Amanda Carter in the L.A.Z., life after zombies (3 page)

Amanda turned her back on the creeper, dismissed her wonderings, and was on the move again. But she had only made it a few yards when the barking of a dog halted her suddenly. The bark was immediately followed by a low and rumbling growl from another and what sounded to be larger . . . dog.

Chapter 4

“
T
his is fun,” Samantha said as she ground the Jeep into second gear, and Roy cringed, feeling it lurch forward before stalling and jerking to a stop.

“It’s all about timing,” Roy was instructing. “Try to concentrate on your timing between clutch and gas pedal.”

“In an emergency, I could always just leave it in first gear,” the girl said, “besides, the truck’s an automatic.”

Roy laughed, and Samantha started the vehicle again.

He leaned over to steal a quick peek at the gas gage, and as much as he hated to admit it, he doubted that there was enough gas to make it to town; there probably hadn’t been enough gas before their little driving lesson but especially not now. He frowned before realizing that he was doing it.

“Why don’t you take us back now,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

He wouldn’t have minded spending a bit more time out here. The Jeep was air-conditioned, and it had cooled the sweat on his clothes. Now he felt cool and damp, but that wouldn’t last long once they returned to camp. After their return, he would have Maryanne and Tammy come spend a little time cooling down, gas be damned. It was just too damn hot out here to go day in and day out so overheated. Unfortunately, it would not be possible to get Jason down from the hill and into the Jeep, and he probably needed it the most with the fever he had been running. It was difficult for Roy to see his friend languishing there, dying, but not as tough as it was for Samantha.

Jason had started yesterday with a fever from an infection that had set into the compound fracture of his leg, and no amount of air conditioning was going to change the fact that the man needed antibiotics. If Amanda didn’t come back or if she made it back but without the medicine, Jason would die.

It didn’t make any sense, but for a brief moment, Roy felt guilty, fearing that Samantha might have read his thoughts. To make up for it, he smiled, but he had nothing to fear because she was paying attention to the rutted dirt road, driving carefully, creeping along real slow in first gear because she kept stalling the Jeep anytime she tried to shift it into second.

O

“Mom, Where’s Sam?” Tammy asked after looking around the camp. She had just awoken from a nap. “It’s hot,” she moaned, picking her long curly brown hair up and away from her neck.

“I know it’s hot, sweetie,” Maryanne said, dipping a ladle into a pot of their precious water.

“Hold still,” her mother said, bringing the ladle toward her youngest daughter, careful not to spill any along the way.

“The water’s hot too,” Tammy groaned. “Yucky hot water,” she said, twisting away from the stream that her mother was pouring over her head.

“The water’s warm, not hot, and it will still help cool you down. There’s a nice wind today, and when it hits the water, it’ll act like air conditioning, so stay still, okay?” said Maryanne.

One more ladle, and Tammy’s hair was wet and dripping. Maryanne ran her fingers through her youngest daughter’s hair and mussed it up in a playful gesture.

“Don’t you mean that the wind will feel like getting hit with the air from a hot blow dryer, Mother?” it was Samantha’s voice using one of her sarcastic tones.

But when she walked up, she was smiling, which Maryanne considered was better than the mood she had left in.

“You’re back,” Maryanne said, “you startled me. I didn’t hear you coming.”

“It’s the wind,” Roy said. “It’s loud. We didn’t go past The Trench, not today.”

“No, Mom, it wasn’t the wind. Roy’s teaching me to be stealthy like Amanda. It worked,” Samantha said.

She was walking with a spring in her step and was in a good enough mood to be telling jokes. Maryanne was pleased; it had been a rough few days with her oldest daughter.

Samantha went to the pan of water and plunged her hands in, scooping some up to splash her face.

“Be careful with that water!” Maryanne yelled sharply, eliciting a sour look from her daughter. “If you must, use the ladle. Now the water is contaminated from your dirty hands, and we haven’t got much left to drink.”

“Hello, Mom, I’m using our wash water, for God’s sake,” Samantha snapped back. “It’s not like I’m messing up our drinking water or something, geez.”

