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Authors: Nathan Barnes

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Chapter Eleven

 

Darkness
rapidly descended on them. Dusk took hold with the assistance of smoke from far
away fires. Ashy clouds hugged the sky, skewing the line between afternoon and
evening. Less than half a day on that bridge felt like weeks. Streetlights that
normally illuminated the passage remained unlit. Light came from random cars
that risked depleting their batteries in favor of breaking the unnerving dark.

 

The
majority of the retreat members were ushered back on board the bus. A curfew
hadn’t been discussed when they made their rules. At the time, none of them
could fathom still being stuck on the bridge by then. As the hours of the day
ticked on, they knew they’d be there for the duration of the night. Frank
turned the engine back on for fifteen minutes to give the batteries a boost.
Their hope was that the re-illuminated bus would cue anyone still outside in
the rapidly fading light that it was time to return.

 

“We’ll
have to tap into the food stores meant for the retreat site,” Frank announced
out the open door, his first words since his bathroom break. “I assume you can
handle that Paul?”

 

Paul
remained at his post outside the door watching for the few stragglers still off
the bus. Jessica assumed he must have saluted, or something, in response
because Frank tossed a set of keys in his direction. “The far compartment on
the side has the long term food stores. Pastor Doug decided to keep most of the
goods on our rig
;
lucky for us. Don’t go too heavy on
the portions. We
gotta
eat but we also
gotta
make it last.”

 

Conversation
started up around them about trading food for use of one of the many camping
stoves that popped up throughout the bridge. The retreat has a full propane
setup, meaning they hadn’t planned for food preparation on the go. With some
minor rationing restraint implemented their ready-to-eat fixings would last a
couple days, longer if need be.

 

A man’s
voice closer to the bathroom spoke up, “some of these people are very kind. I
spent a good while talking with a family that has a two-burner stove. They were
headed to a campsite in Amelia. I’m sure they would help us.”

 

“In
return for what?” Snapped back a woman on the right side. Doubtful murmurs
joined her skepticism.

 

“The
Christian thing to do is….” started another voice before it was cut off by the
skeptical woman.

 

She
retorted, “I don’t think the ‘Christian thing to do’ matters when dead people
are walking around and the whole world is falling apart.”

 

Ava
looked to Jessica, worried from the hostility that freely flowed between the
people they were stuck with. “It’s okay. Earmuffs,” she mouthed to the little
girl while miming the motion.

 

“Jesus
came back to life!” Argued the original man.

 

The
skeptical woman scoffed, “Don’t fool your self! Jesus didn’t try to eat every
damn person around him. Besides, our money paid for that food. We paid to
survive this mess. We can’t trust anyone outside this bus. I sure as hell won’t
share what little we have.”

 

Paul reentered
carrying a box of edibles. Immediately sensing the tension in the air he tried
to calm the group by saying, “Settle down, everyone! We’re a family here. I
know we’re also hungry and tired. It has been a heck of a day but we cannot
start turning on each other. If we’re still here by this time tomorrow then we
can debate whether or not to reach out to our fellow bridge neighbors. For now
I think it’s best to keep our affairs separate. The whole point of this retreat
was to separate
ourselves
while this crisis settles.
Let’s keep that in mind no matter where we are.”

 

Mumbles
of agreement sounded throughout the cabin. A few passengers stood once their
leader set the box of goods down at the end of the aisle. Jessica knew they
were going to assist with food distribution so she decided to lend a hand, thus
ensuring Ava would receive an appropriate portion. Rationing was a simpler
concept for adults to grasp; with Ava being the only little one with a giant appetite.

 

Quiet
returned to the bus as they ate a dinner of cold turkey tortilla wraps and
washed it down with small bottles of apple juice. It was an eerie silence, an
undeniable anxiety that felt like the calm before the storm. Jessica instructed
her voracious daughter to pace herself in order to limit any chance of an upset
stomach. Ava bobbed up and down in her seat feeling very content with a full
belly. By now she had examined every inch of her lengthy storybook twice. She
carefully opened up a box of twenty-four crayons to begin coloring a
masterpiece in one of her three coloring books.

 

Some
conversation picked up when meals were finished. The topic of their current
situation had gotten old after being on the bridge for most of the day. It was practically
taboo to speak louder than a whisper on the topic of the pandemic. Most in the
bus still had hope of reaching the retreat. Faith remained potent enough that
even talking about the tragedy of the morning was deemed taboo. They couldn’t
speak of the grim surroundings because it was all viewed as temporary.

