The Living Dead Series (Book 3): Dead Coast (17 page)

“Really? You moved here for the weather? That’s a long way to go for a little sunshine,” David remarked.

“Ah, but you don’t know how the damp and cold freeze the heart out of a man. When the plane left Heathrow it was 8 degrees,” he lamented.

“That’s not that bad. Celsius, right? That’s 43 Fahrenheit,” Brian calculated quickly.

“Sure it is, but that was in July,” Cam said dolorously, shaking his head

“So Cam gets the trophy for greatest distance traveled to experience the apocalypse, American style. Who traveled the least?” asked Virginia.

Mei raised her hand. “Probably me. I’m about 45 minutes up the coast.”

“No, I was closer.” Moshe’s voice was solemn. “My sister and I have savings accounts in this bank. We used to come here with my mom.”

His voice wavered a little as he continued, “We came here and withdrew a bunch of cash once my mom realized what was happening. Then she opened up a safe-deposit box and stuffed little gold and silver ingots in her purse and in our backpacks. I’d never seen those before but they were heavy! I don’t think I really believed what we were hearing but when mom did that, I knew something was up. Mom usually uses her debit card for everything.”

They all sat quietly while the words spilled out of Moshe in a torrent. They had each seen this before, experienced it themselves. This need to recount, to explain, to try to make some sense out of what had happened to them.

“I’m not even sure when it all started. I remember my mom turning the television off when we came in the living room a couple of times and not listening to the radio in the car on the way to school. We were only allowed on the internet if we had permission but I got texts from my friends telling me that some kind of flu was killing a lot of people and making other people crazy, but it was on the other side of the country. We thought it was creepy but it was too far away to get scared about. Mom just said to avoid people who looked sick or odd in any way.

Pretty soon we started seeing
Closed
signs on stores and stuff. Empty Metro buses were parked alongside the roads. Even the homeless were pushing their carts alongside the roads and heading north.

We live,
lived
, in the Palisades. It’s north of here and we had our own swimming pool and tennis courts. I took lessons but I
hate
tennis. I’m better at archery, those lessons were fun. We had gates and a security guard, too. The guard didn’t have a gun. I know because I asked to see it once when I was little. He laughed and said the gates would keep the bad guys out.

Hardly anyone was in school that last day. Mom came and picked us up before lunch. I remember there was barely room in the car for us because of all the groceries and bottled water. Everyone we saw looked scared. We heard gunshots on the way home and saw some people lying on the ground. My sister started crying and begged her to stop but Mom just kept driving. We hit something then rolled over what felt like a huge speed bump. Mom cried but she still kept going.

When we got home the gates were open and there was no guard in the little booth. Someone left their car parked in the street and we drove on the grass to get around it. Front doors and garage doors on houses along the street stood open, making them look like someone had broken in. Our house looked the same as it always did and we pulled into the garage and lowered the door. I looked at the front of the car and I’m pretty sure there was blood on the grill and three teeth and some hair stuck in the tire treads. Then Mom turned that little bar that locked the garage doors manually and we went inside.

Sara, that’s my sister, went to her bedroom and came back with her blanket, that disgusting one she’s had ever since she was a baby. She turned the television to the Disney channel first thing but they weren’t showing anything, just a blue screen. She started yelling like she always does and went to find Mom.

I channeled up and down but most other stations weren’t broadcasting either. KSEE was showing the interstates all around the city. The only people moving were the ones on motorcycles or bikes and even they had to stop and walk them around blockages or across the median to keep going. Most of them wore backpacks and were pulling babies in little wagons hooked up to the bikes.

On another channel they were showing the crowds around the hospitals. Hundreds of people were there, waiting in line or sitting on the hoods of their cars in the parking lot. Some bodies were on the pavement, not moving, but you couldn’t tell if they were dead or alive. The news guy kept saying everyone should stay home and not go to the hospitals.

In California we’re always getting ready for an emergency but it’s usually earthquakes, flash floods or fires. We did the usual stuff: filled all the tubs with water, went through our bug-out backpacks, made sure our clothes and good boots were by our beds. This time though, Mom unlocked the chest in her closet and got out three guns and put them on the bed. One was a shotgun and she called one a .22 and the handgun was a Beretta. I didn’t even know we had them. Mom said to be sure Sara didn’t go near them.

My dad is a doctor so we barely saw him the past few days but that was nothing new. We hardly ever saw him during the school year. Every August, before school starts, we go to Mexico on vacation and Dad plays golf in the morning then we all swim and snorkel in the afternoon. That’s really the only time we see him.

Mom worked from home most of the time. That last day she went into her office and partially shut the door and called Dad. So of course we sat outside in the hall and listened.

Dad said something then Mom said, “Everything’s ready; I loaded the guns. We can come down to the hospital and pick you up there.”

Dad shouted so loud we heard him in the hallway, “The roads are blocked. Have you seen the crowds around the hospital? Don’t come anywhere near here! We’re getting ready to evacuate the uninfected patients up to the top ward. The whole place is infested. Our only shot now is evacuating from the helipad but we’ll be lucky if that happens.”

Mom said, “Don’t shout at me, Benjamin. (I’d never heard her call him Benjamin before. It was usually just ‘Ben’). We’ll go on foot if we have to-”

Dad yelled something else but I stopped listening because somebody was knocking on the garage doors. More than just knocking, it sounded like someone was trying to knock the house down. I went down to look out the kitchen window but I couldn’t see anything. Sara came halfway down the stairs and sat there, holding her blanket and with her thumb in her mouth like when she was a baby.

Mom came out of the bedroom, carrying one of the guns. I think she’d been crying. She motioned for us to come upstairs and we followed her to the media room that looks out over the garage.

