Authors: Macaela Reeves
I found myself wondering what grade Ben got in that class as we headed north. He had a heavy foot with the breaks and an unsteady hand on turns. None of us knew what to expect up this way toward the boat dock. It was far off the cleared route. Fifteen minutes into our drive we
’
d
passed a whole lot of nothing on Highway Five.
The road was clear, the off ramps were likewise. It was like an odd family vacation through a national park, the greenery had overtaken a lot of the rolling hills. We even passed a few deer rummaging in the tall grass.
Here I thought they were all gone. I pointed them out to Cole, who lit up like a kid at
C
hristmas. Last time I had heard mention of a deer was before the outbreak. Folks used to hit them with the cars a lot at night. Even my friend Crystal had been in such a fender bender, in her
case thankfully she barely bumped one and both parties walked away fine. She called them a complete nuisance, a giant rat in the grass. Staring at them now, with their graceful legs and dark knowing eyes I didn.t see how anyone could call them anything but majestic.
Cole tried to reach for my hand but I buried both of them under my legs.
A couple miles further we passed a nasty car wreck, two SUV had collided head on. Now they were just metal shells with no trace of their original purpose.
“Look...
shamblers
.” Adam pointed to the right.
Sure enough there were two a good distance apart just standing there like sculptures. Their bodies were caked with mud and clothing torn, their skin was so far decomposed that one could not determine their gender or age.
“Keep going or take them out?” Ben asked.
“Just drive.” Cole ordered from the back seat.
I watched in the rear view as their heads turned to us, jaws opening in the familiar pattern of hunger arms rising in longing. With a smirk I turned forward, sorry deadheads no dinner for you, I thought.
T
he boat dock we were headed for was right off a two lane highway off Five. The bad part was that two lane went through a few small little communities to get there.
Through the first town which no longer had a sign we didn
’
t see much movement, the buildings on the left side of the main road had burned down. Clearly someone had tried to contain or purge dead heads and it got out of control.
We didn
’
t really talk after hitting the first town. Everyone
’
s stress levels were high; Adam was tapping on the dash nervously, Cole was tapping his foot, I was even biting my nails. Adam
and Ben were probably going through the same refreshed trauma that Cole and I suffered on our first trek north. I didn.t want to tell them the second time was easier, because it really wasn
’
t.
A country church between that town and the next had been boarded up, the word help spray painted on the roof. Cole rea
ched for my hand again and didn’
t take no for an answer. I relented, at a friend level the support h
elped with the museum of horror’
s we were driving
through.
The jeep started to cruise into the second small town on the route. The same turn of the century main road layout was present, a worn sign declaring there to be a general store, cars parked along the sides as we drove in. There was however, one horrifying difference between this
and the burned out shell we had passed.
This town wasn.t empty. Not by a long shot.
Chapter 15
“Oh hell.” Ben
’
s face drained of color.
“How are we
gonna
get through this?” Adam murmured while the car slowed. The two lane road through the small town was lined with parked cars on both sides, there were no cross streets for at least three blocks. Just buildings and the dead in our path.
Lots of them. It looked like the entire population of the town was standing there, tattered and decrepit. The one
’
s closest to us had already turned toward the car, their milky eyes staring blankly at the moving vehicle.
“Go around.”
Cole barked. Feet had started shuffling in our direction. The air filled with both the hum of the engine and the wails of the once townsfolk.
“There is no around!” Ben snapped. The banging started on the
driver.s
window, more approaching from behind and the right. In front was no better, the road was thick with them.
“Floor it.” I yelled.
“But
we..” Ben protested. The driver’
s side window cracked.
“FLOOR IT.” I hollered as loudly as my lungs would let me. His hulking foot slammed down on the pedal and the jeep lurched forward. Thankfully I was wearing my seatbelt, the motion threw me back into the tan leather behind me.
Thump
Thump
Thump
.
We drove over something, another went up over the windshield causing it to crack in two places. The jeep swerved, this was not the type of rugged terrain it was made for.
I prayed it woul
dn’
t roll.
Something clipped off the side passenger mirror.
Ben swerved hard to the left to avoid a thick pack and bumped into a parked truck. The sound of metal on metal echoed in my ears.
“They
’
re following us....”
Adam.s
voice cracked when he spoke. I looked out the front cracked windshield.
It was clear, just two lane highway rolling north over the hills. We had actually made it through the congestion. A decade of decay probably helped us plow over them like
twigs.
“
Deadheads are slow. We
’
ll be okay.” Cole reassured him, while squeezing my hand. I barely felt it however, my nerves were so tangled.
There was a thump above us. It sounded like a rock.
“What was that?” I asked.
A withered hand reached over windshield, mangled finger tips scratching at the broken pane.
“On the roof!” Ben slammed on the break and the legless thing went flying forward. The deadhead landed at the edge of the road several feet in front of us in a mangled mess.
Ben cleared his throat, then the jeep slowly crept forward till we were back up at fifty five.
“Dude you so wouldn’
t have passed
your
driving
test.” Adam spoke up from the front seat.
“What?” Ben looked puzzled.
