I couldn’t help but stand there in the rain. I looked at Jason’s corpse.
I just didn’t want to leave him there. He deserved better. At the very least, to be buried.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Navigator wasn’t 4x4, but the tires and wheels were big. The engine was Lincoln-strong.
I used a hand to swipe away as much of Jason’s blood pooled on the leather before sitting down.
The engine started on the first try. The radio came on. Static. I took a moment and went through the preset channels. Nothing. Hit scan. Waited. It rolled through more channels without stopping once.
Allison blasted the heat on. Hot air smashed into my face. Felt good. My hands felt numb. I rubbed them together in front of the heater, and then switched on the wipers. It was time to get moving.
The Navigator was a smooth and elegant ride. Beat walking, being stuck in the elements. I pulled out of the parking spot, and in the mirror, saw Jason’s body.
It felt so wrong leaving him there. He deserved better. I stopped.
“What are you doing?” Allison spoke in a whisper.
“I can’t,” I said. My head hit the steering wheel. Eyes closed. “I just can’t.”
Allison’s hand rubbed my back.
We had garden tools as weapons. What more did we need. How long could it take? How much better would it make me feel?
“Chase?” she said.
I backed the SUV up, put it in park and climbed out, back into the cold rain. I heard another door open.
Josh and I looked down at the body.
“Bury him?” Josh said.
I nodded.
“Good call,” he said, and pulled open the rear door.
Together we lifted Jason’s body. I took under the arms at the shoulders. Josh had the legs. The kid wasn’t heavy. Light, but lifeless. We set him in back of the SUV. “Thank you,” I said.
This time, Josh nodded. “Where do you want to bury him?”
“I know the perfect place, actually.”
We got back into the SUV. I turned it around, headed in the opposite direction in the parking lot, to the exit on Maiden, and made a left. In silence, we drove past the police station, and made a left onto Pomona Dr., and a quick left into the ball field parking lot.
Up rights separated the outfield to two different softball diamonds. I checked the rear-view. Josh nodded in agreement.
Jason was not Hoffa, and this was far from a New York Giant’s end zone, but it seemed fitting. Appropriate.
The ground was wet. But not soft. The cold temperatures saw to that. Digging the grave was far more labor intensive than I expected. We all took turns. Allison spent the most time digging. Couldn’t get her out of the hole. She wanted to dig. Eventually, we stopped asking if she needed a break and let her work. Tirelessly, she drove the spade into the earth. The rain helped. About the only thing it was good for.
About three feet deep, she stopped. She leaned on my shovel. She was soaked. Despite the rain, I knew it was tears trekking down her face.
Dave held out his hand. Allison wiped wet, muddy hands onto her pants, took his and used it to step out of the grave.
Josh and I lifted Jason. We set him into the hole softly, carefully. I zipped up his hoody, placed his arms over his chest, the splinted hand close to his heart. That damn splinted wrist.
I knew someone needed to say something. I didn’t feel qualified, or worthy, even. Anything I thought to say sounded cheesy inside my own head. Sounded forced and unauthentic. “I wish we knew you better,” I said.
Everyone bowed their heads, hands clasped in front of them.
“I appreciate you checking out that stupid Navigator, Jason. I just wish it had been me that ran ahead. Not you.
“I’m sorry if it seemed like I gave you a hard time. Might only have been a short time together, but I can promise you, you will be missed. Remembered. I struggle with the idea of God. Right now, I pray I am wrong. That there is one. That there is a heaven and you are warm, and dry and happy, buddy. That’s what I pray.”
I waited. Maybe someone else wanted to add something. Seemed like a good five minutes passed, just the four of us standing around this obscurely dug shallow grave. The rain grim, determined to add misery to an already unrelenting few days.
When I was sure no one had anything else to add, I reached for the shovel from Allison. I stepped it into the pile of dirt we’d accumulated, and tossed it over Jason’s feet.
That’s when Allison broke down again. She didn’t hide the fact she was crying. Her lips, pulled down in a frown quivered, and her shoulders rose and deflated with each sob.
Josh put an arm around her, and led her away from the burying, back to the SUV. Dave stayed. His arms at his side. He was silent the whole time I spread the loose earth over Jason’s body.
Dave and I walked back to join the others.
I desperately wanted, needed a cigarette. I forget how long it’s been since my last one. I’d been too preoccupied to think about it. The urge intensified though, didn’t subside. I just didn’t have any. No idea when, or where I’d lost whatever had been left of my pack. Seemed trivial, but I had to get my hands on a pack. No question about it.
It was late.
As busy a day as it had been, we’d gotten off to a late start, and that hurt us. Everything we did kept me away from my kids. From finding them.
And, yet, I was determined to find a gas station store for a pack of smokes. It felt selfish.
I got into the SUV. I put it in drive.
We had nearly a full tank of gas. The heat felt amazing. We left the ball field, and were back on track.
“Notice we haven’t seen many zombies at all?” Josh sat forward, his head between Allison and me.
“It’s got to be the rain,” I said.
Josh’s head nodded up and down, like he was chewing that idea over inside his brain. “It’s possible. Be nice if they were just dying off.”
“I agree.” Allison raised her hand, like she was in school.
“It’s always possible.”
“Just not probable,” Josh added.
“I didn’t say that. But we don’t know. We don’t know much of anything.”
“No,” Josh said. “We absolutely don’t. Except one thing.”
“And what’s that?” I said.
“Your kids. We need to find them.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
When we were walking, it seemed like not many cars clogged the street. Like the roads were navigable. Truth is, they were rough. We were able to snake this way and that. We made good time. I took it easy climbing curbs and driving on the sidewalk, and lawns.
The whole time it rained, we did not see any zombies out and about. This gave me reason to smile. It meant my kids, as long as they were okay, would continue to be okay. Or should be, anyway.
It’s what I allowed myself to believe anyway, was something to hang onto, at least.
“This is the street,” I said. I wasn’t talking to anyone.
No one answered. The houses were big. Donald made a lot of money. My ex must have been drawn to that. Because the squirrelly bastard was creepy looking. Creepy as hell.
Allison had a hand on my forearm. Not sure how long it had been there. Was aware of it now, as she gave me a squeeze.
I maneuvered a self-made path down the street, around several askew abandoned vehicles. I slowed when I came upon his house, saw his Lexus was in the driveway, and her BMW, too.
I pulled in. Left the engine on.
“I’m going in alone,” I said. “Josh, sit up front. I want you ready to get us the hell out of here.”
“You’re not doing this alone,” Allison said. It was the way she said it. I sensed there was more to the words. Wasn’t just about me saving my kids. I think I knew what went through her head. Was hard even to let the thought flow. If my kids were dead, she didn’t want me to find them by myself.