Drink in case of Emergency (26 page)

Instead of stepping back, or pushing the zombie away with the barrel of her rifle, Amy tossed the gun aside and stepped forward, lashing out with a quick snapping kick at the front leg of the little girl zombie. The kick landed, throwing the zombie’s stride off balance and causing her to fall forward. Amy stepped aside and grabbed the girl with both hands by her long, brown hair.

Throwing all of her drunken rage into the move, Amy spun the girl twice in a circle before she was airborne, spinning like her father used to do when they played “airplanes”. Amy was able to build up a little steam before the little brother stepped into the line of fire, receiving the blunt force of his sister’s knee crashing sideways against his skull and toppling him to the ground. The majority of the muscles holding his spine in place had been severed by the earlier gunshot, this final blow destroying what was left of the connective tissue.

Following the collision, Amy and the little girl toppled to the ground. The girl began crawling toward Amy, who was crab walking away. Amy began to feel panic setting in.

Shit. I didn’t plan for this part. I just wanted to bash them together, like I did with barbie dolls. Her drunken mind was unable to formulate a next step, only the word ‘shit’. She was about to be eaten, and she hadn’t even been to Paris yet.

Paris, that’s a good thing for the list.

As the little girl wrapped a few cold fingers around Amy’s ankle, Amy began to pray in her mind.

‘Our father, whose arts eleven, hello be the same.‘

She felt herself getting discouraged as she was pretty certain that those were the wrong words, when a heavy boot snapped out from her peripheral vision and connected with the zombie girl’s head. It connected with such force that the girl’s head snapped back, Amy could hear the nerves popping loudly as the zombie girl fell to the ground, paralyzed from her shattered neck.

Amy felt her heart racing, as she now said a short prayer of thanks to the whatever power had just saved her life. She looked up and was finally able to register that Chris was standing over her, holding out a bandaged hand to help her up. She took the hand and brushed herself off as she got to her feet.

“Thanks.” Amy muttered quietly.

“Just returning the favor.” Chris said earnestly. “I don’t know how drunk you have to be to not turn into a zombie, but I’m pretty sure a bite wound to the ankle would be a bitch to deal with, regardless.” Amy looked up and saw the gratitude in his eyes, and she felt better about the situation.

Jessica, showing her newfound courage, dispatched the paralyzed little girl zombie with a shot to the head. The guys finished their introductions with Brooke, and the group discussed where they would hold up for the night, as evening was fast approaching. Scott and Justin wanted to go back to the office complex that they had spent the previous night at, but Brooke talked them into exploring another idea.

While they talked, a pair of eyes watched carefully from an alley across the street. Watched, and prayed for answers of what this all meant.

****

Five minutes and two blocks later, the group, now numbering seven, walked confidently through the front doors of the Ritz-Carlton hotel. The glamorous lobby had classic crystal chandeliers, marble floors, as well as a half dozen zombies milling about. Jessica and Scott quickly dispatched each of these with single gunshots to the head. Off of the lobby, there was a plush lounge area with a vintage bar, and supple chairs. All in all, Tyler thought that it would be a fine room to have a scotch and cigar in….not that he had much experience with either.

The bar in the lounge area was stocked with rare liquors that none in the group had ever seen, and so they sampled and packed up the selections they enjoyed and moved back through the lobby to the stairwell, which began the discussion of which room they would stay in for the night.

Scott and Justin wanted to be somewhere on the third floor. Close enough to the ground that the fire escape was still a viable option, but high enough that they didn’t have to worry about anything coming through the windows. Brooke argued with them that they should at least check out the penthouse suite. Everyone agreed that they had never actually seen what a penthouse suite looked like, and it’s not like they would get another chance.

After a last ditch complaint about the number of stairs the guys had already climbed that day, the women won the argument by walking up the stairs and the men quickly followed.

The evening was spent in the most expensive hotel room in the city. The penthouse suite was essentially a luxurious four bedroom apartment with every amenity imaginable. Plush carpets, rich fabrics, and modern, distinctively non-hotel-room-ish decor. The downside was that they didn’t get the chance to try out the whirlpool tub or the computerized showers, due to a lack of electricity.

