by Fitch, E. M.
There was a car, rusty and dented, the windshield broken in, just below the canopy. Emma was being lowered directly behind it, one hand wrapped in the ends of Andrew's jacket, the other firmly gripping a long screwdriver. The car would shield her, at least for the moment when her feet hit the ground.
She landed with a jerk on the pavement, almost losing her footing. She reached out her free hand instinctively to the rusted car, scraping her finger. She hissed, immediately pulling her cut finger to her mouth, sucking the salty blood pooling at the tip.
The moans shifted. A hundred yellow eyes turned and stared.
She didn't need Jack's shout telling her to run.
She could feel them behind her, hear the breath as it rattled through their lungs. They groaned with insatiable hunger and for one insane moment she had the urge to turn and shout at them.
Why chase me? I'm one of you!
She ran for the wide opening at the entrance of the housing complex. Her finger had fallen from her mouth the moment she took off. Her arms pumped by her side. Drops of blood were flecked along her path and the infected seemed to like that, the cadence of their pounding heels shifted as they followed her through the grass to the main drive. She hoped they were all following her, hoped Jack knew enough to shut up after that one initial shout, not give the infected bodies any reason to stay behind.
The complex appeared to be empty. Trash was piled at the end of each driveway, black bags ripped into shreds years ago and whatever garbage was in them pounded into gray insignificance after years of scavenging animals and rain. Emma passed a children's bike, the once colorful tassels hanging from the handlebars all a ratty grey now, the frame completely rusted. She could hear the horde behind her getting closer, the rustles and crashes as they ran straight into the garbage bins and debris that was scattered over the lawns and road.
She ran straight, off the drive and over the small, unkempt bushes between two of the beige condos. They were close together, she could have reached out and touched both buildings as she sprinted through. She had a small moment to wonder that her leg wasn't hurting as badly as she thought it would before she got to the end of the space. She looked over her shoulder, watched as the horde came up to the building and slammed to a stop, bodies crushing upon bodies as they tried to physically push their way through. A small smile of satisfaction tugged at her lips and then her breath stalled in her chest.
Fingers, cold and bony skimmed her jaw and reached for her hair. In a move from an old movie she was bent back, a hand wrapped in her hair, a mouth lowering to hers. Its breath was foul and bits of dead flesh hung from between its teeth. She flung her head back and felt something snap. His wrist, the fingers still tangled in her hair, broke and she was able to scramble away. The man followed, his jaw working, his black tongue lolling forward as his teeth clicked together. She brought her hand up hard, sinking the screwdriver through the soft skin under his chin and up into his brain. The body collapsed, pinning her to the curb. She leant forward as she fell, her head spared from the concrete as her chin pressed into his rotted shoulder. The flesh gave under the hard point of her chin and the smell invaded her nostrils.
The urge to vomit was almost overpowering. The skin gave under her hands as she tried to push the limp body away. The bones beneath felt brittle and sharp without the flesh to protect them. Moans rose around her and she could see, from beneath the dead body, that the infected horde had started to push through the buildings. Emma twisted on the ground, wriggling free. The screwdriver slipped from her hands as the body fell to the ground. She didn't have time to grab it. Already, jaws were working near enough that she could feel the rush of air as the teeth snapped shut. She picked the clearest path and sprinted.
Ahead there were condos, probably open or easy enough to get into. She ran right by them, wanting as much distance between her and the horde as possible. She tore into the forest behind the complex, breaking through the dead underbrush. She ignored the snags on her clothing, the prickers that tore at her exposed skin.
There was an oak tree. She took a running leap at the lowest branch and just caught it, swinging her feet up like she used to do on the monkey bars as a kid. Gripping the branch and still hanging upside down, she took a searing breath. She wasn't accustomed to running like that and suddenly she thought of when she had teased her sister for wanting to exercise more, back when they were in the firehouse.
