Sanctuary (14 page)

“Sounds great! I’m hungry.”

“It’s just a little bit farther, so we’ll find something to eat soon.” She hoped
.

Even limping had become har
d
for Brad. The blood crawled down his leg like a hideous red snake. The wound he’d gotten when he fell had become much worse than he’d first assessed. When the speed limit signs changed, he knew that it wouldn’t be long before he’d reach Hilton Village. The tree-lined canopy on both sides of the streets was another sign that he was fast approaching home.

Hunger pains began to bug him again, and he couldn’t remember when he’d last eaten.

A rumbling increased on the other side of the hill, and Brad froze where he stood. His joints locked in place. The rumble didn’t quite sound like those lion things, but what else could it be? His mouth felt unnaturally dry, and his muscles went rigid. A diesel bus rumbled over the hill at about thirty miles an hour, and his joints unlocked in relief. He was saved.

He waved his hands in the air and almost stepped in front of the vehicle. “Hey!”

The white bus had blue letters on the brow and the side declaring it “Church Bus.” It came to a squealing halt just in front of him, and the doors flew open. A giant of a man with glasses, a wide smile, and grey-blond stubble of hair greeted him. “Glad to see you, sir. My name is Pastor Billy Crawford. Are you in need of any help?”

Brad couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his own maw. “You are a sight for sore eyes, and I sure am.” Without further words, he grabbed hold of the handrail and limped his way onto the bus.

Hugh

Hugh followed the three infecte
d
people from a good distance. They stumbled, as they milled about aimlessly, even tripping over each other on occasion. Their group lacked any kind of cohesion or cooperation, and if one of them bumped into the other, they each tried to grab for limbs and bite each other.

This had been his first opportunity to inspect the infected at close range. He dodged from car to car, ducking, and kept a good twenty yards back. One made a sudden turn in his direction, and Hugh gasped. He clenched his teeth as he watched the infected woman stumble a few steps toward him. Her face had a purple hue, like a plum, and her eyes were swollen shut. Portions of skin over her brow were ripped and hanging so that her cheekbones and skull over her forehead were exposed. At least, he was fairly certain it was a woman. The tattered remains of her hair were in matted tendrils of gapped dreadlocks. Blood mixed with the blonde, creating a brownish black base from which the gold sprouted. Red foam dripped from the corners of her chapped lips. Her raw elbows poked from the holes worn into her cardigan, and the hem of her dress hung at a torn angle, exposing knees, like raw hamburger spread with portions of bone poking through.

How many days had she been like this? If she’d been bitten when the aliens first attacked, she’d be a fourth-day survivor. She stumbled to her face on the black top. Hugh had to restrain himself from rushing over to help her to her feet. For a moment she struggled to pull herself up again. Then she gave up and remained on the ground. Her cries were muffled by portions of her face hanging over her lips.

Hugh thought he might vomit or maybe cry uncontrollably. He desperately wanted to help the woman, but what could he do? According to all the reports that he’d seen, the infected would bite the hand that attempted to help. He slowly pulled himself away from the car he hid behind as another of the infected dropped to the ground
. It must be true. They were dying
.

Tearing his eyes away from them proved difficult, and he shoved his hands in his sweatpants’ pockets. He turned away, but kept an ear in their direction in case the third ended up being in better condition than the other two. As he increased his distance from the threesome, the wailing faded and soon disappeared.

A shiver ran up his spine. Because he’d left the apartment in his sweatpants and t-shirt, he was grossly underdressed for the weather. He had no idea what time of day it was. As he stared up at the cloudy sky, he tried to judge where the sun was by the brighter spot shining through the clouds. Then, he looked around and realized he wasn’t exactly sure which direction was west, but overall, he’d guess that maybe it was three-ish—at least that’s what it felt like to him.

In this forced autumn, only evergreens still presented green foliage. The stout oaks and maples now stretched bare branches toward the sky, like upraised hands asking why. He judged the entire panorama, looking for the woman and her kid, but didn’t see a single sign of movement. Maybe they hadn’t stopped in their curiosity to study the infected and headed straight for the church. Picking up a brisk pace, Hugh started in that direction.

The streets of Warwick Boulevard were clear of the puzzle of cars he’d mazed through on Mercury Boulevard. It was nearly a straight shot, and he could see the white steeple of the church ahead through the naked trees. Part of him wanted to pick up a jog— he felt almost free. He’d not been out of doors for three days, and his imprisonment had finally come to a close. He was cold anyway and decided that maybe the jog would get his blood flowing and heat himself up. So, he picked up a steady run.

Jennie

Jennie pressed her cheek agains
t
the scuffed white tiles that smelled of shoes and mud. She could feel grains of sand as dirt stuck to her face, but she needed to reach under the store shelving unit to get the last can. Her fingers touched the lip of the dented can and caused it to roll away. She took a deep breath and barely stopped the curse that surfaced. She rose to her knees.

“Did you get it?” Mickey’s question echoed through the cold, empty grocery store.

Jennie almost made a smart remark:
Does it look like I got it?
But when she looked into her five-year-old brother’s shadowed face, as he hugged the other three cans to his chest, she couldn’t consider it.

“I’ve got to go around to the other side to get it. Stay here.”

She stood up and brushed off the front of her jacket and jeans. It disheartened her to look at the empty shelves, but she still felt relief in finding those last four cans under the shelving unit. Following her lead, Mickey stood.

