Grace Lost (25 page)

Louisa’s hand gripped mine almost
uncomfortably.  I squeezed back.

We quietly returned to the cabin.

It was late afternoon by the time
we finished discussing plans for the next day.  We had loaded the van with
supplies for the trip.  We wanted to be sure to be prepared to be gone for
more than the day in the event of any unexpected delays.  We ate canned stew
and leftover chili that night, and settled in for bed early.  I fell
asleep with a knot in my stomach.

We woke before dawn in preparation
for the scavenging trip.  There was very little conversation between any
of us.  Emilie and I heated water for tea, and set out bowls for dry
cereal.  The others leisurely joined us in the kitchen. 
Understandably, no one looked particularly excited about venturing back out
into the world.

After breakfast, we all put on an
extra layer of clothes and headed outside to get situated in the van. 
Julio had helped attach a bracket to the outside of the front door and Gus tied
an extravagant knot using twine.  He said it wouldn’t keep anyone
intelligent out, but we’d be able to see if it had been tampered with upon our
return.  It was a safeguard against reentering the cabin to find unwelcome
intruders waiting.  I had suggested the leather chair from our bedroom be
moved down to the living room as an extra seat, and for the day it was located
in the step van as a comfortable place for Louisa to sit.  The van only
had two seats, both situated in the cab.  Julio took his place behind the
wheel, with Gus occupying the passenger seat.  Boggs was sitting on a
bucket placed upside down between the other two men.  Susan had claimed a
wheel well for herself, so Emilie and I shared the other.   We were
able to keep in contact with the cab since it had an open walkway between the
front and back of the vehicle.

Julio skillfully backed the step
van around so it faced the long drive, and eventually we proceeded
forward.  Less than a mile up, we passed the abandoned Explorer.  It
looked just as we’d left it, except for being moved to the side of the rough
drive and emptied of the supplies we had hauled.

“Julio, on our way back in let’s
tow the Explorer back to the cabin,” said Gus. 

“Sure thing,” replied the young
driver.

The van swayed, the ruts in the
road being exaggerated by the nature of the large vehicle.  I knew we were
back on the main highway when the ride smoothed.  I was glad, since my
stomach was already reacting to the motion of the van.  I hadn’t thought
to bring a vomit bag.  I looked over and saw that Louisa was resting her
head on the back of the leather easy chair, her eyes closed.  She clutched
a rosary in her hand and her lips were moving almost imperceptibly.  I
could tell she was praying, and was glad for it.  I had a hunch we might
need all the favors we could call in today.

           
“How’s your hip feeling?” asked Emily quietly.

           
“A little better, I think.”

           
“Good,” she answered.

           
Susan was staring at me, and I did my best to ignore her.  I didn’t want
to give her the satisfaction of acknowledgement.  I let my mind wander as the
van swayed gently, thinking back to when I was about ten years old and Boggs
and I spent the day exploring a small cave not far from where we lived.  I
had wanted to pretend we were cavemen, and he played along to please me. 
The day had ended with us smearing ourselves head to toe with mud from the
riverbank to camouflage ourselves.  My mom had been furious when I came
home filthy.  I loved that memory.  It had been a great day.  I
found myself thinking that my mom would be happy knowing I was with Boggs now,
with the whole mess going on around us.  Deep in thought, I didn’t hear
Boggs talking to me at first. 

           
“Zoe, you doing ok?”

           
I finally looked up. 
“Hmm?”

           
“You ok?  You look a million miles away.”

           
“Just thinking.
  I’m fine.”  I smiled for
his benefit.  In truth I was scared.  Not just scared about our
scavenging trip, but scared about the future.  Boggs returned the smile
then twisted around to face forward again.

           
We must have been driving for half an hour or so when the step van came to a
slow stop.

“Looks like the road’s blocked,”
announced Gus. “
There’s
six wrecked cars that we can
see.  Everyone sit tight while we figure out what to do.”

