Why didn’t I listen to him? He was a goddamn genius.
Don’t get me wrong, I got nothing against blue-collar workers or the job I ended up with in the Navy. Someone’s gotta keep the fires on a ship lit. Gotta keep that engine turning. I just wanted to do something different, like get into journalism, but that required money. I joined the Navy so I could see the world, fuck a lot of girls, and then have my college paid for.
I got one of those wishes.
One wish I didn’t make was for my very own Marine Sergeant Joel “Cruze” Kelly. One night I asked Joel what the “Cruze” was all about. He smiled and deflected the question. Jerk. I kept bugging him about it, because what the hell else did we have to talk about? I asked if it was some kind of Marine secret handshake. After a few minutes of my good-natured ribbing, he finally told me it was something his Mom had called him as a kid and it just stuck around. I didn’t bother him about it after that.
My own mother didn’t have an opinion either way about me joining up. On one hand, I’m sure she didn’t want her youngest son leaving the house. On the other hand, it was probably a relief. My three older bothers weren’t amounting to much and continued to mooch off our folks while I had dreams of going to college. Money I wasn’t going to make working at Burger King.
I was going to join the Army, like Dad, but then I watched some videos of boot camp and decided a ship would be a much more interesting place to hang out instead of in the sand while some asshole shot at me.
Joel did not have a similar story. His dad was in the Marines, and his dad’s dad was in the Corps, so that meant that Joel Kelly was destined to hold an assault rifle and shoot at people. Hoo-ah — oh yeah, they don’t say that in the Marines anymore. If Joel reminded me of that one more time I was going to strangle him with his own gun strap.
Roz didn’t tell us much more of her story but she listened to us talk about our pasts and asked questions when it seemed like there was a break in the flow. She said it would be a way for all of us to break the ice and get to know each other. Now that we had a couple of kids with us, I guess it made sense.
I know it sounds like I’m planning for the future, but I’m not really. When you get right down to it, our life expectancy is next to nil. When you really think about what we are facing, you’ll understand that it’s not a good idea to make long term plans.
Especially now.
Especially. Now!
15:45 hours approximate
Location: Undead Central, San Diego CA — Roz’s Place
Joel snoozed in my chair for an hour. I took the time to eat and drink as much as my gut could handle.
It was glorious.
Roz was busy pacing the living room. She walked to the front door and then back to the windows that faced the yard. I took the opportunity to check out her ass in a pair of grey sweat pants that seemed molded to her body. I’m glad she didn’t catch me. I’m pretty sure she’d have no issue with sticking her shotgun up my ass. Roz peeked out every few minutes. After a while she must have made up her mind to do whatever she needed to do, because she woke Joel up and asked for cover.
Joel popped up like a Marine Jack-in-the-Box, snapped up his assault rifle, and did a quick ammo check. He nodded at Roz and followed her to the door.
“What’s she doing?” I asked Joel.
“Her father.”
“Oh,” I said, and lost whatever little bit of a good mood I’d had a few minutes ago. No kid should have to bury their own parent.
“Should I help?”
“I don’t think so. She looks determined to do it herself. Why don’t you keep watch out the back.”
Roz went into the open garage and dragged out an old carpet. She took the piece to her Dad’s body and rolled him onto it. Smart. That way she could drag him easier, and it also created a sort of burial cover.
I went to the back of the house and peeked through a window. This was Roz’s room and we’d been forbidden from entering it. I had a feeling she wouldn’t mind since we were protecting her.
She wasn’t the neatest girl. There were clothes in piles all around the room. Shirts and dresses hung from a homemade wire rack that ran the length of the room. Dresses? That was the last thing I expected to see Roz in. After a few minutes it hit me. What else was she supposed to do with her clothes? There sure as hell wasn’t any way to wash them in our new world.
The back room’s windows were boarded up but a couple of spy holes offered me a limited view of the world outside the house. Dried up shrubs, a road littered with discarded crap. Broken furniture and empty suitcases. Someone’s sports jacket baked in the sun next to a pair of white broken white sunglasses. The only things missing were a few shamblers.
In salute to the dead world I lifted a plastic wrapper, tore it open, and munched on a protein bar. Then I sipped a bottle of water. The only thing that would make this better was an ice-cold beer, but the lone brew we’d saved from our beer-run a few days ago was probably in the coffers of whoever the fuck ransacked our place.
It was early but already hot inside the little brick house. It may be seventy five at the hottest out there, but once the place gets warm it stays that way.
Sound to the west. I was on the east-facing side of the house and couldn’t see a damn thing until the helicopter thundered overhead. It hovered for a few seconds over a building and then passed over the house. Did they see Roz? Did she signal to them? Were they going to come back and rescue us?
Over a week in this city and I was sick of being cut off. I was sick of living day to day, meal to meal. I wanted out of San Diego and I wanted to know, more than anything, what in the hell was happening in the good ol’ U S of A, because the way we were living could not be the new normal.
I pulled my handgun before I’d even had the chance to think about it. If I could just signal the chopper
I popped the magazine out of habit and checked the load. Full. I lined it up and then fumble fingered the mag. It hit the ground and bounced under Roz’s bed. I followed it and dropped to all fours to get it. I got a handful of panties and stockings and stared at them dumbly. I bet Roz would rock this stuff.
I carefully put the naughty clothes back, picked up the heavy magazine, and slammed it home.
The sound of the chopper was long gone. I stared up but they didn’t materialize again. Then I looked down.
“Oh. Fuck. Me.” I holstered my pistol.
A horde was headed our way. I don’t mean ten Z’s or fifty of the dead fuckers. It was even worse than the day we almost got stuck in Ty’s apartment when Joel’s little fuck up seemed to bring the whole city our way. Only speed and luck had saved our ass that time.
There had to be several thousands. Thousands!
“Uhh,” I said. Real smart, right?
I was so scared I considered just crapping my pants. Then Joel’s voice in my head told me to man up or he’d find an adult diaper and make me wear it. Here we were in a nice safe house where we could silently wait for them to pass us by, and Roz was out on the front yard. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation, no thought of leaving her out there.
I stared and tried to get a count but after a few seconds I dashed out of the room.
I ran at a gimpy pace on my twisted ankle through the hallway. I passed a room where the two kids, Christy and Craig, slept. I made it to the living room and almost crashed into the recliner I’d called home the night before.
“Joel!” I called as loudly as I dared.
He had the door propped open, one foot inside the threshold, the other on the porch. The assault rifle was slung across his chest with his finger poised right over the trigger. Joel wore his New York Fire Department ball cap backwards and the pilfered shades over his eyes.