Lost in the Apocalypse (9 page)

“You mean military bases aren’t zombie-proof?”

“Forrest AFB wasn’t.”

He sighed and stood up. Neil put his hands in his jean pockets, then took them out. He didn’t seem to know what to do with them. He was restless, unsure. He was nervous. Had he told anyone this story before? She doubted it. For someone who had so confidently kissed a complete stranger just the day before, he was now obviously out of his element.

“So you guys just got together?”

“Cody is from Manhattan,” Neil said finally. “He had this idea that if we could just get to them, we could all be safe. There was no radio the entire way from Colorado, but he didn’t lose hope. Not once.”

“And when you got there?” She already knew the answer. Cody’s parents weren’t with them now, were they? They must have been dead or worse when they arrived. Howe had been horrible and Manhattan was an hour north of there. Emily didn’t think there would be anyone left alive.

“They were already dead,” Neil said flatly. “We walked into that house and right back out. His father had shot them both.”

“Were they…” She gulped. “Were they infected? Do you know?”

Neil shook his head. “We don’t know. Cody won’t talk about it. I don’t think he can, really. I don’t think he’s processed any of it. Shit, he’s just a kid. He’s just 19. You know he moved to Forrest AFB just to work at the CDC, right? He’s great with children and he wanted to make a difference in the world.”

Neil didn’t have to say anything else.

Emily knew.

Cody had the entire world at his fingertips, but now that world was dead and gone. Maybe together they could find something new. Maybe they could find new places in this strange new land they were facing together, but she wasn’t sure.

Somehow, it seemed like too much of a fairytale dream that could never come true.

“What now, Neil?” She asked. Her paper and pen sat on the bed, untouched. Writing felt good: better than she wanted to admit. She’d been itchy and uneasy until she finally managed to get all of her thoughts on paper. That was the writer’s curse, she knew. If she couldn’t write, she couldn’t function. Writing was like breathing. She had to do it. It was a compulsion, an urge. She had no choice.

“Now we make a new life,” he said.

“That’s what you wanted my cabin for, wasn’t it?” She asked, even though she knew.

“Your place was perfect,” he said. “Pretty ironic, isn’t it? The first day you get back there’s a hell of a storm? Imagine if you’d come back the next day. We’d never have met you.”

“Or the day before.”

“Or the day before,” he agreed. “You would have shot us on sight.”

She didn’t argue with him because it was true. Emily was timid in many ways, but when it came to protecting her property, she was a true Kansan. She wouldn’t let anyone get their way when it came to taking her land. Daddy had taught her better than that.

“So the Cody and Kari thing?” Emily asked.

“I don’t even know,” Neil shrugged. “They had a thing going on before I met them. Dunno how long. Don’t care, really.”

They sat in silence for a long time. It was nice to have someone to be with, even if they didn’t speak. There wasn’t much to say and Emily had learned through the silence of the last month that sometimes, you didn’t need to fill the void. Before the infection had ravaged the world, people were always trying to fill in the blanks. Radios and televisions and music videos had to be going all the time. Internet videos and social media and apps. Everything was filling the silence with noise, noise, noise.

But then it stopped

And now she didn’t feel the need to fill it in anymore.

“Butter and I are going out tomorrow to get supplies, scout around, see what we can find.”

“I’ll come,” she said quickly. Kari and Cody would probably want alone time. Robert would be figuring out ways to make the house stronger, more fortified.

“We leave at dawn,” Neil said. He turned and left, closing the bedroom door behind him. Emily stared at the door for a long time, then got up and went to the window.

Her room faced the back of the house and overlooked the trees of the forest. If there was one thing she loved about countryside Kansas, it was the sheer number of trees. Granted, not every property had them. Some places really were just plains and open fields and rolling hills.

Here, though, she could picture getting lost in the woods.

She could walk out into them and disappear forever, forgetting she had ever been stuck in a zombie world, after all.

Neil sneaked into Emily’s room and woke her up at dawn. He shoved a granola bar into her hand and a bottle of water and she ate a speedy breakfast in the dark. She pulled on her clothes. Maybe they would find something new to wear today, she thought as she smelled the unpleasant odor of stale sweat and dried blood.

A girl could dream.

She joined Neil and Butter in the car and they took off down the road, careful to keep track of where the house was.

“Most of these roads are divided at the one-mile point,” she told the men. “Some of them at the half mile point.”

“What do you mean?” Neil asked, glancing out the window, staring at the little gravel roads.

“Not every area has a 9-1-1 address,” she explained. “So when you call and have an emergency, you can’t just say you live on Bucket Road, or whatever. Not every road has a name. Most of these houses are still on rural routes.”

“Even the places that have addresses, people still go by route numbers pretty frequently,” Butter chimed in, and Emily wondered if he had ever been a country boy. Maybe in his pre-military days, she speculated.

