Aftershock: A Collection of Survivors Tales (12 page)

Months have gone by and we are still locked away in our own little slice of heaven. The kids are restless and want to go outside and run around. My wife has done her best to keep them busy and entertained, but a 20’x10’ area for four people can get cramped pretty quick. Shelia decided after a week of being down here that the kids needed to be schooled still. She spends a few hours each day going through their lessons with them. Keeping their minds busy has helped with the cabin fever. Our food supplies are still good, and water is not too low. Morale is the biggest issue we got right now.

I use the radio to get updates every day. The whole mess seems worse, with no hope of getting better. I had a plan to keep us safe, but not for the rest of our lives. No one wants to spend a lifetime locked up underground. Reports from other preppers leaving their shelters in search of somebody, or anything haven’t boded well. Many times we never hear from them again. Others just drove far enough to realize that there was no escape and headed back to the safety they had in their shelters. All reports stress how dangerous it is out there. It’s not a place to bring kids.

So now what am I supposed to do? Waiting it out was the plan. I was going to shut us in and allow the world to fall apart only to emerge after the initial danger was over. This doesn’t seem like it will have an end. Shelia, god bless her, has been trying to keep my mood light but I feel more defeated by the day. All of my time and energy was spent getting ready for something like this to happen, but I never had the forethought to see it was what it was, the end of humanity. I believed that we would recover. The human race would move on, and be stronger for it. My arrogance was naïve.

One of the brave that ventured outside found a flyer from the government. It had an address and a list of items they wanted you to bring along. He thinks it may be a safe zone for survivors to try to take back an area and research a way to eradicate the living dead. I hope he is right. He left 5 days ago for the facility, and has promised to check in when he gets there. The rest of us are waiting for that check in like a lifeline. Many of us see it as our only chance. Imagine an area where all of the best prepared survival experts will end up together.

Two major concerns have been voiced over and over while we wait to hear if the place even exists. The first, and most commonly feared, is this area is not a sanctuary. What if the government or someone else is just luring those with the supplies they need  into some sort of trap? What an ingenious idea, like a spider with a web. Second, what if this isn’t the government but a group of individuals who have seized power. There could be chaos, or worse a dictatorship ruled by an evil warlord.

Even if this place is the sanctuary we have all been longing for, getting there will be hell. For many it will be impossible. Luckily for me, I am second closest to the facility. As we discussed our concerns we have also talked our way through a preliminary plan if we are going to try to get there. It was agreed upon that we should attempt to arrive at the same time. We want to go in as a group in case there is danger.

That means I get to leave almost last. Meeting points are being arranged, and some people are sounding like they have some life back in them. The thought of a bit of freedom, danger and all, has raised many of the group’s spirits. Wish I could say the same for me, but I’m no liar. Looking at my kids listening to my wife as she teaches them how to read and write has me worried. I feel like I am damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

The radio comes to life with a familiar voice. 5 days was all it took for him to get there. Mind you, he was only 50 miles away. Call signs were a thing of the past, so he just started talking.

“I’m here. It’s what we were hoping for, a place to get together. They are going to put me in quarantine, but I told them I had to tell you guys what I saw first. They hold you for three days away and guarded. Then you get to go in to the general population. They confiscate everything you have, personal items get sent to your room and everything else goes into the communal pool. It’s not the government per se, but it is government guys. There is a mix of military and scientists. A bunch of regular folks, too. From what they have told me they have an average of 5 newcomers every day. There is more than enough room here for all of us. They have a whole town under their control and walled up. It is a small town, out in the middle of nowhere, but it’s defendable. It is the best we are going to get. If you are coming, then do so. Scary as hell getting here and you’re going to hate me for telling you to leave the safety of your fortifications, but when you get here you’ll see. We’ve got a chance. See you all soon, and good luck.”

Then he was gone. The radio went nuts with people ready to go. I looked at the kids and my wife and wished we could just stay here forever. We can’t though, and better to leave when the getting’s good. I shut my radio off for the night and started the list. We only had a few days before we had to get a move on.

When Vincent dismissed me for the day I ran as soon as I was out of sight. That man scares the shit out of me. Being around him makes all the hairs on your body stand right up. I wasn’t native to this island, so I felt lucky that he let me live when his group finally cleared the roads to the spot where I was hiding. Before the illness took over the world I was a nobody. I tried to stay a nobody here too, but Vincent likes to shoot anyone who doesn’t pull his weight.

Watching that writer woman all day freaked me out. I heard she was bitten. The rest of the guys were told to go off on patrol and find where the thing got in. Someone must have screwed up. Our lines were secure, and Vincent had us picking off the dead all day. Bonfires burn corpses all day long. The smell is unbearable at times, then you think about it and understand the smell equals one less threat. I waited all day for her to turn, or get sick, but she didn’t.

The look on Vincent’s face when he saw she was not only healthy, but full of energy, was intense. I could see I was in a situation well above my pay grade. He didn’t need to threaten me to stay quiet. I knew right away it was in my best interest to keep my trap shut. The writer didn’t look as scared of Vincent and his boys. Not like me, I was close to pissing my pants.

