She finished her wine and then placed the
empty glass down on the edge of the map. “I’m not going to twist anyone’s arm
here to make this trip. You’ve already risked enough but if Matias will fly
this helo, then I’m headed back to Fort Lewis or any military base we can
locate.”
Matias grabbed her hand and squeezed it.
“You never have to ask me to join you, Carlie. I’m with you for the long haul.”
“Matias might steer you off course by
accident and could use a navigator,” said Shane. “So, count me in. Besides,
Carlie, you might not be taken seriously when you arrive with that
bleach-blonde hair and California tan. The commander at Fort Lewis is going to
think you’re a surfer.”
Jared swigged down the last of his wine
then stood up. “Shit, if Shane’s going, I’m going. I couldn’t leave you guys at
the mercy of this raconteur frogman and all of his bullshit stories of
bravado.”
“If I excel at bullshitting it’s because
your influence has rubbed off on me, you inbred hillbilly,” Shane said,
smiling.
Pavel shakily raised his glass and toasted
the group, his eyes looking glassy from too much port. “I salute you all, my
friends. Your conduct has been admirable not only now but in these many weeks
together, watching over me and making me a part of your group. I hope not to
disappoint you.”
Amy sighed and sat back on a chair. “Really—you’re
really gonna make me leave this slice of heaven? It’s probably going to be
snowing in Washington.”
“Spoken like an Arizona girl,” said Jared.
“I’ll make sure you have some heated slippers after we arrive there.”
Amy used her right hand to simulate
cranking a pulley on her left hand as her middle finger rose up.
“Alright, everyone is in. Outstanding,”
said Carlie as she glanced around the room, letting out a stilted smile. “Now
all we have to do is get past a beach full of zombies, procure that helicopter,
and obtain a deck of cards for the long trip back.”
Chapter 12
Eliza and Willis had run for nearly an
hour, darting past abandoned homes and cattle-loading stations while making
numerous evasive moves in their retreat until they were sure the slow-moving
crowd of zombies was unaware of their location.
The sun was hanging low in the western sky
as they made their way to a lone farmhouse below a set of massive weeping
willow trees. The knelt down beside a propane tank and examined the layout and
windows for any movement. When Willis was certain the path ahead was relatively
safe, he motioned for Eliza to follow him around the rear.
He entered the two-story almond-colored
house through the unlocked back door and swept through each room on the first
floor. They made their way upstairs and found each room to be immaculate, with
even the beds made. A layer of fine dust was on the furniture and there was
evidence that a family of mice had taken over the bathroom.
“I’m gonna go outside and see if the
circuit breakers are on or if there’s a generator we can use,” said Willis. “Why
don’t you look around for food and candles. It’s gonna be dark in another half
hour.”
She nodded and then followed him
downstairs. She went through the kitchen cupboards and found some cans of soup,
beans, and cat food. As she stood up from under the kitchen sink she felt a
hand on her shoulder.
“I didn’t find much but there are….” She
turned and saw the ulcerated face of a stout creature in coveralls pawing at
her face. She shoved the large figure back but its overgrown fingernails gashed
her across the left cheek. Eliza frantically raised up her rifle and pulled the
trigger but nothing happened. She glanced down at the weapon, trying to find
the safety as the large beast rushed at her. Eliza screamed out for Willis and
then clumsily sidestepped over to the fridge. She searched for the fixed blade
on her belt and yanked it free from its nylon sheath.
The zombie snapped its crusty black teeth
as it resumed its frontal assault, its arms flailing wildly. Eliza felt herself
nearly hyperventilating as her vision narrowed and a feeling of nausea welled
up in her stomach. She squeezed her eyes closed and drove the blade forward
into the creature’s throat. Then she looked at it and saw it was still
thrashing. The rest seemed to happen in slow motion—her hand pulling out the
blade and thrusting it in again and again and again. She felt her fear turn
into a furious wildfire inside her and she moved forward, hacking the beast as
she let out a feral scream. The zombie’s predatory growls gave way to a
gurgling sound as its head separated from its body and it tumbled back onto a
chair, shattering it.
Eliza stood over the decapitated figure
and started kicking the lifeless corpse in the ribs as tears ran down her face,
stinging the parallel wounds on her cheek. She thought of her father and then
saw General Adams’ face as she continued kicking the zombie, wondering if she
was living through someone else’s nightmare.
As her leg grew tired, she stopped and
barely noticed Willis standing to her left with his rifle at a low-ready. She
saw him gazing at the headless figure and then back at her, then down at her
blood-stained knife. She felt her iron grip upon the blade waver and then
looked at him as tears continued to fall. Eliza let the weapon slide out of her
hand onto the marble-colored floor. Willis moved up and held her, the rage
having burnt out of her. She tried to slow her raspy breathing but finally
succumbed to the narrowing darkness closing in on her, slumping to the floor.
