In the Lone and Level Sands (24 page)

“But what if people are hiding in the other
apartments?” Max said.

“We can’t afford to worry about that, Maxy,”
Andrew replied.

Max jumped to his feet. “You can’t just say
that! You could kill innocent people! People just like—”

“Max! I don’t want to hear it!”

“People just like us,” Max said, then he sat
back down.

“I’m going to set it off, then we just hop
into the nearest car and drive like hell.”

“What if the car is locked?” Max said.

“We’ll break in.”

“How will we drive it with no keys?”

“I’ll put it in neutral and coast it away if
I have to. I can probably hotwire it, too.” Andrew turned to
Margaret. Max could tell his father was getting tired of his
questions. “Margaret, I want you to come with me. I’m going to need
your help.” A heaviness fell over everyone in the room. Margaret
stood up.

“Okay… Okay.”

“Mommy, no,” Julie said.

“Hey, don’t be afraid,” Margaret replied.
She got down on one knee and looked into Julie’s eyes. “Mommy and
Daddy will be right back, okay?”

Julie was trying hard not to cry. For a
moment Max was, too.

“August, Max, come here,” Andrew said. He
took them aside. “August, you’re in charge while we’re gone. I
can’t promise the door will hold forever. If something happens, get
into a car and go. And no matter what, stay together, am I
clear?”

August nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep us
safe.”

“Max?”

“Okay, Dad,” Max said.

“We love you all very much,” Margaret said
as the Greenwald parents headed for the door. She and Andrew left
quietly, and August shut the door behind them. She saw the younger
kids were terrified.

“Don’t worry, guys. Dad can do anything.
Especially with Mom with him.”

****

Andrew and Margaret made their way across
the building. A few of the halls were empty, as Andrew had blocked
them off with furniture to keep some paths clear. The ones that
weren’t were teeming with zombies.

In the boiler room they found several gas
canisters. They were medium-sized, and each weighed about fifteen
pounds. Using some rope from a nearby utility shelf, Andrew tied
together two groups of four canisters each.

“Can you lift one?” he asked.

Margaret picked up one of the bundles. “It’s
heavy, but I can manage it.”

“Good. Don’t worry, we aren’t taking them
too far. Just set them down in the lobby.” He found a package of
flares near a toolbox, decided they might come in handy, and tucked
a few into his pants.

They used the canisters from one group to
dot the hallways that entered into the lobby. Andrew opened each
and placed it on its side, so he could create a fire to block the
zombies from getting through if he was spotted before he finished
setting up. He set the other group of canisters against the front
door. He and Max had put some furniture in front of the doors, but
it had been scooted aside, which explained the zombies in the
halls.

Andrew peeked through the opening. As he
suspected, the outside world was full of the creatures. One passed
a few feet from the door, and Andrew ducked back inside.

The apartment the Greenwalds were staying in
was just up the stairs and down the hall. Andrew hoped the
explosion would be far enough away.

He opened one of the canisters and poured
some of the gas over the others and the ground below them. Andrew
set the open canister on its side.

“So how are we going to do this?” Margaret
asked.

“I’ll toss a flare from the stairs, and
we’ll run back to the apartment. The explosion will clear us a
path.”

The two headed back toward the stairs.
Margaret yelled as a zombie lunged from behind the reception
counter and landed on Andrew. He rolled and the zombie fell off,
but it was quicker getting back to its feet than he was. It pounced
him.

“Get off!” Margaret said. She looked for
something to hit the zombie with. Andrew fought back against the
biting, dodging when he could, and pulled one of the flares from
his pocket. He used it to smack the zombie in the head, but the
zombie didn’t seem to care. Andrew ignited the flare and pressed it
against the zombie’s face. It screeched in pain and rolled off of
him. Andrew tucked the flare into the zombie’s pants. The creature
writhed in place for a moment, then caught fire. Still screaming,
it got to its feet and hobbled around the lobby, turned toward one
of the hallways, and then fell on top of one of the canisters,
which promptly exploded.

