“Mitchell Harrington,” he says. “I’ve
been hiding in my condo for a week. I was supposed to have a ride out of the
city, but they never showed. I decided to get out myself, but those things
attacked me.” He shakes his head. “What’s going on?”
“You’re smack dab in the middle of a
zombie apocalypse,” Angus says.
Mitchell shakes his head again, like he
can’t focus or doesn’t believe us. All the color drains from his face and his
eyes get huge. “You have to be kidding.”
I push a mass of blonde hair out of my
eyes and point back the way we just came. “Wasn’t that horde of dead bodies
attacking you proof enough?”
He turns even paler and sits back in his
seat, clutching his briefcase tightly to his chest.
Axl does a quick drive around the block
before taking us back to the hotel. We pull into the parking lot and jump out.
There aren’t many bodies around; most seem to have run off after Axl when he
drove away the first time, but there are still a few.
Mitchell drags his feet, so I grab his
arm and pull him forward. “You’re going to have to move faster than that if you
don’t want to get eaten.”
I scoop up the bag of medicine as I walk
by. Once we’re inside, the three of us walk to the elevator with Mitchell
trailing slowly behind us.
“The Mark Hopkins?”
I slam my finger against the button.
“We’re on the eighteenth floor.”
“The California suite? That’s over
$7,000 a night.”
“Not anymore it ain’t,” Angus says.
Mitchell must be in shock. He won’t stop
clutching that stupid briefcase to his chest like it’s some kind of life
preserver. This guy is going to be a major pain in the ass. Not only that, but
I’m not sure he’s going to be able to adjust to the fact that he’s no longer
rich and important.
“So what did you do, before the virus
hit?” I ask as the elevator goes up.
“I started my own Internet dating
service,” he says. “Soul mate dot com.”
Angus and Axl both laugh, but I don’t.
It may sound lame, but that service was huge. This guy was loaded. Not that
it’s going to do him any good now.
“How’d that treat you?” Angus asks with
a smirk.
Mitchell doesn’t seem to understand that
Angus is making fun of him. “I made fifteen million dollars last year.”
Angus’s mouth drops open just as the
elevator door does the same.
“SO
WHERE ARE YOU GUYS HEADED?” Mitchell asks.
He sits on a chair in the living area
still clutching the briefcase while he watches everyone else pack. He hasn’t
moved from that spot since he got here, and I’m beginning to wonder if he’s
ever going to snap out of it.
I’m on the couch across from him with
Emily’s head is in my lap. She’s out cold. “I think we’re going to try and head
into the country somewhere. Find a farm or vineyard that’s been abandoned and
try to survive.”
Mitchell looks down at the briefcase
like it holds the answers to all of life’s problems. I wish it did. Maybe
there’s a genie in there, and if we rub it he’ll pop out and make all this
horror disappear. Or at least find us a safe place to live out the rest of our
sad lives.
“You could come with me to Vegas,”
Mitchell says so quietly that I wonder if I heard him wrong. I search his face,
but he doesn’t even blink. Yup, I heard him right. He must be insane.
Before I can say anything Angus, who
just happened to be walking by when Mitchell said it, cuts me off. “Hell no,
boy. We ain’t goin’ to Vegas.”
“Well, it’s not Vegas exactly,” Mitchell
says. “It’s um…in the Mojave Desert.” He pauses and licks his lips nervously.
His grip on the briefcase tightens. “It’s about an hour outside of Vegas. In
the middle of nowhere, really.”
I shake my head. He’s nuts alright. “Why
would we want to go to the middle of nowhere?”
“Shit. We gotta find someplace green
where we can grow us some food. Not the desert. That’s the dumbest idea I ever
heard,” Angus barks.
“Well, it’s not like there’s nothing
there.” Mitchell clears his throat like he’s working up to something big.
“There’s a, um—a shelter there.”
My heart races. What’s he talking about?
Why doesn’t he just come out with it? “What kind of shelter?”
A few other people have stopped packing
and are now standing around, staring at Mitchell. No one talks.
“It’s an old missile silo that was built
by the government back during the Cold War. There was this company that bought
a bunch of them and renovated them. They sold them off to wealthy clients as a
place to go in the event of a catastrophe.”
“Wait a minute!” Al steps forward. He’s
practically bouncing up and down. “Are you talking about the Atlas missile
silos?” Mitchell nods and Al’s smile stretches across his face. He looks around
the room like an eager kid. He acts like we should all know what Mitchell’s
talking about. “I read all about these places online.” He turns back to
Mitchell and his eyes are so big and full of excitement that my heart starts
pounding faster. “Did you buy into one of these things?”
