Least Likely To Survive (6 page)

“Thanks.”  He opened the chamber of the shotgun, and checked the shells.  “This is a fucking spectacular gun.  Shooting it is going to be fun.”  He looked up at me grinning like a mischievous kid about to do some damage.

I just shook my head at him.  “Come on, let’s go.” 

We both looked out all the windows, making sure we were still alone after being parked all night, and still no signs of life.  After nodding to each other that the coast was clear, we opened our doors and hopped out into the morning sun.

The view was amazing.  The horizon was painted soft shades of orange and pink, and the sky was nothing but blue vastness.  There was nothing much more than sand dunes as far as the eye could see; save for the cacti and bushes speckling the landscape.  This place was a true testament to the beauty of the southwest.  It was untouched by man, and all the fucked up things we bring.  It brought imagery of the old west, and wagon trails, and saloons, and gave me the urge to ride a horse as fast as the beast could possibly carry me.  I don’t think I had ever really stopped to think about the desert and how incredibly beautiful it truly is, but fighting for survival has a way of opening up your eyes to things you might normally miss. 

I stood there looking around for a few minutes while I thought about all this. I thought about the world we had built falling apart, and how amidst all of that destruction this place was still here, had always been here, and will likely still be here when we were all long gone.  I was grateful at that moment; grateful I had been here, had seen this place, and was now a part of it.

“So how do you want to go about this?” Jack had come to stand next to me during my inspection of the landscape.

Shaking out of my reflection, I looked up at him confused and asked, “Do what? Brush my teeth?”

“Well I’m quite certain you can manage that without assistance, but I meant should we stick together?  I mean, surely you have to go…” He trailed off with his eyebrows raised until I caught on.  He meant using the facilities.

“Okay, I know we just met, but it’s kind of an emergency situation, so I think the ‘buddy system’ should be implemented.”  I felt my cheeks grow warm at the thought of this Adonis watching me pee, but desperate times…

“Agreed.  Cover me, I’m going in.” He nodded in agreement and walked to the nearest bush, turned his back to me, and went about the task at hand.  I stood there awkwardly, trying not to stare, and instead kept my eyes surveying the scene around us.  I heard him finish and zip back up, so I felt it safe to look at him again.

“Uh, okay, just keep your back to me please,” I pleaded, and Jack thankfully obliged by turning away from me.  I walked to the front of the Hummer, undid my pants and slid them down.  This was no easy feat strapped to the nines with guns, but somehow I managed to get my pants low enough I wouldn’t splatter.  I grabbed the grill of the Hummer to stabilize myself, and went about my business.  Again, no toilet paper; I shook dry and put myself to rights. 

“All done,” I called out as I fiddled with my zipper and walked back around the car.

He turned around to face me, saw where I had been and apparently figured out how I had completed my task, as he started laughing at me.  “Fuck I’m glad I’m not a woman.  Pissing outside must be miserable for you,” He shook his head in apparent amazement over the trials of womankind.

“We do what we must.”  I ignored his merriment and leaned back into the car to grab the water bottle.  Opening the toothpaste, I squeezed some on the brush, capped the tube, and threw it onto the seat.  After I was done, I rinsed out my mouth and spit into the sand, then rinsed off the brush.  I noticed Jack watching me with longing the whole time.  I wasn’t really fond of sharing my toothbrush; in fact the thought kind of made me want to gag, but again, I felt selfish.  Always one to please: “Do you want to borrow my toothbrush?”  I held it out to him.

His eyes lit up and he snatched it from my hand like I was handing chocolate to a girl with PMS.  Handing over the paste and the bottle, I let him go about his oral hygiene while I decided to rummage through the car.

“So I figure if we drive straight through, as long as nothing awful happens, we can make it to Corpus by late afternoon.” I was talking to him over my shoulder as I rearranged the backseat so that everything I thought we would need while on the road was in easy reaching distance.

