Aftershock: A Collection of Survivors Tales (23 page)

I kept us moving roughly north with the occasional jog west or east to avoid a town (I wasn’t taking that chance again) or a snarl of wrecked cars. If we kept this pace we would be at the shelter in a couple days. The shelter that I had no idea what to expect at. Could be another group like the one we just ran from, or it could be a military detachment holed up and sealed off, or it could be a bunch of damn hippies that just want everyone to mellow out… Of course we could also be dead in a matter of hours if I made a wrong turn somewhere… Fuck it. Lets go visit the Jersey Shore.

So after Max took off, or at least after I realized that Max took off, I thought about hitting the road myself. There was no way I could stick around with these guys after what I did to the Rev.

Townies brought him water and a blanket. How fucking sweet. I may have gone overboard, but that son of a bitch was the reason so many of the people we called friends two hours ago were dead.

I sat in that pickup for what felt like an hour just listening to the blood rush in my ears, trying to cool down. I watched as one Townie after another made their way over to the Rev as he sat in the dirt. Eventually they got him up and sat him in one of the vans. Nobody even looked at me. Can’t say that I blamed them after the way I went all Tyler Durden on the Rev. I saw one girl, I think she was an ER nurse or something go to the van were the Rev was sitting, I think her name was Susie. She seemed to check him out and give some kind of all clear.

She made her way over to me, real slowly, staring at the ground like she was working up the courage to look me in the eye.

She spoke softly, but stern, like a mom scolding a kid, “The Reverend is hurt badly, but he’ll be okay. Just in case you cared.” It stung.

“I… I’m sorry. I just sort of lost my temper. I…”

“YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HIM!!” With that everyone turned in our direction. “Every one of those people over there is hurting right now! Look what just happened to us! All the work, all the sweat, the last six months, wasted, WASTED! But you don’t see anyone else here ‘just sort of losing their temper’! We need leaders right now, more than ever, but instead we have you!”

“I never wanted to be your goddam leader!” I shouted back, to the crowd, not just to her. I saw the Rev turn his head in my direction. “I tried to tell him I wasn’t the guy, but he just kept pushing me and pushing me, talking about how his God had a plan and I had to be part of it. Well FUCK THAT! AND FUCK YOU! ALL OF YOU! I told your precious fucking reverend that I was no leader. I was a fucking private for fuck’s sake! Do you know what that means?! It means I took fucking orders, and I could barely manage that! I am now and always have been a fuck up! So take a good look, take a good, long fucking look at your ‘leaders’! I told him we needed to get out, that we needed to go to the place on the flyer, but he just kept talking about his fucking wall and the garden and his fucking God’s plan. Well look where all that got us! Every one of those men back there died for NOTHING! Ask the Rev were we go now. Ask him! I will bet you my left fucking nut that he’ll shrug and say some shit like ‘it’s God’s will’. Fuck that and fuck all of you.”

I slid over into the driver’s seat intent on leaving every one of these fuckheads in my rearview mirror, but when I went to start the fucking thing, no keys. I punched the steering wheel in frustration and the pain in my hand flared all the way up to my elbow.

Susie spoke up again, “That your big plan? To just take off and leave the rest of us with even less than we have now? Big fucking man. You’re right. You are a fuck up. You’re doing us a favor by leaving, but why not go on foot and at least leave us with the truck?” She turned and walked away leaving me sitting in the pickup staring blankly out the window.

She was right. The least I could do was leave them the truck. I rolled out the door half-limp and in shock. I grabbed a pack off the bed, thought about scooping up a rifle, decided they would need it more, and just started walking. No one tried to stop me. I doubt more than four or five of them even saw me go. I snuck one last look at the Rev. I caught his eye for a second, but I have no idea what he was thinking. His face looked like raw hamburger and his eyes were unreadable. I also thought about going over to apologize before I left but decided there wasn’t any point.

I just started walking down the road in the opposite direction from where I thought they were headed.

I watched Daniel walk off after the scolding Susie gave him. I doubt that what she said pushed him over the edge; I imagine he had been planning on leaving prior to that. I was glad to see that she talked him out of taking the pickup truck; we would need it if we were going to make it far enough south to get close to this shelter of his.

