In the Lone and Level Sands (69 page)

The night air was surprisingly cool for
June. It was not quite eleven when he sat on a chair outside. He
leaned his head back and looked up at the night sky. No stars were
visible, just heavy cloud cover. The moon was only there for a
moment. Soon, it was enveloped by the clouds. Like dark gluttonous
demons, they devoured it whole.

Jordan sat alone at the table on the deck
for almost ten minutes. Around him, the world was still. It wasn’t
long until his eyelids grew heavy, and they shut for a moment. Open
again, then shut. Then, Jordan heard Ashley’s voice.

“Jordan, wake up! What are you doing out
here?”

Jordan’s eyes sprung open and saw the glass
table before him. It was still night. He flipped around.

“Wha… Oh, shit. I didn’t want to fall asleep
out here.”

“Yeah,” Ashley said. “It’s not like you’re
in danger, or anything.”

“Hey, why don’t you sit down for a minute or
two?” Jordan said. “It’s really nice out here.”

“Only for a minute, and then it’s time to go
back inside.”

“Okay.” They sat for a few moments in
silence, and then Jordan broke it. “The air feels different.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just different. Hard to explain.”
Jordan paused, trying to piece his thoughts together properly. “I’m
glad I’m alive. I never really have thought about it, but I’m lucky
to be alive, we all are.”

“That’s true,” Ashley said. “And
we
are lucky to be together.”

“Definitely!”

They hugged and then headed inside, to
bed.

****

The morning swept the night away, and not
surprising to Jordan, the heavy clouds had given way to a storm.
Jordan was on the window side of his mattress, the blanket
partially covering his legs, not even reaching his torso. He sat
up, stretching his arms. The blinds were drawn. He peeked through
them, seeing the familiar branch of the big oak tree just outside
his window. Water glistened on the leaves. He looked at the clock
across the room and saw that it was nearly nine. Ashley was still
sleeping. He decided not to wake her, but he wondered if the others
were up.

Jordan took a leak, then pulled a shirt over
his white tank, put some deodorant on, and headed downstairs.
Christian sat at the kitchen table, right where he’d been sitting
the night before. He didn’t notice Jordan at first. When he did, he
was startled.

“Oh, shit!” He said. He nearly spilled his
coffee, but as soon as it was stable, he laughed. “Don’t go
sneakin’ up on me like that!”

Jordan chuckled. “Sorry. What’s up?”

“Just drinking my coffee. Well, your dad’s
coffee. He’s got good taste. Mmm… hazelnut. The morning beverage of
champions.”

“He always did like that one the best,”
Jordan said. “You know something?”

“What’s that, Jordan?”

“You’re a good guy.”

“Well, thanks. Where’s this coming from?”
Christian laughed once more, and rubbed the stubble on his cheek
with the heel of his hand.

“I don’t know, I mean, seeing you in the
store, you seemed pretty cool, but I never really knew you. It’s
just interesting how it takes a disaster to really know a guy. Not
in a million years would I have imagined having you stay at my
house.”

“Funny how things work out, ain’t it?”
Christian said. “You know, I couldn’t ask to be stuck with a better
bunch here.”

The rest of the group eventually came into
the kitchen and joined them at the table. Ashley was the last to
come down. Evelyn volunteered to make pancakes. The survivors sat
around, stuffing their faces in enjoyment.

“Really good, Evelyn!” Jordan said with a
full mouth. There was resounding agreement, and Evelyn smiled,
dripping some syrup over her stack.

“I’m glad you all like them,” she said.

They finished breakfast, but pretty soon, it
was almost eleven in the morning. The rain had stopped long before,
the day was getting away from them, and they needed to head to the
safe zone in Big Springs. Everyone cleaned up, gathered the things
they wanted to take, and set it all in the living room.

“My dad left the keys to the Jeep,” Jordan
said. “Christian, you can drive if you want.”

“Good deal!” Christian said. He snatched the
keys up in his hand.

“You can just follow us, and we should be
good.”

Christian nodded. “So, who’s ridin’ with
me?” Evelyn volunteered. Alex, Aiden, and Ashley went with Jordan.
They all headed for the door, ready for the long ride to Big
Springs, Kansas. Jordan felt a sick to his stomach for a moment,
and he cringed.

