In the Lone and Level Sands (16 page)

“I guess not.”

The man sat down a few feet away from
Zoe.

“I thought I’d rest here for the night,” Zoe
said. “In the morning I’ll head for the houses on the edge of the
woods.”

“They probably aren’t very safe,” the man
replied. “But they’re probably safer than the city. People there
probably had time to prepare. Those of us in the city, we got
blindsided.”

“I was on a bus. Everyone else… They
died.”

“Well, I figure I’ll get through the woods
and then just lie low. Head along the road until I’m out of the
city. I’ll leave early enough so I can see, but they can’t see
me.”

“Well, it’s nice to have someone to talk to
for right now,” Zoe said.

“Yeah,” the man replied.

For a while, things were silent. Zoe thought
about asking the man if he would be willing to sleep in shifts so
they could watch each other’s back, but decided against it. She
didn’t know him, couldn’t even see him, and wasn’t sure how safe
she was. It would be wiser to simply stay silent, not let him know
whether she was awake or asleep, or even where she was.

The two talked a little into the night, and
eventually, the man stopped answering. Zoe assumed he had fallen
asleep, and eventually, she did the same.

When she woke up, Zoe was covered in a fine
layer of dew. The man was gone, and left no sign that he had ever
been there. The sun was coming up, but it was still dim out. Zoe
got up, stretched (and realized that sleeping on the floor of the
woods had made her incredibly sore), and then headed out.

It wasn’t long before Zoe, accompanied only
by the sounds of frogs and birds, reached a small house. It was
white, but the paint was faded. There were no signs of any other
homes in sight, and there was also no road. Only a small dirt trail
led off into the woods and to what Zoe figured eventually became
the city. The isolation explained the chipped paint—there was
absolutely nobody around. No reason to keep up on the house’s
appearance with no one around to see it.

The lights didn’t appear to be on, and Zoe
waited for a while, listening. She heard only the sounds of the
woods and, farther off, those of the city. She tried to ignore the
latter; it was filled with car horns, the muffled firing of guns,
the occasional scream, and even more occasional explosion. But from
this house she heard no sign of life.

Zoe walked up the twisted wooden steps to
the old but sturdy-looking wooden door, and knocked.

21

On the Way to Lynnwood

Martha sat quietly during the commute to
Lynnwood. It was a short drive, but everyone was scared, so it
seemed like a lifetime. Martha cradled the old picture frame for a
while. She stared at it,
into
it, wishing like hell she
could go back to that time. Things were simpler then. Martha and
Charlie thought they would live and love forever. Sure, it was
naive to have such notions, and she knew it, but young people are
dreamers. God knows she was. As she aged, she began to realize life
wasn’t going to go on indefinitely. She had an expiration date, so
she found it best to live like there’s no tomorrow. Which, she
thought, just might be true now.

“You’ve been staring at that picture for a
while, Grandma,” Francine said. “Are you all right?”

“Hmm?” Martha said. “What, honey?”

“Are you okay, Grandma?”

“Yes, I’m all right. Once we get to the
stadium, I’ll need to get some rest.”

“We’ll be there soon.”

“Ah, what the hell is this?” Billy said.
They had just made it onto the exit ramp they needed to take to get
to Lynnwood. A few cars ahead, a pickup truck was clogging up the
works.

The sun had just begun to fall, the sky was
changing color. If they were lucky, the jam would clear up before
it went black. People continued to honk their horns, and some tried
to edge closer, though that did them no good.

The door of the pickup opened, and the
driver got out. He almost fell down upon exiting the truck, but
regained his balance and, just under the speed of a jog, went for
the nearest person.

“Fuck, that guy’s one of them,” Billy
said.

“He’s not the only one,” Beverly said. She
pointed beyond the exit ramp. More zombies were making their way to
the traffic jam, trying to get to the people in their cars. Alan,
who was just a car ahead of Martha and her family, opened fire. He
only had a clear shot at a few of them. He stuck his head out of
the window and made a spinning motion with his hand. Billy rolled
down his window, letting in the screams of people who were being
attacked.

