In the Lone and Level Sands (87 page)

“You’re talking about the food chain,”
Garrett said.

“Ah, but it goes deeper than that! Now look
at humans. We seem to have gotten the upper hand, haven’t we? No
matter what comes our way, no matter what threat we face, we
somehow manage to come back stronger. Much like a virus.”

“Your rhetoric is getting old fast,” Layne
said.

“You don’t think it’s in our nature to kill
to survive? What do you think would happen to your little world if
it was allowed to continue? Once your resources were gone, once
there was no food, only billions upon billions of other people? No
space to even move?”

Layne opened his mouth, but nothing came
out.

“Yes, you’re beginning to see. Humanity has
tried to outrun evolution, but this planet can only hold so many.
Eventually, evolution would catch up. Humans would turn against
each other to eradicate the surplus. But how much damage would we
do before then? I found a way to start the process early. Don’t you
see what humanity could be? The people you call ‘zombies’, they
don’t know war. They don’t fight each other, they don’t know
malice, they don’t know greed. They survive, and that is all.”

“I don’t believe a word this guy says,”
Garrett said.

“Why do people who get bitten turn into one
of them?” Layne asked. Norman shrugged, barely able to, but enough
to make Layne angry.

“My guess is that they feel a need to
propagate their species. They don’t reproduce through natural
means, that method is far too inefficient, it takes too long. Seems
they’ve found a better way.”

“Until there’s no one left to convert.”

“I can’t be blamed for what evolution
yields,” Norman said.

“So you’re saying all of this, everything
that’s happened, it’s a part of basic human evolution? That it
would happen on its own, down the line somewhere?”

“Exactly.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” Layne said.

“Then call it a curse. When someone is
bitten, the malicious intent spreads to them, consumes them,
converts them.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. These things
hurt us all the time, but only the bites spread it.”

Norman smiled and shook his head. “Why do
you keep asking me questions if you’re only going to refuse the
answers?”

“Because your answers are bullshit.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just upset because
you aren’t hearing what you want to hear.”

“And you would know what I want to hear?”
Layne said.

“Of course. You want to hear the answer. You
want me to tell you how to reverse it.”

Layne said nothing. His eyes did the
talking. He and Norman stared at each other, a million words passed
between their gaze, a million thoughts, a war.

“Very well,” Norman said. “I have a
proposition for you.”

“Let’s hear it,” Layne replied.

“I will tell you everything you want to
know. No tricks, no lies. I’ll tell you how to reverse it.”

“Sounds like a good deal,” Garrett said.

“After,” Norman said, a pang of annoyance in
his voice, “I emit the second wave.”

For a moment, nobody spoke.

“‘The second wave’?” Keely said.

“I’ve been preparing for weeks. I’m nearly
ready to send out another wave.”

“You mean another wave of zombies?”

“Another wave of the hex,” Norman said.
“That’s what I call it, for lack of a better term.”

For the first time, Layne’s weapon lowered.
“Bullshit! You’re lying!”

“Believe what you want. You’ll find out soon
enough.”

“Or I could just kill you now,” Layne
said.

“And then you’ll never have your precious
answers,” Norman replied.

Layne scowled, shook his head. “What if I
don’t believe you can do any of that?”

“The mind is a peculiar thing. And, with the
right work, a very dangerous weapon. The most dangerous on earth,
in the Universe. There’s only one mind, you know, all of humanity
shares it. This was simply a matter of tapping into the collective
conscious, of opening the pathways. You’ve felt some effects of it
yourselves. Surely, if I can open them, I’d be able to close them
as well. You can know for sure, all you have to do is wait.”

Finally, defeated, Layne said, “How long do
we have?”

“I’ll be ready within the hour,” Norman
said.

Layne turned to his friends. They looked to
him for the solution, for his leadership. He knew he could hear it
then, the song from his dream. It was about to reach its
crescendo.

Layne looked at his bracelet. He thought of
his friends, and all they had lost getting to this point. He
thought of the distances they had traveled, the things they had
survived, how short Jessi and Kara’s life together had been. He
remembered what Kyle had done in the parking lot of the church.

