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Authors: Lisa Biesiada

Least Likely To Survive (21 page)

BOOK: Least Likely To Survive
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I turned my attention back to Austin, and returned his smile in kind.  Jack obviously didn’t care if I flirted with the hottie commando.  “So, Austin, how did you end up here?”  I asked coyly, and tried to bat my eyes, although I suspected it probably looked like I was just trying to blink a piece of dust out.  I had never been good at flirting and it felt fucking ridiculous to even be attempting it.

“Well, I was stationed not far from here, and when word got out about the infection, they brought a lot of us here to prepare it for refuge.”  At this, I became instantly more attentive; he obviously knew more about the outbreak than I would have thought.  Which to me seemed more than a little strange that he would be so open about talking about it, but then again, maybe it didn’t really matter at this point?

I twisted my features into the most innocent look I could manage, so as to not let on with my real interest.  “Oh?  How interesting!” I said brightly as I thought about the best way to continue.  “This place is huge and you all have done a really great job organizing it; it must have taken quite a while...”  I trailed off with a smile I hoped came across as shy and innocent.

Austin shrugged his shoulders as he finished the bite of his sandwich he had just taken.  “Couple of months.  We weren’t really sure how much time we had to work with, so it was lucky we were mostly done when the outbreak really spread.”  He took another bite, signifying he wasn’t going to say anymore on the topic.

I sat back and processed his words, while eating my own lunch.  Months? They’ve known for
months
that this would likely happen and didn’t quarantine, or evacuate sooner?  How many millions of lives had been lost at this point, and the only ones that had survived so far had done it of our own accounts; not with the help of trained professionals?  It was as if they had just sailed a ship to the middle of the sea, and expected us to just know to swim out to it, and those who didn’t make it weren’t supposed to.  Suddenly I lost my appetite.

“So Angie,” Austin started.  “How did you end up all the way out here?”  He looked at me with interest, and I considered how much to divulge.

I shrugged and set my napkin down. “I don’t know.  I just got into the car and started driving, ya know?”  I looked down at my plate, and feigned sudden interest in my sandwich.  I didn’t know him well enough to really admit where I was headed, nor did I particularly want to recount how I ended up here in the first place.

Chloe chose that moment to pounce.  “So Austin,” she batted her eyelashes with that casual coyness that seemed to be only hers.  “How long have you been in the military?” 

“A couple of years.  Thought I’d be making a career of it, but none of that really matters anymore, I guess.”  He looked down, and I caught sight of his jaw clench, losing himself in the gloom of the present circumstance of the world.  I felt bad for him at that moment; here was a guy who had had his whole life in front of him, and a plan for it.  Now it was all lost, and I knew he was uncertain what he was supposed to do in the wake of the devastation.  Isn’t that always how it happens though?  While we are so busy making plans, we can only stand helpless when they crumble at the feet of the unexpected.

Our table fell silent after that statement; even Chloe caught Austin’s undertones and halted her flirtation.  I looked up, and caught Jack’s eye.  We didn’t need to voice the significance of what Austin had said, or how each of us was struggling with the same demons.  I half-smiled at him, and he returned my smile in kind.  It was ironic that it took the collapse of society for me to find a kindred spirit.

 

We finished our meal with little more than polite small talk, disposed of our trays and headed out to the roof.  As we stepped out into the glaring light of the mid-day Texas sun, I looked over the ledge and saw a row of high-powered rifles lined up like you would see at a carnival game.  I got closer and peered over the ledge, and was immediately floored at the sight of hundreds of zombies milling about in the parking lot below.  They were about a hundred yards out, but still the nearness of them was unsettling.  My stomach immediately lurched as the realization of the second part of our training today hit me.  We were using the infected as target practice. 

“Um, are we about to do what I think we are?”  I asked, knowing that I would despise the answer, but needing to hear it out loud nonetheless.