 

Jessica
stared out the window trying to ignore the voices behind their row. On the
horizon past the towering railroad bridge the horizon glowed from festering
catastrophe. Death clawed through the streets of their city yet the isolation
of the bridge-empowered denial. She saw it and felt sickened by the chipper
denial of the others. For the first time she began to wonder if they’d ever
make it off the bridge. If need be she would take Ava and they would walk. They
didn’t need these other people; if they were together then the rest would be
figured out.

 

“Mommy….”
Ava said, pulling Jessica out of her thoughtful trance.

 

She
turned to see the little girl had stopped coloring and was staring out the
window just as Jessica had been. In a soothing whisper she answered, “what’s
wrong baby?”

 

Pointing
her tiny petite finger she asked, “
what
’s that weird
glowing I see over there?”

 

“Um….”
she hesitated, “people are probably camping out with the power being out. If we
weren’t on the bridge then I’d definitely be up for roasting some
marshmallows!”

 

Ava
smirked, not fully buying her mother’s explanation. “It’s so dark outside. Why
do I keep seeing that yellow light flashing?”

 

The girl
is perpetually curious. Jessica loved that quality in her. Thankful that the
conversation had moved on from the destruction that took place on the horizon,
she replied, “
those
are called hazard lights. Cars
turn them on when they are in trouble or when they want other cars to see them.
I think people are trying to save their car batteries but also don’t want it to
be completely dark on the bridge.”

 

Ever
intuitive, Ava asked, “
does
that mean that we’re in
trouble?”

 

Jessica
thought for a moment. She knew that putting on the positive mask used by
everyone around them couldn’t hold up the way things were going. If they were
having this conversation in their private room at the retreat then she might
try to put off the frightening truth a little longer. Now, after nearly ten hours
on the bridge, she knew that she had to answer honestly. “I don’t know baby
girl. Today hasn’t exactly gone as planned. What I do know is so long as I have
you with me, everything will still be okay.”

 

A little
hand fell over hers and squeezed. Jessica’s heart fluttered over the mature
gesture from her precious thing. Then she sweetly whispered, “we’re partners so
I know it will be good. I love you mommy.”

 

She
brushed a curl of hair off Ava’s forehead then planted a kiss beneath it. They
were quiet for another ten minutes. With it being so close to normal bedtime,
Jessica thought Ava had fallen asleep. Right when she started to doze the tiny
voice came back, “do you think they are hurting?”

 

“Who? The
people in the first bus?”

 

“No….”
her voice wandered away.

 

Any
relaxation she’d allowed herself was gone in an instant. She waited for the
girl to continue her question but nothing happened. Lightly petting her hair
again she probed, “come on sweetie. If we’re partners then you need to talk to
me. Do I think
who
is hurting?”

 

“The sick
people. You know, the ones that turn into monsters.” Ava was barely audible,
whispering like the words would get her in trouble.

 

“I don’t
think so. By then I don’t think they hurt any more.”

 

“Then…”
she paused trying to select the right way to say it, “why are they so angry?
Why do they try to hurt people who aren’t sick?”

 

Jessica
spoke louder to redirect Ava’s thinking, “close your eyes and try to get some
sleep. I don’t know the answers to your questions. But I do know that questions
like that aren’t going to help you rest. When we make it to the retreat site we
can talk about this as much as you want. Right now let’s focus on happy
things.”

 

Paul came
down the aisle then. He paused at any row that wasn’t quietly resting. “Evening
ladies,” he said leaning towards them to not bother the sleeping row behind
them. “Frank says we should save the battery so we’re going to go lights out.
It’s close to 10 o’clock. An early bedtime will do us all some good after the
day we’ve had. If ya’ll have to use the facilities just try to keep it quiet.”

 

Ava
tucked her coloring book in the pouch ahead of her. Paul got a little close to
her and whispered just loud enough for the two of them to hear, “it’s Ava,
right?” She nodded so he went on, “Ava I think you’re likely the bravest little
thing around - definitely the bravest on this bus. You keep being brave,
alright?”

 

He
expected a smile that didn’t come. Instead an all too grown up voice answered a
simple, “yes sir.”