“Can you back it up?” Alan asked.

“Too many cars behind me,” Billy said. “We
can’t just sit here forever.”

“We might have to for a second, unless you
guys want to walk the rest of the way.”

The driver of the car at the front of the
jam decided to bite the bullet. She hit the gas and rammed the
front end of the pickup, moving it out of the way, then sped off
into the city, leaving an opening for the others.

“Looks like we’re good to go,” Alan said. He
popped his head back inside the car and rolled the window up.

Slowly, the cars funneled through the gap
and continued their journey.

“Thank God,” Emily said. Billy rolled his
window up and followed Alan.

****

When they got to the stadium, they exited
their vehicles, grabbed their belongings, and high-tailed it to the
entrance. There were two long lines leading to two of the main
entrances. Police officers equipped with guns and armored vests
stood at either side of each door. They ushered people along,
stopping to dispatch the occasional zombie. The people in the lines
did their best not to panic.

The officers stopped Martha’s group before
they could enter.

“All right,” one of the officers said, “we
need to get you guys checked,
quickly
. I’m Francis, I’ll be
conducting body searches to make sure none of you have been
bitten.”

“None of us have been bitten,” Billy
said.

“For your safety and the safety of all the
people in there, this is something we have to check for ourselves,”
Francis said. “We can’t afford to make any mistakes. One of those
flesh-eaters gets in here, and we’re all screwed.” He pointed at
Beverly, who still sported some of Tylor’s blood on her white
shirt. “Ma’am, that isn’t your own blood, I hope.”

“I wasn’t bitten. It was my husband, he’s
dead. I’m not bitten.”

“We can’t afford to take chances,” the
officer on the other side of the entrance said. His badge read
“Vans”.

“What are you suggesting?” Martha asked.

“We need you to remove your shirt, ma’am,”
Francis said. Beverly’s face flushed.

“Now wait a minute,” Emily said. “You can’t
expect her to undress in front of all of these people. And don’t
you have any female officers?”

Vans shook his head. “She isn’t the only
one. All of you will have to lift your shirts and pant legs. We
apologize, but this is an emergency. We can’t set up one entrance
for males and one for females, that would take too long. It’s best
to just get it over with.”

Beverly lifted her shirt. Her face was red.
Vans quickly checked her sides, then motioned for her to put her
shirt down.

“You’re good to go,” he said. “I’m sorry for
your loss.” Beverly didn’t respond, but passed the officers and
went through the door. Alan and Billy approached next. “I’m going
to need to take your weapons. Just a standard safety
precaution.”

“It’s a safety precaution to take away the
one thing that can protect me and my family?” Billy asked.

“First of all,” Francis said, “
we
are
your protection, though that isn’t new.” He brought his face within
a few inches of Billy’s. “We can’t let civilians carry weapons in
there. Too many crack under these situations, so for the safety of
everyone, I am going to have to take your gun. You have my word
that we will do everything in our power to keep these creatures
out, and to keep everyone within these walls safe.”

“Here,” Billy said, and handed Francis his
gun. “I just hope your word holds up.”

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Vans said.
Alan handed his gun over. Both men raised their shirts and pant
legs and headed through the doors. Martha and the others followed
shortly, after being checked by the officers.

The group entered the crowded stadium
together. They passed by ticket checkpoints, concession stands, and
other shops that hadn’t even had the chance to open. Some of the
areas were littered with scaffolding, paint, and brushes.

They found one of the entrances to the field
itself, where the survivors were all being corralled. Dozens of
people were already getting accustomed to this new living
situation, one they were hoping was temporary. Thousands of cots
were lined across the field, and an area had been cleared for food
tables.

“Well,” Alan said, “let’s find us a
spot.”

****

Outside, a man in line was sweating badly.
As he slowly made it to the doors, he kept his left hand behind his
back.

Vans looked suspiciously at the trembling
man. “Have you been bitten?”

“N-no,” the man said. “No. None of them
touched m-me.” He looked down at the ground.

“He’s lying!” a woman said. “His wrist is
bleeding! He’s gonna turn into one of them!”

