Euphoria-Z (18 page)

There was no way the two could think of to free the van by sitting in it. They sat in silence, racking their brains for an idea. Without knowing exactly what happened, it was impossible to come up with anything, not to mention the distraction of hundreds of corpses bumping and thumping on the sides of the van.

Neither one had much room, as the van was stuffed full. Ron even had large boxes of nails and screws at his feet. They couldn’t roll down the windows to throw anything out, but Ron thought he could shift things around and crawl over the cargo to look out the rear doors to see what was happening.

Having all the windows up made the van stuffy and warm; both men were already sweating. Ron pulled objects from the rear of the van and handed them off to Sal, who tried to fit them in Ron’s abandoned seat. The van was tight and dark and thrummed with the hammering of the dead.

Ron was between the seats and working his way back, but Sal was right next to the driver’s window. The faces of the dead smacked and smeared the glass next to him. He tried not to look, but the fear of the glass shattering made him check every so often. As he packed objects into the passenger seat and floor well, he couldn’t help but see the faces pressed against the window across from him.

“Oh shit,” Sal whispered as he watched a white finger worming its way into a small gap where the window hadn’t rolled all the way up. Another white worm slid in and then three more. The fingers pulled on the window, but it stayed up. Sal jumped from his seat, reached over a large power drill still in its box, grabbed the crank, and pulled. His heart jumped as the window dropped a half-inch. A hundred dead fingers appeared in the gap, grasping and pulling. He tried to turn the crank the other way, but the fingers jammed it open.

“What the hell?” Ron stuck his head back up front.

“Got their fingers in a crack.” Sal fell back into his seat, sweating. “I’m scared as shit they’re going to get it open.”

Ron looked nervously at the row of wiggling dead fingers. “It looks like it’s holding. Let’s hurry.”

With Sal’s help, Ron managed to clear a space across the top of all the cargo in the rear of the van. Ron squirmed into the gap. As he struggled to get to the rear of the van, Sal could only wait and watch the fingers in the gap trying to open the window. The glass was now smeared with foulness. Nothing could be seen but the smear trails of hands and faces.

The fresher, stronger corpses tended to knock the weaker ones aside. The stronger ones pounded the glass, sometimes smashing their faces in frustration against it, mouths opened in anticipation of a bite of flesh, a squirt of blood, only to meet the hard, smooth surface with exposed teeth. The teeth cracked, were pushed back or even out, sometimes through lips, and Sal couldn’t stop watching with morbid curiosity. It sickened him. He knew it would give him nightmares and make eating anytime soon impossible, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Ron pushed a board forward to get it out of his way, and it hit the windshield hard. Sal jumped. “Watch it!”

Sal waited as Ron grunted and struggled. The pounding was starting to get to him; he just wanted it to stop. He pressed his hands over his ears, but that didn’t help, and he needed to listen for Ron. The fingers still wiggled and pulled.

Ron reached the rear door, and the glass was black. He thought that there might be a ditch behind them because there were no deadheads pounding on the back door, plus the wheels seemed to be suspended in the air.

“Sal, I have to open the door to see what’s going on back there.”

“NO! NO!” Sal screamed, not knowing the situation. He had no time to reason through any of it other than to know that Ron would die if he opened the rear door.

“There’s no dead back here. I think it will be safe. We seem to be suspended over a ditch or something.”

“A ditch? I don’t remember seeing a ditch anywhere near here.” Sal relaxed. Of course Ron wouldn’t open the door if the dead were outside pounding on it.

Ron felt around in the dark until he found the handle and pulled it. The latch popped and the door flew open. The dead moaned in response. Ron and the van hung over a black void. Across the wide hole behind the van, the dead surged forward in a thick wall and rained over the edge. And despite the incredible stench of rotting corpses, the cold night air was wonderful.

Among the haul from the home improvement store were several flashlights, and Ron flicked one on. He could see the edge of a very deep sinkhole or something like it. It must’ve been deep. Even as he shone the light straight down into it, all he could see were the bodies dropping into darkness. He wondered if all the bodies of the dead that pounded and pushed on the van could push it into this very large, very deep hole.

