Authors: Sean Schubert
Tags: #postapocalyptic, #apocalypse, #Plague, #Zombies, #living dead, #walking dead, #outbreak, #infection, #world war z
Jerry cautioned them both as the others started to gather around, “I can still hear them and it’s getting stronger. I don’t think we should have this conversation here.”
Emma asked, “What conversation?”
Dr. Caldwell looked over with his swollen, red eyes. “Just boy talk. You know, hunting, football, chicks.”
Jerry had to press, “I really don’t think we have time for this.”
Claire said, “It’s starting to make me feel ill.”
“Look!” Gerald said, pointing down the road from where they had come.
Coming down the road were hundreds of the things. Some were struggling to walk, despite past injuries or desiccation, and still others were getting the pace up faster and faster as they neared. They were emerging from the streets and neighborhoods they had passed only moments earlier. Many of those houses must not have been as empty as they appeared. A singular, collective moan emanated from the mob like a beacon leading them to their prey.
Already running, Jerry said, “I think we should haul ass!”
They all followed his lead. Neil was holding Danny’s hand and Meghan was holding Jules’. They pulled the children along to help them keep pace with the others. They took full advantage of the fact that their legs could produce much more speed than those of the zombies. Of course, the undead never grew tired which helped close that difference if one wasn’t careful.
Dr. Caldwell, gasping, said, “We can’t keep this up indefinitely.”
Meghan said, “Find a place to stop and let’em pass?”
Emma agreed. “Yeah, I don’t think I can keep running like this.”
Neil panted, “Doc, where to?”
“The greenhouse is up here on the right. We can probably find some pretty good places to hide and the smells from the plants will give us good cover.”
They ran into the main greenhouse building, breaking a small window in the process. They got in and moved to the far side of the building, making their way between the wilting and dying plants. The warmth in the structure had helped to keep the air damp, providing the slightest moisture to sustain the plants but even that moisture was rapidly fading. Only the hardiest of flora was still persisting.
There was another exit at the back of the building. It was around that door where they gathered to collect themselves and catch their breath.
Emma asked them all, “We still sure that leaving the Doc’s house was the best idea? We’re not too far off to be able to turn around and head back.”
Dr. Caldwell said, “Emma, if I can let go of my own house then it should be a snap for you. Let it go sweetheart. I’m never going back there again. It’s just an empty building now. There’s nothing back there for any of us.”
Starting to cry despite her best efforts, Emma forced out, “But is this all there is now? Run, hide, survive, and repeat? There has to be more to make me want to keep on living.”
Dr. Caldwell hugged her to his chest and pulled her in tight. He whispered into her ear so that no one else could hear. Her tears increased for a moment but they quickly changed to tears of release and acceptance. Dr. Caldwell kissed her cheek gently and then hugged her tightly again.
Over her shoulder, he said to Neil and the others, “I think we should keep moving.”
Meghan asked, “But if those things just passed us by, then how are we supposed to keep moving in that direction? Won’t that just put us on a collision course with them?”
“When they realize they’ve lost the scent,” Jerry said, “they’ll stop. They’re not very bright. They’ll completely forget about us because their minds won’t likely be able to keep hold of a single thought. If the Doc knows some way around the main road, we can probably bypass them and then get back on our way without them even remembering we were ever around.”
And that was exactly what they did. They waited for roughly an hour until everyone was sufficiently rested and then resumed their trek. They found side streets to skirt the main road until they felt comfortable enough to get back onto Eagle River Road, arriving at the Eagle River Nature Center by the late afternoon.
There were cars in the parking lot as if this was just a normal day. The front doors of the main building were off their hinges and collapsed inward. The windows too had been shattered from every frame facing out into the parking lot.
Dr. Caldwell said as they passed the ruined building, “I think there might be better options up the trail a bit. I seem to remember there being yurts and cabins further along. Maybe we’ll have better luck there.”
