Dead Quarantine (15 page)

John pointed to the street name sign,
River Street
.

“Do you know how to get to Bloomfield
Street?”

“I do, south part of town, isn't it?”

He felt a burst of hope. “Can you tell me
how to get there?”

John shook his head. “Not really, but if you
keep walking south, you'll eventually get there, but it's a long
way on foot. If you ask me, I would say you best get out of town
quickly. Weird things have been going on.”

“Yeah, with the dead walking and eating
people you can say that again.”

John laughed and Mary looked on smiling.

“That's a very gloomy way to state things,”
John said. “Dead people don't walk, but with the flu pandemic, the
protest, and rioting, it's best we leave town for a while.”

“Protest? Rioting?” Ralph shook his head;
there were much worse things going on than that.

“You scared us a minute there; we thought
you were a rioter or a looter, though when we saw your face draw
back almost to a pure white, we knew you couldn't be one of
those.”

He couldn't believe this. Had they been kept
everyone in the dark? Did they know less than him about what was
really going on?

“Yea,” Mary said, “it has been scary. People
were protesting at the highway access when they closed it down. And
most people from this street went to protest, only to be evacuated.
That was before we were ordered to quarantine ourselves inside our
homes. The military took those who stayed outside protesting away
in an old yellow bus. We stayed inside; most people did. They don't
even answer their doors anymore. Everybody is scared of the flu and
the military.”

John loaded the last box. “Last night, there
was shooting and fires. Lots of shooting really. Must have been
heavy looting and stuff.”

They were finishing up to leave.

“John, could you drive me home?”

“Sorry, we are going north to try the
country road to leave this city.”

He could use a ride at least to someplace
where he knew how to get home. Just walking and hoping for the best
could get him killed.

“St. Mark’s High School, could you get me
there?”

John frowned. “It's in the middle of the
city, but it still is a detour.”

“Oh, come on,” Mary said. “It couldn't hurt.
It would just be a few minutes more.”

John sighed. “Okay, okay, get in.”

His luck might have turned—that was if he
could still speak of luck in the world left to them. He got in and
they drove off. It would not take long to get to the high school.
He would figure out what to do once he arrived there.

What about Tommy? He felt ashamed only now
thinking about his friend. Tommy had been healthy when he left him.
It could be he still was inside the building; the government
probably quarantined his high school—sending the sick away and keep
the healthy ones safe. Maybe this was a sign from God; that he
first went this way because he had to get his friend out. Or it
could be a coincidence. He didn't know. With zombies walking the
Earth, not even physics was sure anymore. He would see what
happened. For now, he would be content with going back to St.
Mark's.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The
zombies walked mindless over the school yard, bumping into each
other, shoving each other aside, falling down, getting up again,
and on and on. Their moans were a continuous drone in her head.
Sarah stood on the edge of the roof, balancing upright with each
gust of wind. She wondered if a real strong gush would blow her
right of the roof. Would she still be alive after the fall? An hour
had passed since she sent zombie Mel and Vic careening over the
same ledge she stood on.

The fires in the distance settled and only
smoke remained. There were houses or cars set on fire. Rioters,
maybe, the soldiers, or just accidents the fire department could
not get to, because instead of doing their jobs, they were roaming
the street for someone to eat. Jump or not jump? Straight down lay
Vic and Mel joined in death by hand. They went together in life as
in death. A tear rolled down her cheek and made the fall she
contemplated making herself. Her last tear, she decided. She got
off the ledge, not realizing that in a world like the one she lived
in now, there would never be enough tears to shed.

Sarah climbed down the ladder to the
landing. She froze. The window was closed. She remembered leaving
it open. Sweat broke out on her forehead. She knocked on the
window. No one was there. Jake was not there; he must have been the
one that had locked her outside. He alone would do something like
that to teach her a lesson for whatever wrong he imagined she had
done. She needed something to break the window. She hurried back up
to the roof, searched every inch of it, and found nothing. How
could he do this to her? She shook her head while gritting her
teeth; it didn't matter why. She had to find a way back inside. If
she stayed here, eventually she would die of thirst. A slow
death.

