(Book 2)What Remains (18 page)

The chain link barrier jolted forwards nearly a
foot from the pressure being piled against it. After I pulled the
trigger for the eleventh time I headed for the truck as fast as my
boots would carry me. When I rounded the corner a loud metal shriek
echoed throughout the open space, followed by the horrible
commotion of an infected torrent tumbling through the breach.
Seconds later there were splashes of bodies being catapulted into
the retention pond on the safe side of the fence. I knew that the
whole wave would be upon me in less than a minute.

When I slid the truck door open a rush of warm
air fogged my clear safety glasses. I tossed the rifle on the seat
blindly then ripped the glasses off. My hands shook terribly; it
made the new foreign seat belt much harder than it should have
been. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the side view mirror’s
reflection of death rushing out past the corner of the building.
The seat belt clicked into place barely a second before I stepped
on the accelerator.

As the advancing crowd emptied into the open lot
they dispersed somewhat because of the lack of a singular target. I
had made it into the truck before the first of them rounded the
corner. 522 growled into motion with a quick chirp as the tires
found traction. The brief skidding immediately refocused the
zombies like bees swarming out of a hive. I’d never know how long
they followed. By the time they reached the gate I had cleared the
delivery drive and was well on my way home.

I circled around to turn back onto Hull Street
so I could backtrack home. Driving westbound in the eastbound lanes
of Hull Street felt oddly rebellious, even under the circumstances.
Passing the front of the post office was unavoidable, so I traveled
in the eastbound lane to at least allow some buffer. I would have
certainly passed the time when the undead gained their nocturnal
advantage if I wasn’t home within thirty minutes.

“Guys,” I said into the walkie-talkie, “it’s
Daddy.”

“Nathan! Thank God!” Sarah’s voice instantly
replied. “Are you okay?”

My eyes left the road to focus on the postal
entrance on the right side. Dozens of infected bodies shambled
through the fallen fence. Their herd mentality was so narrow that
the sound and sight of a truck driving by was unnoticed beyond the
cumulative symphony of their hungry pursuit. Then an impact sent a
rattling shock through the truck. The resulting startle nearly sent
me into a green sedan parked on the left side. I recovered in time
but the teenage corpse I had sideswiped was sent through a car’s
windshield like a missile.

“Sweetie! Answer me… please be okay.”

Between hitting the zombie and being awestruck
from the sight of the post office I had forgotten to answer
her.

“Sorry, honey. I’m fine. I’ll be there in ten
minutes.”

Her voice trembled. “I was so worried you
wouldn’t make it back tonight… Maddox has been asking every fifteen
minutes to wait for you at the fence.”

I took the left turn off of Hull Street, the
hill that led up to the back entrance to the neighborhood was
ahead. The blue van on the tire jack was far enough up that I
couldn’t make out the bloody mess that painted its past. Colors
tinged the dirty clouds of the western horizon.

“Keep the kids in the attic, it’s getting dark.
I might need a hand over the fence so if possible I’d like you to
wait there. I love you. See you in a few minutes.”

If there were other obstacles that could have
delayed my return, I didn’t notice. Both my body and mind felt so
drained from the fucked up day in this newly fucked up life, that I
wouldn’t have stopped 522 for a brick wall. I was perfectly content
zoning out with the thought of the neighborhood being unchanged
from earlier in the day with its gory smears and nightmarish
displays.

Minutes later I was creeping up the driveway of
the neighbor’s house. I eased up on the gas for the steep drive
hoping to limit the noise. Shade from the leafless trees made the
area darker than the dimming sky above. Habit had me searching for
the headlights knob; thankfully, I thought enough to fight the
urge. I shifted to park and hopped out with the Kukri wielded.

Somewhere fists hammered down on an obstacle so
loudly that it echoed across the empty street. If the undead were
louder in their disgusting vocalizations, I’m sure I would have
heard a frustrated roar to go along with the pounding. I should
have felt more upon hearing such a sound; it meant that someone
living was hiding and that something no longer living had found him
or her. Fading humanity aside, I only felt relief that it wasn’t
me.

