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Authors: Valerie Lioudis,Kristopher Lioudis

Aftershock: A Collection of Survivors Tales (15 page)

BOOK: Aftershock: A Collection of Survivors Tales
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I wasn’t going to hang around out here all day, but I did pause to wonder why the hell they would have chosen this spot to drop their payload. There were a fair amount of papers scattered over the parking lot, but it was by no means covered. The breeze has already begun picking them up and blowing them toward the highway. I wondered again where the hell I was and where I was going to go from here.

“Fuck it,” I said to nobody, “I’ll deal with that shit tomorrow.”

I read the flyer as I made my way back inside. Some outfit claiming to be a safe haven. Apparently they had walls and food, weapons and safety. Apparently, they were trying to consolidate those of us who were left. Apparently, shit really had gone to hell while I was relaxing in my little hotel room.

According to the coordinates on the flyer this place was located somewhere in southern New Jersey. Great, the armpit of the east coast. I’d been through the northern part of the state once on my way to New York. Interesting smell is all I can say. Maybe I would head that way anyway. Where the hell else was I going to go? Of course, it would help to know where the hell I was now. Maybe there was a map somewhere inside, or at least a piece of mail.

I scooped up the gear I collected and made my way back up the stairs. I figured I would spend a night in the caf and head out in the morning. I could spend a little more time searching the building. It dawned on me that if this was a government building that they might have a motor pool. That would mean a whole line of gassed up vehicles with keys in same general vicinity. Beats digging through corpses’ pockets trying to find some keys then trying to figure out which vehicle they belonged to. It also beat the fucking hell out of going on foot.

I was tired and hungry and pissed off, but at least I had a destination. Such as it was. I dropped down at a table and rummaged through my bag for a can of whatever. Tuna. Great. I hate tuna. Fuck it. I scooped it into my mouth with my fingers and washed that horrible fucking taste out of my mouth with a bottle of water. I could replace them from the stores in the kitchen. I wandered around the room kicking at garbage and I decided to check out the maintenance closet. I listened for any noise coming from inside, I had learned that lesson already, and when I didn’t hear any I pulled the door open. Pretty standard cleaning closet, map, broom, bucket, cleaning fluids, and there, in the back leaning against a shelf was a three-foot-long crow bar. The curved end was painted bright orange with the name “Cappy” scrawled in indelible ink.

“Hello Cappy,” I said as I hefted it in one hand judging the weight, “You just might be my new best friend.” For a silent weapon I could do a hell of a lot worse. I went back to my table and set down the crow bar. I sat there staring at it for while just letting the realization that the whole world, or at least the east coast had gone to shit. I was living in a world where crazy, fucking cannibals roamed the streets and if you didn’t kill them the right way, they would just keep coming.

My dad used to use the word “fuck” a lot. Like, literally every other word a lot. Hearing it over and over kind of desensitizes you to it. It loses a lot of its impact, but as I sat there at that table idly fingering that crow bar contemplating the last few months, or however long it had been, I suddenly started laughing. Because never in my life, or my dad’s, had there ever been a more appropriate situation to express the exact meaning of that word.

So I sat there, staring alternately between the crow bar and the flyer trying to figure out my next move.

 

 

Mick

 

 

Amy was almost gone a few times since we left the town. She pushed us all away. For days she stared out the passenger’s window, with nothing to say to the rest of us. There was only a hollow shell of a woman, eyes glazed over, unable to function. I did my best to keep the kids from going crazy too. It was selfish, but I couldn’t handle anymore zombies, and that is what Amy had become.

Then she got angry. Damned if that woman didn’t wake up one morning with revenge and hellfire in her soul. Supply runs became dangerous as hell because she had become reckless. I don’t know where she found it, but she started using a bat on the dead. It was as if she wanted to get as close as possible to them, and get sprayed by as much goo as she could when she cracked their skulls. The problem was, she no longer cared if she lived or died. A woman without fear doesn’t watch out for danger, and even worse she goes looking for it.

I think Garett got tired of saving her ass when she got in over her head. He knew we needed her, not just to be around, but to actually be around. We had stopped to see if we could syphon some gas, and get some much needed food and water out of a pileup we came across, when Amy spots a few moaners shuffling in the wood line. They would have never known we were there, except she starts tapping the bat on a car’s hood.

“What the hell do you think you are doing Aunt Amy?” Garett barks at her.

“Fuck’s it look like Garett?” she flatly replied.

“I don’t really know anymore? Are you trying to get killed, or are you trying to get us all killed? From what I can see, you could give a shit about whether we live or die anymore.” He spit back.

“You should respect your elders, Garett”

“I’ll respect you when you start acting like an adult again!”

As they got louder, more zombies noticed. The few in the woods were within biting reach now, and in the distance more could be heard making their way towards us. Amy starts swinging away with a rage that could only be appeased by death. One, two went down, and then another. Each swing brought more destruction, not just to the dead, but to Amy. She looked like a feral animal.

