Surviving Beyond the Zombie Apocalypse (17 page)

     The street remained deserted except for the numerous bundles of clothes. I counted them in my head and got to nineteen before Kat interrupted my train of thought.

     “So what if they could put that stuff in a plane or something and spray it over the city?”

     I pictured an old biplane crop-duster flying low over all the streets. “Well, I guess so. I mean, I don’t see why not.”

     Taylor had seemed a bit dubious since hearing about the effects of the poison on the shells. “So if this poison works as well as you say in wrecking these things, how come we’re not gonna take it to the cops or somebody?”

     “Normally, I would agree with you completely. Taking it to the authorities would be the thing to do,” I paused, trying to choose my words carefully. “But these are definitely not normal times. Before I let anyone know about it, I want to make sure that we have a clear exit strategy. The last thing I want to do is turn this poison over to someone just to have them abandon us.”

     Kat and Taylor nodded at my answer. Christina stared at me a moment before simply mimicking Taylor’s movement.

     “I may or may not be paranoid, but I have had enough dealings with people who are supposedly in charge to be comfortable with putting my trust in them.”

    My mind immediately took me back to the tent outside the airport and the soldiers inside. I could still feel the pain in my shoulder from being forced to the ground.

     My memory was interrupted by Kat. “That sounds like being smart, not paranoid.”

     “So without the campervan, how are we gonna get to this place?” Taylor asked.

     “Well, we’re going to take the truck, but I need your special skills here.” I looked at him and smiled. “You see, we can take the truck for now, but later we’re going to need another car.”

     Taylor smiled back and got into the cab of the truck. He flashed me an expression of sadness, and I instantly knew that he was thinking of Detective Lawrence.

     I considered putting my hand on his shoulder in some sort of fatherly gesture, but that seemed so out of character for me, so I simply said, “I’m sure he would be proud of you, and I know that he would want you to help in any way you could.”

     Taylor immediately brightened up and tried to act as though he had no concern about Lawrence’s opinion. “We’ve got more important things to do than worry about what some grouchy old cop would think, right?”

     “Right,” I answered with as much encouragement as I could muster.

     A few seconds later, we saw the crowd of shells heading toward us from up the street.    

     “C’mon!” I lifted Christina and threw her into the cab next to a few boxes of poison.

     Taylor scrambled in after her and Kat next. It was a tight fit, and, just as they slid over to make enough room for me, a shell grabbed me from behind. Kat or Christina, or both, screamed. Not at all expecting to be grabbed, I was easily spun around to face the shell.

     The shell of a teenage boy with long stringy blond hair and a small tuft of hair under his lower lip held me. “Mellow out, man,” the shell said in a slow drawl. For a split second, I believed that I had been mistaken about the situation. This was only a kid looking for help. Then I saw the blood still oozing from his left ear and the saliva dribbling from his mouth.

     I leaned back into the truck and kicked out with both legs. Luckily, the kick hit the shell right in the chest and forced him backward into the oncoming shells. It was not much but enough to slow them down and allow me time to get in the truck. Another shell tried to grab me, but the truck lunged forward before it could, leaving the shells behind.

     Everyone stayed quiet for a moment, before Christina let out a wail. Taylor held her tightly and tried to comfort her. The whole cab seemed to shake with her sobs.

     “Well, that was fun,” Kat said, trying to lighten the mood. It did not work.

     I looked at her and smiled weakly. “This might be a bad question, but does anyone have any idea exactly how to get to the Tiburon Ferry Terminal?”

     My question brought only silence. I felt pretty foolish, but I honestly did not know how to get to the ferry. It was one of those places that tourists and commuters visited. Since I didn’t fall into either of those categories, I had never had any reason to go there.

     “Well, I can get us to Tiburon and after that look for it,” I answered my own question. “I mean, it can’t be that hard to find, right?”

     Again, there was only silence.

     Thankfully, Christina broke it. “Right.”

     “So do you know where we are now?” Kat asked.

     “We’re in a truck!” Christina giggled.

     “Well, it seems like someone is back to normal,” Taylor commented, tickling the little girl on his lap.

     It was amazing how quickly children bounced back from the most disturbing events. I then realized that perhaps the damage from seeing the horrible sights was hidden deeply inside. It might take years for her to truly recover or bounce back from the situation she had experienced. I didn’t want to consider the idea that she might never recover. I tried not to get lost in the maze of thoughts and images that swept into my mind as I thought about the future the little girl might encounter.

     “Look over there!” Kat called out, pointing down a street to the right. As we passed, I caught a glimpse of a green street sign. “It’s the sign for Highway 101.”

     “Okay, I’ll swing back around.”

     We were already well past the street, and I didn’t want to take the time to make a U-turn. Although there were no shells in sight, I had seen how fast they swarmed out of nowhere and did not want to be turning around and have them descend on the truck.

     Kat seemed to have read my mind. “Any of these other streets to the right should take us there.”

     Taylor and Christina seemed to once again have escaped into the place of safety that they shared. They played some I Spy type of game that I didn’t understand but simply knew that it made them both happy.

     I took the next street to the right too sharply and hit the curb. The truck bounced roughly before finding its way back to the street.

     “Hey!” came the general response from the others.

     “Sorry, I guess I’ll have to forget about a career as a truck driver.”

     “And as a comedian,” Taylor added.

      The street took us to the right and right to the freeway entrance.

     Everyone was quiet as we made our way onto the freeway and north to the Golden Gate Bridge.