I thought briefly of calling out to him, of stopping him, but I realized that no one in the group would ever look at him the same after what had happened. Despite the pain in my face, I bore him no ill will. Hadn’t I planned on doing the same to him? Would I not have were I physically capable? How stupid I was to think that I would have any chance in a physical confrontation with a trained soldier. I had no choice but to forgive him. For the good of what was left of our group and for my own soul.

As for my own condition, Susie said that I would be okay. I would be in a tremendous amount of pain for some time, and my face would probably never look the same again, but that I would require only minor medical attention. After her “discussion” with Daniel, she crawled into the back of a box van, presumably to grab her medical bag, which consisted of some bandages, antibiotic ointment, and half a bottle of ibuprofen.

One by one, what remained of the Townies encircled me. They asked if I was alright, if I needed anything. I waved them off with as much of a smile as I could manage. Several of the men began to talk about going after Daniel. I put a stop to that immediately.

“Let him go. He will find his own penance. As for us, we must regroup as best we can and get back on the road.”

A murmur of confusion began to circulate among the small crowd.

I got shakily to my feet and did my best to speak above the din, “Some of you may remember talk of a flyer that was brought to us some time ago. This flyer spoke of a fortification, a sanctuary located many miles south of our town. Daniel and I spoke at length about this place. It was Daniel’s opinion that we should send a handful of scouts to the location, to see if it was what it purported to be. I disagreed, foolishly I now see. I said that we had built our own safe haven, that we were growing stronger and that we shouldn’t throw away the work we had done. I was wrong. I was wrong and many have paid for my hubris with their lives. For this I beg not just the forgiveness of my God, but of all of you as well.”

I began to sway slightly and my vision swam. I felt arms grab me from behind and guide me slowly to the ground. I sat in the dirt and tried to continue, “We must go to this place and pray that there are good people there. I believe it is our last hope.”

After a pause I added, “There is one more thing, something that I have kept to myself for too long. I do not know what it means, if it means anything at all, but it must mean something.”

I steeled myself for what felt almost like a confession, “I know that many of you have seen many horrors since this all began. We have all seen people we love murdered, eaten alive by the dead. I know that some of you have seen what happens to someone who has been bitten or even scratched by one of those things. How quickly they succumb to fever, then death, then rise again in a most unholy way. I tell you that I was bitten once. And that I still live.”

A shocked gasp seemed to come from the crowd in one breath. Their faces all wore the same look of incredulous confusion. I rolled up my sleeve to show the scar I had hidden since my time in the woods.

Murmurs of “I don’t understand” and “Did he say he was bitten?” circulated through the group. A few people actually shrank back a little.

“It was a long time ago, not long after all this began, when I still had my church. My wife and I kept our doors open in the beginning to provide the spiritual guidance we felt people would need...” I told them everything, the man that raped and murdered my wife and the attack in the sanctuary. I told them of the doctor who had taken me in and about my time with Alejandro and his family. I told of them about the time I spent wandering with no direction and how I felt that God had led me to them. The last part they already knew, but I believed then, and I still believe now, that the Lord has led me to shepherd this flock.

“We will take the day to mourn our dead, but in the morning we will leave for this place.”

Again, I rose to my feet. I waved off the men that tried to help me. I told them to set a camp in the tree line, to light a small fire, and circle the vehicles around it. The crowd dispersed and set about their tasks with a distracted air. Several of the women moved into the back of the box van and began to sort through the food and blankets that were hastily thrown there when we left. Some of them pawed through children’s toys and clothing that belonged to children that hadn’t made it out. Tears caught the glint of the setting sun as it touched each face in turn. Tonight I would do what I could to honor the dead and console those who survived. I prayed silently for the Lord to give the words I would need to do this. I prayed for Daniel, and for Max. Most of all I prayed for those of us that remained.

As the sun sank lower and darkness settled into the woods, a small fire was lit and we all gathered around its warmth. Low conversations took place and many were still crying. One by one, faces turned toward me. I closed the Bible I had been absently thumbing through after our meager meal of canned ham and vegetables.