A withered wooden door in need of
replacement barred the roof access. It must have been in place
since construction of the building in the early fifties. Most
access doors were made of steel, not wood, nowadays. She kicked the
door, putting all her weight behind her kick. The door shuddered,
but that was about it. It might look worn out but it was
sufficiently sturdy. She wouldn't be forcing her way in anytime
soon.

She observed the lock more closely. It was a
normal door handle with a keyhole. She tried it and the door
opened. She felt stupid not having checked it sooner. Someone must
have been lazy or someone left it unlocked. It didn't matter. She’d
take it. Besides, it was not like things were suddenly going to be
easy. She still had to get back to the classroom.

The staircase was narrow; the walls pressed
close on her. Only one person could walk comfortably down the
steps. The stairs went from the roof directly to the ground floor.
There was no access to the first floor. Roof to ground only. A door
barred her exit to the ground level. The joke would be on her if
this one was locked. She pulled it open. A hazmat zombie blocked
the way out. Its back was turned to her. From here, it was about a
hundred yards to the main stairs. It would be a suicide run, but
she had no other choice if she wanted to get back to her group.

Slowly, the zombie turned around. She pushed
the zombie, sending it staggering out of her way. She ran. The
zombie was not the only one; two more walked in her direction.
Using speed and her smaller size to her advantage, she ran between
them, ducking as she went. She slipped past. They put on a chase,
but at that speed, they would never catch her. She turned the
corner right into Mrs. Evergreen's arms; the school nurse had
turned into zombie. The peak of her nose had been bitten off, and
she was missing an eye, gnawed off probably. Sarah slid out of her
grasp and crawled over the floor on all fours before she got back
up. She rushed out of the nurse zombie's reach.

Her heart beating in her throat, she ran
from the narrow escape. The path seemed clear. One more bend and
one more doorway and she would be in the main hall. She turned the
corner to see five zombies; five of the eight she had met in the
classroom the previous day. They hadn’t made it out after all. She
could not stop running. She slid like she had seen baseball players
do when they were trying get to home plate in a pinch. She slid
past the first three and stopped sliding in front of the remaining
two. Their feet and with the doorway were only a few inches out of
reach. Two pairs of hands rushed to grab her. She rolled sideways
away from them, scrambled up, and ran for the opening. Fingers
brushed against her clothes, and the rotten air of decay swamped
after her as she rushed into the main hall.

Four soldiers, including the one who shot
Sam, occupied the hall. Sam lay against the wall. The soldiers had
moved him, although they had neglected covering him up and left him
like road kill to be disposed of later. Served the bastards right,
turning into zombies themselves. It was of little comfort. She
zigzagged between the zombies, dodging their clawing hands, and
rushed up the stairs, jumping the steps by twos or threes. At the
landing where the stair split to the right and left wing, the
zombie she had pushed down the night before waited for her with the
hazmat zombie that had attacked her. Sarah didn't slow down. She
ran full force into them, pushing them against the wall. She jumped
back before they could grab or sink their foul teeth into her. She
fled up the stairs and ran back to the classroom.

The door was locked. She banged on it with
both fists, screaming for them to open up. She heard stumbling from
the other side. She pressed her ear against the door. There was
yelling, arguing. She could not hear what they said, but she
needn't to know who was arguing. She pounded harder on the door,
screaming to them that it was her and she was all right, to open
up.

A sound came from her side. She turned to
look. A zombie had followed her up and was just rounding the
corner. It was not the one in the hazmat; it was one that could
bite her. It stood still, watching her from the end of the hallway.
The sunlight covered half of its decaying body, while the other
half was cast in shade. Sarah rapped her knuckles franticly on the
door, yelling for them to hurry, that a zombie was coming. She
heard a ruckus from the other side, but didn't stop banging her
fist. Quick footfalls closed in. She dared not look. The door was
pulled open, and Zach pulled her in and slammed the door shut. It
hit the zombie's head as it went. They heard a loud crack before
the door close.

