Chapter 51
It’s a relief to be with a group of people again. All those days, when it was just Brian and me, I couldn’t help but wonder if that was it. If we were it. The last man and woman alive, like in that old Vincent Price movie, “The Last Man on Earth.” (I think there’s one called “The Last Woman on Earth,” too. Not sure if they’re related.) It sounded silly even then, but a week without seeing any other live human beings will make you wonder.
We still don’t know for sure if there are any others outside our little group, but at least we have each other. We each have our roles here. Kevin is the leader and sort of a father figure, or a big brother, to everyone. He’s not much older than most of us, but he has this commanding presence that makes you look up to him, respect him, trust him. I guess it’s because he was in the Air Force. He knows what he’s doing. He knows this place.
Jo is like the mother, then. Not just because she’s the oldest woman, but because she’s a natural caretaker. She tries to keep us organized, keep us calm. She’s a comfort to have around, especially for Gabby, but all of us appreciate her.
Howie would like to be second in command, but really, I think that’s AJ. He’s the tough guy; he and Kevin work well together, even though they have totally different personalities. Maybe that’s why Howie and Kevin are always at each other’s throats – they’re too alike, too used to being in charge. AJ doesn’t want to boss anyone else around; he just wants to do his own thing, and Kevin lets him.
Nick pretty much goes wherever he’s needed and does what he’s asked. He and Riley are newer to the group, like Brian and me, so I guess we’re all still learning our place. The three of them are learning how to shoot and how to fight the zombies. I’ve been helping Jo, making sure we have food and water, cleaning up around the church. It’s not exciting work, but somebody’s got to do it.
Gabby will usually help us, especially if I’m the one who asks her – she gripes occasionally if her mom does, but then, she is a thirteen-year-old girl. I was the same way at that age. Kayleigh is worse. I know most of the others are annoyed with her. I try to be understanding; she’s just dealing with everything in her own way, like the rest of us, and not doing so well with it. She’s depressed. But it’s hard to accept someone just lying around while the rest of us do everything we can to keep the group safe. We’re all mourning the ones we lost, but if we don’t protect ourselves, we’ll end up just like them. I’m not sure Kayleigh would even mind.
I would, though. I get down sometimes, too, but I know I have to keep going, keep fighting. I have to survive for Shawn. I know he’s out there, looking for me… I just have to be alive when he finds me.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Week One
“Goodnight, everybody.”
“Goodnight, Kevin!”
“Goodnight, Gabby.”
“Goodnight, Mom.”
“Goodnight, Gabby.”
“Goodnight, Riley!”
“Goodnight, Nick.”
“Goodnight, Spunky!”
“Woof!”
“Goodnight, Kayleigh.”
“Goodnight, Howie.”
“Goodnight, Brian!”
“Goodnight, Gretchen.”
“Goodnight, AJ!”
“Goodnight, John Boy!”
A round of laughter.
“Who’s John Boy??”
“Never mind, Gabby, you’re too young.”
“I don’t know who John Boy is either.”
“The Waltons, Kayleigh; he’s from The Waltons.”
“How come she gets to ask a question without being snapped at, but I don’t? That’s unfair!”
“You got an answer, didn’t you?”
“Enough, guys. Let’s just go to sleep.”
“Yes, Dad!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Goodnight, Kevin.”
“Goodnight, everybody.”
As silence fell upon the sanctuary, Gretchen lay awake on her pew, listening. She’d done a lot of listening over the last three days, much more than talking. It was a nice change, a perk of being around ten people instead of just Brian. With Brian, she’d talked more than usual just to pass the time, fill the silence. Now she was content to let the others make the conversation – and the decisions.
There were a lot of strong personalities in the group, she’d noticed. Brian’s cousin Kevin was the natural leader, as the oldest man, the military officer, and the one most familiar with the base. But she could tell that Howie, who had run his own company, was also someone who was used to being in charge and liked to micromanage. He and Kevin constantly butted heads, as they argued over decisions. Riley was another Type A personality, and though she’d been cordial ever since they’d arrived, Gretchen could sense she was not a woman to be crossed. And then there was AJ, who was not afraid to speak of his mind – or, it seemed, of anything else. It was he who had been volunteering to take on nighttime guard duty, in order to let Kevin oversee the day-to-day operations around the base.
