––––––––
The reconnaissance group found us while on one of their final scouting missions; they were on their way back to what they called Alpha Base. Their diesel fuel supply was running critically low, and they were desperate to fill their large trucks with supplies before running out. The horde rushing the old folk’s home was a sure sign of life inside. Chanel, the woman who had ultimately located us was young and had a kind face. Her dark brown hair was cropped short on one side and fell to her chin on the other. There were five in her group in all, but three were lost when the dead overtook them just outside the nursing home. As I suspected, Graeme was gone. It was Jessa who fired the shot that ended his torture. She hadn’t spoken since and Gus explained that she was in shock. Sam survived, but barely. A wall collapsed near him, re-shattering his injured wrist. Jenny hadn’t been as fortunate. She was killed in one of the blasts. We searched for Autumn until a new wave of the dead approached. We never did find her, alive or dead, leaving morale low.
The vehicle we were in was a piecemeal of different automobiles. The cab from a pickup, the body of a large windowless van. A hatch was welded into the ceiling with a metal platform bolted to the floor below and bench seats lined the inside walls. Holes no larger than two inches in diameter were drilled at even spaces about two feet below ceiling height. Chanel sat in the back with us while her companion took the front driver’s seat. He was an older man who bore scars on his left arm and face, and I suspected he bore a lot of mental baggage. He didn’t say much, but when he did his voice was commanding if not terrifying. Hoot sat beside Jessa, trying to comfort her. Sam lay on the rear-most bench, thankfully not conscious. His hand was bloody and unnaturally twisted. It was beginning to turn purple from swelling. Even in his deep sleep, an occasional wince or moan escaped him.
“Chanel, I need you up top! There’s one of the fast ones at 11o’clock,” the man said gruffly.
“On top of it,” she called back.
She stepped up onto the metal platform and struggled to push the hatch open. She was clearly too short to be effective with the task. Gus stood and jumped into action, helping her.
“Let me get it,” he said in a cool and even tone.
“Chanel! I’ve got a bad feeling!” called the driver.
“Ernie, I can’t reach! I’m sending the new guy up top!”
“Zoe, hand me your pistol!” Gus shouted down to me.
The metal hatch made a loud thud on the roof of the van as it slammed backward. Gus disappeared from the waist up and I handed him my gun. Before long the sound of shooting was followed by Ernie emitting a loud “whoop!”
Four more pops came from the gun and the van swerved to the left.
“Bring him back down, Chanel. We’re clear enough.”
“On it.”
“I’ll get him,” I said as I stood.
Sam began moaning in the background. Chanel looked at me and nodded.
“I’ll tend to your friend. What’s his name?”
“Sam,” I said quickly. “His wrist was already broken, but not like this.”
“We have a first aid kit. I’ll give him a shot of morphine. Once we get home we’ll have Doc look at him.”
I tugged at Gus’ jeans to signal him down. The van-slash-truck jarred to the left and I stumbled, catching myself against Gus as he emerged from the hatch.
“Careful,” he said as we struggled to upright ourselves.
Sam yelped in pain.
“Ernie, what the hell is going on?” Chanel called up to the cab.
“Fucking animal or something ran across the road. I got it.”
The jolting calmed as he straightened the vehicle.
“Or something?” asked Hoot.
“Not sure what it was. It’s almost dusk,” answered the driver. “I don’t wanna turn around to find out.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” said Hoot. His forehead was wrinkled and he looked full of deep thought.
“Sam? My name’s Chanel. I’m gonna stick you with some morphine, love, okay?”
His teeth were clenched and his brow was soaked in sweat. The best he was able to do was groan between his teeth.
“Chanel, do you need help with that?” asked Gus.
“I’ve almost got it.” She struggled to stick the syringe needle into a small vial. The routine motion of the vehicle made it difficult and she unfortunately stuck herself in the hand.
Gus crouched down beside her and took the vial.
“I’m used to doing this on the move. I’ll take over if it’s okay?”
“Yeah sure,” she answered. “Are you a doctor?”
“Former ARMY nurse. Humvee, helicopter, boat...you name it, I’ve delivered care in pretty rough terrain.”