“And maybe we’ll just see more of the same or worse,” Emma complained forlornly.
Dr. Caldwell pleaded, “We have to believe.”
And Emma answered, “I’m trying. I really am. But when we just keep seeing the same thing over and over again, well, it’s gettin’ tough is all I have to say. Can you really fault me for being the slightest bit pessimistic?”
They smiled at one another, which definitely made her feel better.
As they passed the main building, the true destruction became much more apparent. A fire had claimed most of the back of the structure, leaving only partial walls to contain the destruction within.
Emma asked, “We still thinkin’ that we might have better luck up ahead?”
“Yeah. Just your average layperson would have never gotten past this building and the experienced hiker would leave the yurts still intact. Let’s keep moving.”
“Hate to admit my ignorance, but Doc, what’s a yurt?” asked Meghan.
Dr. Caldwell smiled. “Unless you were a Mongolian nomad or an avid hiker, you probably wouldn’t have much of a reason to know. You’ve probably seen them before and wondered what kind of a tent it was. A yurt is a little more than a tent but not as much as a cabin in terms of structure.”
“So like a party tent from an outdoor reception or something?”
“Not exactly. It usually sits on a wood or concrete platform, and has a wood or sometimes fiberglass frame that is covered over with canvas or some other more waterproof material.”
A few steps later and they were looking at a yurt, which was fairly aptly represented by the doctor to Meghan. She wasn’t the only one who didn’t know, but she was the only one curious enough to actually ask.
The interior was surprisingly clean, warm, and inviting. A couple of glass windows allowed in some light. They were all very excited to see the wood burning stove and a small pile of wood next to it. Danny was the first to notice the board nailed to the wood lattice frame. His intent reading drew others’ attention. Neil walked over, asking as he did, “What’d ya find there?”
“Names, dates, and...”
“What?”
He pointed and said, “I think it’s from others who came here before us. Look.”
Neil read, “September. Lauren Miller, Rose Custer, J. Williamson, Ty Herron. Heading south on the Crow Pass. Hoping to find others.”
“Late Sept. 2 weeks after event. Dr. Connor Wolverton, Maxine Parker, Tuck Pleasant, Chris Simpson, Doug Warring. Supplies gone. Fire at Fred’s. No more food. Everyone else is dead. We all hope Whittier is still safe.”
“There’s more. Lots more. And it looks like they’re all heading to Whittier.”
Jerry said with a slap to his forehead, “Of course! The tunnel.”
The realization not hitting him as fast as it did Jerry, Dr. Caldwell asked, “The tunnel?”
“Yeah, they can close the tunnel. If they got it closed before it was too late, then they could still be good there.”
Emma, always the skeptic, asked, “What are the chances really?”
“Think about it. There are really only very limited options for access to the town other than through that tunnel. If they were able to shut it and then wait, there’s a good chance that Whittier could be the one place left that is still holding on. I think it’s worth the look and we’ve already decided that we’re heading in that direction anyway.”
Emma said, “Which I haven’t necessarily agreed with from the beginning.”
Neil said, “Read some of these notes. They all say the same thing. There’s not enough food left in Eagle River. We’re running out of options and it sounds like Whittier is our best one right now.”
Quietly and directly to her, Neil pleaded, “Please. We need some goal, some purpose. A focus that will help to drive us, or we’re just running for the sake of running and that’s infinitely harder to do. Whittier can be that purpose.”
“Have you ever been there?” Emma asked. “If Whittier is at the end of our rainbow then things are worse than I originally thought.”
Neil smiled back at her and thus ended the debate. For the rest of the afternoon they rested and ate and prepared their packs once again for the coming challenge. The cold temperatures were held at bay by the yurt’s sturdy walls and the radiating warmth of the stove. They ate heartily and even managed to find the few laughs that were still hanging around. It was a good evening and a restful night.
In the morning, Neil went to the board with his knife and carved their names, his best guess at a date in October and the following: “Don’t forsake hope. There are others. Don’t stop believing. We can make it. Heading to Whittier. Good luck to you and us.”
