Waiting to Die ~ A Zombie Novel (26 page)

A tight wind shifts with the
pressure of the open door, wafting up the smell of rot in its wake.

“Damn,” Johnny turns his nose to
the smell. “I’d like to burn every one of them just so I could smell something
different.”

“Yeah,” Greg winces in agreement.

They run through the rear yard,
hopping over the tracks and make their way to a garage and sets of sheds at the
far side of the terminal, kicking up loose gravel as they go.

A heavy layer of dust clings to
the door like the years of waste upon a tomb. Greg wipes away at the grime and
begins the search for the appropriate key. He’s through half of the ring before
he finds one that fits. With a subtle click, the mechanism disengages and the
knob turns freely. He gives Johnny an expression of reserve before he finally
pushes the door open.

A long, penetrating squeak
ensues as the hinges protest in response. A narrow ray of light plays on the
floor, spreading its sheen from an overhead skylight. Flecks of dust dance in
the glow, moving with the current of air through the open door.

“This is it,” Greg says, eyeing
the pickup truck, layered in time and neglect.

“The tank’s full,” Johnny says,
tapping on the reserve in the bed of the truck.

“But the batteries are dead,”
Greg says from the inside of the cab, switching on the ignition.

“How are we going to jump it?”
Johnny asks.

“We might not have to,” he
replies, nodding toward a shelf situated along the entry with four batteries
neatly placed in a row.

“It’s our lucky day,” Johnny
says with a smile.

“Don’t get too confident.” Greg
pulls the hood release and moves up front to open the engine compartment. “They
could be dead too.”

“I’ll stick my tongue on one
side and you stick yours on the other. Then we’ll hold hands and see if we get
a shock,” Johnny says.

Greg lets out a deep laugh and
extends the hood brace, setting it in place. “Yeah that sounds like a plan,” he
laughs again. “Hand me that wrench.”

“Hey, it worked on the farm.”
Johnny kids and throws him the tool.

“You’re a farm boy, huh?”

“Indiana, born and raised,”
Johnny replies.

“I’ll bet you would give your
left arm to be back there right now,” he says, loosening the battery cables
with the wrench.

“What would be the excitement in
that?” he asks. “I’ve got everything I need out here in sunny California.
There’s beautiful weather, sand, beaches, mountains to the east, and enough
zombies…” he stops as he remembers his loss.

“What is it?” Greg asks as he
pops his head up from under the hood.

“I just remembered why I was out
here for so long,” he replies.

“Your girlfriend?” Greg asks.

“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have
stayed if it weren’t for her.”

With nothing to say, no way to
console him, Greg goes back to his work under the hood. The two remain silent
for some time before Greg finally replies, “How did she look the last time you
saw her?”

“Dead,” Johnny replies.

“Okay, did she look like she had
been torn apart?”

“No, actually she looked exactly
the way I remembered her looking when she was alive.”

“Well, there you go,” he says,
heaving the battery out of the engine compartment. “She probably just passed
away and turned without all of the other complications that usually go along
with it. There’s a bit of beauty in that, you know? If I have to turn into one
of those things, I would rather do it without being eaten alive.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Johnny remarks,
“but it still doesn’t make me feel any better about it.”

“Listen, man,” he says, placing
the battery on the floor. “I’m not good with this sort of thing. I have my
opinions on life and death, but I’ve never been good consoling others. One
thing I
do
know is that it’s the little things that that makes life
worth living. You have to remember all the good times you had with her and try
to forget the way it ended up. She loved you, right?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” he confirms.
“I don’t have any doubt.”

“Then she wouldn’t want you to
be miserable,” he says, picking up one of the batteries from the shelf. “I know
shit looks pretty bleak right now, but the world has a way of working itself
out. Call it the circle of life, if you want. But one way or another, the
planet keeps on turning, life continues, and the rivers flow toward the ocean.
No matter how bad things get, you have to remember that eventually, everything
works itself out.”

“I don’t know if this is going
to work itself out, Greg,” Johnny replies.

“Oh, sure it will,” he says,
fastening the cables onto the battery. “Give it time. Somehow, some way, nature
will right itself. I just hope I’m alive to see it.” He closes the hood and
turns to Johnny. “Give her a try.”

Johnny takes a seat inside the
truck and lets out a faint sigh. He touches the key and says a silent prayer.
With a flick of his wrist, he hits the ignition. The engine cranks, turns over,
and lopes for a few seconds before staggering into a low idle. He smiles and
cocks his head out the door. “It worked!”

“See? Everything works itself
out, but sometimes you have to give it a helping hand,” Greg replies. “Okay,
turn it off and let’s go tell Scarlet.”

“Wait a minute, I want to check
the radio,” he says, fiddling with the tuner. Static ensues, crackling out in
waves as he adjusts the knob.

-
Authorities are…
hiss…-

“Shit, I found something,” Johnny
says.

Greg runs around to the driver’s
side and listens.

-
…instructing people to stay
in their homes. Keep doors and windows locked…
-

Greg looks down in
disappointment. “Same shit they were playing back when it all started.” He
shakes his head. “You might as well turn it off and save the battery.”

“But that means the power is
on
somewhere,” Johnny says, “and it’s feeding the broadcast tower.”

“Kid, it’s probably just on a
generator,” he says. “And it’s waiting to run out of fuel,” he says.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, but
do generators have that much fuel?”

“They can,” he replies. “I’ve
also seen some that are solar and wind powered. Trust me it’s nothing to get
your hopes up about. If there was actually someone alive, they would be
broadcasting something new.”

Johnny lowers his head. “At
least we have transportation,” he says, brightening up.

“That’s a fact,” Greg says with
a grin.

