Dead Soil: A Zombie Series (14 page)

“It’s settled, then,” Liam said. “No one goes out alone, not for anything.”

With rules finally in place, everyone sipped at their wine with wandering eyes, avoiding eachother like the plague. Liam was the only one who dared to glance into every single face. They were supposed to pull together in order to survive. Instead, they were sitting on the floor, arguing with each other over petty differences.

“Why don’t we try to get to know one another a little better?” he broke the silence in hopes of breaking the tension as well. “What did everyone do before…before all this?”

They eyed each other and waited to see who would jump in first. The silence was unbearable.

“I owned the comic book store downtown,” Zack said. He couldn’t watch his friend be ignored like he was. He’d seen how sensitive Liam could be.

“Corporate lawyer,” Christine said, annoyed, still leaning far back and clutching at her wine glass.

“Stay-at-home mom, but before that Ralph and I were in the Navy,” Sally said.

“Really?” Christine perked up. “What did you do in the Navy?”

“We were electricians.”

Everyone’s eyes widened as they nodded their heads, sighing a collective “ahh”.

“Won’t do us much good, here, though,” she added at the sight of their eager expressions. “We can’t keep it going. Once it’s gone, it’s out of our hands.”

The silence weighed on them again. How long did they have left in the light until the power went out and enclosed them in eternal darkness?

Liam looked around and took a breath. “I was a scientist.”

This brought about a bigger, more intense reaction than electrician had. They all stared at Liam, some with their mouths hanging halfway open.

“You’re a
scientist
?” Sally asked, her voice high-pitched and excited. “Can’t you fix this then?”

Liam couldn’t stop the small laughter that escaped his lips. It tapered off when he saw the hurt look in Sally’s almond eyes. “No, sorry, I’m a plant geneticist. The people to figure this out would be biologists, microbiologist.”

Her entire body slumped downward as her eyes fell to gaze at the empty paper plate on the floor in front of her.

“What about you Jerry?” Ralph asked coolly.

Jerry took his time chewing the last piece of broccoli in his mouth and swallowed before answering. “Retired.”

Ralph’s eyebrows pulled together as he stared and waited for the rest. Jerry pounded a fist on his chest until a low, rumbling belch rose from within.

Sally and Christine wrinkled their noses at each other in mutual disgust.

“Retired from what?”

“Crane operator. Steel mill,” he answered in as little words as possible.

“All right then, see? I have a feeling we’re all going to be great friends,” Liam said with a hopeful smile.

When there was nothing left to say, the Shermans stood up first. Sally thanked everyone for dinner and Christine for having them over.

“Yeah, see ya tomorrow,” Jerry said to the couple on the way out the door.

“Thank you,” Luke said. It was the first thing he uttered since the discussion began.

Christine looked at him like she’d forgotten he was there altogether.

“Bye,” he added and walked out briskly.

Zack closed the door and sat back down on the couch beside Christine. “Sorry things got a little heated,” he said, giving her a pat on the knee. “No hard feelings?”

She cocked her head and glared at him.

He removed his hand carefully.

A slow smile spread across her face. “Sure. We’re fine.”

“Something on your mind, mate?” Liam asked as he put the dirty glasses in the sink to be washed.

“I was just thinking…” Zack started to say, but trailed off.

Christine and Liam both waited for him to continue as the air hung with his words.

“I just wonder…do you think Anita made it? Do you think she’s…alive?” He winced, the words hurt him as he spoke them.

“Oh, Zack,” Christine said and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You barely knew her. She came into the comic book store a few times and what? Only talked to you once?”

“I have to know what happened to her,” he said as he stared at his lap and wrung his hands together. “I think I’m going to try to find her.”

Liam walked to the couch and stood over him. “That’s not a good idea. We need you here.”

“I won’t leave for like days at a time or anything,” he said looking up at his friend. “Just search some places around town during the day after we check the building out. See if I can find her.”

Liam rubbed a hand over his face. He shook his head and ran the same hand back over his messy ginger hair. “I’m not sure…”

Zack stood. He was a few inches shorter than Liam and had to look up to stare him directly in the eyes. “I wasn’t really asking for your permission.”

Liam saw the desperation on his friend’s face. It was worse than the one day a month when Zack used to pay the bills at the comic book store. “All right,” Liam breathed out. “I’ll help you find her.”

VII.

Gale Lewis threw her head back and groaned into the white hot rays of the sun. “How much longer are we just going to wander around aimlessly? My ankles are swollen and we’ve been down this road at least three times now.”

They trudged along the scenic route of highway twelve. Tight knit trees lined both sides, but did little in the ways of providing shade since the sun was high in the middle of the sky. Not a single cloud could be seen, leaving no hope for a brief release from the smoldering sunlight. Up ahead the scenery blurred like a mirage from the heat rising off the pavement.

“How ‘bout you stop worryin’ and shut up?” Lonnie barked without turning to look over his shoulder. He was sick of all the complaining—first Carolyn and her scratched ankle, Mitch the bitch and his incessant worrying about Carolyn’s scratched ankle and now Gale and, low and behold, her ankles…When would it end? He should have let those things eat the old woman the night he found her.

Gretchen, the newcomer, glared at the back of Lonnie’s wide head wrapped in his wet t-shirt. Sweat dripped down his red neck and white wife-beater tank top. “She’s right,” she called out with solidity. “We can’t keep exhausting ourselves. We need somewhere to go or else what’s the point?” She’d been with the group for a few days and had seen Lonnie order them around and march them through the woods and over the highway without the smallest hint of some sort of plan.

