End of the Line (31 page)

The truck stopped. That’s when I realized I had fallen asleep. A moment later the door opened and Tanya and Jake stood there. The sound woke up Jim and Annemarie.

             
“We’re at your aunt’s. No zombies I can see. Let’s move,” Tanya said to the girl.

             
Aisha put Chinakitty in a carrier. Tanya helped her down from the truck. Annemarie followed, then Jim, who looked pale. Olive jumped down before me.

             
I looked around. Tanya was right, the place was deserted. The aunt’s house looked that way as well. The girl looked upset but didn’t say anything. We walked to the ranch house with peeling blue paint. The door was closed but unlocked.

             
Inside was dark, dusty, and musty. There was no smell of dead bodies but no one had been here for a long time.

             
Then the quiet broke by the weirdest sound.

             
A push lawnmower.

             
“What the fuck?” This came from Tanya.

             
I located the source of the mower. Across the street, a middle age black man, mowed his fenced in lawn. It would have looked perfectly normal if he didn’t have a rifle strapped to his back. He saw us and waved. His blue house didn’t look worn down like the others.

             
“Mr. Greggs!” Aisha yelled out.

             
“Surreal,” Jim said.

             
I walked over to the man, thinking he must be out of his mind.

             
“How you doing, folks?” he said when we got there. “Hi there, Aisha.”

             
“Mr. Greggs—“ Aisha repeated.

             
“Your mom’s been worried about you.”
             
             

             
“Where is she?” her voice timid.

             
“She and your sis went to the gov’ment camp.”

             
“Government camp?” Jim asked.

             
“Yep, from what I hear, a former sleepaway camp out in Northport. Red Cross set up something. Got some gov’ment officials and army guys too. They came around a while ago, almost a year.”

             
I got excited. I knew the country was still here and the Ham operator was wrong. Maybe this would end soon.

             
“Do you where it is?”

             
“They told me to come. I didn’t want to. This is my home, and I’m not leaving it. Miss Aisha, I’m sorry to say your aunt went to hospital and never came home.”

             
“Oh,” Aisha said and looked down.
             
             

             
So the guy was a little bonkers trying to lead a normal life despite the zombs all around.

             
I knew we’d arrived when I saw the giant tank. It didn’t look active but it blocked the entrance. The camp fence contained badly put up barbwire in some places and boxes and smashed cars in others. In front of the gate were several barricades that a person could get around but it might prove difficult for a zombie. The camp sign was still there: Camp Hilsbrad sleepaway camp.

It made sense to come here. The worst part of the outbreak was in May, the sleepaway camp was getting ready for new campers. There were no zombies near the camp but scorch marks on the ground indicated bodies had been burned. I tried to pull the truck as close as possible but it was hard with the barricades.

“Better be careful,” Annemarie said.

“I’ll go,” I said. I wasn’t scared of our guys.

I got out of the truck slowly. I kept my hands in front of me.

“Hello?” I called out.

No response.

“Hello?” I said again. I feared the zombies had already overrun the camp and no one was here. The air smelled of burning rubber.

“Don’t move!” a female voice said. “Hands where I can see them!”

The voice came from behind the boxes. I put my hands up. I felt a little shaky, but things would be okay soon.

“What do you want?” she said. “We’re full.”

“We got a place,” I said. “I got people in the truck. One’s a girl looking for her mom. A neighbor says she’s here.”

“Prove it,” she said.

“Okay,” I said, still keeping my hands up. Hoping there were no zombs around. “I’m going to the truck and getting her. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said. “But one false move and you’re dead.”

Her desperate tone and youth told me she had an itchy trigger finger. I made my way to the back of the truck and opened the door. The others stood there but didn’t move.

“We’re here,” I told them. “But I got a woman with a gun guarding the door. She wants to see you Aisha. Come to the gate slowly with your hands up.”

“I’ll come with,” Tanya said.

“I’m worried she might shoot if she sees too many people. I’m not seeing any zombs.” I remembered what Rachel said, that I didn’t have to look after the girl, but I was wrong. I had to look after everyone.

I helped her off the truck. We slowly walked to the gate. Tanya and Jim came off the truck but stayed by it. Annemarie stayed in the cab with Olive.

“Here!” I yelled. “Here’s the girl.”

“Girl,” the woman said. “What’s your name?”

“Aisha Long.”

“And your mother’s name?”

“Lynne Johnson.”

“Why do you have two different last names?”

“My parents are divorced. Johnson’s her maiden name.”

“Okay,” she said, “All of you. Come to the gate slowly.”

We were watched like hawks when we came inside. The woman didn’t meet us, she stayed by a guardhouse.  Instead three heavily armed men met us at the gate. One black guy, one white guy and a Spanish guy whose name tag read Hernandez. I didn’t care what color they were only that they were wearing National Guard uniforms. I felt happy for the first time in a while. Finally soldiers, our boys, they would put a stop to this. “You need to leave your weapons at the gate,” the white soldier said.

“Don’t think so,” Tanya said.

“We don’t know who you are. We’ve had problems in the past. If you want to come in, leave your weapons here.”

“What’s to stop you from stealin them?”

“Nothing. You’ll have to trust us.”

“Trust you, and you can’t trust me—“

“Tanya,” I said, looking at the soldier. “We can trust them.”

