Unrest (19 page)

              It wasn’t long before they made it to Ian’s parent’s house. The house was a light blue with a deep shaded porch, but even from afar they could tell the place was boarded up. This tiny slice of suburbia was quaint. They parked along the curb in front of the house, looking around down the street at the other houses. Everything appeared quiet.

              Ian sprung out of the car. If they had the place boarded up there was a chance they were still inside alive!

              “Wait Ian!” Samir shouted. “We need to stay close together.”

              Ian turned, beaming. “All right, all right.” He was shaking, nervous with excitement.

              He called out their names. They walked hurriedly to where he was.

              “I would keep the yelling to a minimum,” Marina said. “There may be shamblers nearby.”

              As they got nearer to the house they saw that someone had spray painted something in red across the wooden planks covering the house. The message read: WENT TO DC FOR SHELTER. Underneath that IAN WE LOVE YOU!

              “They’re alive! They’re alive!” Ian shouted.

              Samir shook his head quietly behind him. They didn’t know that. They didn’t even know for sure that there was shelter there; they couldn’t know anything for certain, only that they had left for D.C., but it showed promise.

              Marina and Kamara looked at each other, aware that there was no guarantee if they’d been on

the road that they’d made it to D.C. But Ian believed

it. And as long as he believed it they were going to go along with him. They got back in the car, letting his expectation sustain them. Besides, if there truly was shelter in D.C. then it benefited them all.

              Something else caught their eye when they left Fredericksburg and continued to head up I-95, a sign on a bridge at the intersection of Rte. 637- Telegraph Rd. reading Exit 148 Marine Corps Base Quantico ¾ MILE.

              Samir, who was driving looked around at the others instinctively. Ariel sat in the back seat between Marina and Ian, lolling her tongue contentedly. They had all seen the signs and they all had the same idea. It didn’t matter that he’d said no more stops. They wanted answers. They nodded and he said, “Let’s do it.”

***

              Content with their stash of groceries in the trunk and back seats Lupe and Jomo drove on. They were both smiling, happy to be alive. For a moment they did it non-self-consciously, looking at each other with a kind of wonderment. Then Jomo became self aware.

              “I never thought I’d smile like this again,” he said.

              “Me neither,” Lupe answered him. It was a good feeling. The radio in the car crackled to life once more. The broadcast was clearer but still murky.

              “Get to D.C.,” it said. “There is shelter here, in the Capitol building and the White House.” That was the extent of what they could hear clearly. After that there were several bursts of static. They heard a name- Halpert, and some one mentioned a doctor and

then they lost the signal again.

              “Did you hear that?” Lupe asked excitedly,

“Did you hear that?!”

              “I did!” Jomo said. “They said there’s a shelter

in D.C.”

              “We need to go there!” Lupe said.

              “I agree. We don’t know all the details yet but if we keep heading north, the closer we get to D.C. the clearer the broadcast should be.”

              She clapped her hand on his knee and grinned wide, screaming, “Shelter!!”

              Jomo laughed. “Yes, I heard the man.” But he couldn’t quite contain his excitement either. It didn’t matter what might lie ahead in the road anymore. They had only one goal now. Lupe stomped on the accelerator.

***

                Xinga took the hunting knife off of Morris’s body and handed it to Lana. “This will work better on them than a hammer.”

              “Where are your friends now?” George asked.

              Xinga shook her head. “I don’t know. We were all heading north, but they must have passed us by now.”

              “Then we’ll head north,” George said.

              “We?” Xinga said.

              “Yes,” George said, “We’ll help you find your friends.”

              She looked at Lana. Lana nodded.

              “We’ll take the RV,” George said.

              “But your place,” Xinga said, motioning to the giant hole in their cabin and the object that caused it, “Samir’s car.”

              “They’ll be here when we get back, unless you

want to see if the car still runs, and we’ll follow you.”

              She shuddered a bit at the thought. It seemed

tainted now that Morris had taken control of it, and almost of her. “It can stay; and you have an RV?”

              George smiled. “Indeed we do. That’s what we

drove up in. It’s parked at the side of the house.”

              “Well all right!” That was the first piece of good news she’d heard in some time.

***

              They entered the compound. The gates were flung wide open. There were no armed guards to greet them. There were guards that had turned into shamblers and roamed about far and wide. Samir swerved the car to avoid them. If they had weapons at some point they were no longer in possession of them, not that they expected a zombie would know what to do with an automatic rifle.

              “Doesn’t look like there were survivors here either,” Samir said.

              “There could be people in the buildings,” Marina said.

              “Yeah,” Ian agreed, “the guard posts might have gotten overrun, but there must be Marines hiding out inside the compound.”

              “Let’s hope so,” Samir said.

                Kamara motioned, “There’s a building there. Looks zombie-free.” Ariel sat happily between Marina and Ian in the back seat, as she turned and stroked the dog absentmindedly.

              “All right, we’ll go there.”

              They parked in front, first knocking on the door and then opening it. It was unlocked.

              The halls were dim; only the low westering sun filtering in through the windows lighted their way.

              Moving slowly with arms at the ready they maneuvered through the hall into several spaces with

doors. 

              They entered a door marked: FBI LAB; under-

neath that was RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT on the frosted glass. It was also unlocked. They weren’t sure what to expect, but what they saw were a cadre of uniformed Marines spread out sporadically along the floor. The air conditioning had stopped working and the dried out husks of their bodies were now home to only a few scattered beetles, picking away at the rough remains. It was obvious they’d been shot. The long dried out blood and the holes in their uniforms attested to that. But by who, and why? Ariel backed up behind them whining.

