Read Grace Lost Page 13


  Chapter 13

   

  We woke before dawn in preparation for the scavenging trip.  There was very little conversation between any of us.  Emilie and I heated water for tea, and set out bowls for dry cereal.  The others leisurely joined us in the kitchen.  Understandably, no one looked particularly excited about venturing back out into the world.

  After breakfast, we all put on an extra layer of clothes and headed outside to get situated in the van.  Julio had helped attach a bracket to the outside of the front door and Gus tied an extravagant knot using twine.  He said it wouldn’t keep anyone intelligent out, but we’d be able to see if it had been tampered with upon our return.  It was a safeguard against reentering the cabin to find unwelcome intruders waiting.  I had suggested the leather chair from our bedroom be moved down to the living room as an extra seat, and for the day it was located in the step van as a comfortable place for Louisa to sit.  The van only had two seats, both situated in the cab.  Julio took his place behind the wheel, with Gus occupying the passenger seat.  Boggs was sitting on a bucket placed upside down between the other two men.  Susan had claimed a wheel well for herself, so Emilie and I shared the other.   We were able to keep in contact with the cab since it had an open walkway between the front and back of the vehicle.

  Julio skillfully backed the step van around so it faced the long drive, and eventually we proceeded forward.  Less than a mile up, we passed the abandoned Explorer.  It looked just as we’d left it, except for being moved to the side of the rough drive and emptied of the supplies we had hauled.

  “Julio, on our way back in let’s tow the Explorer back to the cabin,” said Gus. 

  “Sure thing,” replied the young driver.

  The van swayed, the ruts in the road being exaggerated by the nature of the large vehicle.  I knew we were back on the main highway when the ride smoothed.  I was glad, since my stomach was already reacting to the motion of the van.  I hadn’t thought to bring a vomit bag.  I looked over and saw that Louisa was resting her head on the back of the leather easy chair, her eyes closed.  She clutched a rosary in her hand and her lips were moving almost imperceptibly.  I could tell she was praying, and was glad for it.  I had a hunch we might need all the favors we could call in today.

              “How’s your hip feeling?” asked Emily quietly.

              “A little better, I think.”

              “Good,” she answered.

              Susan was staring at me, and I did my best to ignore her.  I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of acknowledgement.  I let my mind wander as the van swayed gently, thinking back to when I was about ten years old and Boggs and I spent the day exploring a small cave not far from where we lived.  I had wanted to pretend we were cavemen, and he played along to please me.  The day had ended with us smearing ourselves head to toe with mud from the riverbank to camouflage ourselves.  My mom had been furious when I came home filthy.  I loved that memory.  It had been a great day.  I found myself thinking that my mom would be happy knowing I was with Boggs now, with the whole mess going on around us.  Deep in thought, I didn’t hear Boggs talking to me at first. 

              “Zoe, you doing ok?”

              I finally looked up.  “Hmm?”

              “You ok?  You look a million miles away.”

              “Just thinking.  I’m fine.”  I smiled for his benefit.  In truth I was scared.  Not just scared about our scavenging trip, but scared about the future.  Boggs returned the smile then twisted around to face forward again.

              We must have been driving for half an hour or so when the step van came to a slow stop.

  “Looks like the road’s blocked,” announced Gus. “There’s six wrecked cars that we can see.  Everyone sit tight while we figure out what to do.”

  I felt the tiniest flutter of foreign activity in my brain.  It was almost as light as mosquito wings beating against satin.

  “Be careful.  I can feel one of them,” I said.

  Gus nodded, understanding that I was aware of a zombie presence.  “Thanks for the warning, Zoe.”

  “It’s faint, Gus.  I’m not sure if that means it’s far away or what.”

  “Freaky,” whispered Susan.  “Can you seriously sense one?”

  I nodded, not wanting to speak about it.

  “What’s it like?” pressed the woman sitting across from me on the other wheel well.

  I contorted my face in thought.  “Well, this time it’s like a little tickle in my head.  But the other two times I could feel their hunger.  I saw images of what they were experiencing.  It was horrible.”

  Susan was at a loss for words, to my relief.

