The Long Way To Reno (4 page)

            No
matter. There were other things to think about. I carefully made my way through
the darkness, grateful for the flashlight. It helped me see the green-taped
path that had been marked for pedestrians, to warn away big equipment vehicles.
It helped me maneuver through support beams and large cardboard boxes that we
pickers used to toss the surrounding confines of content we had to throw into
totes. More blood stains, gore, and I walked around most of it carefully, not
wanting to leave foot prints.

            I
had my jaw clenched the entire time, so when I finally made it to the security
point, I felt it relax as I pushed through the swinging door, out into the cold
hallway leading to the massive break room we used for our lunch, breaks. It was
so dark. So cold. I hesitated to go any further – in the break room,
there was broken windows and tossed tables. Chairs scattered everywhere.
Jackets lying on the floor. Blood everywhere. Splattered on the walls, the floor,
glass surfaces.

            I
eyed the windows nervously. I could see the outside world, and I could already
see my breath with every exhale. My skin broke out in goosebumps. I could
escape from there. But their conversation caused me to stall.

            ‘
Aliens’
?

            I
didn’t believe in zombies outside of fantasyland, but look what happened. How
hard was it to accept that there were these things, too? I swallowed hard. My
flashlight seemed so bright, so I cupped it with one hand. I couldn’t move any
further. The darkness and infinite possibilities of other dangers kept me
rooted to just outside the swinging door.

            I
could see the lights from the home improvement store next door. Those from
Walmart around the corner. It was like – things were telling me it was
okay out there, that things were somewhat normal. But I knew there wasn’t. I
kept seeing the guy look up – and it bothered me, because,
really
- ?

            An
alien invasion in Fernley? Hah! Fernley is such a hick-town, used mainly as a
truck stop area with all its gas stations and fast food places. It doesn’t even
have a mall, or clothing stores. So it would be laughable to think it was
something of interest to freakin’ aliens from another planet. Twenty or so
minutes away is a Naval Air Base. I wonder if that was slammed. Hawthorne,
Carson City have bases of some sort – I wish I paid attention as to what.
Marines? Air Guard? Something. God, my life was spent on comics and video
games, with makeup and fashion tying for third place. Absolutely useless. No
wonder my parents were so fed-up with me.

            As
I stood there, staring out those broken windows, I became aware of shuffling
movement outside. From the parking lot, outside of view. It was a large sound,
something that made me think of the thing in Silent Hill 2’s prison. A creature
with heavy footsteps and a low breathy sound, and I swear my entire body
seized. My heart thumped hard. My mind compared the noise and experience to
James Sunderland’s unseen tormentor and this one. The shift from pavement to
dirt told me I could be exposed to whatever it was that made the sound. Slowly,
I stepped back through that swinging door. I could still hear it.

            But
the footsteps faded. What
was
it…?

            My
mind couldn’t even conjure a picture of a thing that came from the sky, and I
decided I wasn’t ready to face it, yet.

            Once
I couldn’t hear anything more, my eyes fell onto the darkness of the 2
^nd
section of the warehouse. It was so thick and still that fear pounded on me
from a different angle. But then inspiration hit – I could look for my
keys. My keys to my car, which will take me to Reno, where I would go home and
be okay. Once I found my parents, I would be
okay
. If I happened to be
killed with them, it’ll be
okay
. Because I’ll be
with
them.

            It
hurt to breathe, because the thought of them hurt or dead made it difficult to
continue on. My mom, with her cackling laugh and sarcastic comments on my
uselessness; my dad, with his thin optimism in that I’d actually be successful
in life. Both of them hard on me for good reasons. Tears came to my eyes,
because I wanted to be with them so much; I wish I called in. Just handled
Dad’s irritation with my laziness and just stayed home. Slaughtered in our beds
together, rather than – than me being stuck forty-five minutes away in
stupid Fern-tucky.

            Then
I didn’t want to think of them being slaughtered in their bed – they were
alive, somehow, because Dad would make sure of it. He was a fighter. He was
always fighting with somebody.
Short man complex,
mom always said. My
confidence in them being alive was restored with just the knowledge of my dad’s
stubbornness and determination, and I knew I had to make it back to Reno.
Uncovering my flashlight, keeping alert to any noises or movements made in the
darkness, I started to retrace my frantic footsteps. The conveyer belts I’d
crawled under to avoid the zombies were in front of me. I crouched, shined the
flashlight around, and saw no present danger.

            With
another deep breath, I knew I had to go in deeper into the darkness, towards
the Gold and Green sections to go find my keys. With one shaking hand, I
withdrew the knife – held it in my right, and the left holding tightly
onto the flashlight. It was so still, growing cold, that I found it hard to
control my breathing. I knew I had to – I was about hyperventilating. I
wanted to look everywhere and anywhere, and found the darkness incredibly
frustrating. I was sweaty and shaky, and every step I took sounded so freaking
loud. The light bounced around as my hand shook, so I lowered my arm and pinned
the Mag-Light to my side, where it was better controlled. I clung awkwardly to
my knife.

            I
searched the pathways I’d taken in my frantic rush for safety and saw nothing.
Just bloodstains. Fallen totes. A pair of shoes. Someone’s work glove. What
looked like a wig hanging from one of the conveyors. I
hope
it was just
a wig.

            I
came across a body – it didn’t look real at first. It looked like someone
had just dropped to the ground in exhaustion. Knife shaking dangerously, I
hesitated to venture forward. I kept thinking the body would just explode
upward with a scream. At the same time, I was morbidly curious as to why it was
still there. The others reanimated and took off. Was this one just…in sleep
mode? Or something?

