In the Lone and Level Sands (40 page)

Max went to the next room. He realized the
gunfire was still going on some infinite space away, and he was
still screaming, stopping only to spit.

He opened the door. A zombie a few feet away
turned and rushed toward him. Max didn’t have time to aim, so he
slammed the door shut, the zombie halfway through. He held on to
the handle, the zombie pinned between the wood and the metal frame,
its face squashed into a twisted scowl. It reached for Max, who
shot it in the face. It fell to the ground. Max entered the room
and saw two more zombies. He shot one as it drew near. The blood
splattered on Max’s face, and he licked his lips to clear his
mouth. He fired several shots. Besides one that hit the zombie’s
shoulder, all missed. Max ran out of ammo.

He stepped out of the room to reload, but
when he tried to close the door, it stopped hard, still open. Max
looked down and saw the body of the zombie from before keeping the
door open, and then it was too late.

The other zombie pounced Max, pinning him to
the ground, and knocking the gun from his hand. The gunfire from
downstairs had stopped, but Max was still screaming. He gripped the
zombie’s neck, trying to keep its teeth away. Its hands were
completely free, and they clawed and tore at Max’s clothes and
sides and arms, scratching him and tearing into his clothes.

Max turned and saw his gun, just out of
reach. It was like a scene from a movie, only this was real. There
would be no damn-near-magic sudden reach for the gun, no chance to
aim, no nick-of-time shooting the zombie before that little bite
that would ruin him forever. And the thing was empty, so it
wouldn’t matter anyway.

The zombie roared and reached for Max’s
face. It dug its fingers into the skin on his forehead and tore
downward. Max’s screams changed from an angry, frustrated tone to
one of sheer pain. He fought with all his might the urge to let go
of the zombie’s throat and reach for his wound, stop the hand from
tearing his skin. The zombie’s nails scraped down his face, across
his left eye, down his cheek, finally crossing his neck and
scratching lighter and lighter as the zombie had trouble reaching
past Max’s extended arm.

The zombie roared and reached again, but
before it could go for another round, its head exploded. Blood and
bits of skull landed all over Max. He stopped screaming, nearly
choking on the stuff landing in his throat. He felt a piece of bone
in his teeth. He turned over, the zombie’s body still on him, and
spat as hard as he could. He spat and spat, and then coughed. It
took Ortiz only a few seconds to get from the stairs to where Max
was, and by then Max was throwing up.

Max started kicking and thrashing to get the
zombie’s body off of him. Blood was still pouring onto him from the
opened neck of the headless zombie, and he gagged and nearly threw
up again. Ortiz helped get the zombie off, and Max turned over onto
his hands and knees. The blood that was streaming down the side of
his head dripped heartily onto the shiny linoleum floor.

“Mother fuck,” Ortiz shouted. “Are you
okay?”

Max was crying. Ortiz could see tears
running off of his nose and mixing with the blood on the floor.

“Are you okay, Max? Were you bitten?”

“No!” Max said. Ortiz recoiled, somewhat
unsure of which question that was meant to answer.

“I’m so sorry, Max. I knew I shouldn’t have
left you alone. Ah, fuck!”

Max sat up onto his knees.

“I tried to get up here as soon as I heard
you scream, but I got tied up. Shit, I’m sorry.”

Max stared at the floor.

“Max.”

Max turned to him. Ortiz could see the
scratch full-on, then. It looked deep. Max’s left eye was filling
with blood, and he was blinking furiously in attempt to clear
it.

“Shit, Max, can you see?”

“Yeah,” Max said. He sighed. “Yeah, I can
see. It’s hard, right now. But I can see.”

Ortiz reached for his med pack, got out some
iodine and gauze, and poured the liquid onto the pad.

“Is this going to sting?” Max asked.

“Like a motherfucker,” Ortiz said. He
pressed the pad against Max’s face as hard as he could, holding
Max’s head still with his free hand. Max screamed, but after a
second, gave in to the pain. Ortiz held the pad there while he
unraveled some gauze wrap. He shifted to get a better hold on the
pad and keep applying pressure, then wrapped the gauze around Max’s
head. Max held still, for the most part. Tears were welling up in
his right eye. Ortiz finished up, then let go of Max’s head. He sat
back to see if the bandage would hold. As soon as both realized the
gauze wasn’t going anywhere, Max lurched forward and embraced
Ortiz. He began crying uncontrollably, pressing his head into
Ortiz’s chest. His sobs were muffled by Ortiz’s jacket.