“Pedestrians, minus fifty points.”
“Adam!” With a choice to laugh or cry, we laughed. Flipping him a mouthful for his candor.
“It
’
s
Liv.s
fault anyway.” Ben grumbled. “Darn backseat drivers.” To which I appropriately flipped him off.
We rode in silence from there, my heart finding its way to a normal beat within my chest. On one hand I
couldn’
t believe we had run into that many and lived, and then on the other side I mourned there were so many dead. That was just one little town. One. How many towns, how many cities, how many states.
One of the old men in Junction made a comment when I was sixteen, when the wall was still on its way up and we all huddled at night. He called this our extinction event. In his drunken rant he had yelled that we were just delaying the inevitable. My father had hurried him away fr
om us young one’
s telling us to ignore him for his aforementioned intoxicated state, but his words had stuck with me all these years. I measured them against Dimitri
’
s
comment on the black death, how folks had felt the same way when it rolled through Europe. End days or just another Big Event. We needed to keep pushing forward, just like we had rolled through that town.
Cole interrupted my brooding with another squeeze of my hand. What was that the third one? I yanked my flesh mitt back into my own lap.
Before he could ask me why I spoke up. “Hey Adam is it much further?”
“That was
Sandyville
, so probably another 20 minutes. There wasn.t much on County Line 213 before the outbreak, so after should be a breeze.”
“You hope.” Cole cut in.
“I hope.” Adam agreed.
When we got there, Adam was right.
It was a vacant road to the boat rental dock aside from the remnants of billboards shoved into fields. Whatever bits of wisdom or product enticement they held had long since lost all form of recognition.
We took the turn into the parking lot outside of the rental shack, the gate to the docks was padlocked, there were two other cars in the gravel lot besides our banged up jeep. A silver minivan and an older looking compact car. Both appeared undisturbed. We couldn
’
t see much of the actual boats, behind the ten foot chain link fence was a row of tall pine bushes that had seriously overgrown.
Ben killed the engine and as one we exited the vehicle. Cole let out a hiss and the sound of steel hitting something followed only seconds later.
Ben and I rushed around to the back from our side of the jeep to find a torn mess of a body laying behind the jeep, its head disconnected from its neck. “Looks like it held onto the back the whole time.”
“I didn.t hear anything at all.” I murmured suddenly feeling very vulnerable in the wide open parking lot.
The rental kiosk was a little six foot cube with a service window, inside a chair and a bunch of keys hung on a peg board. It was still a bright red color in most places, but the paint job was starting to show its age.
“Side doors locked.” Ben grumbled, throwing his weight into it in an attempt to dislodge it.
“I got this.” Cole smirked. Then in what I would say was a smooth move, he kicked out the window. Kicked. I don
’
t even think I could raise my leg that high.
“
Whoa dude.” Ben
’
s eyes peeled wide. “Remind me not to mess with you.”
Adam being the smallest of us wiggled in through the frame.
“So which of these do we want?” He asked looking at the keys.
“Are they labeled?” I asked.
“Just numbered oh and this one says gate. We need that.” Adam chucked the key at Cole through the window who wasted no time on working the padlock.
With the cha
i
n removed, the rusted metal gate swung wide with a loud protest.
“I see a four.” Cole called, walking a few steps past the metal entrance.
“Got it.” Adam replied. While he giggled free of the little wooden payment box, I walked forward to join Cole on the dock approach, Ben hung back to wait for Adam.
There were three boats in the water that I saw. A dozen more were up on trailers. There was a little cabana area where it looked like refreshments may have been served. Now it was just a bunch of knocked over chairs and overgrown weeds.
Cole had walked toward the end of the dock by our number four. It was a pontoon boat with a little canopy. Looked like it had two front swivel seats then a center couch across from the driver
’
s station. Despite the pretty boat in front of him, Cole
’
s head was down and he was frowning.
“What
’
s wrong?” I called, moving slowly toward him.
I saw what it was before he had a chance to respond. Sun bleached bones on the deck of the boat.
Body of one.
“Do we move it?” Cole asked me, his eyes focused on the form sprawled out its jaw open in a final testament to its unknown story.
“No.”
“So you want to leave him or her here on the boat with us?”
“No...”
“What
’
s going on guys?” Ben called out, he and Adam had caught up. “Oh...” Ben trailed off.
“We should bury them.” Adam spoke quietly.
“No time for that.” I hated being the bad guy here. It pained me as much as the next person to see any one's loved one in this final situation. Truth was though, death was everywhere and we had a time crunch. Death could very easily reach out its icy little fingers and tap us at
any time on this trip as well. We were not in the safe little nest our surviving elders and vampire associates had made for us. We didn.t stop to scoop a shovel for anyone in
Sandyville
and we weren’
t going to now.
I hopped onto the deck of the boat and did the most positively creepy thing I had done in my life. I picked up the skull, the bone feeling odd in my hands like there should be something awe inspiring in holding this head of the dead, but there wasn
’
t. It was just an object, like a doorknob or a toaster. The soul who had been in this flesh was long
long
gone.