by Jack Flacco
Wide-eyed, Randy latched his seatbelt firmly around his waist as Ranger shifted the gear one last time.
As Ranger’s truck took off into the distance, the zombie’s brains slid from the other vehicle to the ground in a gooey pile of mush.
Chapter 10
Wildside, Matty and Jon played a serious game of cards in the security of the once-thriving military silo. No one said anything. From across the table, Wildside swung his gaze on Matty. She pulled her cards closer to her chest, not wanting to hint at what she held as her hand. Wildside’s gaze then fixed on Jon, sitting next to Matty. He also clung to his cards with absolute secrecy. When Wildside made his move, the words spoken next came to him as shock.
“Go fish.” Matty nodded at the shark who thought he had the upper hand in the game.
The alarm from the access elevator rang loud.
“Ranger!” Jon tossed his cards on the table, and ran to the pickup with excitement. What did his hero bring back from his latest supply run? The others followed.
When the truck came to a full stop, Ranger and Randy stepped from the truck. Randy’s jaw fell as he gawked at the size of the subterranean hideout.
A surprised look captured Jon’s face. “Who are you?”
“This is Randy. I know y’all are just bursting with curiosity, but can we settle in before we start with all the questions?” Ranger carried his duffle bag of food to the kitchen area where he set it on the counter.
“Hi.” Matty said, her eyes meeting Randy’s.
“Hey.” Randy slammed the door closed to the truck. It shook him, not realizing how loud it sounded in the depths of the earth.
Unlike Matty, Wildside didn’t rush to welcome the guest. Instead, he turned his back on him, and helped Ranger unpack the supplies. Ranger sensed the immediate friction between them.
“I brought pasta.” Ranger attempted to break Wildside’s frosty mood.
But it was Jon who shouted, jumping up and down. “All right! With sauce?”
“Well,” Ranger searched the duffle bag. “Let’s have a look.”
Wildside kept his back turned toward the visitor. Randy noticed the chilly reception but made nothing of it. After all, he’d fought and killed eaters. What’s a bout of cold shoulder?
Ranger continued rattling off the list of items he had acquired while out in the wild. “I have canned olives, soup and cocktail fruit.”
Jon’s head dropped in disappointment. Where’s the pasta sauce?
“Wait a minute. What’s this?” Ranger pulled the last item from the bag like an advertisement on TV. “Oh, a can of momma’s favorite spaghetti sauce!”
Jon jumped on one spot, pumping his fists in the air. He then dashed to Ranger, hugging him with a force that had nearly propelled the undead killer backward. “Thank you!”
Moments after introductions, Randy focused his gaze on the redhead.
“My name is Matty.” She pointed to herself.
“Randy.” He did the same.
“I figured that when Ranger said, ‘This is Randy.’”
He chuckled then gulped. Matty’s the first girl he’s met since getting out of jail.
“Where did you come from?”
“Jessum. It’s a ways from here.”
“Really? Uhm, that’s where Wildside’s from.”
“Wildside?”
Wildside didn’t budge at the prompt. He kept busy with cleaning the inside of the sink.
Ranger broke from Jon’s grip and walked to the center of the silo, halfway between the kitchen and the truck. “All right, we might as well get it all out in the open. The donkey’s out in the pigsty but no one wants to talk about it ‘cause it just ain’t proper. Well, I want to know why the ass is playing with the hogs instead of hauling my goods to the confectionary, damn it.”
Wildside turned to Ranger, wiped his hands with a rag and pointed at Randy, “I have nothing to say to him.”
“Is this some sort of football grudge?” Matty asked.
“I don’t have to explain myself to anyone.” He threw the rag into the sink, stomped upstairs, and crashed into bed.
Stepping back, Matty drew her attention to Ranger who shook his head.
“Does this mean we’re not having pasta?” Jon asked.