The kitchen of the penthouse suite was fully stocked with canned and dry goods, and Justin and Jessica went to work with cooking. Amy crashed in one of the bedrooms to sleep off the worst of her hangover from her afternoon of heavy drinking, while Brooke, Chris, Scott and Tyler toured the rest of the apartment and set up a barrier in the stairwell to serve as a defensive perimeter.

***

For dinner, Justin and Jessica had whipped up a large batch of whole wheat spaghetti. While there were no meatballs, there were plenty of canned vegetables to thicken up the sauce. The group ate by candlelight, as the penthouse, as well as the entire city, was plunged into darkness with the coming dusk. Amy had woken up when she smelled the sauce simmering, although her hungover had not been diminished much by the nap.

“Note to self. Scott said, wiping away some stray sauce from the corners of his mouth. “Wherever we do end up settling down, make sure it has a gas stove so we can still cook.”

“Any idea on where you’re planning to settle down?” Brooke asked, as nonchalantly as she was able to muster, given that she was on her third glass of wine.

“Well we don’t actually know if we’re going to ‘settle down’ even. I mean, we’ve still got a lot of stuff left to do before then.” Tyler said, feeling just a little bit frustrated that Scott would bring up the idea of settling down so soon in their adventure.

“Stuff...to...do.” Brooke said each word slowly and deliberately, letting her tone turn the statement into a question, fully aware of where she was leading the conversation. Wide grins broke out on almost everyone at the table. Everyone, Tyler noted, except Amy, who still looked like she wanted to die. It was Justin who explained the vague statement.

“We’ve got a running list. Of things we want to do, now that we don’t really have jobs go to, or places we have to be.”

“Kind of like a bucket list. Except everything was essentially dreamed up while we were three sheets to the wind.” Chris contributed, while Tyler grabbed the leather bound journal from his bag and slid it across the table for Brooke to browse. She spent most of the next few minutes wavering between silent laughter and blank stares of shock.

“Personally, I think it’s fair to say that it’s time for one of the girls to pick something off the list.” Chris said, taking a sip from a bottle of wine.

“But, Scott and Tyler already got to pick theirs, when do we get to pick ours?” Justin retorted. “We don’t know how much time we have left. After all, a little girl zombie almost took a bite out of one of my love handles today.”

“What if we find something on this little list of yours that we can all agree on?” Brooke suggested, a sly smile crossing her face. “How about you pick three things you would like to do from the list, and then us girls will narrow it down to one? Does that seem fair?” Justin furrowed his brow for a moment, then nodded in agreement. Amy spoke up from the other end of the table, her voice hoarse.

“Don’t care, up for anything.” Amy sipped on a tall mug of herbal tea that she had made, deciding to forego any alcohol for tonight after her drunken heroics of the day.

“I know you saved my life earlier today too, so I’ll go along with whatever you want too.” Jessica said, looking at Brooke from across the table as she recalled the earlier events of the day.

“Sweet. Then you narrow it down, and I’ll pick from your list.”

Justin looked hard at the list, trying to remember what he had contributed to the list as it was being created. Finally he took a black felt pen and put little stars next to three items on the list. He slid the diary across the table to land in front of Brooke. She glanced over the list, her bright blue eyes moving quickly. Her lips parted in a smile, revealing her bright, white teeth.

“The second one. I pick San Francisco.”

“That’s exactly what I was hoping you would pick.” Justin flashed a genuine smile.

“Not that your other choices were bad. As much as I hate Budweiser, it was all my dad drank when I was growing up, so I really don’t think I could burn down the factory.”

“It didn’t say anything about burning. The word was ‘explode’.”

“Regardless, we’re off to San Francisco?” Tyler cut in, his tone reveling the obvious question. What’s in San Francisco?”

“Rice-a-Roni?” Chris offered jokingly.

“The world’s greatest race track,” Justin said, sipping on a bottle of green liquor they had retrieved from the basement. “We just have to build it first.”

The next morning, Amy woke early and made a pancake breakfast for the group. “Gonna need our strength if we’re on the road all day.” The tables had turned from the night before. She was feeling good, and everyone else was hungover.

Despite the situation, she did not abuse her friends as they struggled to recover from yet another rough hangover. For the most part, the group ate in relative silence, other than the occasional mumble of thanks to Amy for cooking a breakfast for them.

