In the Lone and Level Sands (88 page)

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve
just lost my husband, and I don’t really feel like going into that.
Will you please let me be, Edward?”

“I see.” Edward’s smile faded. “It is a
terrible world we live in, that our loved ones have to die. Some
say it’s part of life. Some say the fittest survive. But I say, it
is unfair.” Edward looked down for a second, then back into
Charlotte’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter in the end, you know.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?”
Charlotte said.

“All of this,” Edward said, gesturing
broadly with his arms, “is an illusion. It is a dream, my dear
Charlotte.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Do you ever have dreams where it gets so
frightening and then, right when you think the worst is upon you,
poof! You wake up. This is where we are. All we can do is enjoy our
time here before the dreamer wakes. Which reminds me. Come, there’s
someone I want you to meet.”

Charlotte took a step backward. “Look, it’s
been fun, but I really need to get back to my room. I’m tired, and
my father’s probably wondering where I am.”

“I wish you’d reconsider,” Edward said. “She
craves
the opportunity to make your acquaintance, I’m
sure.”

“Tomorrow would be better.”

Al left the motel room, carrying his
handgun. Charlotte turned from Edward when she heard the door.
Edward took a step forward, grabbed her arm, and yanked her toward
him.

“Wha—Let go of me! Let go!” Charlotte
pulled, but Edward wrapped his other arm around her front. She
screamed as he pulled out a knife. Al’s eyes widened, and he bolted
forward, but stopped when Edward pressed the flat of the blade
against Charlotte’s neck.

“You again?” Al said. “What the hell are you
doing? Let her go!”

Edward laughed. “Me again, yes. And contrary
to what you may be thinking, I’m not following you. It’s just
happenstance. Or is it? A mystery for the ages, what’s left of
them.”

“Please, don’t,” Charlotte said. Edward
gently turned the knife. The sharp edge dug into her flesh.

“Let her go!” Al said. He raised his
gun.

“Ah, ah, ah! If you shoot me, I might slip,
and I just might take this one with me.”

“What do you even want her for?”

“Desiree is hungry. How do you think I keep
her alive? Tea and cakes?”

Al glared at Edward, who flashed a cool
grin. Charlotte was struggling to get away. “For God’s sake, let
her go!”

“Bringing God into it, I see. Fair enough.
If you answer correctly for me one little question, I’ll free her.
If not, then, well, I think you know what will happen.”

“This isn’t a game! Just let her go!”

A small drop of blood rolled down
Charlotte’s neck. She winced.

Al sighed and lowered his gun. “What’s the
question?”

“It’s something that has puzzled me for many
years. Maybe you will be the one who has the answer.”

“Damn it, what’s the question?” Al was
shaking.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

“What?” Al said.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

“There is no answer! It makes no fucking
sense!”

“It’s tricky, isn’t it?” Edward said. “But,
still, there is an answer. Every question has an answer. Does it
not? Oh well.” He started to drag Charlotte toward his motel
room.

“Wait!” Al said. He laughed. “You’re right.
It’s obvious. I’ve known the answer my entire life.”

“Really?” Edward said. His eyes lit up, and
his grip on Charlotte loosened. “Out with it, then!”

“Because,” Al said. “They’re both black,
like my gun,” which he raised and fired. The bullet hit Edward in
the shoulder. Edward screamed as the bone shattered, and he no
longer had the strength to hold the knife. Charlotte shoved her
elbow into him as hard as she could and pulled away. She rushed to
her father. Al hugged her and they both looked at Edward, who began
laughing.

“You’re very clever, you slithy one,
you.”

“You can go straight to hell.” Al turned
back to Charlotte. “Let’s get this looked at.” He pointed to the
blood trickling from her neck. It took only a minute in the
bathroom to wash the wound, but when Al had made sure Charlotte was
fine and then poked his head outside, Edward was gone. There was
blood on the ground, but no sign of the red car.

****

Everyone was up by 1:30 in the afternoon.
There was running water, so everyone showered, even though they had
to change back into their dirty clothes. When they were done they
gathered their things.