With so many contenders vying for control, there was no need for the leadership of a teacher. Gretchen could manage a classroom, but she didn’t know the first thing about fortifying buildings or checking generators or making battle plans. In this setting, she was better off keeping her mouth shut and going along with the decisions of those who knew what they were doing. She didn’t yet know where she fit in this group, but she would find her niche, eventually.
Painfully, she rolled over so that she was facing the back of the pew, turned away from the others. It was hard to sleep in the sanctuary, almost as bad as it had been in the gas station. Her bruised ribs ached when she was lying down, and just the slightest movement in the wrong way was enough to cause stabbing pains so sharp, they took her breath away. The pews were padded, which made them preferable to the floor, but they were also narrow. The bigger of the guys chose to just crash in sleeping bags on the floor.
She could hear one of them tossing and turning now, the waterproof material of his sleeping bag rubbing together. Probably Nick – he was the most restless, constantly moving some part of his body. He reminded her of boys she’d had in her class, the kind who took medicine for ADHD. Just like those kids, Nick was a clown, always making jokes or singing. But also, like them, he was sort of loveable, in his own way. He had a cute personality, and his goofy sense of humor did a lot to lighten the mood around the church. With the others so serious and brooding all the time, Nick – and his dog – were good for morale.
Just not good for my insomnia, thought Gretchen, rolling her eyes as she listened to him thumping around while he adjusted his position up on the altar. The sounds were another hard part of sleeping in the sanctuary. Gretchen normally liked the noises of night – the high-pitched symphony of crickets chirping, the low rumbling of motors as cars drove by, the gentle flutter of leaves as a calm summer breeze blew in through the open window, or the mournful howl of the wind whipping around outside on a blustery evening.
But here, those noises were absent. There were no crickets – or locusts or birds or any animals, for that matter. They all seemed to have disappeared when the dead rose, instinctively fleeing from something even they knew was unnatural, a threat. There were, of course, no cars, and no breeze, because they kept all the windows firmly shut and locked against the undead, despite the smothering heat. Inside the sanctuary, there were only human sounds – blankets rustling, bodies shifting; the snores of those sleeping lightly, mixed with the murmurs of those deep in dreams, and the whimpers and screams of those lost in nightmares.
Gabby, in particular, had had a rough time with the latter since Gretchen had been there. She put on a good front during the day, but Gretchen could tell the youngest among them was having a tougher time than she let on. At least she had her mother nearby, though Kevin seemed to have taken her under his wing as well.
In any case, Gretchen found it hard to get to sleep with the little sounds of nine other people taking the place of the usual white noise that soothed her. Even worse was the occasional, distant moan of the undead that still prowled the base, which caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end, her body crawling with goosebumps. Every time this happened, many of those who were still awake to hear it would sit upright, looking around, before settling back down, and then the tossing and turning would begin again. It was a wonder any of them slept, but eventually, they always did, awaking in the morning not quite refreshed, but still alive, at least.
On that night, it was raining, just the kind of summer thunderstorm Gretchen loved. The light spatter of raindrops on the sloped rooftop and down the stained glass window was a lonely sound, but in a way, it comforted her. She pressed her cheek up against the smooth, stained wood pew back, savoring its relative coolness, and drifted to sleep.
A guttural shout awoke her.
“WAKE UP! C’MON, WAKE UP NOW!”
Gretchen struggled to sit up, her ribs twinging. Spunky was barking, her sharp yelps interrupted only by low growls. Gretchen had never heard the sweet golden retriever sound so menacing. She blinked, looking around for the dog, her vision taking in only blurred shapes in the dim light. She reached for her glasses. The sanctuary was still shadowy, lit by only a single, flickering altar candle, but squinting through the darkness, she could make out a hunched figure running up the aisle.
She recognized AJ by voice, rather than shape. “Fucking wake up!” he hissed. “There’s-”
The stained glass window exploded.
Gasping, Gretchen rolled off her pew and fell to her knees, shielding herself behind the pew in front of her, as shards of colored glass flew like shrapnel, raining down upon the altar. The colossal crash was enough to wake the others; she heard shouts and screams at the front of the sanctuary. But when she raised her head over the back of the pew, it wasn’t just the other survivors she saw stirring.
More figures were shuffling in through the shattered panes of the floor-to-ceiling window. Gretchen saw their contorted bodies silhouetted in the candlelight, heard their ravenous moans, and knew this was it. Their sanctuary had been invaded. They were done for.
