As The World Dies Untold Tales Volume 3 (13 page)

Epilogue

The sun was their enemy. Scalding, unrelenting, and draining, the great golden giver of life burned Ruben and Charlie to a crisp inside the cab of their truck. Both of them were deeply tanned, but also sunburned.

After weeks on the run, they were finally out of the worst areas of infestation and speeding across the West Texas landscape. In the back of the truck they had dozens of gas canisters hidden under a tarp. They hoped it was enough to keep them moving until they found safety.

Exhausted, Ruben rubbed his eyes beneath his sunglasses. Charlie was lightly dozing, his face covered by a bandana. It was nuts driving through the desert, but Ruben didn’t see where they had a choice. New Mexico was their next best hope for a possible survivor encampment.

Taking a swig of warm water from a thermos, Ruben stared at the shimmering heat hovering over Highway 90. There had been a few cars abandoned on the side of the road, but the passengers were nowhere to be seen.

A sign for Alpine, Texas loomed out of the waves of hot air. Ruben poured some of the water over his sweaty face to try to cool off. Even the wind swirling around the cab felt like an oven.

Maybe it was the road hypnotizing him, or maybe he’d fallen asleep, but he jerked upright when he heard sirens. Anxiously looking in his mirrors, to his disbelief he saw a big Texas State Trooper SUV behind him, lights flashing on its roof. Swerving into the next lane, the vehicle pulled along Ruben’s truck and paced him.

Panic filled Ruben.” Charlie, wake up!”

The tinted window on the SUV made it impossible to see the occupants.

Charlie sputtered awake, ripping the bandana from his sunburned face. “What’s up—shit!”

Ruben fumbled for his pistol.

The SUV suddenly darted in front of the truck and flashed its lights.

“I think it wants us to follow it,” Charlie said, clearly frightened.

It had been a long time since they had seen anyone else on the road.

“Should we?” Ruben wondered aloud.

“It’s a State Trooper,” Charlie answered.

“Maybe.” Ruben wondered if any of them were still alive. “Or someone just using one of the old vehicles.”

Maybe it was insanity, but Ruben took the non-aggression of the SUV in front of him as a good sign. It could have driven them off the road, or opened fire already. The truck that they were now traveling in was an old farm vehicle they had picked up along the way when the newer truck had been damaged during an escape. He seriously doubted that someone in a State Trooper SUV would want a rusted old hunk of metal. Ruben had been afraid to take the truck into the desert, but the massive zombie horde they had run into had made it hard to find a new mode of transportation.

“We’ll follow,” he said at last.

The drive through Alpine was quick and unremarkable. The town was completely abandoned, buildings standing derelict. Not one zombie shambled out to moan at the passing vehicles.

Without being told to, Charlie organized their weapons and ammunition, placing them within easy reach.

Then, in the distance, he saw a huge American flag flying side by side with a giant Texas flag. Beneath the wildly flapping fabric, an extensive fence line appeared complete with towers, sandbags, and guards.

“Ruben,” Charlie gasped. “Ruben, am I seeing this right?”

“Yeah,” Ruben said, brushing his hand over his mouth.

The SUV pulled over to the side of the road just before the guardhouse set before the gate. Several armed people in National Guard uniforms waved to Ruben to stop behind the SUV.

Anxious, but increasingly hopeful, Ruben pulled over.

“If they ain’t friendly?” Charlie whispered.

“We’re outgunned,” Ruben said, shrugging. A bullet would be kinder than a zombie’s teeth.

A short Hispanic man got out of the SUV as the two guards flanked Ruben’s truck.

“Sir, where are you headed?” one of the soldiers asked. It was a woman with blonde hair braided over one shoulder. The name tag on her uniform read LANGE.

“We’re just looking for a safe place,” Ruben answered. He kept his hands on the steering wheel in plain sight.

The woman noticed his dog tags. Her long fingers lifted it off his chest and read the name. “Corporal Ruben Guerra.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ruben answered. It felt like his voice was caught in his throat and he cleared it. “Yes, that’s me.”

“You are?”

“Private Charlie Bowman.”

The shorter Hispanic man joined her. His dark hair was slicked back from his face and his eyes were hidden by his sunglasses. “I spotted them out on 90 when on patrol.”

“Good job, Tito,” Lange answered. “They’re some of our people.”

Tito slightly inclined his head. “We can always use more help around here.”