·18

“All right,” Scarlet says, “the
bags are by the front door. We have enough for a few days if we’re not greedy.”

“Good,” Johnny replies. “We’re
not going to be able to stop until we’re on the other side of Vegas.”

“We’ll have enough gas?” Scarlet
asks.

“We should,” he says. “Both
tanks are full and the one in the bed is too. That’s a little over eighty gallons
in all. We have enough fuel to get halfway across the country if we need to.”

Scarlet grins from ear to ear.
“Just think about it,” she begins. “In a week or so we could be taking a bath
in some secluded river. For the love of God, a
real
bath
,” she laughs.

Emma overhears the exchange and
chimes in, “We’re leaving?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” Scarlet
replies. “We’re going into the mountains like you were going to do before you
helped us. We’ll be leaving those things behind and living like regular people
again.”

Emma smiles with a twinkle in
her eye. “We can use my book to find different things to eat and we can sleep
outside just like we’re camping,” she says excitedly.

“We sure can,” Johnny says. “So
make sure you keep that book in a safe place in case we need it.”

“Oh, I will,” she nods. “I
always have it in my backpack with my other books and take it with me wherever
I go.”

Johnny sees something in the
child’s eyes, a type of excitement he hasn’t seen from someone in a long time.
He envies her innocence, her sense of hope, the courage to go on in the face of
everything that has happened.

Once Emma is out of earshot,
Johnny looks to Greg. “You know,” he begins, “I’m not sure what it is about
that kid, but she makes me feel like everything is going to be all right.”

“Yeah,” he replies. “She’s a
trooper. If I could have just a little of whatever it is that she’s got, I
probably wouldn’t be as scared as I am to leave.”

Johnny nods in agreement.

“Don’t let her fool you,”
Scarlet adds. “She’s still a little girl. I’ve heard her sob herself to sleep
at night. As strong as she is, she still needs us as much as we need her.”

“Then she can sure put on a good
act,” Johnny says.

“But that’s all it is, just an
act. Deep down, she’s as frightened as the rest of us. Some day she’s going to
need us for support when it all comes to a head,” Scarlet says. “I just hope
we’re there to help her.”

Greg shakes his head in thought.
“What’s it going to be like for those kids when they grow up? I mean, nothing
that we knew will be around for them when they get older. All they’ll ever have
are the images of the dead coming back to life and the loss of the people who
loved them.”

“That’s exactly my point,”
Scarlet replies. “We’re as important to them as they are to us. Children give
hope in otherwise hopeless situations. They need us so much and don’t even know
it. So what we’re doing, we’re doing for them. We need to give them as much of
a future as we can.”

Greg runs his hands through his
thinning hair. “Way to go,” he smirks. “I don’t feel any pressure at all now.”

Scarlet pats him on the back.
“You’ll do just fine, Papa Greg. You’ll do just fine.”

Johnny laughs at the exchange.
“Not to go changing the subject or anything, but when do you think we should
go?”

“Tomorrow morning would be the
best,” Greg replies, “as soon as the sun rises. That way we can get the most
out of the day.”

“I agree,” Scarlet says. “We
should be well beyond Vegas by tomorrow evening and maybe we can find some
place to sleep for the night.”

“Tomorrow, it is,” Johnny says.

The truck idles on the tracks at
the rear of the terminal, dust smearing across the hood and around each door
handle. Greg presses the button on the end of the turn signal lever and clears
two wide arches on the windshield, making the path clear in front of the
vehicle.

With intensity, he stares out,
daydreaming. He watches the dead stagger across the tracks and toward the side
gate, curious over the activity happening inside.

“Should we go through them?”
Greg asks aloud.

“I don’t think they’ll be a
problem,” Johnny replies. “Most of them are still up front.”

With the engine revving and the
children in the back of the king cab, Scarlet looks back at their refuge one
last time before taking a seat in the middle, between Jonny and Greg. The hairs
on the back of her neck stand on end as she turns her attention toward the
bodies creeping along the fence.

“They’re staring at us,” Billy
mentions. “I don’t like the way they’re looking at me.

“It’s okay, just turn away,”
Scarlet says. “We’ll be around them soon enough.” She gives Greg a hopeful
look.

“Oh, yeah,” he confirms. “We’ll
be…” he stammers as the dead begin to shake the fence. “Crap, just hold on.” He
revs the engine and places the shifter into drive. “This is going to be a
little bumpy,” he says, looking over his shoulder and backing the truck up
along the tracks until the rear bumper is almost against an idly sitting train.

“Is this going to be enough
distance?” Johnny asks.

“I sure hope so,” Greg replies.
Beads of sweat form along his brow as he takes a deep breath. It is moments
like these that Greg thought your life was supposed to flash before your eyes.
But in the heat of the moment, all he can see is dead, leering faces and a
small padlock fastened around the center of the gate.

Focused, he hits the accelerator
and grips the steering wheel tight with both hands. Behind him, the children
duck into their seats and let out quiet whimpers as the truck picks up speed.

At the point of impact, everyone
ducks their heads. The truck jostles around on the tracks as bodies deflect
from the bumper and hood. The sound of snapping bones and guttural moans are
cut short by the force of the truck, tearing through the obstacles in its path.
Bent and broken bodies glance off across the windshield, smearing fallout along
their route.

As the truck barrels along, the
dead take chase, stumbling and jerking through loose gravel as they pursue in
vain. A single body lurches up from in between two boxcars on diversion tracks
and steps out in front of the accelerating vehicle. With a loud knock, the
corpse is taken down beneath the truck. Wet thumping ensues as the cadaver is
pulled along below. There’s a loud pop as the body dislodges from the
undercarriage and tumbles off along the gravel.