After a very quick check around the front I
focused on getting 522 into cover. The soiled welcome mat was still
draped over the connecting point of the doors. Seeing the mat
unchanged saved me the trouble of checking the backyard, and since
it was time I didn’t have, I was grateful for that.

The mail truck slipped through the double door
with barely inches to spare. I pulled her parallel to the spot I
came over the fence. Knowing that my fat ass wasn’t going to get
over the fence without a ladder, I parked the truck close enough to
use it as a step. She was so close that the side view mirror
scraped against the wood.

“Nathan…” Sarah whispered over the
walkie-talkie. “Please tell me that was you on the other side of
the fence.”

I smiled. “It’s me. I’ll be over in a second.
Need to secure things for the night on this side.” The truck keys,
one for the driver’s cab and one for the rear-loading door, were
tucked securely inside my glove against my palm. Losing our only
set of keys for our ticket to safety was too much to even consider,
so I wanted to know their location at all times.

“The ladder is ready. I’m here.” Her voice had a
slight echo from our side of the fence as I exited the truck.
Knowing my wife was so close again made my heart flutter. I had
seen so much in the short time that we were apart that I might as
well have been gone for days.

By now only traces of sunset-scorched clouds
remained in the sky. My eyes adjusted to the growing dark enough to
reach the gate in order to return the slide lock into its secured
position. I plopped a metal trash can in front of the connecting
point of the fence doors knowing it would be noisy if it were to be
knocked over. If someone was going to mess with 522 then I wanted
to know about it.

There was a distinct shuffling noise coming from
Sarah’s anxious pacing on our side of the fence. I peered through
the gap in the planks to see her silhouette waiting at the ladder.
I draped my backpack over the cusp and she took it without
question; we repeated the task with the rifle.

“Hurry, Nathan. The sun is about gone. We need
to be inside before those things know something is up back here.”
Punctuating her point, the sound of wet fists slapping against the
wreckage of our car in the front echoed in the darkness.

My body was completely spent. Adrenaline was all
that kept me standing by this point. I circled to the other side of
the truck and tried to hoist myself into the roof box using the
wooden step that Ian installed. Thirty seconds of pathetic trying
was enough to prove I had no chance simply ‘using the truck’ as I
had planned. Scaling the hood might have worked, yet the
modifications with chain link made me worry about how much noise
such an attempt would make.

The only option left was to use my broad girth
to my advantage. I faced the fence then squeezed my body parallel
to the truck into the space separating the vehicle and the wooden
barrier. A couple feet into the area I felt McAllister’s improvised
step scrape against the back of my knee. I turned perpendicularly,
wedging my shoulders between the truck and fence. I blindly lifted
a foot, found the step, and hoisted. The tread of my boot gripped
enough on both sides to inch me farther up. Sweat rained from my
forehead while adding a chill to the inside of my many layers.

Finally, I was able to throw an arm over the
cusp. I nearly toppled into our yard past it until my legs landed
upon the ladder. Sarah kept it firm during my awkward landing.
Clangs from the sloppy descent and dismount were loud enough that
the dead must have heard. When I slumped to the leaves at the base
of the ladder she wrapped me in her arms.

We shuffled to the bedroom trap door as one. My
arm draped over her shoulders while hers squeezed my midsection
with painful delight. Sarah went in first to help pull me through.
Rumblings of the creatures against the front fence confirmed that
our presence was now known. Minutes later we were inside. Whatever
fumes had delivered me home were entirely depleted.

“Come on, baby. We need to be upstairs,” Sarah
whispered. The chorus of evil hunger outside was loud enough to
hear through the walls.

My body wouldn’t respond. Everything faded
against the welcomed grasp of our bed.

My eyes opened to blackness. The sleep that had
taken me was so sudden that for a second I couldn’t recall where I
was or how I had arrived home. I jolted up in a panic. A hand
landed on my heaving chest. Instinct again pushed my right hand to
the Kukri, but it was gone.

“Daddy,” said a familiar voice and everything
rushed back to me. I was home. I had made it back. “It’s okay,
Daddy. You’re safe,” Maddox reassured me.

