Least Likely To Survive (10 page)

At this point I think I decided he was kinda my hero.  But at the same time secretly hated him for being so pretty and so cool, and everything I wasn’t.  What a double-edged sword that was; hero worship tainted with jealousy.  I suppose that’s how most people feel about someone they admire: we love and hate them for being amazing, while wishing we could be more like them.  I had to admit I could see the person I wanted to be reflected in him, yet held out hope he would have a flaw that would make him a bit more real. 

“I need to use the restroom.”  Chloe finally spoke up and shattered the silence so abruptly I almost choked on my thoughts. 

Jack turned his head and looked at me after her statement, and I couldn’t stop the blush from creeping up my cheeks when he caught me staring.  Busted.  “Well, here is probably a good spot; doesn’t seem to be anything around,” He directed at me, as if asking my opinion.

“Yeah, looks good.  Go for it,” I managed to croak out once the bat lodged in my throat began to settle.

He eased his foot off the gas pedal, and started steering us over to the side of the road.  Once we were stopped, he popped the shifter into park, and turned off the ignition.  We all sat there for a minute, listening to the ticks of the engine as it tried to cool itself off, and studying the surrounding landscape for any sign of potential threat.  We were still out in the middle of nowhere; some miles outside of San Antonio, and there was nothing as far as the eye could see. 

On all sides I noticed there was a scattering of trees and grass, and somewhat rolling hills.  ‘Mounds of dirt’ was probably more accurate, but I suppose they could be construed as hills in these parts.  I was somewhat surprised to see grass and trees; seeing as this was Texas.  I would have thought it would be nothing but sand and cacti; apparently I had seen one too many stereotypical westerns.

After we bobble-headed it for a bit, we wordlessly determined it was as safe as it could be, started unbuckling seatbelts and climbing down from the car.

After hopping down, Chloe looked around again and said “I don’t see any restrooms around here, where am I supposed to go?” She looked at me expectantly as though I could magically make an acceptable restroom appear out of thin air.

I rolled my eyes before answering, “Pick a bush.  Or a tree.  It doesn’t really matter.”  I stretched out my arms, and shook out my legs.  Damn, battling zombies really had turned out to be serious cardio.  I lamented on not spending more time at the gym before all this started.

“A
bush
?!  How am I supposed to like,
go
, outside?!”  She stood facing me with her hands firmly planted on her hips and asked incredulously, like I had just suggested she grow another head.  I couldn’t suppress my giggle at her teen outrage.

“Come on, I’ll show you how to pee outside,” I shook my head as I chuckled and grabbed her arm to lead her out into the wilderness around us.  “Apparently no one ever took you camping.”

I led her a little ways out, where I spotted a cluster of trees surrounded by bushes that appeared to be pretty well secluded.  I felt like an owl trying to turn my head in all directions at once, looking for anyone that might be around, while also keeping a wary eye on the ground.  The ground was almost as important as looking for people, as getting bit or stung by snakes and scorpions and various other creatures wasn’t my idea of a party. 

After deeming we were relatively safe, and not seeing any danger, I stopped her by a tree.  “Okay, just grab a low hanging branch, and stick out your butt so you don’t splatter yourself.”  I proceeded to demonstrate as I unbuttoned my cargos, and assumed the position. 

She followed suit, and soon we were both hanging from a branch with our pants down.  This time I did suppress my giggle as I thought about the last time I had done this with another person.  It had been at a kegger in the mountains, and my best friend and I had been shit-faced as we dangled from a limb and commented in our drunken slur how pretty the moon looked. 

As the memory reel came to an end in my mind, I felt a lump form in my chest.  All those great little moments were lost now, as well as the people that came with them.  Our lives were irrevocably changed, and nothing we could do would put the world back to the way it was.  I knew no one could ever really know what the future has in store, but for the most part there used to be some consistency.  We knew we would get up the next day, and go about our business, and just live our lives in general.  But now all of that was gone.  I would never hear my alarm go off, and crawl out of bed grumbling as I headed to my day job as Tech Support.  I would never flip off another motorist who cut me off, or gripe about my utility bill. It hadn’t even been two days since leaving home and already I was starting to miss the little things.

