Among the Roaring Dead (26 page)

“Listen, we’ve been out there since this whole nightmare started. We’ve seen everything. This country’s biggest city is a ghost town littered with dead bodies and monsters seeking blood, or something like that. There are people out there who should be dead, but they’re not. They’re something else. They’re dead but they’re walking. I don’t know what they want, but it’s nothing good.”

“What are you saying, my mother’s a monster?”

“You can decide that for yourself. Thank you for letting us stay the night but we can’t remain with her in the house. We’re leaving as soon as the sun comes up. You might want to think about coming with us.”

“And leave her here?”

“She can’t come with us.”

Jess moved quickly down the stairs, with everyone in tow, and started to pack up his bags.

Gwen seemed angry but confused too.

At daybreak, they were moving out across the field. Michael alone turned to look at the house behind them. Gwen decided not to join them. She had gone upstairs, presumably to look after the thing she still thought of as her mother.

The sky had become purple again; bruised. There was a strong wind that instantly chilled their ears. Dustin was the first to notice that he could see his breath.

“Where do we go now? We can’t just leave them there.”

“And why not Michael?” his father said. “What are we supposed to do, force her to come with us? There is an old saying that you probably don’t know but you can’t force someone to make a change that they’re not ready to make on their own.”

Jess walked on, straight-shouldered and broad-backed. Neither of the boys had previously noticed just how strong he could be. Michael and Dustin followed – more out of instinct than anything else. Michael wanted to turn around and go back but he knew that his arguments wouldn’t achieve anything. His father still treated him like a kid – his opinions didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that they had no idea where they were going or that they had no food and were likely to freeze before long. Dad was in charge.

They were traveling across hard dirt fields that presumably once had vegetables growing out of them. Their mother used to make them promise not to buy junk with their allowance. They used to get money to buy their lunches at school – 20 dollars loaded onto their smart cards a week.
Don’t eat crap every single day.
She didn’t want them eating fries and potato chips and they had both agreed and yet still largely continued to eat junk.

Each student would deface the code on the product they were buying so that they would have to be recorded manually and generically. Michael’s box of fries would only come up “General-food” if he took this step.

The hunger in Michael’s stomach was surreal. It made him salivate even at the thought of an apple or a bag of carrot sticks. Things that he normally never would have craved were suddenly delectable.

Daylight was now almost like a perpetual twilight. Everything seemed muted in shades of greys and blues that seemed to disorient all of them. Jess was having trouble determining if they were still moving in a straight line before long. Their batteries were all depleted and the sky was not letting enough sun in. They had managed to make it to a small town at the point when Jess wondered if they were going in the wrong direction. Dustin was starting to talk about how he was hungry. They had been moving for hours through fields and woods, one after the other. Jess at least found that the hunger took the focus off his sore feet.

There was a large structure up ahead that looked like an airport hangar.

“It’s a hockey rink,” Michael said.

He suggested they try to see if they could get in.

Jess looked at him quizzically.

“It’s the last place anyone will go,” he said. ”So there might actually be something intact inside. Something useful. Even if all we find is a working zamboni with gas, that’s still something. And, they usually have snack bars inside.

They tried the front doors and found them open. There was indeed a snack bar inside. Rotting hot dogs sat on some kind of a conveyor belt cooking system that had ground to a halt. Soda machines dispensed flat pop that was surprisingly drinkable. There was some kind of emergency lighting in place that cast everything in a strange glow. An entire wall and display cabinet featured vacuum-packed snacks like baked carrot sticks and nuts and chocolate. Hardly a nutritious meal, but perhaps good enough to get them through the next few days, Jess thought.

“We should search the place. Make sure it’s safe before we get comfortable.”

He looked at Michael.

“We’ll stay together this time.”

They tested door handles for change rooms and inspected the mechanical room.

On the second floor they checked the stands and enclosed viewing areas, as well as the few office areas in the north end of the building.

When Michael turned to look at the boys, he found that the minimal lighting had made their skin (and probably his too) look like it had a strange molten hue.

“Michael, were you going to play hockey next year?”

Michael shrugged his shoulders.

“I was told I couldn’t play anymore if I wanted to continue with football. You know, twist my ankle in hockey and screw up my chances for a football scholarship.”

Dustin’s eyes were turned upwards to the rafters. There was nothing up there but metallic beams and conical lighting structures.

Dustin rounded up some rubber mats and laid them upon the wooden benches of a single change room, which youth were using only a few weeks ago to prep for games. The metal door was lockable from the inside and a toilet and shower stall were in an adjacent, closed-off room. The water was cool, but worked.

They slept with one orange light on in the corner of the room. The sound of gurgling pipes from within the walls sang them to sleep.

Jess dreamed of Toni. It seemed like the first time he had really thought of her in days. He had focused so strongly on getting his sons through this that he hadn’t allowed her into his waking thoughts – so she had invaded her dreams.

