In the Lone and Level Sands (52 page)

“Won’t anyone say anything?”

“What should we say?” Jesse asked. He turned
to look at her.

“Anything, I guess. I can’t take the
silence.”

“I miss Tylor,” Beverly said. Her eyes never
left the window.

“No offense, but that’s only bringing me
down. Come on, something that’ll get our spirits higher.”

“It looks like it’ll rain.”

“I’m feeling better already,” Jesse said. He
rolled his eyes.

“Jesse,” Phil said.

“Were we not in the same stadium?” Phil
looked at him. “Did we not both see mom die?” Phil shook his head
and sighed, but didn’t respond. Jesse looked back out the window.
Phil looked out his, and Francine watched the road.

Nearly twenty minutes later, Alan broke the
silence that had fallen over his own car.

“We should probably find a place to pick up
some food and supplies.”

“Well, there’s a Wal-Mart in Everett,” Billy
said.

“Good idea, Billy.” Alan’s eyes moved
between the road and Francine’s car. She was still following a half
car’s length behind him.

Nearly forty minutes after they’d left the
stadium, Wal-Mart loomed into view. Alan slowed and flipped on his
blinker, then checked to make sure Francine was still
following.

Alan drove past the remains of a car that
had slammed into a light pole, cruised around the bend, and pulled
up to the front of the store. Francine stopped behind him. Alan got
out and hurried over to her window. She rolled it down.

“Do you have enough gas to make it down the
road?” Alan asked. “That’s where we’ll stop next.”

“Yeah, but I’ll need some soon.”

“I’ll need some, too. For now, our focus is
getting supplies. A few lightweight but decent weapons, food, you
know. Everything we might need.” Alan looked out at the parking
lot. It was scarce; it appeared most shoppers had gotten away from
the store when people started to change.

Martha clutched her picture frame so tightly
that the corners made deep indentations on her palms. She looked at
the set of doors they’d pulled in front of with concern in her
eyes.

“Is everyone ready?” Alan asked. Everyone
got out of the cars.

“It could be dangerous in there, we really
should hurry,” Martha said.

“Maybe we can find a gun or two,” Francine
said. The wind pushed a dark lock of hair into her eyes.

“I wouldn’t be too confident that we will,”
Alan said. “It’s been five days since this all started.”

There was still electricity, so the “IN”
door slid open as everyone filed into the abandoned store. There
were several carts cluttering the floor up front. Some contained
wares, some were empty. In the seat of one was a mass of torn
flesh, from which four mostly torn-away limbs barely extended. The
mess was still strapped into the cart via the safety belt. Francine
was the only one to notice this, and she did her best to hold down
the contents of her stomach.

Phil grabbed a cart and pushed it through
the inner doors and into the grocery department.

“Where’s the Lawn and Garden section?” Billy
asked. “If we want weapons, we might try there.” They stopped
walking for a moment. Martha looked as far as her eyes would take
her, but didn’t see any sign of the garden department.

“It’s not on this side, I don’t think,” she
said. “Let’s try the other side.”

“While we’re over here, we might as well get
the food,” Phil said.

“All right.”

“Then we can swing by the sporting section
and see if their hunting gear hasn’t been raided. We’ll check out
Lawn and Garden last.” He pushed the cart and everyone moved
quickly, grabbing food almost indiscriminately.

“What about the pharmacy?” Martha asked.

“We can stop there too,” Emily said.

When they finished gathering food, they went
to the pharmacy for medicine and other supplies, then toward the
hunting gear. They treaded lightly, trying not to alert any hidden
zombies.

Emily had been walking close to Billy, but
she moved to catch up with Beverly. Beverly sped up to leave her
behind.

“Beverly, why are you doing this?” Emily
said.

“It’s okay that you have your priorities,
Emily. I’m over that. I’m not high on your list. I forgave you for
that. I still have to forgive myself for letting my husband die.
Sorry I can’t be like I was before, for you.”

Emily frowned. “Why are you still on this?
It’s no one’s fault about Tylor. And you’re not unimportant to me.
You’re acting like you’re already one of them, like you’ve already
lost! You’re alive, Bev, start acting like it!”

“It’s just not that simple, Emily.”

