And This Too: A Modern Fable (3 page)

             
Harley turned back to the car.

             
“Hold it!”

             
The girl swallowed her fear and faced the man. She opened her eyes and found a glock staring at her.

             
“What in the hell!?”

             
“Every man for himself, right?”

Harley discretely grabbed her piece as he continued talking.

“Give me your supplies, and maybe I’ll let you live,” the pig hissed.

             
“You bastard!”

             
He grinned maliciously, thrusting his glock in her face. “Give me your supplies.”

             
The hopeless girl sighed, “Alright, alright,” before grabbing the handle of the door. Two shots left Harley's 9mm before the sneaky officer registered what was going on.

             
The “uuuuuuuuuhggn” of zombies coming over the horizon quickly filled the air. An evil grin crawled onto Harley's face as her mugger's jaw fell.

             
“Please help me! At least give me some bullets for my gun!” The cop begged.

             
Harley hopped into the car, leaving her door open long enough to remark, “Every man for himself, right?”

             
The Caddy's tires kicked up dust as she flew away from the scene, forgetting all about the helpless man. The speedometer bounced as high as it could for more than a half an hour. Finally, Harley decelerated, deciding that she needed to conserve gas and minimize sound levels. As she neared her first destination, the stubborn girl tried not to think about the sneaky piggy being devoured by the ruthless undead like the worthless slab of bacon he was.

*****

The rain brought uncertainty. The ruthless youth had barely driven for an hour when big, fat drops began assaulting the asphalt. Reluctantly pulling over, Harley decided that the rain wouldn’t deter the zombies, but the shrill whine of the tires battling the precipitation would make more sound than the thrum of rubber on dry pavement. She could only hope that she had distanced herself enough from the newest hoard of the unholy infected that she herself had summoned.

             
Reclining the driver’s seat, she closed her eyes, feeling certain that the howl of a ghoul would overpower the thick rain.

*****

Somewhere just outside of New York

             
The pilot flew above the carnage with instructions to observe the disaster and report back to President Abernathy. He was terrified by what he saw. Hoards of the infected and reanimated were shuffling towards high population areas. The damage done by the living was probably just as bad. The pilot noted the veil of smoke that enveloped certain regions of the chaotic town, with binoculars he could barely make out what appeared to be vehicles that had been smashed into sides of buildings.

             
The chopper flew to the edge of the city limits in order to turn around and report back to headquarters when an emergency flare went off nearby. He looked down, naively lowering his altitude.

             
Three tattered city escapees were seeking sanctuary in a field. The pilot reported this via the radio and sent for a second helicopter.

             
After getting an “okay” from his commanding officer, the pilot flew back up to much safer heights, turned around and flew back towards the helpless civilians.

             
To his utter horror and disbelief, the zombies had seen the flare and were hobbling towards the survivors in a large blob. 

             
“Uh, code red! Code red!” He panicked into the radio. “Do not, repeat, DO NOT bring that second chopper to New York. It is too late.”

             
“Roger that.”

             
The pilot flew more circles around the scene waiting in disgust to see what would happen next. He knew he couldn’t help those people, but a twisted part of him wanted to see if they would get away.

             
The walkers advanced with tremendous speed. Fear crushed the three civilians as they realized that the chopper could offer no support. Unfortunately, their gear was back at camp.

             
The pilot decided to head back to D.C when the mass of civilians-turned-ghoul had overpowered the three desperate “survivors”. Just as he was turning around one last time to pass over the city, an alarm went off. Curiosity had gotten the best of him; he was out of fuel.

*****

Harley woke with a start and glanced around the Cadillac. Everything seemed to be fine. It was still raining, but there were no suspicious figures outside. She took a deep breath and pushed her hair up out of her face. Harley wondered what was going on in the rest of the USA…in the rest of the world.