Many of his dreams went back to their high school days – defining moments, perhaps.

In this dream, Jess was in crutches, as he was after the accident. As his career fizzled, so did his confidence.

Toni was rubbing his back, moving her hands in small circles, smoothing out the muscles, comforting the flesh and perhaps, it seemed, the soul too. She hadn’t cared that he wouldn’t be the star athlete any longer.

He began to make appreciative sounds, and his body fell back against her slightly. She kissed his neck and he found her lips were cold. He turned his shoulders and looked at her. Her eyes were blank, her mouth open and the moan – a single monotone pitch that only changed in volume – began softly and escalated until Jess awoke to the feeling that both his heart and lungs were frozen.

Michael was fiddling with something and the noise roused him. He was doing something in the corner of the room. He had gathered some items the night before, like hockey sticks, and ice skates abandoned by former players. He had managed to fashion several interesting weapons by dis-attaching the blade from a skate and attaching it to the end of the stick with dozens of layers of sturdy hockey tape keeping it together.

“How will that work?” Jess said, approaching him.

Michael held one out to him to take. “You swing it like a baseball bat. The blades are pretty sharp and they’re thick and strong. If they don’t break skin, they’ll crack skulls.”

Michael had fashioned three of them. There seemed no point in making one for Dustin, who was too small and frail to be able to do much with it apart from hurting himself, but still Michael handed it over and described how best to use it.

Jess found them all a change of clothes. It was hard to tell if they were completely clean but they smelled fresher than what they were all wearing, so they threw on the hockey jerseys and thermal underwear and pulled their jackets and pants on overtop.

His boys were starting to look tired and exhausted – no doubt exactly how they felt. The skin around their eyes was starting to darken and their eyes didn’t look as alert as they once had been.

When they were ready to move again they found a river not far from the rink. It gave off a strange odour, like sewage, but not quite the same. Dustin noticed a rowboat tied to the shore a short ways upstream and suggested they use it. Barring the discovery of a car, it was clearly the quickest way to get moving but Jess didn’t think that any of them were crazy about getting back in a boat again, especially since the current seemed intent on taking them in the wrong direction. There were more bodies floating down the river – one went by every two minutes – and not all of them were lifeless.

They kept moving on foot, finding what appeared to be the main road. Cars were scattered here and there, not as frequently found as those in Toronto, but enough that they had to stop every few minutes to see if the vehicle on the road had H-gas or keys at the ready.

The temperature was getting colder and the passing clouds seemed to be picking up speed as well.

They moved on, walking towards the purple horizon. Even the trees lining the sides of the road seemed to be suffering. All it took was a strong gust of wind to set a good dozen leaves spiralling to the ground and being that it was most definitely supposed to be warmer than this, Jess wasn’t sure that things would ever get back to normal any time soon.

At one point they came across a car that had careened off the road and into the thick trees that lined its path. Jess moved in closer while telling the others to stay back. The front was smashed. The fractured windshield appeared a fragile puzzle completed by unknown hands. The interior was blackened, like plastic kept under the sun for too long. The steering wheel was sunken and misshapen.

Something in the front seat, no more identifiable than saying that it was some badly burned carcass of an animal, was still moving, wheezing sounds coming from wherever its mouth might have been. The seat belt was still in place, keeping the thing from getting out.

Jess walked backwards from the vehicle to his children.

They found a suitable clearing in the woods that night that provided a clear view of all directions. Michael had a tarp that he had found back at the arena. He managed to tie it to the limbs of several trees and created a roof for them. It was not a comfortable evening and each of them had an empty stomach, having eaten nothing but processed foods confiscated from vending machines and confectionery counters that morning.

Michael had also found a lighter earlier in the day but they decided with safety in mind not to use it unless they absolutely needed to. It had the very likely possibility of attracting the wrong kind of curiosity.

They sat in a triangle, each positioning their back against a large tree. Dustin eventually moved closer to his father and he welcomed him into his arms where they both fought against the night’s cold together.

“I’ve got you, my son.”

They eventually found their way back to the main strip of road that led to the general area of the lighthouse and Jess now knew he had their bearings straightened out. There were too many rocks and things that made noise under their feet at the side of the road so they walked straight down the middle of the road on the yellow line.

When they neared the parking lot where the van was, Jess could see dozens of the zombies wandering around the area. He knew there was no way they were going to avoid them all and get to the van untouched. Even if it was possible, he wasn’t willing to try it.

“Michael,” he said. “What were you doing that day when the zombie grabbed you out of the water?”

“Throwing rocks at the zombies.”

“But at first, you threw them in the water, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And did that get their attention?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. We’re going to do that again. Do you think you can hit the water from here?”

Michael looked. It would be a long throw.

“I think so.”