“LET’S GO!” bellowed AJ. Gretchen’s pew was near the back, and he reached her first. Grabbing her arm, he jerked her up roughly and shoved her into the aisle. “RUN, GO!”
Gretchen ran. She heard footsteps behind her and put on a fresh burst of speed, afraid to look back, unsure if her pursuer was man or monster. She slammed into the sanctuary doors, forcing them open, and darted into the foyer. There she hesitated, torn between the open door to the outside and the large multipurpose room across the hall.
“In there!” shouted a deep voice behind her, and Gretchen turned to see Kevin pointing to the multipurpose room. He was already armed with his gun. She jumped reflexively as she heard a round of gunfire from inside the sanctuary, drowning out the moans and the screams. Before she could react, Kevin had already run back in, and the sound of his rifle joined that of its brother.
Gretchen raced across the hall and pulled open one of the double doors to the multipurpose room. Before she could get inside, a small figure ducked under her arm and scurried in first, towing a larger figure behind her – Gabby and her mother, Jo. Gretchen wanted to follow them in and lock the door behind her, but instead, she stood at the threshold, holding it open for more survivors. She was prepared to slam it shut at the first glimpse of a zombie.
Howie came running out next, Kayleigh on his heels. “Where are the others?” Gretchen asked them frantically, as Howie doubled over, panting, and Kayleigh collapsed like a gelatinous blob on the floor, sobbing. “Are they coming?”
“They’re shooting,” Howie offered pointlessly, as another round of fire rang out from the sanctuary.
Gretchen took a headcount in the darkness. They were missing five – half the group. Kevin… Brian… AJ… Nick… Riley. Were they all fighting zombies, she wondered, or had some of them been hurt?
“We should round up some materials to barricade the door,” said Howie, flipping on the lights. The fluorescent lights in the ceiling buzzed as they gradually brightened, powered by the generators. He pointed across the room, and as her eyes adjusted, Gretchen saw a set of round tables that had been pushed up against one wall, half of them turned upside down on top of the others. Neat stacks of chairs lined the adjacent wall.
“We can’t close it yet, not while our friends are still out there,” Jo protested. Gretchen and Gabby nodded their agreement. Kayleigh just sobbed.
“I just meant we should get ready, drag some of those tables over,” Howie explained.
“Good idea,” said Gretchen. “Someone needs to keep watch at the door.”
“I will,” Howie volunteered at once.
As she retreated from the door to let him take her place, Gretchen couldn’t help but roll her eyes. He had to be the strongest in the room, physically, yet he was happy to let the three women and a little girl do all the moving and lifting while he stood in the doorway and watched. That bothered her, but then, maybe he thought he was being noble by putting himself in closest proximity to the zombies. If they did break through the sanctuary, they’d get him first. A wry smile crossed her lips as she followed Jo and Gabby across the room to start pulling down tables.
“Hey Kayleigh, could you come help, please?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light, as she struggled to tip one of the tables without dropping it on her feet. They were bulky, hard to maneuver.
Reluctantly, Kayleigh dragged herself off the floor. She helped Gretchen wrangle down the overturned table, while Jo and Gabby slid another one over to Howie. “Once we close the door, we’ll stack these on top of each other, just like they were over there, and we’ll pile chairs on top of the upside down table, to add some weight,” Howie said. “Even if they manage to break down the door, they’ll still have quite a barrier to get over – they’re not too coordinated, are they? And the clatter it’ll make will be enough to alert us.”
Gretchen nodded. “Sounds good.” Some of her annoyance with him subsided; what he lacked in manpower, he made up for in logic, and she valued logical thinking.
She paused at the door to listen. Across the hall, the gunshots were becoming fewer and further between. That meant one of two possibilities: either they were running out of zombies to shoot, or running out of shooters to take down the zombies. She caught Howie’s eye, and the look that passed between them told her he was wondering the same thing she was.
“I’m going to check on them,” she blurted. The last thing she wanted to do was go back into that sanctuary, but she thought of Brian and the others, armed but outnumbered, and knew she could not just stand by and hope they made it out. There were more firearms in the foyer, for those on guard duty, and she snatched up one of the rifles, the kind of gun Kevin had trained her and Brian to shoot the day after they’d arrived. Checking quickly to make sure it was loaded and the safety turned off, she held it out in front of her as she crept towards the sanctuary.