Charlotte left her room with Al close behind
her. Fred had Angus on the leash just outside their door. Charlotte
looked down the way, almost expecting Edward to be there. She
sighed.

“What are you looking for?” Fred asked.

“It’s nothing.”

“I noticed that little red car is gone.”

“Just someone passing through,” Al said. He
exchanged glances with Charlotte.

“Is that so?” Fred said. “How many bullets
does it take for someone to ‘just pass through’? I only heard the
one.”

Al grinned. “You got us, I guess. It was
that sick fuck, Edward.”

“He got away, then?”

“Yep.”

“And I assume he took the girl with him? The
room’s empty, anyway.”

“I guess so,” Al said.

“Swell. Well, there’s no real need to alarm
the others. We’ll take a long route to Last Station, make sure he
can’t follow.”

“Thanks, Fred,” Charlotte said.

“Sure.” Angus squatted in a dirt patch and
began his business, and Fred called into his room. “Sara, you about
ready?”

Carah and Richard left their room and shut
the door behind them.

“Just another minute!” Sara said.

“How’d you sleep, Fred?” Richard asked.

“Like I didn’t deserve, Rich!” He chuckled.
“How about yourself?”

“Me too. Both of us, actually. Carah didn’t
even want to get up.” He laughed and Carah play-hit him on the
shoulder, having read his lips.

Sara left her room and Fred let Angus into
the van. Everyone else took their seats, and then they were
off.

****

Nearly two hours later, the survivors
entered Last Station, Maine. The town looked mostly untouched,
there were almost no zombies or bodies. It looked as if everyone
had evacuated.

They drove down Forester Avenue and saw
nothing. On the next street, a car had crashed into a flagpole in
front of Last Station High School. The flag still flapped in the
wind, high above the ground.

“Cellar Door is just a few miles away,”
Charlotte said. “Just take this road to the corner and turn
right.”

“All right,” Fred said.

“What are you going to do when we get to
this place?” Randy asked.

“I’m not sure, but I’ll know when I get
there. If Cellar Door is as deserted as the town, maybe we can stay
there for a while.”

“It sure looks safe enough around here,”
Sara said.

The turn took them down a hill. On one side
was a cute wooden fence that wrapped around a seemingly endless
front lawn. A horse walking slowly across the grass stopped to
graze.

The road curved a few times, and soon they
reached a large building. It looked at least a half-century old,
with vines growing around the windows and strong trees dotting the
hills around it.

A weeping willow stood in the front lawn.
Below it was a bench. Charlotte couldn’t see from the van, but she
and Ben had carved their initials into it, and the memory brought
tears to her eyes.

“Are you sure you want to be here?” Al
asked.

Charlotte nodded and took her seatbelt off,
then opened the door. She savored the crunching sound her feet made
on the little white rocks of the gravel drive. Charlotte smiled,
even as her eyes teared up.

Everyone got out. Fred led Angus on the
leash, worried he’d run off and get lost. Fred also had his shotgun
ready, even though there didn’t seem to be any immediate
threat.

“Seems odd that there aren’t any zombies up
here,” he said.

It’s so beautiful,
Carah signed to
Richard.

It sure is
.

“It’s nice, for a change,” Sara said. “With
this place the way it is, you’d think everything had returned to
normal.”

“Yeah,” Al said. “Wouldn’t that be
nice?”

****

Everyone had gone inside, but Charlotte was
sitting on the old wooden bench with Al’s gun. She needed time
alone with her thoughts. The weeping boughs of the willow swayed
gently in the wind around her. The sun was shining, little
fragments making it through the tree’s leaves. Charlotte
sighed.

I came here looking for his memory, looking
for him, when he was right in front of me. How selfish was I?

Charlotte looked over Cellar Door’s grounds.
The grass waved at her, long and needing a trim. She began to
cry.

This is my punishment. He lost his memory, I
lost him, and here I am, lost myself, trapped with my own
memories.

Charlotte looked up at the sky, tears
rolling down her cheeks
.
Eventually she walked back to the
door, gun in hand, and rejoined her family. They welcomed her
happily. It was time for lunch.