Mrs. Sutton from next door stood in our driveway hitting the garage door with her fist. She didn’t look angry, she just had looked, I guess, dead. Her eyes were white and her face kind of gray. She was wearing her bathrobe and still had one slipper on. All the skin was gone from her legs and you could see the bones.

Sara screamed and Mom put her hand over her mouth and pulled her out of the room. Mrs. Sutton stopped hitting the door and looked up, turning her head jerkily like a bird, as if she were listening. Then she began clawing and pounding on the door, harder than before.

We closed all the blinds and huddled in the living room, watching more news and trying to ignore the hammering on the garage door. The television showed the Tower in London completely surrounded by crowds of infected spilling out into the Thames. They broke through the paling fence and were starting to stack up against the Tower walls. You could see the Tower Bridge and we watched an airplane crash into it and hit the water. The news lady said the whole island of Great Britain was under voluntary quarantine. Ireland, too.

They said they shut down the Chunnel but it didn’t make any difference. The virus was already on the European mainland. Iceland was supposed to be a clean-zone and they had shore patrols out and anti-aircraft guns set up, shooting planes out of the sky if they flew too low.

Mom kept trying to call my dad but the phone circuits were overloaded. She couldn’t get through even to 9-1-1. Sara was on the sofa with her thumb in her mouth and still holding that blanket. It was like she was two again. Mom was in the kitchen, making sandwiches when we heard a gun fire, right outside our house.

The pounding on the garage stopped. Then somebody rang the doorbell.

It was Mr. Becker from down the street. He was trying to look in through the side windows. He didn’t look crazy, just worried, so I opened the door.

Mom kind of lost it when she heard the door open and she came running out from the kitchen holding a gun. Mr. Becker put his hands up even though he had a big rifle over one shoulder, and stood there trying to talk to her. She finally believed him when he said he wasn’t infected and just wanted to be sure we were okay. He said that he was sorry but he had “put Mrs. Sutton down” and didn’t have time to dispose of the body.

They were leaving. He said he and Mrs. Becker were taking their kids and going to a cabin in Montana.  A plane was supposed to be waiting for them at the airfield. He wanted to know if we wanted to go with them. He said things were bad and it wasn’t going to get any better. I looked out and saw Justin and Jason looking out the windows of their SUV.

Mom asked how he knew that and that was the first time I heard of “Operation Urban Shield.” Mr. Becker worked for a defense contractor on “logistics and deployment of resources.” He said it was all top secret but that didn’t matter anymore. The city and everyone in it was going to be sealed off. Even now it was risky to leave but a small plane was our best chance to get out.

Mom said we couldn’t leave without Dad and asked if they could wait. He said they couldn’t. Mom thanked him and said goodbye. I don’t know if they made it out or not. The news that night said a number of light aircraft were shot down by “persons unknown.”

That night we all slept in the same room. Mom sat by the window with the shotgun. I don’t think she slept much. I kept waking up and each time she was by the window, looking down.

I think it was the next day I realized we were never going to see my dad again. It was right after that earthquake off the coast, the big one. We didn’t really feel it but we saw pictures of the tsunami on the news. Only the one television station was still broadcasting and they started showing pictures of downtown too. It was on fire. You could see people moving around in the smoke. They were walking; even the ones on fire were just kind of shuffling along. They were zombies! How obvious is that? The news kept calling them victims but- good grief! How stupid do you have to be not to know they were zombies? I never told Mom this but I think I saw Dad in that crowd.

After that the news lady started crying. She just sat there and cried on camera. Finally someone pointed the camera at the wall but you could still hear her crying.

Some of my mom’s friends told her that the military was sending in ships to the wharf to take survivors to a secure facility. I know a lot of them packed up and went down there but we never got any more information about it.

Mrs. Sutton’s body was still in our driveway and Mom kept saying she had to do something about it, for health reasons. It had swollen up like a balloon and there was a smell- a pretty bad smell. Mom paced the house, trying to call Dad, then my grandparents, then checking to see if anyone was outside in the street. Sometimes we heard car alarms and saw smoke in the distance but everything was mostly pretty normal except for the dead body in the driveway. A few more of our neighbors left, cars stuffed full of sleeping bags and boxes, driving past our house and slowing down to look at the driveway, then speeding up.

By the third day the electricity was going off and on. Mom cooked all the frozen food and put it in the basement where it was cooler. She kept making us eat even though we weren’t really hungry. She said if we didn’t eat it, it would all be wasted. We were sitting at the kitchen table, eating these huge steaks when weird moans drifted in through the window. Mom looked out then closed it very quietly. We all stood there looking down at the street.

There were five of them, two men, one woman, and two kids. They wandered along the street, looking really dazed. Every now and then they bumped into each other and went staggering off in a different direction for a while then drifted back to the group. The woman was missing an arm but they weren’t all that scary except for their eyes. They were that dead-looking white, like Mrs. Sutton’s.

A cat darted across the road in front of them, hissing as it scrambled up and over our gate leading to the back yard. They turned and staggered over toward our house. The woman tripped over the body in the driveway and couldn’t get back up. The others ignored her and began to bang on the gate.

They stayed there all day. Another one came and joined them. Mom was afraid they would draw even more so she got the shotgun and went outside. She told us not to watch but we did.

The shots exploded their heads and that black mush went everywhere. Soon they were all down and not moving anymore. We went out and the three of us dragged them over to Mrs. Sutton’s back yard and dumped them in the swimming pool. Mrs. Sutton came apart and we had to drag her in pieces. That part was really bad and Mom couldn’t stop crying. We were fast and I think pretty quiet but I guess the sound of the shots attracted attention.