Containment (8 page)

All of that quickly ran through his head, but he said aloud to Jules, “Alec is tough and smart. I’m sure that he is just fine. We’ll probably see him soon. As soon as we can find a way out of Anchorage, I’ll bet the two of you will get back together.”

Jules seemed to roll this around in her head for a second or two before saying, “I’m glad you’re here, Danny.”

“I’m glad you’re here too, Jules. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Will it? Really?”

Danny wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of much anymore. In fact, the only certainties that came to him were his hunger, his weariness, and his fear that they would run into more zombies...zekes. For a moment, though, he wasn’t forced to answer as the shouting coming from inside the ice cream shop distracted all of them.

While the others waited outside or in the lobby of the shop, Dr. Caldwell moved slowly through the cooking and preparation stations in the back. He was careful not to disturb anything for fear of making a noise that could compromise their search. Neil was moving just a few feet behind the doctor. He too was moving very gingerly between the stainless steel appliances and hanging kitchen utensils. Nothing seemed to be out of place, but that was no reason for complacency.

At first glance, all seemed to be in order and nothing amiss. Then the two of them spotted an opened box lying on the floor, several empty plastic snack-sized packages of chips scattered here and there on the floor. There were also some empty water bottles kicked under a washbasin.

Neil noticed some muddy footprints coming in through what was more than likely a back freight door. The prints were not new, but they had likely been left after the most recent mopping of the tiled floor. He was fairly certain there hadn’t been much mopping going on since that apocalyptic morning a few weeks back. It was apparent to him that someone had come in recently and they were careful to avoid giving away their presence. Toward the back of the kitchen, there was a large stainless steel door to what was quite obviously a walk-in freezer or cooler of some sort.

Dr. Caldwell pointed toward it without saying a word. The shotgun had never left Neil’s shoulder, but now he redoubled his grip and found himself holding his breath again. The doctor motioned to Neil to step back and keep his eyes and the shotgun pointed toward the door. He then went to the heavy handle and hesitated. He took in two deep breaths, holding the second, and then pulled the lever opening the door.

There on the floor of the cooler was a man and woman. There were more of the empty chip bags and water bottles as well as other partially eaten foodstuffs. Neither of the people moved and in the darkness, neither Neil nor Dr. Caldwell could tell if either of them were breathing. They were both relatively sure that zombies didn’t sleep but both were as frozen in their steps as the banana splits and chocolate sundaes featured in pictures on the walls all around them.

And then the woman on the floor opened her eyes, slowly, blinking them rapidly trying to clear her fuzzy, sleep riddled vision. Her scream startled her companion awake, who leapt to his feet and hoisted a wooden baseball bat onto his shoulders like he was waiting for the next pitch to cross the plate.

Captured in a rigid tableau, they all just held their positions while the woman, still on the floor, continued to utter her single, long syllable shriek. When she had spent all of the air in her lungs and quiet had momentarily returned, Dr. Caldwell emerged from the other side of the open freezer door and lowered Neil’s gun with his hand.

There was a pause before anyone moved or said anything. The man and woman, now on her feet, stood their ground, not entirely sure what the gun toting men standing in front of them wanted.

Finally, Neil said, “Do you want to come outside where there’s a little more light so we can talk?”

The woman, a thin, hungry looking blonde woman walked around her companion slowly and approached Neil. “Are you part of a rescue team? Is it over? Is everything safe again?”

Dr. Caldwell extended his hand and said, “Maybe we should go outside to talk.”

The other man shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere until we know what you guys want.”

“Give it a rest, Art. They’ve got guns. Do you think they wouldn’t have already used them if they had anything like that in mind?”

Neil asked, “Like what?”

The woman now turned to Neil. “It’s amazing how awful some people can be in times of tragedy. Remember all the ugly things that you heard about people doing to one another during the hurricane and flooding down in New Orleans a few years back? Let’s just say that I believe most of that now.”

She walked out of the freezer and said, “He’s Art. Well, not really, that’s just his name. I’m Claire.”