“We’ll help in any way we can,” Ruben said, his eyes drinking in the fence-line and the military trucks behind it.

Lange’s lips slightly smiled. “Tito will escort you through the gates into Marfa. You’ll be debriefed there.”

“What is this place?” Hope was filling him. Ruben could already see it shining on Charlie’s face.

“The Marfa Sanctuary,” Lange responded. “Welcome home.”

Tito returned to his vehicle as the gates yawned open. Ruben stared at the setup in awe.

“Do you think the fort was like this?” Charlie wondered.

“Yeah. Probably.”

“I know this sounds evil, but I’m glad we left the senator behind. If she knew about this place...”

“Yeah. She would have caused shit.” Ruben followed Tito’s SUV as it pulled in front of him. Slowly, he drove through the gates.

“Think she’ll ever get to Central?”

“Nope.”

“Think she’ll go to the fort?”

Ruben shrugged, then reconsidered. “Probably. She doesn’t give up.”

Craning his head to see the armaments they were passing beneath, Charlie said, “I think it will be her undoing. My mama always told me that the wicked always bring about their own damnation.”

As the gates shut behind them, securing them into the heavily-fortified town of Marfa, Ruben gradually smiled and said, “Then let’s hope your mama was right.”

Emma’s
Story

Emma has always been a valuable part of the AS THE WORLD DIES family, though not many fans know about her. Originally, she inhabited an epilogue that was a mix of a short story and a response to fan demand for some sort of more detailed conclusion to the online serial. I never liked the epilogue except for Emma’s role. The rest just felt forced. I declared it non-canon and removed it from the self-published versions.

Yet, Emma existed alongside the main characters of the AS THE WORLD DIES universe inside my mind. When revising the trilogy for Tor, I thought about introducing her into the story at a much earlier point, but it just didn’t fit properly in the narrative. I thought about writing a new epilogue, but I was already struggling to fit my word count limit. Finally, I realized that Emma and her story were not going to make it into the trilogy. It saddened me, but I swore that one day I’d find a way to share her untold tale.

When I started writing the untold tales of the AS THE WORLD DIES universe, it only made sense to finish the third volume with Emma’s story. Not only do I finally get to share the character with my fans, but I also get to go beyond the ending of SIEGE and show the aftermath of the trilogy.

I hope you enjoy Emma’s story.

The Fearless Zombie Killer

“Tell me a story, Mommy.”

Emma paused in dressing her wily three year old and arched a slim eyebrow at the cherubic monster. Billy had his father’s devilish smile, but Emma’s big dark eyes. His unruly brown curls fell over the slope of his brow as he grinned up at her.

“Only if you behave and put on your clothes.”

Billy considered her words, eyeing her thoughtfully. “Okay, Mommy.”

The naughty twinkle in his eye was worrisome. “Promise?”

“Uh huh.”

“No crossed fingers?”

He adamantly shook his head, but his hands were tucked out of sight.

Billy was a nudist of late, and getting him dressed was a chore. The little one loved to sprint away while she was still drying him off after his bath and run through their manufactured home laughing like a hyena. He’d quickly scramble to tuck himself out of sight for a rousing game of hide and seek. Emma always made a huge show of looking for him while he devilishly giggled in his hiding spot. When she pounced on him, he’d squeal with delight and dash off. Nimble and clever, Billy wasn’t that easy to catch. Emma had to really scramble to catch him. Once she caught him, she’d shower him with kisses before carrying him to his room to wrestle him into clothes. Billy loved the ritual. Emma found it exhausting. She worked long hours taking care of her grandparents and often felt like her batteries had run out. Yet she treasured every moment she spent with Billy. She had to split custody with her ex-fiancé, Stan, and it was hard when she didn’t see Billy for several days out of the week.

“Okay, as long as you behave, you can have a story. Now, what kind of story do you want to hear?” Emma made a big show of tugging his socks on before kissing the bottom of each foot.

“Uh, about you! Being a princess!”

Billy was on a princess kick of late. Every girl he thought was pretty was a princess.

“Okay. Let me see,” Emma sat back on her heels and tucked a few loose strands of hair up into her jumbled bun. She was kneeling next to the twin bed in Billy’s room. It was a mess, but she was too tired to clean it. Picking up one of his shoes, she tried to wrack her brain for a story.