Chapter 13
The white lace curtains on the antiquated
window frame were illuminated orange as the rays of dawn crept into the
upstairs bedroom where Eliza had just awoken.
She felt the strange comfort of clean
bedsheets upon her and the contour of a soft down pillow beneath her aching
head. If it wasn’t for the sting of the wounds on her face and recent events,
she would have thought that she had woken up in a country bed-and-breakfast.
On the tan couch next to the bed were her
soiled clothes along with her boots and pack. She heard breathing over to her
right and sat up on one elbow to see Willis still asleep in a recliner in the
corner, his rifle across his lap. She barely remembered him cleaning her facial
wound thanks to the morphine from the trauma kit.
She went to get up and noticed that she
was only dressed in her underwear and bra. Before she could slide back under
the sheets, she saw an orange terrycloth bathrobe land beside her.
“Don’t worry,” said Willis, who was
arching his back in a yawn. “I’m sworn to secrecy so I won’t reveal that you
wear underclothes just like the rest of us.”
She pulled the robe up to her chest,
covering herself. “The way I feel right now, I’m not worried about much of
anything let alone my public image.”
“You must be hungry.”
“Yeah, I am getting there. Feeling a
little nauseas still.”
“The morphine will do that—and slaying
zombies while jogging cross-country for hours on an empty stomach.”
She reached up and rubbed her eyes. She
looked past the thin curtains at the mountains in the distance, dwelling on the
horrific image of the creature that had attacked her in the kitchen. She
glanced down at her stiff fingers that had gripped the bloody knife and felt
like she was looking at someone else’s hand. Eliza felt a row of goosebumps
emerge along her forearm and then tried to force away the ghastly memory. She squinted
back at the window to the fields of brown grass fluttering in the wind and
thought about Adams’ fate.
“What do you think that creature was that
got the general?”
“Not sure. Some kind of variant. There
were a few reports out of White Sands about such sightings but I don’t know
anything more than that. Let’s just hope they travel alone. I’d hate to
encounter a bunch of those things.”
Eliza slid on the robe and moved to an old
dresser made from walnut by the window. Pulling her curly black hair back, she
gazed at her face and nervously pulled back the gauze pad. Two raw, finger-long
gashes ran parallel along her left cheek. She felt her heart skip a beat and
wondered if her face would ever be the same. She looked down at the carpet for
a moment and felt her spirits sink, thinking that her looks were one more thing
that had been taken from her in this awful world. Eliza looked back at her
reflection as if looking upon some distant relative she had heard about but
never met.
She felt tears pushing to the surface
again and then forced them back, thinking of her father and what lay at stake
with the return of the laptop to Ft. Lewis.
Willis’ image appeared in the mirror as he
moved beside her. “You got nailed pretty good but that will heal up in time.”
“I thought you were an honest man.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll
get through this and get back to Ft. Lewis. Maybe not by this weekend but we’ll
get there.”
She looked into his confident eyes and his
assurance lessened her sorrow over recent losses. She desperately needed to
hear his words, to know that there was hope worth living for before the walls
of anguish closed in around her soul.
How has my world come to this?
Will
we ever make it to Fort Lewis and what will become of me once I’m there now
that my father is gone?
Who is even running this country?
She looked
around the room, feeling like she was trapped, her heart racing again as if she
was back on a plane that was plummeting through a featureless sky.
She felt the warmth of Willis’ hand upon
her shoulder and forced herself to stand up straight while taking in a measured
breath. Eliza focused on his reassuring eyes and felt the tension in her chest
ease up. He turned and walked to the door. “Why don’t you get dressed and come
downstairs. I’ll fix us up something to eat. There’s a pretty good storehouse
of supplies in the root cellar and we’re miles outside of town so we’ll be safe
here for a while until we can figure out what comes next.”
Eliza looked at him and then down at the
pistol on his hip. “I want you to teach me how to use that. I want to know how
to fight so I’m never afraid like that again.”
“Alright. I will teach you the physical
moves of combat. As for the mental part and the will to survive, I’d say you’ve
already got that hardwired.”
Chapter 14
One week later at dawn, Alejandro led Carlie
and her group down to the beach a half-mile from the treehouse encampment. As
the trail ended, a small thumb-shaped estuary covered with thick palms revealed
a 29-foot sailboat that was anchored in the calm, chest-high water.
After scanning the surrounding groves for
any zombies, Alejandro motioned to the others to follow him along the half-moon
of the landform until they were twelve feet away from the boat. He slipped into
the emerald waters and swam to the boat while the rest of them followed,
keeping their weapons above their heads.
Once on board, he gave them a quick tour
of the vital pieces of gear such as the first-aid kit, extra ammo, and a small
compressed life-raft.