Tears welled in his eyes. Everything came
down to this. No answers, no solution, just an impassible wall with
no door.

Layne raised the gun between the bars and
fired. The bullet hit Norman between the eyes and splattered his
brain across the back of the cell.

71

In Ben and Charlotte’s House

Charlotte’s cries rang in Ben’s ears as they
kneeled together. He felt light-headed from all the blood he’d
lost. He hugged his wife tightly.

The moaning masses still pushed at the
windows, and the shots fired echoed in the air. The zombies didn’t
relent.

“I’m out of cocktails!” Randy said as he ran
down the stairs. He took a look at Charlotte and Ben, eyes wide.
“Wha–did he get bitten?”

Sara turned to Randy and nodded. Fred
reloaded his gun. Richard and Carah stood still as statues, ready
to leave when the time came.

“Give it some time,” Fred said. “The fire’ll
grow.”

“Charlotte,” Ben said.

“Y-you’ll be fine,” Charlotte said. “It’s
not so bad.”

“Charlotte?”

“I’m sorry, Ben.”

“Don’t apologize. If it’s anyone’s fault,
it’s mine. I was too close to the damn window. I was too
close.”

“No, this isn’t happening… You’ll be
okay.”

The fire grew as more zombies joined it, and
after a few minutes, most had abandoned their attempts of getting
inside the house.

“Ben, I love you more than anything, and
I’ve been selfish.” Tears streamed down Charlotte’s face, and she
hugged Ben, fully aware of the fact that he could change at any
second, even kill her. She didn’t care. If she were to die, it was
going to be in Ben’s arms.

“It doesn’t matter. I love you, Charlotte. I
always have. You have to know that.” Ben’s head dipped, and his
breathing heightened, then was silent. The noise from the zombies
faded as most of them disappeared into the leaping flames.

“Looks like we can go!” Randy said.

Everyone readied themselves to leave, but
Charlotte didn’t move.

“Charlotte,” Al said. “We need to go. I know
how hard this must be for you—”

“No! I’m not going anywhere!”

“We’re not leaving without you!” Sara
said.

“Go,” Ben said. “I love you.”

“I can’t. We’ve got to get to Last Station.
Please!”

Ben didn’t respond, except for a deep, slow
moan. Charlotte cried harder and backed up a little.

“We’ve gotta go!” Randy said.

“You go! All of you!” Charlotte said. “I’m
staying!” Ben lifted his head and looked at her. “Ben?”

“Chrrrrrrr.” His jaws opened, and he leaned
toward her. She didn’t move back again.

“I love you, and I’m not leav—”

A loud blast made her jump, but what really
shook her was the blood that splattered on her face. Ben’s body
tilted to the left and fell to the ground. It made a soft thud on
the carpet.

Charlotte sat there for a few seconds before
slowly turning around. When she did, she saw the others heading out
the front door, except for Al, who was reloading his gun.

“How… how could you?” Charlotte jumped to
her feet and pounded Al’s chest. He gently grabbed her hands.

“We need to go, Charlotte. We need to go
now!”

“I’m not leaving!”

Al turned and shot a zombie that hadn’t seen
the flames, then returned to Charlotte. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll die by Ben’s
side. There’s nothing left for me.”

Al’s face knotted up. “You’re not doing this
to me, Charlotte! I’ve already lost your mother! I’m not losing you
too!” Al tucked his gun into his pants, lifted Charlotte, and
carried her out the door. Fred and Randy stood by the van, shooting
at the zombies to clear Al a path.

Charlotte screamed and beat Al on his back,
kicking her legs. “Let me go! You can’t do this! Let me stay with
him!”

Angus was pacing all over the floorboards,
whining. Al put Charlotte inside, jumped in behind her, and the van
sped off into the early morning. The fiery lawn shrank in the
rearview mirror, but the pain didn’t lessen at all.

****

It took Charlotte a while to build up the
courage to speak once they’d hit the road, but a feeling in her was
building up even stronger than the guilt from losing Ben. She sat
up, waking Angus, who was lying over her feet.

“Can we still go to Last Station?”