“Watch your tone with me, young lady, and don’t use God’s name like that,” Maryanne said, practically echoing her own mother’s words and hating herself for it. Snapping at her daughter like that only caused more strife, but sometimes, she didn’t see any way around it.

“Whatev,” Samantha said, using one of her favorite slang words. She wheeled around and stomped away to plop down in the dirt.

“Whoa,” Roy said, feeling the need to step in since his friend Jason couldn’t. “It’s hot, let’s just, everybody, calm down. I don’t think that we’re thinking too clearly right now. We’re all hot and worried, so let’s just take a time out.”

His speech settled onto the group, apparently effective because no one spoke. He generally stayed out of their mother-daughter spats and let Jason handle it, but he glanced over to Jason’s still form a few yards away and sighed. He was worried.

“Where’s Amanda?” Tammy asked. “How come she’s not back yet?” Her big brown eyes were looking questioningly up to her mother, with her face a little pinched, showing her worry.

Maryanne looked to Roy and Samantha, who were both staring at her, but nobody spoke, and she didn’t know what to say. At least, Samantha wasn’t making a wisecrack.

“Wow, you’re right Roy, it’s hot,” Maryanne finally said. “What did the temperature gauge in the Jeep say?”

“Way to change the subject, Mom,” Samantha muttered.

So much for wisecracks
, Maryanne thought.

“It said that it’s 117 degrees out here,” Roy answered, hoping that he didn’t end up in the middle of another one of their arguments.

“How’d the driving lesson go, Samantha?” Maryanne asked, still trying to keep things light, even as sweat rolled down her back and rivulets of it moved down between her cleavage.

This seemed to work, and Samantha snapped her head up quickly, looking interested. “I’m a great driver, just ask Roy.”

Both Roy and Samantha laughed at this.

“I said,” Tammy continued, undaunted and louder than before, “where’s Amanda?” Her little face was red, and she was scowling at her mother.

“How’s about you and Tammy go sit in the air conditioning of the Jeep for a few minutes and cool down,” Roy said, tossing Maryanne the keys, which she deftly caught.

“I don’t know that we should spare the gasoline,” Maryanne said, giving him a look of worry.

“That isn’t what matters right now. Right now, you and Tammy need to get cooled down,” Roy said insistently. “What matters now is that I keep the three of you in good shape, or Jason’s going to yell at me when he wakes up.”

“Why won’t anyone answer my question?” Tammy lamented with a whine, looking like she might burst into tears.

Maryanne looked from Roy to her youngest daughter. The child was red-faced, sweating, and as a doctor, she knew how dangerous the heat could be.

“What about Jason?” Maryanne asked. “It’s time to sit him up and get some water in him if I can and then douse him so that he doesn’t burn up out here.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Roy said, giving her a reassuring nod.

“I’m going too,” Samantha said, jumping to her feet.

“No, you’re staying here and helping me with your father,” Roy said sternly.

“Whatev,” the girl said, issuing an eye roll. “So where is Amanda anyway?”

Roy gave Maryanne a wink, which he hoped would assure her that he could handle both Samantha and Jason in her absence. In return, Maryanne mouthed the words, “Thank you,” and left with Tammy.

“Give me a hand with your father,” Roy said. “I need a glass of water.”

Samantha complied without argument, and Roy went to Jason, lifting the man’s upper body to a sitting position. Jason never opened his eyes, and Roy could feel the heat radiating off of the man’s body.
It will be a miracle if he survives the day
, Roy thought but then worked to push it out of his mind. He was sure that Maryanne had had similar thoughts.

It was difficult to hold Jason up because his body was so limp that he kept trying to slip away from Roy’s grasp in whatever place Roy was not holding on to. Finally, Roy got behind the man, using his knees as well to stabilize Jason’s body.

Samantha returned with the water and knelt in front of her father. Roy felt sorry for the girl as he watched her skin turn ashen. There were a myriad of different emotions registering across her face as she lifted the glass to his lips.

