Her manic ranting had quickly turned to depressive silence.
Dr. Caldwell asked half-mockingly, “You want to take a road trip somewhere?”
Kim, still looking out the side window, said without much emotion in her voice, “No, I was just wondering how long we had until we would be on foot.”
From behind Neil, Meghan asked with a little more urgency, “How much gas do we have?”
Neil answered both of them, “Relax. We’ve got a full tank and this thing gets great gas mileage.”
“So, where are we headed?” Meghan continued.
Dr. Caldwell turned to look at the others in the back. “We’re going to try and find a way out of the city. I don’t think anyone is going to be coming back here anytime soon to give us any help, so it’s up to us to save ourselves.”
Kim pointedly asked, “You mean the way that we helped Tony?”
“Kim, what is done is done. None of us wanted that to happen to Tony any more than we’d want it to happen to anyone else. We can’t do anything about it now and there is no bringing him back. Had we even tried to help him, you know what would have happened to the rest of us. Do you want to be responsible for the same happening to Jules and Danny?”
Kim looked back out the window and didn’t answer, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.
Malachi just shook his head and didn’t say a word. In his mind, Tony was destined for such a fate. To Malachi, Tony had chosen his ill begotten path when he decided to lay with other men in sin. It sickened him to even imagine it. The rough groping...the clumsy positioning...the sweating...the struggle... He could feel his heart rate jump; his disgust rising as a sour biting taste in the back of his mouth. He couldn’t shake the images though. They just kept running in his mind over and over again. Rather than fight it–fighting it did no good whatsoever–he closed his eyes and relived a past that was never really any further than arm’s length away, always hovering on the periphery. The memories were so common that they didn’t even bring on the fear or the pain like they once had. They represented no more menace than the memory of his first cavity filling. Through the tangle of grabbing, abrasive older hands and arms, his mind sought out better visions, some token remembrance of happiness however fleeting from a childhood that was as flat in aspect as was the adult Malachi’s face.
From deep within his memory trove, he often found his mother with her generous and approving smile. He could see her berry picking with his sisters out on the tundra in the early autumn. She seemed so far away but this memory of her was a thousand fold better than that of the broken woman she became during his adolescent years. But he was able to hold that autumn day from long ago. It may not have even been a memory anymore. He just as likely could be imagining the peace and the supreme tranquility from the vision. It didn’t matter to him. It didn’t matter that he could still taste the sour and sweet goodness from eating Agutaq, Eskimo “ice cream” made from seal oil and the berries they picked that day.
Looking out the windows to either side of him, he tried to remember and then hold on to the present. It was becoming harder all the time and was made more difficult still by his inability to recognize the present and reality as distinguished from the random images and visitations from the past that threatened to dislodge him permanently.
He could see some storm clouds gathering over the Chugach Mountains sitting to the north and east of Anchorage. The clouds were dark and purple, like a bruise spreading itself over the horizon.
Neil drove them north on Lake Otis Parkway and found a likely path back out to the Seward Highway, which was a primary north-south thoroughfare through town. The van was largely quiet, each of the survivors retreating into his or her thoughts, memories, or torments. Neil didn’t have that luxury. By virtue of his being the driver, Neil had to keep his wits about him. There was no pause or moment for him to regroup, though he was punishing himself as much or more than anyone else in the vehicle.
He couldn’t shake the guilt that, had he planned better, Tony would still be alive...and so would Rachel. The most unsettling emotion he was feeling, however, was a nagging and punishing sense of relief. It could have just as easily been him opening the garage door and overwhelmed by those things. It all had happened so quickly that none of it really hit him until they were well away. He wasn’t quite certain if he saw Tony as he was attacked but he was sure that he saw his face after his death and reanimation. Tony wasn’t there anymore. Humanity wasn’t there anymore. All that dwelled in those dark pupils and gnashing jaws was unbridled rage and unquenchable hunger. And that could have been him.
This stretch of highway, cutting through the heart of Anchorage, was largely empty, free of large pockets of cars and obstructions. There hadn’t been any large road construction or repair projects and most of the cars that were scattered here and there were likely already parked or stalled before the tumult had hit. Still, Neil was careful to give any vehicle sitting stalled on the road a wide berth. No point in tempting fate. With the isolation and the quiet all around them, it was hard to remember that they were in the midst of what was once the most populous region in this part of the world.
In the distance where the Seward Highway split and became Ingra and Gamble Streets, Neil could see the glint of sunlight reflecting off of the metal and glass of a large pocket of cars. It was quite obvious that there was a bottleneck in front of them. Looking to either side of them, he determined that this was a good place to sort things out, so he stopped the van and looked back over his shoulder at his passengers, who all looked at him in wonder.