 

This
didn’t please the well-meaning man. Taking charge of the retreat had given him
a desperately needed distraction from the guilt he felt for loved ones left
behind. He’d noticed Ava this morning; she reminded him of his niece. What he
noticed most was the fact that in spite of everything they had endured today,
she never shed a single tear. When he felt himself falling into a deep pit of
despair he turned to see a five-year-old girl facing the end of days with a
smile.

 

Jessica
lovingly ran her fingers through Ava’s hair. Paul felt the love between them.
The bond between the dynamic mother/daughter
duo
was
stronger than the apocalypse. Ava was strong for her mommy, who in turn
desperately fought to be strong for her. He smiled and added, “can I trust you
to keep that mommy of yours under control?”

 

Finally
Ava giggled. Her soft giggle sweetly warmed everyone around them. All day they
heard whispers, anger, sobs and cries. It was easy to forget how magical a
giggle can actually become. Paul felt accomplished and moved onto the next row.
Ava leaned against Jessica’s shoulder. A faint snore soon indicated sleep at
last won the battle with the brave little girl.

 

Exhaustion
struck the young mother with a potent quickness. She was ready to be done with
this day, to be done with this trip. Thoughts of what the next day would bring
terrified her more than dwelling on what had already occurred. The bus-darkened
bus felt oddly claustrophobic. Looking through the tinted glass windows had the
same false comfort as peering through the bars in a shark diving cage. Her
thoughts exploited the tired contemplation to shake her resolve. They raged, “
I trusted my daughter’s safety in a box with
half inch thick walls. What the hell was I thinking?

 

Stress
from the needless evaluation of their circumstances was exhausting. Jessica was
drained, physically and emotionally drained. She would have rather sat through
her own wake than cope with the pent up worry for another minute. A wet spot
formed on her shoulder where Ava’s drooling mouth rested. Finally her brain shut
down, succumbing to slumber.

 

Chapter Twelve

 

If it
were any other day, the sun would have been blinding by then. The massive
trench carved out of the trees by the James River creates a perfect line of
sight for the rising ball of burning gas in the sky. Their parking spot on the
bridge should have placed them directly in that line, bathing the side of the
bus opposite to where the two girls slept in morning light. Of course, this
wasn’t just any other day.

 

Light
returned to the area at an unnaturally slow rate. Daylight gradually escaped
the chokehold of night an hour after the sun’s true custody began. Night, aided
by pollutants thrown in the air by a crumbling society, stubbornly clung to the
landscape. For an hour past sunrise the haze refused to allow diurnal creatures
their natural right to flourish. Where as, the unholy nocturnal ones rampantly
spread in areas not too separate from the river crossing.

 

Jessica
awoke in a
groggy
fog. Ava was
wide
awake
, waiting patiently for her mother to return to the living. A
familiar smell entered her nostrils. “Why does it smell like…” she mumbled
before getting interrupted.

 

Ava
chimed in, “like bacon? It IS bacon silly.”

 

Her mouth
was dry and sticky. It felt like the corners of her lips were glued together as
she spoke. A little hand passed a water bottle over from which she took a
generous sip. “Thanks baby. Who has bacon? It smells amazing.”

 

“A car
over there,” Ava said while pointing ahead and to the right, “has camping
stuff. I think they are cooking it.”

 

The
thought of someone frying a pan of bacon in the traffic jam was as interesting
as it was peculiar. She wondered what other varying levels of disaster
preparedness their fellow gridlock neighbors had. Then she noticed how alert
Ava was and asked, “
how
long have you been awake?”

 

“I
dunno
,” the little girl answered sheepishly, worrying about
getting in trouble for being up so early. “Noises outside woke me up. I’m
sorry.”

 

Jessica
kissed her head and reassured, “it’s fine. Just know we’re not skipping nap
today, alright?”

 

She
sighed heavily, “
yes
mommy.”

 

Soon the
whole bus began to rise. Most non-whispered comments were centered
around
the topic of the heavenly aroma leeching into their
cabin from several car lengths ahead. A steady procession to the facilities in
the rear continued for an hour until they were all awake. Increasingly
disgruntled conversation hinted that cabin fever was more prevalent than
sunlight. Paul stood at the front partaking in a one-way conversation with
Frank. He watched his assigned flock with a curious eye. It didn’t take long
for attention to turn to their appointed leader.

 

The woman
with the heavy New York accent asked, “how are we handling breakfast?”