  Julio spoke to Louisa in Spanish.  Boggs instructed the rest of us to stay in the van until they came back from inspecting the crash site.  Louisa kindly told us that Julio had said the same to her.  As the men left the van and slowly walked toward the wrecked vehicles, we girls crowded into the cab so we could observe.  The first vehicle they came to was an old Toyota pickup.  The canopy from the bed was across the road, broken into several pieces.  We watched as Julio opened the driver’s door and looked through the small cab.  While he did so, Gus moved to the next vehicle, an old Ford station wagon with faux wood paneling running its length.  He put his face close to the passenger window, and then backed away quickly as if alarmed.  I saw him raise his shotgun and reach for the door handle.  Emilie was holding her breath beside me and clung to my arm desperately.

  An image flashed through my mind.  I could see Gus’ face, distorted by the reflection of light on glass.  The tickle in my head grew and the desire for flesh filled me with sourness.

  “It’s in the car, looking at Gus,” I whispered.  “It wants to eat him so badly.”

  From the corner of my eye I saw Louisa make the sign of the Cross. 

  “He’s opening the door,” said Susan.  There was dread in her voice.  “He shouldn’t open the door.”

  “It wants to get at him so bad but it can’t get out,” I moaned.  “It can’t get free of the seatbelt.”  What I saw next I’ll not soon forget.  I saw the barrel of a shotgun staring me in the face.  I knew it was the creature’s eyes seeing it and not truly my own, but the image was so clear inside of my head.  There was a flash of light for the smallest fraction of a second as the shotgun discharged, and then the things that didn’t belong in my head were gone. 

  Finally seeing just for myself again, I watched Gus close the car door with his booted foot and turn back toward the other men.  He was splattered in congealed blood and decayed bits of flesh.  Boggs had his Kahr gripped in both hands, aiming it down toward the asphalt but obviously ready to use it.  He skirted the station wagon and moved to a traditional and beat-up Volkswagen Bug.  He kept his arms slightly outstretched, gun still in hand, as he peered inside.  The passenger door hung open, so he walked around to sort through the car.  I saw him pull out a large purse and shoulder it.  Julio had popped the hood of the Toyota truck and was messing around under the hood.

  “I don’t think there’s any more creatures,” I whispered. 

  “Should we go help them?” asked Louisa.

  “I can go.  Louisa, maybe you should stay here?” I suggested.

  She nodded.  “I’ll just stretch then come back in.”

  I looked over to Susan and Emilie.  Susan wore a look of dread, fright, and nausea all rolled into one.

  “I can’t go out there,” she moaned softly.

  “Em?” I called to my friend.

  “I’ll be right beside you,” she answered.

  Emilie and I walked to the wreck, taking each step slowly until we were sure all three men were aware of our presence.   Gus looked like something the cat had dragged in, shaken, and pawed at over and over.  There was a small stream running beside the
highway, so Emilie took off her sweatshirt and got it wet, then handed it to the man.  He took off his shirt, thanked her, and used the wet cloth to wipe his face and arms.

  “Everything feels calm now that you shot it,” I whispered to Gus. 

  “Thanks for the update, Zoe.”  He winked at me.  I smiled back.

  Boggs had just cleared the last three vehicles and motioned us over.  We walked together, Emilie and I, till we were close enough to not have to raise our voices to speak.

  “The last three cars are clear, girls.  Do you want to search them for anything useful?” asked Boggs.

  “Sure, Boggs,” replied Emilie.  “Glad to help.”

  “Be careful, just in case.”

  I nodded back to him silently.  I was fatigued from my episode in the cab of the van, seeing through the zombie’s eyes.