Emily looked at the others, who were trying
to stay out of it. Billy met her gaze, Martha did as well. Emily
sighed, and they kept moving. Soon, they made it to the hunting
gear.

There was a large square check-out counter
with two registers on top. The glass cases that made up most of the
counter were smashed. Any guns that might have been there were
gone. The survivors looked around the entire area. Nothing but
empty cases, knocked over shelves. There were no guns.

“I’m going to get a drink of water,” Beverly
said. She headed for the bathrooms that were on the other side of
some shelves. Everyone waited for her. Emily followed her with her
eyes.

“Honey,” Billy said, “don’t worry about
Beverly. If she doesn’t want to listen to you, that’s her problem.
I know it’s gotta be hard for you, the two of you have been friends
forever. It’s just sad that she’s willing to throw it all
away.”

“I just don’t know what I’ve done wrong,”
Emily said.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, dear,” Martha
said. She grabbed Emily’s arm and tugged. “Look at me.” Emily faced
her. “She’s scared, hurt, and lashing out at you, probably because
you’re close to her. She’s just as lost as anyone. Just be patient.
I think she’ll come around.”

“I hope—”

A scream broke through the air. It was
Beverly. Emily ran, grabbing a bat as she headed down an aisle.
Martha and the others followed.

“Wait, Emily!” Martha said.

Emily found Beverly struggling with a big,
muscular zombie wearing a tank top soaked through with blood. Emily
rushed forward with the bat in the air.

“Emily, please!” Beverly said. The zombie
grunted in frustration, pulling her arm into its mouth. She pulled
back as hard as she could, but the zombie was strong. It closed its
bloody teeth over Beverly’s skin and bit down, and Beverly
screamed. Blood dripped down her arm and onto the floor.

Emily slammed the bat into the zombie’s
face, and its grip loosened on Beverly. She moved away and
collapsed to the ground, holding her wound. The zombie fell, but
wasn’t done. It scrambled for Beverly, and Emily hit it again. When
she hit it a third time, blood splattered the brand new bat. It
took two more swings to kill the zombie. Finally, she dropped the
bat, breathing heavily, tears in her eyes. She looked at
Beverly.

“Where… did that… come from?”

“I was just getting a drink, and he must
have come from the men’s room.” Beverly’s hand clamped tighter on
her arm, and she winced from the pain. Emily looked at the
others.

“You all go to the garden department, I’ll
stay with Beverly. We’ll meet you over there in a few!”

“We’re not going anywhere without you, Em,”
Billy said.

“Just go! Me and Beverly will meet you over
there.”

“She’s not—” Martha said. She stopped
herself and looked down.

“She’s not what?” Emily said with tears in
her eyes.

“Never mind. We’ll be waiting.” Martha and
the others left.

“I’m not going to make it,” Beverly said.
“That’s what she was going to say.”

“Of course you’re going to make it.” Emily
hugged Beverly hard, a sob escaped her mouth.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you,”
Beverly said. “I want you to know that before I’m gone.” Emily
cried louder. “Emmy, did you hear me? I need you to know that!”

They broke the embrace.

“It’s okay,” Emily said. Tears rolled down
her cheeks. “It’s okay!”

“Good.” Beverly smiled. “I need you to do
something for me.”

“What? Anything!”

“Go. Get the rest of what you need and get
out of here.”

“No. I don’t want to leave you!”

“Just go. I don’t want anyone to have to
deal with me after I’m gone.”

“I can’t do that,” Emily said.

“I’m sorry for earlier, Emily. I’m sorry for
how I acted.”

“That doesn’t matter now. Please don’t do
this to me. You’ll be okay. We just need to stop the bleeding.”

“You and I both know that’s not true.
Typical Emily. I can’t blame you.” Beverly chuckled. Emily hugged
her. “This is what I want, to be left here. Soon, I’ll move on, I
can be with Tylor again. It was meant to be this way.” Beverly
closed her eyes. “Go! Please!”

Emily was silent, her head was spinning.
More tears flowed down her face. Finally, she nodded. “If that’s
what you want, Bev.”

Emily hugged her friend one more time,
grabbed the bat from the floor, and left Beverly by the water
fountain. A few feet away she stopped, turned back, and saw Beverly
leaning against the wall. Emily headed for the others.