Seven, eight, nine, all down in an instant. Then the group began to overwhelm her. She couldn’t keep up with the numbers. No amount of rage could fight away the wave of rancid, rotting flesh that was soon going to engulf her. That’s when Garett and I stepped in. Within minutes the zombies were down on the ground, with no threat to rise again. In the middle of the carnage stood Amy covered in what was once blood.

Garett walked up to her, pulled his arm back and bitch slapped her. “Grow the fuck up! We are done with and tired of your shit. She died Aunt Amy, and it sucks. But this whole God damned world sucks right now and we need you to stop being such a jackass. Now get in the car and knock this shit off. If you can’t do that, if Mick and I are going to have to spend the rest of our days pulling your ass out of the fire because you don’t feel like living anymore, then just fucking say so. That way we can leave your sorry ass on the side of the road with your dumbass bat and you can spend the last few minutes of your life swinging away. Otherwise, we need you to be right here, right now. Helping us figure out how to get my other sister to a safe place. Do you understand me?”

She shook her head slowly, and broke down in tears. But the boy did the right thing. She climbed into the car, and that was the last time she played chicken with the zombies. She cried till she was out of tears, then she slept for a whole day. When she woke up she was back to her old self. All she needed was a good kick to the ass, and I am so grateful that Garett had enough courage to give it to her.

Days went by, and we only talked about the here and now. We avoided any real conversation, and many nights we were silent on watch. The car started to feel like a prison. The weather was turning warm again, so I decided we would find a roof to get some fresh air. It sucks that you just can’t decide something like that, and magically find one. Everything takes forever now, and simple things like finding a safe place for a quick rest test your patience.

On one of the long stretches of highway we drove past a rest stop. You know, one of those plazas, miles away from anything else. The kind of place a trucker used to thank God for when barreling down the open road. Well, the road wasn’t as open anymore, but there was still one guy that was thanking God for this rest stop. It took a bit of maneuvering to guide the SUV into the parking lot, but it was going to be well worth it.

We angled the truck to make climbing up on the roof as easy as possible. After we had left the town where our little angel was killed, I had picked up a ladder when I came across it. It stayed strapped to the top of the truck. Best damn plan I came up with so far. If the only way up is our ladder, and we pull it up with us, we all get a good night’s sleep. We set up our campsite, and I was worried that maybe I had made a mistake. Maybe this would be too much like our home in paradise and I just sent Amy back into a tailspin.

The kids seemed to relax the second they got out into the sun. Both of them lay down on a blanket they had spread across the roof. They looked like sunbathers; all that was missing was the sand. I pulled out the grill, and lit up a fire. That morning I shot a rabbit I had seen on the side of the road. It wasn’t much, but fresh meat was a treat these days.

We spent the whole day laughing and relaxing for the first time in more days than I care to remember. Amy didn’t shut down, or freak out. The tense look on her face had drained away, and, she finally looked at ease. Night came, and the kids crawled into their tent. They had been sleeping in the truck for so long. They couldn’t help but fall into a deep sleep once they were able to lie all the way down.

I tapped the pack of smokes I had found. They were stale, like almost everything left in this world. Stale smokes, stale food, the air even had a stale feel to it. Amy checked in on the kids, and then she found her way over to me.

“Can I see your lighter?”

“You don’t smoke.”

“I don’t smoke cigarettes, but in high school I was known to smoke something else every now and then. Did I show you what I found when routing through a backpack on one of our runs?” She reached into her pocked and pulled out a joint. “It’s been years, but I am pretty sure I will enjoy this right now.”

“Why Amy, I never knew you weren’t always a responsible goody two shoes!”

“Fuck you.” She giggled.

She sank into her lawn chair. Staring up at the stars, she started to sing. It was soft, and I never heard the song before, but it was beautiful and full of sadness. Passing the joint to me, she brushed her fingers against mine. I hadn’t realized we hadn’t touched since we left that town. A spark of electricity passed between our fingers.

“Ow! You shocked me!” she cried.

“Is that such a bad thing?” I countered. In one swift move I grabbed her arm, and pulled her on my lap.

With her curled up in my arms, I finally relaxed. We lay there looking at the stars. Silence was not a threat this time, it was a comfort. Her body tensed, and I feared she was going to pull away. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Suddenly, her lips were pressed against mine. It had been so long since I had been with a woman. Even before the outbreak, it had been a long couple of years.

I had divorced my wife, and unlike many people, I became celibate. Not by choice, I was a bitter angry prick, and had no urge to find another she beast to turn all crazy and walk out on me. Looking back, my ex-wife leaving with the kids was probably the smartest thing she ever did. I was a real asshole to them, and wasn’t much of a man. It’s crazy how it took the end of the world for me to figure all that out.

