Unrest (13 page)

            
 
Moving at reduced speed they entered a tract of woods near the South Carolina border, letting Klaus direct them.

              “Are you certain this is the way?” Samir asked. Nothing but a narrow dirt and gravel road directed them through the cluster of trees crowding around them.

              “Yes, yes,” Klaus said. They live on the other end of these woods in a small suburb. It’s at least five miles from here. Just keep going.”

              They passed through what seemed to be endless forest, and encountered several large dead animals, including a deer and what looked to be a wolf. When they went a little further they saw a shambler walking amongst the trees. He nearly made it out to their narrow dirt road when Samir sideswiped him and pitched him back into the trees.

              There were dead bodies on the street where Klaus’s parents lived. No one alive or dead seemed to be walking around. Not a promising start by any standard. They parked on the curb, getting out of their cars to walk amongst the corpses.

              “Over there!” Klaus said, anxious now. The inner door was open. There was blood on the window screen wire netting. Klaus ran inside.

              “Wait!” Marina screamed.

              He ran through the house. There was no one in the kitchen, or the living room. No one until he reached the bedroom. The two of them lay there on the bed, his mother and father. It was clear they had both been bitten; his mother on the arm, his father on

the leg, but they were neither alive nor undead. His father had taken his gun and blown his brains out, and his mother had done the same.

              Klaus screamed, crying, as he leaned over and held their dead bodies to him. His cry attracted the shambler that was locked in the closet, and it managed to burst through. Klaus turned too late and it chomped down on his shoulder, just below his neck.

Marina walked in at the same instant, and shot the shambler in the head. The others were close behind.

              He fell back to the floor, crying out for his parents, crying in pain from his wound as he held his hand to it, and the blood sputtered out between his fingers.

              “Klaus!” Marina shouted. She kneeled next to him. The bite was deep. He was losing too much blood too quick, and of course there was no hope for him even if he survived the wound, but still she pulled the sheet from the bed to stem the tide.

              “They’re both dead,” he said. “And now I’m a goner too.”

              “It appears that way Poindexter,” Marina said lightheartedly, sympathetically.

              Klaus smiled up at her. “For Christ’s sake, I’ve told you not to call me th--”

              He closed his eyes.

              “Is he...?” Kamara began.

              Marina shook her head, feeling his pulse. “No, he just fainted.”

              He wouldn’t wake up again.

***

              The house was empty. Lupe looked in the fridge.

              “Anything?” Jomo asked.

              “Plenty,” Lupe said, “Most of it expired.”

              “I’ll check the cupboards.”

              Jomo found a jar of peanut butter, cans of tuna, a box of granola bars, and a can of chicken noodle soup. “We’ve got a few things here.” He looked in the drawers and found a can opener they could use. “We need a sack or something to put this stuff in.”

              “Check the lower cabinets. Maybe there are garbage bags.”

              “Bingo!” he said, finding a box of them. He filled one of the black trash liners with the goods. “And there’s room for more.”

              “Well, aren’t you excited about trash bags?” 

              “Where I lived, things like these were a novelty. I’d never even seen food in a can before America.”

              “I forget sometimes Jomo. You are so well educated.”

              “What better place for an education than the United States?” Jomo asked.

              Lupe gave him the thumbs up. “I’d drink to that if we had drinks, or glasses.”   

              “Do we need glasses? Because I saw some in the cupboards.”

              She laughed. “No, too easy to break when travelling, but if you find some Thermoses we could definitely use those.”                

              “It’s getting dark,” Lupe said, “Maybe we should just crash here.”

              “It’s not odd to you to sleep in someone’s home that they’ve abandoned?” Jomo said.

              “Come on, you slept in an abandoned convenience store.”

              “That’s different.”

              “How so?”

              “A man’s business is not his home. His home is

where he lives his private life.”

              “We’ll have beds, and showers.”

              “Okay, you convinced me.”

***

              The group left the room as Marina shot Klaus in the head. The report echoed through the house, making them flinch. She stepped outside to meet them. They stood leaning against the cars.

              “Are you all right?” Samir asked.

             
Of course she was all right. She was the only one the group could expect to do the dirty deed right?

              She held Klaus’s sword in one hand and the smoking gun in the other.

              “Yes,” she said.

              “Marina?” Ian persisted.

              “Damn it, I’m fine!” she screamed.

              “All right,” he said, backing off.