“You okay?” Ashley said.

“Yeah, I’m just… excited is all. Worried,
but excited.”

62

On the Fourth of July

The sun was beginning to set. The sky was a
light blue near the horizon, and across the vast space, on the
other horizon, it was already black.

“This would be so much easier if we had
radios,” Lou said.

They had already established that the four
of them would have to split up. Some would be a few miles away with
the flares, and at least one would need to remain at the school to
usher in survivors.

Max was surprised at what they had done to
the school. The first wall had been set up, though he didn’t
imagine the plywood was strong enough. Still, they weren’t
expecting many zombies to head for the school, and if all went
well, most of the zombies in the city would be dead by morning. In
addition to taking the following weeks to fortify the walls better,
they’d have more manpower and far fewer threats.

The tornado shelter had been set up with
cots, blankets, clothes, food, and water, with extras in every
building. Max hoped they could establish some sense of order early
on; he hoped there would be no stealing, no violence. This was,
after all, meant to be a residence, not a place to pass
through.

There was one gap in the plywood, a
makeshift gate also made of plywood. On this, big red arrows had
been painted. At least there wouldn’t be much confusion. Still, Max
wondered if one soldier could get the people inside to listen and
remain calm.

What surprised him the most, however, was
the speed at which they had built it. He could remember setting up
some of the plywood, he could remember target practice, he could
remember a few of the outings he had gone on to gather supplies.
And he didn’t feel nearly as exhausted as he had expected.

“So,” Johns said, dropping a large duffel
bag onto the Humvee, “who’s staying behind?”

“You are,” Ortiz said. In the driver’s seat,
Lou scratched his scrubby chin.

“Won’t we need a sniper?” Max said.

“Here.” Johns tossed a familiar briefcase to
Max. “Have fun.”

Max looked at the soldiers to see if they
were serious. When none of them laughed, he started to sweat. “I’m
not sure I’m ready for this.”

“Don’t worry,” Ortiz said. “You’ll do fine.
You probably won’t be sniping much, anyway. Maybe a bit at first,
but we’re inviting hell to our doorstep, here. We’re going to be
sticking to the big guns, mostly.”

For a moment, Max said nothing.

“Greenwald. Please.”

“Okay,” Max said. His words were like magic,
just saying them made him feel up to the task.

After they were done packing the Humvee,
they sped off down the road. Max saw many of the signs and arrows
they had painted, some warning to ignore the flares and follow the
arrows. He hoped this would work. He hoped that his family was
still alive, that they’d see the flares and the signs and come back
into his life. He choked the feeling down; he knew he’d need to
concentrate on reality.

About two miles away, at a local park, most
of the flares had already been set up. For kicks, Lou had even
brought a box of actual fireworks. These were kept on the
playground, behind the small barricades the soldiers had set up for
cover. Before this was a grassy field, mostly open, and inclined.
The zombies would have to run uphill to get to the soldiers.

The base of the hill was surrounded by a
brick wall. It was only a few feet high, and there were several
entrances, but it would provide a lot of help against the oncoming
horde, as would the thick woods that surrounded the other three
sides of the park.

Lou drove the Humvee through one of the
openings and up the field, parking near the playground. The
soldiers took a half hour to set up some mounts and guns, and laid
out most of their ammo on the ground behind them, for easy
access.

The sun was almost gone. Finally, after a
moment Max partially hoped would never end, Ortiz said, “It’s
time.”

Ortiz and Max stood behind some of the
barricades, guns loaded. Lou walked the few yards ahead to where
the first row of flares had been placed, lined across the green
grass, the black tubes barely visible from where Max stood.

“The fuses are different lengths,” Ortiz
said. “They’ll go off in intervals. And we’ll light them in waves.
This could take a while.”

“Let’s get it done, then,” Max said. Ortiz
smiled.

Max saw the sparks, and then Lou was rushing
back up the hill. The first flare went off before he reached the
barricades. A bright red ball shot into the sky with a screech, and
cast a red light over the trees and the field and the playground,
as well as the soldiers. It reminded Max of his family’s
Independence Day outings to the park. The flare went higher and
higher, hung for a second, then began its slow descent.

Lou reached the barricades and hopped over
one, picked up his gun, turned, and faced the bottom of the
hill.