I felt the tiniest flutter of
foreign activity in my brain.  It was almost as light as mosquito wings
beating against satin.

“Be careful.  I can feel one
of them,” I said.

Gus nodded, understanding that I
was aware of a zombie presence.  “Thanks for the warning, Zoe.”

“It’s faint, Gus.  I’m not
sure if that means it’s far away or what.”

“Freaky,” whispered Susan. 
“Can you seriously sense one?”

I nodded, not wanting to speak
about it.

“What’s it like?” pressed the
woman sitting across from me on the other wheel well.

I contorted my face in
thought.  “Well, this time it’s like a little tickle in my head.  But
the other two times I could feel their hunger.  I saw images of what they
were experiencing.  It was horrible.”

Susan was at a loss for words, to
my relief.

Julio spoke to Louisa in
Spanish.  Boggs instructed the rest of us to stay in the van until they
came back from inspecting the crash site.  Louisa kindly told us that
Julio had said the same to her.  As the men left the van and slowly walked
toward the wrecked vehicles, we girls crowded into the cab so we could
observe.  The first vehicle they came to was an old Toyota pickup. 
The canopy from the bed was across the road, broken into several pieces. 
We watched as Julio opened the driver’s door and looked through the small
cab.  While he did so, Gus moved to the next vehicle, an old Ford station
wagon with faux wood paneling running its length.  He put his face close
to the passenger window, and then backed away quickly as if alarmed.  I
saw him raise his shotgun and reach for the door handle.  Emilie was
holding her breath beside me and clung to my arm desperately.

An image flashed through my
mind.  I could see Gus’ face, distorted by the reflection of light on
glass.  The tickle in my head grew and the desire for flesh filled me with
sourness.

“It’s in the car, looking at Gus,”
I whispered.  “It wants to eat him so badly.”

From the corner of my eye I saw
Louisa make the sign of the Cross. 

“He’s opening the door,” said
Susan.  There was dread in her voice.  “He shouldn’t open the door.”

“It wants to get at him so bad but
it can’t get out,” I moaned.  “It can’t get free of the seatbelt.” 
What I saw next I’ll not soon forget.  I saw the barrel of a shotgun
staring me in the face.  I knew it was the creature’s eyes seeing it and
not truly my own, but the image was so clear inside of my head.  There was
a flash of light for the smallest fraction of a second as the shotgun
discharged, and then the things that didn’t belong in my head were gone. 

Finally seeing just for myself
again, I watched Gus close the car door with his booted foot and turn back
toward the other men.  He was splattered in congealed blood and decayed
bits of flesh.  Boggs had his Kahr gripped in both hands, aiming it down
toward the asphalt but obviously ready to use it.  He skirted the station
wagon and moved to a traditional and beat-up Volkswagen Bug.  He kept his
arms slightly
outstretched,
gun still in hand, as he
peered inside.  The passenger door hung open, so he walked around to sort
through the car.  I saw him pull out a large purse and shoulder it. 
Julio had popped the hood of the Toyota truck and was messing around under the
hood.

“I don’t think
there’s
any more creatures,” I whispered. 

“Should we go help them?” asked
Louisa.

“I can go.  Louisa, maybe you
should stay here?” I suggested.

She nodded.  “I’ll just
stretch then come back in.”

I looked over to Susan and
Emilie.  Susan wore a look of dread, fright, and nausea all rolled into
one.

“I can’t go out there,” she moaned
softly.

“Em?”
I called to my friend.

“I’ll be right beside you,” she
answered.

Emilie and I walked to the wreck,
taking each step slowly until we were sure all three men were aware of our
presence.   Gus looked like something the cat had dragged in, shaken,
and pawed at over and over.  There was a small stream running beside the
highway, so Emilie took off her sweatshirt and got it wet, then handed it to
the man.  He took off his shirt, thanked her, and used the wet cloth to
wipe his face and arms.

“Everything feels calm now that
you shot it,” I whispered to Gus. 