The doors had fallen closed behind those who had escaped. Through the narrow glass panels inlaid in each of the doors, she could see movement, but it was too dark inside the sanctuary to tell what was going on. The solitary altar candle had been extinguished; the only glimmer of light came from the sliver of moon outside. It took all of Gretchen’s courage to reach out, take hold of one of the door handles, and pull it open.
Catching the door with her foot, she pointed the gun straight ahead and squinted into the darkness…
“Don’t shoot!”
The shock of hearing a voice right in front of her almost caused Gretchen to pull the trigger out of reflex. “Nick?! Jesus… you about gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry… it’s okay now. I think we got them all.” She heard Spunky whine and could just make out the retriever’s shape circling Nick’s legs.
“Found it!” Gretchen recognized Brian’s voice, and a second later, a circle of light shone off to one side of the room. Brian’s face appeared like an apparition, floating in the golden ring of light made by the flashlight he held below his chin.
“Quit goofing off and give us some light,” snapped Kevin. “Let’s make sure before we let our guard down.”
Brian quickly obliged, shining the flashlight in a slow circle around the sanctuary. As Gretchen’s eyes adjusted, they made out the forms of Kevin, AJ, and Riley, standing in various spots around the sanctuary, their weapons still in hand. In the faint light, they were able to find the other flashlights, and soon five more halos of light joined Brian’s. Kevin found the wall switch for the overhead lights, and as they came up slowly, the six of them circled the sanctuary, flashlights in one hand, guns in the other, checking and double-checking corners and rows for any undead stragglers. Spunky walked in front of Nick with her nose to the floor, sniffing everything. She growled, still unsettled, but did not bark.
When, at last, they determined that the sanctuary was clear, Kevin said, “We need to move all of our stuff into the multipurpose room, quickly. Just because we’ve taken out the first wave doesn’t mean there won’t be more. The noise may have attracted them. It’s not safe.”
Gretchen followed his eyes to what had once been the spectacular stained glass window behind the altar. Now it was merely a gap in the wall that ran from floor to ceiling, only a few jagged panes of glass still dangling from the top of the window frame. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to repair, and she wondered vaguely why no one had recognized this as a potential problem before.
“I’ll go get the others,” she said. “It’ll go faster if we all help.”
She walked back across the hall to the multipurpose room. “It’s just me,” she announced. “It looks like everyone is okay – and they killed all the zombies… for now. There may be more, though, so we’re going to move everything from the sanctuary into here. It’s not safe to stay there anymore, with the window broken.”
Jo joined her at once to help with the transfer of supplies, and Gabby followed. Warily, Howie and Kayleigh joined them at last. It didn’t take long for the ten of them to gather up all of their blankets and sleeping bags, clothing, flashlights and candles, and weapons and carry them into the multipurpose room.
“Now we just need to block off the sanctuary,” said Kevin. “We can’t risk them getting in again while we sleep. Jo, would you show a couple of guys where we left the extra lumber we used to board up the windows and doors? If it’s not enough, we’ll have to rip out some of the pews and use that wood.”
“Sure.” AJ and Brian went with Jo and returned a few minutes later with armloads of wooden boards. Meanwhile, Kevin had found the supply of nails, along with a couple of hammers. He and Brian set to work nailing boards across the sanctuary’s closed doors. They worked quickly, hardly speaking. AJ carried his gun back to the entryway of the church and sat just inside the doorway, out of the rain.
Inside the multipurpose room, Gretchen and Jo sat down to reorganize their pile of supplies, while Riley, Kayleigh, and Howie spread out their bedding on the floor. Gretchen suddenly heard Riley ask, “Nick, what’s wrong?” She turned to look in Nick’s direction. He was sitting apart from the others, holding his arm. Spunky lay next to him, her head in his lap.
Gretchen was immediately concerned, too, as it wasn’t like Nick to be so quiet and removed from the action. “Are you okay?” she asked, joining Riley at his side. “What happened to your arm?”
“Oh, it’s… it’s nothing. Just a little cut.”
Hearing the word “cut,” Jo came over immediately and knelt down on his other side. “Let me see,” she pried gently, and with some reluctance, he lifted his hand.
Jo kept a composed face, but Gretchen gasped aloud at the “little cut” that appeared when Nick pulled back his bloody hand. The “little cut” was actually a deep gash in his forearm, and without his hand to cover it, it bled freely. Jo nudged Riley and her aside and moved in front of Nick, looking him full-on in the face. “Nick… were you bitten?” she asked, her voice hushed and grave. It was the kind of voice used just outside the room of someone who was deathly ill, and it sent chills down Gretchen’s spine. She exchanged a glance with Riley, who looked paler than usual under the fluorescent lighting. From Jo’s reaction, they could both infer what happened to those who were bitten by the undead.