He spit out the water that was in his mouth, and handed the items back to me, so I could zip them back into the bag I was sorting through.  “Corpus?  Is that where you want to get a boat?  And which island did you have in mind?”  He was standing next to me watching as I arranged and took note of our food stock.

“Sandy Cay.  It’s in the Sea of Abaco in The Bahamas.  It’s only about 9 acres and is conveniently for sale at the moment.  It comes equipped with everything we need, and about four houses; which we don’t.”  I tossed this information at him while I continued to inventory our supplies.  Counting the food I had acquired, and the stuff already in the car, I figured we had enough to last the two of us about a week, which would be helpful if we could manage to get it all into the boat, but it still wasn’t enough to get all the way to the island.

He leaned up against the door next to me, and crossed his arms over his chest.  “So you just happen to know which islands are for sale at any given point in time?”  I didn’t miss the skepticism in his voice.

I heaved a sigh of exasperation, put down the can of pears I was holding and looked directly at him.  “No, but I did take a minute to Google it before I lost internet, including the distance from Corpus so I could calculate travel time.  Once we start sailing, if we sail 24 hours a day, it will take about 10 days to get there.”

I reached into my bag, and pulled another Atlas out, which was one of the books I had snagged from home, and showed it to him.  “This Atlas is nothing but maps of the Caribbean, The Bahamas, Cuba, and Turks and Kakos.  Flip to the one of the exodus in The Bahamas and see for yourself.”

Jack flipped the book open and glanced at a few pages.  “Do you travel a lot?”

“No, I’ve never been out of the states, but have always wanted to see the Caribbean.  A zombie apocalypse was not exactly the circumstances I was hoping for, but I guess it will have to do.”  I finished taking inventory, and backed out of the car, closing the door.  “We need to hit the road.  We still have a lot of ground to cover, and I really don’t want to have to stop for the night again.” I looked up at him and waited for him to finish scanning the maps.  The sun was glinting off his hair, setting the natural-looking highlights on fire.  My breath caught in my chest at the sight.  I understood why he was so famous, there just weren’t words for how incredibly handsome he was.

He closed the book and handed it back to me.  “Why don’t I drive.” It wasn’t a question.

I stared up at him, and couldn’t hide my outrage.  “Is something wrong with my driving?”

He grinned and winked at me. “No, Ang, there is nothing wrong with your driving.  But I enjoy it and would like to take the next leg.  Besides, you drove all day yesterday; it’s my turn.”  I couldn’t fault his logic, especially as I wasn’t fond of driving in general.  Plus it would give me a chance to study the maps further, and figure out how we would get all this crap from the car to a boat without being attacked.

“Fine, but it wouldn’t have killed you to ask instead of just telling me.”  I turned around without waiting for his response and stomped around the back to the passenger side.  After opening the door and climbing into the seat, I slammed it shut, and sat back with my arms folded across my chest.  I didn’t want him to not pick up on my irritation.  “And quit calling me
‘Ang’
.  It sounds like a venereal disease.”

“Fine, sorry,
Angie
.”  He chuckled as he climbed into the driver seat, shut the door, buckled his seat belt and turned to face me.  “So which way?”

I had just finished unhooking the gun harness, and was setting it on the floorboard.  Looking up I nodded my head towards the direction we had been heading the night before. “Just get back on the road and follow it.  We’ll be crossing into Texas soon, and then I’ll give you directions as we go.”

“Okay.”  He steered us out back onto the deserted highway and continued down the road we had been following the night before.

After a few minutes of silence, I plugged my IPod back in and started scrolling through the playlists, finally settling on one.  As Tom Waits’ ‘Bottom of the World’ filled the speakers, I again reached for the Atlas, and began to study the roads that would take us where I wanted to go.

“I’m surprised you didn’t pick some famous person’s island to go to; wouldn’t that have better accommodations?” Jack glanced at me briefly before settling his eyes back on the road ahead.