“Thanks for the update,
Zoe.”  He winked at me.  I smiled back.

Boggs had just cleared the last
three vehicles and motioned us over.  We walked together, Emilie and I,
till we were close enough to not have to raise our voices to speak.

“The last three cars are clear,
girls.  Do you want to search them for anything useful?” asked Boggs.

“Sure, Boggs,” replied
Emilie.  “Glad to help.”

“Be careful, just in case.”

I nodded back to him
silently.  I was fatigued from my episode in the cab of the van, seeing
through the zombie’s eyes.

Emilie and I split up and walked
to two separate cars to search them.  She chose a Chevrolet Tracker, which
was rather small, and I opted for the only two-seater in the mix, which was
even smaller.  It was a green MGB, an old roadster.  The soft top was
down, so looking through the inside was easy.  There was an abandoned
backpack behind the passenger seat and a case of beer behind the driver’s
seat.  I unzipped the pack and searched the contents.  It contained a
large hunting knife, a t-shirt, a pair of socks, a pair of yoga pants, three
sixteen ounce bottles of water, and a box of granola bars.  Someone must
have been in a huge hurry to leave the commodities behind.  I zipped the
pack closed and put it over my arms to settle on my back as it was meant to be
worn.  I grabbed the case of beer and set it on the hood.  I walked
back to the interior and looked through the glove box.  A small pistol sat
under loose papers.  I wasn’t a fan of guns but knew it was a revolver. 
I picked it up, took a chance on figuring out how to open the cylinder, and
discovered it had six rounds left.  I set it on top of the beer, and then
moved to the driver’s side in search of a trunk release.  Not finding one,
I walked around to the back and realized the little keyhole arm was a
handle.  I managed to open it, and then made sure the hold bar latched in
place.  There was a medium sized suitcase on wheels and two tote
bags.  They were all relatively light, so I hauled them to the front of
the car.  I thought it would be wise to sort through them later instead of
here in the open where we were vulnerable.

 I looked over to the station
wagon, where the three men had congregated.  They had gone back to the
step van at some point and fetched the bucket Boggs had been using as a seat,
and were siphoning gasoline into it.  Julio had taken a hose off of the
Toyota’s engine to use as the siphon.  Emilie stepped beside me.

“Find anything good?” she asked
quietly.

“Definitely,” I answered quickly.

“Not me.  The stinking car
was empty.  I’ll help carry your load over.”

I nodded.  “Should we search
the last car first?” I asked.

“Sure.”

We proceeded together to the
farthest car from the wreck.  It was so mangled we weren’t sure of the
make.   The car was too contorted to even try to open the doors.

“Em, I’m not sure it’s even safe
to try to search it,” I voiced my concern.

“Let’s just circle it and do a
visual then,” she suggested.

We walked around the car, looking in
through the cracked and broken windows.  There was a briefcase on the
floor board, but it would be a stretch to reach.

“Oh, God,” I said.

Emilie looked up quickly,
alarmed.  “What is it?”

“A foot,” I said.  I wanted
to vomit.

“Let’s get the stuff back to the
van, Zoe.”

“Good idea.”

We walked back to the stash of new
supplies and I stuffed the small gun into the backpack.  It took us two
trips to take the bags and beer back to the step van.  By then the men had
fashioned a funnel out of a piece of flimsy cardboard they had found and rolled
up.  The five gallon bucket was nearly full of fuel.  They emptied it
into the gas tank, which took obvious effort.

Emilie went back inside the van to
check on Susan and Louisa and to update them.  I stayed outside, watching
the men try to not spill precious fuel.  After the bucket was empty, Julio
and Gus went to another of the vehicles to siphon more gas.  Boggs and I
talked about the plan to clear the road by pushing the cars off to the side, or
in some cases over the edge of the road.  I told him about the briefcase
we couldn’t safely reach and the amputated foot within the car.  He agreed
that leaving the briefcase sounded like the best plan.