She held her head high when talking to him. It looked like she was trying to read his face. Staring into his eyes, I think she was trying to figure out what he was thinking. There is no use in that. The man is a statue when he wants to be, and any expression other than rage is a fake. He plays up for a crowd what they want to see at that moment. Vincent is a natural born politician. Saying anything, or doing anything to further his agenda.

After a night of hiding in my room I was called back to writer guard duty. I expected her to be sick as a dog by now. You have no idea how surprised I was to see her sitting in her cell, I mean room, reading a book. I was joined by another man I had never met before. We relieved the two goons at the door and spent the next 12 hours sitting by the door waiting for something to happen. There was nothing to do but shoot the shit all day, and I learned more than I ever wanted to know about my new partner Eddie.

Eddie wasn’t from the island either. He spent longer than any man should have to endure on the other side of the line. It didn’t take me long listening to him to get the feeling that his body may be intact, but his sanity was in question. Vincent’s men had recently freed him from his shithole of a hiding spot and he took to the group like a fish takes to water. Eddie couldn’t say enough about Vincent and Earl. They were his saviors even though neither of them was there for his rescue.

He had what I like to call blind loyalty. Vincent is really going to love this guy. Hero worship is the number one quality when you are part of The Captain’s Crew. I, on the other hand, wish I could find a way out of this mess I’ve landed in. Nothing would make me happier than getting off of this damn island. Jessica is busy eating her third meal of the day. This was strange, since the illness takes your appetite away almost instantly. It does however replace it with an insatiable craving for human flesh once you reanimate.

Stoic as ever, she seemed to be fearless. Then I saw it. There was a glimpse of fear in her eyes. As quickly as it was there it had faded away. Why did I feel more frightened for the fate of this woman then she seemed to feel herself? Being Vincent’s prisoner was an oddity. Normally he would have shot you by now if he felt it would serve his purpose. That was what was nagging at me. He believed she had another purpose to him.

Why couldn’t she see that Vincent seeing her as special was a very dangerous thing? I feared that whatever he wanted from her was worse than her death. Yet she sat there, eating her fish and bread. When I got back to my room that night I saw her face playing over and over in my head. I couldn’t get that look of fear out of my thoughts, even if she only showed it for a second.

The next day I was ordered to resume my post outside her cell. At least I wasn’t surprised by her lack of sickness this time. I was beginning to wonder if she had ever really been bitten at all. Then, as if on cue, she removed her sweatshirt and her shoulder was bare and mangled. Not only had she been bitten, a chuck of her had been eaten. She asked politely for a bowl of warm water and soap to clean her wound. Eddie jumped at the chance to go stretch his legs.

“You need anything else?”

“A way out,” she mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” she said. “I don’t need anything.”

There it was again. That glimmer of fear. She instantly recovered, and her eyes went right back to the look of a woman in deep thought. I wish I could have read her mind. She was an enigma. There was no real way to explain the strength of this woman. Grown men tremble in fear of Vincent and she sits there all day tough as nails. Maybe it wasn’t courage, I began to wonder if it was stupidity. Being a writer doesn’t guarantee you are intelligent, does it?

Whatever it was, I wanted some of it. If I had an ounce of whatever was making her so brave I could take off. I wouldn’t fear the patrols or goons. My ass would be on the next boat to zombieville. Anywhere had to be better than here. But I didn’t have what she had. I was a piece of shit coward who was going to stay here long enough to lose my value and become just another log on the fire.

On day three there was still no change in the writer. Eddie was full of stories about his idol Vincent. All he did all day was recite back the propaganda bullshit Vincent’s men have been pushing on us since I got in here. There was no way I was going to voice my opinion about our beloved leader. Eddie was lemming, nothing I could say would ever change his mind about Vincent. It could, however, change his mind about me. And not for the better.

When our shift was over the goons came to take the writer away. It was made clear that we were not to discuss this with anyone, or heads would roll. Eddie babbled his love for Vincent and his gratitude for being chosen for such an important assignment. I mimicked him. What else was I to do? If they thought I wasn’t enthusiastic enough about Vincent I would be dead before sundown.

The writer was taken from her cell to Vincent’s office. The look wasn’t there this time. I expected to see it. She looked like a royal prisoner of war trying to maintain as much dignity and grace as possible. That was the moment I knew, I would do anything to get her off this island and away from that man. We hadn’t spoken but a few words, but her fearlessness made me want to stand up and fight for her in a way I wouldn’t fight for myself.

I don’t fit in with the kids here. I wish I did, but every day I see that I don’t get to be a kid anymore. I tried at first, but the more I tried the worse it got. They annoyed the heck out of me, and I think I scared the hell out of them. All they wanted to hear was stories from outside. All I wanted to do was forget. Rocky and I just needed some rest, and a chance to breathe, but they were crammed up my butt all night and day with the never ending questions. The boys were the worst.