It had been less than an hour since they had made their flight and the tension was still very high for all of them. Neil rolled down his window, just a few inches, and welcomed the refreshing breeze into the vehicle. A lot had just happened...more than any of them could fully digest alone. They were free but now there was a sense of despair as to the choices and the possible consequences in front of them. As Neil had heard it put in the past, sometimes the devil you know is less frightening than the devil you don’t. They all knew where they stood while they were still in that house, but now there was no real knowing.
Kim was the first to speak, “So what’s up? Why we stoppin’?”
“I think this is as good a place as any for us to figure out what’s next. We made plans about getting away, but so far those plans have gone south. What are we doin’? Where are we headin’?” answered Neil.
“We’re gettin’ the hell away,” Kim answered for all of them.
Neil nodded. “Okay. I get that. But to where?”
“Away.”
“Okay. Again, where is ‘away’? I need to have some idea where we’re going or we’re just going to drive around until we run out of gas. Do you want to be on foot?”
“So,” Emma asked, “can we have this conversation somewhere other than here?”
“H
ere seems okay for us to talk,” Dr. Caldwell said. “It’s wide open, so nothing can sneak up on us and I don’t see any evidence of those things for as far as my eyes can see. Seems like we’re alone out here.”
Kim demanded, “Here!?! Here!?! Where the hell is ‘here’!?! We’re on a fucking highway!”
Her coarse language reminded Jules of Rachel. She already missed her. She was fun. Back at the house, Rachel had tried to help Tony who was in some trouble after he opened the garage door for all of them to get out. In so doing, Rachel fell out of the side door of the van and then ran into the house, with a couple of those scary monsters in tow. That was the last they heard from Rachel.
Jules was starting to understand what happened when people disappeared and never came back. It was also beginning to dawn on her what that meant about her mother, father, and brother Martin. Maybe that was why people acted so strangely around her whenever conversation found its way back to that first day and how all of this had begun. She wondered about her older brother Alec who had stayed behind at their vacation cabin when Martin had been bitten. Was he still at the cabin waiting for all of them to return? Boy was he going to be mad.
Jerry suggested, “If there was anyone that had the means to get through this, it’s got to be the military. Maybe Elmendorf or Fort Rich is still holding out. They’ve got some badass guns and equipment to build earthen-walled fortresses in a matter of minutes. Maybe there’re still some people up that way. Maybe they’ve got the means to get us out.”
Again, Jerry could feel all the eyes in the van starting to look his way. Every time he decided that “this” will be the last time that he opened his big mouth, he found himself doing it again. It wasn’t a habit that he was trying to cultivate but he was finding it was one that was coming naturally to him more and more.
Dr. Caldwell stepped in with, “I think Jerry is exaggerating a bit in the Army’s ability to rapidly construct the defenses, but he may be onto something. There are a lot of trained and battle-tested people on those bases. There might just be a chance that they were able to mount an effective defense. I wonder....”
Neil asked, “Are there any other ideas?”
There was only silence from the others in the van. He was careful to look at each person directly to try and register any sort of response, whether verbalized or not. There was as much silence in their expressions as there was in their voices.
“Military bases win, then. I guess now we just gotta figure the best way to get there.”
Without another word, Neil put the van into gear and they were once again under way.
Chapter 3
Always eyeing the north, they seemed to head steadily to the west. Every time an avenue or a street opened up for them heading north, they would invariably run into a roadblock of some sort. They found themselves on International Airport Road heading west. They were approaching an overpass straddling Minnesota Drive, the Seward Highway’s little sister. Like the highway, Minnesota’s lanes moved largely north and south but its traffic was neither as heavy nor intense as the Seward.
And then, from the other side of the overpass appeared another car speeding in their direction. At first, Neil didn’t think anything of it, having settled into the role of driving friends around for an outing. From behind him though, Meghan asked incredulously, “Is that really a car coming at us?”
Chapter 4
The car, a diminutive black Volkswagen Passat, pulled alongside the van and casually its driver side window came down. From within peered out a haggard looking woman with swirling knots of grey smoke for hair and a slightly confused but hopeful expression on her wrinkled face.
Without taking her hands from the steering wheel, she nodded and barked out, “I’m Maggie. Where you headed?”
Neil looked over at the others in the van. He didn’t even know quite how to begin. Looking back over at Maggie, he laughed lightly and said simply, “It’s really good to see you, Maggie.”
“If you’re thinkin’ about headin’ to Anchorage International, don’t bother. It’s crawlin’ with those things...those demons from hell. I think there must’ve been some survivors holed up in there, but there’s no one there now. That place is ugly.”
Neil asked, “Is there a safe place we can go and talk? You’re the first person any of us has seen alive in weeks.” He could feel himself start to choke up a bit, surprising himself, “It’s really good to see you, Maggie. I can’t stress that enough.”
