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Chapter 56


It’s tough being the oldest person on the planet.

I’m kidding, of course, but then, am I really? As far as I know, I AM the oldest one on the planet. At 45. That’s depressing.

The others treat me like the oldest person on the planet too, like I’m their mother. I suppose I don’t mind, but as much as I love my daughter, I was never really the stay-at-home mom type, and here, that’s exactly what I’ve become. I clean the chapel. I “cook” the meals – if you can call it that. I’m in charge of the household chores, while the others – the younger, stronger, braver ones – guard the church and go out around the base and shoot zombies. I’m not sure why I’m complaining – do I really want to go zombie-hunting? No.

I suppose I just miss feeling useful. I miss being needed for the skills I have that not everyone does. Don’t get me wrong – emptying bedpans and holding hands aren’t rocket science, but taking blood pressures, starting IVs… those are jobs not everyone knows how to do. Of course, I’m glad we haven’t needed those kinds of skills around here; I’m glad that Nick’s seizure was just a seizure and not the virus, and I’m glad we haven’t had any injuries worse than minor cuts. At the end of the day, I suppose what I’m saying is that I miss my old life. And isn’t that the same thing everyone’s writing about in these journals?

Of course they are. They all miss their old lives. They all miss their families. They all miss their mothers. And if I can even partially fill that void for them, I should be glad to do so. But that still won’t fill the void in my life…



Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Week Three

Of the ten survivors bunkered in the MacDill Air Force base chapel, Jo had been out the least. For the last three weeks, she had spent almost all of her time at the church, cleaning, organizing, fortifying, and guarding the place. She’d gone out for one tour of the base – more of a zombie reconnaissance mission than anything – and one shooting lesson, and that was it.

She knew that her place was inside the chapel, that she could be of most use there, sort of a caretaker for the men and young women and girls, but she was running out of things to do. The others viewed her as the “old lady” among them, she knew, though she was five years shy of fifty. Still, forty-five made her almost a decade older than Kevin, and even she had to admit that she looked old compared to the other women, none of whom were past thirty. It didn’t help that she’d put on weight in the past year, after Luis had died, and what had once been a few coarse, stray grays seemed to be growing exponentially these days, contrasting sharply and obviously with her natural, jet black hair. She didn’t feel old, though, and she was glad for the opportunity to prove it to the others.

Finally, a mission for her: They needed more medical supplies, and everyone had agreed that Jo should be the one to get them. Along with basic first aid supplies, such as gauze and bandages and antiseptic, she would be able to search for medicine for Nick. Though he hadn’t had another seizure in the week since the last one, Jo worried he wasn’t out of the woods yet. The seizure wasn’t an isolated incident; it wasn’t his first, and she doubted it would be his last. Nick didn’t want to be a liability, but as long as there was the chance of him collapsing into convulsions at any given time, she could understand why Kevin was hesitant to send him out into battle with the undead.

Their leader had chosen his cousin, Brian, to accompany Jo instead. They studied a map of the base together, as they planned their route. “The base medical center is here,” said Brian, pointing to a spot southeast of the chapel, off Bayshore Boulevard, “near the basketball and tennis courts.”

“Tennis courts?” Gabby popped up, looking over Jo’s shoulder. “I wanna go play tennis.”

“Out of the question,” Jo dismissed immediately, “as long as those creatures are roaming around.”

“But I bet the tennis courts are fenced in. They won’t be able to get in,” Gabby countered. “Someone else can go with me; we’ll take guns, just in case. Want to, Nick? We could bring Spunky, too!”

Nick looked up, arching an eyebrow. “I’d rather play basketball…” he said slowly, a smile spreading across his face.

Gabby shrugged. “Okay. I’ll play anything, just to get out of this place for a change. I’m sick of being here!”

“My thoughts exactly, kid.” Nick stood up, stretching his arms over his head, arching his back. Jo watched him, imagining him alone with her daughter, imagining him collapsing in the sweltering heat, imagining Gabby being left to defend herself and take care of him on her own…

She shook her head. “You’re not going anywhere. Not yet. Not until the base is safe.”