“So, earlier today, I ran downstairs and grabbed an atlas. It looks like we’ll probably be running south and then just pretty much straight west? Unless anyone has some sites they’d like to see along the way?” Amy looked between the faces of her friends, and saw that nobody was going to argue with anything she said today, at least not this morning.

With the morning going so slowly, the group decided that they would spend another night in the hotel, and make their way out tomorrow. “But no more drinking today, we need to be sharp on the road.” Scott threatened. Amy, being the sober one, offered to make a trip down to the city to retrieve water and gatorade for everyone. Justin, always quick to recover from his hangovers, offered to go with her. Shortly after noon, they climbed down the forty stories and into the warm, overcast daylight.

From their view in the penthouse, they could see a Walgreens just a couple blocks down the street. Upon exiting the building, they turned south and moved in relative silence through the gray morning, unaware their every move was being followed.

****

From the third story of a smaller office building, Father O’Connell watched in confusion and horror. This was impossible. It was the same man from yesterday, the one who got bit.

I saw him receive God’s blessing. What is happening?

Father O’Connell had followed the group the previous day and initially had been excited. The two girls had found a third, the flock was growing, and thanks to the one who had already had his ticket punched for heaven, they might all be going soon.

Then as time dragged on, and almost an hour had passed, Father O’Connell began to worry. He had to hide when the group left the park yesterday, they walked within only a few feet of him as he hid behind a dumpster in an alley. He even peeked out, just to see, up close, that the man had truly been bitten. Father O’Connell breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the bandaged arm, the red bite mark showing clearly through the white gause. He followed them, to the fancy old hotel that would be their stairway to heaven.

Only it didn’t turn out that way. For some reason, this young man hadn’t changed. Was there something else wrong with him? Why was he still here? Why wasn’t he with God now? Why weren’t they all with God now? Father O’Connell decided to follow them, hoping to find out more. Thankfully, with how quiet the city had become, he didn’t have to follow very close to overhear their conversation.

“Man, it is going to be nice to get the city behind us.” Justin spoke as he and Amy crossed the street to avoid a small group of four zombies that were milling around the opening of an alleyway.

“You don’t like it here?” Amy asked, a note of concern in her voice.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad town. I’m just looking forward to having a little more space.”

“An entire metropolitan city doesn’t have enough space for you?” The two veered back toward their original sidewalk to avoid another group of zombies that were taking up the middle of the street.

“Well, it’s got the space, but it’s also got a few million zombies to avoid.” Amy thought about this point, and it made sense. In a smaller city, there’d be a lot fewer zombies to avoid, or at the very least they would be spread out over a greater amount of space.

“How’s your arm doing, anyway?” Amy reached down and took Justin’s arm, inspecting the gauze which had a hint of a dark colored stain on it.

“Feels like I got bit. But I’m doing a lot better than the other guy, so there’s always that.” Despite his joke, Amy kept inspecting the bandaged arm.

“We should grab some meds and stuff while we’re grabbing water, just in case you’re infected or something.”

“Might not be a bad idea. It’d be a little embarrassing to survive a zombie attack just to die of infection a couple of weeks later.”

“I’m glad that Chris thought to bring the brandy with you.” Amy said. “She’s getting a lot better, but I think it’d still drive me crazy if I had to ride out the end of the world with only Jessica to keep me company.”

“Yeah, the guys are great and all too, but it’s nice to have some female company too. Keeps things balanced.” By this point, the pharmacy was only a block away, but the road was half blocked by a small group of around a dozen zombies. They seemed to be slowly filtering out of an apartment building.

“You want to try to sneak by them, or just go around the block?” Amy asked. Justin noticed her hand moved toward the gun she had in her jacket pocket when she spoke.

“Might as well go around, we’re not in any rush.”

The duo rounded the block, seeing fewer zombies on these side streets than they had seen on their original route. When the arrived at the front door of Walgreens, they found that it had already been broken in. Justin and Amy both drew their guns, and stepped gingerly through the broken glass.

****

Father O’Connell watched as the two sheep left the main street, although he knew they were coming back, so he chose not to follow them on their trip around the block. Instead, he moved quietly through the growing throng of zombies that had served as a detour for the couple. The building across from the drugstore was under construction, and Father O’Connell crawled up onto the scaffolding which lined the first story of the building, and found a spot to observe where he could be hidden, behind a locked box of tools.