             
She turned the key in the ignition slightly and checked the time. According to the digital read out, it was one o’ clock in the afternoon. It was hard to believe that she'd only begun her journey that day.  Before the clock struck high noon, she had hijacked a car, killed sixteen zombies and possibly a wayward cop, all whilst making it little more than half way to her first destination.

             
Harley turned the key back to the off position.
I wonder how many more walkers I'll encounter,
she thought;
maybe I'll get to run some over
. She smiled to herself at the thought of it.

             
Her feline companion was purring in the seat next to her. Harley surveyed her surroundings again. The rain didn't show any signs of slowing. She sighed and looked around the interior of the vehicle.

             
“This is so cliché,” she whispered to herself. “I wish I had a group of three others with me. I’m sure I would be much more likely to survive if I wasn’t alone, at least, that‘s how it works in the movies…” She bumped the back of her head softly on the headrest and murmured, “A mother fucking Cadillac. Sooooo damn clichaaay.” Harley rolled her eyes and moaned, “I miss my Volvo.”

             
With that final thought, Harley curled up and closed her eyes. The rain fell on the car and the pavement, if she listened closely, she could differentiate the noises. The rain dropped in different tunes on different surfaces. Harley drifted back into a light, dreamless sleep trying to remember a time when the rain would sing her to sleep, instead of bearing down with uncertainty and dread.

Two

Somewhere in Idaho

             
Rose Johnson was scared witless. The newest strain of the flu was rampant in Idaho, and she was certain she’d caught it. Idaho hadn’t gone completely under yet. The police were containing the ill and keeping them separate from healthy, highly populated areas. She had read about it in the newspaper. But Rose lived in Charlie, a small town that didn’t have its own hospital and was fifty miles away from the neighboring city. She began to sweat, even though it was relatively cool in the basement where she and her two best friends had "bugged-in.” Mandy put her hand on Rose’s shoulder.

             
“You okay?” Mandy asked.

             
Rose swallowed sharply and nodded, even though she was lying. She was damnably hot. Sweat dripped from her every pore. She dabbed at her face with her shirt sleeve as she tried to pretend that she would be just fine.

             
Nicki lit a fire in the cast iron stove.

             
“God Nick!” Rose squealed, “Don’t you think it’s already hot enough down here?”

             
Nicki and Mandy exchanged worried glances.

             
“Ro,” Mandy said gently, “it’s only 47 degrees,” pointing at the thermometer hanging on the wall.

             
Rose looked around the candle lit basement. She knew that the fever was setting in. Trying to think up an excuse, Rose mumbled, “I must be getting close to my period, I'm having hot flashes like crazy,” and smiled feebly.

             
Rose didn’t know what the new flu would do to her exactly, she just knew the symptoms. She got up and stood near the stove, the heat had drained from her body and she found herself was shivering uncontrollably. But the fire's heat didn’t seem to do anything for her. It was like standing in front of a low wattage light bulb. Rose’s whole body began to tremble. Nicki eyed Rose with concern while Mandy began making turkey sandwiches.

             
“You guys,” Rose said quietly as a tear ran down her face. “I’m gonna... take a bath.”

             
The other two girls looked at Rose in surprise. She
never
took baths. Rose was a shower person. But her fever was going up, and she was chilled to the bone. She just wanted to take a hot bath and get over this illness as quickly as possible.

             
“Ah-alright,” Mandy replied consolingly.

             
Rose walked down the small, concrete hallway, candle in hand. The power was unreliable, so they kept their food in a cooler filled with a combination of dry ice and cubed ice and had opted to use candles. Rose set the candle on the counter and started filling up the tub. The water steamed as it poured into the white, plastic basin. As the ill girl undressed, the room began to spin.

*****

              Mandy and Nicki sat at the small card table eating their sandwiches.

             
“Something’s wrong with Ro,” Nicki suggested quietly. Mandy looked at her friend in a manner meant to chastise. Nicki shrugged and added, “I’m worried.”

             
Mandy nodded and said, “Me too Nick, me too.”