She looked mad, but she put her hand gun on the table near the gate. “Hand in your weapons and go to that house on the right,” he said. “They’ll take your names.”

“What for?” Annemarie said.

“We’re establishing a database of survivors. If someone came looking for you, we could let them know you’re alive.”

“What about the dead?” Annemarie asked. “Are you doing the same?”

“Yes, go to the house and they’ll explain. Follow Hernandez.”

The smell of burning rubber became stronger. I’m surprised there wasn’t zombs all over.

As if he was reading my mind, Hernandez said. “The stench is bad but you’ll get used to it. We burn different things to try to cover the smell of humans. It seems to work. We get our share of zombies but we aren’t overrun.”

He was right. I didn’t see anything outside. “How many live here?”

“About 150.”

“And the government’s in charge? Are there other camps?”

Hernandez started laughing almost to the point of choking.

“What’s so funny?” I asked as we entered the house.

“There’s no government anymore.”

Chapter 20

The camp was run by remnants of the Red-Cross, some Suffolk officials and a handful of national guardsmen which was what Hernandez told me before he sat us in front of a middle aged red haired woman. They picked the sleepaway camp because it was on the Sound and so it had one part cut off from the zombs. The main office of the camp used to be a house and the woman sat in a living room at a plastic desk that had a computer and piles of paper.

“I’m Felicia Ray. I was formerly a deputy assistant commissioner of Suffolk county health services. All of my colleagues died of the flu or killed by zombies,” she explained, stoically. “I need your name and the name of anyone you know alive or dead.”

“What about my mom?” Aisha said. “Is she here?”

“First I need to find out about you folks. If she’s here, we’ll locate her.”

“What do you want first?” Tanya said.

“Why don’t you start with all of your names?”

The others gave their names, but I couldn’t say anything. I had to let it sink in.

There wasn’t a government anymore. No cavalry coming to save us. I always complained about those asshats from Washington, those tax and spend liberals, those useless jerks.

Now they were gone. And with it, the world that I knew was gone. Sure some time in the future we could rebuild society, but it would be different. Nothing that I would recognized.

“You okay,” Jim asked. He touched my shoulder. In my old world, I would have thought he was hitting on me.

“Yeah,” I looked at the woman. “My name is David John Carr, everyone calls me Dave. My wife—my ex-wife is Angela Carr—I mean Henderson. I don’t know if she’s alive or dead. I have a daughter Barbara Ann Carr. She was alive last June and heading north to Vermont. We live in a store. We’ve lost a number of people. Mindy, Eli, Abe—“

I couldn’t go on.

“Don’t worry, Dave,” Jim said, “I’ll take care of it.” He looked at Felicia. “Is there any place they can go to relax? I have notes on all our people alive and dead.”

“There’s a kitchen,” Felicia said, deadpan. “Why don’t you all go relax there and have some coffee? I can talk to Jim about your people.”

The idea of coffee sounded heavenly. Back at CostKing, we brewed by pouring hot water into a coffee filter.

             
When we got in the kitchen, they had a real coffee machine, next to it was a glass pitcher filled with what looked like milk. This place must have electricity. Hernandez followed us, I guess to make sure we didn’t steal anything.

             
“You have electricity?” I asked.

             
“Yep, a couple of generators and two biodiesel ones. We are hoping to do more with solar power and maybe wind. What about you?”

             
“We live mostly without electricity,” Annemarie explained. “We have a generator and some solar panels. It’s not much but it helps us get by.”

             
“I can give you some tips.”

Normally I would be boasting about my electrical accomplishments and get excited over real milk in my coffee instead of condensed, powdered or creamer. I felt dejected like I was hit with a ton of bricks. My world was never coming back.

“Jim’s good at taking notes,” I said. “I’ll get him.”

I grabbed my coffee and went back to Jim.

Hernandez didn’t stop me.

When I got back to the room, I was met with a peculiar sight. Jim held a vial of blood and handed it to Felicia.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Jim looked surprised. He dropped the vial on the table but it didn’t break. Felicia picked it up. I moved closer to the desk and put my cup down on it to get a closer look at the vial.

“Jim, I asked a question.”

“Nothing,” he said and sweet Jim’s tone was defensive.

“That’s not nothing, whose blood is that?” I raised my voice a little.

“It’s a private matter.”

“Oh shit, Jim, do you have AIDS?”

Jim looked pissed off, a rarity for him. “Jesus, Dave, your ignorance is showing.”

“What’s going on here?” I heard Tanya’s voice. I turned around. The others came back into the living room followed by Hernandez.

“Jim was giving some kind of blood vial to the county lady.”

“It’s nothing,” Jim said and he was still defensive. The woman didn’t say anything. She sat there with no expression on her face.

“Didn’t look like nothing,” Tanya said. “Are you sick—“

“I’m not sick,” he said moving from defensive to peeved but I didn’t care. I wanted to know what was going on. “This isn’t my blood.”

“Then whose is it?”

“Jim—“ Tanya said, her voice stern. “Tell us, now.”

“It’s Rachel’s,” he admitted.

“Is she sick?” I asked.

Jim didn’t respond. He did not look happy, in fact he looked afraid.

“What’s wrong with Rachel?” Tanya asked, her voice got louder. “What the fuck is wrong with her, Jim?”