Once outside, questions from every angle abounded, circling the group of people like inquisitive puppies seeking attention. Names, origins, updates, information. Questions flew before answers could be formed. Finally, Dr. Caldwell held up his hands and suggested, “Okay, introductions are important and sharing stories...experiences definitely have value if we have any chance at all of piecing together a plan to live through this, and no Claire, we are not a rescue party. We can get to all of that in a bit, but for right now we should really focus on why we came here.”

With a smile Claire asked, “Frosty chocolate milkshakes?”

Neil looked at Jerry and smiled. Dr. Caldwell astonished, asked, “What in the hell is everyone’s obsessions with chocolate milkshakes?”

“What’s not to love about a good milkshake?” Emma said with a smile. “I personally prefer mine with a little Bailey’s. Mmmmm.”

With a sense of amused admonition in his voice, the doctor said, “Well stop it all of you. You’re making me crave it too and I was never much of one to like ice cream.”

Of course the good doctor was right. They found cans of chili, jars of unopened fruit topping in a rainbow of varieties, some bottled water and canned sodas. There were some other odds and ends, like toilet paper, that individuals sought out, but within less than an hour they had more or less cleaned the place out of easily portable foodstuffs. They piled as much as they could into and onto the van. And with the little bit that they couldn’t take, they had a very starchy ad hoc roadside feast.

With a mouth full of strawberry topping and bread, Emma asked, “So Claire...where’d you guys come from? How long you been holed up in there?”

Claire wiped a chocolate smear that was just barely more visible on her cheek than the smears of dirt and soot that lined her skin. She was young and probably pretty, though the last several weeks of terror and running and starving had taken toll on her looks. Emma knew that the dark under her eyes wasn’t merely dirt. There was a shallowness to her expression that was typically accompanied with dark crescents. She was exhausted. She had scratches, only partially healed and seemingly infected, on her chin and her bottom lip was split. Emma thought to herself that, under more normal circumstances, if she were to run into this girl on the street she would just assume that she was an addict with too much time between fixes.

The slight satisfaction in Claire’s otherwise flat affect faded. The recent past was a blur of terror and loss. No one had asked her what had happened to her on the first morning and she hadn’t bothered to ask any of the survivors she had encountered. And at this point, she wasn’t quite sure if she would be able to remember most of it. She had been trying so hard to let all of it go, like a nightmare, which it most certainly had become, plaguing her constantly every time she closed her eyes.

“I was going to the UAA Consortium Library to...” She stopped, shook her head, and chuckled for a moment. “It’s like I’m still talking to my folks or some of my disapproving friends. I can’t believe that I’m still doing it. Even now, after all that has happened, and to complete strangers. Good God. The truth is, I was going over to my boyfriend Michael’s house. He lived in APU housing over on the far east side of the campus. I told my mom before I left that the library was opening early and I wanted to get in before it started to get busy. I don’t know if she bought it or not but she didn’t give me any shit for it. So I left...” She began to cry. “I don’t think I even said goodbye to her. Ya know, you leave the house a million times and every one of those could be the last but we take those moments for granted and then it’s too late. I didn’t even say goodbye.” She was shaking her head back and forth, chastising herself.

Emma, hoping to draw her away from that painful place, asked, “So you were headed toward the campus...and that’s where it all began. What happened?”

“Christ! What didn’t happen? First the radio started talking about some problems at Providence and then the radio just went dead. And then traffic stopped. I’ve never seen that many cars in Anchorage except for maybe when they shoot the fireworks off on the Fourth and for Fur Rondy. It just felt like every car in the city was right there. There wasn’t no going forward or back. We were all just hemmed in nice and tight.

“I had my stereo on loud, so I didn’t hear the screams that got others out of their cars. I saw those folks all get out though and then they all started to run. I couldn’t see anything in front of us so I waited for a few seconds and then I saw more people running so I guess I just figured that it was a good time to get going myself. I grabbed my gym bag and ran away as fast as I could. It was then that I could hear the screaming behind me. I didn’t dare turn around though. It just felt too much like one of those dreams where the bad guy is chasing you and he’s just behind you with his ghoulish hand reaching out to you. You’re keeping just out of reach and if you slow even a little, you just know that he’ll get you. You know the dream?