*****

              Rose lowered herself into the tub and turned the water off. She felt bad for using the water because they didn’t know when the electricity would go out, shutting the water pump off. But they could always boil bottled water on the wood stove if they needed to bathe. Rose rested her head on the ledge and closed her eyes, letting the water envelope her body and wash away all of her upset.

             
She suddenly felt a lot better. Rose opened her eyes and looked at the candles that were placed around the room. The glow of the fire was soothing. She felt at peace. As her eyes fluttered shut once more, Rose Johnson didn’t even feel her heart stop.

*****

              Nicki looked at Mandy and put her sandwich down. “What if Ro has the flu?”

             
Mandy swallowed her bite and said, “We’ll drive down to Shirkswood tomorrow and take her to the hospital.”

             
Nicki got up and walked down the hallway. She pushed on the slightly opened door.

             
“Ro?” She asked softly, stepping into the inviting glow of candlelight. Nicki peeked into the tub. Rose looked blindly at Nicki with her eyes rolled up in her head. Nicki was speechless. Rose puked all over herself.

“Oh. My.
God
! Rose!”

             
Nicki reached to pull Rose out of the tub of thick, bile infected water when Rose’s mouth dropped open violently and let out a screech. Nicki backed out of the bathroom.

             
“Mandy!” she sobbed, sprinting to her still healthy friend.

             
Rose grabbed onto the edge of the tub and pulled herself out, fracturing her ribs and scraping her stomach on the metal track for the tub’s sliding glass door and falling to the linoleum floor with a sloppy thump.

             
Nicki was back in the main part of the basement, trying to explain what she had seen in the bathroom. Rose was too waterlogged to fathom how to stand up, so she crawled down the hallway, letting out hollow screams and low pitched hisses. Nicki yelped as she saw Rose emerge from the shadows. Mandy grabbed Nicki's hand and stood up, knocking the card table over and sending two candles to the floor. The two ran up the stairs with Rose speedily crawling after them. When the cannibalistic twenty year old reached the stairs, she clutched the banister and pulled herself off of the ground.

             
Nicki couldn't stop screeching as Mandy pulled her further up the stairs. When they reached the front door, Mandy flung it open and the two sprinted outside, not bothering to shut the door behind them. Mandy pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed 9-1-1, but it was too late, Rose had finally stumbled her way outside and was advancing on her friends with unbelievable speed.

             
“Run!” Nicki squealed, tripping on her own feet as she began to quicken her pace.

             
Mandy followed Nicki’s lead and continued to run. Her phone slipped out of her hand and clattered to the pavement, ominously skidding to the other side of the street. Rose shrieked again, and to their horror, the call was answered. Two male zombies came around the corner, blocking Nicki and Mandy’s immediate escape route. Large, bloody pustules dominated their faces and most of the surface area of their arms, a result of being infected for days.

             
Nicki's stomach churned. Mandy wailed for help, but her cries were only acknowledged by the ravenously ill. No one was going to risk their own lives because two twenty-something’s couldn’t stay inside and fend for themselves.

*****

Harley awoke when the rain stopped. Close to two hours of sunlight had been wasted. As she eased the SUV off the shoulder of the highway, she was thankful for the daylight that was left. The desolation of the highway was slightly comforting. She looked at the gas gauge. Glancing at the gas gauge, the femme fatale realized that she had less than half a tank left and didn't feel like using her reserves quite yet.

             
Harley decided to see if there were any remaining gas stations open. She pulled off the interstate at the next sign with gas listed as one of the services. She was praying that the little “ma' and pop” gas station would still be open as she pulled in. When Harley stepped out of her car, she was greeted by the whir of a gas powered generator. The landscape around them was desolate. Pixel was napping in the passenger seat, unaware of the change in scenery.

As Harley made her way to the entrance, the lights turned on inside. A long, lanky man opened the door for her, looking around suspiciously before locking the door and turning the lights off again. Harley followed the man, whose name tag read: “Christian”, into the back room where stock was stored.