“Yes,” Mitchell says flatly.
“So it’s kinda like a fallout shelter?”
Axl asks. His gaze moves to Emily’s face, slack from sleep. His eyes flash with
hope.
Mitchell nods, but Al shakes his head.
“It’s more like underground luxury condos. These places are amazing. They have
all the amenities of the most expensive apartment buildings in any city. And
more. Complete with a gym, a pool, a movie theater, and library.” Al puts up
his fingers as he names things, like he’s checking items off a list. “They even
had small hospitals. But most importantly, they were stocked with enough
provisions to sustain a group of people underground for five years.”
My heart leaps. A small spark of hope
lights up inside me. Five years? That’s better than anything we could do at a
farm.
No one speaks for a second, and then all
at once the room explodes. Mitchell just sits in his chair, still clutching his
briefcase while everyone shouts questions at him. He doesn’t answer any.
“Okay, everyone!” Winston calls. “Let’s
quiet down so we can get some answers.” He looks at Mitchell. “You’re saying
there’s a shelter out there you can take us to and there will be room for
everyone?”
Mitchell nods, but then shrugs. “There
should be.”
“What do you mean, ‘should be?’” Axl
asks. “We ain’t drivin’ you all the way to the middle of nowhere for that.”
Mitchell clears his throat again. Why
does he seem so nervous and unsure? Is it us or him? “Well, the shelter was
made to sustain fifty people for five years, and the condos sold out.”
“So you’re saying it was full?” Jessica
asks.
Al shakes his head. “That’s insane.
Wasn’t it like three million dollars to buy one of those things?”
“Something like that,” Mitchell says
with a shrug. There’s something about his attitude that bugs me.
“So there isn’t room.” All the hope that
had been there a few seconds ago melts off Sophia’s face. She hugs onto Ava so
tightly the little girl winces.
“That’s just it,” Mitchell says. “Most
of the population has died. What are the odds that everyone who bought one of
these condos is still around?”
“Not good,” Winston mumbles. He looks at
Mike and rubs the back of his neck.
Mike scratches his beard. “So what’s
this place like? Where is it?”
“It’s literally in the middle of the
desert. I have coordinates to get there.” Mitchell finally pulls the briefcase
away from his body and opens it. “And it’s pretty much what the kid said it is.
Underground condos with all the amenities. A generator, food and supplies to
last five years, as well as a state of the art security system.”
Emily shifts a little in her sleep and I
brush the hair out of her face. We need this. I need to get her somewhere safe.
I try to remain calm, try not to get my hopes up. It isn’t easy. “So what’s on
the surface?”
Mitchell pulls out a couple papers and
hands them out. I take one, and my eyes grow wide as I study it. It’s a cutaway
picture of the shelter and it literally looks like an underground apartment
building, except it’s rounded like a silo. There are eighteen floors
underground, with living areas on most of them. But on other levels there’s a
pool and a clinic, a movie theater and a gym. Everything a rich person could
need at the end of the world.
“On the surface it’s just a small
building made of steel and concrete. It’s bullet and blast proof, and there’s a
keypad for entrance, so the owners can get access.” Mitchell bites his lip and
sits quietly while everyone passes the pictures around the room.
“So, you’re just gonna let us in if we
take you there?” Axl’s voice is hard. His lips purse and his eyes narrow on
Mitchell. He doesn’t trust this man. It puts me on edge. Axl is a good judge of
character.
“I was waiting for the company
helicopter to pick me up. They were supposed to come a week ago, but obviously
that didn’t happen. They must have all died. I didn’t know anything about these
zombies, so I decided to just make it there on my own somehow. You saw how well
that went.” Mitchell shakes his head. “I’m obviously not equipped to handle
this on my own, and you people seem to know what you’re doing. If you could get
me there I’d be more than happy to plead your cases with whoever is inside. I’m
sure they’d let you in. There has to be room. You have a doctor with you,
that’s helpful, and I’m sure there are other skills you people possess that
would make having you around useful.”
He sits back when he’s done talking and
stares at us. Waiting. The way he keeps saying
you people
irritates me.
It’s condescending and arrogant. Axl may be right about this guy.
“So we drive you all the way out there
and you’re just gonna let us in?” Axl asks him.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
Axl shakes his head. “He ain’t gonna let
us in. He just needs a ride and then he’s gonna leave us out in the desert!”
“No, I wouldn’t do that!”
“Why would someone do something like
that?” Sophia asks.
Angus spits into his coke can and
adjusts the gun at his waist, like he’s trying to intimidate Mitchell. “‘Cause
he’s rich and he thinks he’s better than us.”