It had been right after Kaylee had been stuck outside, just after Emma was bit. Once the world settled on its axis again, Kaylee back and Emma untied, it was the first thing Kaylee had insisted on doing. She and Anna getting up and doing pushups and yoga while Emma slept in. It didn't seem so silly anymore.
The infected had found their way to her tree. She pulled herself upright and climbed another ten feet, stepping carefully and testing her weight on each branch before stepping on them. The infected were loud below her, climbing over each other and reaching for the branches. Emma tensed initially, watching one man's handless arm sling over the lowest branch, but another tugged him down, trying to climb over him. The mass of them swelled and some were trampled underneath, creating a mound of groaning bodies at the base of the tree.
If they had all night, if there was no rest, no stopping them, they might have been able to get at her. Even if it were morning, if they had a few hours to work on it, trampling more and more bodies beneath and climbing over the twitching corpses, maybe then. But now, with the sun less than an impression of light in the sky, Emma knew they'd never have time to crawl high enough to reach her.
She let her gaze float outward, passed the half-naked, rotting pile of body parts beneath her and towards the city that Jack wanted to destroy. She could see the outline from her perch in the tree. She tried to imagine it all lit up, the way it would have been before the infection. Here and now, the buildings were tall, dark beacons of a time that would never be again. Gravestones rising from a lost city, testaments of death that could be seen for miles.
Jack came to find her half an hour later. The bodies fell. Not all at once, but close together, drifting into restless sleep like toddlers. She shimmied her way across a branch, letting Jack catch her as she fell the five feet to the ground. The infected didn't stir. He handed her Andrew's leather jacket and she slipped into it quietly.
They found a car and a clear road back at the gas station. Jack already had their bag waiting on the passenger side seat. Emma slid in and let her head fall against the head rest.
"There's one thing," Jack said, sitting behind the wheel. Emma let her head roll towards him as he reached to the center console and turned the heat on full. "It's you and me now, together. And there's one thing I need you to agree on. They're alive. Until we see otherwise, they'll always be alive. Kaylee is alive.”
His face broke when he said her name. She saw his throat bob. Emma nodded once before turning away, resting her forehead on the cool glass of the passenger side window.
Chapter Eight
Crashes and gunshots brought Kaylee out of hazy dreams filled with dark hallways and taunting whispers. She jerked upright, the ghost of the voices still hissing in her brain. Pops, like firecrackers, burst around her and the acrid smell of gunpowder was sharp in the early morning air.
"In the buses!”
"Everyone, move!”
She stood, her eyes raking over the borders of the Circle. Disembodied arms were pressing between the vehicles, flesh caked under dirty fingernails.
"Is this you?" Patricia screamed, rounding on Michael. Her eyes were bloodshot, wielding around the circle and the press of the infected bodies. "Did you do this?”
Her cries rose above the moans. Someone was tugging on Kaylee's arm and she spun, her fingers wrapping around the etched handle of her gun. Anna's eye were wide and fearful. "Help me," she mouthed. Her words were swallowed in a burst of noise from a backfiring engine.
Kaylee stooped and pulled one of Andrew's arms over her shoulder. Anna took his other side. The tube that h
ung from his chest swung freely. There was no time to secure it. Anna put the mouth of the bottle between her teeth and bit, keeping it from sloshing as she and Kaylee dragged Andrew to the nearest vehicle.
Kaylee almost dropped Andrew as she reached out to bang on the closed doors. The school bus wasn't full, only a few bodies were perched inside, staring at Kaylee and Anna. They weren't moving to help.
"Open the doors!" Anna shouted, hefting Andrew up on her shoulder. Her words were lost in the noise of the infected. No one inside the bus moved.
"Get out of my way," someone hissed, pushing the group to the side. Patricia moved in front of them and the doors slid open. Kaylee grabbed them after Patricia had gone through. She held it open, glaring at the people inside, daring them to force her to leave.
No one left their seats.
