Rosenberg locked the doors and checked them every ten minutes. We kept the lights down to one lamp in the living area and drew the interior blinds and curtains. The inside of the RV seemed cozy and I felt reasonably comfortable sank into an arm chair. Smith opened a bottle of bourbon and we all took a drink.
Eazy rolled a joint and passed it around. The zombies and world troubles seemed a million miles away for a while. I enjoyed the light headedness from the booze and marijuana provided. No need to go outside again tonight.
Batfish cooked a rice dish on the RV stove, using the contents of the cupboards. I doubted whether the owners would ever need or eat rice again. We ate and Rosenberg volunteered to wash the dishes. He may have felt guilty about not helping us dig Donna’s grave.
My phone bleeped and I saw it was low on battery power. I plugged the charger into the electric socket in the RV. We might as well use the facilities at hand. Rosenberg explained that RVs usually run on different batteries. One runs the vehicle and the others power the living quarters.
Almost immediately my cell phone bleeped a text message. I saw the message was from my dad in New York. He wanted to know if I was still alive and where we were. I texted back telling him we were okay. I really didn’t want to go into great detail about my shitty day. I’d told him earlier there were six of us before we met Kell and Julia. There were still six of us, although we’d lost two of our party.
I looked at Julia and she still remained quiet. The incident with the gang had hit her hard. Seeing Kell blown to bits like that wasn’t easy to erase from your mind. Her bubbly personality had disappeared. I hoped it was only a temporary lapse.
Smith, Eazy and Rosenberg talked freely. Rosenberg suggested we take turns on keeping watch although I doubted whether Eazy or Smith would be capable of taking a shift. They had started early on the booze and already started to slur their words.
The two girls retired for the night and slept in the bunk beds. I was happy to sleep in the comfortable chair. My eyes wouldn’t stay open and I couldn’t concentrate on what the others said. I found a blanket in one of the cupboards and sat back down in the arm chair. I covered myself with the blanket and let sleep take hold of me. Rosenberg could wake me if he wanted me on guard watch.
I dreamed of Donna. She was alive and talking about me to the others, sitting inside the RV. They all talked like I was dead.
“I’m going to miss him,” said Julia.
“He was a cool dude,” Kell said. Kell? He was supposed to be dead as well.
“So long, Wilde man,” Smith said, raising a glass of bourbon.
Then I was in the ground. Cold and alone. Like I was the one buried in the hole. I felt the damp earth all around me. The light was pale like moonlight. I saw myself like I was floating over the top of my own body. The ground was so cold, I felt myself shiver.
I awoke, still inside the RV and thankfully not dead. The lights were off and the interior was in darkness. Smith, Eazy and Rosenberg snored asleep in the arm chairs. I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep. I picked up my phone and looked at the time, 3.22 am. Something seemed wrong. The inside of the RV felt cold, like we were outside.
I moved over to the lamp and turned it on. The RV side door stood open. Pale moonlight shone in through the open door. It made sense of my dream but it didn’t make sense why the door was open. Spot sat on Rosenberg’s lap looking around, with his ears flat to his head. He also sensed something was wrong. I checked on Batfish. She slept quietly in her bunk but Julia’s bed was empty.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I shook Rosenberg awake. With the amount of booze Smith and Eazy had sunk, I doubted whether we would be able to wake them with any ease.
“Julia’s gone,” I whispered.
Rosenberg looked confused. It took him several seconds to realize where he was and what was going on. I pointed to the open door and Julia’s empty bunk. Rosenberg moved Spot out of the way, stood up and rubbed his eyes. Spot stayed in the chair and I couldn’t blame him.
“Where did she go?” Rosenberg asked, still slightly confused.
“I don’t know,” I said searching for the flashlight in my rucksack. “I woke up and saw the door open and she was gone. All her stuff has gone as well.”
“Why do you think she went, like that?”
“I don’t know, Denny,” Rosenberg’s questions started to grate on me. “We better go and look for her. Get the keys from the ignition. We’ll lock the door from the outside.”
“I don’t think going out there is such a good idea, Brett,” Rosenberg stammered. “The whole place could be crawling with zombies.”