* * *
During the meal, everyone except Wildside, who lay on his bed with a scowl on his face, delved into conversation under a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling that led to the kitchen table.
“You know.” Ranger spoke through a mouthful of spaghetti. “I can’t figure why any of this ever happened. I can understand if this whole thing worked out like a gigantic cover up with the military, but none of the places I’ve been to have shown where everyone went. By and large, other than a few zombies, everyone disappeared.”
Sipping on some pop, Matty thought about where she came from. “When I was in Las Vegas, it looked as if I arrived right when the change took place. Eaters and humans were out on the streets fighting against each other. Well, more like the eaters were attacking and winning against the humans.”
“It’s the water.” Jon jumped in.
“I know, you said that before.” Ranger pulled another forkful of spaghetti from his plate.
“I don’t know.” Matty played with her pop can while her meal grew cold. “There’s got to be more to it than that.”
Shifting in his seat in silence, Randy wanted to say something but bit his tongue not knowing if his comment would make sense.
Matty noticed. “What is it?”
“In the jail where I woke up, I found myself lost in a pit of dry bones.”
“Gross.” Matty batted her eyes, pushing away the remainder of her spaghetti dish.
“Cool!” Jon cried out, grabbing another forkful of the long, succulent pasta.
“The bones were human. There were lots. And those whose bones they belonged to didn’t die of natural causes. They had holes I could fit my finger in. Bullet holes, I’m sure.”
“Wait a minute. What were you doing in jail?” Matty asked. “You’re not some kind of murderer, are you?”
“I wish everyone would stop calling me that.” He smiled and gazed at her, wondering if she’d pick up on his humor. He didn’t take offense to what she said, but something about her made sense. He didn’t know what that something had to do with anything in his life. All he knew is she made him smile.
“Did you find any bullets?”
“I didn’t have time to look for any. I wanted to get out of there as soon as I could.”
Without thinking anymore about it, he showed them Warden Davis’ letter he had carried out of jail stating he walked among them as the savior of humanity. Matty read it aloud. Loud enough that Wildside, who remained isolated on the second floor, could hear.
“Why on earth would they consider you as the savior of humanity?” Ranger asked.
“All I know is I woke up starving, exhausted, and without a memory. I had fought one eater after another to get here at this table. I don’t know if the letter means anything anymore. I think because I survived whatever brought on the change, I became a savior. Something I’ve never felt since waking up.”
Ranger finished his plate, pushed it aside and said, with some sureness to the words. “At least you’re humble enough to recognize there could be a mistake with the way it all panned out for you.”
Upstairs, Wildside shook his head in disbelief of his ears. This prompted him to turn over on his pillow hoping not to catch the remainder of the conversation.
“It always happens this way.” Jon said.
“What does?” Matty asked, before taking a drink from her pop can.
“In the movies, lots of times the writer puts in red herrings to confuse the audience into believing one thing, all the while something else is the reason for things happening the way they do.”
“This is not a movie.”
“Oh, I know. It just feels that way.”
Opening a can of soda, Ranger sl
ugged it down. He then spoke of his thoughts in a crisp and precise way. “Y’all now messing with the devil. This here is a sad case of mistaken identity. With all due respect, you may be the savior of humanity, and this letter may give that impression, but I think it goes further. In Matty’s case, she saw the effects of the change that very day when she—”
“Hold on, Ranger,” she spoke out, as her wheels turned in her head. “Jon and I arrived at a bus terminal. What I saw were zombies attacking humans. Now that I think of it, can it be we were not affected by the change because we came from the buses and the change had already taken place?”
“That’s a good thought.” Ranger placed the soda can on the table.
“Just a minute.” Randy said. “My father and mother died in my house. My mother killed my father. He was human, she was not.”
“We don’t know if he was home when the change took place, do we?” Matty scanned everyone at the table as if she expected everyone to agree with her.
“Apparently, I was in town and nothing happened to me.”