  Emilie and I split up and walked to two separate cars to search them.  She chose a Chevrolet Tracker, which was rather small, and I opted for the only two-seater in the mix, which was even smaller.  It was a green MGB, an old roadster.  The soft top was down, so looking through the inside was easy.  There was an abandoned backpack behind the passenger seat and a case of beer behind the driver’s seat.  I unzipped the pack and searched the contents.  It contained a large hunting knife, a t-shirt, a pair of socks, a pair of yoga pants, three sixteen ounce bottles of water, and a box of granola bars.  Someone must have been in a huge hurry to leave the commodities behind.  I zipped the pack closed and put it over my arms to settle on my back as it was meant to be worn.  I grabbed the case of beer and set it on the hood.  I walked back to the interior and looked through the glove box.  A small pistol sat under loose papers.  I wasn’t a fan of guns but knew it was a revolver.  I picked it up, took a chance on figuring out how to open the cylinder, and discovered it had six rounds left.  I set it on top of the beer, and then moved to the driver’s side in search of a trunk release.  Not finding one, I walked around to the back and realized the little keyhole arm was a handle.  I managed to open it, and then made sure the hold bar latched in place.  There was a medium sized suitcase on wheels and two tote bags.  They were all relatively light, so I hauled them to the front of the car.  I thought it would be wise to sort through them later instead of here in the open where we were vulnerable.

   I looked over to the station wagon, where the three men had congregated.  They had gone back to the step van at some point and fetched the bucket Boggs had been using as a seat, and were siphoning gasoline into it.  Julio had taken a hose off of the Toyota’s engine to use as the siphon.  Emilie stepped beside me.

  “Find anything good?” she asked quietly.

  “Definitely,” I answered quickly.

  “Not me.  The stinking car was empty.  I’ll help carry your load over.”

  I nodded.  “Should we search the last car first?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  We proceeded together to the farthest car from the wreck.  It was so mangled we weren’t sure of the make.   The car was too contorted to even try to open the doors.

  “Em, I’m not sure it’s even safe to try to search it,” I voiced my concern.

  “Let’s just circle it and do a visual then,” she suggested.

  We walked around the car, looking in through the cracked and broken windows.  There was a briefcase on the floor board, but it would be a stretch to reach.

  “Oh, God,” I said.

  Emilie looked up quickly, alarmed.  “What is it?”

  “A foot,” I said.  I wanted to vomit.

  “Let’s get the stuff back to the van, Zoe.”

  “Good idea.”

  We walked back to the stash of new supplies and I stuffed the small gun into the backpack.  It took us two trips to take the bags and beer back to the step van.  By then the men had fashioned a funnel out of a piece of flimsy cardboard they had found and rolled up.  The five gallon bucket was nearly full of fuel.  They emptied it into the gas tank, which took obvious effort.

  Emilie went back inside the van to check on Susan and Louisa and to update them.  I stayed outside, watching the men try to not spill precious fuel.  After the bucket was empty, Julio and Gus went to another of the vehicles to siphon more gas.  Boggs and I talked about the plan to clear the road by pushing the cars off to the side, or in some cases over the edge of the road.  I told him about the briefcase we couldn’t safely reach and the amputated foot within the car.  He agreed that leaving the briefcase sounded like the best plan. 

  The other two guys came back over with three quarters of a bucket of gasoline and repeated the process of emptying it into the van’s fuel tank.  The sun was leaving its perch high above us and just starting to head toward the horizon in the west again.  I wanted to head back to the cabin but knew we still had a lot of work to do.

  “What’s next?” I asked.

  “We need to move enough cars to get through,” answered Gus.  “Then off to find supplies.  I figure we might as well make use of the gas.”

  “Makes sense,” I said.  “You guys smell like gasoline.”

  “Yes we do, chica,” said Julio with a grin.  “The smell of hard working men!”  He laughed, full of life.  I admired that.

  “Zoe, do you think you can drive the step van through slowly as we move the cars off the road?” asked Boggs.  “It’s not much different that driving a car, just bigger and top heavy.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be ok,” I said.

  “Ok then.  The key is still in the ignition.  Start by pulling up behind the Tracker.  It’ll go first, over the edge.”

  “Ok,” I said in acknowledgement.

  Boggs continued.  “After the Tracker, just slowly pull up to the convertible, then do the same thing until we get to the Bug.  Once we have those three rolled out of the way, we’ll all get back in and Gus will take over at the wheel.  The last car is so damaged we’ll need to push it over the edge with the van.”

  “Is that safe?” I asked.  “Should the rest of us get out while he pushes it over?”

  “It should be ok, Zoe,” said Gus.  “I’ll take it slow.  We’d use one of the other cars but they’re all banged up.  Flat tires, crunched fenders, axles might be toast.”

