Containment (43 page)

The next morning arose slowly, the sun as reluctant to shed its warm blankets as they all were. Sensing the sun’s hesitation, the clouds rolled back in, lowering the temperatures and the visibility significantly. The air was damp and uninviting.

A small but steady fire had been kept for whomever was standing watch. At this early hour, when night’s chill still held sway over any warmth to be had in the still rising day, Neil was thankful for the enthusiastic flame. He was tempted to wake Meghan but Jules was sleeping snuggled up against her, and he just didn’t have the heart to interrupt that.

So, once again, Neil found himself alone during the loneliest hours of the day. It was okay though; much better than it had been recently. Finding themselves out of the city, encounters with the undead diminishing, reconciliation with Meghan, or perhaps just being able to see another day’s dawning could all have affected his mood. Regardless of what it was or wasn’t, his load felt a little less cumbersome.

He pulled his backpack over to himself to get a bottle of water. He reached in and fished around the bag’s chaotic interior and felt the concern rise back into his awareness. He was finally able to lay his hands onto a single sixteen ounce bottle. That was not welcome news. He wondered if somehow his bag had been shorted on bottled water to accommodate some other necessity, like ammunition or batteries. He hoped that was the case and that everyone else had more to share.

Jerry was the next to rise. As soon as he had sat himself on the ground next to the fire, Neil asked, “Sorry to start hitting you with questions as soon as you get situated, but how you doin’ on water?”

Jerry leaned back, slapping his head with an acknowledging whack. “That’s why it feels so much lighter. I might have one or two. You?”

“This is my last.”

“Well, it’s not like we’re in the desert or anything. We can collect more, right?”

“Yeah, but we gotta boil it. Which means that we gotta get it and we gotta have a fire.”

“You got a different idea?” asked Jerry as he carefully opened one of his water bottles. He sipped conservatively and then dutifully replaced the cap.

Neil didn’t have any ideas worth mentioning, only concerns about what to do. The only idea that seemed to be forming was a possibility that he was having a hard time considering. He said finally, “The way I see it, we’ve got three possibilities. We go north toward the Mat-Su Valley and the Interior, we stay here, or we go back to Anchorage where we know we can find supplies.”

“And...them.”

“Yeah. And them.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about supplies or help when you said the Mat-Su?”

It was just instinct but Neil was fairly certain about his assumptions of what lay to the north. “They got across the Knik. That much is clear. If they got across, that means that the nearest force able to stand up to them is in Fairbanks at Fort Wainwright. There’s no way that those troops could have been mobilized and transported in time to check the hordes’ advance anywhere nearby. I think they might have made a stand in the tight corridors of Denali Park. That means several days’ hike before we might, and I can’t stress that word enough,
might
find friendlies. And unless they figured out a different method of dealing with them, I’m afraid that we might be talking about the crossing at Nenana.”

Jerry was nodding through all of this. “I can’t say that I disagree with any of that. So why not just keep heading north and scrounge for supplies in Palmer or Wasilla?”

“The military may not have been able to stop them but I’m sure that their efforts at least slowed the spread somewhat. That would have bought Mat-Su residents time to get out and in getting out I’m guessing that they picked clean most of the stores already. There’s a good chance that most of what we need is already gone.”

“So, we get staying here or going back as our only options?”

Warming his hands near the small fire as much for effect as anything else, Neil asked, the doubt creeping into his words as they crawled out into the cool air, “I don’t know about you, but that fire only did so much last night to keep me warm. How long you think we’ll be able to stay out when it starts to get really cold and snow hits? Seems like freezin’ to death isn’t any better of an option than facing the same at the hands of...”

Neil caught Jerry’s expression and corrected himself, “Well maybe in degree it’s better but not in outcome. Either way, we end up dead. Besides, we can probably get water, but what about food? I’m not a hunter. You?”

“No, but what you’re suggesting is nuts. No one is going to buy into it.”

“I’m glad you put it that way, because that is exactly what it is: a suggestion. Claire was right last night. It doesn’t always have to be my call.”

“Neil, we trust you. It’s that simple. You may say otherwise, but we can all tell that you’re not just looking out for your own ass. You’ve kept us all safe and, probably more importantly, you’ve kept us going. We’d probably have waited in that house in South Anchorage or there on Elmendorf until we got boxed in and overrun with nowhere and no time to go. You saw the writing on the wall and made sure we had better options.”

Neil shook his head and suggested, “I think that may just have been luck. I’m no brilliant strategist.”

Without the slightest hesitation, Jerry disagreed. “No, that’s not how I see it at all. Both moves were calculated, and they were the right decisions. So it sounds like you’re thinking we should head back to Anchorage then?”

Claire was just emerging from under the tarp and heard the last bit of the last sentence. Through a yawn she asked, “I must still be waking up because it sounded like someone thought it a good idea to go back to Anchorage. That couldn’t be right could it?”

Remembering her challenge the night before, Neil thought it wise to let Jerry do the talking, which he did. He laid it all out for her, just as Neil had done for him, and let her think about it. Once again, adhering to the mindset of the devil you know is sometimes better than the devil you don’t, she agreed that the logic was sound, if terrifying and unpalatable.

“How you guys goin’ta sell this to everyone else?” she asked.

It didn’t take much selling as it turned out. In fact, spying the “living” bridge through the binoculars discouraged any thoughts about proceeding north. No one was interested in tempting fate needlessly.

Emma commented as she peered through the binoculars, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more disgusting. They look like insects or something, slithering all over one another. I guess we should be thankful they’re all tangled and can’t get up.” She lowered the glasses and asked no one in particular, “Back to Anchorage, huh?”

