In the Lone and Level Sands (82 page)

“I killed my family,” Nikki said after a few
blocks of silence. “All of them.”

“So did I,” Max replied. It hurt him more
than he thought it would. “Trying to save them. Instead, I’m the
only one who lived.”

“Then you should know better than anyone,
this isn’t worth it.”

“I thought that, at first. But you just have
to find something that is worth it.”

“What could be?” Nikki stopped walking.
“What the fuck could possibly be worth this?”

Like a soldier, like firing his gun and
hitting his targets without thinking, he moved. Max dropped his gun
as he grabbed her shoulders, drew himself toward her, and kissed
her. Eyes closed, he felt her tense up, almost recoil. Then he felt
her relax.

He let go of her shoulders, moved away
slightly, and opened his eyes. Nikki looked at him, her eyes on
fire.

“If the sun comes up tomorrow,” he said. He
bent down and picked up his gun.

“I-idiot,” Nikki said. “You can’t just—you—”
Max laughed. He didn’t mean to, he knew he shouldn’t have, but her
loss of words had just stricken him that way. “What the fuck is so
funny? Asshole.” They made their way down the road before she spoke
again. “And you’re horrible at it.” Max smiled.

The houses faded, and so did the zombies.
They were on a familiar stretch of road, with little but open field
to either side, and some trees in the distance.

“We’re almost there,” Max said.

“Shut up,” Nikki replied. Her voice was
soft, not at all rude. She seemed almost sad.

Max looked at her for the first time since
he had kissed her. He had never imagined his first kiss would be
with a stranger, or that it would be in a world like this one.

“You’re rude,” he said.

“Look who’s talking.” Nikki’s arms were
tucked against her stomach, her hands rubbing them. Max realized
she was cold; despite it being summer, it was a chilly night, and
Nikki was wearing shorts and a T-shirt.

“Here.” He handed her his jacket after
removing any items he might need.

“I don’t need it,” Nikki said.

Max wrapped it around her anyway. “Yes, you
do.” She put her arms through the sleeves and zipped it up.

Soon Max could see the large wooden walls
they had set up.

“It looks better than I imagined it would,”
Nikki said.

“Wait until you see the inside. The entrance
is actually around the wall a bit.”

They made their way to the gate. A few other
people (most looking dazed, confused, and desperate) were
approaching it from several directions. Johns had set up
floodlights to light the way.

“Greenwald, yo!” Johns said. He was standing
by a minigun, the only one the soldiers had. It was aimed outside
the gate.

“Johns!” Max said, waving his arm high and
wide.

Johns ran to meet him. “How is everything
going? Where are the others? I can still see the flares going
up.”

“They’re still fighting. I was escorting a
civilian here.”

“A civilian?” Nikki said, annoyed.

“My friend,” Max replied. Nikki seemed
surprised.

“Hey there,” Johns said. “Welcome. You’re
safe here.”

“We need gas. The Humvee broke down. I have
to get back to the others.”

“All right. I’ll be back. Watch the minigun,
okay?” Johns hurried through the gate. Max and Nikki got to the
minigun and sat down near it. Despite how worried he was about Lou
and Ortiz, Max felt relaxed for the first time in a long time.

“This is impressive,” Nikki said. Max looked
inside the gate. People were getting food and water, and tending to
their wounds. There were at least a few dozen. Some were checking
others for bites.

“Yeah,” Max said. “It is.”

Johns returned with a small barrel. “It
won’t be fun to carry. You’ll have to strap it to your back. But it
should be enough for a few miles.”

Max put his arms through the straps.
“Thanks.”

“Everything is turning out fine, here. It’s
going great. Very clean, very organized. Haven’t seen any zombies,
either.”

“That’s great!”

“Well, you guys should probably… Max.”

“What?”

“Look at that.” Johns pointed into the sky.
In the distance, amid a few red balls of light, a green flare was
streaking upward.

Max turned back to Johns. “I have to get
back. Now.”

“I’m coming with you,” Johns said.

“No. We need someone to watch—”

“Got it,” Nikki said. She stood up and
inspected the minigun. “I mean, if you trust me.” She smiled at
Max.

“I’ve always trusted you. Can you use
it?”

“It can’t be that hard. Just pull the
trigger, right?”