“We don’t have any toilet paper,” dragged me back to reality.

I looked over at Chloe and shook my head as I replied, “We sure don’t.  Just kind of shake a bit.”  Again with the demonstrating as I did just that, stood and pulled my pants back up.

She did the same, while stopping to add her own brand of commentary, “There are little skulls on your underwear!”  She burst into a fit of giggles, as this was apparently the funniest thing in the world.

I shot her a death stare, and started to head back to the car.

“Aren’t you a little old to be wearing those?”  She asked as she trotted to catch up with me.

“This coming from someone wearing a Justin Beiber shirt?  Glass house, stones, Chloe.”

“So, um, is that really Jack Jones?” she tried to start nonchalantly, but I could hear the breathy sigh in her voice and hated that I totally agreed with her. “I thought I recognized him, but didn’t want to make a big deal…”  She trailed off as her head tilted to the side questioningly.

“Yep, that’s him.”  I answered with a sigh.  I knew where this was going. Her eyes took on a faraway, dreamy look as I waited for her to gush over how gorgeous he was, blah, blah, blah.  Because my own inner gushing wasn’t enough to deal with, now I had a tween adding a soundtrack to my thoughts.  I could almost hear the pop ballad begin to play in the background.

“Omigosh, he is
so
gorgeous!”  She swooned as we walked.  “I can’t believe Jack Jones saved my life; this is so cray-cray!  I wish Twitter worked so I could tweet all my friends; they would be
totes
jealous.”

I looked over at her silently, waiting for the lust to subside.  The stars in her big eyes and the little smile on her face said it all.  I didn’t want to admit the look on her face was actually the same thought I had had the day before when I first happened upon him, but I would take that fact to my grave. I also chose to ignore her use of pop culture grammar; afraid that acknowledging it would somehow rub off on me.  Zombies be damned; I’d rather be eaten than ever caught saying ‘cray-cray’.

“Yeah, I guess he’s okay.  Pretty decent with a gun, which is all I care about,” I finally answered with a shrug as she looked at me.

Stopping, she grabbed my arm, “Just
okay
?!  Even for an old guy, he’s still super hot!  If I were 18 I would
so
flirt with him.”  She shook her head to herself and looked at me like I was the weirdest thing she had ever encountered.

The whole world had been overrun by a virus that caused people to EAT PEOPLE, and I was weird for not agreeing with her.  I sighed internally at her version of priorities, and just stared at her silently.  There was a calculating gleam in her pale eyes, and I knew there was another layer to her behind the ‘teeny-bopper’ façade, and I couldn’t wait until her guard dropped and she let it out.  I couldn’t fault her for not wanting to tip her hand, but wondered if she knew how incredibly annoying the act was.  Realizing this, I suddenly felt sorry for any adult who had encountered me at that age, as I was sure I was probably just as irritating.

Chloe squinted at me for another moment, waiting for my commentary, and realizing none was coming, stopped talking as we resumed our trek back to the Hummer.

We reached the car as Jack and Ty were deep in conversation about the shell size for a nine gauge shotgun.  In a normal world, I would have thought this to be a strange topic for a 15 year old boy and famous movie star, but the world wasn’t normal anymore, and this was Texas after all. 

As I approached, I noticed Roscoe dutifully investigating a nearby shrub, before lifting his leg to do his business. I decided to let the guys be and wandered to the back of the car, opening the hatch.

I rifled through the food, and pulled out some jerky, fruit, and a few bottles of water.  Wordlessly I began handing out our impromptu lunch, and after some digging, found a bowl of sorts to fill with water for the dog.