I sat on the remaining bench seat and watched Gus work. Chanel stayed at his side to help hold Sam’s arm still. She seemed eager to learn and eager to help others. Something about her was calming. It was a matter of only seconds after Gus injected the medication into Sam’s vein that he calmed. Chanel covered him with a yellow blanket as he fell asleep. Gus rummaged through the first aid kit while Chanel excused herself to sit up front with Ernie.
As she walked past me, I stood and caught her attention.
“Thanks for helping Sam.”
“It’s no problem. Really.”
She smiled at me. Her eyes were a warm chocolate brown. We had encountered so many evil people on our journey so far that it was difficult to trust anyone new. Chanel felt different.
“Nell, I’m pulling off at the next clearing,” said Ernie.
“I hate it when he calls me that,” she grumbled before flashing a brief smile at me. “Okay. Want me to drive the rest of the way?”
“You know it,” he said with a sigh.
“I better head up front. We’ll talk more later,” she said.
I sat back down on the bench seat and drew my knees to my chest and buried my face in my arms. My forearm ached and I felt dizzy. My heart ached for both of my daughters, as well as baby Emmett. For a moment I considered using the morphine in the first aid kit for myself, a dose big enough to end my own life. Shortly after, Gus sat down next to me. I kept my face down. He exhaled loudly and wrapped his arms around me hard.
“No, Zoe. We’ve both lost so much. I can’t lose you too.”
He had heard me, even though his spirit was absent within my own mind; yet another void in my life.
I cried softly and leaned against him, still not looking up.
“It hurts so bad,” I moaned. “I can’t live without her, Gus. I can’t.”
“We have to, love. Hope would want us to live. Anything less would be dishonoring her beautiful memory.”
I finally lifted my head. Gus used his thumbs to wipe the tears that were streaming down my face.
“How am I supposed to go on, though?” I asked quietly.
“Our love for each other, darlin’. Right now it’s all I have to give you. It has to be enough. Let it be enough. Please, let it be enough?”
I clung to him, the pain from my gunshot wound paling in comparison to the pain within my heart. Eventually the vehicle slowed and came to a stop.
“We’re taking a quick rest break,” Gus said as he kissed the top of my head. “Do you need to get out?”
I shook my head side to side. “No.”
“Lay down and sleep? Please?”
“’Kay. Just for a little while.”
He stood and I allowed myself to stretch out horizontally. Gus tucked his jacket under my head and I soon fell into a fitful sleep. I woke briefly when Sam called out in pain, and again when Ernie fell into a coughing fit. Each time, Gus was sitting on the floor of the vehicle right beside me. Dreams came in bursts, each containing their own horrors: the dead devouring Hope’s body, Molly in a crib crying for me, finding Gus dead in bed, being trapped in a car submerged in a river. Gus woke me from the worst of them; I had been dreaming that I died and came back as one of the living dead. In the nightmare, I had been about to devour Gus. It was a relief when my husband woke me.
“Chanel says we’re almost there,” he said to me. “They have a proper doctor who will look you and Sam over. I’ll ask them for something to help you sleep.”
“Where are we going?”
“They have a building they’ve secured up by the border. Some hole-in-the wall place that was under construction. Ernie says it’s fortified and they’re almost done finishing the exterior. They have about thirty people living there. He says it’s secure, they have food, and medicine. I feel good about these people, Zo. I really do”
I nodded but didn’t say anything.
The vehicle slowed and the brakes squealed as we went over a bump. Sam moaned but didn’t wake up. He looked so pale and waxy. The bandage around his wrist was soaked in red.
“We’re here,” Chanel called back.
Ernie sat on the couch across from us. He stood, guarding his back like it ached.
“It’ll just take the fence crew a minute to let us in,” he said.
“How can we help?” asked Hoot.
“Just keep an eye out for the dead. We’ll drive in and the crew will shut the gate behind us. We’ll get your friend here to see Doc right away. Maybe help get him out of the van?”
“Sure. Anything.”
After only a few moments the van proceeded forward at barely a crawl. Metal clanged as we drove over something. We all leaned as Chanel made a sharp right turn. We came to a stop and the engine died. Looking through one of the holes in the van wall, it looked like an underground parking garage.
“We’re here,” said Ernie with a stern look on his face. “I’ll introduce you formally later, first I need to tell the rest of our group about our fallen comrades.”
The barn doors on the back of the van opened and a short middle aged woman looked in. She wore a look of confusion.
“Ernie, you brought us survivors?”
“Yes, ma’am. One needs Doc real bad. Can you call for him?”
