In the Lone and Level Sands (51 page)

“Thank you,” Kirk said. He coughed up some
blood. “I’m so sorry.”

Keely pulled the trigger. Kirk’s brain
splattered onto the painted grass below his head, the remainder of
which dropped like a rock.

Keely handed the gun back to Brandon, and
they headed toward the exit. A few more zombies had noticed them,
and were following.

“Let’s hurry,” Brandon said.

The exit they found was much simpler than
the one Keely had spotted across the stadium. A high plywood wall
was topped off with a table that had been wedged sideways to
complete the wall.

Brandon shot a nearby zombie, then put the
gun over his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll boost you up, then you can
pull me over.” He cupped his hands and kneeled down. Keely climbed
up, Brandon lifted, and Keely shoved the table as hard as she
could. It fell over and rolled down a small hill of tables and
chairs, most of which were resting legs-up.

Keely hoisted herself up, the rough edge of
the plywood leaving splinters in her fingers. She climbed over the
plywood wall and let her legs dangle below, then touched down
softly on a table. It was rickety, but it supported her weight. She
turned around and looked down over the wall.

“Okay,” Keely said. She could barely reach
Brandon with her arms outstretched, and the plywood was pressing
into her armpits, digging into her skin. “Grab my hands, I’ll pull
you up.”

Brandon grabbed hold of both of Keely’s
hands. He pressed his feet against the plywood to try to hoist
himself up the wall.

“Come on, they’re getting closer!” Keely
said. The table below her gave way, and she collapsed into the pile
of junk, letting go of Brandon. He fell back onto the grass.
Keely’s side scraped against the leg of a table when she
landed.

“Fuck! Brandon!” Keely heard several
gunshots from the other side of the wall. She struggled to her
feet, then moved the table back, her side aching, and set it as
level as she could before climbing back up and looking over the
edge of the wall.

The zombies were approaching too swiftly,
and there were too many. Brandon fired shot after shot. Then, his
gun clicked.

“Come on, get your ass up here!” Keely
lowered her hands. Brandon took them, then a zombie grabbed him and
pulled him down. It sank its teeth into his shoulder, and he
screamed. Another zombie got there a moment later.

“No!” Keely screamed. The zombies pulled
Brandon to the ground. One of them pounced, but he hit it in the
face with the butt of his gun. He did the same to the other
zombie’s kneecap, which buckled, and it fell. Brandon got back to
his feet.

Keely reached down. “Brandon!” Two more
zombies arrived from the side, leaving Brandon surrounded. More
were approaching from behind. “Brandon, give me your hand!”

Brandon reached down at something. Another
zombie grabbed his waist and bit his neck.

“Brandon, what are you doing?”

He reached back up again, his sketchbook in
his hand, offering it to Keely.

“Brandon, I don’t want that! Climb up
here!”

“It’s too late, Keely,” Brandon said.
Another zombie bit into his arm. They were pulling him back, but he
pressed forward, arm outstretched, the sketchbook barely within
Keely’s reach.

Keely reached down and took it. Tears were
filling her eyes. The table below her gave way again, and the last
she saw of Brandon was him standing there, his arm slowly lowering,
eyes fixed straight on her, more and more zombies surrounding him,
digging their fingernails and teeth into him. She never heard him
scream.

****

Keely threw a chair out of her way as hard
as she could. She fought the urge to climb back up, to try to get
Brandon out of there.

She looked ahead and saw the outside world
for the first time in too long. It was overcast, the sky looked
like it could burst at any moment. There appeared to be no zombies
in the area. Of course; they had all migrated to the opening. There
was just a small concrete hallway separating her from a cloudy
day.

Keely looked at the sketchbook. She turned
the pages to the last drawing before the sketchbook gave way to an
inch of pages that would never be used. On the crisp white paper,
in various colorful shades of pencil strokes, was an image of
Keely, floating above a row of trees. Brandon floated beside her,
holding her hand.

Keely was surprised. She almost smiled.

****

Keely stumbled as she walked out of the
stadium and onto a grassy hill. She fell to her knees, crying,
clutching the sketchbook, now closed to protect it from the rain
that was beginning to sprinkle down. She coughed, almost choked,
and threw up.