Dr. Caldwell thought for a second and then said, “There is another alternative that hasn’t been mentioned.”

Neil said thankfully, “We’re all ears Doc.”

“What about Eagle River? There was a, relatively speaking, fairly vibrant retail presence there. Maybe there’s still something to be had by checking it out.”

Emma asked, “Didn’t you live there?”

“Yes. And our house is fairly removed.”

Neil started to speak but only got out, “Doc, she’s probably...”

“I know, I know. There’s not a whole lot of hope but I think we might be able to get into Eagle River and find a safe place to hide indefinitely. If there aren’t a lot of those things around then we might be able to find a place to stay for the winter possibly.”

Neil said, “I think it’s worth a look. What do you guys think?”

No one said anything for a few seconds and then Meghan chimed in with, “Let’s do it. Maybe Eagle River was able to stay off of those things’ radar. Maybe it’s still safe.”

And so, Eagle River it was.

The journey south was uneventful and anticlimactic. Plodding back over the same steps, including passing through the now familiar horrors of the failed roadblock attempt, felt wrong to all of them. This, despite the fact that their past lives had been based largely upon tracing and retracing the same routines day in and day out. Whether their feelings were justified or not were immaterial; the mood of the group was what it was, pure and simple.

Realizing that whatever perceived threats were minimal, Dr. Caldwell and Neil were more daring, wandering deeper into the road in search of anything useful. They found a couple of the soldiers’ M4’s under some bodies, but both guns were empty of ammunition and so covered with gore than neither men thought it worth the effort to carry them. Short of that, there was nothing of value to be uncovered within the short distance either man was willing to wade into the bog of bodies.

Wandering still further south, they chose to pause at Mirror Lake. Despite the day having no inspiration beyond a pale, grey, featureless sky, the lake was still beautiful. The water had a slightly curious ripple, asking questions of the breeze that teased its mood.

Dr. Caldwell said from somewhere far away, “We used to bring the kids down here for Saturday picnics. We had a small canoe that we’d take out...the kids and me that is, while Valerie got lunches together. Actually, the lunches would already be packed and ready but this was her chance to get a few peaceful moments to herself and it gave me the opportunity to be a dad for a few minutes. She was an awfully smart lady.”

Emma asked, “What were their names? Your kids I mean.”

“Jacob and Laura. Jacob’s in his last year of college and Laura’s in her first.”

“The proud papa, huh?”

“Yeah, they’re good kids.” He trailed off with both his voice and his eyes.

Emma sensed his worry and tried to reassure him. “I’m sure they’re okay. I mean, they’re thousands of miles away, right? There’s no way this thing could’ve spread down there already. Someone had to have figured this out by now. Figured out how to stop it. Don’t ya think?”

The doctor had drifted away. His feet took him to the edge of the water, where he stopped and saw a canoe from the past with a father and his two children gliding effortlessly under the warm summer sun. Maybe Emma was right, but there was as much of an opportunity that she was wrong and the doctor could not ignore that possibility. The not knowing was as distressing as anything else. And getting this close to his home and his wife only made all of the emotions that much more powerful. He needed to know.

On the far side of the lake, near a docked floatplane, he could see a group of twenty or so people milling about with the unmistakable stilted gait of the undead. Getting everyone’s attention, he pointed across to them. From this distance, the ghouls were not much of a threat, but their presence suggested that there was a possibility that more of them could be near, so Neil said to all of them, “This place isn’t safe. Let’s catch our breath and get back on the road. We still have a bit of traveling to do.”

Claire said with a bit of a whine to her voice, “But we just got here. They’re all the way over there. Can’t we wait for just a bit? It doesn’t even look like they know that we’re here. Look at them. They’re just standing there.” Looking over at them more intently, Claire winced a bit and shook her head. She had to admit. Even from this distance the walking dead were horrifying.

Neil, looking over at them as well, countered, “I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I want to gamble with everyone’s lives for an extra breather. Do you?”

Claire shot him an ireful look but didn’t say anything. Neil, however, took the hint. He said, “What does everyone else want to do? We can wait for a bit and try to stay out of sight or we can get back on the road. I’m good either way, I guess.”

Claire was a little surprised by the last thing he said because he sounded sincere. She looked at everyone and said almost apologetically, “I’m not trying to be the opposition here. I just think that maybe we should take our time when we can. If we’re always in a hurry we might, I don’t know...”

Neil was nodding the whole time, while everyone else just stared, listened, and waited. Finally, Claire said in exasperation, “Oh, never mind. Neil, you’re probably right.”

Quickly, Neil spoke up, “No, I think you’re onto something Claire. If we don’t need to be rushing, then maybe we shouldn’t be. We have to conserve all our resources, including our own energy. It’s not just about whether my legs are tired or not. It’s about all of us. I would like to add, however, that we also are contending with time and the days are getting shorter. We can’t afford to dawdle.”

Meghan finally asked, “So what are we going to do?” And to Neil she asked, “Dawdle? Really? Who uses that word anymore?”

Neil ignored her ribbing and answered the serious question by looking at everyone with the question in his eyes rather than in his voice. Danny and Jules shared their own idea by fishing out some granola bars from their backpacks.

Dr. Caldwell, seeing the decisiveness of the children, said with a smile, “Finally, someone with some true, honest sense about them. Rome burned while Nero fiddled. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t eat a bit while we figure out what to do.”

The quick snack effectively ended the debate; though not the vigilance. The perils of a common day were anything but common any longer. Not too long ago, the worst to expect was a frightful but typically not life threatening encounter with wildlife or perhaps having an unsavory vandal break into one’s car while you were away. It had been quite a turn the world had taken.