“I’m scared. Can’t I come with you?” He shivered inside the drafty store. The windows at the front of the building added almost nothing in the way of a windbreak now that many were empty panes of broken glass strewn on the floor.

“Of course you can, Sam. I just thought you’d be happier here, dear.”

Mickey giggled. Jennie used his love of Dr. Seuss-type rhymes to chase away his fears.

She walked to the other side of the high shelf unit, still on the look-out for other edible possibilities. Her brother’s tennis shoes squeaked on the floor behind her.

When she got to about the middle of the shelving unit, Jennie knelt down again. She shifted herself the other way and reached back under the shelf with her left hand. The gravel and dirt on the icy floor brushed her cheek like sandpaper when a smile came to her lips. Her fingers easily wrapped around the prize. She pulled it through the dust bunnies and cobwebs, feeling an odd a sense of triumph.

“What is it? I hope it’s ravioli!” Mickey almost squealed.

Jennie used the sleeve of her jacket to wipe away the grime covering the label. Her heart sank. “Hominy.”

“I dunno what that is.” Mickey’s face pinched up, as he added, “But you must not like it very much.”

From her brother, she took the three cans of succotash and breathed a deep sigh. “Well, at least it’s something different, right? God answered our prayer. We found something other than succotash.”

She felt the vibration, and her heart froze in her chest. Jennie swallowed hard, her eyes growing wider. Her heart resumed pounding in her ears, so that she could hear almost nothing else. The white noise of the vibration the aliens made was rising in crescendo. They were just entering the parking lot from the west.

The Shisa were coming, and Jennie knew she needed to run. Hiding was no good – they would sniff them out without even trying. Somehow her joints felt stuck in place.

“What’s that noise?” Her little brother’s voice unlocked her joints, and she grabbed his small cold hand.

“Come on. Let’s go,” she whispered, and they started to run in a crouched position through the broken glass door and past the abandoned cars in the grocery store parking lot. The wind blew from behind, and she sighed a thanks that they would be downwind.

As they passed the last of the cars in the lot, she felt the need for speed.
Maybe I should pick Mickey up. But if I do, I might drop the armload of cans.

“Run faster,” Jennie whispered to him, knowing better than to ask. The growling made by the aliens remained far enough away that she doubted they had a visual yet.

“I caaaaannn’t,” Mickey whined.

Jennie winced. There was no way the Shisa didn’t hear his high pitch. She wanted to kick herself for rushing him. Even though she didn’t look, she knew he was on the verge of tears.

She took a risk and stopped. She unzipped the top of Mickey’s jacket and stuffed the cans of food into the front.

“Hold on to these tight, okay?”

His nose was red from the cold. Snot ran over his upper lip, and tears glistened on his cheeks. His nylon jacket shooshed as Jennie picked him up and held him tightly to her chest. The cans poked her. She ran faster. The most direct route to the church was through Huntington Park, so she slipped inside the gate and followed the tall, chain link fence.

The tops of her thighs burned with every step, but she knew she couldn’t slow down. She had to make it, or they’d die. She didn’t want to end up like her father. She used to love her father more than anyone in the whole world, but now she hoped she’d never see him again.

They drew closer to the “big ditch,” and the pungent odor of decay struck Jennie. Looking straight ahead, she could see the white church on the other side. Her vision dropped down the concrete slope created by the ditch, and she took a ragged breath, praying, “Oh Jesus, please help us.”

The angled concrete wall tilted toward the middle of the drainage area at an angle about as steep as the roof of her house and almost as far to the bottom. The water below should have just been rainwater, but it collected the putrid remains of run-off from the town’s streets and smelled awful. She could see a lump half covered with rainwater, and it arrested her.
Oh please, don’t let that be a dead body.

A howl came from behind. Jennie knew she shouldn’t look, but she couldn’t help it. Turning, she saw that the howl came from four Shisa loping tirelessly toward her, their gaze fixed on Jennie.

She weighed her options. To her right stood the tall chain-link fence that kept people out of the park from the street. To her left, the drainage area didn’t shallow for about a quarter mile. She had no choice but to go straight down.

She feared the angle might be too steep to try and run, especially with Mickey in her arms. She couldn’t afford a fall. Normally, Jennie would have gone the quarter mile to the shallows and crossed, but they’d never make it before the aliens came.

“Can I go down the slide?” Mickey asked.

“What?”

“The slide.” Mickey pointed at the steep concrete wall.

It struck her like a slap. “Sure, Mickey, we’ll go down the slide together.”

Jennie sat on the grass at the edge of the concrete and let herself down slowly, using her feet as brakes. She slid on the smooth, orange, river rocks a little at a time, afraid to go too fast, but wanting to get away from the edge before the Shisa made it there.

They had only reached the bottom when the aliens came to the top edge. The Shisa watched them. Thirty feet below, Jennie could see the wildness in the eyes of the leader. Blood ran from the top of its head, and one of its ears was missing. It seemed that perhaps the military was fighting back and causing some return damage on the invading threat.

The aliens took no time choosing what they would do. Immediately, they turned left. Jennie knew she didn’t have much time. They needed to climb fast before the aliens made it around to the other side.

Hunger forced them to stop at the grocery store on the way. Now, they were stuck at the bottom of an open drain. Jennie struggled to her feet, still holding Mickey. She trudged through ankle-deep muck, Mickey's nails digging into her back.