“For the most part.” Max remembered his time
with it on the back of the Humvee. He thought Nikki might have it
easier; it was on a lower mount now, and she was (he thought) a
little taller than him anyway.

“Let’s go!” Johns said, and then he and Max
were off.

****

Max’s quiet, starlit moments with Nikki felt
like they could’ve happened in another life. He thought of Lou and
Ortiz, and what would happen to all of those people
resting—finally—at the college if something went wrong.

The gas barrel was heavy, and every few
hundred yards, he and Johns traded off carrying it. It was
difficult to run with, but they moved as quickly as they could.

The houses loomed back into view, and so did
the zombies. There were only a few, and the responsibility of
defense fell on whichever of them was not carrying the gas at the
time.

For a moment, Max wondered if he had taken a
wrong turn somewhere. Then, he saw the Humvee. They made their way
to it, and Johns hoisted the barrel off of his back. Max opened the
gas tank, and Johns emptied the barrel into it, then tossed the
barrel into the back.

“Get in,” he said.

Johns drove. The gas gauge didn’t go up
much, but it would be enough.

The flares lit up the sky. The zombies
became more and more numerous. Max didn’t wait as the Humvee sped
into the park; he stood up in his seat and leaned out the window,
firing into the throng of zombies headed up the hill. He looked for
the flashing of rifles, some sign of his friends, but the crowd was
too thick. He couldn’t see much of anything.

Max sat back down as the Humvee plowed
through the zombies. For the first time, it started to give,
slowing as it crunched bones beneath it. Johns backed up a little,
then drove up the hill, this time not slowing at all.

Max continued to fire out through the
window. It almost seemed useless. There were zombies everywhere,
all over the playground. He didn’t see Ortiz or Lou.

“Where are they?”

“I don’t know!” Johns said. “This is some
shit, right here!”

They circled the playground. Max feared that
any of the bodies beneath the wheels could belong to his friends,
to his brothers.

“There!” Johns said. Max saw Lou and Ortiz
at the top of a very large, metal slide. Lou was firing at the
zombies attempting to climb the ladder. The ones climbing the slide
itself made little progress, sliding back down in an almost
humorous fashion.

Ortiz was slumped over, and using only a
pistol.

“Get them!” Max said. Johns drove the Humvee
into the zombies at the base of the ladder. Then, he came to a stop
and drew his assault rifle.

The two soldiers got out. Some of the
zombies were already heading for them, abandoning the cumbersome
slide. Max and Johns opened fire. Zombies fell, but more took their
place.

“Grenade!” Lou shouted from atop the slide.
“Use a grenade!”

“It’s too risky!” Johns said.

“God damn it soldier, that’s an order!”

Johns drew a grenade and pulled the pin. He
threw it, trying to get it as far away from the slide as possible.
It exploded, and a good number of zombies died. A better number
pressed on.

The zombies plowed into the slide at full
force. With a gut-wrenching sound, the metal began to twist, and
the slide fell over. Max thought he heard Lou and Ortiz cry out,
but the sound of crunching metal drowned out everything else.

The slide crushed a few zombies when it
landed, and the cloud of dust and sand it tossed up blocked most of
Max’s vision. The cloud flickered between red and green from the
light of the flares.

Max and Johns kept firing into the oncoming
zombies. Max found himself wondering if it would ever end. The dust
cloud started to clear, and Max and Johns made their way toward the
slide, still firing at the zombies. Johns reloaded.

“We can’t do this!” he said.

“We have to!” Max replied.

They made their way to the crumpled heap.
Max lifted the sheet of metal that had once covered the top of the
slide, and saw Lou’s hairy face. He was wincing, blood poured from
his mouth, stained the cracks between his teeth.

“Lou, are you okay?”

“Fuckin’ dandy!” Lou said. “I can’t move, my
legs are pinned!”

“What about Ortiz?”

“He’s under me!”

Max lifted the metal higher and saw Ortiz’s
top half, Lou was struggling to not crush his legs.

“Ortiz, can you move?” Max asked.

“I think… I can get out,” Ortiz said. He
could hardly breathe.

“Johns, cover me!” Max slung his gun around
to his back, then grabbed Ortiz’s hands. He pulled, and Ortiz cried
in pain, but didn’t move. “Lou, lift up, if you can!”

