and over-stuffed chairs and sofa. The traveler has apparently searched
the house and found a note on the refrigerator door. He is holding the
yellowed piece of paper in his hand, staring at it.
She says she’s going to Atlanta with a group of
people. The phones are down, and there’s
nothing to eat.
The traveler looks up at Finegan and then down at Joey, connecting with
their faces briefly, then goes back to staring at the note.
That’s it. That’s all I’ve got. Off to Atlanta,
I guess. . . That’s the state capital.
They turn to go out the front door and suddenly freeze. There are
zombie people at the front door. The zombie people are at the windows
too. Finegan speaks quietly, so that only he and Joey and the traveler
can make out what he’s saying.
They look malnourished, not mean. I hear they
refused to leave the town.
Nobody is moving, all frozen, so finally Finegan has a plan.
41
Backs together now, let’s just push our way out
the front door.
Finegan and the traveler are shoulder to shoulder, with Joey facing
backwards, at their back, his knife drawn and turned upward in front of
his chest. They move as a tight group toward the front door.
The zombies are gently knocked aside as Finegan and the traveler come
out the front door, pushing steadily but gently. When the way seems
clear, they pick up the pace, Finegan with his spare hand on the scuff
of Joey’s neck, making sure he is not left behind. Joey is almost glued
to their backs, walking backwards, his eyes moving from side to side,
scanning for danger.
When they seem clear by a couple feet, they all bolt in the direction
of the canoe, running.
OK. Run for it!
The zombies are following them, staggering along wordlessly, too
malnourished to break into a run but clearly intending to follow.
______________________________
The threesome are running back to where the canoe is pulled ashore and
clamor into it, the traveler pushing the canoe out into the water and
stepping in at the last minute. He and Finegan push away from the
shore, and paddle upstream energetically. The zombies are approaching
the shore, still following them. The traveler says,
Lord! No wonder my mother left. Were we
supposed to be supper?
Finegan replies,
Not sure, but I think they were just curious. I
think they eat rats, stuff like that. Mostly,
they’ve just been starving. Waiting to be
rescued. Probably near brain dead too, from
starvation.
Finegan and Joey have been glancing over their shoulder. Finegan says,
I think we’re pulling away, but I want to put
some miles between us. I’ll give you a good
breakfast in the morning if you’ll help me get
upstream tonight.
The traveler says,
Deal. I owe you that.
______________________________
42
The houseboat is moored at a small island in the center of the river,
tied to a tree. Finegan has just finished tying the knots, and returns
to pick up where he left off the day before – making a meal. He is
pulling some potatoes from a bin, and taking some fish out of the
wooden box he uses as a cooler. He sniffs the fish and determines they
are not yet spoiled. Finegan fires the coals and puts a blackened pot
of coffee on the grill, then pulls a pan out and slices potatoes and an
onion into it.
Joey and Barney were asleep on the deck, as usual, but stir due to all
the commotion. The Traveler is asleep on the house roof, hat over his
face, and snoring. Finegan glances at the traveler and says,
We’ve been taking shifts all night. I recon
he’s played out.
Finegan scans the shore in the direction of Millstown, several miles
downstream.
I recon we shook the shufflers. Joey, after we
eat, I’m crashing. You stand watch, eh?
At the smell of frying fish and potatoes and onions in a pan, the
traveler awakes, raising first one knee and then rolling over onto his
side, hand under his chin and hat pushed back on his head.
Boy that smells good . .
Energized, he rolls onto his butt and scuffs on his butt over to the
edge of the roof, climbing down using pile of boxes as stairs.
I’m going upstream a’ways and then overland to
Atlanta. . . Not sure what I’ll find.
Finegan is dishing out the pan-fry onto three plates, and hands one to
the traveler, then pours mugs of coffee. Finegan casts a glance at the
traveler’s shoes, soft sole for comfort while canoeing.
You’ll need some walking boots. What’er you
goin to do with the canoe? Carry is overland? .
. I’ve got some boots in a box. They might fit.
Joey gets his clue and puts his plate down, wiping his mouth with the
back of his hand. He goes into the house and starts searching for the
box labeled “boots”. Finegan is also rummaging around in the laundry
pile, and pulls out a red bandana. He holds it up.
Tie this on a tree where you stash the canoe. .
. Even trade. . . You goin to need some socks?
43
The Castle
The houseboat is approaching a broken concrete dam, shattered by the
earthquakes. The floodwaters have raised the water level to the top of
the former dam, but there is not enough clearance to go over without
scraping the bottom of the houseboat, potentially getting caught and
stranded.
There are flooded trees but mostly the banks are clear and steep.
Finegan selects a sturdy tree as his anchor and ties up. The canoe is
tied firmly to the side of the houseboat, the paddles laid in the
bottom. Not a soul is in sight.
Finegan is pulling a tub out from the clutter, and sorting laundry,
preparing to finally have laundry day. Joey emerges from the house
holding an old Tide box.
This?
Finegan glances up.
No, that’s salt. It’s a brown box. Slivered bar
soap.
The camping grill is at the side, heating a pot of water, which can be
seen steaming. Finegan takes a couple pails of river water, pouring it
into the tub. He examines the box Joey brought from the house and
shakes some of this into the tub, then immediately pours boiling water