Wasting Away (26 page)

Breathing
deeply, I tried to contain myself as Mary guided me out of the apartment.

“I’ve
seen so much and yet there are times when it all comes rushing in. No matter
how cold I try to be, how little the dead mean to me, I still think of them as
what they once were,” I stammered.

“I
don’t know how anyone could think differently,” she replied quietly. “She was
just a child. She didn’t ask for this.”

“Yeah,
none of them did,” I replied, leaning over the railing of the balcony. “And
neither did I.”

Mary
led the way down the stairs and went to the courtyard between the buildings. We
sat in the shade beneath a tree. I stared at my hands and tried to tuck them
deeper into my lap. I thought about what they had done and what they would
continue to do.

“There
was nothing left of that little girl,” she said, breaking the silence.
“Everything she had been died a long time ago.”

“It
doesn’t make it any easier.”

She
touched my leg. “It never will be,” she replied. “For as long as this
continues, you’ll look at them and try to remain strong, but you have a good
heart. It’s only natural for you to look at them they way they were. I wouldn’t
be sitting here with you now if you didn’t.”

I
glanced over at her.

“I
came with you because you’re
not
cold and heartless,” she continued.
“That was what made me think that you were the one to save me. In a way, you
saved me from myself. If it hadn’t been for you, your passion, your drive, I
would be starving to death right now or worse. Maybe that earthquake would have
brought my apartment down on top of me. Maybe I would have hung on and died
slowly beneath the rubble. There’s no telling.

From
here on out, you’re going to have to put your feelings aside. You need that
anger you felt back when this began. You have to stop looking at them as
anything but the abominations that they are.”

“That’s
easier said than done,” I replied. “It’s not any different than the way life
was before. I saw children brutally murdered by psychopaths and child
molesters. Every night on the news, it was the same thing; good people being
hurt by bad people. And now, I see the same thing, except the new terror is the
undead.”

“Before,
I had thought that there was something left inside of them, that there was some
glimmer of who they once were,” she said. “But now, after being out here with
them, I know that I was wrong. What I thought was a glimpse of humanity in
their eyes was nothing more than a ruse. It’s trickery. They retain only enough
of their former self to get the better of our emotions. It’s like the story of
the wolf in sheep’s clothing, once they’ve drawn you in, they’ll kill you
quickly and they won’t leave a scrap behind.”

“Yeah,
I know,” I said in agreement. “But I’ll never get used to what I have to do.
There will never be a time when I’m comfortable with it.”

“You
don’t have to,” she said. “All you have to do is keep on fighting. Keep
fighting for us and I’ll follow you to the ends of the Earth.”

We
sat there in silence for a while longer. Mary held my hand, running her finger
against my skin. It was the silence that I needed. Just being quiet and holding
her hand made the emotions numb. But every time the image of the dead girl came
to my mind, I thought of what she might have been. I saw her playing under the
very same tree where we were sitting. I saw a lingering smile on her face as
she ran in the grass without a care in the world.

Those
were the thoughts that haunted me. It wasn’t killing the corpse; it was imagining
its humanity.   

I
thought back to the old woman behind the gas station, I thought of my wife. I
considered how their eyes pleaded with me to end their suffering. I couldn’t
shake the feeling that there was some small remnant left, some tiny spark of
consciousness behind the mask of death.

No
matter what Mary said, she didn’t truly know what it was like being among the
dead. I had seen things that would scar my mind forever. I saw them tear at the
living with such frenzy, such bloodlust that it would always haunt my dreams.

What
kept replaying in my mind was that I survived when so many had fallen. In a
way, it was as if
they
had been saved and
I
was meant to suffer.

Maybe
this is Hell
, I
thought,
and I am meant to pay for my sins.

Chapter 24

A
dirt devil swirled through the driveway past the parking lot, scattering fallen
leaves along the asphalt. I caught the stench of the dead that played in the
air and closed my eyes to the sting.

The
wind kicked up again and caught in the trees as I pulled the generator along a
narrow path in front of the office and placed it next to the truck. The
electrical box next to the gate opened easily enough and I twisted the wires
around to fit them securely to the leads. After priming some fuel into the
carburetor, I pulled the cord on the side of the generator and it hummed to
life.

I
looked over to Mary, sitting in the passenger’s seat, staring out at the gnarl
of hands that threaded through the gate.

“Are
you ready?” I asked.

“No,”
she said.

I
switched over the power on the front panel and the gate began to slide open,
dragging every few feet as it pulled corpses along with it. The dead erupted in
screams and howls. Their moaning was excited and tense as they flooded through
the small gap between the gate and the block wall.

I
ran to the truck and jumped inside, slamming the door behind me.

With
my hands gripping the steering wheel, I revved the engine. I stared off at the
mob that leaked through the gate, their faces but a smear of angst and hate,
and I clenched my jaw tight.

The
tires barked out as power hit the rear end.

I
waited until there was a small gap in between the mass of bodies. My foot eased
off of the gas pedal and the truck jumped forward. The truck fishtailed and
jerked back into place when we hit the first row of bodies.

Corpses
were tossed into the air. Body parts exploded from the impact, arms and legs
tossed about by the momentum. A cadaver skidded up along the hood and glanced
off the side before it tumbled to the parking lot like a ragdoll.

From
the squealing tires, a slick yelp sounded as bodies were flattened in the wake
of the truck. Grizzly meat shredded up from the wheel wells and clung to the bed.
I swerved through the tangle of creatures, looking for open gaps in the crowd
where I could gain speed.