              She placed the sword in the trunk next to her shotgun and AK. 

              Xinga looked at Ian. He was shaking.

              She put her hand on his shoulder at once consolingly and uncomfortably.  

              “Klaus is dead,” Ian whispered to her. “His family is dead. What the hell hope do I have in Virginia?”

              Her large eyes were innocent, filled with depth and sympathy. She didn’t have to say a word, and

that alone made him feel better. And yet she spoke.

              “You will find your family alive. Have faith.”

              He nodded, holding back tears. “Thank you.”

              They buried Klaus in the yard behind the house. Ian turned to the rest of the group shouting, “Now let’s go kill some zombie motherfuckers!”

              “For Klaus!” Marina shouted.

              “For Klaus!” the others echoed.

***

THREE MONTHS EARLIER

FBI LABORATORY, DEPT OF RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT, MARINE CORPS BASE

QUANTICO, VIRGINIA

              “Now what is this supposed to do exactly?” Leonard asked.

              “This?” Dr. Fielding beamed brightly, “this may be the answer to every disease
ever
.  The cure for cancer, HIV, heart disease, you name it! What we’ve developed is so super rich in antibodies and disease eradicating enzymes, it will actually find what’s wrong in your body, target it and attack it! Best of all it’s safe for consumption.” He held up the beaker of fluorescent pink liquid, and Leonard looked at it, turning his head sideways and looking all around the glass container in awe.

              “But?” Diane interrupted.

              “Excuse me?” Dr. Fielding said. He looked at the young intern with what appeared to be concern.

              “But...” Diane repeated, motioning with her hands for him to continue. “There is always something else- isn’t there?”

              The doctor raised his index finger and his eyebrows and grinned widely. “Astute of you Miss Broadly. Yes, there is a but. We don’t know how to get it to stop attacking after it eradicates the bad cells. It starts to eat away at the good. We’ve tested it on bacteria, rats, and then sick monkeys, always with the same result. A miraculous cure, and then, sadly, a turn for the worse, when it kept eating away at

them.”

              “So what do you need from us?” Leonard Halpert, Diane’s professor of science inquired.

              “Ah, yes, to the point then,” Fielding said. “I need you to procure me something larger, something with more cells. Obviously a sick animal. I want to see if the process stops when more cells are added to the equation. Sadly, my funding here is limited, and I figured a man with your credentials wouldn’t have too much of an issue obtaining a specimen for scientific research.”

              Leonard carefully considered it. “If this thing can do what you say it can, then I will see what I can do.”

              “Excellent!” Dr. Fielding said. “Now does the young lady have any questions?”

              “No,” Diane said. “I pretty much got it.”

              Fielding nodded. “I’ll contact you in three days time if I don’t hear from you first,” he said to Leonard. “And I’ll arrange a transport if you need one.”

              “All right,” Leonard said, shaking his hand enthusiastically. “I’ll talk to you soon. I truly hope this works out.”

              “So do I,” Fielding said, “So do I.”

            
 
“Okay, now shift it into reverse,” Marina said.

Xinga did. “Back up slowly. Turn the wheel this way if you want to back up to the right, and this way if you want to back up to the left. Remember, everything is in reverse, so it’s the opposite of what you think it would be.”

              She backed up Samir’s car with him watching in the back seat.

              “Watch the fence! Watch the fence!” Samir said.

              “She’s got it,” Marina said. “Calm down. Now ease up Xinga. Okay, that’s close enough. Now straighten out.”

              Marina had set up two road cones she’d found along the highway, and set them up in place of cars.

              “Check your rearview, and your side mirror. Make sure you’re not too close to the cone. Easy, easy.”

              “I’m doing it!” Xinga exclaimed.

              Marina smiled. “Yes you are. Annnnnddd... Perfect!”

              Samir breathed a sigh of relief.

              “You have just parallel parked. That’s the toughest thing you’ll ever have to do in a car. The rest is a breeze.”

              She looked at Samir. “Really dude, it’s a car. The worst she could do is scratch it along the fence. It’s a mode of transport, that’s it.”   

              Samir shrugged. “Old habits.”

              Kamara and Ian who stood outside watching the performance clapped.

              “Much better than my first try,” Ian said.

“Gave that car, I mean
cone
a good two inches clearance. An actual car owner wouldn’t appreciate that but...”

              Marina chastised him with a look.

              “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You did good.”