Now, at that moment, I had a woman who was so far out of my league, that before this entire clusterfuck happened would have clutched her purse close if we passed on an empty street, grinding up against me. I wasn’t going to lose this moment again. I scooped her up and carried her to my tent. I half expected her to push me away. What a happy surprise for me when the opposite happened, and she took the lead.

Within seconds of laying her down, she had stripped off all of her clothes. She must have been stunning before, now she was still gorgeous, but way too skinny. I made a mental note to feed her more. No woman should have all of their ribs showing, I like my girls with curves, and hers had all but disappeared. As I began to kiss my way down her body, she trembled in my arms. I almost didn’t make it to the actual act, just touching her made my body want to explode.

Unexpectedly, she pulled me off and flipped me on my back. She ripped my pants off, and rose up above me. That was the most perfect sight I had ever seen in my entire life. I couldn’t hold back any longer, and I tried to suppress the roar that was building as I climaxed. Panting, she collapsed on top of me. I could feel the shit eating grin spreading across my face. Well, there goes an attempt to play it cool.

“Fuck, that is exactly what I needed.”

“Me… too … it… was…” I tried to reply, but was still out of breath.

“I know this is going to come across really needy, but can I just lay here with you wrapped around me for a bit?”

“Uh-huh…” I wheezed, pulling her within my arms.

“I’m going to try to be here more. You all deserve that.”

I was going to respond, but I heard her breath change to that soft sleep breathing. I laid there for a few hours just enjoying this moment. I didn’t know if it would ever happen again, and I wanted to imprint this night into my memory. Whenever it got bad again, this is what I would think of. I meant to get her back to her tent by morning, but I dozed off before that happened.

I awoke to the sound of Garett zipping the tent back up, and storming away. Damn, I thought. I knew the kid would take this bad, and having a pissy teenager stomping around was definitely going to kill my mood. Popping a pair of pants on, I snuck out of the tent hoping not to wake Amy. Garett and I were going to have to have a man to man. What I saw over the horizon stopped that plan dead in its tracks.

If you squinted, the whole landscape looked as if it was moving. The scene resembled waves crashing on a distant shore. Within minutes the movement came into focus. The dead filled the road, and the woods surrounding it. This was unlike any swarm I had ever witnessed. They went on for as far as you could see, in every direction. They stumbled past the building, like a massive flood. Pushing each other forward, the pace was slow, but never ending.

I don’t know if a city had emptied, or if like droplets of water this group had pulled itself together. Garett and I ducked down so that we could peer over the edge of the building to watch, but not enough to draw attention. Fear rushed through both of us. We had seen so much, dealt with so many dead, but the number in this group was terrifying. How could we survive if there were this many?

What if there were more groups like this out there? Are all the dead making their way to each other? The questions only led to more questions. We had no answers, and there was no safe way to get any. I woke Amy and Zoe. Then we just sat there, for hours. After a while we realized we didn’t need to hide, just needed to be quiet. The dead didn’t look up unless a noise drew their attention that way. We decided not to push our luck, and tensely perched in chairs waiting for the sea of dead to end.

Eventually, it did, but the damage to our morale was done. We had gone from the highest we had felt in months, to completely hopeless. The decision was made to stay put on the rooftop for a few days longer. We wanted to give that mass of rotting flesh a huge head start in wherever they were going. Rethinking our route to the safe zone was a priority, too. Where that group went, all my instincts were screaming go in the opposite direction.

On the third day after the million zombie march, a new sight was seen moving on the horizon. A group of cars, trucks, jeeps, motorcycles, and campers were heading in our direction. They were much slower than the zombies, because they had to stop every few feet to make enough room for all the vehicles to get through. Part of me was wary of the people, and another part was jumping for joy. We had enough time to decide if we wanted to flag them down before they reached us.

“I say we signal them.” Garett pushed.

“I agree, but we have to discuss the risks.” Amy countered.

“What risks? We are looking for people. That was the point of us leaving. You finding Mick worked out wonderfully for the two of you,” he spat at her.

Blushing, Amy shot me an embarrassed look. She must have picked up on Garret’s disgust with our actions. I reminded myself to talk to the boy the next time we were alone. He wasn’t going to screw this up for me. I refused to be cock blocked by a sixteen year old kid. Not now, when you don’t know how long you have left.

“Fine, we wave them down.” I stated. “Just be on the alert for danger. We don’t know these people, they could be trouble.”

“Whatever.” He snarkily said in that tone that only a teenager can use seriously.

The caravan was much closer now, and we all stood up and started waving our arms. They stopped where they were, and it looked as if they were having a meeting of their own about coming to see us. That made me feel better. If they had gunned it towards us, I would have been worried about the mental state of these people.

As they made their way up to our truck, I got a look at the supplies this group had. It was an amazing sight. They had everything you could have ever asked for in an end of the world situation. That sealed the deal for me. They weren’t going to want our shitty supplies. They were all set.

BOOK: Aftershock: A Collection of Survivors Tales
2.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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