“But Mom!” Gabby whined. “Come on! You let me go with Kevin to practice shooting. Why can’t I go this time?”

Jo didn’t answer at first, and when Nick caught her eye, she looked away. She knew he knew what she was thinking, and she was embarrassed, but that didn’t change her thoughts. Her fears. “I just don’t like the idea of you out in the open like that. If they can break through a stained-glass window, I’m sure they can get past a chain-length fence,” she replied finally.

“Fine then, can we go to the library? It’s right… there,” she said, jabbing her finger into a spot on the map. “It’s not far from here, see? And we’ll be inside, at least.”

“No one’s gone to clear out the library yet,” spoke up Brian. “It could be crawling with zombies on the inside, and think of all the opportunities they’d have to sneak up on you there.”

Jo shuddered at the thought and quickly shook her head. “Brian’s right, Gabby. The answer is no.”

“Well, can’t we at least go clear it out then? I bet Kevin will go with us. Or Riley. We can clear it out and then get some books to bring back and read!” Her brown eyes danced with enthusiasm over this latest idea. Jo hated to say no, but she shook her head again. Gabby’s face quickly crumpled and contorted with anger. “But there’s nothing to do around here! I’m bored! And you won’t let me do anything! God!”

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Jo said tiredly, as Gabby stormed off.

Brian looked away.

Jo sighed. “At least she’s acting like her old self again.”

For the second time in a year, she had watched Gabby go through the stages of grief. It was the same as it had been after the robbery. At first, Gabby had been unusually clingy, more like a scared little girl than the independent teenager she was becoming. Then she’d gone quiet, barely speaking, barely eating, an empty shell of her former self. After the depression had come some semblance of acceptance, during which Gabby had been pleasant and helpful, working around the chapel, wanting to learn to shoot and fight the living dead. But now she was spiraling back towards anger, as boredom and cabin fever set in. This moody, short-tempered teenager was the one Jo had been dealing with for most of the last year.

She couldn’t blame her, though; it was happening to all of them. Tempers flared, and tension rose, as they spent most of their time cramped in such close living quarters, going out only to fight the neverending battle against the zombies. Their goal was to eventually clear the base, so that they could live there in safety and peace, but the effort seemed futile. There were just so many of them, so many bodies of men and women and children that had died on the base and reanimated. It seemed they would never be able to kill them all.

Still, they had to try. While Brian sorted through the guns, arming himself with a rifle and a handgun, choosing a more manageable pistol for her, Jo slipped a rosary around her neck. It wasn’t her own rosary, the one she’d inherited from her grandmother, the one she’d intended to pass on to her own grandchild someday, the way Gabby had received her mother’s for her first Communion. That rosary was still tucked away in her night table drawer, along with her Bible. When she’d picked up Gabby and driven her here, she hadn’t considered the possibility that they would never go home again. If she had, she would have taken the time to go back and gather those precious heirlooms, their family photos, Luis’s wedding band – all the sentimental things that really mattered to her.

But she hadn’t, and so this rosary, along with the military garb she wore, was borrowed. She’d found it in the chapel, in one of the offices, and assumed the owner had passed, perhaps was one of the zombies still roaming around outside. She wore the rosary as a talisman against them, a symbol of the Lord’s protection. The weight of the wooden beads around her neck made Jo feel safer, braver.

She slung a bag over her shoulder, to carry the medical supplies, before she and Brian left the church. The day was clear and sunny, which would make zombie visibility good, and for that, Jo was grateful. Though she felt uneasy, being outside the relative safety of the chapel, the fresh air and sun was a welcomed relief after spending most of her time inside the dim, stuffy rooms of the church.

Brian didn’t stop to relish in it. He moved like a cat towards the Hummer, slightly crouched, his eyes constantly flicking right and left, his gun drawn to his chest. Jo followed, staying right on his heels, looking around behind her. Her heart raced inside her chest; she was dreading the shock of spotting a zombie, and she knew it would come at any moment.