              Xinga came out of the car beaming, inspecting her handiwork. “I didn’t hit the cone!”

              “The cone’s the hardest,” Marina said, “because they’re so low to the ground. An actual car would have been easier. But you passed, with flying colors my dear.”

              “Thank you for this opportunity,” Xinga bowed.

              “Aw shucks,” Marina said, “’Twas nothing,” she winked. “You ready to get it out on the road again?”

              “Yes!” Xinga said enthusiastically.

              Marina looked at Samir. “You go ride in Kamara’s car.”

              Samir huffed, “Fine. 

***

              Guadalupe woke up first. There were two eggs left that were not expired in the fridge and a pouch of Swiss Miss Cocoa in the cupboards. She made scrambled eggs and Hot Chocolate with tap water.

              She shook Jomo awake. “Come on, I made us some breakfast.”

              Jomo got up groggily and went to the table. “Yum, eggs!”

              “There were only two left so it didn’t make much, and there was only one pouch of hot chocolate mix so I had to split that. It’s going to be kinda light.”

              “That’s more than fine,” Jomo said. “I wasn’t expecting to have anything at all this morning.”

              She smiled.

              “Thank you,” he said.

              “You’re welcome.”

              They devoured the food. Afterward, they scavenged the bedroom dresser drawers and closets for clothes, each taking turns showering. Jomo let Lupe go first. She had a backpack in her car where she stowed a few changes of clothes, but none were fresh. She found something light that suited her- a white blouse, and a floral print rayon skirt that only came down to her knees, but it would do.

              It was when Jomo came out of the shower with jeans a size too large and baggy on him and a black t-shirt with bold white lettering proclaiming STUD MAN which was a size too small, that she burst out laughing.

              “Hi Stud Man!”

              “It was the best I could find.” He threw his hands up as if to say,
what are you gonna do?
And joined her with self mockery. “Thank God he had a belt!”

              “Yes, we should be thankful for that.”

              He picked his clothes up off the floor of the bathroom and held them in his hands.

              “I can put those in my backpack. I have plastic grocery bags to separate the dirty clothes from the clean,” Lupe said, “Though it’s pretty much all dirty at this point. Guess we should check if they have a laundry room before we head out.”

              There was one in the basement, and they made quick work of the laundry, only putting their clothes in for half a cycle. They realized water, like gasoline, was a luxury, and pretty soon both would run out. A hot shower was something neither of them would likely take for granted again. They drove all day along I-95, reaching the North Carolina border, only an hour after the friends they’d left behind.   

***

              From the passenger seat of Kamara’s car Samir stared at the vehicle ahead of them wide-eyed.

              Kamara laughed. “She’s doing fine.”

              Xinga had taken a shine to driving Samir’s car. Marina and Ian simply watched her.

              “You might wanna ease up a tad on the accelerator,” Marina said beside her. “Other than that you’re doing fine.”

              “What, are you expecting to hit traffic?” Ian said from the backseat.

              “No, but she’s doing 93 right now.”

              “Holy shit,” Ian said quietly.

              “Yeah,” she said. “I hadn’t noticed either because the streets are so empty, but what if we do hit some sort of roadblock? A car crash or one of
them
along a curve.”

              “I got it, I got it!” Xinga assured them. She’d already slowed down to 75.

              Ian thought of what happened to Jomo’s family and didn’t argue the point. It was better safe than sorry. He wanted to live to see his family in Virginia if he could. He didn’t intend to survive the shamblers only to get killed in a stupid car wreck that could have been avoided.

              A half hour later they did stumble upon something along the roadway.

              “What is that?” Marina said.

              Xinga shook her head, slowing further as they approached.

              They stopped thirty feet from the obstruction, getting out of the car. Kamara and Samir stopped behind them, leaving their vehicle as well.

              A deer lay on its side in the middle of the road. It had been disemboweled, what remained of its innards scattered about the highway. It looked as if it had died in severe pain, its mouth still open in a silent bleat of terror, its glassy black eyes panicked.   

              “Poor creature,” Ian said, “Looks like the shamblers made a meal of her.” It had no antlers and he could tell it was a doe.

              “We’ll have to move it off the road,” Samir said. “We should be able to between four of us.”

              There were woods to either side of them. They each grabbed a leg and lifted it, Xinga choosing to hang back away from the ravaged animal. She lay down in the backseat of Samir’s car.

              They hauled the animal into the woods where the deer would now be food for the flies and maggots.