“Anyway, me and this group of people were just running. Some folks started to slow down. They were all running out of breath. I’m in pretty good shape, but I wasn’t expecting to be doin’ no runnin’ that early in the morning. So, pretty soon I was one of only five who were still going. It was me, another lady named Joan, and three guys. One of the guys had a big dog named Max with him. He was a great dog. We ran to the Carrs at Aurora Village, there at Northern Lights and Minnesota. We got there and the place was crazy. There were people running in and then running out with the craziest things in their arms. One guy was carrying a pile of cakes. He must’ve had at least five cakes. He just ran out, threw the cakes in his car, and drove off.

“Someone said that people were being directed to schools. Well, Romig Middle School was right there in front of us and down the road a bit was another elementary school, and it just seemed like a better idea to head further away from where we had started, so we hitched a ride with a fella driving a truck and he dropped us off at the elementary school.

“It was better there. People were still scared, but they weren’t all panicked. The cafeteria staff brought out coffee and some snacks, and people were sitting around in the multipurpose room or the library. I chose the library, figuring that it would probably be carpeted. There were almost as many rumors and ideas as there were people at the school: a terrorist attack, an accident with some new weapon system out on Elmendorf, a new kind of rabies. And even the dead coming back to life, believe it or not. It all sounded pretty crazy to me. Still does, I guess.

“After maybe a couple of hours, I was out front smoking. One of the three cops there said that technically I was breaking the law, but he wasn’t in the mood to enforce it at the moment. I promised that when everything settled down that I’d never smoke on school grounds again if he’d just let me off with a warning and to let me finish my smoke first too. He was cute, ya know, so it was nice talking with him. I’m sure that my mom would have approved of him. If he had tattoos anywhere, you at least didn’t see them at first glance...not like Michael. We were just talking and then we heard this sound coming from down the road. I don’t know how to describe it really. I mean, it kind of sounded like a...like a...”

“Freight train?” interrupted Jerry.

She pointed at him and continued, “Exactly. Just a few minutes later...well, you know. They showed up. The three cops, even the cutie that I was talking to, tried their best. They shot until they couldn’t shoot anymore. I saw four or five of those things take down each of the cops. It was the most awful thing that I’ve ever seen. Luckily, Joan was there too and she grabbed my arm and pulled me away. I vaguely remember running to the back of the school with a bunch of other people. We went through an emergency door and then we were just running again. Max was with us, so I knew that his owner was there, but I didn’t recognize any of the others with us. It was like a replay of earlier. Pretty soon our herd became a clan, which became a group. This time we ended up in a hotel down on Spenard. Those things followed us but we put enough distance between us and them to be able to get into the hotel and get onto the second floor without them seeing us. I guess there were enough other folks to be chasing that they didn’t really notice that another had replaced our group.

“We hung there for a few days. There were eleven of us that got to the hotel, but there was already a small crowd of people hiding upstairs. We huddled together in rooms and waited. There was a little food in a couple of vending machines that we all shared as best as we could. We all hoped that the nightmare would pass as quickly as it had begun. Boy, were we in for a surprise. Early one morning, we all woke up to the sound of engines outside. We heard cars. Or, more to the point, trucks. These three big trucks were barreling down Spenard. I should have known better though. The trucks all had dealer tags and big signs still hanging on them. And they were all too shiny to have seen the kind of action that survivors would have seen. One of the men in the group, a high school teacher, went out front and flagged them down. As soon as I saw them, I knew that they were no good. They were whooping and hollering, probably not a sober one amongst them. I watched that man...that good, kind man who skimped on food to make sure that everyone else had enough to eat. He stood there and tried to talk to them. I saw him shaking his head once and then again. He looked over his shoulder up at us and I could see the look in his eye. We’d made a mistake.