“We can’t just leave her out there,” I hissed.
I found the flashlight and reloaded the Beretta ammo clip. Rosenberg went through to the cab and took the keys from the ignition. We stepped out into the night, shivering. Rosenberg secured the door.
“Hang on, Denny,” I said. “Put the keys on top of the front wheel, just in case.”
Rosenberg gulped and did as he was told.
“You never know. If we lose each other at least we can get back in the RV.”
We looked up and down the road. I swung the flashlight left and right and saw nobody. No Julia and no zombies. We crept over to the VW and shone the light through the window. She wasn’t in there either.
“Where the hell is she?” Rosenberg hissed.
“I have no idea,” I sighed. “Let’s have a look in those woods.”
“Ah, Christ, Brett, do we have to?”
“We have to make some sort of effort to find her,” I said. “We went back for Spot didn’t we? I think she’s gone a bit gaga after what happened yesterday at the garage.”
Rosenberg kept pace as we headed towards the woods. I figured Julia may be by Donna’s grave. I shone the light over the mound of earth covering Donna’s body. The earth remained untouched in a small heap.
I sighed and shone the light through the trees. I couldn’t work out why she had run out on us like that. Surely it was safer with us than trying to get by on your own.
“Julia?” I called out in the darkness.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to draw attention to ourselves, Brett,” Rosenberg whispered.
I ignored Rosenberg and carried on trudging deeper into the woods, calling Julia’s name. Rosenberg stayed about two paces from my side. I was worried for Julia. She may have had her own reasons for leaving but she was without any weapons or a vehicle. How far did she expect to get? What if she stumbled back into the campsite and came across several of those camper zombies?
Maybe she’d just given up. The situation did look hopeless, I had to agree. Not for the first time, I wondered if we were doing the right thing. Why not just head into the mountains and hole up there until this nightmare was over? I wondered how many non infected people were left in the world, diminishing in number by the second. I thought of the suicide guy in his truck, outside the gun shop in Brynston and wondered if he’d had the right idea. Get out of this mess while you still can. Dying was a better option than turning into one of those lousy, shuffling corpses of the living dead.
“Julia?” I barked again, under the canopy of the trees. My voice echoed slightly around the tree trunks.
“This is really creeping me out, Brett,” Rosenberg stammered.
I was more frustrated than scared. Was one night’s sleep too much to ask after all we’d been through already?
“What was that?” Rosenberg whispered.
We both stopped dead in our tracks and listened. I heard the trees rustling in the breeze overhead but nothing else. Rosenberg was hearing things. Then a heard it, a sob then a slight sniff.
“Julia?” I called out again, swinging the flashlight to the source of the noise.
The flashlight beam caught a huddled figure sat at the base of one of the tree trunks slightly to our right. I took a few steps forward and breathed a sigh of relief when I recognized the figure as Julia.
“Julia, are you okay?” I said softly.
Julia didn’t respond. Tears streamed down her face as she rocked back and forth in a hunch with her knees under her chin and her back against the tree trunk. Her baggage was on the ground near her feet. I bent down and put an arm around her trying my best to be of some comfort. Rosenberg crept over like he was treading through hot coals.
“Okay, Julia,” I whispered.
“No its not,” she sobbed, shaking her head. “Everything’s fucked up. Everything is so bad in this world that the dead have come to life.”
“It’s a virus, that’s all.” I tried to sound like I knew what I was talking about. This disease was no ordinary flu and maybe nobody would ever find a cure. My aim was to just try and get her back to the relative safety of the RV.
“Where do think you were going to go, Julia?”
“I don’t know,” she sniffed. “Anywhere but here.”
I sighed and looked at the trees above. The night wind blew through the leaves, I heard a faint moan as the moon shone between the branches.
“Come on, Julia. We have to go,” I whispered.
“They’re coming through the trees,” Rosenberg hissed. “I can see them.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Quick, we have to move,” I hissed.
Rosenberg did an impression of a wobbling jelly. “Brett, they’re coming, I can see them through the trees.”
Rosenberg was right. I looked up and saw a balding zombie, in a white shirt ambling through the forest in our direction, followed by more murky figures.