I began to speak, not intending to deliver a sermon, but in my line of work that can be hard to avoid, “I will not stand before you tonight and quote from this book,” I raised the Bible before them, “Instead, I will speak of those who died today; our husbands, our wives, our sons and daughter, brothers and sisters. Those who gave over their lives so that we could escape and survive. I will speak of those whom we have lost before, on the long roads that brought many of us to the town we fled today. In a time when we have lost so much, to lose any more seems unbearable. The Lord tells us to be strong in our faith, that we will be tested for His name’s sake and that those of us who remain faithful will be rewarded with life everlasting. That He will fold us into His arms and we will bask on the warm glow of His eternal love. How many among us, in the last few months, has not wondered when the test stops and the basking can begin. Each of us has in the privacy of our own heart, at one time or another, felt that God has abandoned us. That this is no test. That God has left us alone to wallow here until such time the forces of Satan literally consume us. Have we not been damned to exist on this forsaken chunk of rock until we starve to death, or fall prey to cannibals, or die by the hand of our own fellow Man? Have we not seen the lowest point in our own history? Is there one among us who does not look at Job with envy?

“I will not stand before you on this the eve of our greatest loss, our most painful sacrifice, and quote the 23rd Psalm in some vain attempt so console you. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death… It is no longer just his shadow that we walk in anymore. Our haven has fallen. In my own arrogance I believed that we were somehow safe. I believed so foolishly that our faith alone would protect us. That somehow we were to be the last of the Lord’s light in this world. Even then I knew how stupid and naive this idea was. And now the Lord has shown me the folly of my blindness, and forced our brothers and sisters to pay the price for it.

“I will spend the rest of my life begging forgiveness from each and every one of you. In the morning we will take stock of what we have left, both in supplies and in each other. Then we will make our way to this sanctuary. I pray that we all make it there together, but know this, we will all be together in the end. We are tested, our faith stressed to the point of obliteration, but still we must persevere. The only thing that I can say anymore with certainty is that God still watches us, whether or not He still watches over us…”

I intended to go on, but as I gazed out at what remained of my flock, I saw nothing but the shell-shocked faces of concentration camp photos starting back. My speech offered no comfort, no encouragement, and I was tired, so tired. I shrugged and sat back down by the fire. Conversations resumed in a low murmur. One by one, people went to sleep, or pretended to. Some crawled into vehicles while others just rolled onto their sides by the dying fire. I think I even managed to sleep a little. I cannot be too sure, at one point I was staring off into the forest, the next the sun was crawling over a distant hill and someone was tapping me gently on the shoulder.

One foot in front of the other. It didn’t seem like too long ago I was in this exact same shitty position; walking down some shitty road in some shitty backwoods state, just waiting to die. At least I hadn’t shit my pants this time. I figured I’d just keep walking until I ran into a group big enough to take me down for good. Moaners, marauders, gypsies, shit some roving band of circus clowns out for a night of mayhem, I didn’t give a shit. Just something to end this fucked up existence.

As soon as I took off I realized how tired I was. Tired of the Rev, tired of the Townies, tired of being hungry, tired of working my ass off every day to just barely scrape by. So I just kind of said ‘fuck it’. There’s something to be said about the freedom you feel when you finally give up. I figured one day, maybe two before I was dead and then I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this shit anymore. I didn’t feel suicidal, just done.

So I walked all night, just kind of dragging my feet, letting the pack swing from one shoulder. I thought about why I had grabbed it. I sure as shit wasn’t going to use it, and maybe those people I left back there would need it. At one point, a couple miles down the road, I thought about turning around just to bring it back. Pretty fucking stupid. Then I thought about just sitting on the side of the road to wait for death. That seemed a little too pansy to me though, I at least wanted to go out on my feet.

So I walked. The sun crept over the tree line and the little birdies started singing. Fuck them too. Somewhere up ahead was the end of my road and I was totally okay with that.

I heard the rumble of a diesel coming from behind and my spirit picked up, maybe it wouldn’t take as long as I thought. I let the bag slip from my shoulder, took a few more steps, and turned around on the shoulder.

“Here it comes,” I thought. Then I saw the vehicle, or vehicles I should say. I recognized the box van immediately. It was the one Max and I stole from behind a convenience store a couple months ago. Behind it rode what was left of the Townies in a sad little caravan. Maybe they were coming to finish me off for I did to the Rev. I stepped out into the middle of the road and raised my arms out at my sides like I was being crucified. I closed my eyes and smiled. I was checking out. Then I heard the squeal of old brakes and when I opened my eyes, the van had stopped and the Rev and a couple others were getting out. They strode up with palms out and up showing me they weren’t armed, like I would put up a fight at this point. Then they just stood there.