“So the roads are divided so people can find things as easily as possible,” she continued. “These longer breaks in the road are one mile each between intersections. Some of the shorter ones are half mile.”

“Makes sense,” Neil commented. “And really, it’s kind of genius.”

“Makes it easy to give directions,” Emily added. “You can just tell someone to go five miles, then turn south, or whatever.”

They continued down the road in silence. They were driving slowly so they could keep their eyes out for anything unusual. They needed to know how many Infected they could expect in this area, how many prying eyes there were, whether there were bands of survivors or not.

“Looks pretty uninhabited to me,” Butter commented. He slowed as the road rounded a bend, then stopped. “Want to check it out?” He asked, peering at a small house just off the road. The yard was full of trees and they couldn’t get a clear view, but it looked empty enough.

“Yeah,” Neil said. “Back up around the corner.” Butter reversed the car and went back up the road a bit, then parked. They couldn’t completely hide the car, but they also didn’t need to announce their arrival if the house was packed full of survivors.

They got out with their weapons. Emily had brought her .38 special, while Neil and Butter each carried a 9mm Glock. Butter grabbed a bat, too. The men were nothing if not resourceful. They circled around to the back of the house and approached through the trees. They watched for a minute, but there was no movement.

“Time to go check it out,” Emily said. She started to stand, but Neil yanked her back down to where he and Butter were squatting.

“Wait,” he said. He picked up a rock and chucked it at the house. It bounced off the first-floor window, but nothing happened.

“There’s no one there,” Emily protested. This was a waste of time.

“One more,” Neil said. He picked up another rock and threw it. This time the window shattered and a face appeared in its place. “Gotcha,” he said.

Neil climbed out from the trees and aimed for the Infected’s head. It opened its mouth, but didn’t make a noise before Neil had put it down. The sound of the gunfire would undoubtedly bring more if there were any others in the area.

The Infected collapsed where it was, half in and half out of the house.

“Nice shot, boss,” Butter said. Neil was silent as they walked up to the house and peeked inside. It was dark. Emily didn’t see any others right away, but she was wary as they tried the back door.

“Locked,” Neil said.

“Check under the mat,” Emily pointed at a tattered welcome mat that read
Home Sweet Home
.

“Nothing,” he said, holding it by one corner.

“Over here,” Butter handed him a key. “It was under the flower pot.”

“Predictable,” Neil commented, sliding the key into the lock. “Good thing we aren’t robbers.”

He pulled the back door open and the scent of sweat and rotting food wafted out.

“Ladies first,” he said to Butter.

“Fuck you,” Butter said as he stepped into the door, gun raised. Sunlight streamed into the kitchen from the broken window and open door, but they were too busy looking for Infected to notice. Emily held her flashlight up as they walked around the empty room. The only thing around was the rotting Z Neil had put down.

“Start looking around,” Butter told Emily. “We’re going to check the rest of the house.”

The farmhouse wasn’t big. There were two stories, but judging from the exterior, the upper floor was probably a single bedroom and bathroom. The old woman Neil had shot wasn’t moving or twitching, but Emily kept an eye on her, anyway. Z’s were quick and she didn’t want to be caught unprepared.

Not today.

She quickly rummaged around in the cupboards. There were several reusable shopping bags beneath the sink and she filled them with crackers, pasta, nuts, and coffee. Emily didn’t want to open the fridge, but she did, and found two water bottles among the rotting food.

The freezer was empty save for a bottle of Jack, and she tossed that in the bag, as well. Lucky find, she thought. The gang would enjoy that later.

When the guys came back downstairs, they handed her a few bottles of pills they had found in the upstairs bathroom. Butter checked for a basement, but didn’t see one. He grabbed a set of keys from the counter and headed outside.

“Gonna take a look in the garage,” he called out, and headed out to see whether or not the dead lady had a car they could use.

Neil helped Emily haul their loot to the car, then returned to the house to get blankets and pillows. Emily went upstairs to check for clothes. Almost everything was 10 years out of date and wouldn’t fit her or Kari. While Emily would have once loved to be as thin as she was now, she was finding it difficult to keep her once-tight clothing on. Everything was baggy now. She grabbed a flannel nightgown and brought it out to the car. It might be way too big, but would keep her warm during the coming winter nights.

As she reached the car, she heard the sound of another engine and Butter appeared in a little beat-up truck.

“A pickup!” He yelled out the window, hooting and hollering. Emily wanted to tell him to keep it down, that they didn’t need to be attracting any Z’s, but she just grinned. Now they had a place to stay and not one, but two running vehicles.

“See you at home, boys,” Butter yelled and drove on down the road. Emily and Neil closed the back door and stared at the dead woman for a minute.

“We should do something,” Emily said.

“Like what? Can’t exactly have a funeral service here.”

“I know, but, I mean…” She hesitated. “We can’t just leave her here.”