I ripped open a bag of jerky, and threw some on the ground for him.  “
How the fuck are we going to get dog food?” 
I wondered to myself, as I watched him tear into the jerky greedily.  After pondering on that for a minute, I decided it really didn’t matter what he ate, or what any of us ate anymore, just so long as we ate something.  I didn’t suppose nutrition was going to be an issue with as much exercise running for your life was.  Damn, I really wished I had a box of Nutter Butters, seeing as how calorie counting was no longer on the agenda.

I sighed wistfully as Jack walked up to stand next to me.  “At some point, we need to find a gun shop.  We’re low on ammo.”  He said this to me as he grabbed a piece of jerky out of the bag I was holding and popped it into his mouth, chewing it thoughtfully.

Dread filled me at that statement.  Stopping for anything was rife with danger, and I wasn’t ready to do it again.  On the other hand, there was no way of knowing what awaited us in the cities, and we would need as many bullets as possible.  Fuck, it felt like I was living inside ‘Resident Evil’; wondering over my ammo count.

“How much do we have left?”  I looked up at him as the worry I felt bled onto my face.

His brows furrowed in thought as he mentally tallied up the results.  “Not much.  It’s tough to say, as we don’t know what the next encounter will entail.”  He paused for a minute, while still maintaining his frown.  I had to wonder if he dragged his speech out like this on purpose, or if it was just natural at this point from all the films.  I had never seen someone choose their words so carefully all the time.  He definitely knew how to keep you ‘anticipating with abated breath’.  “Guns.  Guns should be our next endeavor before we reach the city,” he finally got out, with a nod, as if this was the most logical answer to the current issue.

I collapsed on the edge of the trunk with an exhale of exhaustion as I considered his words.  I was tired, and dirty, and all I wanted was a shower and a cupcake.  I didn’t think I was really asking for much, especially considering all I had been through.  I looked up at him wordlessly, and apparently he could see the giving up look on my face.

“I know,” he started as he sat down next to me, giving his own sigh.  “I feel it too.  But we’re about to hit the city, and it’s imperative we have a plan.  It’s not just us we have to consider anymore,” he looked over his shoulder to where the kids were playing with the dog and eating their modest meals.

He faced forward again, and took off his hat to run his fingers through his hair.  I noticed he did this whenever he was exasperated, which after twenty four hours with me, was quite a bit.  “I was looking over the map, and there’s a little town not far, which will likely have a gun store.  I think we should head there first, and then continue on to San Antonio.” Jack reached into his back pocket and produced the map in question.  I noticed it was a pretty detailed map of Texas, with all the little towns laid out, and wondered where he had procured it.

“Where did you get that?”  I asked as I leaned over to see what he was pointing out.

“I grabbed it back at the gas station before we left.  Figured it would come in handy.”

I had to hand it to him; the guy was a magician, and way more prepared than I.  Well, at least somewhat; I
had
gone grocery
and
gun shopping before picking him up.  I listened as he continued in his deep, raspy drawl to outline his next line of thinking.  I really could listen to Jack talk all day; if the world ever righted itself, he should really consider doing audio books.

“After we acquire more weapons, I figure we can head here,” he pointed to a spot on the map in the heart of the city.  “It’s a U.S. Army headquarter in San Antonio, and I’d bet there’s probably survivors there.  With more guns.”

I looked where he was pointing, and knew he was right.  Although the fact that we would have to drive a meandering ribbon through the city was also somewhat concerning.  I remembered how Denver had looked; like the whole city was burning down, and thought San Antonio would likely be the same.  I didn’t really want to drive through what was for all intents and purposes a ‘war zone’, but thinking of Ty and Chloe, knew we had little other choice.

We didn’t speak for a while, just looked at the map while eating our jerky and drinking our water.  We didn’t have to; we both knew how dangerous this was going to be, and that it would be a miracle if we pulled it off.  What if we got there and the place was destroyed?  Or worse; what if there were no survivors left anywhere and we were left completely alone and responsible for children?