I decide to break the silence, “You guys lost? Place you’re looking for is the other way.” I pointed down the road past their vehicles for emphasis.

The Rev responded, “We want you to come with us. We need you.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna head this way until something kills me. Maybe see some countryside before I go.”

“Please don’t do this to yourself Daniel. I forgive you for losing your temper. Please, come with us.”

“You forgive me!?” I laughed at the sky. “Fuck you and your forgiveness.” I took a step forward and the two men flanking the Rev moved to intercept me.

“Relax guys. I’ve hit my quota for beating up priests today. I only wanted to make sure you hear this good. FUCK OFF! I am done with this… THIS,” I motioned my hands toward our surroundings, “What kind of life is this anyway? I’m done. That’s it.” I turned and started walking again.

“If you want to do me a favor,” I called back over my shoulder, “Put a bullet in the back of my head. Or better yet, just run me over with that truck when you pull your U-turn. That way you’ll at least save the ammo.” I half-expected one of them to take a shot at me as I walked away. Nobody did. I heard them talking low to each other. One of them wanted to leave, the other said he agreed with me, and of course the fucking Rev was trying to talk both of them out of abandoning me.

I heard footsteps start to follow me.

“Daniel,” the Rev’s voice, “Daniel, please. Come with us.”

I stopped in my tracks and just sort of sagged. “You really don’t get it do you?” I asked. “If I go with you, after what happened last night, you really think anyone over there is gonna look at me like anything but a fucking psycho? I can’t say I blame them, but there is no way I can go with you now.”

“Do you really believe that Daniel? Do you really believe that these people lack the capacity for forgiveness?”

That’s when I wheeled on him and the other two started running over. The Rev waived them off again. “I don’t need your fucking forgiveness! I’m not sorry for kicking the shit out of you. I’m only sorry I stopped when I did!” My lie probably would have been more convincing if my voice hadn’t started to crack half-way through.

“Then don’t accept my forgiveness, but please take my apology. I’m sorry Daniel. I should have listened when you said we should leave. I blame myself for the deaths of those people and I have vowed to lead them to this haven you have discovered. I need your help Daniel. You and I both know we won’t make a day without you. You claim to not be a leader, but who was it that taught these people to fight? It was you. You taught Max to channel his anger and the two of you led what little army we had. I saw you when the town was overrun. You acted like the finest field general that ever walked a battlefield.”

“That’s enough,” I cut him off. “Quit blowing smoke up my ass. I fought alongside those bastards and probably should have died with them. Shit, Max was more a leader than me and he’s only a kid for fuck’s sake.”

“Nonetheless, Max is gone. He told me to tell you goodbye, to tell you that he had to go it alone for a while, that you would understand. I let him go. I cannot do the same to you.”

“He say where he was going?”

The Rev shook his head and we both stood there for a while staring at each other. In my head I was weighing whether or not I still wanted to die. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure. I wasn’t totally convinced I should go with the Townies, but maybe I could catch up with Max. The two of us could roam the countryside like a couple outlaws in some old western. Looking for zombies to take out. Maybe getting a little tail every now and again from some damsels in distress.

“Daniel, please. I beg you. To walk away now would be to condemn every one of these people to death.”

“You really think they’ll be okay with me tagging along? Those two right there are ready to break my neck and leave me here to rot.”

“Only because they thought you were a threat to me. There is something I must tell you Daniel, something that I only just told them. I was bitten. Back when this whole thing began, back when my wife was killed. I was bitten, and I survived.”

I waited patiently while the Rev retold his story, some of which I had heard before, some of which I hadn’t. When he got to the part about wandering down a road waiting to turn into a moaner but didn’t, I smiled.

“No shit,” I said flatly. “You too huh?” With that I walked past him as he stood there slack-jawed. I scooped up my pack, slapped Jim on the shoulder, and made my way to the driver’s side of the box van. “Let’s go gentlemen. We have at least a week’s journey before we get to the Promised Land. Hey, it beats forty years right?”