Austin turned back to us, nodded at me and addressed the group as a whole.  “Alright, now we are going to practice marksmanship.”  He turned and pointed at the crowd below, “There are the infected, and given the opportunity, they will kill you without a second thought, so it’s crucial you all put aside any misgivings you may have about killing them.”  He looked pointedly at me as he said this, and I knew he was directing that part at me.  He must have seen the disdain engulfing my face.  I couldn’t help it though; I knew he was right, but still the idea of just picking them off sickened me.  I could accept killing them when my life was threatened, but knowing that they were still people, and no immediate threat to me at the moment seemed somehow
wrong
.

I watched as the other members of our group, including the cute little kids, step forward and take their places at each of the rifles, stopping for further direction.  I almost threw up at the sight of those beautiful and innocent little girls holding onto those shiny black handles. It reminded me of the pictures we all were constantly faced with in our news feed online of children soldiers throughout Africa and the Middle East.  Wrong; this was all wrong, this whole fucking world was wrong, and I didn’t want any part of it. 

“Hey, I know.”  Jack’s soft words cut through my disgust, and I was pulled from my need to bolt.  He grabbed my chin and leaned down to whisper in my ear.  “
Don’t
, Angie.  Don’t run.  I know this is fucked up, hell, even I see it’s wrong, but what other choice do we have?”  I turned and looked into his eyes.  I searched his face for any sign of hesitancy, but found none.  The desperation and angst over having to accept this as our fate and our mission was clear in the way the light dimmed from his eyes, and that beautiful mouth crumbled into a frown. 

I couldn’t take it anymore.  This was some sick shit, and I couldn’t be a part of it.  Jack was wrong; we
did
have a choice, we always had a choice, and fucked if I was going to keep letting someone else make it for me.  As I stared into his broken expression, I felt all of my anger and rage bubble to the surface.  I nearly spit my words at him through narrowed eyes. “Fuck that, there is always a choice, and I’ve made mine.”  With that I yanked my chin from his hands and ran back across the patio, with Ty, Chloe, Jack, Austin and all the others staring after me in disbelief. 

In my haste, I didn’t miss Nancy’s comment on my departure.  “I guess some people aren’t strong enough to fight for survival.”

I ran through the restaurant, and out into the corridor.  Stopping to catch my breath, I looked around in my haste, trying to figure out where I should go.  Tears had started to sting my eyes and blur my vision, and reading the signs became somewhat impossible.  Who was she to judge me?  She didn’t know the first fucking thing about me, or what I had been through.  A part of me wanted to go back there and shove her off the roof and let the zombies have her.  But the sane part of me knew that was wrong, and argued we should go back and just knock a few of those horse teeth loose from her fake smile.

Making a left, I started to run blindly down the hall, not really sure where I was going, but needing to get away.  Finally I spotted an empty little concession stand off in a corner, and darted for it as fast as my flip flops would carry me.  I couldn’t be sure, but thought the sign read: ‘Bob’s Brats’, or something equally as ridiculous, but was too lost in my rage to really take notice. 

I hauled myself over the counter, Olympic hurdler style, and dove through the door in the back of the stand.  I almost ripped it from the hinges as I pulled it open and threw myself into the little storage closet.  Now that I was finally alone, I ran over to the far wall, and started to cry in earnest as I crumbled to a ball on the floor.  Sniffling and wailing; the events of the last few days all fell on me at the same time, and I wondered if there were even enough tears in the world to shed over the countless lives that had been destroyed by powers we allowed to rule our lives, and our world.

I sat there, holding my knees to my chest, just for something to anchor me to the floor as I wept and wept.  I didn’t remember a time when I had cried like that, and had to wonder if perhaps a lifetime of sucking it up had finally caught up to me. 

None of this was right, and certainly none of this was fair.  The picture in my head of that cute little girl with her pigtails, and purple and yellow floral sundress gripping that giant assault weapon had seriously pushed me over the edge.  This wasn’t my America; this surely can’t be what our parents and our ancestors had intended when they devised all the laws that were supposed to keep us safe, and all the sciences that were assumed to improve our lives, and us as a whole.  How could they have possibly known that for all our good intentions, we paved our own road of destruction?

