If Only to Forget (6 page)

Suddenly, the door the zombies were just clawing at swings open, slamming against the wall. The sound is so loud it breaks through the moans of the dead, distracting a few from their assault. Two stumble that way a second later when Tori runs out, followed closely by Jim.

“Look!” I scream, pointing toward the other survivors.

Riley glances that way as the others pause, and the sight of them seems to give him a second wind. He slams his pole into the horde, then swings it to the left. The thing is so long it knocks them down, and they topple over in a way that reminds me of bowling pins. Only two are left standing. The two between us and our friends.

Jim is holding a bat, and when he sees the zombies around us fall he takes off toward the two still standing. The monsters at our feet are down, but not out, and before they can get up Riley grabs my hand and jerks me forward. We stumble as we run over the fallen creatures, their hands grabbing at our legs as they try to figure out how to get us and get up at the same time. Their dexterity is off though, and trying to perform two actions at once seems to slow them down even more than they already are.

Jim knocks down the first zombie in our way, his aluminum bat slamming into the thing so hard I can hear the bone crack. Behind him, Tori screams for us to run, and Riley pulls me harder. As we close in on the remaining zombie, Riley releases me and grips the pole in both his hands. He then thrusts it forward, spearing the end through the monster’s stomach. The thing doesn’t go down until Riley jerks the pole to the right, slamming it against the wall.

“Let’s go!” Jim shouts, urging us to move as he turns to run, grabbing Tori’s hand on his way by.

Behind us, feet scrape against the floor and my swiftly pounding heart almost stops. I look over my shoulder long enough to confirm that the things made it up, then turn to focus on the hall ahead of me. Jim and Tori run, their ragged breathing audible even over the zombies at our backs, and at my side, Riley jogs. His hands empty now that he lost his pole, but his eyes open, always moving.

“Left,” he calls when Jim reaches a hall.

The other couple turns and Riley grabs my elbow as if to guide me as we follow. Just as I turn the corner, I catch sight of the massive group of dead that is hot on our trail.

“Faster!” I scream, jerking my arm away from Riley and forcing my legs to pump harder. “There have to be thirty of them!”

Tori lets out a shriek as Jim yanks on her arm. She stumbles, but he stops her from falling. Tori is shorter then Jim by about ten inches, and her legs don’t seem to be able to keep up with the man at her side.

At the end of the hall, we make another left. None of us speak, and I’m breathing so hard that I know I couldn’t even if I wanted to. The zombies at our backs haven’t slowed, but we’re faster. Only I don’t how much longer I can keep this pace. My claves burn, and the ballerina flats I thought were so perfect when I bought them weren’t made for running. I have to clench my toes to keep them from falling off, and it’s slowing me down. Riley keeps glancing my way with a worried look on his face, and I can tell he’s holding back. He could run faster, but he’s waiting for me.

When he shouts for us to make yet another left, I know what he’s doing. The school is a square, built with the halls circling the cafeteria, and if we keep going like this we’ll make it back to the front. With all the commotion we made, it should be clear. It seems like most of the zombies are right at our backs.

As we near the final turn, Riley grabs my arm yet again. He jerks me so hard that this time I don’t have a chance to curl my toes, and my right shoe slips off. Having only one shoe on makes my steps awkward and uneven, and I feel like I only have one option. Without thinking about it too much, I allow the other shoe to come off my foot, and I make my way down the hall with nothing to protect my feet.

My bare feet slap against the tile floor as we turn one final time, and when I see the empty hall in front of us, I almost shout with joy. Jim and Tori are only in the lead by two feet, but the older man slows a tad until he’s even with Riley.

“That SUV?” he asks between pants, his gray eyes moving behind us as we run in a small bunch.

Riley nods. “Only option.”

Jim presses his thin lips together, but he doesn’t argue. I don’t even know if he disagrees.

We rush through the doors as a group, and out into the dark night. The sun has set completely, and the air is cold, almost crisp, but it’s also tainted. The foul stench of death a sharp contrast to the sounds of nature. Like a graveyard built in the middle of a nursery.

Like the hall, the front lawn of the school is mostly clear of the dead that had previously been ambling here. In the distance there are still bodies, and as soon as they’re aware of us they head our way. But we’re mostly in the clear. Assuming the SUV has keys like Riley thought it would and the battery isn’t dead, we should be okay.

Our footsteps pound against the grass as we rush forward, jumping over rotting mounds of flesh that used to be people as zombies pour out of the school behind us. In the distance, the SUV is just visible. It’s big, just like Riley said, and if we can get it started we should be able to drive across the schoolyard with no problem.

We reach the SUV in less than a minute, and I jump in the open door, climbing across to the passenger seat. Riley climbs in after me while Tori and Jim get in the back. Before the doors are even shut Riley has the key—which is right in the ignition where he thought it would be—turned. The engine roars to life and Riley slams the door shut.

When he throws it in gear I pump my fist in the air, letting out a scream of victory. “Woohoo!”

Riley grins my way as he turns the wheel to the right and slams his foot on the gas. The car lurches forward. None of us speak as Riley drives across the field, heading to the back of the school. In the front, the roads are completely clogged with traffic, but maybe if we can get to another street we’ll be able to pull through.