      Once again, the sense of foreboding swept over me, and I pictured being stuck on the bridge with no path to safety as a mass of shells swept over the truck. 

     We sped through the empty tollgates and onto the bridge. It appeared that nothing had changed since the last time I had been on the bridge. However, I took the time to notice the numerous bundles of clothing scattered all over the span. 

     “So once we get to the Tiburon ferry, what happens next?” Kat asked quietly.

     Something in her voice made me wonder what she was thinking. “We get on that ship to Alaska or wherever as long as it’s away from here. Somewhere safer, I hope,” I answered matter-of-factly.

     “What about this poison? If it’s really something important, you hafta show it to people, right?” She asked with a hint of impatience. “So that means when you say we get on that ship it means everyone but you gets on that ship.”

      I no longer had to wonder about what Kat had been thinking. “I’m not leaving you guys.” I leaned closer to her and repeated quietly, “I’m not leaving you.”

      I turned back to watch the bridge in front of us. An instant later, Kat leaned over and kissed my cheek. The kiss did not go unnoticed by the other two passengers.

     Christina began singing, “Two little lovers sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes—”

     The song got interrupted by the sight of an older woman in an evening gown running in front of the truck. Her snarling face and the rest of her disappeared with a thud underneath the front bumper.

     No one said anything for a few minutes as we got off the bridge and headed north on Highway 101.

     “So do you believe we’re really gonna find anybody at this place?” Taylor asked, breaking the awkward silence.

      I started to answer, but Kat jumped in. “We might, and that’s good enough reason to check it out, right?” She paused for a response but got none. “Anyway, if there’s nothing there, we keep looking. Got to be some help somewhere, right?” This time she dug her fingernails into my leg to ensure a response.

     “Right!” I answered. “It’s not like we’ve got anything else to do, right?” I looked at Kat.

     “Right!” she responded.

     “After a second, Christina giggled. “Right!”

     It took some nudging by the little girl before Taylor muttered, “Right.”

     Fortunately, we didn’t have to search too hard for the ferry terminal. After heading north on the freeway for about fifteen minutes, I took the exit for Tiburon. A sign pointing to the Tiburon Ferry Terminal awaited us.

     Christina squealed with joy as she spotted the sign. “There it is!”

     “Wow, you’re a good reader,” Kat complimented her.

     “I’m a peacock in my reading group,” she smiled at the fact. “That means I’m the best reader.” A moment later, she slumped into Taylor’s chest as the realization that her school life was over.

     “Maybe you can read a book to me some time,” Kat said in an effort to cheer up the little girl, who didn’t reply.

     “Just think, we’re gonna be on a boat pretty soon,” Taylor said with forced enthusiasm. “Have you ever been on a boat?”

     Christina’s head popped up from his chest. “Of course, I’ve been on a boat, silly. Everyone’s been on a boat!”

     Taylor stuck his lower lip out in feigned emotion. “Everyone but me,” he said and sniffled.

    “It’s okay,” Christina comforted. “I will help you so you don’t get scared.”

     For about the millionth time since I had come across the boy and girl, I was struck by how lucky they were to have each other.

     “Can you swim, Taylor?” Kat asked.

     “A little. My uncle took me to this lake one time and taught me how to swim. That was—”

     Christina obviously tried to stay quiet but wasn’t able to contain herself and blurted out, “I was a dolphin at my swimming school! That means…”

     “That means, you were the best swimmer,” Taylor finished her sentence with exaggerated pouting.

     “Right! How did you know?” Christina giggled. “Don’t worry, I can teach you.” She patted him on the shoulder.

     I turned the truck into the parking lot of the ferry terminal. The parking lot was surprisingly full. At least it surprised me at first. After thinking about it, the fact that the lot would be full made complete sense. Most of the cars left here probably belonged to commuters who took the ferry to jobs in the city. When everything turned to shit, they never made it back. Hopefully, many of the cars also belonged to those who had left the vehicles here before taking a ferry to some safe place.

     I drove around the parking lot looking for a space large enough to park the truck. Finally, I decided to simply park it near the entrance to the terminal.

     “I doubt if anyone is going to give you a ticket for blocking other cars,” Kat commented.

     As soon as the truck stopped, Taylor opened his door to get out.

     “Hold on,” I told him. “We need to sit and watch for a minute.”

     Taylor closed the door quietly, and we waited. However, we did not wait for long.

     After about thirty seconds, a group of five people dressed in camouflage military uniforms emerged from the door of the terminal building about seventy-five yards away. They carried automatic weapons, and one of them had what looked like a Geiger counter, one of those small cases with a line to a handheld tool for reading whatever was close.

     “Looks like we have a welcoming committee,” I commented to myself.

     “I don’t know what’s worse, the shells or guys with guns,” Kat said.

     “I guess we’re about to find out,” I answered.

     The group moved slowly and carefully toward us.

     “Well, it looks like they know what they’re doing anyway,” I said, trying to reassure the others.

     Christina let out sort of a whimper of fear.

     “It’ll be okay,” Taylor said. “Help is here.”

     I hoped that he was right.

Chapter 11

     As they got closer to the truck, the approaching group seemed to move almost instinctively. A heavyset black man in the middle of the group suddenly waved his arm and pointed to the passenger side of the truck. Apparently, he was the leader of the group. In response to his motion, the two figures on his left moved slowly in that direction. The short woman carrying the meter device and a tall husky young man followed him to the side near me.