We were still in the bedroom. It was pitch
black. If his hand hadn’t been on my chest then he would have
seemed like a voice floating in nothingness.

“What time is it?” I asked.

A blinding green flash hurt my eyes.
“Eight-thirty.” The light had come from Maddox’s digital watch.

I was asleep for over three hours. The lapse in
time was disorienting. “Why aren’t you in the attic?”

His eyes rolled so hard I could practically feel
them through the dark. “Because Mommy tried to get you up there but
you wouldn’t budge. She didn’t want you to be alone and neither did
I. Calise needed help packing the rest of her things so I told
Mommy I would sit with you until you woke up.”

“Thanks, Monkey,” I said, feeling ashamed for
snapping at him. I sat up feeling significantly better than I felt
hours before. “Where is my Kukri?”

“In my other hand. Didn’t want you rolling over
on it. Cover your eyes - I’m going to turn a flashlight on.” His
voice was controlled and confident. Every time I was with him I
found more reasons to be immensely proud of the little man. A beam
of light cut a swath through the black room. I could see him now
standing next to the bed in his winter coat with his right hand
resting on my chest and the left extended by a sheen of steel. “Are
you hurt?”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed,
cartilage snapping in my stiff form. “No.” I craned my neck in a
circle with an array of snaps that sounded like a sheet of bubble
wrap getting stepped on. “Just sore. And exhausted.”

Maddox extended an arm to help me off the bed.
“I should have gone with you.”

“No, big boy, you shouldn’t have. I brought the
truck back and didn’t get hurt; that’s exactly how things needed to
be. You were here looking over the girls. I couldn’t have gone to
do what I needed to do without knowing you were here keeping them
safe.”

He smiled at the praise. “How did it go finding
the truck?” Sorrow instantly overcame my face and my son saw it.
“What happened? Did you find bad guys there?”

Groggy fuzz still filled my vision. I pulled my
glove off to rub my eyes. Thoughts ran wild with what to say to
him. Good guys, bad guys, and monsters - a child's perspective on
this fucked up world was so much more refreshing than what things
really were. What separated a good guy, a bad guy, or monsters
anymore? The things I had done and all of things I would do still
made me wonder which of those categories I’d fallen into. Which
would my children see me as when this was all over?

I tried to keep things vague. “It was a good
guy, a friend that helped us out. He fixed one of the mail trucks
up to make sure we’d be okay.”

“I’ve always wanted to ride in a mail truck! Is
your new friend coming with us?” I froze. Maddox picked up on the
fact that something was wrong but still didn’t understand why I
looked so sad. “If he’s a good guy then shouldn’t we let him come
with us?”

“Good guys don’t always make it to the end of
the story…. even if they are the ones that deserve it the most. A
lot of times that’s actually what makes them the good guy.” I was
glad that the room was so dark because it hid the sadness that
swelled within me that also must have shown on my face. Maddox’s
features were equally concealed so I couldn’t tell if he understood
my message. Frankly, I didn’t want to discuss it any more than we
already had so I altered course. “Do you think Mommy and Calise
saved us some dinner?”

He helped me to my feet and through the hallway.
I reached for the pull cord to the access ladder before Maddox
could show off with a jump and grab. The second candlelight could
be seen in the new opening, he called out that it was us in order
to avoid any undue alarm then scampered up to safety first. I
followed and pulled the ladder closed to seal us in.

Warmer air rushed over my face like a blanket
fresh out of the dryer. Knowing my girls were in the same space
combined with the soft glow of candles washed the worries of that
day out of my mind. Calise tackled me, knocking us both over onto a
box of old baby clothes. It was hard to be mad about getting taken
off my feet when the little angel immediately showered me with
kisses.

Maddox and I chowed down on peanut butter and
jelly sandwiches made with bread that was long past its sell-by
date. Sarah made good use of anything we had frozen in the chest
freezer. Most of it survived the mild thawing enough to remain
edible. Any of our stocked supplies with an extended shelf life
were already packed with the rest of the bags lining the shed
outside. There wasn’t a lot after the loss of our car but there was
enough to get us through a few days.