“Of course. Where’s Barry, Caroline, and Ashok?”
Ernie shook his head side to side.
“Oh crap. Crap crap crap,” she repeated. “That’s gonna devastate the group.”
Chanel made her way to the back of the rig and spoke softly. “Our new friends also lost a lot of their people.”
“Well double crap,” said the woman. “I’m real sorry to hear that.”
She was a funny looking lady with thick coke-bottle glasses and wiry hair that fell just short of her shoulders. The ends were black, the rest silver. She seemed sincere and very comfortable in her own skin. She wore a black sweater that was big enough for her to swim in and pulled a walkie-talkie out from somewhere within its depths.
“Doc, you there?”
The hand held device crackled as she let go of the button and waited for a response.
“Doc, come in,” she said.
Still no reply, she sighed heavily.
“Damn fruitcake is probably off sitting on the crapper again. He goes in there just to read. He doesn’t think anyone is on to him.”
She looked at her walkie and scowled at it.
“Doc, answer your call. We have someone down in the parking garage who’s injured. Get your ass down here STAT.”
The device cracked again, but was cut off by a deep voice.
“For Christ sake Olga, I’m coming.”
She looked at us and smiled awkwardly.
“I’m Olga. Let’s get you all inside.”
Hoot spoke first. “I’ll stay here to help with Sam. You guys go ahead and I’ll meet up with you later.”
The thought of splitting up didn’t sit well with me. From his posture beside me, I could tell that Gus felt the same.
“We’d rather stick behind until we’re sure Sam’s okay,” said Gus.
“Oh geez,” interjected Olga. “We’re not evil and your friend will be fine. Doc will be down and Ernie can help. Chanel, you can come up with us and break the news to the rest of our group. Damn shame we lost those three,” she grumbled. “They were all real good people.”
Olga said what she felt and certainly didn’t sugar coat anything.
“Let’s go,” I said to Gus. “No offense, Olga, but we’d feel better if Hoot stays with our friend.”
“Suit yourself,” she said with a bit of a sigh as she turned and began to walk away. “Follow me.”
Gus took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. We followed the quirky woman across a short expanse to a concrete stairwell. Several vehicles remained parked along one side of what was clearly a sub-level parking garage. Gaps in the concrete walls were reinforced with wire fencing. Wild plants sent roots in through cracks, attempting to lay claim to the structure. We ascended a short set of stairs and ran into a man who looked as quirky as Olga as we got to the first landing.
“Oh, hi,” he said with an oddly chipper voice. “You must be our new friends. I’m Doc.”
Gus held his hand out politely. “Gus. This is my wife, Zoe.”
The man pumped Gus’ hand enthusiastically.
“Nice to meet you both. Olga and Chanel will take good care of you but I must be off to help your friend. What’s his name?” he asked as he turned to Olga.
“Sam. He looks pretty banged up.”
Gus cleared his throat. “Sam has serious wrist injuries; it’s been crushed twice.
“Right-o then. Off with ya.”
As Olga turned to continue up the stairs, the man slapped her playfully on the butt before continuing on his way. She grumbled something unintelligible. I glanced at Gus, who winked at me. The gesture was out of place, not matching the graveness etched on his face. I knew his thoughts and heart were buried beside the road a long way behind us. I knew because mine were too.
“Olga, can you get these two to one of the empty units? I’ll gather the others in the meeting hall to tell them about the others. Let them get settled and we’ll make introductions over dinner.”
“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Want me to set them up on the north or west side?”
“I think Dill wants to fill the north side first. There’s four empty units.”
“Alrighty then. Follow me,” she said with a wave of her hand.
The door at the top of the stairwell was like any generic metal door of any generic building’s stairwell. Metal painted dark brown with the number “2” on a small plaque.
“What is this building?” asked Gus.
“It was going to be shops below and apartments up top. It was still under construction so the units above us aren’t finished. They work, though. We’re slowly finishing off the living spaces and we’ve converted most of the office spaces into open areas for social stuff. Meetings. Game night. A movie once a week. The foundation was already in and we just had to close off the open areas in the garage with wire fencing and clear the office spaces of the dead. Luckily it was a weekend when this shit happened so not many people had been here. Just the janitorial night crew of three. One got caught outside when the shit hit the fan. Got back inside before it died and came back”
We continued up the stairs with Olga in the lead while Chanel branched off.