“Julia, we have to go,” I hissed. “They’re coming through the woods.”
“Let them come. I don’t care anymore,” Julia sniffed.
I glanced through the trees. The zombies were ambling closer, around thirty yards from us. An owl hooted his disapproval amongst the treetops as the moonlight gave our position away. I thought for a brief moment how lucky flying animals were. They could just fly away from all this trouble. Maybe fly to a deserted island and get away from all this mess.
“Come on, Julia. We have to go now.”
The zombies moaned and wailed, making their way steadily closer. They had our scent and wanted feeding. My worry was they’d follow us back to the RV. I was seriously considering knocking Julia out and carrying her back to the vehicle. Rosenberg stood ready with his club but the numbers of zombies grew all around us. We were going to be surrounded if we didn’t move quickly.
I pulled out the Beretta from my waistband and cocked it. The click-clack sound seemed too loud in the night. I looked back through the trees and tried to estimate how long it would take us to get back to the RV. Not for the first time I wished Smith was with me. What would he do in this situation? Probably just leave Julia to be ripped apart by the zombies.
“Brett, I think we should get the hell out of here,” Rosenberg hissed, jigging from side to side like he was desperate for a pee.
“I’m sick of all this death,” Julia spat. “My granddad died when I was seven and I thought that was bad.”
“Julia, we don’t have time for this,” I was getting pissed off. Julia was putting our lives in danger. “Denny, pick up Julia’s bags.”
Rosenberg did as he was told. I bent down and grabbed Julia around her shoulders. She didn’t resist as I pulled her to her feet and hugged her close. The gun in my right hand felt heavy as weariness took hold of my body. Julia’s hair smelt nice as I drew her close but I didn’t have time to dwell on bodily contact. She was limp in my arms and I could barely keep us both upright.
“Come on Denny, let’s get back to HQ,” I said. The zombies were around ten yards from us, coming in all directions.
We shuffled through the trees in the shadows, passed Donna’s grave, towards the RV. The zombies followed us in the distance. We’d have to move the RV; it wasn’t safe to stay where we were. I didn’t trust Rosenberg to drive so I’d have to get us the hell out of there, even though fatigue was getting the better of me.
Julia sniffled into my shoulder and held me tight, which I would have enjoyed if the situation wasn’t so serious.
The hooting owl flapped overhead as if he was following us and disappeared into the night. The zombies moaned and bellowed as they came after us. Rosenberg retrieved the RV keys from the front wheel and dropped them twice before unlocking the side door.
I bundled Julia inside the RV and took the keys from Rosenberg. He jumped inside with Julia’s bags. I thought about firing off a few shots at the approaching zombies but their numbers were too great to make any difference. A brief head count gave me the figure of around twenty forthcoming ghouls. Too many to try and keep away from the sanctuary of the RV. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes, trying to rid myself of the tiredness that threatened to induce me.
I staggered around to the RV cab and jumped into the driver’s seat. I physically slapped myself around the face several times before gunning the engine. We had to get the hell out of there before too many zombies homed in on our position. The VW van would have to stay put. Batfish may have loved that vehicle but we couldn’t wait to form an escape plan. She would have to like it or lump it as far as I was concerned.
Denny Rosenberg joined me in the RV cab as we pulled away. I was grateful of his company for the first time since knowing him. He glanced towards the living area as the sound of glasses smashing rang around the cab.
“How’s Julia?” I muttered as I flicked on the RV lights.
“She seems okay,” Rosenberg stammered. “She’s with the others. I wish I had more medical supplies, though. She could do with a few anti depressant pills.”
“I think we could all do with a few of those, Denny,” I sighed.
I nosed the RV around the narrow lane towards the relative safety of the Interstate.
“Are you okay to drive, Brett?” Rosenberg whispered as though the police were going to speed around the next corner and arrest us all for still being alive.
“We don’t have much choice at the moment,” I sighed, glancing at the clock on the dash. “It’s nearly four a.m. The sun will be up soon. I’ll get us back on the Interstate at least.” I hoped everyone had taken all their gear out of the VW, including Smith’s bag of cash.