Kaylee and Anna struggled to get Andrew on board. He was awake now, groaning and coughing. Anna dropped him as soon as they were up the steps, rolling him to his back and getting the tubing back in the water bottle. Moments later the bus jerked to a move, the driver falling in line behind the other vehicles that had comprised the Circle, leaving the infected behind.
Murmurs began low and then grew in volume, finally breaking over the noise of the engine, the bumps of the shocks along the road.
"What happened?" Kaylee whispered, looking to Anna. She shook her head.
"It was so fast," Anna answered. "There were look outs and everything but it was so fast.”
Kaylee sat back, her hand resting reflexively on Andrew's chest, counting the breaths as they passed through his lungs. She counted a dozen before someone spoke.
"Where's James?”
Patricia kept her eyes forward, through the windshield and to the road. The rest of the group was behind her, but Kaylee and Anna looked up into her face. Her teeth were grit, her jaw tight. "He's gone.”
"Bit? Or-“
"Gone. Dead," she answered. "Doesn't matter how."
"I say it damn well does matter!”
Kaylee looked passed Patricia to the man now standing in the bus aisle. He kept his fists clenched at his sides and Kaylee got the impression he was ready to jump Patricia.
"Michael says bit," Patricia said, turning for the first time and staring down the man in the aisle. "He was my cousin. Sit your ass down, Tony.”
Tony looked like he was chewing his words with distaste; but he did sit, fuming.
"Where are we going?" Andrew whispered. Kaylee hadn't realized he was awake. She bent low to his ear.
"We got overrun. It's okay, we're safe.”
"My dad," he said, turning to look at her. She caught his gaze and held.
"I'll help you look. We will," Kaylee promised. "But you have to heal first. We need you safe.”
Andrew let his head roll to the other side, his eyes clenched tightly shut.
They drove for two hours, stopping inside a gated area that had once been a impound lot. The fencing was in good repair and the back part of the lot was bordered by a cinder block wall. The vehicles pulled into a wide circle, leaving a couple strategic gaps between bumpers. As soon as the wheels stopped, the people were out. A fire was started in a steel drum, already in place in the center of the Circle. Women pulled pots and pans out of the back seats of rusted cars. Some grabbed other bags, all wrapped in plastic sheeting. It must have been a well used position. They seemed to have several of them, wandering nomads with seasonal homes.
Kaylee helped ease Andrew out of the bus. His breathing was coming easier and he insisted on being propped up. Anna seemed to think this was a good idea. The rest of the people ignored them. Kaylee looked around, quickly assessing the group and trying to find Rebecca, the only friendly person so far. At first glance, she didn't see her. But many of the people had left the Circle, out hunting for whatever belongings they had stashed the last time they were camped here.
Kaylee checked the chamber of her handgun and after a quick nod to Anna, slipped out behind the bus. She had a feeling this was a fend-for-yourself kind of group and there was no guarantee anyone would offer them food or supplies again. They would be grieving tonight. James was lost, others as well. Kaylee didn't know them. But she knew the effect of massive loss on group morale. The images of her loved ones; her parents, Quinton, friends she had seen bitten, friends who had tried to bite her; they flashed in her thoughts and she uttered a quick, all encompassing prayer before shutting that part of her mind down. For the first time in a long time, she felt her fingers drifting subconsciously to her pocket, to the hard, oval imprint of her mother's St. Jude medal that resided there.
St. Jude, protect us all.
The patron saint of impossible causes, it seemed fitting that it was he who would land in her pocket.
The impound lot was locked up, chains slung loosely through the sliding fence at the entrance. A man stood there, propped against the chainlink fence, a gun leaning against the links next to him.
"Can I get out?" she asked, nodding towards the locked gate. He looked her up and down, taking his time, and then spit on the ground at her feet.
"Once it's locked, it's locked," he said, grunting. "I don't make the rules.”