****

When they got to the garden department, the
door welcomed them, opening promptly as they approached.

“Each of us should have something to defend
ourselves with,” Alan said.

“Yeah, shouldn’t be too hard, here,” Billy
replied.

Emily soon joined them, her bat in one hand.
Martha looked around and saw a hand shovel. It was one of the
narrower models with a nice sharp point, good for jabbing. She
snatched it up. Alan grabbed a shovel and leaned it against a
shelf.

“You know, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to
take a gas can or two. We can fill them with spare gas, just in
case.”

“Very good idea,” Martha said. She scratched
her elbow with her free hand and smiled at Alan as he walked around
to the next aisle.

A large man with a dirtied blue apron tied
around his thick body stood before the gas cans. He was missing
much of the skin around his right eye; the muscle tissue was
exposed all the way down to his mouth, where his upper lip had been
ripped off. Coagulated blood covered his face.

Alan jumped and grunted upon seeing the
zombie. He backed up. The fat zombie had already seen him. Its face
tightened, and the exposed muscle tensed. The zombie’s eyes
narrowed, and it growled angrily, hungrily.

“Shit,” Alan said. The zombie took a
lumbering step forward, then moved quickly toward him. Alan swung
the shovel back and heaved it forward. The edge of it struck the
zombie’s forehead. It fell to the ground, blood poured from the
fresh slice in its head. The zombie screeched. Alan hit it again
and again. Finally, it died. Alan stood up straight, using the
shovel as a cane. He looked at the others.

“Wow,” Billy said. “That was one big
mother!”

“Well, if we’re ready, we should be going,”
Martha said.

“Let me just grab a couple gas cans,” Alan
said. Not more than a few seconds later, footsteps rang out.

A tall and lanky zombie surprised the group
from behind, and two smaller zombies came from the same side as the
fat zombie. The shorter of the two slipped on the fat zombie’s
blood, regained his footing, and advanced on Phil. Phil tensed up
with the metal rake he’d grabbed, waited for the zombie to get
close, and brought the rake in sideways, aiming for the throat. The
zombie stumbled, screaming and bleeding. It fell, and Phil went in
again.

When the lanky zombie was within range,
Emily lifted the bat and swung. The bat shattered against the
zombie’s temple, and the creature fell to the ground. Emily
squeezed the handle in two clenched fists and stabbed the
splintered end into its neck. She repeated the action a few more
times, leaving the zombie’s neck tattered and its head barely
attached.

The third zombie avoided the rake and got
hold of Phil. Its mouth hung just above Phil’s naked forearm,
quivering and open as blood-infused saliva dripped onto Phil’s
skin.

Francine rushed to Phil’s side and swung a
garden hoe downward into the zombie’s head. After the zombie fell
to the ground, Francine ripped the bloody hoe out, backed up, and
took a deep breath.

“Let’s… get out of here!” she said.

The others recovered themselves. Emily
grabbed a shovel to replace the bat, Alan grabbed two gas cans, the
group gathered their things, and everyone rushed to the front of
the store. With a cart full of food and medical supplies and
several gardening tools, they dashed through the OUT door. Everyone
helped pile the supplies into the trunk of Alan’s car, and then
they climbed into their seats and were off.

Martha sat, breathing shallowly, with her
picture frame on her lap, tilted upward so she could catch a memory
without drawing too much attention.

She smiled, then sighed and looked out the
windshield. They drove toward the east entrance of the parking lot,
exited, and continued their journey down Pacific Highway.

50

Backtracking, No Longer Alone

Zoe was beaming with joy as she and Derrick
walked back down the road. They stayed in the street rather than
along the side; Zoe had been there before, after all, and figured
it would still be safe.

“So where did you come from?” Derrick
asked.

“Chicago,” Zoe said. “I was on a bus. It
crashed just outside of town.”

“We’re headed back that way, you know.”

“That’s okay. I don’t have anywhere specific
in mind.”

It was overcast again, and the smell of rain
sprinkled the breeze.

“Maybe we should find a nearby house, in
case it rains,” Derrick said. “There’s one right there.” He pointed
to a house familiar to Zoe; she had stayed in it the night before
last.