Ortiz put his arms around Max’s head and
gently rocked him back and forth.

41

In the Office

The two couches in Art’s office suite had
been pushed together, perpendicular to the windows. Outside, the
blanket flowed softly in the breeze. Nothing had flown overhead
since it was put out there, and to keep their minds off of this
fact, the group was playing charades.

Stephanie stood in front of the couches. She
slid her right foot backward across the floor a couple of times. As
she did this, she had both hands mounted on the sides of her head.
Each index finger stuck up from a fist and curved inward.

“The Bulls!” Jason said.

“That’s right,” Stephanie said. “You’re up,
Jase!” She moved past him to sit down and made herself comfortable,
eager to see what Jason would do. Before he got to his spot, he
grabbed a slip of paper from a small wastebasket they were using as
a container. He opened up the slip and grinned. He put the paper in
his pocket and cranked an imaginary film reel.

“It’s a movie, I guess,” Daisy said. Jason
looked at her and nodded. “Kinda looks like you’re rolling down a
window or something.”

“How many words are there?” Stephanie asked.
She leaned back on the couch and undid her ponytail. Jason held up
five fingers, made sure his team saw it, then put all down but
one.

“First word,” Daisy said. Jason raised his
hand to his ear. He tugged on the lobe gently.

“Sounds like,” Stephanie said. Jason nodded,
and then opened his mouth wide. He clamped down, baring his pearly
whites like a wild animal.

“Fight!” Daisy said.

“Night?” Stephanie said. Jason’s grin grew
bigger, and he gave a thumbs-up. Then, he put two fingers up for
the second word. With his index finger and his thumb close
together, he pinched the air.

“Small word?” Daisy said. Jason nodded.
Stephanie and Daisy shot out small words until the right one came
out: “Of”. Jason did the same for the third word, and at that
point, the cat was out of the bag.

“Night of the Living Dead!” Daisy nearly
spat her gum out when shouting her answer. “That one was too
easy.”

“I
love
that movie,” Stephanie said,
chuckling. “It’s what got me into the genre. I’ve watched my fair
share of zombie movies.”

“Same here,” Jason said. “That one’s not my
favorite though.”

“I don’t like the older movies as much,”
Daisy said. “I like the remakes better.”

“I watch all kinds.”

“What about B-movies?” Daisy asked.

Jason shrugged. “If it has plenty of gore
and violence, I don’t care if it’s a big production or a little
one. Acting better be decent though, or the story’ll fall
apart.”

Evan cleared his throat. “I don’t really
care for the slow zombies so much,” he said. “I think there’s
something to be said about a group of mad crazies running full
speed at you. That’s pretty scary.”

“What about in our situation?” Jason said.
“Do you want those numbskulls out there to be fast or slow?”

“Is that a serious question?”

“Yeah. Fast or slow?”

“Slow, of course.”

“Well, there you go.” Jason laughed.

“I’m not m-much for horror,” Eugene said,
“but I did enjoy Shaun of the D-dead. Simon Pegg is a good actor,
in my opinion.”

“Why are we talking about this now, of all
times?” Cynthia said. She laughed.

“I guess life imitates art after all,” Evan
said. His smile disappeared. “So many people… that first day, so
many people didn’t make it. I’m glad we did.”

“We’re all lucky to be breathing, I’d
say.”

“Yeah,” Daisy said, “we could be on the
move, constantly chased by those things.”

“We’re as safe as we can be at the moment,”
Stephanie said. “We can thank God for that.”

Mal fidgeted between Evan and Cynthia.

“Are you okay, Mallorie?” Cynthia asked. She
slinked an arm around Mal’s shoulders and smiled at her.

“I’m getting hungry,” Mal said. “Can we have
sandwiches, please?”

“I like the kid’s thinking,” Jason said.
“Let’s eat!” He stood up with a grin, and everyone followed him to
the kitchen.

“How much ham is there?” Stephanie asked as
she used a plastic knife to smear mayonnaise from a packet across a
piece of bread.