He watched the spectacle in the beam of his light for a few moments. He finally felt like they had hope of getting out of the jam they were in, when the van lurched. The cargo shifted and slid backward, pushing Ron out the back of the van. If the fall didn’t kill him, or a ton of construction supplies landing on him, the ravenous dead surely would.

17.

Cooper lowered his scope. He was at a loss. In one of those tiny, gas-efficient, world-saving, two-door, two-seat little cars was a woman so fat he had no idea how she managed to close the door. He dropped the scope in his pocket.

Ana was looking around as she waited for Cooper, and she pointed across the highway. “Look, a house.”

He looked up and saw the edge of a walled housing development high on a steep hill. There was probably a gatehouse somewhere along the base of the hill with cameras and a guard who screened the people who went in and out of the place. From the look of it, the homes were nice ones with a decent space between them. He lifted the scope again and looked along the wall. He saw the tops of luxury homes but no signs of life.

“It would be a hard climb, but maybe that would be a place to stay the night.”

Cooper looked back at the woman in the car, who was still waving and looking more desperate.

“Did you see the lady in the car?” he asked, pointing towards the highway.

Ana shielded her eyes with her hands and looked at the highway. “I see her, I think.” He gave her the scope. She looked around; then suddenly she giggled.

“You know she can’t help the way she is, so no laughing at her when we get to her.” He looked at her again through the scope, studying the situation. The tiny car was wedged between a flatbed truck and another car. He was going to have to move the truck, which was on the driver’s side. She would never be able to get out of the passenger-side door.

“Sorry, but you have to admit that’s a funny picture.”

“Yeah, I know.” He was grinning like a fool. “Let’s go. Stay close behind me.”

§

In a few minutes they were on the highway. Some of the dead were in the cars, moaning and slapping at the glass to get out. Some of the glass was smeared with a thick nasty goop, so all he could see were the streaks moving and changing as the dead on the inside beat and rubbed the glass.

He worked his way toward the woman in the car, Ana right behind him. She was staying very close to him. She stepped on the back of his boots and bumped into him a few times. He turned to tell her to back off a little but saw how freaked out she was at the dead faces slapping and leering at them from the cars. Since he had met her, she had held a practiced mask of indifference. No doubt playing the part of a tough, unflappable character as a form of protection, but now she was hugging herself and trying not to touch anything. He’d been trying not to touch anything either. He noticed that the dead left a lot of evidence when they passed.
It was as if a giant turd squeezed between the cars,
he thought with a chuckle. Telltale streaks of grime and fluid coated every surface. Bits of cloth, hair, flesh, and other tatters clung to every protrusion. He looked at the ground and saw teeth, fingernails, jewelry, watches, wallets, etc. He stopped looking at the ground but winced when he stepped on a tooth. He could always tell when he stepped on a tooth. They had a certain screechy quality that he could feel in his own teeth.

He reached back and offered Ana his hand. She grabbed it and held on tight. They made it to the car quickly and the woman was trying to smile as she waved at them, but her eyes were saying “For God’s sake, get me the hell out of this car!”

He lifted Ana to the flatbed, surprised at how light she was, and then jumped up and walked over to the lady. He lay on the flatbed and spoke to her through the partially opened sunroof.

“I need to move the truck, so hold tight.” He jumped into the cab of the truck and found no keys. He put the truck in neutral and felt it start to roll. He cut the wheel away from the car and jumped out to push a little.

“Sit tight, Ana,” he told her, but she wasn’t going anywhere.

She waved at him with a smile.

There was a loud screech of metal as the truck rolled away from the car. He went over to help the lady out. She fumbled around and then the door popped open. She leaned halfway out of the car and groaned. A very ripe smell filled the air. It was still not as bad as the smell of the rotting flesh all around the highway, but it was pretty bad.

“Oh my God!” The woman rolled from the car and landed on all fours. She alternated between sobbing and laughing. Cooper went to help her and touched her skin; it was cold and dry. She was clearly dehydrated and delirious.