I had to repeat the same stories over and over again. None of them ever asked what it was like for me before, they only wanted to know all the bloody details. I didn’t mind at first, I was proud of what I had done. Proud of the moaners I killed. But then I was tired of hearing myself talk. I felt like a cd stuck on skip. The other boys turned on me quickly and decided I was a liar. They said I made it all up, all because a detail or two was missing the 45th time I told a story. That was when I stopped talking to them.

I started to follow the reverend around like a shadow, and Rocky followed me. He was working with Daniel to get the men ready to take on the zombies if they brought the fight to us again. Daniel is a weird guy, but I like him best. He is tough and strong, but doesn’t seem like he wants to be in charge. He could run this place if he wanted to. I wondered why he didn’t. Things would go a lot smoother that way. The Reverend is a great guy, but he doesn’t know squat about fighting.

I watched long enough to figure out that I was better at most of the stuff than the adults. Daniel saw me hiding and finally called me out on it. He asked me to line up and try what he was training the adults to do. He didn’t yell at me and tell me to go back and play with the kids like most adults would do. I told you he was smart. So he had me shoot at a target. I guess I did good, because after I took my shot he told me to get in line with the men and stay training with them. He said it was a waste to have someone who knew what to do hiding in the corner.

Rocky laid down off to the side, but kept his eyes on me the whole time. The camp had a few small run-ins with the zombies before, but Daniel and I knew that there were huge swarms out there. I had seen them. If we couldn’t get this group ready, we would all die when they showed up. People were afraid here, but not afraid enough. They were too comfortable. Life was too easy.

Trainings went well for a while. The guys were starting to get it. They didn’t have it in them to train all day. That was going to be a problem, because we needed them to get good as fast as possible. Daniel and I would spend the rest of the day training after the guys would say they had enough. That time was the best, just me, Rocky and Daniel fixing our walls and talking about what else needed to be done.

He never looked at me like I was too young to know stuff. He would ask me what I saw and what I fought when I was alone. He also asked me about my life before the zombies came. It was nice to talk about my mom and dad. Then one day I thought I should tell him why I was alone.

“Daniel? If I tell you something you promise not to think I am a sicko?”

He took a deep breath and stared at me for a minute. “Sure kid. Whatever you say stays between us, and I won’t judge you for the shit that has to be done out there. These guys may not get it, but I was out there too. To be honest with you kid, I am not really good at that touchy feely bullshit though, so if you need that you might want to talk to the Rev.”

“Nah, I don’t want touchy feely. I just…” I tried to say what it was that I wanted and figured out that I didn’t really know what I wanted. “I just gotta say it I guess and know I’m not completely screwed up now.”

“Max, you are the only guy around here I feel like being around at all. You and Rocky are it. So if you’re screwed up, hell I am too. Change that, I am screwed up. I ever tell you I walked around with shit in my pants for way too many days to be called sane ever again.”

“Shit in your pants?” I bust out laughing.

“Thanks kid,” he laughed too, a deep belly laugh that shook the air. “Now you know my deep, dark, nasty, shit filled secret. So you owe me. What’s on your mind?”

“My dad had to kill my mom.” I blurted out. Then like a waterfall the words came and I couldn’t stop them. “He killed my mom, and I was pissed. I didn’t get it that she wasn’t coming back. I got bit before her and I didn’t get sick. How come she did?”

His eyeballs got huge. I forgot that I had never told anyone about the bite. He must have thought I was a monster about to change right in front of him. Shit, Shit, Shit. But I couldn’t stop, I just kept talking.

“My dad takes me away from my farm, and tells me about how screwed we are and how life is pretty much going to suck from now on. I’m a man now. I have to be able to take care of myself. I got that, I knew I wasn’t allowed to be a kid and have fun anymore. There wasn’t any more fun to have. Then dad got bit.”

I was shaking by this point, of all the stories I told since I got here, this wasn’t one of them. “He got bit, then he got sick. I did right by him,” I said tears rolling down my cheeks. “Fuck Daniel, I am a sicko. I shot my own dad.”

I pulled my knees up to my face and sobbed like a little crybaby. I couldn’t help it. I felt like such a piece of crap. Rocky nuzzled my legs, and licked at the tears on my face. Daniel just stood there. He looked like someone had sucker punched him. All I could think was he was about to force me to leave the group.

I was so wrong. Daniel sat next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. He was quiet for a long time. Every second that passed was torture. When he finally spoke I was the one that was in for a shock. I still can’t believe it is possible.

“I got bit too.” His voice was calm and even. The look of surprise had left his face. “I didn’t get sick either. We watched so many people die and come back from this shit kid, that it was hard enough to accept that I was somehow immune, but you too. That’s almost too much. But if you think about it, there must be more. It can’t just be you and me kid. If it was one of us then maybe, just maybe, it was one of those once in a billion things. We need to talk to Rev. I wonder if there are more of us out there that are hiding this little secret?”

I guess I am not a sicko for killing my dad. Daniel didn’t even mention that I had said that. He just kept saying, “There have to be more,” over and over. We packed up for the night and headed back to camp. Daniel told me to take Rocky to get something to eat, that he needed to talk to the Rev alone. I didn’t care. I was tired and really didn’t feel like talking anymore that day.