The tires thump over the bodies spread across the yard, the victims of the first wave that hit our town. I squeeze my eyes shut as I bounce up and down in my seat, doing my best not to think about those bumps as people. People I might have known.

“Fence!” Jim shouts from the back seat.

My eyes open in time to see Riley tighten his grip on the steering wheel.

“I’m going through,” he says through clenched teeth.

It’s chain link, but I still curl my hands into fists. We should be able to get through pretty easily.

Riley presses his foot on the gas and the engine roars as the car speeds ahead. When the front of the SUV slams into the metal fence, Tori and I both scream. The whole truck jerks, but the metal links give and the thing comes loose, allowing the vehicle drives through.

Just past the school, a road comes into view. Unlike the others, it’s not clogged with cars. It runs through a residential area, which will require some extra travel time, but at least we’re on the road.

Jim leans forward and slaps Riley on the shoulder. “Nice job.”

Riley nods and lets out a deep breath. “Yeah. Now let’s see if we can find any emergency broadcasts on the radio.”

This is not a test. The FVL1 Virus has spread and has now affected all fifty states. The President has declared a state of emergency, and the National Guard has been deployed. Emergency procedures are in place, and all unaffected citizens are to travel to the nearest refugee center. Refugee centers located within this broadcast area are: North Charleston Coliseum, Beaufort High School, The Colleton Center, Saint George Fire Department—”

Riley turns the radio down. His Adam’s apple bobs as he slows the SUV, scanning the area. We’re in the middle of a neighborhood, but at the moment nothing’s moving.

“We need to talk about what we’re going to do,” Riley says after a few seconds of tense silence.

He puts the car in park and turns so he can face Tori and Jim. I do the same, twisting in my seat until I can see the others. Tori’s short hair is a mess and her eyes are almost as big as golf balls behind her dark frames. Jim looks calm, but I’d bet he always looks that way. He’s older than the rest of us, probably close to fifty. Tall and thin, but not overly skinny. He has a short beard that’s neatly trimmed despite almost a week in the school, and there’s only a little gray in his wavy brown hair. He has a calming presence that seems authoritative at the same time.

“North Charleston isn’t that far,” he says, his voice soothing. Tori’s tense shoulders relax, almost like his quiet tone is able to penetrate the stiffness in her muscles.

“Seems like a pretty shitty place for a refugee center,” Riley says. “I mean, damn. You know what’s around there? All the businesses and restaurants, the outlets. Plus, it’s really close to the Boeing plant and the Air Force Base. If all the people in that area were infected, you’re looking at a hell of a lot of zombies walking around.”

He’s right. Shit.

“What then?” Tori asks, her eyes somehow growing bigger. “The other centers they listed are a pretty good drive. Do we have enough gas for that? It’s not like we can just stop and refill.”

“We’re good on gas,” Riley says. “The real question is, do we want to go to a refugee center?”

“Where else can we go?” I say, hating how small my voice comes out.

Jim meets Riley’s gaze and shakes his head. “I know what you’re saying, but we have to see if there’s any kind of authority left.”

He doesn’t say it, but I can hear it in his tone. Jim doesn’t think there will be anyone left, which makes me think of every zombie movie and TV show and book and comic I’ve ever read or seen. We need a plan. A real plan.

“We need to get someplace less populated,” I say, sitting up straight. Everyone turns to look at me, and even though I have no idea why, my cheeks get warm. “We need a plan before we drive in there, just in case there isn’t anyone in the government left. If we’re on our own, we have to consider the best course of action. We need to get out of a populated area. I mean, I get what you’re saying about the government. We should check it out. But if that falls through our number one priority should be to get out of here. Fast.”

Riley and Jim nod, and even though Tori doesn’t, she also doesn’t argue. I guess that means she’s on board.

“So we check it out?” Riley says, craning his neck to look out the back window.

I follow his gaze, and see a group of the dead moving our way. Ten of them, maybe. They’re still a good distance off, but the car’s engine must have attracted them. We have to move.

“Yeah.” I turn back around in my seat to indicate I’m done talking about it.

“Let’s move,” Jim says from behind me.

Riley turns back to face the front without responding, then puts the car in gear. We drive in silence for a few minutes. My mind spins, replaying the events. I can’t figure out what happened, but the fact that the school’s front door was wide open bugs me.

“What happened?” I ask, turning back to face Tori and Jim. “We fell asleep upstairs, but when we woke up we spotted that crazy lady—”

“Patty,” Riley says.

I nod even though I don’t give a shit what her name was. “Yeah, Patty. We saw her outside and she had already turned. What the hell happened?”

“She went nuts,” Tori says, shaking her head like none of it makes sense. “We were all in the cafeteria discussing our next course of action, and she was totally quiet. Didn’t say a word most of the time. Then out of nowhere she stands up and tells us God told her it would all be okay, that if we followed her we could walk out and not be harmed. Only we couldn’t all go, of course. The unrighteous had to stay.” Tori looks at me. “I can only assume she meant you.”

Of course.