  “Ok,” was all I said.  I really just wanted to get it over with, move on with the day, and get back home.

  “You ready?” asked Julio.

  I nodded quickly.  “Ready.”

  Boggs stepped closer to me and gave me a sincere hug, then kissed me briefly on the lips.  “See you in a few minutes, Zo,” he whispered.

  “See you in a few,” I replied.

  I walked back to the step van and climbed into the driver’s seat.  I explained to the other three girls what was going on.  They were busy looking through the bags and suitcase I had found in the MGB.  It looked like clothes, mostly.  I turned the key that had been left in the ignition, and the van roared to life.  I disengaged the parking brake, which was a heavy lever off to the left by the floor board, and put the van in drive using the column gear shift.  I slowly took my foot off of the brake and used the engine to pull us forward slowly instead of relying on the gas pedal.  When I got a few feet from the Tracker, I stepped on the brake and waited while Julio got into the driver’s seat of the wrecked car in order to steer toward the ravine below.  Gus and Boggs both pushed on the rear end until it was at the edge.  Julio got out and joined the other two men at the rear of the vehicle.  They pushed, sending the car over the edge and out of the way.  I had expected the resulting crash to be louder.  I let the van creep forward, steering to the right a bit to avoid a piece of metal lying in the road.  The men were waiting for me at the convertible.  It was the most intact of all six vehicles, but had no keys and would offer little protection from the living dead, so trying to salvage it had seemed pointless.  Julio again took the driver’s seat to steer while Gus and Boggs pushed.  They led it to the left shoulder.  The Volkswagen went just as smoothly.  I weav
ed the step van through the path they had created and stopped several feet away from the unidentifiable car. 

  Gus half ran to my side of the cab.  I set the parking brake for him and left the engine idling in neutral.  I half crouched and stepped between the two seats, and walked to the back of the van.  Boggs joined me in the back, and Julio took the passenger seat.  Louisa was comfortably situated in her easy chair, Susan and Emilie each seated on one of the wheel wells like before.  Boggs’ bucket seat was now about half full of siphoned gasoline and sitting back on the side of the road hidden behind a shrub.  We left it there to pick up on the return trip, to avoid fumes inside the van.  The hope was to use it for the Explorer.  The men had all splashed gas on their shirts while filling the van’s tank so we left those behind as well, leaving Gus bare from the waist up and Boggs and Julio both in t-shirts.  I sat on the tuck bed against the side of the van next to where Emilie was situated.  Boggs joined me on the floor. 

  “Ladies, it might be noisy while Gus pushes the car into the ravine.  Try not to worry,” said Boggs.

  I felt the van lurch forward.  It slowed, and the impact of van and car was a subtle shudder accompanied by the loud screeching of metal on metal.  I could feel the van struggle just slightly pushing against the mass of twisted glass and steel that sat in the roadway.  The van was large and heavy and eventually I felt the other car break free of us.

  “We’re clear,” Gus called back to us.

  I let the air escape my lungs, not realizing until then that I had been holding my breath.  I looked at Boggs, and he wrapped an arm around me.

  “It’ll be ok, Zo.”

  “I hope so,” I said.

  “Unless a zombie eats you,” taunted Susan cruelly.

  I glared at her.

  Emilie took the opportunity to interrupt.  “The bags are full of clothes.  Nothing fancy but we can probably use them.”

  “Oh, Boggs, I found a revolver in the glove box of the convertible.”  I had forgotten about the gun with everything else happening so quickly.

  “Ya?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “And a hunting knife.  They’re both in the backpack.”  I gestured toward the headache rack that separated us from the passenger seat, where the backpack was stashed.

  “Cool,” he said.  “I’ll take a look when we stop next.”

  We sat beside each other, resting, while Gus drove.  It was hard to tell how much time passed.

   “I see a building up on the right,” said Julio finally. 

  “I see it,” said Gus.

  “Boggs called up to the other men.  “What is it?”

  “Hard to say,” said Gus.  “It’s not huge.  I’m going to stop the van here.  Zoe, can you come up front?”

  I looked at Boggs.  He shrugged.

  “Ok,” I said as I stood.  My left leg had fallen asleep, so I hobbled up to the cab.