Emma had her hand to her mouth and felt that if she could anymore, she’d be crying as well. She had the tightness in her chest and the burn behind her eyes and nose, but no tears came. There just wasn’t anything left; no reserve of tears stashed for such an occasion. She hugged Jules tightly to her chest and let the warmth of hope find a small corner in her soul to set up camp and wait.
They went across the overpass and found their way to De La Vega Park. The sports park was home to a clutch of soccer fields and baseball diamonds. While it sat just south of a major thoroughfare and west of a highway, the entrance was removed and the parking lot open enough to provide a relative sense of comfort.
They pulled into a pair of parking spots that sat adjacent to one of the baseball fields. At first no one moved. To suggest that anyone should leave the security of their vehicle, regardless of how fleeting and insignificant the illusion of security, was just this side of blasphemy.
Maggie, hopping from her car and strolling around as if casually stretching her legs, encouraged them all to overcome the fear that lurked and threatened outside of their bubble. One by one, the van’s doors opened and they climbed out.
Chapter 5
“Where’re you folks comin’ from?” asked the wild-eyed Maggie.
“We’ve been in hiding for the past few weeks,” Neil explained. “When those things found us, we had to hit the road. That was just today...a little bit ago, in fact. Hell, it seems like days and days ago.”
Meghan asked, “Maggie, what about you? Where have you been? Are there any other survivors anywhere?”
“Me? I’ve just been keeping on the road mostly. Haven’t seen anybody in a couple of days but there are still people out there. Every time I start to thinkin’ that maybe I’m all that’s left, I run into a group like yours.”
Dr. Caldwell, his interest piqued, asked hopefully, “What about those other groups? Where are they now?”
Maggie spat into the dust of the baseball diamond on which they were standing. It was the same every time she ran into a new group of survivors. The fools always asked the same questions, hoped for the same answers, but shared in the same disappointments. It was so predictable. She was starting to grow weary of others.
“You folks have any food? It’s been a couple of days since I’ve eaten.”
Slightly frustrated that she didn’t answer his questions, the doctor took from the back of the open van a couple of granola bars and tossed them to her. He took one of the breakfast cereal bars for himself and started to chew on the honey flavored oats while he waited for the old woman to answer.
Jules and Danny wandered over to the bleachers and started climbing up and down the metal seats. Kim was amazed that, despite all that had happened and threatened to happen again and again and again, kids could still be kids. They could still seek out the simplest of distractions and find entertainment in the most unlikely places in the most unlikely ways. Jules was singing a children’s song, one that Kim hadn’t heard in what seemed a lifetime, while Danny was just sitting at the top of the bleachers and looking out over the baseball diamond as if he was awaiting the start of a game.
Dr. Caldwell continued, “So? About the others...?”
Maggie sat herself on the hood of her car and chewed one of the granola bars, stuffing the other bar into one of the many pockets on her military-style camouflaged fatigues. Along the side of the car, her sandaled feet dangled freely, banging out a rhythmless beat on the front quarter panel. She leaned her head back between her shoulder blades and
breathed deeply.
“When all of this began, I was on the road. I traveled from store to store, mainly the Walmarts and Targets in the area, and merchandised products for vendors. Mostly I dealt with greeting cards and sporting goods, but I really dabbled in just about anything. I liked the freedom of not being tied to one place for too terribly long. It was nice and really ideal for me. I could go into a store, make sure there were plenty of ‘get well’ or humorous birthday cards in each of the pockets, and then head on my way again. People at the stores knew me...customers, staff, managers. They all knew me.
“You know, it’s nice when you can go just about anywhere and people know your name. There’s an awful lot of comfort in that. Anyway, I was on my way to the south side Target when emergency broadcasts began to hit the airwaves. So I drove myself out to Kincaid Park and hid out near those old bunkers that look out over the inlet. You know the ones that I’m talking about? I waited for a couple of hours there, and then a few more and then a few more. By that time, the radio had stopped broadcasting. It was just quiet out there. Have any of you ever been around quiet that absolute? I mean, there was nothing. It kind of felt like I was the last living thing left on the planet. Like the good Lord had come down and scooped all of his children up in his great big, welcoming hands but had forgotten about me.
“It must have been about the third day, I was sitting on my car, looking out over the water when it hit me. I wonder if that was how it was with Saint Joan.”
Neil asked, “Who?”
Maggie smiled and looked up at the sky, which was by then a solid grey from horizon to horizon. “I heard my true calling. You see, in my previous life, I stocked shelves, hooks, and greeting card pockets by day. At night, I talked to others about the Lord and his message. I saved souls. I went to youth groups at churches and to meetings for drunks and drug addicts who needed to be reminded of His Glory–it’s just so easy for the weak and wicked to forget, you know?”
Alaskan Undead Apocalypse | Books 1 & 2 | Infection & Containment Page 24