“No one is rich anymore,” Arthur says,
watching Mitchell carefully.
I am too, so I notice the look of
contempt that flashes through his eyes. But it’s gone so fast I doubt anyone
else caught it.
Mitchell meets Arthur’s gaze. “I swear I
will let you in.”
Axl shakes his head, but doesn’t argue.
Emily moans in her sleep and he’s by her side in the blink of an eye. His expression
softens and he brushes the hair out of her face. Arthur glances toward Emily
too, like he’s checking to make sure she’s okay. We’re all on edge. Like it or
not, this guy may be our only hope of survival.
The room is silent while everyone
considers Mitchell’s offer. Their expressions range from worry to excitement
and everything in between. And I’m right there with them. I
want
to
believe this guy. To think there’s a place out there with our names on it where
we’ll be safe and taken care of, but a voice in my head tells me to be
cautious. Something about Mitchell worries me. The calm way he just sits in the
chair waiting for us to decide, like he thinks we owe it to him just because
he’s someone special. Someone important.
Winston clears his throat and steps
forward, so he’s standing right in front of Mitchell. “Look, I don’t know if
what Axl is saying is true, but he’s right. If we go out of our way to take you
across the desert, we’re going to need some kind of reassurance.”
Mitchell’s face is blank as he meets
Winston’s gaze. “What did you have in mind?”
“The code. You said we can’t get in
without it, so share it with us.”
He clutches the briefcase tighter. “How
do I know you won’t just kill me or leave me behind?”
“You’ll have to trust us,” Arthur says.
“Like you’re trusting me?” Mitchell
shakes his head again. “I can’t.”
Everyone’s silent for a moment and
Mitchell goes back to biting his lip. He seems to do it whenever he’s thinking
something through. “I’ll make a deal with you. It’s about ten hours from here
to the shelter. I’ll tell you the code when we’re halfway there. If I feel like
I can trust you. If you get me halfway and I don’t think I can, we’ll just part
ways. How’s that sound?”
Winston looks around at everyone else.
No one argues, and a few people even nod. Axl’s eyes are still hard.
“Looks like we have a deal,” Winston
says.
Mitchell smiles and relaxes for the
first time since we picked him up. “When do we leave?”
“Soon as we’re packed,” Winston says.
“Let’s get a move on.”
Everyone gets back to packing. Emily
opens her eyes just as Axl stands. He stops and brushes his hand against her
cheek so gently it makes my heart twist. Emily barely reacts. She turns her
face toward Axl, but she doesn’t blink or smile or talk. He swallows and gets
up without saying anything.
I move Emily so she’s lying on the couch
with her head on a pillow. I need to help pack. She doesn’t make a sound.
Sophia darts a worried look her way, but I ignore it.
Winston pauses on his way through the
room. “How is she?”
I stare down at my daughter. “She’s
awake, but seems to be in shock. She still hasn’t said a word.” I have to stop
when my throat constricts. Reality has never been my friend, but this is almost
too much to bear. Emily has to be okay. She doesn’t have a fever, but I don’t
like how pale her face is or the lethargic way she stares at the ceiling.
Winston pats my arm, but there isn’t an
ounce of hope in his eyes. “She’ll pull through.”
“We’re headed down,” Angus calls.
Winston shifts the box he’s holding and
pats my arm again, then heads to the door. He, Axl, Angus, and Mike start
making trips to the car while the rest of us get the room packed. I help, but I
stay close to Emily. Just in case she needs me. Or in case she gets worse.
Mitchell doesn’t move from the chair.
Doesn’t offer to help get things ready or take things down to the car. He even
has the nerve to ask Sophia to get him a drink like she’s his maid.
He watches Emily. Every time I look up
he’s staring at her with narrowed eyes, chewing on his lip. My body is tense. I
know what’s going through his head.
“Is she sick?”
I give him a cold stare. “She was
bitten.”
“She’s not coming,” he snaps. “She could
be infected and it’s too big of a risk. You have to leave her.”
Emily looks at him with wide eyes. She
turns to look at me. It’s the most responsive she’s been since she was bitten.
I give her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, honey. We’re not leaving you.”
“Yes, we are.” Mitchell stands up. He’s
still hugging that briefcase.
“You got a problem?” Axl says from
behind me. I’m not sure how much of the conversation he’s heard, but I do know
this is not going to end well for Mitchell.
“She’s been infected.” Mitchell points a
shaky finger at Emily. “She’s not coming with us.”
“We don’t know nothin’ yet,” Axl says.
“It might not even work that way.”