              “Jesus! What happened here?” Ian said.

              “There are no headshots,” Marina said, which confirmed everyone’s suspicions.

              “They weren’t zombies when they were shot,” Kamara said.

              Samir nodded. “Someone killed them in cold blood. It may have had to do with how this virus started. This is an FBI run laboratory.”

              “Shit!” Ian said. “They probably cooked up the goddamn virus here!!”

              “That would be my guess,” Marina said. “I vote we keep searching this compound and see if we can find anyone with some answers, maybe someone who needs to be held accountable.”

              “I’m all for that,” Kamara said.

              Ian echoed that sentiment, “Me too.”

              “Thought you wanted the zombie apocalypse,” Samir said wryly. 

              “Nah, it’s getting boring now. I’d rather be shagging and binging on Netflix and beer right now.”

              “I was with you until the beer part,” Samir

said.

              “Samir, you slimy dog!” Marina said, punching his shoulder.

              Kamara laughed. “I always knew he was secretly a freak.”

***

              The broadcast was on again. This time it came in much clearer on the car radio.

              Jomo was in the middle of saying something and Lupe shushed him. “Listen!”

              A man was speaking on the radio. He said, “My name is Dr. Theodore Fielding. I am a Biochemist and Molecular Biologist. I’m here with Leonard Halpert, a Professor of Science and his student intern Diane Broadly. We are communicating from a room inside the walls of the capitol. We don’t know how long we will be able to secretly broadcast so I’ll make this brief. There is shelter in Washington D.C. inside the Capitol Building and the White House, as well as the Pentagon in Virginia. If you are a survivor and require shelter we have food, we have beds, water, supplies, medicine. It is a safe place for survivors but it is very guarded. Trust no one. If you can reach us personally without arousing suspicion please contact us. We will do what we can to help you and keep you out of danger.”   

              They looked at each other worriedly.

              “Again, our names are...” Dr. Fielding repeated their names and professions, and then quickly signed off.

              “Well that didn’t sound as promising,” Jomo said.

              “No, but it sounds like he knows a lot more than we do about what’s going on,” Lupe said.

              “But should we risk it?”

              “I don’t know. We’ll get as close as we can. See if we can find any other survivors that may know

anything.”

              They passed the exit for Quantico as they continued on toward the northern border.

              “I hope we’re doing the right thing,” Jomo said.

              Lupe nodded, “Me too.”

***

              As Lupe and Jomo neared the end of the state of Virginia, Xinga was entering its border to the south in the RV with George and Lana.

              George stocked the RV with the groceries they’d just bought. There was a full kitchenette with cabinets above, where there were already some canned and dried goods, and a mini fridge for cold items. There were two full beds and a couch built into one wall. Xinga assumed she would sleep in the latter.  

              She sat on the couch now as George and Lana occupied the only two seats at the front of the vehicle.

              “You comfy back there Xinga?” George asked. There was a curtain between the front cab and the back that was only partway open at the moment.

              “Yes, I’m fine, thank you!”

              The RV rocked gently along the road.

              “Are you hungry Xinga?” Lana asked from the passenger seat at the front cab. “I can fix you up something.”

              Xinga was embarrassed but she said, “Yes, actually, I’m starving.” She was.

              “Say no more.” Lana walked back to the kitchen giving Xinga a wink as she passed. “I’ve got some breaded chicken fillets. I can make you a

sandwich.”

              Xinga’s stomach growled. She hoped Lana hadn’t heard. “That sounds delicious, thank you!”

              “Or two,” she said, probably meaning she had.

              “Two please,” Xinga said, flushing red.

              “No problem. Someone’s gotta do the real work

while the man drives the RV right?” she whispered, winking at her again.

              Xinga smiled.

              “I heard that!” George called back.

              They both laughed.

              The sizzle on the pan from the cutlets heating up on the electric stove and the smell it sent to her nostrils made Xinga’s stomach tie in knots.

              Lana served her the two pieces of chicken on hamburger bread with lettuce and cheese in between and offered her a glass of milk with it, which she accepted graciously. Halfway through her meal it was already beginning to hit the spot.

              “Hey!” George called.

              Lana thought something was wrong. She ran to him behind the curtain. “What is it?”

              “Listen! It’s a radio broadcast!”

             
A broadcast!
  Xinga thought. This made her get up off the couch and join them.

              It was incredibly staticky. They could only make out a few words. It sounded like names and then D.C.

              “D.C., what about D.C.?!” George said as if he could coax the words from the speakers, and then the signal went dead. “Dammit!”  

              Lana looked at him. “Maybe we should head to D.C.”

              “My friends were headed to find Ian’s family, but I don’t know where they live. If they heard anything about DC being a safe place they would be

headed there next,” Xinga said.

              George nodded. “Then to D.C. it is.”

***

              If they had needed confirmation that there was

shelter in D.C. then they got it when the radio burst to life and they heard the voices of Dr. Fielding and Leonard Halpert with the same caveat Lupe and Jomo had received to
trust no one
.

              “Well it’s something,” Samir said, attempting to calm the look of apprehension on everyone’s face, including his own.

              “My family went there,” Ian said. “They have to be there! They have to be safe!”

              Marina sought to ease him but like the others she didn’t want to give him any false hope. She chose instead to remain silent.

              “We should take a vote,” Samir said. “Who wants to keep exploring this base and who wants to move on to D.C.?” Samir stopped the car.