 

“When can
we get some fresh air? With all the walking back here I’m not exactly smelling
the bacon you all are yammering on about….” said a man near the bathroom who
wasn’t exactly trying to hide his displeasure. A cabin-wide chuckle answered
his sarcastic plea.

 

Paul knew
it was time to assert control, “good morning! I hope you all slept well.
Although the conditions aren’t ideal, I appreciate you all committing to a
night of rest that we all sorely needed. God has blessed us with another day on
this Earth.” He paused unnecessarily to let his supposedly profound statement
sink in. Jessica rolled her eyes at the speech; Ava caught her in the act. Then
Paul went on, “I know breakfast is at the top of our to do list - our camping
neighbors out there have certainly reminded us of that!”

 

Frank
stood up, startling Paul with a hand placed on his shoulder. He pushed the man
a few inches to the side in order to speak past his large frame, “enough
already, Paul. These people are too hungry to listen to your standup routine.”
Stifled laughter confirmed the bus driver’s jab.

 

The large
man’s face turned so red that Jessica expected to feel the heat radiating off
him from their seat. He stuttered something incomprehensible. “Now, now,” Frank
toned down the sarcasm, “I didn’t mean to pick on you.... Right now I need a
smoke break more than breakfast. So why don’t I step out to check the area?
It’ll nip this raging headache I got while setting y’all up for breakfast. You
can close the door behind me then I’ll come knocking with an all clear. But hey
- you’re in charge, so it’s your call.”

 

Tempers
cooled. Paul’s shoulders rose with some return confidence. His teeth showed in
a goofily proud smile, “don’t you know smoking isn’t good for you?”

 

“If a
cigarette is what does me in, then I’ll be the luckiest guy still
breathin
’.” Frank said dryly while operating the crank for
the door.

 

The
change in pressure from piercing their nightlong bubble of air reminded Jessica
of takeoff in an airplane. Air wafted inward carrying hints of a far away burn
highlighted by the previously tantalizing odor. Frank exited then Paul promptly
secured the door. His nervousness showed in his stance with a steady tapping of
his foot and sweat dripping from his brow. A hushed tension hung over the
cabin. They wanted time out of the bus almost as much as they wanted to begin
the day with a proper meal.

 

Two or
three minutes later a hand slapped twice against the glass door. The suddenness
of the sound caused Jessica to jump as two rows back someone let out a startled
gasp. Visibly relieved, Paul announced, “
that
’s the
all clear ya’ll. Let’s go set up breakfast! The rules from yesterday still
apply. Stick with your buddy and stay close if you
wanna
eat.”

 

Jessica
tried to see over the other side to get a fix on where Frank was. A plume of
smoke, exaggerated by the cool morning air, gave his location away. She
wondered how much the man actually checked the area for safety. Something about
that morning didn’t sit right with her. Her hand wandered into the bag with the
.38 special
revolver
. The smooth metal contours were
cool to the touch. Paranoia urged her to pocket the weapon.

 

It wasn’t
until she saw the vast majority of their fellow bus mates bundling up for a
trip outside that she decided to keep the gun in its place. “
Safety in numbers,”
she thought. Prying
eyes on judgmental people worried her more than any nearby infected creatures.
Ava took a cue from the others and zipped her coat.

 

“Ready,
Mommy?” asked the eager young lady.

 

She
nodded with a fake smile. “Let some of the others out first. Then we’ll go.
There’s no rush; plenty of breakfast to go around.” A line of people quickly
formed beside them. It wasn’t until a dozen of their group had exited that
Jessica gave Ava the go ahead. In a brightly colored blur the girl made it to
the door. Jessica had to sprint to catch up. Semi-scolding, she reminded, “
slow
down, baby girl. Remember that you’re my buddy. We’re
in this together.”

 

A light
breeze greeted them instantly out the door. Sounds of mingling gridlocked
neighbors blended with the persistent trickle of rapids beneath them. Pops of
far away gunfire were hardly discernable over the morning refugee symphony. At
first glance, the uniformed might think they’d entered a massive tailgating party.
Closer inspection revealed the scenario for what it truly was. Gloom from a
burning cityscape stained the sky on the side of the railroad bridge. Amongst
the social gatherings of over packed vehicles was an occasional car locked
tight with a tired, solemn occupant leering at those walking around.