Water dribbled out from around Jason cracked lips and down his chin. Sam looked to Roy, a scared expression on her face.

“Tilt his chin up a little,” Roy said. “Good, now just a little at a time.”

Roy watched as Sam delivered very minute amounts of water. Jason’s Adam’s apple moved up and down a couple times, showing that he had swallowed something, but still his eyes never opened.

“That’s good, just a little more,” Roy said.

“He’s so sick,” Samantha said with a whisper, delivering another couple of small amounts of water, until Jason coughed.

“Good, I’m going to set him back down now,” Roy said as he gently lowered Jason back to a horizontal position.

Sam had already brought the pan of wash water back to them before Roy had finished positioning his friend.

“I know what to do,” the girl said, dropping a rag into the pan. Roy backed away because it seemed that Samantha wanted some time with her father.

Roy went to sit with his back against a boulder. He watched as the teen dipped the rag, and then she would wring it out over Jason, until the feverish man had water dripping off of him.

“Water’s gone,” Samantha said, showing Roy the near empty pan.

“That’s okay,” Roy said, “you did good, real good.”

But secretly, he was worried about their water situation. There was, at most, two gallons to spread between them. During other times of the year, that might have seemed like no cause for panic, but out here in the summer, a body could easily lose a gallon or two of water a day, and there were five of them.

Samantha came to sit with Roy.

“The water’s almost gone, isn’t it?” Samantha asked.

Roy didn’t respond immediately, until finally he said, “Yes, and I would prefer, for my own sanity, that we not talk about that right now, please.”

The girl seemed to understand this, and she nodded, dropping the subject.

“Roy?” the girl said after a while. “Why back in the LBZ did Mom and Dad used to insist that we call you Uncle Roy even though you aren’t related to us?”

Roy took a breath and closed his eyes for a second. It seemed that children, even teenaged ones, always had a lot of questions.

“Well, Samantha . . .” he began but was interrupted.

“Call me Sam. All my friends used to call me Sam, and I wish my parents would too,” she said earnestly.

“You’d have to ask your parents to be sure, Sam,” he said, emphasizing her name, “but I think it’s because families stick together. They watch out for each other, and well, that’s what we do for each other, right?”

Sam thought about this, and he watched her countenance brighten a little. “Right,” Sam said, “that makes sense.”

The hot wind buffeted them, and the tarps snapped incessantly above their heads.

“So where’s Amanda, or would you prefer not to talk about that either?” Sam said, giving him a look that indicated that she wanted the truth.

Roy said nothing for a full minute. He wasn’t one to spend a lot of time talking, and it seemed to him like talking and answering questions was all he was doing lately. He sighed.

“Why won’t you answer me?” Sam bemoaned.

“Here’s the answer, Sam,” he finally said. “I don’t know where Amanda is or why she isn’t back yet, and that terrifies me.”

Chapter 5

I
t was a shock to hear the dogs out here in the middle of the desert. She had not so much as seen a dog in months, and the last time she had laid eyes on one, it was in town. She proceeded forward, cautiously, whipping the knife out just in case. She rounded the corner of a large boulder, and there they were, two dogs. She lowered the knife, hoping that she didn’t need to use it. As far as she knew, dogs could not be infected, and these two looked healthy.

“Hey there,” she said, lowering her body a little, so as not to appear threatening.

“It really is incredible,” she told herself, “Two dogs out here in this heat, how can this be?” she asked herself.

The smaller dog yelped once and began to pant heavily. The larger dog held its ground with a low, constant growl that came from deep down in his throat.

“I want to help,” she said, putting the knife back in its sheath.

The little dog was cute, friendly looking, with blond medium-length hair that curled at the edges. Her eyes were a deep chocolate brown, and they seemed to beckon to her. The large dog could easily be mistaken for a wolf out here except that he was red, with some white that ran under his chin and down to his belly. His eyes were black and sharp-looking. They were eyes that were observant, missing very little. And she had the strange feeling that he possessed a wisdom that was ancient.