The next thing Andrew was aware of was
Margaret helping him up. His side hurt and his hearing was muffled.
A big beam of light was pouring into the lobby, and he realized the
canister had punched a small hole in one of the walls of the
building.

Cursing his luck and then cursing his stupid
plan, Andrew got to his feet. His leg hurt, but Margaret helped him
walk. They headed for the stairs.

****

Max heard a boom. Julie’s eyes kept
wandering to the door. Tim’s hadn’t left it. Max looked at
August.

“I’m sure Dad was just taking care of a
small group, or something,” she said. “I’m sure they’re okay.” She
didn’t sound sure of anything.

Max went to the window, pulled away the
thick blankets, and peered out. He could see a grassy hill and
golden sunshine, blinding after spending so much time in the dim
light of the apartment.

When his eyes adjusted, he saw them.

A large horde, at least fifty, running from
the other side of the hill, toward the noise they had heard. A few
seconds later there were at least two hundred, and this was only
one side of the building.

Max headed for the door. August got there
first.

“Open it!” he said. August opened the door.
Max pushed ahead of her and looked out.

Margaret and Andrew were limping up the
stairs. Several zombies were shoving their way over and past the
furniture barricades in the nearby halls.

“Max, shut the door, we’ll be right in!”
Andrew said. Max saw a blur as one of the zombies ran right past
the door he was standing in. “Shut the damn door!”

“Look out!” Max said. The one that had run
past the door was upon them, and Andrew used its own momentum to
shove it down the stairs. At the other end of the hall, a barricade
gave, and dozens of zombies rushed toward Max’s parents.

“Let me out there, I can help!” August said.
She poked her head out.

Andrew and Margaret looked at each other.
Max could tell they understood something, but it was lost on him
until Andrew lit a flare he was holding.

“Shut the door, Max,” Andrew said.

“No!” Max replied, but his body moved
without him, and he shut the door right as another of the zombies
passed by. The zombie must have heard it shut, because it started
beating at it.

“Let me out!” August said.

“Shut up!” Max said. Julie started
crying.

There was a crash as the zombie shoved its
arm through the door. Tim screamed.

“Max, the kitchen!” August said. She held
the door shut, trying to stay clear of the zombie’s thrashing
limb.

Max ran into the kitchen, grabbed a knife,
and ran back to the door. He thrust the knife, but the zombie’s arm
moved at the last second, and the blade got stuck in the door.

“Max, get it!” The zombie shoved, and the
door snapped off of one of its hinges. August pressed against the
door with both hands. Another zombie joined in.

Max yanked hard, pulling the knife from the
door. He also fell down. The door opened slightly, and one of the
zombies stuck its leg in. Max plunged the knife into it. The zombie
shrieked and let go of the door, giving August an edge. Max pulled
the knife from the zombie’s leg and stood up. Then the other zombie
grabbed him.

The door snapped in half. The kids screamed.
Max pushed forward, past the zombie, into the hallway. Both zombies
were trying to push their way into the apartment, and August was
using part of the door to hold them back. She wouldn’t be able to
hold them for long.

“Max!” August said. “Get inside!”

Max sliced the knife across one zombie’s
face. It shrieked and stepped away and then fell down. It writhed
on the ground, holding its face.

Max looked down the hall,
but he couldn’t see his parents; just a swarm of zombies. But he
could
hear
them.

“I missed it!” Andrew said.

Max saw a flash of light as Andrew lit
another flare.

The other zombie leaped at him, and Max
thrust the knife into its throat. It turned and fell to its knees,
then to the ground, gurgling blood the whole way. Max retrieved the
knife once the zombie had stopped moving.

Some of the swarm took notice of what was
going on, and turned and headed for Max and the apartment.

“Max, get in here!” August said. She still
held half of the door, the other half lay on the ground. Max could
see six or seven zombies coming down the hall.

“I can’t do that, August.”