            It
was a guy, and I recognized him instantly. He often stocked the totes we
pickers needed near the conveyer belts, and I had never said anything to him
– just acknowledged him with a nod whenever I saw him. My flashlight
crept over him, over his awkwardly sprawled legs and tossed arms. My heart was
thudding hard against my ribcage. I held my breath, unsure if I actually wanted
to see this.

            My
knife shook and my wrist grew weak. I was sweating so badly that my shirt clung
to me, and the tactical vest was making it worse. When I spotted no obvious injury
on his body, I ventured forward. Lifted the light up towards his head.

            Well…where
should have been his head. There was nothing there. Just a mess where the neck
would have been.

            I
turned and vomited. Not much came up, so it stung as I tried to stop myself. It
went up my nose. I coughed and gagged and tripped over my own feet. My
flashlight fell out of my hand, and I hit the concrete with a pained cry. Panic
overwhelmed me, told me the guy was getting up. So I clawed the cold floor for
my dropped flashlight, picked myself up, and went running from him, further
into the darkness.

            Once
I reached Gold’s bottom level, I stopped to catch my breath. To hock up a
disgusting logie and spit away from me. Only I looked really stupid doing it,
because I normally don’t spit loogies. Spittle dribbled over my lips and chin,
and snot hung from my nose. I was so disgusted, wiping frantically at myself.

            The
light bounced everywhere, illuminating all sorts of books in the shelves around
me. The silence only amplified my attempts to clear my sinuses and my throat. I
coughed and spit onto the concrete. I then paused, cupped the light with one
hand, and listened hard for any sort of movement or sound. Nothing. I was
alone. It was so weird, so scary.

            The
darkness was so thick and full that the flashlight didn’t seem to do much
against it. Looking around, I spotted light far away from me, and realized it
was the open door leading into the 1
^st
section of the warehouse.
Nearly a mile away – this fulfillment center was nearly two miles long,
three wide – I wasn’t exaggerating the miles I walked per ten-hour shift.
I sniffled and wiped my nose with the back of one sweaty hand, and found the
staircase I’d used to come down. Taking every step carefully, I ventured upward.
I kept pausing to listen and look. I only heard my heart thundering loudly, so
I continued on.

            By
the time I made it onto the third level, I was slightly out of breath and had
to shake my legs out. They were stiffening up, and I was thirsty. I found the water
station on that level, and took some time to sip at a fresh cup of water. I
heard nothing but thick silence. It was so unnerving. There was never silence
like this – it’s impossible to fully describe. I finished my water and
flashed my light at the shelves open to me. They displayed sex toys, the
occasional book, cartons of snack food. I took a break from key searching to
rip open a carton of protein bars. Stuffed some in my vest and then continued
searching. I didn’t find them on that level, but I found a backpack, a bigger
first aid kit, a long sleeve athletic shirt that I immediately put on
underneath my Halo tee, and some orange juice. I had a warm juicebox while I
gathered some strength in heading down to the first level, to look for my keys
down there. Made plans to retrace my path from the Exit door to the Green
section.

            I
fixed my hair back into its updo, wondering if I should just hack it off. As I
was contemplating that, I heard a slip of sound that startled me into dropping
the flashlight. It clattered loudly onto the floor, and I nearly screamed with
surprise because it was really loud. The light rested on a set of shoes that
came to a stop near me. A set of shoes that belonged to a moving body, to
someone that
shushed
me. I nearly turned to run away like some startled
animal when he picked up the flashlight to show himself to me. It was another
shift worker, someone I’d seen occasionally as we switched picking sections.

            “Sorry,
sorry
,” he whispered, nearly blinding himself to show me he wasn’t a
creature. His voice didn’t match the guys I’d heard earlier, and as my heart
rate returned to normal, he gave a goofy sort of smile. He looked bloody and
gross, and I wondered where he’d hid to survive. If there was more like him.
“Hey, it’s okay. You scared me, too.”

            “
I
scared you?” I repeated, nearly hissing it. I snatched the flashlight away from
him, kept it centered on his chest. Damn it, he was taller than me, but not
exactly girl-protection material. He was scrawny, slight, with a cutesy face
rather than a mannish one. I still would have to depend on myself to survive.
Damn it.

            “Are
you with…you with Jeff and them?” he then asked, looking cautious about it.

            I
blinked because I didn’t know who Jeff was, and I shook my head. He looked
immediately relieved. “Who’s that?” I asked, keeping my voice at a whisper.

            “Teal
badge. Worked at the docks. He’s got people with him. He and these other guys
were killing off the infected.”

            I
stared at him, at the nervous dart of his eyes. He kept blinking hard, like the
light hurt him. So I shifted it to his mid-section. “You were here…all this
time?”

            He
pointed off to the side, then crossed his arms loosely without saying anything.
He looked me up and down while I tried to figure out what the gesture meant.
The tense expression he’d been wearing slowly turned to something of amusement,
relief. But also judgmental, like he was trying to figure out whether or not I
knew how to do anything.

            As
I started to relax, I remembered more about this guy. Me and another picker had
realized weeks earlier that this one looked like that guy from ‘Inception’
– the one that had his hair slicked back and had the awesome spinning
hall scene. I felt inwardly disappointed that he wasn’t the sort of man I was
looking for – he lacked muscles. A sense of commanding presence. He
looked like the sort that hid when men raised their voices in a bar, or shied
away from bloody MMA matches. I almost groaned and hoped he wasn’t going to be
an ally of sorts.