“Yeah, but look at the letter. It sounded like the jail was attacked from the outside in. Maybe the same thing happened to your town.”
“It could have been eaters climbing the walls and attacking the towers.” Jon said.
Ranger gave Jon a look of disapproval. “Didn’t you ever watch Saturday morning cartoons when you were little?”
Jon laughed. “Never liked them much. I’d stay up late watching the classic horror channel instead. Where do you think I got this stuff?”
Matty complained too, “I know, I know. He loves classic horror, what can I say?”
Footsteps from the top of the stairs of the second floor pounded one after the other in a slow manner. “You really don’t remember?”
Randy answered. “I don’t remember anything after I woke up from jail.”
Wildside took a few more steps down the stairs. “What happened to your mother?”
“She was killed. Both my parents. Dead.”
Matty and Ranger looked at each other wondering if Wildside’s mood had changed.
“I’m sorry to hear.” Wildside hopped from the last step, walked over to the table, and held out his hand. “My name is Wildside. Ranger named me that and I’ve been that since.”
Randy shook his hand.
Wildside then asked the question on everybody’s mind. “Are there any leftovers?”
“Pull up a chair.” Ranger smiled. “There’s plenty in the pot on the stove.”
Wildside grabbed a plate from the cupboard, unstrained a clump of loose spaghetti, and covered his plate with it. Ambling across the floor, he sat next to Ranger, across from Matty. Chomping down on the pasta, he offered his opinion. “Whatever caused the change from human to zombie, affected everyone. I think, Randy, you’re the real deal. Something in you prevents the change from occurring. Whoever placed you in that jail, knew it. They saw whatever was going on around them, and they saw you staying the same. Whoever put you in that jail was in on the whole thing. Whoever did it was not trying to save you…”
The room fell quiet, waiting on his words.
Wildside stopped chewing and stared at him. “They wanted to study you.”
Everyone avoided eye contact not wanting to think what the word study meant. But no one could stop the thoughts from entering their minds. Was he tortured? Did he feel much pain? How many were there who needed studying?
“That makes sense.” Randy said. “In jail I came across an infirmary with bottles of green goo looking like IV hookups for patients. Next to it was an observatory. I’m thinking the whole thing was a set up to study my blood’s effect on the eater’s change—if in fact my blood could reverse the change. I don’t know, maybe I’m too tired to think right now.”
“Or maybe you’re right.” Wildside wolfed another forkful of pasta.
Ranger gave up a cough, left the table, and grabbed his shotgun from the umbrella rack. “All right, that’s enough conspiracy theories for me for the night. I’m heading out.”
Matty and Randy shot stares at each other as if they had the same idea. She leapt to her feet first. Randy followed. Ranger didn’t check his back. He had it in mind to leave the complex without much of a fuss. He assumed wrong.
“Where are we going?” Matty asked.
“What are you planning to do?” Randy added.
Ranger twirled around with both palms facing the kids. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m going out for a walk. I need some alone time.”
“Sure you are.” Matty drew her gun, and checked the ammo. “By now, I know when you’re looking to shoot up some place. I’m coming with you.”
Randy nodded.
“Now wait a minute, we’ve been through this before…”
Matty raised her eyebrows and gave him the kind of smile that would melt an iceberg. She knows they’ve argued about this before. And she didn’t give up until Ranger gave in. Hard to argue with a girl who hops into a truck and refuses to get out. But this time, she didn’t hop in. She’s gonna wait until he invites her, which shouldn’t be that long. Not with that smile.
Ranger stammered and continued, confused. “Uh, like I said, we’ve been through this before. We, we, we…oh, t’hell with it. Hop in.”
“Me too?” Randy pointed at his chest.
“You might as well. I’d rather fight a horde of eaters and lose a leg in the process. At least I’ll know I have a chance. Picking a fight with teenagers? That’s a losing battle.”
They piled into the vehicle.