For a while nothing happened, other than a
few other flares going off. Max watched for movement, even checking
the trees surrounding them, but those always looked like something
was moving in them, so he focused on the bottom of the hill.

“Here they come,” Ortiz said.

They were running. Not too swiftly, and
their steps were often misplaced and without care, but they were
running. One emerged from the road, and then another. Then several
more. Then they were an army.

“We don’t want to waste ammo,” Lou said.
“Wait until they get past the wall, at least.”

“Roger,” Ortiz said. “Greenwald, open
fire.”

Max slung his assault rifle onto his back,
then took to the sniper rifle he had mounted on a barricade. He
searched down the scope.

“What are you looking for, a pretty one?”
Lou said. “Just shoot the bastards!” Max shot at the first thing he
saw moving. Then at the second. Then at anything.

Shot after shot rang out across the park.
The sound was deafening. Max ignored it. The world became nothing
more than the glassy, zoomed place through the little metal tube
before his eye, and the creatures that fell with every squeeze of
his finger.

Then the shots rang out with a different
sound, and Max felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun, but saw only
Ortiz. “Switch to assault rifle!”

Max abandoned the sniper rifle and drew the
gun from his back. For the first time, he saw the open field all at
once. It was full of swiftly approaching zombies, many of them
falling to the grass, some rolling down the hill. Every now and
then, another flare went up. One shot off as a zombie passed over
it, knocking him down and sending the flare backward, toward the
soldiers. It made a horrible screech as it passed, and all three of
them instinctively ducked. It went off into the trees.

Max got back up and started firing. He
hardly had to aim; the oncoming crowd was thick and relentless.
More approached from the road and from between the houses
beyond.

Lou threw a grenade at a cluster of zombies.
There was an explosion of dirt and blood, and several zombies and
pieces of zombies went rolling down the hill.

“There’s no end to these fuckers!” Lou said.
Max kept firing, Ortiz switched magazines.

“Will we have enough?” Max shouted. If they
ran out of ammo, they were pretty much cornered.

“We’d better,” Ortiz shouted back. “There is
no tomorrow.”

Max suddenly wished he had given Johns a
better goodbye. He hoped that off at the school, people were
reaching safety for the first time in weeks. He hoped his family
was there. He knew they wouldn’t be.

Max changed magazines. Lou threw his rifle
down and got out a different gun, which Max didn’t recognize. Lou
continued to fire.

“Look at that!” Ortiz said. A huge cluster
of zombies throbbed at the opening of the brick wall, all trying to
get through at once. Many of them toppled over it, landing on their
faces, then got back up.

“I’m on it!” Lou said. He put his gun behind
him, went to the Humvee, and got out an RPG.

“Don’t miss, we don’t have any more of
those!” Ortiz said.

“I don’t plan on it.” Lou knelt down,
searched through the site, and fired. It was more precise, more
fluid than Max could’ve imagined. Plumes of smoke emerged from both
ends as something shot out of the front. Max turned, and the
cluster of zombies exploded. A red cloud expanded in all
directions, bits and pieces rained from the sky. A small crater was
blown into the ground, and some of the brick wall on either side of
the opening was gone.

“They’re getting closer!” Max said. He fired
and fired, not even thinking, just aiming and shooting. Suddenly
this seemed impossible; Max knew they’d be overtaken any
minute.

Ortiz threw a grenade. Another explosion
went off, this one closer. The zombies pressed on.

“Fuck!” Ortiz said. “We need to light the
second wave of flares!”

“We need to kill the first wave of zombies!”
Lou replied.

“Don’t you think we have their attention?”
Max said.

“Johns is alone!” Ortiz said. “We have to
keep the zombies away from the school at all costs!”

“All right,” Lou said. He grabbed some
magazines and hopped over his barricade, still firing down the
hill, not looking away. He sidled toward Max and pulled him over
the barricade. He pointed toward the wall at the bottom of the
hill. “The very first sign of the zombies at the gate dwindling,
even the slightest bit, and you and I run our asses off!” He fired
into the oncoming crowd. Max did the same. “We get to that second
row of flares, and you light them. Don’t even look up, don’t do
anything you don’t absolutely have to. And don’t fucking think
about me. Just light the flares. I’ll cover you. Got it?”