They were halfway to the Hummer when she heard the moan that made her heart leap into her throat, though she’d tried to prepare herself for it. She turned to see two zombies staggering toward them. One was a man in a dirt-streaked uniform, the other a woman in a stained t-shirt and pajama pants. Their glazed eyes bulged from their mottled, gray faces; their arms stretched stiffly in front of them, reaching towards their prey.

Jo jumped backwards, flinching involuntarily as a shot rang out. The blank expression on the man’s face didn’t change as Brian’s bullet grazed his cheek, tearing off a chunk of flesh. Jo could see part of the zygomatic bone protruding from the blackened wound, but there was no gush of blood. The zombie continued toward them, oblivious, and even when Brian fired a second shot that took him down, the female zombie lurched forward, unaware, uncaring that she was about to meet the same end.

This time Jo raised her own gun and fired first, but her shot missed. Before she could panic, she saw the barrel of Brian’s gun rise out of the corner of her eye. He took aim, fired, and the second zombie collapsed.

Jo released her breath, her whole body shaking. “Thank heavens one of us is a good shot,” she managed to say, chuckling nervously.

Brian barely smiled. “You’ll learn,” he said. “I haven’t had much practice. It’s just a matter of hand-eye coordination. C’mon.” He jogged off towards the Hummer, and she followed.

The interior of the Hummer was stifling, but when Brian got behind the wheel and started the engine, the air conditioning came on at full blast. It was hot air at first, but once they were driving down Bayshore Boulevard, it came out cool. Jo slid down lower in her seat, adjusting the vents so they were aimed towards her face, and closed her eyes, relishing the rush of cold air against her hot, sticky skin. Leaving the security of the chapel behind was worth it just for this temporary reprieve from the stagnant heat.

Her eyes flew open as she felt the Hummer swerve sharply, the momentum throwing her into the door. “Sorry,” Brian said, as Jo sat up straighter, struggling to right herself in her seat. “I can’t quite bring myself to run them down.” Jo looked into her side mirror and saw a cluster of zombies meandering down the middle of the street behind them.

“It would be easier than shooting them,” she murmured.

“You’re right,” he allowed. “I guess… I guess it’s like the difference between hunting animals for food and hunting them for sport. So far I’ve only killed out of necessity, out of self-defense. I’d like to keep it that way.”

Jo nodded, studying his profile, for he stared straight ahead as he spoke. Brian was difficult to read. He appeared hardened, with a strength much greater than his slight build attested to, but she had the sense that, deep down, he was a gentle soul. This seemed to confirm it. He was doing what he had to do to survive, but he hated himself for it. She could understand that, much more than she could relate to someone like AJ, who seemed to delight in killing the undead. Abominations though they now were, they had once been living human beings, and she could not forget it.

She followed his gaze out the windshield, drawn to the sight of Tampa Bay, its waters sparkling blue beneath the cloudless sky. Normally, on a day like this, the bay would be dotted with boats, but its surface was hopelessly empty. Then Brian turned right, away from the bay, and she looked up to see the base medical center sprawling ahead of her. The parking lot was crawling with zombies, and she realized this was probably their epicenter. Most of them would have died here.

Brian’s jaw clenched as he navigated the hospital’s drive carefully, bypassing the parking lot completely and pulling right up to the entrance. The doors were mere feet away, but the zombies were already honing in on the Hummer, and Jo feared there would be more trapped inside the building. She suddenly wished Brian would just floor it and get them away from there, but she knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. They had to do this, for the sake of the group. She steeled herself, trying to summon up a courage she wasn’t sure she possessed.

“This is crazy,” Brian muttered. “What was Kevin thinking? We should have brought more people.”

“Do you want to go back?” Jo asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Brian shrugged. “We’re here. We might as well go for it.”

His recklessness scared her, but she nodded. “Alright…”

“We need to move, before they surround us. Stay close to me; we’ll cover each other. On three, okay?” He unbuckled his seatbelt, and she followed suit, reaching for the door handle. “One… two… three!” At once, they threw open their doors and jumped out. Brian slammed his door and ran around the front of the Hummer to join her. Together, they raced to the entrance of the medical center. The double doors were shattered, the sidewalk in front showered with broken glass. Jo tried to avoid stepping in it, as Brian pulled her inside.