After only a minute of waiting, the young man and woman came from around the corner and walked up to the front door of Walgreens. They each pulled out a gun, and walked in through the broken glass door.

There was a part of Father O’Connell that wished the two would be attacked by God’s chosen while they were in the store, just to put to rest this whole issue of the boy being a survivor of God’s kiss. There was another part of him that wanted to wait until he could be sure that the whole group of young people would be saved all at once. It might require a little more planning, but it just felt like the right way.

Father O’Connell had to wait for another two minutes before he heard the crack of gunfire. He expected the two to come running out of the building (or maybe just the girl, firing at the boy because he finally changed), but it was almost five more minutes before Father O’Connell saw any movement.

When he saw movement, it was uncomfortably calm. The two young people were each pushing a shopping cart out through the broken door and into the street. The carts seemed to be filled with grocery items and several first aid kits.

Father O’Connell felt his anger rise in his chest. They were supposed to all be gone already. Why on Earth were they still here? And even more importantly, how on Earth were they so damned calm about it? Father O’Connell almost gave in to his frustration, wanting to chase down the two young people and force them to meet their maker, right here and now, but he knew he had to be patient. They were armed, afterall. And even more importantly, they had friends who needed saving, just as much as they did.

He had to do something, he had to save this group of young people. He had to delivery them into God’s hands, and he knew that the only way for this delivery to work was to use the vessels as the gateway to God.

He had already failed once, when the men of the group had escaped the trap he had set for them in the WIllis Tower. He needed a fool-proof plan. One that was guaranteed to work. He would need to be patient. Heaven was forever, after all. If it took him a day or two more to save these young people, then so be it.

He reflected on what he had seen of them so far: drinking, cussing, carrying on. They were not living in such a way that could lead them towards God’s light. The Father knew that wine was a sacred gift from God, but these heathens used it, and it’s many cousins, without any regard to it’s true value or purpose. They needed to be brought into God’s light, they needed to experience the Change that the rest of the world had. This was to be his challenge. Once he saved these damned souls, he was sure that God would welcome him into his kingdom.

             
He knew that this would be a true challenge. He had seen how they had handled the changed ones. Most of those that Father had saved thus far had regarded the changed ones with fear. They ran and cried and avoided the changed ones at all cost. Not these people. Using guns and bats and other weapons, they had no respect or regard for the changed ones, for the vessels of those that God had already called. They would kill without pity or pause, and they had the weapons to do so.

             
Father O’Connell knew this would be a hard group to save, but the challenge was the evidence that this was to be his life’s great work. This is what God wanted from him. So he followed, and listened, and waited.

             
He knew he would have his chance. He only needed to be patient. He could save these souls. He would save these souls.

A plan began to form in his mind. A trap, that even these confident young people couldn’t escape. He knew where they were headed. He could hear the young man and woman talk about going south tomorrow and connecting with the interstate to head west.

He had to catch them off guard, that was all. To do that, he just needed a little bit of a head start to set his trap. As soon as the two young people were out of sight, Fath O’Connell climbed down from his hiding place and began walking south, his mind rapidly piecing together the puzzle of how he would snare these souls for God.

When Justin and Amy returned to the hotel, they hauled up a half a case of water and gatorade, as well as one of the first aid kits and some snack foods they had grabbed. They found the group lethargic, just as they had left them. Everyone thanked them for the gatorade and snacks, and the rest of the day went along lazily.

Later that evening, Justin and Tyler made dinner again, a simple meal of homemade chicken noodle soup and macaroni and cheese. The trust in foods that required refrigeration was beginning to fade, but frozen chicken breasts were still trustworthy, or at least after they had been boiled for an hour.

The group had their dinner of comfort foods, followed by light drinks and a general plan of how their trip would go for the next couple of days. After how difficult it was to drive in a major city like Chicago, it was decided that they would avoid major cities on their route to San Francisco.

All in all, with the route they were planning, the trip would take somewhere between three and four days. The first day would just be for getting out of the Chicago area, then they would pick up either a big van or SUV in the suburbs. After finalizing the plan, everyone got to bed early, so they could be ready for a full day of hiking.