Then she heard footsteps. Keely wiped her
eyes and saw someone’s shoes, and an extended hand. She took it and
got to her feet, her knees wobbly.

“Are you okay, miss?” a man said.

“No… I’m okay, I mean, I wasn’t bitten.”

The man looked at the stadium. “Did you come
from in there?”

Keely tried to answer, found herself
choking, and nodded. The man looked around.

“Everyone in there,” Keely said, “they’re
all dying. All of them.”

“I know. We were trying to get in. Hey, come
with me, okay? I have some friends, we’ll help you out.” He turned
his head. “Layne!”

Keely saw two cars at the bottom of the
hill. A few people were standing around, some were drawing, they
were forming a plan. One of them looked up.

“Yeah, Ralph?”

“I found someone! She came from inside, and
she’s all right!”

“Bring her down here!” Layne said. He turned
and beckoned to the other car.

Keely and Ralph walked to the bottom of the
hill, where Layne was standing with a black man and a guy probably
Ralph’s age.

“What’s your name?” Layne asked.

“K-Keely.”

Layne and the black man looked at each
other.

“I don’t fucking believe it,” the black man
said.

“Language,” Ralph said.

The passenger door of the other car opened,
and Katie stepped out.

“Oh my God,” Keely said.

****

Katie rushed toward Keely, and the two of
them embraced. The others got out of the cars.

“What are the odds of that, just what the
hell are the odds of that?” Dex said. Katie and Keely kissed.

“That’s disgusting,” Ralph said. Kyle looked
at him. “It’s offensive.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Kyle said. Keely turned
and looked at Ralph. Her eyes burned.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Ignore it, Keely,” Katie said. “I’m just
glad you’re alive.”

“Do you have any idea…
Any
idea, what
I went through in there?” She shook her head, then turned back to
Katie. “I can’t believe it. I feel like I’m dreaming. Just…” Tears
filled her eyes. She was thinking about Brandon, about Katie, about
everything.

“Well,” Ralph said, “I mean, everything
happens for a reason, you know. I’m just saying…”

“Ralph!” Layne said. He was too late.

Keely yelled as she let go of Katie. She ran
toward Ralph and tackled him. He fell hard on his back. Keely
raised her fist and punched him in the face. She lifted her fist to
do it again, and Ralph put his hands up to block. Layne grabbed
Keely’s raised arm, and she tried to free it. Katie grabbed her
other arm, and the two lifted Keely away from Ralph.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Keely said.

“Keely!” Katie said. Keely’s eyes widened,
and she stopped struggling. Kyle offered a hand to Ralph and jerked
him to his feet.

“I told you shut the fuck up,” Kyle
said.

Ralph held his mouth, wiped blood from it.
“I think she broke my jaw.”

“Good,” Garrett said. “Maybe now you’ll
think twice before moving it.” Ralph returned to the minivan.

“Keely, calm down, it’s all right,” Katie
said. “I’m here, now. We’re okay. We won’t ever be apart again,
okay? Don’t worry about him. We’re alive, and we’re together. And
everything is going to be okay.”

The two hugged again. Keely buried her face
in Katie.

“Well, I hate to break this up,” Layne said,
“but we aren’t alone. I suggest we relocate our reunion to a
quieter area.” He pointed toward the stadium, where the zombies
still waiting to get in were eyeing the group.

“Right,” Katie said. “Come on, Keely. Get
in.”

Everyone entered the vehicles, and then they
were off. Keely watched the stadium fade from view. She looked down
at the sketchbook.

“What’s that?” Katie asked.

“Something a friend gave me,” Keely replied.
Katie didn’t say anything. She just wrapped her arms around Keely,
who leaned into her.

“So where do we go, now?” Layne said.

Katie closed her eyes. “Anywhere is fine
with me, now.”

“To the end of the world,” Keely said.
Shortly after, she fell asleep.

49

Leaving the Stadium

“Now, where the fuck are our cars?” Billy
said. Martha and the others trudged down the sidewalk, away from
the stadium. There were few zombies out, as most of them had poured
into the stadium.

“Up this way, I believe,” Alan said. They
tried to move quickly.