It was dim inside the building. Only the emergency lights running along the walls were lit, providing faint halos of light among the shadows. It wasn’t hard to see, but it wouldn’t be hard for zombies to lurk, unseen, in dark corners, either. Jo looked around warily, keeping close to Brian’s side.

The infirmary was in disarray. The admissions desk was heaped with piles of paperwork, which had spilled onto the floor. Further down one of the halls, Jo could see overturned gurneys and IV stands. Everywhere she looked, the tile was littered with latex gloves and surgical gowns and masks. The whole place looked the way a trauma room did after the medical staff left it and before the housekeeping staff arrived to clean it up. But the mess wasn’t nearly as eerie as the emptiness. Jo felt a strong sense of déjà vu, remembering the last few hours she’d spent in the emergency room at Tampa General, after the last of the patients and staff had succumbed to the virus. This hospital looked different, but felt just the same.

The silence was broken by a hungry moan and the sound of shuffling feet, and Jo turned to see the first zombies shambling through the shattered entrance. Her first instinct was to run, but even as she started to back up, she saw the barrel of Brian’s rifle rise up beside her. She jumped at the first blast, but was relieved to see one zombie fall. It took only a few more shots to take down the second and then the third. But there were more behind them. They swarmed around the doors, bumping into each other in their efforts to squeeze through the doorway. The first ones that managed to do this tripped stupidly over the three bodies lying just inside the threshold and ended up writhing on the floor themselves.

Taking advantage of this obstacle, Brian didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, aimed his rifle towards the ground, and put a bullet into each of their brains before they could get up again. Realizing the brilliance of his plan, Jo pulled out her own gun to help. She flinched each time she pulled the trigger, but was relieved whenever one of her bullets added to the rapidly-expanding heap of bodies that was now partially barricading the doors. And still, the zombies kept coming, oblivious to what was happening. They tried to climb up and over the dead, but Brian and Jo took each one down, adding to the pile. At last, the doorway was blocked.

“I don’t think they’ve got the sense to start dragging bodies out of the way,” said Brian, sounding satisfied. “This should buy us some time.”

But no sooner had he said it than they heard another moan echoing down one of the corridors. “There’s more inside,” whispered Jo, her fears confirmed. “All the noise probably attracted them.”

Brian looked around. “We need another barrier, until we can take down the rest of them.”

“This way,” said Jo, leading him further into the hospital. Her eyes lit up when she spotted what she’d been looking for. “There – the nurses station.”

It was a circular hub of counters, perfect for standing behind to shoot. It would not enough to protect them indefinitely, but unless the zombie suddenly gained the coordination to climb over counters, the barrier would slow them up long enough to be killed. “Good thinking,” said Brian, and they ducked behind it, just as more zombies began to emerge from the shadows of the interior hallways.

Jo and Brian positioned themselves on opposite sides of the nurses station, their backs to each other, and started firing. Jo missed more of her shots than she made, but it didn’t matter: after a ten-minute siege, the floor around them was littered with bodies, congealed blood and decomposing brains oozing from their head wounds.

Jo sagged against the counter, clutching at her rosary. Her fingers trembled as the smooth beads slipped through them; she was shaking from head to foot. Even her lungs seemed to be quivering, as she panted in and out in rapid, shallow breaths.

“You alright?” Brian asked quietly, looking back at her in mild concern.

Jo nodded, rubbing her beads. Slow, deep breaths, she told herself, the same advice she had given patients. Her heart was racing in her chest. She felt like she always did after a particularly intense trauma, when the patient had been either stabilized or pronounced, and she was finally coming down from her adrenaline high. Looking around at all the corpses, she didn't know whether to congratulate herself or cry. “Is this a sin?” she murmured, squeezing the rosary, “what we've done here? Thou shalt not kill... Do you think this counts?”

“What does it matter?” muttered Brian in reply, avoiding her eyes. “We did what we had to do. Sinners or not, we’re damned either way.”