              Lonnie stopped and turned on his heels. He marched back to Gretchen, his piercing blue eyes locked on her. Rowan and his long legs made it to her first, but Lonnie waved him off.

His faced softened as he leaned his head to one side and smiled sweetly. “You are absolutely right.” He reached out to brush a strand of her shoulder-length blonde hair behind one of her ears. God, was she beautiful.

“I thought you said staying in the woods was our best shot?” Rowan turned to him. “The uneven ground slows them down and we can always hear them coming. You said being close to people would get us killed. You said…”

No one was listening to Rowan, especially Lonnie, who was lost in Gretchen’s sapphire eyes, her pouty blushed lips, her colorful, tender arms that he wished would wrap around his waist and pull him in close to her.

Gretchen’s breath caught in her chest. The young, stocky man stood so close that she could smell the dried, stale sweat that soaked his clothes and hair. She kept her face stern and unflinching, but inside she wanted to scream. Nothing but unnerving concentration kept her eyes from darting away from his, wanting to stand her ground. “We should gather supplies and find a place to rest, at least for a couple of days.”

She caught a glimpse of Lee from the corner of her eyes standing with his arms crossed a ways behind Lonnie’s shoulder. Why didn’t he say something? Anything? He was just standing there like a useless statue. Was there no one in the group who would stand up to the asshole in front of her? She would love nothing more than to see the hulking man pick Lonnie up with one hand and drop him to the pavement like a ragdoll.

Lonnie blinked slowly as he continued to grin. All at once, he snapped out of whatever trance he was in and looked around at his people. “The new girl here,”

“Gretchen.”

“Gretchen,” he repeated with an echo. “Thinks we should look for supplies and shelter.” There was a long pause as he spun in a circle to see everyone individually.

No one responded as they waited for Lonnie to get to the point without all the dramatics of a drill sergeant.

“Well, I think she’s right. We’re tired, hungry, and damn thirsty. At least I am.”

Carolyn and Rowan nodded their heads, willing to agree with anything Lonnie said.

Gale rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that day, but Lonnie didn’t notice, just like all the other times.

Lee was silent and still, an onlooker rather than a participant in the going ons of the ragtag group.

Mitchell’s eyes darted around nervously.

              “Let’s head to the lake and then find a store to raid,” Lonnie ordered.

Gale’s round body perked up. “That idea’s shit.”

Lonnie threw his arms up and looked at the sky with an exaggerated sigh. “Here we go again. Big Bertha, do you have to argue with me every step of the fucking way?”

              “Only when you’re wrong.”

              He collected himself from his borderline fit and puffed out his chest to stroll over to her. “What did you say?” He was inches from her face.

              Gale’s voice didn’t waiver as she spoke. She stood as tall as any other five foot four woman with aching feet could have. “I said it’s a dumb idea. There are houses all up and down that lake. You think those people aren’t protecting their water? Their
fresh
water? Think they let just any wannabe G.I. Joe kid come waltzing up and take as much as they want?”

              “She
does
have a valid point, there,” Mitchell agreed.

“Hey!” Rowan barked with his pistol raised. “Lonnie thinks we should go to the lake so that’s where we’re going!”

              “Ya’ll don’t like it you can find another bunch of assholes to go die with, because I don’t plan on dying of thirst when there’s a fucking giant-ass lake not even a mile away and dead people walking around trying to eat us!”

              “You might want to keep your voice down, then,” Mitchell rambled quickly.

“Man, you need to learn when to keep your fucking mouth shut!”

              “I think that’s exactly what he was just telling
you
,” Gretchen chimed in. She stood with one foot planted firmly on the pavement of the winding highway as the other one jutted out in front of her, her hip popped as her hand rested on it.

              Lonnie glared, but didn’t walk her way again. He looked down at the ground and shook his head with his hands on his hips. His rifle was slung over his back. “You know, you’re absolutely right again, Miss Gretchen. I’ll try to…
control
…the volume of my voice.” The corners of his light blue eyes crinkled from his joker grin.

It was unnerving. Gretchen couldn’t hold his gaze any longer and looked away towards Gale, who gave a snort once Lonnie was back at the head of the group. Gretchen walked slowly as the others moved on to follow Lonnie to the lake. She let her feet drag and stayed close by Gale’s side. She watched her from her peripherals.

Did Gale not remember meeting her before or was she pretending not to know her now? And for that matter, was Lonnie doing the same? The questions had constantly filled her and clouded her head since she joined the group. She hadn’t know them well before everything happened, but she recognized them immediately when she stepped out from behind that bush days ago. How could they not remember her? She’d met them both on the same night, in the same club. She let the thoughts of that night, not long ago, swirl through her mind as she shuffled aimlessly forward.

VIII.

Gretchen locked the door to the photography studio and turned off the lights in the front room. The computer monitor she used to check customers in gave off an eerie glow around her desk. She walked to the back where boxes and crates were piled everywhere, containing cloth backdrops and props for shoots.

Perched on a stack of crates was Gretchen’s girlfriend, Charlie. She was hunched over a Nikon camera, twisting the long lenses off as she inspected it with great detail.

Charlie did the same thing every night after closing up shop. Her work was her pride and joy. She’d built her studio up from the ground after she graduated from Columbia College of Chicago. The city had proved to be such a miraculous subject that she never went back to Long Beach.

Gretchen wasn’t thrilled about the decision to stay. Chicago was too close to home for comfort. She wanted to go back to California, where the sun shone year round and her judgmental parents were thousands of miles away.