Sarah leaned on her knees, each hand cupping
a knee, breathing heavily, just now realizing her narrow escape.
Her body trembled uncontrollably. She paced the room, rubbing her
arms. Why did these things keep happening to her? And why was she
fighting to survive despite the hopelessness of it all?

“We thought you were dead,” Zach said.

She stopped pacing to look at him. Blood ran
from his nose and Les stood next to him with a cut lip. Jake stood
in the corner glaring at them.

“Thanks for saving my life,” she said to
Zach and Les, before she turned to glare at Jake.

Lilly approached her with tears in her eyes,
closely followed by Emily, who had become sort of a shadow to
Lilly.

“The bastard said you went up to the roof
and they got to you. I didn't want to believe him, but it has been
hours. We were about to leave the building when you started to
knock and yell for us to open. I...” Lilly hugged her tightly.
“Jake didn't want us to open the door, saying you must be infected
and about to turn.”

Sarah looked at them, grateful. They stood
up to him for her.

“It's true,” Jake said. “Well, it's
partially. I told them that after you stayed away for an hour that
I assumed you were taken. And when you returned, after hours of
being gone, I was sure there was no possible way you could not have
been bitten. Why stay away so long? Where have you been?”

“You closed the window.”

“I did not. Don't make shit up.” He cut his
eyes away from her; she knew he was lying. He had left her to die.
They didn't even know if it was the bite that turned people into
zombies. Most likely, the flu did. Point was, he just assumed they
had gotten to her and never went to look for her to make sure. He
had just given up on her rather quickly.

“You're so full of shit. I really don't know
what good I ever saw in you. I must have been deranged.”

He grabbed his balls. “This is what you
could not get enough off, and once this shit is over, you will come
running back to me for more. So, bitch, shut up.”

He was wrong. She would never return to him,
and things in this world would not return to how they once were.
She had seen that on the roof.

“I'm done with you.”

She looked at the others. She knew now that
she could depend on them and that with a little effort they could
escape. They had to go about it the same way she made it back,
using their speed and agility to their advantage.

“Lilly? Are you all right?” She nodded. “We
need to leave this place. Better now than later, when hunger and
thirst weaken us.”

“How do we get out?” Les asked.

“We run past them.”

Jake sat down at a nearby desk, putting his
boots on the desk as he said, “They will get you all and have you
for lunch.”

“You are free to stay,” she snapped.

“They are slow and not the most agile, as
long you stay out of reach and don't get cornered or surrounded you
are safe.”

“So when will we move?” Jack said.

“In about fifteen minutes.”

They waited, making peace with what might
come, and she needed a breather. She might have sounded confident,
but she knew it was dangerous. It had not been easy for her to wade
through them; it had been more luck than skill, because half the
time she wasn't even thinking. She grabbed her right hand and kept
it from shaking. They couldn't see how scared she was. She sat down
in the front of the class and stared at the whiteboard. Resting.
Waiting. Afraid.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ralph sat next to John in the passenger's seat. Mary was in the
back. They stood stationary about two hundred yards from the gate.
Behind them, a crowd slowly approached. In front of the school, a
smaller crowd lingered near the gates.

“You have a gun; you'll manage,” John
said.

John's hand gripping the steering wheel
slipped from the sweat under his palms. Every time he glanced back,
his eyes widened a little. On their trip to St. Mark's High School,
they realized that Ralph had not been joking about the dead
walking. John had stopped the car at a red light despite Ralph's
protests that it would not be safe. A bum shambled to the driver’s
side, slammed his face against the glass, and kept slamming it
while snapping his rotten teeth together. Its dead eyes were set on
infinity. It tried again and again to bite through the glass. Both
John’s and Mary’s eyes were glued to it in horror, while Ralph
yelled for John to speed away. John finally snapped out of it at
the first crack in the glass. He had pushed the gas pedal to the
bottom, and the car squealed as they drove away, dragging the
zombie with it a few feet. After that, John had no qualms about
running red lights. He raced past them all.