Al looked at her, and Fred nodded into the
rearview mirror.

“Charlotte,” Al said.

“It’s what I want.”

“Are you sure, dear?” Sara asked.

“As sure as ever.”

“I hope it isn’t a mistake,” Richard
said.

“I just feel like I still need to go,”
Charlotte said. “I don’t know why, it’s just what I feel.” Al
rubbed his daughter’s shoulder gently, and Charlotte sat back
against the seat. Carah leaned forward and put a hand on
Charlotte’s shoulder. Charlotte turned back to see a warm smile.
“Last Station should be just under two hours from here.”

Fred nodded. “There’s a motel coming up.
Maybe heading out for Last Station would look even better after a
few hours of real sleep.”

“That’s fine. It’ll still be there this
afternoon.”

Richard noticed Carah yawning and signed,
You tired?

I’m exhausted.

Me too. We’re going to stop for a few hours
and rest.

Angus got up, squeezed past Al’s legs, and
lay down in the space between Al’s seat and the sliding door. Randy
reached forward and scratched between Angus’s ears.

Soon a big sign came into view. The name of
the motel was scrawled in big, curvy letters:

GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP MOTEL

The van pulled into the long, narrow parking
lot. There was a row of at least two dozen parking spaces in front
of an equal number of rooms, all of them ground-floor. The lot led
right into that of a gas station next to the motel.

Fred pulled up to a pump and exited the van.
The air was cool and felt nice as he rubbed a hand through his
short, gray hair. He began filling the tank, and then glanced at
the small, red car in the motel parking lot. It was the only one
there.

Fred bent toward Sara’s open window. “Sure
hope the name of this place rings true. I could sleep for days, to
be honest.”

“I feel the same way.”

After the van was full, Fred took it to a
space several down from the deserted car. It was silent as the
seven survivors and their dog got out of the van. Each of the motel
room doors had a key taped to it.

“Thank God for small favors,” Al said.
“Whoever ran this place was a saint.”

Richard and Carah took the farthest room
down, Sara and Fred took the one next door. Randy had the next room
to himself, and he fell asleep quickly.

Charlotte and Al were both awake even after
the others had drifted off to sleep.

“I’m sorry things turned out this way,” Al
said.

“It’s not your fault,” Charlotte replied
after a few minutes. The silence was like poison.

“We need to stick together in this. It’s
what family does.”

“I know we do. It’s just… so hard.”

“And that’s even more reason for us to stay
together. I’ll be here for you. We’ve both lost a lot, but we’ll
survive. Remember that, all right?”

“I will, Dad,” Charlotte said.

They were silent for some time, and then
Charlotte stood up and walked toward the door.

“What are you doing?”

“I need some fresh air. I won’t be long. I
just can’t sleep right now.”

“I don’t like the idea of you going out on
your own,” Al said.

“I’ll be fine. Like I said, won’t be long.”
The door closed softly behind her.

Charlotte walked down the narrow path
between the lot and the rooms. The cement felt cool and rough on
the soles of her feet. Before long, she felt tears drip down her
cheeks. She had gone long enough trying not to think of Ben. It was
time to continue grieving.

She stopped in her tracks when she heard a
door open. A man exited the motel room directly in front of her. He
buttoned his pants and straightened his shirt.

Charlotte might have turned and headed back
inside, had she recognized him as Edward, the man from the gas
station the day before. But she didn’t.

He smiled at Charlotte. His greasy, midnight
hair hung in and around his face. He lifted a thin hand and brushed
some of his bangs from his eyes. He smelled strongly of cologne. It
nearly made Charlotte gag.

“Hello there, miss. Nice morning for a walk,
wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose,” Charlotte said.

“You seem down. Tell me, my dear. What could
be troubling a pretty girl such as yourself?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.
Especially not with a complete stranger.”

“That’s my fault, I’m afraid. How rude of
me. My name is Edward Friar. It seems we’re neighbors at this
little motel. Will you do me the favor of telling me your name?” He
rubbed the scar on his neck.

“It’s Charlotte.”

Edward smiled. “See, now we know one
another. So, what is troubling you, Charlotte?”