“Where can we go?” Martha asked.

“We may just have to drive until we find a
safe place.”

“Where?” Francine said.

“Anywhere,” Alan replied.

“Anywhere but Lynnwood Stadium,” Phil said.
He sighed heavily.

The two cars they’d traveled in were just
where they’d left them, mostly untouched. The SUV was missing the
driver’s side window. Its crumbled remains lay all over the
driver’s seat, the steering column, and the floorboard. Some had
even made it onto the dashboard. The stereo had been snatched right
out of its slot. The lonely wires hung out of the compartment, the
ends facing the gearshift like dead vines.

“Damn it!” Billy said. “Why in the hell
would someone steal the radio? They can’t even use it!” He
sighed.

“Who knows?” Alan said. “People act
strangely in times like these.” His keys jingled as he fished them
out of his pocket.

“Well, we shouldn’t take this car on the
road with the smashed window,” Emily said. “We’d be exposed.”

“That’s right,” Alan said. “We can take my
car, but it only seats five. There are eight of us.”

“We’re gonna have to find another car that
still has the keys in it,” Billy said.

“I’m betting most of these cars belonged to
people at the stadium,” Jesse said. “Wouldn’t they have taken their
keys with them?”

“Probably, but look at that car, over
there.” Alan was pointing to a car that had collided with a
streetlamp. The hood was folded up a little, and the only thing
holding the bumper and license plate on was the streetlamp.
Otherwise, it looked like it would drive, and it was certainly
abandoned.

“That thing’s totaled,” Billy said.

“It’s mainly cosmetic damage,” Alan said.
“If it runs and has windows, that’s all that matters.”

“Let’s see if the keys are still in the
ignition,” Francine said. She hurried over. The others followed.
She opened the door, plopped into the driver’s seat, and felt for
the keys.

“They’re here!” She turned the key, and the
car started. Alan hurried back to his car and drove it over to the
crashed one.

“Good,” Billy said. “Now, we can get the
hell out of happy town!”

Alan rolled his window down and said, “We
just need to figure out who’s going in which car. I’ll obviously
drive mine.”

“I’ll ride with Alan,” Martha said.

“I’m with Alan, then,” Emily said. Billy
nodded and stood near his wife.

“I’ll drive the other car,” Francine
said.

“Jesse and I will go with Francine,” Phil
said.

“Beverly,” Emily said, “who are you going
with?”

Beverly moved toward Francine and Phil.
Emily sighed.

“Looks like we’re all ready to go,” Alan
said.

“Mother, you might find it easier sitting up
in the front,” Emily said, putting a hand on the back of Martha’s
shoulder.

“Thank you, dear,” Martha said. She reached
for the passenger-side door handle.

“That ought to be more comfortable anyway,”
Billy said. He and Emily climbed into the back. Martha closed the
door and clicked the safety belt in place. She sat with the picture
frame in her lap.

“Looks like this car’s gonna need gas soon,
guys,” Francine said through her window.

“We can stop somewhere on the way,” Alan
said.

“Sounds good.”

Martha and the others left, in search of
another sanctuary.

****

They took Pacific Highway, and it wasn’t
easy. The zombies were fairly common as the vehicles drove down the
death-stricken road. Cars and bodies were spread all over, flashing
glimpses of blood and parts of people.

Martha sighed and spoke to the window.
“Maybe it’s not the ones dying who are being punished.”

“Why do you say that?” Billy asked.

“Those who died are getting off easy,” Alan
said. “It’s us who are being punished. Death is more of a gift,
wouldn’t you agree?” He looked at Billy’s reflection in the
rearview mirror, then he turned and looked at Martha. “Sure, we’re
the survivors, but what is that really worth, when everyone around
us is dying? Our family, our friends…” He focused back on the road.
He turned to avoid a vehicle they were coming upon, and then their
path was relatively clear.

“Thoughts like those aren’t healthy,” Emily
said. She looked about ready to cry again.

“I really don’t know what else to think,
honey,” Martha said.

It was silent in Francine’s car. Beverly
rode in the front seat, and Jesse and Phil sat in the back.
Francine looked at Beverly, and then in the rearview mirror at
Jesse and Phil. She sighed.