“I just need a moment,” she said. “I have been in that car for almost three weeks, no, three months, with no food and no water. I can’t feel my legs. My head! AHHH!”

She was clearly out of it. She couldn’t have survived in the car for more than a few days. Cooper was worried about her volume. She was loudly rambling, laughing, crying, holding her head. Cooper had no idea what to do with her. Her shoes were off and her feet were dark blue. She was young, blond, and pretty despite the excess weight.

“You should roll over and lie down. You need to let the blood flow back into your legs.” he put his hand on her shoulder and helped her onto her back.

Cooper stood as she grunted and groaned. She was complaining about nausea and having eaten too much. He was worried she might already be too far-gone. He looked around, and all was clear. Ana was just standing there on the flatbed looking around. Cooper pulled one of the two MREs he was able to carry with him from his jacket. He had a bottle of water too.

“You ready for this now?” He handed Ana the MRE after removing the powdered energy drink. She sat and dug through it. He sat on the ground next to the lady and opened the water bottle. He held her head up and drizzled some water into her mouth. He was talking to her.

“I'm Cooper and this is Ana.”

The lady murmured, “Lisa.”

“OK. Nice to meet you.” He stood to check on Ana, who was eating the bread and jelly that came in the MRE and looking at the pouch of spaghetti dubiously. The candy was already gone, no wrapper in site—she must have put it in her pocket.

“The food is actually really good,” he said to Ana.

Lisa piped up. “I bet it is! I haven’t eaten…” She was quiet again as her head lolled back.

Cooper poured some of the powdered energy drink into the water and shook it. He sat next to Lisa and held up her head. He started feeding her a little of the liquid at a time. She seemed to be drinking on her own, and the color was returning to her feet.

He stood and looked around nervously for a few minutes as Ana ate and Lisa rested. He wasn’t sure what to do. Lisa looked like she might not be able to walk. He went over to see if she was ready to eat. He opened the pouch of pasta and gave her a little.

“Here.” He gave her some more. “You feeling better? You’re kind of quiet.”

“Sorry. I’m just enjoying our date.” She winked at him. Her attitude was good, but he could see she was still hurting.

“I'm too young for you.” Cooper smiled as he moved down to her feet. He was rubbing them to get the blood flowing.

“How old do you think I am?” she asked, feigning offense.

“How old do you think I am?” he shot back.

“Twenty-five.”

Cooper smiled. “I’m nineteen.”

“Bullshit.” She smiled.

“No, really.” He did look old for his age. He was tall, confident, and had a full five o’clock shadow. He was always mistaken for being much older than he was.

“Well, I’m twenty-nine. Tough luck for you, huh?” She smiled.

He was thinking of something clever to say when Ana’s head appeared over the edge of the truck bed.

“Umm, Cooper. People are coming.”

He jumped up on the truck and used the scope to look down the 101 back toward Salinas. There was a swarm of the dead moving down the road, probably thousands of them. At the rate they were moving, it could be an hour before they got to them.

“They must have been following us since Prunedale.” He jumped down and spent another thirty minutes letting Lisa recover, watching the slow approach of the dead, and talking. Ana was seventeen, it turned out. They also discussed where they were from and other inane points of conversation. Lisa asked how they met, and Ana looked at her hands. Cooper told the story up until the point he had to “go get Ana” but didn’t offer much more. Lisa knew what that meant, could see the pain in his face. All was quiet for a few moments.

“We need to move soon,” Cooper finally said.

“Because of the sick people,” Ana stated flatly.

“Yes, and there are a lot of them too.”

She looked scared but tried not to as she walked over to stand by Cooper. He could tell she was about to hold his hand as her hand brushed his. She folded her arms tightly instead.

“We'll be OK,” he said. “They are slow and very far away right now.”

He jumped down and knelt by Lisa. “Are you OK to walk?”

“If by sick people she means dead people, then shit yes.”

It took all of Cooper’s strength to help her to her feet. Ana tried to help by pushing hard on Lisa’s rear and she ended up grunting loudly. She was of no real help, but Cooper couldn’t stop his face from cracking into a very big smile. He was trying hard not to laugh, and his face was beet red.