“No,” Erik laughed. “Why would I?”
“Because you used to do it.”
“I got out of that habit when I was sixteen. You know that.”
“Not really. You could’ve picked it back up.”
“I assure you, I didn’t. Even if I did, what business would it be to you?”
“You’re my friend. I’m worried about you.”
“Just because I’m being visited by my little brother’s ghost doesn’t mean I’m going off the deep end.”
“It’s not that hard to get there nowadays.”
“What about you?” Erik asked. “You still think about Jake?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Jamie said, setting his head on the pillow.
“But you—”
“I said I didn’t want to talk about it. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Erik said, rolling onto his side.
Jamie closed his eyes.
The past was the past. He had to keep telling himself that.
A knock came at the door at four-thirty a.m. Roused from sleep by both the sound and the idea that something was coming to get him, Jamie rolled out of bed and quickly crossed the room. When he reached the door, he started to peer out it, but stopped when Erik lifted his head. When he mouthed ‘Who is it?’, Jamie shook his head, then peered out the peephole. Desmond stood outside, hands in his pockets. “It’s Desmond,” he said.
“Desmond?” Erik frowned. “What’s he doing here?”
Jamie opened the door. “What’s up, buddy?” he asked, leaning an arm against the doorjamb.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure. Of course you can.”
“I’m not dressed,” Erik said.
“I don’t care,” Desmond replied. Jamie closed the door and Erik pulled the sheet up over his waist. “Sorry for bothering you guys.”
“No problem,” Jamie said, locking the door behind them. “What’s the matter? Why’re you here, especially so late at night?”
“I’ve been sleeping on the floor.” Desmond paused to reconsider his words. “Sergeant put me up in the kitchen,” he continued. “Said we needed to keep the rooms open just in case more refugees come in.”
“That’s bullshit,” Jamie growled, heading for the door. “I’m gonna up there and give him a piece of my mind.”
“Please, don’t,” Erik moaned. “This is exactly why no one used to tell you anything back in high school.”
“You went to school together?” Desmond asked.
“We grew up in the same neighborhood. Next door to each other, actually.”
“Can we cut the pleasantries?” Jamie asked. “This is bullshit.”
“Yes, Jamie, you’ve made that more than clear.”
“It doesn’t really matter,” Desmond said, looking down at his feet. “I was just wondering if I could bum a place on your couch.”
“Go ahead,” Erik said.
“Desmond,” Jamie started.
The boy made his way toward the couch. “Really, sir, it’s ok. I…I just don’t like being alone, that’s all.”
“What’ve you been sleeping on for the past two nights?”
“A mattress.”
“So at least you haven’t been completely uncomfortable,” Erik said, rolling onto his stomach.
“You can stay here,” Jamie said. “You want to sleep in my bed?”
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” the boy said. “Thank you, Jamie.”
Desmond stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jamie’s chest.
When the boy set his head against his shoulder, Jamie wrapped his arms around him.
If his life amounted to nothing more than helping this boy, that was enough for him.
CHAPTER 3
“Fuck,” Dakota breathed. “It’s hot.”
“What do you expect?” Steve asked. “It just rained.”
“We shouldn’t be getting warm fronts in September.”
“We’ve been getting a lot of things we shouldn’t’ve.” Steve stopped in the middle of the road. He raised his hand and shielded his eyes to peer down the street to their east.
“What?” Dakota asked.
“I’m trying to figure out where to go.”
“We’re not going to get anywhere without a car.”
“Huh?”
Dakota shot his friend a dirty look. “You heard me.”
“Don’t start.”
“You’re the one who didn’t want to take the bus. We were perfectly capable of taking them just down the road, but no. You said it would draw too much attention.”
“It would!”
“At least we’d be high up. They couldn’t break the windows.”
“And if we got stuck? They’d swarm the bus and we’d still be dead.”
“That’s not the point, Steve.”
“Then what is the point?”
“Never mind.” Dakota turned and started up the road.
“Where are you going?”
“To find something that’ll help us!” Dakota said, turning to face his friend. He spread his arms and continued walking backward, flushing his fingers to gesture Steve along. “Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there like an idiot? We can argue all day and still get nothing done, Steve, so we might as well just—”
“DUCK!”
Dakota threw himself forward.
Steve fired his gun.
A moment later, the telltale signs of a corpse falling to the ground echoed throughout Dakota’s ears. “Fuck!”
“What?” Steve asked, falling to his side.
“Nothing! I’m ok! I’m ok!” Dakota cried, pushing himself to his knees. His throbbing elbows dripped fresh blood onto the rocky road below him. “Shit. It hurts.”
“Let’s get you away from there,” Steve said, pulling Dakota to his feet. “You didn’t get any blood on you, right?”
“No. You shot it pretty far back.”
“Doesn’t matter. You can still get blood on you.”
“I didn’t.” Grimacing, Dakota brushed the rocks and dirt off his elbows as best as he could. “Sorry for being such an asshole.”
“Happens to the best of us.”
“What’re we gonna do, Steve?”
“I honestly have no idea,” Steve said, setting a hand at his side. “Right about now, your bus idea is sounding like a good one.”
“So why not do it?”
“I’m just not too sure about anything right now.”
“Look,” Dakota said, taking hold of his friend’s arms, “I get where you’re coming from, Steve, I really do. But there’s nothing here for us anymore. We’ve been walking the streets all morning and we haven’t seen a single person, we’ve had to dodge around or avoid at least ten zombies, all the stores are raided and most of the buildings that were probably safe aren’t anymore. There’s nothing left for us here.”
“Nothing,” Steve mumbled. “Nothing at all.”
“Exactly! Which is why I say we go for it now, while we still have a chance. We’ve got supplies, we know where the bus depot is, we can get supplies from the store across the street. Let’s go for it. We’ve got nothing to lose, right?”
“I guess not,” Steve sighed. He turned to face the direction they’d just come from. “Let’s go.”
“Let’s go,” Dakota agreed, “and get the hell out of this town.”
After procuring supplies from the hardware store, Dakota and Steve cut the lock on the bus depot’s gate and stole into the parking lot. Once inside, they broke into the garage and went to work on the highest bus they could find—an ice-blue, five-aisle vehicle that appeared to have made its way from one of the bigger cities only to be left behind.
“Big fucker,” Steve said, pulling himself out from under the hood.
“Yeah,” Dakota said. “It is.”
He looked at the machine and imagined it wrapped in barbed wire. A beast, it would be, were its sides equipped to eviscerate the bodies of the undead, as would its grill if it bore fangs, but such enhancements would only serve to further complicate its purpose. The bus need not take hold of its enemies and rip them apart—it need only push them aside should they get too close.