“Max, don’t—”

Max turned and ran down
the hall.
The zombies all followed him;
none seemed to realize the apartment was fully exposed and
contained several cornered meals.

Max reached the corner of the hallway and
rounded it. His feet were moving and his thoughts were racing. He
wondered if his parents had been bitten, if any of the zombies had
gotten into the apartment after he left. He rounded another corner,
realized he was likely right above the lobby, and then there was
nothing.

****

When Max opened his eyes, all he saw was
light. He was sore everywhere, and he could barely hear. He
realized he was lying on the ground, mostly buried under a thin
layer of dust and sheetrock. He sat up.

Max could see a gaping, two-story hole that
used to be the front of the building. The surrounding walls and
floors were on fire. The explosion had torn the floor out from
under him, leaving him on the ground in the lobby. He felt lucky to
be alive.

He didn’t see anyone, but he saw countless
charred, black bodies.

“Dad! Mom! August!” He didn’t want to draw
attention to himself, but he had to find his family. He walked to
the hole and stepped outside, into daylight.

There were more zombies out here, but no
sign of his family. Max looked back into the building. The stairs
were intact and littered with bodies. Many of them were charred,
most of them were impossible to make out.

A few dozen zombies noticed Max and started
for him. He didn’t know what to do. A rumbling sound registered at
the back of his mind.

Max just stood there. He had no idea why.
The zombies were yards away, and Max prepared himself for the end
of his life.

A large Humvee sped in from the left,
squashing the nearest zombies in one go. It screeched to a stop
amid the smeared bodies. A light-skinned, dark-haired man in
military uniform jumped off of the back and headed over to Max,
carrying an assault rifle.

“Holy shit, kid! Are you all right? Are you
bitten?”

Max felt as though he either couldn’t
understand the man’s words, or couldn’t understand his own
vocabulary enough to answer. Somehow, he uttered a “No.”

“We have to get you out of here, this place
is crawling with zombies.” The soldier grabbed Max by the arm and
led him toward the vehicle. That snapped Max out of his
confusion.

“Wait, no! My family, they’re in there!
Wait!” Max tried to pull away. The soldier wouldn’t let him go. Max
looked at the Humvee, where a bald, dark-skinned man in uniform was
sitting, gun in hand, shooting at zombies before they could get
close. He stopped firing and exchanged glances with the soldier at
Max’s side.

“Kid, there’s nobody in there,” the first
soldier said, “we looked.”

“My family was in there.
We were going to escape. They were
just
there, I swear!”

“Kid, we heard the explosion from a few
miles away,” the man in the Humvee said. “We got here and searched
the place. We didn’t find anything but bodies and fire.”

“You didn’t look hard enough, you weren’t
here long enough!” Max pulled free from the soldier holding him and
pointed at himself. “What about me? I was in there, and you didn’t
see me, either!”

“Kid… we searched for a
half hour,” the first soldier said. Max had no idea so much time
had passed. By now, his family was either gone, or… gone. “If you
want I’ll take you through there real quick.
Real
quick.”

It took ten minutes to search the parts of
the building that were intact. The only bodies they found were
burnt to a crisp, and the few recognizable ones were strangers.
They gathered back at the Humvee. The soldier hunkered down and
looked into Max’s eyes. “I know it isn’t easy… but there’s no one
in there.” Max barely heard him, he was a million miles away.

“Come on, kid,” the soldier in the Humvee
said. “It’s not safe here.”

This time, Max let the soldier guide him.
They climbed into the back of the Humvee. The black man tapped on
the hood, and a third soldier, in the driver’s seat, looked back at
them.

“Hang on to your assholes, it’s gonna be a
bumpy ride!” he said. There was a cigar in his mouth, but he was
able to talk just fine. The Humvee sped off.

Max looked at the wreckage
of the apartment, the place his family had stayed for a whole week,
waiting, hiding, almost
living
. He wondered if they had
gotten out, how many of them had made it. He wondered what they
thought about him, if they thought he might be alive or had assumed
him dead, or if they had even gotten the chance to look for
him.