“And me too. I’m in the story.” Billy wiggled his toes in his frayed blue socks.

Emma made a mental note to buy him a new pair once her next paycheck from the State of Texas arrived. She was paid to be her elderly grandparents’ caretaker. The pay was low, but she felt better about taking care of them herself than introducing someone new into their lives. They were both in their late eighties and very set in their ways.

“Okay. Once there was a princess named Emma.”

“That’s you!”

“Yes. And Emma lived in a—” She glanced around the room, her eyes briefly settling on the plywood that covered a hole in the side of the manufactured home. It made her feel like trailer trash. “She lived in a silver castle! It was big, fancy, and there were lots and lots of rooms. And Princess Emma had a little boy—”

“Me!”

“And his name was Prince William. But everyone called him Billy.”

Her son giggled.

“And he was ornery. Oh, my gawd! So ornery. He’d take off his clothes and run through the castle naked!” Emma picked up one of her son’s sneakers. They were new. She had saved for months to buy them when Billy had begged for a pair after seeing another child wearing the Spiderman shoes during a visit to San Antonio. “And the castle was big, and kinda dark. Because it was made out of silver.” Emma made a mental note to pay the electric bill and reconnection fee as soon as Stan picked up Billy. The old generator had kept the lights on, but it was almost out of fuel. “So... she had the fairy godmother make the prince special shoes!”

Billy tensed, ready to give her hell the second she tried to put his sneakers on. He loved them
, but he refused to let her slide them onto his little feet without a struggle. It was as if he turned into an octopus, arms and legs swinging all over the place.

“The shoes were magic! Whenever Prince William would take a step, they would light up with magic!” Emma pushed the sole down on her hand, forcing the heel of the sneaker to light up. “That way Princess Emma could always find Prince William.”

“Magic?” Billy studied his shoes thoughtfully.

“Uh huh.” Emma smiled at him hopefully. She’d already borne one too many bruises from her wrestling matches with her kid. While she was extra careful to never hurt him, Billy had no compunction about smacking her at full power. Three
-year-olds could hit pretty hard.

“Okay!” Billy extended his foot.

To her relief, he didn’t struggle. She slipped both sneakers on his feet and the boy hopped off the bed. Jumping around the room while staring at his shoes, Billy shouted, “Magic! Magic! Magic!”

Emma peeked out the curtains at the old silver Airstream in her backyard. After her grandparents had lost their home to the bank, they had moved into the antique mobile home that her grandfather had owned since the sixties. They refused to take charity from anyone. Both were already outside in lawn chairs reading the newspaper. It was a daily ritual. On the plastic table between them, big mugs of hot coffee puffed steam into the cool morning air.

“Magic! Magic! Magic!” Billy shouted.

Picking up a Buzz Lightyear backpack she had bought at Goodwill, Emma stuffed freshly laundered clothes into the frayed interior. “Grab two toys to take with you, but don’t forget them at your daddy’s. He hates driving across town to return your stuff.”

“Okay, Mommy! Magic! Magic! Magic!”

Emma finished packing while Billy took his time selecting from the toys scattered across the floor. He finally chose a pink teddy bear and a Woody doll from
Toy Story.
Stan was going to have a fit over the bear. He wanted Billy to be manly and hated it when Emma let Billy play with dolls and stuffed animals. The pink bear had been a Valentine’s Day gift Stan had given her when he’d still been sweet-talking her and promising her the world. It had all been a ploy to get her to stay in their small town and not move away to San Antonio to enroll in school to become a dental hygienist. It had taken years to save the funds to pay the tuition. At twenty-four, she’d felt kind of old to be going off to school, but she’d been determined to break out of her small town and have a better life. That Valentine’s Day had been romantic and lovely, but it had ended with her getting pregnant. Stan admitted after Billy’s birth that he had deliberately punctured all the condoms in the box in hopes of keeping her in town with him. Birth control pills had been far too expensive for her to buy and she’d trusted him. Due to her personal beliefs, she had no other choice than to have the baby. All her school money had gone to paying for her pregnancy medical expenses. Neither of them had health insurance at their jobs. Billy was the joy of her life, but he had ended her dreams of a better future.