If Amanda had been standing in the Oregon woods, she would have sworn that she was looking at an Oregon red timber wolf. But she had no clue how that could be out here in the harsh, hot, barren Southern California desert. And if he was a wolf, why was he paired up with this little dog that had probably been someone’s pet?

She watched as both dogs seemed to signal each other before turning to trot away, paws pressing lightly into the soft sand. Amanda stood there dumbfounded until the big red dog turned to look back at her, as if he was beckoning her to follow him, which she did.

The dogs trotted into a riverbed, following its path, with the red dog checking back periodically to make sure that she was still following.

The situation had created an odd, surreal feeling to Amanda as she watched the desert landscape slide slowly by as they traveled. Eventually, the riverbed dumped them out into a narrow canyon that had tall sides. There were a few stubborn bunches of California sagebrush that clung to the sandy ground.

It would not be uncommon in terrain like this to accidentally stumble across a sidewinder rattlesnake that had buried itself down into the soft sand, waiting for nightfall to hunt. She hoped that the wolf dog would be able to sense one before they happened across it.

She noticed that her feet felt hot and swollen inside her boots, like they had been superheated and then poured into her boots. This made her more clumsy than usual, and she tripped twice.

Up ahead, she saw that the dogs had stopped. Both of them sat down and turned to face her in a synchronized series of movements.
These two have been together for a while
, she thought,
they know each other well and are familiar with communicating with one
another
.

They both seemed to have a look of sadness in their countenance, and she knew before she reached them that she would not like what she discovered up ahead. In fact, the dread was palpable and seemed to grow the closer she got.

And then she saw why they had led her to this location. There was the lifeless body of a man lying sprawled, his limbs at impossible angles. It was no longer a secret how these two had come to be here and how they had survived the brutality of the land. This man had been their master.

Amanda looked around, fitting the pieces together. It was clear now that he had fallen from the top of the cliff above. Maybe he had climbed up there to get a better look at the horde, but in any case, he had fallen. The man was the real kind of dead, with eyes that stared but saw nothing. She felt pity for his two companions.

The wolf dog moved toward the man and nudged him with his muzzle. The man, of course, did not move. When the dog looked up to her, it was almost as if he were pleading with her to fix it, like she had a magic wand that could make it all better. Except that she did not have a wand, nor did she have the kind of magic that he was requesting. A great sadness came upon her as she wished that there was something that she could do to help, but it just was what it was: death.

With a pathetic sigh, she dropped her shoulders, staring down at the earth. Amanda could no longer look into his beckoning eyes; it hurt too much. She found herself hoping that he would understand.

When she looked up again, both dogs seemed to get what she thought they had already known. He was dead, and there would be no fixing it.

Both of the dogs chose to lie down beside the man, looking sad.

Amanda walked closer and then knelt beside him. She reached out and closed both of the man’s eyes, using the tips of her fingers. The dogs did not interfere. And the wolf dog no longer growled at her, apparently having accepted her as a friend and not a foe.

The man still had a tight grip on an old .22 revolver that was clasped in his palm. Amanda worked to loosen the man’s grip on the gun.

As she released the pistol from him, she thought of the popular saying, “You can take my gun after you pry it from my cold, dead fingers.” She cringed, knowing that this time, it was actually the truth.

“Sorry,” she whispered, “but you won’t be needing this anymore, and we do.”

Still, the wolf dog made no threatening sounds or moves against her. She supposed that in his wisdom, he understood. He seemed to be quickly coming to terms with the present situation, though his grief was still evident.

Gently, respectfully, she removed his boots and tied the laces together, and these she slung over her shoulder. She unclipped the small pack from his back and set that beside her after briefly going through the contents. There wasn’t much in the pack: a bandana that represented the American flag, a small can of pork and beans, a large hunting knife that was inside of a beautiful leather sheath with inlaid turquoise, and a couple of wet napkins still inside of their packaging.