I
hit another group head on, sending bodies in every direction. Rot peeled along
the paint, leaving crimson smears in the dents they left behind. A corpse
moaned next to me, wedged against the window and the side mirror at an
unnatural angle before it broke free and fell beneath the truck. The bloody
print of its face remained on the glass and I hit the wipers to smear it away.

The
remnants of a child stared us down and suddenly became lost beneath the hood. A
swatch of blue fabric clung to the fender as a whirl of motion swallowed the
corpse. I slowed the truck and bounced over a legless cadaver that pulled
itself along the road.

All
that remained were stragglers as I swerved from one side of the road to the
other, trying to miss them to keep the damage to the truck at a minimum. I
clipped another body as I steered away from a parked car. Its head hit the
windshield with a hollow crack, sending out circular lines were its skull
concaved the glass.

From
the rearview mirror, broken, writhing bodies came into view, dragging
themselves along on torn and battered stumps.

Mary
screamed, “Look out!”

Another
mob of creatures closed in on the pickup, a tight knot of deformed faces and
swaying limbs. I tried to swerve, but it was too late, I hit the crowd head on.
There came a steady drumming from the floor pan as limbs shattered along the
undercarriage and tossed out fleshly debris in our wake.

By
the time we made the next corner, the truck was knocking badly. A cloud of
smoke coughed up from the hood and the engine stuttered and died.

“Shit,
get out!” I yelled, reaching between the seats, feeling for my pack.

I
snagged my pack by the strap and pulled it free. I tried to open the door, but
it wouldn’t budge. I threw my arm against it as Mary jumped out of the
passenger’s side.

“Damn
it,” I muttered as I scooted to the other side of the truck.

A
corpse slapped against the driver’s door and dragged its teeth along the
window.

Out
on the pavement, I grabbed Mary’s arm and we began to run. The dead were far
enough behind, but there were more bodies converging from all around. I had
seen them do this so many times before. They seep from the shadows, seemingly
coming out of the cracks in the asphalt. They were surrounding us as I heard
Mary cry out. A child had come up from behind and was holding Mary’s arm as it
barred its teeth. Inches away from breaking skin, I pulled the pistol from my
side and fired a shot, point blank at the creature’s forehead. It flew backwards
and slapped the road with the back of its mangled head. The sound was of ripe
fruit hitting a brick wall.

I
turned as another corpse neared. A sullen, eyeless face greeted me as its mouth
went wide. I dodged the ghoul as it came for my neck. Stepping behind it as it
searched the air with shredded hands; I placed the pistol at the back of its
head and managed a clean shot that sent it to its knees before it fell into a
heap at my feet.

Mary
struggled with a cadaver and I grabbed it by the hair and threw it to the
ground.

“Run!”
I shouted as I placed my foot on the back of its neck and pressed down with all
my weight. There came a shudder from the body as its neck broke. One of its
arms flailed wildly at its side before falling slack.

We
wound through a parking garage and over the side of a retaining wall at the
other end. I could hear Mary breathing heavily as we scaled over the side and
down a small hillside that divided the garage from another property. Bodies
poured over the edge behind us and toppled down the hill as we hit the chain
link fence to a small distribution center. Stacks of pallets made a maze
through the yard and we took to the outer fence to keep our bearings.

The
dead gnashed at the links, threaded their fingers through the gaps and rocked
the fence back and forth. We fled to the north end of the yard and found a
large flatbed truck parked in a small loading area.

“Get
in,” I said.

I
pulled myself up into the truck while Mary went around to the passenger’s side.

“We’re
in luck,” I said excitedly as I pulled the ignition keys from the visor.

“Can
you drive this thing?” she asked.

“I
can sure as hell try,” I answered, clicking over the ignition. The diesel truck
hummed to life and smoke bellowed out of the stacks as I shifted into gear.
“Keep your fingers crossed,” I said offhandedly as I released the clutch.

The
truck lumbered forward and I placed the bumper against the gate. The fence
creaked as I tore through, and the truck plowed out onto the road, dragging a
length of gate behind. The truck stuttered as I shifted into the next gear and
gained a little speed as I nursed the throttle.

Through
the rearview mirror, the dead scattered out from the intersection we had
bypassed on our way into the distribution center, becoming small and harmless
as we sped away.

“It
worked,” Mary breathed.

I
let out a nervous laugh and nodded my head.

For
the most part, the road ahead was clear. A few abandoned cars were parked along
the sides, but there was ample room to get through.

“We
left everything behind,” Mary said as she looked over her shoulder out the rear
window.

“We’ll
be fine,” I told her. “We can stop somewhere once we get far enough away from
the city.”

I
took an old frontage road that ran the length of the freeway and drove north
onto the next off ramp, heading the wrong way to opposing traffic. The other
side was jammed with cars, but the southbound side was totally clear.

The
traffic jam on the other side was continuous. Car doors hung open, exposing
weathered interiors. Luggage was strewn across the highway, clothes sticking
out like parched tongues against the hot asphalt. Children’s toys lay scattered
and abandoned, forgotten when the dead came to pick the road clean.

Beside
an old Chevy, a body was being eaten by crows. The birds picked between scraps
of clothing that whipped in the wind - a castaway’s funeral in the hot desert
sun.

Mary
diverted her eyes from the scene and tightened her face as if she were about to
cry.