Dead Quarantine (18 page)

She got out and he did after her.
“Wait.”

“Here, the keys. I'll walk home; it's only a
five-minute walk at most.”

“Won't you need the car?”

“No, but can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.”

“If...things turn bad, seek me out.”

She winced and a sad smile edged at the
corners of her lips. “Yeah...” She looked at her home. “I can do
that.”

“And, Sarah, not only if things don't work
out. I'll wait at my house for a day and will come for you
after.”

“So, I won't kiss you good-bye then.”

“You may kiss me a see-you-later.”

She hugged him and kissed each cheek. “Take
care.”

He had never been this close to her. She had
never shook his hand before today, and he certainly never kissed
her in greeting. Still, he did not feel all that closer to her, but
somewhere in there was a friend. He had decided to prefer to have
her at his side than to go alone in this world. He glanced back.
She still stood in front of her steps, watching him go. She waved
to him, and he waved back before turning onto the next street and
out of sight.

He saw no one on his walk home, not even a
zombie, or cat or dog. The lie of quarantine turned out quite
effective, keeping everyone inside, and those who died from the
street. Only the small percentage that would not comply would be
left outside, dead and walking. It should have been easy to deal
with them. Something must have gone wrong. More got out than
planned or the soldiers’ vaccine did not work. Whatever happened,
it turned out that those supposed to keep things under control were
now walking among the dead.

He reached his house. First thing he noticed
was that his dad’s car was missing. What kept his dad from home? He
was running late; his mom had told him so before she dropped him
off at school yesterday. He must have been stranded somewhere on
his way back from his business trip or worse. His heart sank at the
thought.

In front of the door, with his fist raised
to knock, he paused. He felt the fear build in the pit of his
belly. He now understood Sarah's hesitance. This was the moment he
would know if they were still alive. This was definitive. He
swallowed his fears and knocked. The wait was a mass of horrible
seconds that went by like hours. He held his breath, scared he
would breathe away hope.

“Who is it?” he heard his mother call.

He laughed out loud, hysterical that she was
still alive. “It's me, Ralph.”

“Ralph?”

The door swung open and his mother closed
him in her arms. “I thought you were dead. I called St. Mark’s.
They said you were sent to quarantine. I never heard back from
them.”

She dragged him inside and quickly shut the
door. She was in tears, hugging him and kissing his face—to the
point it made him feel uncomfortable. He still couldn't believe it.
She was alive and flu free.

“Mom, you got better.”

“Yes, last night it got real bad. I passed
out, but thank God, when I woke up the flu was gone. It was the
nastiest and shortest flu I have ever had.”

He felt a pang of guilt at hearing this. He
had left Lauryn for dead. She could still be out there, without
shelter. Leaving her was like killing her. She wouldn't survive
long out there alone. He touched his lips, remembering her
touch.

“Is something wrong?”

“Never mind me, where is Ginny?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “In her
room.”

This was great, his mom and Ginny were all
right, what were the odds? It must be that whatever countered this
flu was hereditary; nothing else could explain how his whole family
was okay. He had high hopes for Sarah—that despite her gloom she
would find out her family was fine. Maybe both their families could
collaborate to survive this. The more people together, the higher
the chances of beating this thing were.

“I so want to see her.”

His mother grabbed him by the jacket's
sleeve. “No, not right now. She is sleeping.”

Was that panic in her voice?

“Just a quick peek.”

“She had a rough night and is still not
feeling well.” She looked at him pleadingly. “Let her rest, maybe
later, okay?”

“Okay, Mom, but tell me what's wrong with
her.”

His mother went into the kitchen and warmed
water in a water heater. “You want some tea?”

Ralph nodded. She placed two cups on the
kitchen counter and waited for the water to boil. She did not turn
once to face him or say anything more to him. Her shoulders were a
little hitched, her muscles tense. He felt fear slowly grip him
again. There was more going on than she let on. She didn't answer
his question nor did she want him to see Ginny. He braced himself
for the worst.