 

As Ava
urged Jessica towards the side of the bridge she took it all in. Her stomach
gurgled with hunger masking a pit of anxiety. This truly was the calm before
the
storm,
it was an emotionally
vampiric
realization. She felt like a patient waiting for a cancer diagnosis;
uncertainty over the inevitable certainty of demise. A nearby bout of laughter
broke her grim thought process. “
Snap out
of it, Jess. You can’t do this to her,
” commanded her thoughts. No matter
what happened to them, she was determined to be strong for her daughter to the
bitter end. Here of all places, a nervous breakdown wasn’t an option.

 

In
moments they reached the wall. Ava instantly found her place to peer over, not
wasting a moment of valuable sightseeing time. Slipping between one of the
slots formed by concrete and metal, she began to describe what was beyond the
bridge and far beneath them. Jessica still battled with the anxiety attempting
to cripple her from within. It muted her senses, numbing her to all things but
the thumping within her chest. Thoughts urging her to fight the mental fog
continued to reprimand her actions. The long steel rail topping the wall was so
cold to the touch when she placed a hand on it, trying to steady her wobbly
stance.

 

Then Ava
turned to tell her something about the river. Framed inside of a fuzzy purple
hood, her lips moved under a red nose. Words came out but to Jessica they were
unintelligible mumbles. She faked it by smiling and nodding. Ava continued with
a bit more vigor; pointing over the bridge. Assuming they were talking about
the river or some feature on the landscape Jessica said back, “I see, hon. Good
eye.”

 

For a
five year old, Ava was quite skilled in the detection of when an adult ignored
her. Again she said something and pointed. Her expression blended excitement
and trepidation. A disgruntled child proved distracting enough to add volume to
her mother’s deaf ears. Jessica still missed whatever was being said. She
watched Ava’s mouth, realizing that the same thing was being repeated. Focusing
on the repeated motion brought more volume. Finally she asked, “
what
is it, Ava? Why are you getting so antsy?”

 

At last
she heard most of the response. Ava explained, “
....in
the river! I swear, Mommy!”

 

“What’s
in the river?” Jessica moved to look over the rail as the little girl
innocently answered.

 

“The
people. They are swimming down there. Can you believe that
?!
I wish we could go swimming!”

 

A
generous contribution from regional rains turned the peaceful Richmond focal
point into a deluge. The water was the color of coffee with slightly too much
creamer added. Smoothed rocks that normally dotted the waters were obscured
from sight by the swollen rapids. Safety regulations are strictly enforced
during flood stages. Any native of the area knows not to willfully enter the
river during these times; there are better ways to kill
yourself
than that.

 

Jessica
knew this about the river. She was envious of Ava’s innocent naiveté because
she couldn’t escape the truth. A dreadful pit burrowed slightly deeper in
Jessica’s stomach as she peered over the side because she knew what was down
there before looking. The little girl was thankfully too intrigued to pick up
on her mom’s hesitation. “Do you see them, Mommy?” Ava persisted.

 

She
wished she hadn’t. Some sights cannot be unseen. Corpses littered the river
intermittently. They were all different, like rotting snowflakes trickling from
a putrid sky. Each had its own uniquely terrifying appearance emerging from the
caramel colored waters. Many splashed at the current in a bout of undead
confusion; their primal drive ill-equipped to process the predicament. More
simply floated along. It was difficult to tell if the still ones were
reanimated without any reaction to their bodies scraping against any larger
debris that normally belonged in a flooded river.

 

It was
inconsequential whether they were alive, dead or otherwise. In her
panic-stricken mind they were all components of a horrid torrent of souls that
would bubble up to consume all that she held dear. Jessica couldn’t let Ava see
this. The silly view of people swimming in dirty water was the one she needed
to keep. If the little girl looked any longer she might notice the missing
limbs and mangled faces. She pulled her stare away from the river, finally
releasing her held breath. Then her hand found a grip on the bright sleeve
covering Ava’s elbow.

 

“We don’t
need to look over the bridge anymore,” Jessica strongly suggested.

 

“Just a
little longer. Please, Mommy?” The little one tried to deploy her
weaponized
sad-puppy face. “It’s fun watching the silly
people.”

 

“No. Come
on, hon.”

 

She
whined, “
pleeeeaasseee
Mommy!”

 

Fire of
parental scorn burned in her eyes. “
No.

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