My ribs ached from the strength of my sobs, and my head began to throb.  I was still crying so hard, I didn’t notice Jack come in and close the door silently behind him.  I didn’t notice him until I felt his arms wind their way around me, and he pulled me into his chest.  I let him pull me and rested my hot and tear stained cheek on his chest as I continued my sob fest. 


Shhh, Shhhh
, it’s going to be okay,” he said as he rocked me.

Sniffling and swallowing down another hiccup, his words just made me angrier.  “How
the fuck
do you know?!  Nothing is okay, and it will never be again!”

I felt him breathing as he tightened his grip around my back, and his fingers digging gently into skin.  I had to admit it was nice to be held, but I didn’t want him to touch me if he agreed with the rest of them.  I had to remember that in the end, it was still me alone, and everyone else stood on the other side of the line.  Although blurry, I knew I couldn’t just stand across those lines with the rest of the sheep in the world.  No, I would stand alone and support what was right, and what was decent, and all the other naïve and beautiful ideas that had long been lost to the world. 

How long had I been just another cog in the corporate wheel?  When was the last time I did or said or wore something not because I was told to, but because I
wanted
to?  When was the last time I stood for what I knew to be right and just, knowing that I would be cut down, but would go down righteous nonetheless?  Longer than I honestly wanted to admit.  Well not anymore.  No sir, this was the apocalypse, and I would be damned if I was going to stand around still blindly following the dirty and the dishonest as they led me into Hell.

I chose that moment to direct my anger at Jack, although I knew he didn’t really deserve it.  I pulled back, and glared all of my hate at that angelic face.  “This shit is
sick
, and I didn’t live through abusive, Heroin-riddled parents and their drug dealer buddies to lie down and fall in line.”  I let him see exactly how toxic the whole idea was to me.  I had tossed my glasses aside when I had sat down, so I couldn’t really see him all that clearly, but the change of his expression was clear enough.  I watched as his eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched in reaction to my words.  I knew the shock he felt at my admission, but didn’t give a shit.

“Fuck, Angie.  I’m sorry.”  I felt more than saw his shoulders sag as my words sunk in.  “I didn’t know about your life, anymore than you know about mine, and I’m sorry you had to live through that.  I can only imagine how hard that was.”  I could hear the apology in his words, and it just threw more fuel on my fire.  I hated pity, and coming from him it broke me.

“Fuck your sorry.  I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re sorry I had a shitty childhood!”  I took a deep breath before continuing my tirade.  “I didn’t tell you for sympathy; I said it so you would understand that I can’t allow someone else to control my actions.”  I stopped, not really sure how to get my point across.  I knew I should chose my words with more care, but the verbal vomit just kept flowing.  “I don’t expect you and your
perfect life
with all your
fans
and your
fame
and your
money
to understand what it’s like to be beaten down time and time again,” I put so much ugly hate and acid that had been brewing in my veins into my words; I immediately regretted them.

Jack sat back, and for a moment I thought fire was actually going to erupt from his nostrils as rage overtook his features.  “Fuck you.  You don’t know the first fucking thing about me and have no right to make assumptions.”  He leaned away from me, releasing me completely, and pulled a cigarette from his pocket, which he lit and inhaled deeply.  I knew then I had hit below the belt.  He was right, and I was a jackass for taking it all out on him. 

He blew out a giant arc of smoke before speaking again, his tone heavy with the low growling of barely contained rage.  “I’m well aware of the general misconceptions people make about me, but God help me, I thought you were different.  Apparently I was wrong.”

His words stung worse than a swarm of bees.  I deserved it though.  He was just lobbing my blows right back at me, and rightly so.  Still, I had a point to make.

BOOK: Least Likely To Survive
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