Neil rolled his eyes, then placed his hands on her shoulders. Emily looked up at him. He was so much taller than her.

“Em, I know this sucks, but we aren’t moving that body.”

“But Robert moved the ones at the other house,” She started to protest.

“Robert was clearing out a house, love,” Neil said. “We aren’t. We don’t have time to properly bury every Infected we find and even if we did, I wouldn’t try it now.  It’s midmorning, it’s starting to get hot, and I don’t want her blood splashing around on me. I don’t want to get infected and I know you don’t either.”

He was right, but she didn’t exactly want to admit that. And why was this one different? Emily had left Melanie and ran right on home without looking back.

Was this some sort of desire for redemption?

She turned and went back to the car. She sat down in the passenger seat and closed the door. It felt like she was alone in the car forever before Neil finally came and joined her. He sat down, but didn’t start the car right away. Instead, he reached over and grabbed her hand. He held it for awhile.

“I know this is hard,” he said. Somehow, it was enough. They sat like that for awhile, then finally went back to their house.

She couldn’t bring herself to think of it as “home” just yet, but she knew there would be a time when she undoubtedly thought of the little house that way.

Home.

What did that even mean anymore?

Emily and Neil arrived back at the house in time to see Robert putting down two Infected. The Z’s were young, probably in their mid-twenties. Emily didn’t recognize them. They were slow and wobbly as they hesitantly made their way toward Robert. He himself did
not
hesitate.

He killed them quickly.

“What the hell?” Neil jumped out of the car and walked toward Robert, who was standing at the side of the house.

“No idea, boss,” Robert said. “The fuckers just wandered out of the trees.” He motioned toward the densely wooded area that lined the sides and back of the house.

“What’s back there?” Emily asked. “Where would they have come from?”

Neil and Robert exchanged looks and Emily was instantly on alert.

“What? What did I say?” She asked.

“You asked what was back there,” Neil said, checking his gun. “And I honestly don’t know. Get Butter. Tell him we’re checking out the woods.”

She ran into the house to find Butter and tell him.

“Fuck,” he said. “I wondered what all the shouting was about.” He finished a can of beer and left it on the counter. Emily wasn’t sure where he’d found it, but she didn’t ask. They all had their secrets.

“Cody and I can take care of these two,” Kari appeared and pointed at the dead Infected lying in the grass. “You guys go on ahead.” She pressed a .380 into Emily’s hands and Emily rolled her eyes.

“A .380? What am I going to kill with this? A mouse? Come on.” She showed Kari her old standby, her .38 special, and headed out to see what the boys had found.

Emily stepped into the woods and immediately felt like she was someplace new. The forest was darker than it was by the house and quieter. She could still hear Kari and Cody talking as they cleaned up the corpses, but the woods held a certain air of silence.

Of solitude.

She could see Neil up ahead of her and followed close behind, careful to make enough noise that he could hear her, but not enough to attract the attention of any Z’s that might be lurking nearby. She reached him and he held out his arm to stop her from going any further.

Another infected was up ahead in a clearing, wandering aimlessly.

“Seriously, where are they coming from?” Neil muttered. Robert headed out and wacked it with a baseball bat, quietly and quickly putting it out of its misery.

“It’s too far from town, isn’t it?” Emily asked, but her heart fell. Would they ever be safe? The Infected were slow and growled a lot, but all it took was one bite, one scratch, one cut. All it took was too much contact and you’d be done for.

She knew that much from losing her sister.

Robert motioned for everyone to follow him and they did. They went down a little hill and stepped over a fallen tree trunk. There were piles of leaves: a sign that winter wouldn’t be long in coming. Finally, they reached a road.

“There,” Robert pointed down the road. “Right there.”

Neil, Butter, and Emily looked where he was wagging his finger. There was a building up ahead, but she couldn’t really tell what it was.

“Is that a church?” She asked, squinting.

“It’s a country bar,” Butter said, suddenly sounding pretty pleased with himself.

Sure enough, when they started walking toward it, they saw the shabby faded
Branding Iron Restaurant and Tavern
sign.

“Looks like everyone was having fun, but the party ended early,” Butter pointed to a row of cars parked outside the restaurant. They all looked to be in fine condition, but the building itself was crawling with Infected.

“Why are they just now getting out?” Emily wondered aloud, but then she saw the window on the side of the building. While the front door was closed and looked sturdy enough, a branch had fallen onto the side of the building, shattering two of the windows.

“You can thank our tornado for that,” Neil said, and headed toward the building with his gun held high.

“This is gonna be fun,” Robert grinned. Emily wondered about his use of the word “fun,” but followed.

It looked like someone had turned in the bar and no one had gotten out alive before the tornado knocked a hole in the window. Now there was an Infected hanging half out of the window and another one standing by, staring at it.