The bitter coldness in his voice sent a chill down her spine. She looked sadly at the body of a woman, dressed in a pair of scrubs, lying facedown on the tile. “Do you think they have any idea what they've become? Are their souls in Heaven, watching their bodies roam the Earth?”

Brian took a moment to answer, but when he did, he shook his head. “I don't think so.”

He didn't elaborate, and she didn't ask what he did think. Her heart had slowed, her breathing had relaxed, but now that the rush of adrenaline had left her, she felt depressed. “Let's go,” she said quietly. “Let's get what we need and leave this place.”

The stench of decay was stronger on the other side of the counter. Brian wrinkled his nose, but Jo, used to worse, stepped quite calmly over the corpses. “We need to find the supply room,” she said. “And the pharmacy.” Now it was her turn to lead.

Though she’d never worked in this hospital, her surroundings felt familiar, and it didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. In a long, narrow room lined with shelves, she packed her bag with extra gauze pads, sterile dressings and bandages, bottles of antiseptic, bags of saline, latex gloves, a couple of suturing kits, and a set of surgical tools.

“You think we'll need all that?” asked Brian, eying the scalpels and syringes.

“I hope not,” replied Jo, “but if we do, at least we'll be prepared.”

They found their way to the pharmacy next, picking off a few undead stragglers along the way. Jo inched along the shelves, shining a flashlight across rows of pill bottles, checking labels, and filling the remaining space in her bag with painkillers, antibiotics, and a few bottles of Dilantin. “For Nick,” she said, hearing the pills rattle around inside as she handed one of the bottles to Brian. “It’s an anti-seizure drug. Hopefully it will help.”

“Hopefully,” he echoed, adding it to their stash.

“That should do us for awhile. Now we just need to find a way out of here.” She remembered the heap of bodies barricading the front doors and imagined the mob of zombies waiting on the other side of it, blocking the path to the Hummer. “How are we going to get back to the car?”

Brian’s expression was grim. “Good question. Let’s see how many are out there.”

At the front of the hospital, they found a waiting area off the main lobby which had windows. Some of the chairs were overturned, the window blinds dangling lopsidedly, and Jo couldn’t help but whether the would-be patients had destroyed the place before or after they turned to zombies. Brian went to one of the windows and peeked out. Jo followed, peering over his shoulder. Just as she had feared, there was still a sizable herd of zombies clustered around the main entrance, trying to claw their way through the pile of their fallen comrades. On the other side of them was the Hummer.

“What now?” whispered Jo, a heavy sense of dread dropping into the pit of her stomach.

“Maybe we can create a diversion,” Brian whispered back, as if the zombies would hear their plans if he spoke any louder. “They seem pretty distractible. If I run, I bet they’ll all go after me. Then you could run to the Hummer.”

“What about you? Where will you run?”

Brian took his time answering, scoping out the view from all the windows first. Finally, he pointed out the last window and replied, “There. See where those ambulances are parked? With any luck, one of them will be unlocked. If I’m really lucky, it’ll have keys. But if not, I’ll circle back to the Hummer, and you can pick me up. They’re not that fast – I can outrun them.”

“Are you sure?” Jo hated the idea of him putting himself in danger for her.

“Have you seen how slow they are?” Brian’s face split into a grin, a genuine grin this time. He had a great smile, the kind that lit up his whole face. “Sure, I’m sure.”

“Okay…” Reluctantly, Jo agreed.

Brian opened the last window, the one closest to the ambulances. He punched out the screen, kicked one leg over the window sill before easing the rest of his body over, and dropped easily to the landscaping below. “Close the window,” he whispered behind him, as he straightened up. “They’ll be coming. Wait till they’re gone, and then make a run for the Hummer.”

Jo nodded. “I’ll come get you,” she promised, and then she closed the window. Through the glass, she saw Brian take off, waving his hands over his head. As she moved back to the first window, she could hear his muffled shouting, as he tried to get the zombies’ attention. She peeked through the blinds in the first window and watched as the whole mob shambled off after him, moving away from the Hummer and towards the ambulances.