She made tea and filled the cups. With a cup
in each hand, she sat down at the dining table. He joined her and
got a cup shoved in front of him. It was hot to the touch, way too
hot to drink. His mother didn't touch hers either. She stared out
the window for a long while before she finally spoke.

“She is still fighting the flu. I have her
quarantined in her room; that's why I don't want you to see her,
and I don't want her to get too excited seeing you. She has not
been herself since...”

Ralph put his hands on his head. He felt
powerless. Ginny was alone in her room, ill, and he could do
nothing about it. Just sit here and wait.

“Mom, please, can't anything be done to help
her?

“We ran out of medicine a while ago. I
wanted to go to the pharmacy and get some for her, make her better,
back into the little kid she was.”

Tears welled in her eyes; she choked and
started crying. “I...I…”

He went over to her and put his arm around
her.

“I'll go get whatever you need, Mom.”

“Oh, Ralph, you shouldn't. Before the news
got cut off, I heard there was rioting downtown. It might be worse
now.”

She didn't know. Staying inside all day and
with the government covering things up, she must have missed it
all. It would be too much for him to bring her up to speed now.
With Ginny still ill, it was best she didn't know what was really
going on. She might take him for crazy or she would protest him
going out to get Ginny the medicine.

“Riots are long over; everyone is staying
inside, scared to catch the flu. I guess only pharmacies and
hospitals are still open.”

She nodded, staring sullenly out the window.
Since when could he so easily lie to her without her catching him
it? It must be a combination of worry and recovering from the flu.
This flu certainly packed a punch. It must have hit so hard that it
brought people back with their senses so far gone that they forgot
they were dead. It must be a hell of time recovering from that,
more so than she was letting on. She smiled at him while seconds
ago she still was all spaced out.

“I'll make a list with what we need.”

***

Ralph had just gotten home and already he
stood outside, tucking the list his mother gave him into his
pocket. She quickly pushed a key in his hand.

“Take care and don't break my car like you
did yours.”

“I won't. And Mom, if Sarah comes by, tell
her I'll be right back.”

“Sarah? Isn't that the girl you like?”

“Yeah, sort of, just don't tell her
that.”

He waved good-bye. He was not sure if this
was real. Ralph opened the garage and walked past the car to the
back of the garage. Before he left, he had to get something first.
He searched the shelves. He found a hammer and took it. He had lost
the one he had taken from the construction shack when he crashed
the truck through the roadblock. It sure could come in handy having
a hammer with him if he ran into a zombie.

The pharmacy was not far from his home, only
a five-minute drive. He made it in quick time and double parked in
front of the store. The place looked deserted, just like the whole
city. He got out; his hammer clutched it in his hand. He looked
around and flinched when he saw the police car parked three cars
down. He laughed when he realized cops didn't matter anymore in
this new world he was so fortunately to inherit.

“No more cops fining people for double
parking; much too busy eating a new kind of donut.”

He noticed he said it out aloud and laughed
at his impending insanity. Before going to the store, he walked
over to the squad car. Maybe he could get something useful out of
it. Stealing from the man, how low had he gone? The sun reflected
off the car's glass. He bent forward, shielding his eyes with both
hands to look in. It didn’t help. There was too much sun on his
back, but he saw someone sitting at the steering wheel.

The cop slowly stirred and noticed him.
Ralph knocked on the window and waited for him to roll it down.
Instead, the cop punched through the glass and pushed his whole
body forward to get to Ralph. The glass cut the zombie cop's face
open. Ralph fell backward and kicked the asphalt to get out of
reach. He jumped up and swung the hammer down, caving in the
zombie's head, which made a satisfying squishing sound.

Ralph opened the squad door and pulled the
cop out. He grabbed the police-issued firearm, a 9mm Glock, and a
spare clip. He pushed the gun into the back of his pants, pocketed
the clip, pulled the squad car key out the ignition, and opened the
trunk. A bulletproof vest, a shotgun, a box of shells, and a couple
of 9mm boxes. He grabbed it all and transferred them to the trunk
of his mom's car. Someday, all that could come in handy.