  “Zoe, I hate to ask but do you sense anything here?” asked Gus kindly.

  I looked out the windshield at the small brick building not far away.  Nothing buzzed, tickled, or tormented my brain.   I shook my head.  “Not so far.’

  Gus looked thoughtful for a moment.  I’m going to park in front, and then ask you again.  Is that ok?”

  I looked at him.  “Sure.  Anything I can do to help, Gus.  I just want to get us all back home ok.”

  He smiled at me.  “Good girl.  Ok, mind standing here?  Just hold onto the backs of our seats for stability while I park.”

  I gripped both seats, and the van lurched forward again.  It took all of two minutes to pull off the highway and situate the van in front of the small building.  We could see the sign now.

  Edith’s General Store

  “Hot damn,” said Julio.  “It’s a general store!”

  “Ok, before everyone gets too excited let’s just sit back and figure out our next move.  Zoe, how does it feel here?” Gus questioned me.

  I concentrated on my own mind.  I still felt nothing unusual.  “Nothing,” I said.

  Gus turned halfway around so he could look into the back of the van and talk to us all at once.  “I think we should make this quick.  In and out.  Load up what we can and head back toward the cabin.  Let’s not get too dependent on Zoe’s feelings.  We need to assume anyone, or anything, can be in there.  Boggs, Julio and I will go in and clear the building, and then all of us can go in and gather supplies.  Everyone got it?”

  We all either nodded or grunted or said “yes.”

  “Gus?” I said to get his attention.

  “Ya?” 

  “Just…be careful, ok?”

  “We all will,” he answered.  “Ok, Julio, Boggs.  Let’s do this bad boy.”

  The three men made sure their firearms were readied and exited the van.  I watched as they walked to the building, keeping away from windows until they could better assess the situation inside. I thought all three looked tense, understandably so.  Emilie came to stand beside me.  Neither of us seemed interested in actually leaving the back of the van to sit in the cab.  I think instinct must have told us to stay out of view.

  Julio reached his hand out to the door handle of the store and tried pulling on it.  He lifted his hand from the handle and raised both arms in the air.  I watched as he stepped back, and the door opened outward.  A rough looking old man with greasy gray hair and a scraggly beard to match walked out, holding a sawed-off shotgun.  While I couldn’t hear his exact words, the man was talking in a raised voice that sounded threatening.  I watched as Julio and the other two men from our group all slowly lower their guns to the ground, then stand and place their hands on their heads.  I had a sinking feeling in my stomach.  The old man continued to yell at Julio, who was shaking his head back and forth.  I had a hunch he was pleading with the man, and as calmly as I could I asked Susan to bring the backpack from the wrecked cars to me.  I didn’t take my eyes off our companions who were outside the store.  Thankfully Susan had the good sense to not question me when I asked her to fetch the bag, and moments later I felt the pack being held out for my waiting hand.  Julio was now down on his knees, his hands still clasped behind his head.  I unzipped the pack blindly, still not averting my eyes from the scene in front of the store.  I reached in, feeling for the revolver.  I found the hunting knife first and handed it to Emilie.

  “Zoe?  What do we do?” asked Emilie.  I could hear her voice trembling with fear.

  “What is it?” asked Susan.

  Neither of us answered, and I could sense her standing directly behind us.

  “Oh fuck,” she said.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

  Louisa was still in the back, and I didn’t want her seeing what was going on.

  “Susan, go sit with Louisa, please?” begged Emilie.  “Zoe, that’s a semi-automatic shotgun.  That’s serious shit.”  How she knew this, I’m not sure.

  At last my hand came into contact with the revolver, and I pulled it out of the pack.  I quickly opened the cylinder even though I knew it held ammo.  I shut it, hoping I did it correctly.  Julio was starting to move his hands away from his head and the dirty old man seemed to agitate further.  Boggs and Gus were as close to Julio as they dared, and by the looks on their faces I could tell they felt helpless.  Any time one of them attempted to advance, the old man got louder and began waving his gun.  Suddenly the old man fired the shotgun, and Julio tumbled backward onto the asphalt of the store parking lot.  I felt my core go numb.  Time slowed momentarily and nothing seemed real.  I was brought back to real time when I heard Susan starting to sob. 