She waited until they were a safe distance away, and then she opened the window in front of her. She had already decided she didn’t feel like crawling over a pile of dead zombies to get back outside. She removed the window screen, as Brian had done, and hoisted herself over the window sill, not quite as skillfully as Brian had. As soon as her feet touched the ground, though, she was running, making a beeline for the Hummer, her back of supplies bouncing on her shoulder.

She scrambled up and into the big vehicle, nearly slamming the door on her foot in her haste to shut herself in. But there was no need to hurry; Brian’s plan had worked perfectly. The zombies were still following him across the parking lot, oblivious to her escape. But not for long. She crammed the key into the ignition and revved the Hummer to life.

She expected Brian to turn and run back towards her so she could pick him up, but as she pulled out of the drive and into the parking lot, she saw that he was still heading for the ambulances. She watched as he disappeared around one, and then, to her surprise, he appeared inside the cab. She could see him fumbling around, searching for keys, as the zombies closed in on him.

What are you doing? she thought, driving closer, wondering how he was going to get out of the ambulance and into the Hummer if both were surrounded by zombies. Forget it; let’s go!

Then, suddenly, the ambulance sprang to life. The lights started going, and then the sirens, and from inside the cab, she saw Brian give a whoop and pump his fist into the air. He backed the ambulance out of its parking space, running over a couple of zombies who had followed him around behind it, and pulled it up alongside the Hummer. “Follow me!” he shouted through his open window, and she nodded and gave a thumbs up to show she understood.

He cut the lights and siren once he pulled out of the parking lot, and she followed in the Hummer, leaving the zombies in their dust as they raced back towards the chapel.

***

“This is amazing!” exclaimed Kevin later, emerging from the back of the ambulance.

Jo couldn’t help but smile at this rare burst of excitement; she’d learned quickly that Kevin was a man who kept his emotions in check. But she couldn’t contain her enthusiasm either. “I know! It has a backboard, a defibrillator, oxygen tanks, monitors… anything we could possibly need in a medical emergency, God forbid. I hope we’ll never need any of it, but if nothing else, it will be good for carrying supplies.”

“And taking down zombies,” added Brian, looking pleased with himself for once. He’d had a boyish grin on his face ever since returning from their little adventure with his new toy.

Nick had been jealous at first, but perked up once Jo showed him the bottles of Dilantin. “If I take this stuff, can I have the keys to the ambulance? Please, Dad, pleeeeease?” he joked with Kevin, with a grin to match Brian’s.

“Maybe if we run the siren and lights, we can get all the zombies to follow it and lead them straight through the front gate, like the Pied Piper,” Gabby suggested, and Nick immediately latched onto the idea.

“Yeah! I can do that! That’s awesome! Too bad we can’t make it play ‘Thriller’ instead…”

“You and your ‘Thriller’…” Riley rolled her eyes, grinning in Nick’s direction. “You can make it play ‘Thriller,’ doofus; just stick it in the CD player and roll down the windows.”

“Ooh, yeah! You’re a genius, Rye; what would I do without you?”

“Come on, y’all; let’s get back inside,” said Kevin. His rare smile had vanished, and he was looking around uneasily. “Nick’s voice alone is loud enough to lead them right to us.”

“But that’s perfect – I’ll do it right now! Give me the keys, bro!” Nick held out his hand to Brian, but Kevin grabbed his shoulder and steered him back toward the chapel doors.

“Not right now. Take some of that stuff Jo brought you and see how it works. Then we’ll see.” As Nick followed the others back into the church, sulking, Kevin turned to Jo. “Thanks,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder as he walked her inside. “All the stuff you and Brian brought back will be great to have, just in case. We’re lucky we’ve got you with us.”

Jo smiled. Brian was the hero of the day, taking out as many zombies as he had, creating the diversion, and bringing back the ambulance. But she was proud of herself for the part she’d played in their mission. She had been an asset, not a liability. For the first time since she and Gabby had arrived on the base, Jo felt as if she’d proven herself.

***