              “The generator isn’t very secretive,” Harley whispered to the man who was pulling something off a shelf.

             
“You’re telling me,” he replied, smiling a little. “I’m trying to use up all the gas we have here. Pretty soon those monsters will be here and any excess fuel will be used to torch the bastards.”

             
Harley looked at him in amazement. “Are you actually going to help me?” She stuttered anxiously, thinking back to her last encounter with a survivor, “Because that would be great.”

             
Christian looked her over. She was beautiful in his opinion. She was about five foot three with dark brown eyes flecked with gold. Her mahogany hair was pulled into low pigtails that framed her golden-bronze face.

             
“What are you?” He asked simply.

             
She looked at him quizzically.

             
He shrugged and said, “I’m sorry if I seem too forward, but what are you mixed with racially. It seems like we’re all going to die soon, so screw manners. I’m not going to miss this chance.”

             
Harley giggled and blushed a little before replying, “African-American, Sioux, and mixed European.”

             
“Beautiful.” Christian said, smiling, thinking how lucky he was to be able to help this angel, of all the demons who could have showed up. “So, you want some gas?”             

             
“Yes please.”

             
Christian looked at his feet, “How far you goin’?”

             
“Sandy's Beach…then I might go back to Ivana’s.”

             
Christian held out a package to her. “Here, this will come in handy.”

             
Harley took it and looked at the box. The label read: “Gas Siphoning Kit”. She looked at him questioningly.

             
The clerk swept his shaggy, golden brown hair out of his face. “You can fill your tank and two of the five gallon gas cans,” he added. “I don’t need all that fuel.”

             
Harley studied the clerk and noticed how young he was. “I plan on dying here,” he added, turning his stunning blue eyes towards the ceiling. “They took my parents from me; this station is all I have left. I don’t plan on going down without a fight.”

             
“Why are you helping me?”

             
Christian shrugged and replied, “In these crazy times, there should still be humanity,” with a coy smile.

             
Harley hugged him, making the young man blush.

             
“Thank you,” she whispered in his ear, standing on her tip-toes.

             
Harley didn’t know who the lanky, kind-faced boy was but felt contented by him. Perhaps it was just that she was lonely or that he had a sparkle in his blue eyes despite the strangeness around them.

             
“Just survive for me angel,” he replied softly. “Just keep survivin’.”

             
Harley nodded, biting back emotion. "I will, I promise."

             
Without words the two of them went back to the front of the store. Christian readied the pump nearest the SUV as Harley went outside. She tossed the Gas Siphoning Kit in the back seat and pulled up to the pump. Harley filled up the tank and the two emergency cans that Christian had gifted her before going back inside.

             
Harley smiled sadly. “Thank you. For everything.”

             
Christian nodded. "Anything for you, angel."

             
As she pulled out of the lot, she waved to the lonely gas station attendant.

             
A pang of guilt surged through her for leaving the young man behind, so she howled obscenities at the steering wheel as she got back on the interstate.

*****

              Harley pulled over. She was nearing her first destination: Home, a few miles outside of Sandy’s Beach. But, she had been driving for so long that her feet were falling asleep, which Harley didn’t even know was possible. Once the engine cut off, she got out, shook her tingling asleep feet one at time, and stretched. The closer she got to civilization, the more cars littered the highway.

             
In need of a change of pace from the monotonous motion of driving, Harley walked from car to car looking inside the windows. The first car, a VW bug, proved empty. Harley skipped to the next car and nearly fainted upon seeing what was inside the blue Chevy Malibu.

             
A whole family of undead monsters was just sitting there, rocking back and forth. Dad’s face had practically melted off. Mom’s head lolled to one side as if her neck had snapped from the sheer weight of it. Sissie and Bro wobbled in the back seat. It was the typical atomic family. The girl wore pig tails in her matted hair and the boy wore a blue and white striped T-shirt, and a SG brand flat bill.