  “Be quiet!” I said sharply.  “Stay quiet!  He doesn’t know we’re in here!”

  Susan continued to cry, but it sounded like she had covered her mouth with her hands.

  I looked in time to see the old man pump the shot gun, chambering another round.  The man was aiming the gun at Gus and Boggs, alternating waving it between the two of them.  Julio lay in a pool of blood,
half of his head and chest missing. 

  Without thinking it over, I climbed down from the passenger seat and landed on the parking lot surface as quietly as I could.  I was glad the men had left the sliding door open.  I clutched the revolver in my right hand and crouched down by the tire.  I was out of sight of the old man as well as Gus and Boggs, and knew I had to keep it that way in order to stay hidden.  I crawled to the front bumper, where I dared to peek.  Gus and Boggs were both on their knees at this point, and I could hear Gus trying to reason with the man.  I held the revolver up and ran through what Boggs had taught me in the car the day we had fled his house and left Silvana behind.  Aim, breathe in, exhale part way, shoot.  Make sure your aim is true.  Use two hands.  I gripped the revolver in my right hand, supported my wrist with my left, and steadied both on the bumper of the van.  I looked down the sight and tried to track the old man.  It was far from easy.  Something felt wrong, and I had a hard time pinpointing it.  Boggs had shown me how to chamber a round in his Kahr, but that was different than a revolver.   I wracked my brain and realized that in the movies, cowboys always pull the hammer back before firing.  I tried to slow my breathing, and pulled the hammer of the revolver back.  It felt stiff and took a lot of effort.  It made a small click and I prayed no one else had heard it.  I noticed the man was aiming at Gus in particular and decided it was now or never.

  “Breathe, Zoe,” I whispered to myself.

  I repositioned the gun in my hands and used the bumper to steady my aim again.  I looked down the sight and attempted to track the old man’s head.  I could tell he was escalating by how intensely he held his weapon.

  I breathed in, and as I exhaled I kept my hands as steady as I could and squeezed the trigger.  The kick from the gun was greater than I had expected, knocking me onto my butt.  My ears rang from the sound of the gun firing.  Emilie was looking down at me within seconds, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying.  She helped me stand, and as my hearing started to return I was aware of Louisa screaming.  I knew she had discovered that her husband was dead, and I felt sick.  I was numb inside, a numb I had never experienced before.

  “Zoe.  Zoe, can you hear me?” asked Emilie. 

  I looked at her, not quite able to answer. 

  “Fuck, Zoe, you shot him in the head,” I heard Susan’s voice next to me.  “Fucking A, girl.  You shot that goddamn fucking bastard in the goddamn fucking head.  Holy fuck!”

  I looked at Emilie.  “What happened?” I asked. 

  “I think she’s in shock,” said Susan.

   

  I don’t remember getting back into the step van.  I was sitting on a blanket on the floor of the van’s boxy back end.  Louisa was sitting on her own blanket across the truck, sobbing and moaning in Spanish.  The van was moving again.  I could tell by the smoothness of the road that we were back on the highway.  Boggs was beside me, stroking my hair.  Emilie and Susan sat on either side of Louisa, trying to comfort her.  I could tell from the lighting in the cab that the sun had started to set.  More time had passed than I had been aware of. 

  “Where are we?” I asked Boggs.

  “We’re headed back to the cabin, Zo.  You’ve been asleep for over an hour.”

  “Louisa.  Is she ok?”  As soon as I asked the question, I realized it was a stupid one.

  Boggs shook his head back and forth.  “Not really.”

  “Julio,” I started crying.  “Oh God, Boggs…”

  “Shhhh,” he tried to soothe me.  “I know, I know.”

  “Boggs, did I kill that man?”

  He nodded.  “You also saved me and Gus, and probably Em, Susan and Louisa too.  You did good, kiddo.”  He kissed my forehead tenderly and held me to his chest.  “You did good.”

  I leaned against him, my heart breaking for Louisa.  I wasn’t sure how to cope with the fact that I had killed another human.  I’d save that for another day.  I cried myself back to sleep.