“No,” answered Nick, and Gretchen felt herself sag with relief. “It’s just from the glass, I think. I was sleeping on the altar; I got friggin’ showered with it.”
“Are you sure?”
Nick’s expression twisted with annoyance. “Of course I’m sure; I’d know if a fucking zombie bit my arm!”
“Alright…” Jo held up her hands in defense. “I’m just making sure.”
“It’s all good.” But it wasn’t all good, not for Nick, at least. Further examination revealed other cuts, tears and dark circles on his t-shirt, where the wounds had bled through. His arms were the worst, for apparently he had awoken in the midst of the crash and raised his arms to shield his face, but there were even bits of glass in his hair.
“Take off your shirt,” advised Jo. “And Gretchen, I’m going to need some tweezers and something to disinfect them with, if you can find it.”
Gretchen rummaged through the hodgepodge of gear that had been moved from the other room and dumped into a heap, but she couldn’t find anything resembling medical supplies. She went into the foyer to ask Kevin. “Do you know if there’s a first aid kit or anything around here?”
“Try the kitchen.”
Carrying a flashlight, Gretchen searched the kitchen and eventually found an old first aid kit in one of the cabinets. She carried the whole box back to the multipurpose room and sat down next to Jo to pick through it. “Not much here,” she observed, frowning. “There’s a few antiseptic wipes, but no rubbing alcohol or anything. And no tweezers.”
“I should have a pair of tweezers in my purse.” Jo raised her voice and called, “Gabrielle? Bring my purse over here, please!” To Gretchen, she added, “Save the antiseptic wipes; I can use a lighter to sterilize them.”
“You’re so prepared,” smiled Gretchen, as Gabby came over with her purse and one of the candle lighters. “Comes with the territory of being a nurse, huh? Like how I almost always have Kleenex and Band-aids with me, for little snotty noses and picked scabs.”
Jo returned her smile as she opened up her large handbag. “That, and just being a mom. You learn to have things on hand when you have your own little scabby, snotty-nosed angels running around.”
Gretchen forced herself to chuckle, but she felt a twinge deep down inside her, in a place that was hollow and empty. Inconspicuously, she put her hand on her stomach.
Jo found the tweezers, and Gretchen held the lighter while she sterilized their tips in the hot flame. Riley held Nick’s hand as Jo set to work picking out the shards of glass, one by one. Gretchen had to turn away, though she cringed every time she heard one of the tiny glass pieces plinking into the bowl they had set out. Even Howie looked pale, as he watched from a distance.
Kayleigh was already curled in the fetal position on her blanket in a corner of the room, her back to everyone else. After awhile, Gretchen thought she had managed to drift back to sleep, but she had not. When at last Jo had cleaned and dressed Nick’s cuts, and the cousins had finished boarding up the sanctuary doors, Kayleigh surprised everyone by sitting up and asking in a small voice, “Do you mind if we all sleep together tonight?”
They all looked at her. “We are together,” said Riley none-too-kindly, casting an obvious look around the big, open room.
“No, I meant… never mind.” Kayleigh closed her mouth, drew her knees up to her chest, and folded her arms around them. She buried her face in them like a small child, humiliated.
Nick shot Riley a look and then rolled his eyes in Kayleigh’s direction. But his tone was patient and polite when he asked, “No, go on, Kayleigh. You meant, like, sleep close together, instead of spread out like we had been?”
Kayleigh nodded without lifting her head. She was such a drama queen, like some of the nine-year-old girls Gretchen had taught. It was hard to feel sorry for her when she started acting like that, but nonetheless, most of the others liked the idea. They all felt a little shaken, after waking up to an ambush by the undead. Even Howie, at odds with so many, dragged his blanket over to the rest of the group.
AJ remained outside, insisting that he was still up for overnight guard duty alone, but the rest of them lay down in a sort of square, five going lengthwise, the other four stretched out sideways in two rows at their heads, with Spunky curled at Nick’s feet. Gretchen felt like a gingerbread cookie on a sheet. The closeness made the human sounds she usually hated that much louder, but on that night, they brought her comfort.
She fell asleep to Nick’s snores and did not awake to Gabby’s screams. The rest of the night was quiet.