“Sure as hell hope I never have to use one
of those again,” said Jared, staring at the inert yellow tube that comprised
the raft.
After hoisting up the sails, Alejandro
unmoored the boat and angled it out to sea where a southbound wind quickly
propelled it away from the island. The waves were relatively calm as he steered
it parallel to the island for two miles and then veered east into the open
ocean.
After twenty minutes, he yelled behind him
for everyone to come to the console, where he was pointing to the horizon.
“There—over there—that is Cancun, the spring break capitol of Mexico. And those
white blimps off to the left of the mainland—those are the cruise ships.”
“First, we will hit a cruise ship and load
up on supplies for ourselves and Alejandro,” said Carlie. “Then we will make
our way to the mainland and see about getting to that helo. If it’s
operational, Matias can fly it back here and then inspect all the systems while
we prep for our trip back to the States.” She glanced over at Amy, who sitting
beside her. “I know your leg is doing much better but I want you to take it
easy on this venture, alright? Come on board to help gather supplies and that’s
it.” Amy reluctantly nodded and folded her arms.
“How long before we arrive at the cruise
ships?” said Shane.
“It’s only an hour out from here if the
wind continues to cooperate. The trip back will be twice as long though.”
He spun the steering wheel and angled the
sailboat to the right. “I have only had to make two trips so far since the virus
began. Each time, I only went to the cruise ships so I can’t say what the
mainland looks like. It seemed like there would be fewer creatures to deal with
on the ships than inland.”
“Yeah, how’d that work out for you?” said
Matias.
“OK, I guess. I went to the deckside
breakfast bars and loaded up on canned goods and then tossed them in pillow
cases that I tied off to inner tubes, retrieving them afterwards. The last trip
though I had a few dozen freaks heading my way. I had to jump off the side and
swim to my boat. Can’t say we’ll have that luxury if we go into Cancun.”
“Too bad we can’t pilot one of those
cruise ships back to the States. That’d be the way to make an entrance,” said
Jared.
“We could make you the pouty bartender,”
said Shane with a chuckle.
“That’d be alright with me. Except that
childish face of yours would prevent me from serving you alcohol.”
“Fuck—I can drink you under the table any
day, amigo,” said Shane.
“I just rolled my eyes so hard I expended
five hundred calories,” smirked Jared. “You SEALs think you’re awesome at
everything, don’t you? Until you’re not and then we all gotta hear you complain.”
Carlie came up and inserted herself
between the two men and rested her arms on both of their shoulders. “Seems like
everything’s back to normal between you two now that we’re operating with full
bellies again.”
“I’d still watch out for this guy,
Carlie,” said Shane. “His southern charm has been known to beguile many a woman
from what he’s told me around the campfire while you ladies were out fishing.”
“Ah, Shane—I was just sharing those
stories for their instructional value, figuring you could use some guidance
with the opposite sex.”
Carlie pushed off the two men’s arms and
stood still. She relished the company of both of them but rarely acknowledged
her dormant romantic feelings for either. The grueling living conditions they
had endured had precluded anything beyond friendship but her feelings occasionally
crossed the line in her mind beyond mere curiosity at what such an outcome
would look like. “OK, so now I suppose you are both going to get in a pissin’
contest about how many ladies you’ve scored with.”
Amy leaned back from the console. “They’ve
been comparing pecker sizes on everything else since we started this castaway
trip many weeks ago. Surprised we haven’t heard this one yet.”
“I’ll have you know that the ladies I’ve
been with in my life have all been as gifts from the gods and treated as such,”
said Jared.
“See, here he goes, laying it on thick.
Even his accent has increased,” said Shane with a laugh.
“Take Carlie here, for instance,” Jared
said, placing his left hand on her back and rubbing her tan shoulders, which
were showing through her white tank top. “I just have to ask you, good lady—did
it hurt your back when you fell from heaven?”
Both women fluttered their eyes and
erupted in laughter, looking at each other and then back at the two men. Carlie
shook her head, smiling at Jared. “I still say that you would’ve made a great
politician.” She walked down the short wooden steps and motioned to Amy to
follow. “Why don’t we leave this testosterone fest and go over our gear one
more time.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” said Amy, smirking at
Jared and trying to contain her giggles.
Alejandro nodded with his chin to the four
men on deck. “We’ll head to the cruise ship on the left first. That way we can
get some food for your trip and for myself as well. You’ll be able to get a
better vantage point from the deck there for scoping out the mainland.”
“Time to drop your linen and stop your
grinning,” said Shane.
Jared gave Shane a look of dismay. “And
you talk about me with my sayings. You’re like a busted garden hose with all
those navy expressions gushin’ outta you.”
“You got that right, pencil-neck. Now
let’s lock and load,” Shane said with a grin as he lightly punched Jared in the
arm.