Xinga laid on her back, breathing heavily, the car still running.

              The stranger came from the woods on the other side of the road. He was a large bellied burly man, wearing yellow and black checkered flannel, jeans, and muddy boots. Sweat poured from his balding head. He licked his chops at the empty vehicle with the purring engine. Someone must have abandoned it on the side of the road, Lord knew why, but this was his lucky day.  

              Heads shot up as the stranger’s foot went down on the accelerator, and the car sped off. The four in the woods dropped the deer where they were and ran to the road. Someone had hijacked their vehicle.

              “Hey!!” Samir said, “That’s my car!”

              “Where’s Xinga?!” Marina shouted.

              They got their answer soon enough when a dazed Xinga, who had been abruptly awoken, pressed her face and hands to the back windshield, her mouth open in a scream. The word she was saying was clear. “HELP!”

***

THREE MONTHS EARLIER

FBI LABORATORY, DEPT OF RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT, MARINE CORPS BASE

QUANTICO, VIRGINIA

              Fielding was awoken by a rapping at the door. He had a twin sized day bed at the lab tucked into the back in case he had a long night of working and was too tried to go home. This was one of those nights. He wasn’t expecting company. It was nearly midnight when he looked at his watch.

              The figure of a man stood behind the frosted glass in the door, and he opened it.

              “Hello,” a man in a tan military uniform stood at the other side. He appeared to be some sort of General or someone of high rank. “I’ve been tasked by the president to meet with you concerning the project.”

              “The president?” Fielding said, with some incredulity. “He knows about what we’re doing here?”

              “He does now. I hear you’re having some difficulty with funding.” A cadre of soldiers came up behind him, flanking the General.

              Dr. Fielding did not like this. He did not like this at all. “What’s the meaning of this?”

              “We’ve been sent to take over this operation, strictly in an advisory capacity you understand? It seems the president has further use for your serum.”

              “Further use, beyond its capacity to eradicate disease?” Fielding shook his head, but he could already tell where this was headed.

              The General nodded. “Field operations.”

              “Field...” the doctor began.

              “Weapons use. The president is more interested in its
destructive
properties, and so am I.”

              “Mr.-”

              “General Beaumont,” he corrected. “We’re just here to take a sample, for now. You can continue your work. The president will supply the funds for your new work to continue.”

              “My new work?”

              “Engineering it to destroy tissue at a more accelerated rate.”

              “You’re asking me to use it to kill?! I came here to save lives, not kill.”

              “Then you came to the wrong place Ted. That is your name right? Theodore Fielding?”

              “Yes.”

              “You work for the United States Military. This is a Marine Base! You do what we ask of you. You do what your Commander-In-Chief asks of you.”

              “What you’re asking me to do, it’s barbaric! No worse than the terrorists who use chemical weapons to watch their captors die slowly.”

              Beaumont smirked. “We don’t intend to stick around to watch them die. Frankly, the faster you can engineer it to kill the better. We’re not barbarians. We only want to win.”

              “At the expense of the greatest cure the world might ever know?”

              “The greatest cure the world will ever know is eradicating this Jihadi scum from the face of the earth.”

              The General pushed his way in, his troops following close behind. “I want half of the serum, and make copies of all his notes.”

              “This isn’t right!” Fielding said. “You don’t

know what you’re doing.”

              “We’re making things right,” General Beaumont said, “restoring the balance. They’ve been getting away with their campaign of terror for too long. We’re going to show them who still has the power.”     

              After they left Theodore Fielding sat down heavily, burying his head in his hands, and remaining this way for nearly ten minutes, until the phone rang.

              “Dr. Fielding,” he said.

              “Doctor, I’ve found a specimen for you,” Leonard Halpert said on the other line. “There’s a sick horse on a farm outside the city. He’s got Cushing’s Disease.”

              “Splendid,” the doctor said with no animation.

              “What’s wrong Dr. Fielding?”

              “Oh, just that whatever I do from here on out will count for nothing.”

              “I don’t understand.”

              “Oh, you soon will. I’ll arrange a military transport, and I’ll do what I can.”

              “All right. Here’s the address...” the professor said, telling the doctor as he wrote it down.

              “Tomorrow morning I’ll send for the horse.”

              “This is a good thing we’re doing, right?” Professor Halpert said.

              “Oh yes,” Dr. Fielding said, adding, “It certainly could be,” more cryptically.