“Bridgid was the only one who survived. She managed to hide in the air duct for a few days. When we found her she was near death from dehydration. It took her weeks to recover, mostly emotionally,” explained Chanel. “You’ll like her. She’s really funny if you can get her to loosen up.”
“This is the first floor, of four. The top two we’re using for storage. Food, necessities. The roof has a garden for smaller things. Tomatoes, herbs, stuff that’s easy. We’ve expanded behind the building. There’s cargo containers around the perimeter with a large garden and a small orchard. Well, the trees are only two years old. But in time we hope to have peaches, pears, and apples,” said the older woman.
Soon we got to the residential hallway. The wall to our right was bare and on the left were doors spaced about every twenty feet. Exposed studs peeked out every now and then and the walls were a patchwork of oriented strand board and sheet rock. Each door was labeled with a number. 101-102-103-104. Once we got to 112, Olga stopped. “This is the first vacant one. There’s not much inside,” she said as she turned the knob and opened the door. “But we’ll add more as time goes by, assuming you decide to stay.”
“We’d like to see our friends,” said Gus.
“They’ll have taken Sam to the Real Estate office downstairs. It’s where Doc set up shop,” said the quirky woman. “
“Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable. We have a water tank rigged on the ceiling, so there’s running water for showers It’s just not heated beyond what the sun provides. I’ll have someone set some fresh clothes in the hallway for you but you’ll find soap and towels inside. There’s bottled water in the kitchen and we’ll feed you in a bit. Don’t drink the water from the shower.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Feel free to move about the building. Not many rules here, just common sense. We do ask that you mind rationing, don’t fight, and always check weapons out if you need to use them.”
“Got it,” said Gus.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.”
“Thanks.”
Olga turned and walked back down the hall. We watched until she turned the corner. Gus and I walked through the door into a dimly lit room. It was small but quaint, if not bare of furniture. Our footfalls echoed on the concrete floor. The exterior walls had exposed studs on our side. To our left was a small corner kitchen. It was the only corner that had sheet rock lining the inside. The walls that joined with the other units were much like the hallway walls; a patchwork of materials.
“We could make it homey,” said Gus quietly. “Finish the walls. Paint. Maybe add a couch?”
“You’re thinking of staying?” I asked.
My voice sounded empty of emotion.
“Maybe. I’m so tired of running, Zo.”
“She’s gone,” I barely whispered.
Standing close to my side, Gus wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him.
“She’ll always be with us.”
I buried my face into his chest and leaned on him.
“I feel like the biggest part of me has died with her.” My voice was muffled against his chest.
“I have no words, darlin’. I wish I did. I think she took a huge part of both of us with her.”
“I need to know what happened,” I sighed heavily.
“We’ll talk to their doctor. See if he has any insight. I’d like him to look at your arm, too.”
I didn’t answer, but rather closed my eyes and let him hold me. After a long moment he loosened his arms and looked down at me.
“Let’s get cleaned up, then go check on Sam.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He used the pads of his thumbs to caress my face. His eyes held the deep sadness that I felt deep within my soul. I could also see worry and uncertainty reflecting back to me. He carefully helped me undress since my arm was still bandaged and hard to move.
“You’ve lost too much weight,” he said in a sad tone.
“I’ll be fine.”
“We really should think about staying. Even if it’s just for a little while. Let your arm heal. Regular meals. Time to catch our breath.”
“Maybe.”
By that point it was hard to trust anyone but my husband and Hoot. I had known them the longest of anyone left alive on earth.
“Let’s go find the shower.”
He took my uninjured elbow and gently led me to another corner of the large room. A rudimentary bathroom took up a corner of the only bedroom.
“It would have made a cute apartment, huh?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.
“I’m sure we can fix it up a bit.”
“If we stay,” I added.
“If we stay.”
The shower in the bathroom hadn’t yet been installed when the dead rose, but there was a drain pipe in the floor that had been rigged to a plastic kids wading pool. Plastic sheeting hung loosely from exposed studs, the ends falling into the kiddie pool. A hose dangled from the ceiling, the end capped with a shut-off valve. Nearby sat an old kitchen chair that was topped with several folded bath towels, hand towels, and washcloths. A bar of soap and bottle of shampoo were tucked under the chair.
We showered together, using the least amount of water we could.