“Great. Here’s what we do: we’ll both throw about five rocks, high and far and try to hit the water. That will get their attention away from us and we can bolt for the van.”

The idea seemed to work. Though the zombies heard them sprint across the parking lot, they had wandered over to the water to discover the source of the thrown rocks and were too far to intercept them.

Jess didn’t realize until they were right up against the van that there was another vehicle, identical in almost every way, parked right behind theirs.

“Get in the van,” Jess told the boys.

“What’s wrong?”

“Get in the van!”

Roscoe came out from behind the vehicle. He looked a little beaten up and bloodied.

A gun was in his hand, pointed directly at Jess.

“It’s been quite a trip,” Roscoe said. “But here we are.”

Roscoe sat down on the back fender of the van, which also served as a step up into the back storage compartment.

“You know, it didn’t have to come to this. We were both slaves before the world changed. I used to be a courier driver, did you hear that?”

“Someone said something along those lines.”

“I had to work for the man. Even in this day and age, old, fat rich businessmen ad to have pieces of paper shipped all over the place.”

“What do you want?” Jess said.

“I want what you took from me, and some interest for making me come all this fucking way to get it!”

Roscoe was tapping the gun against his leg.

“How did you find us?”

“We put a backup GPS tracker in the van. You never would have found it.”

“Okay, so now what?”

“Now you give me what’s mine. I want the smartcard, I want the H-gas from your vehicle, the ginger kid and something to teach you a lesson!”

Roscoe pointed the gun at Jess’s feet, moving it from one to the other.

“Listen, about Daniel...”

“Who?”

“The kid from your place that came with me.”

Loud banging was happening on the back doors of the van, right behind where Roscoe was sitting.

He jumped up and turned around.

“What the fuck! You locked them in there?”

Roscoe’s eyes narrowed as he watched Jess, indicating that he was trying to figure something out.

“Open it up!”

“But, wait...”

“Open it, now!”

Jess hesitated and Roscoe hit him in the side of the head with the gun.

Jess went down, dizzied and in pain.

“Get out of the way!”

Roscoe stepped over Jess and pulled open the door, with a foot up on the step.

Toni came forward, somewhat emaciated but a sight to behold. She bit down on Roscoe’s face, clomping down on his nose.

A painful shriek came from his throat and it morphed into a gurgle, as blood sprayed from his nose and mouth.

Jess pushed Roscoe into the back and closed the door. There was one gunshot bang, another scream and then banging about, as if they were colliding with the walls of the van.

Jess ran to the front where the boys were.

Both were unharmed.

“Is mom okay?” Dustin asked.

“Yes, I think she’s fine,” Jess said.

Jess threw the van in gear. Banging came from the back. Dustin looked at Jess and smiled.

Jess figured they were maybe an hour or two away from their grandparent’s place.

Dustin fiddled through the static of the van’s radio. As he turned the dial there was a split second of voice. Jess pushed his hand aside and moved it back, focusing the signal until they could hear it.

“...we’re not out of danger but the remedy seems to be working. I repeat, high dosages of concentrated oxygen directly into the affected lungs appear to reinvigorate the heart. Our doctor has indicated the infection brings the heart’s rate down to almost imperceptible levels. The infected are acting on primal instincts only - the core processes of the brain are the only ones working until the oxygen therapy is applied.”

The message was repeated over and over again on 96.3 FM. There was giddiness to the man’s voice, like he was announcing that everyone had won the lottery.

“Can we do it dad?” Dustin said.

“I don’t know where to get oxygen. Maybe at a hospital.”

Michael worked the smartcard.

There’s a home oxygen place about 10 minutes from grandpa’s house. It’s call MaxAir”

“Okay, sounds good. Can you direct us there?”

The store was locked but Jess knew it probably wasn’t going to be for long. If there were other survivors, they were probably all going to be on the lookout for these places. He pulled a crowbar out from under his seat and smashed the window of the front door of the shop. No alarm sounded. At the front desk were various pamphlets. Jess shoved one called
How to Safely Use your Home Oxygen
into his pocket.

The canisters were in a back room, of various sizes and shapes, though most were tall thin aluminum shapes that looked like the things they used at amusement parks to fill up helium balloons.

Jess was only able to grab one of the canisters - it was heavy and storing them in the front between the boys’ legs made for an uncomfortable situation. He also grabbed two packages labelled start-up kits which seemed to include masks and tubes.

Once they had located the highway he was more certain where she was headed, though it was odd how empty the roads were out here. The trees arched over the side of the road like a half-finished tunnel, sprinkled with a light dusting of ash. The whole scene had a very Christmas-like look to it but the boys seemed uninterested with the view  There was an old cement and wooden bridge that led into town that they had had taken hundreds of times in the past. There was an elevated lip in the bridge – midway across – that caused cars to jump for an instant as they traveled across its expanse. Jess slowed down, and passed the bump as slowly as he could, not certain that driving around with condensed canisters was the safest thing to be doing.