The hike on the next day started out very pleasantly. Neil was starting to wonder if perhaps Dr. Caldwell’s admonitions were merely for show. Most of the trees had put on their austere winter coats, shedding their more delicate summer apparel. So thick was the carpet of leaves under their feet that on more than one occasion they were in danger of veering off the path and losing their way.
The path’s grade grew somewhat, and then some more and then some more. They were all but climbing and then they were on fairly level ground again. At this elevation, though, there was snow in patches here and there. Snow! New snow! Fresh, white, and looked-like-it-just-fell-that-morning snow! The air was cool but not completely unpleasant. They knew to expect the air to chill a bit but none of their lungs were prepared for the change. They all felt as if they’d just jumped into water that was a little colder than they expected. Speaking of water, the Eagle River was making its way next to them, its current healthy but not fast. As they walked and watched the water cutting its course, each in his or her own way imagined the chill that lurked below the water’s surface. As close as they were to the glacier that fed this river, the temperature in its flow couldn’t have been much above freezing.
With each step, they were huffing and puffing a small white cloud all around them. Down to the two kids, they all seemed to be handling the rigors thus far; no one needing extra encouragement or motivation to keep pace with the others, their moods surprisingly positive. They were able to follow handily placed trail markers to verify their route and their pace. Their progress could be charted, gains could be cataloged, and goals could be achieved. It was amazing how merely being able to claim that one had just walked a mile or half a mile or whatever could boost morale. Having a sense of accomplishment about what one was doing, especially if it included saving oneself, was a tonic for the soul, so to speak.
He couldn’t ask for things to be going any better. Neil was feeling like maybe they’d turned a corner. He matched his pace to Dr. Caldwell’s and pulled alongside the man. “Hey, Doc. What about the river?”
“What do you mean ‘what about the river’?”
“Do we ever have to cross it?”
“I’m sure if we do, there will be a foot bridge or something else for us to use. I can’t imagine the trail would involve fording a river.”
“Good. You’re probably right.”
They marched along at a fairly healthy pace until a little after midday. They came to a small trail marker with words like “Crow Pass Trail” and “Eagle River” and “recommended fording locations.”
All the good feelings and positive possibilities suddenly frosted over with the prospect of wading through possibly waist deep, frigid water. And it didn’t appear as if it was merely a prospect. The trail markers definitely led them to that spot.
Dr. Caldwell addressed all of them. “Here’s what we should do, and we’ve got to do it fast before we start second guessing ourselves. Take off your shoes and your socks. If you can, I’d recommend taking off your pants as well.”
Emma gasped, “What?!”
“Emma! We’ve got to stay dry. If we get wet and can’t dry ourselves properly, we could all die of hypothermia.”
Meghan asked, “Bare feet though, Doc. What about the riverbed? You know, rocks and such?”
“As fast as the water is moving, it seems like the rocks should be worn pretty flat. You can wear your shoes, but I’m telling you that I think this is a better option. Like I said, let’s do this fast.”
Neil said as he pulled off first his shoes and then his socks, “Good idea, Doc. Now get to it yourself.”
Dr. Caldwell had Jules secured to his chest with the help of bungee cords and carabiners and Neil had Danny similarly strapped. All of the adults grabbed hold of a rope they’d found at Dr. Caldwell’s house and then one by one they stepped into the cold, grey water. And cold it was. Dr. Caldwell was correct about the rocks. Much of the bed was soft glacial silt but the few stones were smooth.
Gerald was the last man into the river and right away he was having problems. Whereas everyone else was facing into the current, Gerald was facing down river. He seemed to be having difficulty finding his footing. His arms lurched skyward twice as he struggled and then he was down. He splashed and fought to get his feet under him so he could stand, but he couldn’t seem to find his balance. Immediately in front of Gerald were Jerry and then Claire and then Emma.