Kaylee didn't bother arguing. She turned and headed for the back of the lot. People watched her suspiciously as she wove through the abandoned cars. One woman shielded the trunk she was rooting through from view, as though Kaylee might reach over and snatch whatever she wanted. Kaylee didn't make eye contact. She headed for the cinderblock wall. She was tired and grungy. She knew she shouldn't be so hungry, not after the venison she had breakfast, but still her stomach felt hollow. Anna would need food too, and Andrew. There was a pile up of rusted cars pushed back against the wall. She climbed to the hood of one, then onto the roof. She reached for the top of the wall and hoisted herself up, not bothering to ask anyone's permission.
Whatever was stored in the lot would already be claimed. She would take her chances in the streets.
She had no idea where they were, possible South Dakota, maybe even Wyoming. She hadn't been paying attention to how far they had traveled. She only knew the goal was Alaska. Or, that had been the goal. The wind gusted around her, her hair flying back from her face. It was cold. Snow would be falling soon and what then? How would she find her sister and Jack?
The streets around her were abandoned and the the stores looked looted. Window were broken out, leaves and debris had drifted into the aisles. Kaylee didn't bother with those. She saw a side street ahead, lined with small homes. She took off on a jog, grimacing into the slight wind. Her muscles warmed as she ran, aching in that familiar way. She was sore from chasing those men through the woods, her body still healing from the exertion and terror of that night. But still, it felt good to stretch, to move free of prying eyes. She kept her breathing even and soft, jogging to a stop at the front step of the first home. The screen door hung off its hinges but the door behind it was locked when Kaylee pressed on it. She figured that was a good thing, maybe nothing was wandering inside. She snuck to the back, her footsteps light on the dry grass. All the windows were intact, the back door still shut.
Kaylee picked a rock out of an overgrown flower garden. It had once been artistically placed, now it was nearly covered with overgrown weeds and out of control grass. She hurled it through the back door window. She waited, ears pricked for the telltale shuffling, the moans that rose when the infected sensed food was near. There was nothing. The door swung open on creaking hinges as soon as she unbolted it. Her nose wrinkled as she moved into the dusty home, something smelled strongly of rot. She blinked, momentarily blinded by the water that rose in her eyes at the smell. She let the door hang open, hoping to clear whatever odor it was that hung around the house.
Her muscles locked when she heard the groans. She was poised to run, gun in her hand. But she couldn't pinpoint the source of the moans. Outside the wind rustled through dead branches, leaves kicked over the brown lawn. There was a soft cry of birdsong before that fell quiet, too. No
, the creature was inside.
But it wasn't coming closer.
Kaylee moved cautiously towards the kitchen cupboards, gritting her teeth as they slid open on creaky hinges. There were two cans of peaches, several cans of baked beans, and a jar of tomato paste. In the next, she found a large box of unopened granola bars and she forgot the moaning for a moment as she ripped one open, shoving the entire thing in her mouth. The groaning shifted, now accompanied by a loud scraping. Kaylee swallowed roughly and pressed forward. If the creature got any louder, she was afraid it might attract others. There was a short, narrow hall off the kitchen, a door on either side. She pressed her ear to each door, pausing for a moment, but the sounds were coming from deeper in the house.
She stepped into a small living room next, saw a gingham couch and matching curtains that were faded badly and now hung limp in the dirty windows. The smell of rot was intensifying, growing with each step she took and she gagged, not willing to throw up the food she just ate. She took a shallow breath through her mouth and moved forward.
She didn't need to open the next door, it already hung ajar, the body inside moving in restless agitation.
It had been a boy's room and he had been young. Younger than she when the infection hit. He had liked astronomy, one wall was painted a dark blue and had constellations stenciled in neat lines, faded glow-in-the-dark stars glued between them. In one corner, a busted solar system model made of painted styrofoam balls hung limply from the ceiling. Mars had fallen off and had rolled towards the bed.