There was one main street in town – like a central artery with a few smaller ones that veered off like tree branches. You could count three or four houses off each tributary, at most. Their grandparent’s place had two neighbours; one directly across and one at the end of the street. The last time the city’s population was tallied, it was still under one hundred. It was probably even less now.

It was an older town – the kind of place where old-timers played out the end of their lives and the younger set sought to escape at the first possible opportunity. There hadn’t been kids on Toni’s street for 30 years. Cousins and grown children brought little ones for visits, but you would never find energetic little feet scampering across lawns on a regular basis in these parts. Michael and Dustin seemed so out of place when they came, as if the entire town came to a standstill due to the sounds of their playing. Even squirrels and field critters seemed to stop and listen in awe at the strange spectacle.

Jess was about 10 minutes from Toni’s childhood home when a group of vehicles came into view, blocking the road ahead.

This wasn’t the usual mess of broken and abandoned vehicles that they came across before. This was a coordinated blockage – a tank and a dozen military jeeps were pointed at them.

Jess slowed the vehicle and brought it to a stop about 100 feet from their position.

A man in the foremost vehicle stood up and brought something that looked like a horn to his face.

“This is the Royal Canadian Armed Forces. You need to step out of your vehicle and put your hands up or we will fire.”

The boys looked over at Jess. In a matter of seconds his mind thought over the options. Trying to drive away. Running into the bush. The men looked like real soldiers.

“Get out of my side of the van. Keep your hands up. We’ll be okay.”

The stood in the gravel and four or five of the jeeps were instantly on them, screeching to a stop and causing dirt and dust to blow up all around them.

When the dust-up subsided, they were surrounded by about a dozen soldiers all with guns pointed at them.

“We’re unarmed,” Jess said. “Don’t shoot – these are my children.”

One of the men stepped forward. Older, but wide-shouldered and intimidating, he dropped his gun and pointed a finger instead.

“You don’t have any weapons?”

“There’s a handgun in the glove box,” Jess said, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake.

“Search it,” the man said to the others, and two jumped in.

“How did you survive?”

“Will and luck, I guess,” Jess said.

“Are you sick or hurt?”

“No,” Jess said.

“Well you’re lucky you made it this far. We’ve got a secure compound here.”

The other soldiers started dropping their weapons to their sides and looked more at ease until the banging in the back of the van started up again.

The soldiers again positioned themselves ready for a fight again.

“What the fuck is that?” the leader said.

“My wife,” Jess said. “She’s sick.”

“Get out of the way,” the man said, pushing Jess aside. He walked to the back of the van.

“Open it up!”

One soldier yanked open the door.

They all waited on the dark road, eyes and guns pointed to the opening.

Toni appeared in the doorway, her face and clothes covered in dried blood.

“Jesus Christ!” one of the men said.

“Mom!” Dustin cried out.

Jess though this heart would break and he dropped to his knees.

“Please don’t shoot her! We have oxygen!”

Toni fell from the van onto the road.

The leader looked over at Jess.

“That nut on the radio doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Oxygen doesn’t work. It just drugs them – pacifies them for about an hour with each dose. It’s not a cure.”

“But there must be something else!”

Toni got to her feet and stumbled towards the soldiers, arms out, mouth open.

Orson spoke to Jess firmly – commanding his attention.

“You should stop the children from watching, Jess. Now!”

Jess turned, almost involuntarily, and grabbed the boys around the neck, swung them around and pulled them into his chest. There were trees behind him. Tall pines. A raindrop fell upon his nose and in a matter of seconds, rain filled the air around them as if the skies were giving up on what they held so tightly to.

Several gunshots rang out at the same time, and at first Jess thought perhaps it was thunder.

Jess looked up and saw Toni, covered in bloody bullet holes. It seemed as though acknowledgement could be read on her face, finally. After looking so confused and angry since Jess found her wandering the front lawn of the apartment building, she finally appeared for a frozen moment in time, to understand what had happened.

Her legs gave out and her body slumped to the floor. Michael screamed.

Jess pulled the boys into him again, not realizing that they had broken away from him, and covered their faces with his hand.

“Don’t look,” he said. “Don’t look.”

They composed themselves as best they could.

One of the officers motioned to Jess: “Come on, this way,” he said. “We need to get you guys examined and then I’ll get you a beer. We have a brewery on site and you look like you could use one.”

“No,” Jess said. “Never again.”

Jess stopped mid-stride, grabbed Michael’s hand and picked up Dustin in his other arm.

Dustin let his head rest against his father’s shoulder, experiencing a strange bout of déjà vu or re-experiencing a childhood memory.

His father’s neck was thick and strong and seemed covered in several large white boils.