Ranger shouted from his driver side window. “Wildside?”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Look after Jon.” Wildside shook his head, but smiled. “So, Jon are you in the mood for popcorn?”
“Whoo-hoo! You bet!”
Chapter 11
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Matty asked.
“Shh. Yeah, two-and-a-half miles from the foot of the highway.” Ranger answered without flinching.
“What makes you think we’ll find what we’re looking for here?” Randy asked.
“I don’t know. I just don’t wanna be chasing eaters for the rest of my life.” Ranger straightened the baseball cap on his head.
The moon’s gleaming light led the trio through the darkened desert. Not many words passed between them as they hiked their way from the truck.
“We should be coming up on it just over that ridge.” Ranger pointed forward with his shotgun at the ready.
Randy griped while following Ranger’s footsteps. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea. I mean, if we find this place, what are we going to do? Break in? I broke out of a zombie-infested place. I don’t need to break into one.”
Matty glared at him and asked in a very exact tone, “Then why did you come?”
“I want to know where I belong in this mess we’re in. I want answers.”
Ranger jumped in with his own idea, “If any answers exist, the military will know. They’re the ones who create the questions.”
Traveling in a triangle, Ranger leading, Matty on the right, Randy on the left, the party carried forward until the ridge.
“Both of you stay here, I’ll call you when it’s safe. If anything happens to me, here are the keys.” Ranger tossed them to Randy. “Don’t look back. Run. Head for the truck and back to the silo. I can take care of myself.”
Moments later, Ranger disappeared over the ridge. Matty found a rock and sat. Randy joined her, facing the opposite direction. His eyes darted back and forth on the ground wondering how he could say something witty, yet not let it sound as if it were a cliché.
They spoke at the same time not knowing they had the same intention.
“When—”
“What—”
“You go first.” Randy said.
“No, you go ahead.”
“When did you meet Ranger?”
“What makes you think I met Ranger? How do you know I’m not his daughter?”
He chuckl
ed, turning his head to her, “You have deep red hair, emerald green eyes, and you smile more than he does. I don’t think you’re his at all. You’re more, how can I say this without insulting Ranger—refined. You’re more refined. And, you don’t sound like you’re from Oklahoma.”
* * *
Careful in keeping his head low, Ranger trotted to the top of the ridge without any expectation of what he may find. Swimming in thought, he had seen it all. From eaters that positioned themselves as statues, to the undead that attacked with the fury of ravaging animals, eating of whom they may desire. Attacked on multiple occasions, Ranger kept his sidearm in reach, never letting go of the prospect of an assault. He understood blood drives the eaters to frenzy. He understood he could not become an eater by the ingestion of their fluids or a bite. So, in his mind, he reasoned, eaters became that way by other means. If he understood how, he could help by way of eradicating the offending agent and moving on to have a peaceable life like he had before the change took place.
When Ranger reached the top of the ridge, he swiveled his cap a full one-hundred-and-eighty degrees. In a slow rise, he peeked over the ridge to investigate. Blinding white lights flooded Matthew Airbase. Surrounded by a chain-linked fence, only the crickets played their melodies. Trucks stationed on all sides of the base showed no movement. Guard tower lights passed their beams over the perimeter of the fence. Entrance checkpoints appeared empty.
Ranger needed more proof the military had abandoned the once-bustling area.
* * *
Under the light of the moon, the teens continued deep in conversation.
“Don’t you remember anything of your past?” Matty asked.
“I remember everything from the time I woke up at the jail to right here, right now. Everything else is not there. I mean, I know history. George Washington was our first president. I know that. But if you ask me about my birthday, where I grew up, what my parents’ names were. I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” Randy rubbed his temples.
Matty placed one hand over the other on her lap. Her subconscious reacted to the complement Randy paid her, calling her refined. Once realizing it, she separated her hands to hold on to the rock on either side of the boulder. “I try not to remember the past. It’s too hard. The past wants to haunt me.”