Amanda felt strange doing it, but out of necessity for their situation, she checked his pockets. There she found a can opener and some coins. She put the coins back, but the little collapsible can opener would come in handy; this she slipped into her pocket. She pulled a wallet out of his back pocket, curious. She wanted to know his name. There was a picture of a pretty middle-aged woman with long blond hair, a twenty-dollar bill with a couple of ones, and nothing more. She ignored the money. There was no form of identification, and she felt bad that he would die alone and unnamed, as if it mattered. The wallet went back into his pocket. He would want to keep the picture of the woman. Amanda found herself wondering whom she was to him and if she was still alive, knowing that she might never have the answer to that question.

There was a time that she would have felt guilty about taking a dead man’s possessions, but that was the LBZ, and with each day, that time was slipping farther into the past. In the world as it was today, survival often meant ditching old ideas and beliefs for more productive ones. But the real key was to make sure that your humanity stayed intact regardless of the situation, and sometimes that was nothing but a thin line.

Amanda stood, took another swig of water, and looked down at the two dogs. Both of them were panting harshly. She had only a very little clue as to how long they had been out here masterless, with no water.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked, almost believing that they would answer her back.

She knelt and poured water into her palm. Though they both were looking greedily at it. The wolf dog let the little one lap some up first.

“So you’re a gentleman too,” Amanda said and then laughed.

After the little dog had finished, then the wolf dog finished off all but a couple sips of her water. There would be more at the truck, if it was still undisturbed. She stood.

“Come with me if you want,” she said, gently slapping her thigh a couple of times before turning to walk away. The little dog fell right into step beside her, but she had to stop and look back to see that the wolf dog had not moved and didn’t look like he had any intentions of doing so.

Amanda walked back to him, and he looked balefully up at her. His grief was so great that he still did not want to leave his master.

“Seriously?” she asked, knowing that she would never feel right about leaving him out here to die like this.

She sighed, trying to think of a solution. The dog was far too big for her to be carrying out of here, even if he would let her, which she doubted.

“Come on, soldier, get up, come with, we’ll live to fight another day,” she said, as if the dog could understand her and only needed a pep talk.

The little dog seemed to rally at this and gave a short yap in response with a vigorous tail wag.

“See,” Amanda said, “your friend here understands. It’s time to come with me now.”

Nothing happened except, if it was possible, the wolf dog appeared to sink even farther into the earth, lying there beside his previous master.

“I’ve had this happen to me before, Red,” she said. “I get it, but if you want to live, we’ve got to go. There are others depending upon me.”

Not knowing his name, she decided that she liked the name Red for him. In this very short time that she had known him, she had developed a feeling of kinship with him. She knew that she would figure this out because she was not leaving him, even with the new code that she now lived by.

Amanda sat down into the hot sand, feeling her lips drying. She would need more water soon. The little dog came and hopped into her lap, licking her face. Even though the dog’s breath stank, there was something very comforting about it.

As she sat pondering, she knew that there was a man back at camp that was depending upon her to return with the medicine that she had found. That man had a wife and children, and above all, she could not let them down. Events had thrown her way off of schedule, but as the minutes rolled past, her sense of urgency grew.

Finally, she came to the conclusion that this dog, who had been so loyal to his master, just needed some time to pay homage to the man. She identified with the wolf dog’s grief. She too had been there, not wanting to let go but needing to.

It surprised her that she had formed such an attachment to Red. She wasn’t a hard woman even in the midst of all this, but she had lost many special people in these dark times. She was no longer as prone to make decisions out of sentiment. But this seemed different, like somehow it wasn’t sentiment that kept her from moving on but something else, something important that was just out of grasp. Red seemed to have already identified that which she was searching for, and she stared into his eyes, looking for it.

After a while, she realized that she understood. When dealing with loss, she realized that sometimes it takes a gesture of completion to help someone move along with his life.
Could it be as simple as that?
She wondered.

The thought seemed far-fetched, but what if she was able to help Red to finalize the loss of his master? She moved the little dog from her lap and pushed herself up to her feet. She believed that she had just discovered the solution to their problem.