“Why?  Believe it or not, not everyone is entranced with celebrities.  I was more focused on a place that would be empty, rather than meeting someone.  Notice I haven’t exactly
fawned over you
.”  I stared at the maps, and started to wonder if maybe I had been too quick on the whole ‘down to earth and human’ summation I had made the day before.

Sure, he was a mess when Steve died, but his arrogant side certainly liked making appearances.  Then again, it could just be his defense mechanism; the guy’s life wasn’t exactly ‘normal’.  At least not like mine.  And wasn’t I doing the same thing with my sour attitude?

“Don’t be so surly, I wasn’t trying to be smart.  I just figured most girls in this situation would want to go to, say, Johnny Depp’s island or something.” He turned back to the road with a casual shrug.

The thought had occurred to me, but I wasn’t about to admit that.  “I didn’t pick his island for a few reasons.” I turned to him and held up a finger. “One: it’s huge.  There is just too much acreage to be defensible.  Two:” I stuck another finger up, “What if he’s there?  I don’t want to kill Johnny Depp; zombie or not.  Same reason I didn’t go and find anyone I knew before leaving.  Just killing the couple of people I sort of knew on my way here was hard.  I happen to admire his work, so meeting and killing Zombie Johnny Depp would kind of suck.  Besides, if he owns an island, he’s probably heading there anyway as the world
is
ending and all.”

He didn’t answer right away, just looked at me for a minute before looking back at the road.  “I can see that.  I’m sort of glad it went down while I was on set; at least I wasn’t at home with my friends, or something,” he shuddered slightly before finishing.  “Fuck, the idea of taking down my housekeeper gives me the chills.  I love that woman.”

“Your housekeeper?  Don’t you have a wife, or a girlfriend, or kids, or something?”  The shock on my face was more than I could hide.

I saw his eyes narrow as he fashioned a frown.  “No.  I had a girl, but we split some time ago.  It’s just been me for a while now.  Was there anyone special you left behind?”  For truly, he was the king of subject changes.

I let out a bitter chuckle, “Nope, been alone for a few months.  And thankfully so, considering.”  Never had I looked upon my lack of love life as a good thing up until this very moment.  It’s a lot easier to get gone when you don’t have someone who loves you to worry about.  Who knew being single would be my saving grace?

We were silent after that, so I reached over to the pack of smokes, pulled one out and handed it to him.  Wordlessly he accepted it and we both lit up.  After a few drags I felt a little more myself.  Apparently my sour attitude just needed nicotine.

“I still can’t believe you stopped to grab smokes while running for your life.  Now that’s fucking dedication,” He said after a few puffs, and not without a little laugh.

“I may not have had anyone special to worry about escaping with, but in my defense Marlboro never forgets my birthday.  They send me a gift every year,” I couldn’t help but laugh with him at my frivolous acquisition of tobacco.

Turning to me, I could hear the horror in his voice. “What the fuck are we going to do when we run out?”

I looked over at him, and with the straightest face I could muster, “I’ll just have to kill you so that you don’t drive me crazy.”

His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked mildly concerned for a moment.  “Don’t say that; you look fucking scary, and I’ve seen you handle a shotgun.”

Sitting back with a smug smile, I had to congratulate myself on completely freaking him out.  He was going to be fun.

The hours passed.  I kept track, or didn’t; I wasn’t real sure at that point.  It’s odd how when shit really starts to hit the fan, and you know you’re running for your life, you start to lose track of time.  It just didn’t matter anymore. 

We had spent our lives on the constant watch of time; spending it, saving it, wishing we had more, wishing we had less, and for what?  We destroyed ourselves anyway.  So no, time was no longer relevant.

I wanted to think I was remaining optimistic that someday I would be watchful of time again, or it would at least matter, but I was beginning to accept everything had changed.  In just a few short weeks, the whole world was a completely different place and damned if I knew how I would fit into it.