Emma picked up Billy’s favorite pillow off the bed. He couldn’t sleep without it and it traveled back and forth between hers and Stan’s homes. Emma had agreed to marry Stan so Billy wouldn’t be born out of wedlock, but when she realized she could never forgive his deceit, she’d broken it off. Stan had protested at first, but he was now married to someone new while she was stuck taking care of her grandparents and raising Billy in the very poverty she had hoped to escape.

“Magic! Magic! Magic!” Billy bounced around the room.

The manufactured home shivered under the onslaught. They were lucky it wasn’t falling apart. “Billy, that’s enough, baby.”

“I’m a magic prince!”

Emma winced slightly. Stan was not going to like that proclamation.

Two sharp honks of the horn sounded outside.

“Daddy’s here, Billy!”

“Daddy! Yay!”

Emma caught her son’s hand and he jumped along the hallway to the living room, the lights from his shoes illuminating the floor in colorful patterns with each impact. Shoving the front door open, she pressed her hip into it to keep it from flying shut. The wind was strong and relentless this spring morning. Stan’s old truck was parked in the gravel drive. He leaned against the hood, arms folded across his muscled chest. Handsome and rugged, Stan could still make her heart beat just a bit faster, but she knew he was a liar by nature. He often showed up at her place late at night, drunk and wanting a roll in the hay for old times’ sake. She had only given in once before he’d married his new wife, but she never would again.

“There’s my boy!” Stan said with a grin, throwing out his arms.

“I’m a magic prince!” Billy bounced down the rickety wood stairs to the ground. “My shoes are magic!”

Emma winced as she let the wind slam the door shut behind her and hurried down the steps.

Stan gave Emma a sharp look. “Magic? Well, we’re going to go get you cowboy boots like your daddy later. Would you like that?”

“No! Want magic shoes!” Billy tossed himself into his father’s arms.

Stan heaved him onto his hip and gave him a firm kiss on the cheek. “Well, you want to be like daddy, right?”

“Nope!”

Emma shoved the backpack at Stan. “He’s got his Sunday School clothes in there and his baby Bible. Don’t let him forget it on Sunday.”

“Thanks for letting us have him for the week, since we’ll be out of town during Easter,” Stan said as he took the backpack. His rough fingers snagged Emma’s for a second, but she jerked her hand away.

“It’s okay. Just get him back on time Sunday night. If he doesn’t get enough sleep, he’s cranky at day care.”

“Oh, yeah.” Stan pulled out a check and thrust it at her. “That’s my half for the day care.”

Emma glanced at the number to make sure it was correct. Stan had once given her too little and made a fuss about writing another check. Satisfied, she pocketed it. “Thanks.”

“I can bring Billy back early on Sunday and we can maybe knock back a few beers,” Stan suggested. His heavy lidded sexy eyes ate her up.

“No, I don’t think so.” Emma gave him a wide grin.

Stan shrugged. “One of these nights…”

“No, no. Not one of these nights.”

“We’ll, see.”

“No, we won’t.”

“Kiss your mommy,” Stan directed his son.

Leaning in, Emma accepted the slobbery kiss and tight toddler hug. “Be good, Billy Bear. I’ll see you Sunday.”

“You be good,” Billy answered.

“I will be. Love you!” She made a big deal of kissing her hand and blowing a kiss to her son.

Stan pretended to catch it.

“Mine, Daddy!” Billy pouted.

Stan playfully pressed his palm to Billy’s cheek. “There you go.”

Arms folded over her breasts, Emma watched her ex tuck Billy into the child seat in the back bench of his truck cab. Billy waved and threw kisses. She returned the gestures.

“See you Sunday,” Stan said, winking, then got into the truck.

Emma rolled her eyes.

Billy continued to wave as the vehicle reversed down the drive.

“I love you!” Emma shouted.

“Love you, Mommy!” Billy shouted through the open back window, then his voice was drowned out by the truck engine.

Emma waved until she couldn’t see the truck anymore. A sick feeling filled her that she found difficult to shake. It was as if a piece of her feared she would never see Billy again.

“Stop being silly,” she chastised herself.

Turning, she walked around the front of her home to the backyard where her grandparents waited. She was a few feet away from her grandfather when she saw the headline on the local newspaper he was reading.

ARE THE DEAD WALKING THE EARTH?

Pressing her suddenly cold fingers to her lips, she whipped about and stared up the long drive that wove through the trees to the old farm road. The dust was still settling after being stirred by Stan’s truck forming ghostly
, hazy clouds.

“Billy…” she whispered.