“It looks like we have plenty,” Evan said.
“Three or four packages, I’d say.”

Everyone was happy to make their food and
bring it back to the couches, which they moved back to their
original positions, facing one another. They ate in silence, which
was nice, but it wasn’t meant to last.

Evan caught a glimpse of movement through
the narrow glass window to the left of the blockade they’d set up.
“Did any of you see that?” He asked.

“What? What is it?” Cynthia said. She leaned
forward, and so did the others.

Mal set her sandwich on the table separating
the couches and looked toward the door. “Who’s there?” she
said.

“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy was just seeing
things.”

“I wasn’t ‘just seeing things’. There was a
person wandering out there.”

“It was probably one of them,” Jason
said.

“No, I really don’t think so. It was moving
too much like a person, like it was looking for something.” Evan
took the last bite of his sandwich as he stood up and moved toward
the door.

“Evan, don’t go out—” Stephanie said.

“I’m not. I’m just looking.”

“Daddy, those people can’t get in, can
they?”

“Of course not, Mal.” Evan peered through
the window and saw a woman exit one of the offices. She looked
frightened, and then he recognized her as Vanessa, the bride they’d
met in the kitchen the day before.

“Hey! It’s the lady from yesterday!
Vanessa.”

“That crazy bitch is still alive?” Daisy
said, and then smacked her gum.

Vanessa caught a glimpse of Evan peering out
through the window. She smiled a little, taking a few hesitant
steps toward the corner office.

“What are we going to do?” Cynthia
asked.

“We’re going to let her in.”

“What if she’s been bitten?” Stephanie
said.

“Yeah, I’m with Steph on this,” Jason said.
“I don’t think we should let her in here.”

“Think about it, guys,” Evan said. “It’s
been almost a day. It doesn’t take that long to change.”

“What if she was just recently b-bitten?”
Eugene said. Jason pointed at Eugene, wide-eyed, and then at Evan,
as if Eugene had just come up with the greatest idea known to
man.

“He’s got ya there, Evan!”

“Stop with the ‘what if’s. We need to help
her, if she turns out to be bitten, we’ll deal with it. I think we
can handle one damn zombie.” Silence fell among the group, and Evan
moved the barricade enough to open the door for Vanessa.

“Hey!” Vanessa said. “I’ve been looking for
you guys for hours.” She held a crowbar, which was
well-bloodied.

“Are you all right? Have you been bitten at
all?”

“No.”

“Good.” Evan smiled and let Vanessa into the
office. He closed the door behind her and moved the blockade back
into place. Vanessa set the crowbar down on the desk in front of
the door.

“Hello, everyone,” she said, waving
awkwardly at the group. It felt to her like being at an AA meeting.
“I’m Vanessa Galvaster.”

Everyone stared back at her, wary of her
being there, but politely introduced themselves. They kept an eye
on her over the next hour, during which Vanessa got herself cleaned
up and ate some of their food. When the fear that she’d been bitten
passed, everyone relaxed and welcomed Vanessa as the newest
addition to their little band of survivors.

42

In the Abandoned Building

Zoe’s assumptions were correct: The building
had been under construction, and was now completely empty. It also
had no electricity.

Zoe made her way up the stairs, hoping for
some sort of suitable overnight shelter. Some of the rooms on the
lower floors were finished, but Zoe didn’t feel safe sleeping that
close to the ground. Most of the rooms in the rest of the building
were incomplete, mere skeletons made from metal rebars and concrete
walls. In some places, she could see right through to the outside
world.

As she climbed higher, some of the rooms
appeared more complete than others. Finally, near the top floor,
Zoe found a room that had four walls. There was no door installed,
and there was no carpet. The ground was littered with sawdust and
flecks of concrete, but the building was warm, and more
importantly, it was shelter.

Zoe wished she had asked the old woman for a
pillow and blanket, especially after having spent her first night
on the floor of the woods, but the thought hadn’t crossed her mind.
Zoe was kicking herself for it now. She decided she could use her
bag as a pillow, and she’d just have to deal with the grime and the
drafts. Being safe was more important than being comfortable.

She set her things down in the walled room,
then searched the rest of the floor for supplies. It was getting
difficult to see as the sun began to set, but Zoe lucked out and
found a relatively clean tarp that would serve as a sleeping
bag.