****

“Charlotte?” Ben said. He seemed different.
It took Charlotte some time to notice he had aged significantly. He
looked older than Fred. His wrinkles parted when he smiled.

“What, Ben?”

Charlotte looked at her hands as Ben took
them in his. They were just as wrinkled. She was elderly, just like
him. She smiled back.

“Do you know how much I love you?”

Charlotte smiled bigger. “How much?”

“More than anything in the world.”

Charlotte laughed a little. She felt a few
tears in her eyes. “I love you too, Ben.”

They sat in each other’s company for a
little while, listening to the cool breeze blowing through their
white hair, and the slight creak of the porch swing. They were at
their home in Ashton.

Ben turned to Charlotte. “So, we’ve grown
old together,” he said.

“Yeah,” Charlotte said.

“Was it all it was cracked up to be?” His
old, blue eyes gleamed in the sunshine.

“Everything I had imagined, and more.”

Charlotte sighed, filled with happiness. She
gazed across their yard. Past the neatly trimmed grass and the
sidewalk was the road. About halfway across, the pavement ended in
a rough edge. The drop would be infinite. Charlotte knew this
without seeing it, she had no idea how, but she was fine with
it.

Countless minutes went by.

“I love you, Charlotte Hopper.”

“I love you, Ben Hopper.”

More eons went by. Then Charlotte said what
had been on her mind the entire time.

“This is a dream, isn’t it?”

Ben looked at her and smiled. “If it is, I
guess we’ll just have to enjoy it, until the dreamer wakes.”

~ ~ ~ ~

72

In the Safe Zone

Even when Max was awake, it felt like he was
dreaming. He had vague memories of stumbling out of the Humvee,
being greeted by Nikki, who couldn’t hide her happiness at his
return, or her sadness upon meeting his eyes. He remembered toiling
long into the morning to give Ortiz a burial accompanied by a
twenty-one gun salute, with the help of a few of the refugees.
Muddy and sweaty and covered in blood, he had then limped to one of
the cots to lie down. He remembered waking a few times, and usually
saw Nikki by his cot, talking to him or getting him water or just
being there.

A few days passed and Max mostly slept
through them. He slept through the daily radio broadcasts, through
the rules of the community being established, through the refugees
helping to reinforce the walls, through the other soldiers
continuing their never-ending work.

It was July 8
^th
when Max finally
got out of his cot. He joined the commotion in the mess hall. Nikki
brought him a plate of food.

“I thought you’d never get up,” she said.
“You need to eat, you idiot. You’ll starve.” Even her insults had
become music to Max’s ears.

“I feel like I could still sleep,” he
said.

“You’re not leaving the rest of us to do all
of the work, you lazy bum.” Nikki ate, but Max only picked at his
food.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be more helpful from now
on. I promise.”

Lou appeared, and sat next to Max. “I hope
I’m not interrupting anything. Max, how are you?”

“Awful.” Max took a bite of his food.

“The radio broadcasts every day,” Lou said.
“We have a plan.”

Max was getting sick of plans. Still, he
knew he had work to do. “What’s up?”

“See, there’s this local station, and it
broadcasts recordings from an AM station, and the local guy adds
his own messages. This local guy, we want to find him. We can ask
him to get the word out about this place. The more people who show
up, the more help we have.”

“Sounds good,” Max said. He took another
bite.

“It gets better. See, the AM station, it can
broadcast a lot farther. We can bring people here from all over the
country, get them to safety. We can also get the word out, get out
instructions. People could build safe zones like this one all over
America.”

Max put his fork down and stared into
nothing.

“We just have to find this local guy and ask
him where the other station is broadcasting from. Then one of us
will head out there.”

Max thought of his cot. It wasn’t
comfortable, but it seemed like a great place to be, compared to
the thought of hunting down two radio DJs across the country.

He looked up at Nikki. She smiled. Max
smiled back. “All right,” he said. “When do we head out?”

****

“Phones still don’t work,” Johns said. “They
turn on, but there’s no service. I didn’t expect there to be, but
it still complicates things.”