“So she just went out there?” Riley asks, glancing in the rearview mirror at Tori.

“Yeah. We tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen. Jim even tried to restrain her.”

Jim’s face turns red, and he looks away. “Had a good hold on her until she clipped me in the balls with her elbow. Took me by surprise. She seemed like such a nonviolent person.”

“Whatever,” Tori says, rolling her eyes. “That bitch ran the second Jim was down and threw the damn doors open. Let the bastards inside while she went out. All hell broke loose and since we were all standing in the hallway, it was a massacre. Jim grabbed me and we took off, ended up in a closet. I don’t know if anyone else made it.”

“Shit,” Riley mutters.

“No kidding.” I turn around to face the front, my hands clenched into fists.

Thinking that we may have left people behind has me sick to my stomach. There were kids and elderly people there. People who can’t fend for themselves.

We go back to driving in silence.

It takes us twenty minutes to reach North Charleston. The closer we get to the coliseum, the more clogged the roads are. Riley constantly has to maneuver around abandoned cars and corpses walking the street, which makes our progress slow. His hands are so tight on the steering wheel that his knuckles are white.

“I don’t know if we’re even going to be able to get close,” he says through his teeth.

“What then?” Tori’s voice is high.

“Kyra’s right.” Jim scoots up so he can lean between the seats and talk to Riley. “Even though we’re still a couple blocks away, I’d say this pretty much confirms my suspicions. If the National Guard or some other form of government were here, we’d see evidence by now.”

He’s right, of course. There are no tanks or other military vehicles. No signs or roadblocks. No police cars or men in riot gear trying to lead us to safety. There’s nothing but the dead.

“We need to get out of here,” I say, leaning closer to Riley so I can look at the gas gauge.

More than half a tank, which will help, but we’re eventually going to need to think about gas. And supplies. We need food and water and flashlights and weapons. We need to think about defending ourselves, and not just from the dead. There could be other survivors, and if there’s anything post-apocalyptic fiction has taught us, it’s that people could end up being our worst enemy. Not the walking dead.

Riley nods, and he doesn’t wait for the others to agree. Instead of turning onto the road that leads to the coliseum, he turns the other way. Heading to the highway so we can get out of North Charleston.

“Where now? North or south?” Riley asks, taking his eyes off the road long enough to glance my way.

Good question.

His face and body are rigid, and it’s obvious he doesn’t want to be the one to make this decision. I don’t blame him. Where we go next could determine whether or not we live.

I turn to face the others. Tori’s mouth is scrunched up, and Jim’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. They don’t really look like they have a clue what to do.

Not that I feel any more confident when I say, “South?”

Jim nods slowly like he’s considering it. “Winter is coming, so going south would mean we wouldn’t have to combat weather. It would be warmer, and if we were near the ocean we’d have food as long as we could get some fishing gear.”

“What about an island?” Tori asks, scooting closer. “My family used to vacation in the Keys. Lots of islands down there.”

“Not a bad idea.” Jim chews on his bottom lip while he thinks it through, his eyebrows pulled together in concentration. “We’d only have to deal with the living dead in that area. Wouldn’t have to worry about more wandering in. Assuming this doesn’t get cleared up, we could easily destroy a bridge to keep us secluded.”

“You think this is long-term?” Tori asks.

It is, in one way or another. Even if these monsters die off for a second time, most of the population is gone. Things will never be what they were, at least not in our lifetime.

“Only time will tell,” I say, turning back to face the front.

My hands start to shake, and the tremors move up my arms. When Riley reaches out to grab my hand, I don’t stop him. His fingers lace through mine and it helps me feel like I’m not going to bow under the pressure of this situation.

“Shit!”

I wake so suddenly I forget where I am. My head jerks up before I’ve totally surfaced from my dream world. The second my eyes land on the traffic jam just visible in the distance, everything that’s happened comes screaming back. There are shuffling figures just visible, moving through the throng of cars.

Zombies.

Riley slows as I rub my eyes, and Jim shoves his head between the seats. In the back, Tori is swearing like a sailor.

“We’re gonna have to circle back,” Jim says. “Get off at the last exit and hope we can make our way around.”

“We need food,” Tori pipes in.

As if on cue, my stomach rumbles.

It’s still dark, and the clock on the dash tells me it’s after one in the morning. We’ve been driving for a few hours, and I haven’t eaten since the eggs and bacon from early yesterday morning. Food would be nice.

“We’re going to need gas soon too,” Riley says, looking over his shoulder at Jim. “Please tell me you know how to siphon gas.”

Jim shrugs, looking totally modest. “Not that hard, to be honest.”

Thank God.

Riley turns the wheel, making a wide arc in the middle of the road so he can turn around. “So maybe we find a place to hang for a bit? A house or something. We can get some sleep, look for supplies. We have nothing.”

He has a point. All we have with us are the clothes on our backs and a couple baseball bats. And whatever else we can find in this car, which doesn’t seem like much. I’m not even wearing shoes now that I lost mine in our escape.

“Sounds like a plan,” Jim says, settling back. “Be good to find a house not too far off the interstate. Something outside town. Maybe we can figure out where we are and make a plan to run for more supplies.”