The Z turned as the group approached and stared at them. Neil hesitated for just a moment, then shot it. He missed and shot again, this time hitting it between the eyes.

The Infected that was in the window dropped to the ground and another one took its place, slowly drawing its body over the broken glass, not crying from pain as the shards tore into its clothing and flesh.

The Z on the ground stood up, righting itself, and turned to the group. Again, Neil shot it.

“Save some for the rest of us, will ya?” Robert called out, but he didn’t make a move to help. Neil stood in position, waiting as Infected after Infected crawled out of the tavern and he, in turn, shot them. Soon there was a pile of Infected, so the ones that came out of the window had to crawl over the bodies before plopping to the ground. Soon Neil was shooting them before they even stood, just creating a long pile of bodies.

“About done?” Robert asked when Neil shot the last one.

“About.” He answered, shoving his gun in the waistband of his jeans. He had stopped twice to reload and Emily bet he was about out of bullets, but it didn’t seem to stop him. He walked over to the door of the tavern and kicked it three times before stopping.

“Anyone have an axe?” He muttered, turning back to the group.

“Better idea,” Butter said. He walked forward, looked at each of them pointedly, and turned the doorknob. The door swung open and light poured into the bar. He took a step back and waited until the first Infected came wandering out toward the light. “Dumbass,” he muttered and punched the first Infected in the head. Knocked off balance, it wobbled and tumbled to its knees. He gripped the bat in his hands tightly, then swung and knocked creature down. Another few hits and he knew it wasn’t getting up.

“Who wants to go first?” Neil asked, staring at the doorway. Undoubtedly there were more. There were always more. Emily gripped the .38 special, running her fingers over the metal of the revolver. She should name it, she thought suddenly. Wasn’t it good luck to name your gun? Maybe that’s why she didn’t have any.

“I’ll go,” she offered, but she knew Neil would brush her aside. He was no feminist. She barely knew him, but she realized he would be a firm believer in the idea that men should protect women at all costs. Emily took a step forward, but Robert held up a hand and motioned for her to stay.

“Age before beauty, sweetheart,” he said, and stepped inside. He didn’t bring a flashlight, just his gun, but Emily knew he wouldn’t need it. There would be enough light from the broken window and the open door for him to see. She heard two shots and then silence. A pause.

Neil stepped up and went inside, followed by Butter. Emily came last. She stepped inside and tried not to retch at the smell of body odor and death. The tavern itself was a wreck.

What had once been a fantastic place to get a beer or just have fun was now filled with rotting body parts and blood. The floor was sticky and Emily cringed as she lifted her boots and heard the telltale squish of blood beneath them. Tables and chairs were knocked over and broken. Broken glasses and bottles covered the floor.

Who had been the first bitten? Had someone come in for a drink with friends after getting their vaccine? Had they been scratched by an Infected, but thought it was no big deal? Had they started to feel feverish before the change happened?

Had it hurt?

“Emily!” Voices brought her back to the present and she turned. The guys were gathered around the bar. Robert was bleeding.

“What happened?” She asked, running over. “Did one bite you?”

“Fucking glass,” he muttered, motioning to the countertop. He had obviously been reaching for a bottle of liquor when a broken glass cut his wrist. Her mouth formed a small “o” as she stared at him. Was he infected now, too? The silent question hung in the air, but Neil ripped his shirt off and covered Robert’s arm with it.

“That should stop the bleeding,” he said, running a hand through his hair. Obviously, he didn’t know what to do now. If there was blood on the glass, there was no telling when Robert might turn. Then again, maybe he was safe. Maybe he was okay.

“If there wasn’t blood on the glass,” Emily began, but Robert silenced her with a glare.

“Don’t be stupid, girl,” he said. Then he shook his head, his eyes lowered. “Butter, Em, give me a minute alone with Neil, all right?”

Emily nodded and turned to go. She wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what more she could do. Before she left, Robert pressed a bottle in her hands.

“Take this,” he said. “Hang onto it for me.” She took the whiskey and nodded, then quietly walked out of the tavern. Butter patted Robert’s shoulder, but was silent. He followed Emily out.

“What does he want to talk to Neil about?” Emily asked. Butter gave her a pointed look. “What?” She stared at him, then she realized what he was saying without words. She screeched. “No! We don’t know if he’s actually infected.” She turned to run back into the tavern, but Butter held her wrist. She thought about hitting him with the bottle, but didn’t. It was a gift. Only, she thought Robert was asking her to hold it while Neil patched him up.

She didn’t know what he really meant.

She heard low voices murmuring, talking. What was there to discuss? Could Neil talk some sense into Robert?

Was he really going to ask his friend to end it all?

She tried to pull Butter toward the door, but he held her fast, and told her to stop.

“It’s his choice, love,” he whispered. “He doesn’t want to see himself turn into one of the monsters.”