Ralph walked to the pharmacy door. The sign
at the door read
open.
He pushed it and entered. He heard no
noise and saw no signs of life. He gripped his hammer tightly,
ready to hit anyone or anything that popped out. He stopped in the
middle aisle, listening. These zombies were not the most silent
types, but there were always exceptions to the rule like the
dickless townhouse zombie that sneaked up on him and Sarah.

Once he was convinced that he was alone, he
slipped the list from his pocket and went down the aisles to
collect what was on the list. Most of the things he needed weren't
in the rows and rows of products stapled onto each other. He put
what he had gathered on the counter and looked for the rest behind
the counter and on the wall with shelves of prescription boxes.

“What do you think you are doing?” a man
said, while Ralph was facing the wall with a box with painkillers
in his hand. He put the box back and wanted to turn and take a look
at who was talking. “Don't you dare turn your ass! Raise your
hands!”

Slowly, Ralph raised his hands.

“Looks like he's robbing the place,
Steward,” another male said somewhere to his right.

“No names, you idiot.”

Ralph glanced sideways. A young man with a
red baseball cap held a knife in his right hand and Ralph's hammer
in his left. He shouldn't have left it on top of the aisles when he
started gathering the items he needed. Hindsight was a bitch.

“Stop calling me names, STEWARD, and hurry
and get his gun.”

“No, you go get his gun.”

They had him by the balls. Robbed in broad
daylight in a city with almost no one alive, he had the luck of
running into two other survivors with low morals. He stifled a
laugh—says he who broke into a house, plundered a squad car, and
now was emptying the shelves of a pharmacy.

The one called Steward said, “What are you
waiting for? Grab his gun.”

“I'm the one holding the weapon here, while
you're just standing there behaving like the boss.”

Ralph tensed for a second. He heard quick
stomping behind him. He whirled around and drew his gun. A large,
tall man froze and then backed down.

“I think you guys better leave this
place.”

“The hell we will,” said baseball cap.
“You’re going to give us your car keys and that gun you are holding
or else we'll mess you up good.”

“Catch,” red hat man yelled to Steward. He
threw the hammer and Steward caught it.

“Yeah, he's right,” Steward said. “Give us
your shit. You can only get one of us; the other one will get
you.”

“Guys, come on. Has there not been enough
killing?”

He couldn't go home empty handed. Ginny
needed the medicine. He didn't want to shoot anyone either. He
would rather they just left him alone. There were so many other
stores they could hit. They must also see the pointlessness of
this.

Red hat man charged. Without a second
thought Ralph shot him twice in the chest. Steward seemed surprised
that Ralph actually shot his gun and reacted a few seconds too
late, giving Ralph enough time to slug him with four bullets in the
abdomen and chest. Both men dropped, bleeding to death.

Ralph stood paralyzed, realizing what he
just had done. He had killed two men. Two healthy men in a world
full of dead. He could just have walked away. He let his gun go. It
clattered to the floor. He dropped to his knees next to it. Shaking
all over, his stomach rocked with nausea. He hugged himself and
cried out in desperation.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Sarah watched him walk away. He was not the same boy she knew. They
had gone to the same elementary school, the same high school,
practically lived next to each other, and she never talked as much
with him as she had today. She knew almost nothing about him. This
was the same guy she deemed not worthy of thought before this all
had happened, and now she wished she had known him better. Maybe
her life would have turned out differently. Maybe Lilly would still
be alive. She waved. He waved back and walked out of sight.

She had promised herself that she had shed
her last tear on that roof. She had not cried when Ralph told her
Lilly had died. She didn't when she heard that Zach and Les had
died. She did not cry when Jake died. No, she had smiled at his
death. Ralph had seen her smile and looked at her in an odd way,
reproachful even. He couldn't have known how ironic it was that in
betraying her, Jake had sealed his own fate. Despite what Ralph
might think of her, he still offered her his friendship, and she
wanted to take him up on that.