“Roger!” Lou lifted himself as much as he
could. If it made any difference, Max couldn’t tell. He pulled
again, and Ortiz eventually came sliding out, shouting in pain.
Blood trailed along the sand and grass behind him; a metal bar
protruded from his side. Both of his legs were broken, one of his
shin bones had escaped the skin.

“Fuck!” Johns said. He kept firing. Max
turned Ortiz over on his back. Max could see his pain.

“Ortiz, don’t move.”

“Didn’t plan on it,” Ortiz said. He was
still clutching his pistol. He raised it and continued to fire at
the zombies. He didn’t aim. He didn’t need to, the odds of him
hitting something were pretty good.

“We’ll get you out of here, you’re going to
be okay,” Max said.

“I’m going to die.” Ortiz stared up into the
sky.

“We have to stop the bleeding!” Max shouted.
He raised his gun and fired at the zombies. Their bodies were
piling up around the playground, but more kept coming.

“Here!” Lou said. He slid his assault rifle
as far as he could. Max leaned forward and grabbed it.

“I still have mine!” he said.

“It’s for me,” Ortiz said. Max thought he
must be crazy, but Ortiz took it. He groaned as he struggled to sit
up. Max helped him, propped him up against his body. The two joined
Johns in firing into the crowd. The zombies drew closer and closer.
Lou struggled to escape the wreckage of the slide.

“Max,” Ortiz said. Max could barely hear him
over the guns and the screaming and groaning of the oncoming
horde.

“Don’t talk, just shoot!”

“Max… Just get out of here. This isn’t… This
death isn’t for you. You’re too young for this.” His gun clicked.
Max gave his own rifle to Ortiz, took Ortiz’s, reloaded, and
continued to fire.

“I’m not leaving you guys here,” Max
said.

“You’re no soldier, Max.”

“The hell I’m not.”

Lou had freed his top half, and was
struggling to get the metal off of him. Ortiz ran out of ammo. Max
switched guns again, and reloaded.

A zombie dove for Johns. Lou shot it, and it
fell to the ground. Lou crawled the rest of the way out and fell
next to Johns. He rolled over, then sat up and went on shooting at
the zombies with his pistol.

“Do we have any flares?” Max said. Lou threw
a flare to him. Max lit it and pointed it toward the zombies. It
fired with a loud shriek, right past the group.

“What the hell, Max?” Lou said. Then he saw
what Max had done.

The flare flew into the box of fireworks
that the soldiers had placed on the playground. The box lit on
fire.

“Let’s go!” Max yelled. As carefully as he
could, he lifted Ortiz. Ortiz no longer had the energy to cry out.
Max tried not to brush against the leg with the compound fracture,
but it was nearly impossible. Johns helped Lou up, then rushed to
Max’s side and helped with Ortiz. They carried him backwards, and
he fired into the zombies. The four soldiers moved away from the
playground and the zombies, back into the field.

The fireworks went off like an explosion.
The nearby grass caught fire, as did a wooden swing set and a few
of the closest zombies. The others began pushing their way toward
the flames.

The soldiers rushed toward the tree line,
where they fell to the ground, exhausted. Fireworks of all kinds
exploded, huge blasts of colored light and fire blew up all around.
Some fired into the sky.

The bodies started burning. The soldiers had
to get back up and move farther away. They fired less often; most
of the zombies were drawn to the fire, their own burning
brethren.

Ortiz and Lou were laid down as carefully as
possible. The zombies gathered near the fires, and Max and Johns
finished them with ease. After a few minutes, no more entered the
park.

The fireworks continued as Max and Johns
returned to their brothers. Lou was smoking a cigarette. Ortiz lay
on the grass, staring up at the colorful sky.

More exhausted than he thought possible, Max
collapsed to the ground by Ortiz. He rolled onto his back and
watched the fireworks display with his family. Flowers of colored
fire lit the night.
Happy Independence Day.

“We have to… Tourniquet… Blood,” Ortiz said.
Max sat back up. Johns joined him at Ortiz’s side.

“Let’s try to set it,” Max said. He felt
stupid for getting distracted from Ortiz’s condition.

“Roger,” Johns said.

The last of the fireworks went off, and the
flares were dying out. The sky and the world remained lit by a
solitary red flare.