“Please, you’ve g-got to believe m-me! I
just cut m-myself! Let me in! Please!”

“Sir, I can’t let you in there,” Vans said.
“We can’t afford to let anyone suspicious through these doors.
Leave, or I’ll have to use force!”

“I’ve g-gotta get in… Away from those
things!”

He started toward the door. Francis pulled
out his gun. “Get back. Now!”

“N-no! I can’t stay here! I have n-nowhere
else to go!” He grabbed Vans, who was in the process of drawing his
gun, with the intention of pushing him out of the way and getting
inside. Vans dropped his gun, and before he could react, the man
changed. His grip tightened, he growled, and then took a chunk out
of Vans’s neck. Vans screamed, and Francis fired his gun, killing
the zombie. The crowd erupted in a panic; a few of the other
officers struggled to control them. Some sneaked into the
stadium.

Francis helped Vans stand. Vans kept a hand
pinned to his neck, and blood soaked between his fingers.

“Do it,” Vans said. “I don’t want to be one
of them. You promised you’d do it if I got bit.”

“Yeah,” Francis said. “Yeah… I did.” Francis
lifted his gun to his friend’s head. “God damn, I’m going to miss
you. It was a pleasure working with you, Vans.”

“It was a pleasure working with you, too,
Francis.”

The sound of Francis’s gun was swallowed by
the crowd.

It took the other officers about an hour to
calm everyone, re-form the lines, and check the hordes of
survivors. When twenty minutes passed without anyone showing up,
they decided it was time to close and barricade the doors.

Francis took one last look at the outside
world and wondered how many zombies had followed survivors here,
and how many more would be drawn by the lights and sounds of the
stadium. He sighed and shut the door.

****

Martha sat in a cot near the middle of the
field, eating a bologna sandwich. There were a few carrot sticks
sitting alone on her paper plate. Billy and Emily had their cots
pushed together not more than a few feet away from Martha’s. They
had already fallen asleep, and so had Jesse and his parents.
Despite all that had gone on that day, Martha still had some wind
left.

To her right, Francine was sitting and
reading one of Martha’s Nora Roberts novels. Beverly lay on her
back, staring up at the ceiling and silently crying. Martha was
awake long enough to witness Beverly cry herself to sleep. It made
Martha feel even worse, but she shed no tears.

Martha looked at Alan. He was writing in a
notebook. She wondered what he was writing, but didn’t ask; it
wasn’t any of her business. She finished her sandwich, ate the
carrot sticks, and then put the plate under her cot in a small
white plastic bag she’d been handed when they got their food.

Martha’s picture frame rested under her cot,
wrapped in a cloth she had brought from home. She retrieved it and
unsheathed the memories.

Francine looked up from her book and saw
Martha looking into the past. She put the book down, sat next to
Martha on her cot, looked at the picture, and then hugged her
grandmother.

22

Outside the Carnival

The screams from the carnival faded from
earshot as the Greenwald family rushed down the street.
Surprisingly, Max didn’t see many people out. The few he did see
were scrambling to find their cars. Max spotted the white minivan
his own family had arrived in, but Andrew showed no sign of slowing
down. He led the family right past their vehicle.

“Where are we going?” Max asked.

“It’s not safe to be driving around,” Andrew
said.

“How do you know?”

“Just listen to me!”

The family had nearly cleared the parking
lot when a zombie lunged out from between two cars, pinning Andrew
to the ground. Julie and Tim screamed.

Andrew held the zombie by the shoulders as
it snapped its teeth at his face. August took a step toward
them.

“Stay back!” Andrew said. He looked at Max.
“Get the pipe wrench out of the back of the car!”

Max turned and ran toward their vehicle,
which wasn’t far. In the distance he could see the faint glow of
the carnival lights. He turned from them as he reached the minivan.
The trunk wouldn’t open.

“It’s locked,” Max said.

“I’ll keep him off!” August said. She
charged the zombie on top of her father, and it fell to the ground.
Andrew reached into his pocket for his keys and pressed the button
to unlock the car.