S. Davis - 900 Miles

Bursting through the door at the top of the staircase, I found myself standing on gravel as my eyes re-adjusted to the sunlight on the exposed roof. The entire thing was covered in small white rock chips, clearly used to cover the melting black tar spread across the whole of the roof. Pulling my fists tight, I flinched as each step forward crunched into the open air as if we were stepping across a sea of fortune cookies.

Kyle nodded to me before taking off to the far side of the building to survey our surroundings while I moved toward the drop-off directly in front of us.

Digging my nails into my rifle, I edged toward the two-story drop. My eyes almost immediately landed on the waving arms of a creature plopped down against the far wall across from where I was perched. Ducking down a bit, I first thought the damn thing was pointing toward me, trying to signal that there was a bite-sized snack up on the roof.

Cursing myself for being caught, once again, on a goddamned roof, I squinted to get a better look at the courtyard. Not finding any other creatures below, my eyes fell on a double barrel shotgun lying just feet from the Z. Looking more closely at the creature slumped against the wall, I winced as I realized it very clearly had a hole blown through its stomach.

The pebbles below me cracked in place as I slid slightly closer to the edge of the building. Leaning forward a bit, I could just barely make out that its arms were twisting around its body in a circling motion, moving back and forth from its missing stomach to its head.

Lifting the rifle to my face, I peered down the scope on the weapon to get a little more up-close-and-personal with the thing. Leveling the sight on its head, I watched in horror as I realized what the monster was doing. It was lying there, perfectly content, shoveling chunks of regurgitated flesh into its mouth, only to have them pushed down its throat and out the cavity that used to be its stomach. Then it was reaching down, grabbing the same chunks of meat, and shovel them back into its lifeless jaws again.

Feeling a bit of vomit hit the back of my throat; I slid my index finger toward the trigger. Taking a deep breath, I lifted the barrel slightly to move the crosshairs along the gray flesh left on its forehead. Its hair had all but fallen out, and a dark cavity was all that remained in place of an eye that had long ago been plucked from its mangled face. I found it slightly amazing that I could get sick after everything I’d seen. Guess that means I still actually felt something back then.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Kyle whispered, walking up behind me. “We don’t want to draw their attention just yet. Besides, you’re an awful shot…”

Exhaling the deep breath, I’d been holding for too long, I blinked my eyes, lowered the rifle, and turned around to see him grinning at me.

Deciding he was right, but not wanting to acknowledge it, I shifted my shoulders while reaching into a side pocket on my vest. Pulling out my cell phone, I slid the unlock feature on the screen and pulled it to my face to see the time. We’d already been gone for hours. Time was slipping away like specks of sand through an hourglass. Looking past my phone, blankly staring at the white pebbles on the roof, I found myself simply hoping that there would be enough specks for us to get home.

Glancing at my phone, Kyle asked, “Why do you carry that thing… waiting for cell service to flip back on?”

“It’s my only clock. I don’t have an old-ass wristwatch like you.”

Like so many others before the apocalypse, I’d had my face constantly plastered to the thing. I’d be more panicked if I left the house without my phone than my wallet. Of course, now it didn’t have cell service or Internet access. Yet, there I was, still tethered to the damn thing.

I once read that amputees often experience what they call “phantom sensations” in their lost appendages. Better put, they continue to feel pain in an arm or leg that has been removed as if it was still there. In the same sense, I couldn’t help but tap on the email or browser apps from time-to-time… searching for a sensation of normalcy that had long ago been torn away.

However, I did have a few other valid reasons for carting it around, but I didn’t want to bring up the fact that the hard drive also contained the last remaining pictures of my wife. My wife.

Continuing, I dug my foot into the pebbles and said, “Besides, it’s got a compass and a few apps that still work just fine. Don’t know what the hell I’d do without Angry Birds.”

Nodding toward me, Kyle replied, “Gotcha, that makes sense…” then with a fake scowl, he asked, “Now why would you go pick on my old-ass watch?”

“Don’t know, guess it’s just kinda out of place on you.”

He paused for a moment and lifted the watch, still on his wrist, toward the sky. “Yeah, I guess it is. I like to think of it as vintage.” Lowering his arm, he brushed the scratched faceplate with his thumb and continued, “Old thing was actually my grandfather’s.”

Sliding the cell phone back into my vest pocket, I leaned in to look a little closer at the rust growing across the golden casing and worn leather band, cocking my head sideways. Kyle saw I was curious for more.

“When he gave me this watch, he told me he wore it because it reminded him of where he came from. That proud old man grew up on a farm. Humble beginning for sure. Told me that he saved up forever as a child to buy it.” Kyle paused and smiled slightly as if thinking back to a memory or a conversation that had happened long ago.

“My grandfather eventually broke away from the farm… building a small empire. Old bugger was a genius when it came to finances, but I can honestly say he never let it get to his head. He wore this old thing until just about the end. Seeing how his son, my father, turned out, I think he wanted it to be the same reminder to me… that money doesn’t make you special. You’re not suddenly someone different because you have a few extra bucks in the bank.”

Thinking of the fact that Kyle probably could have lived the easy life instead of heading off to the Army, I couldn’t help but admire the guy. I can’t say I would have done the same thing before the world went to shit. Thinking of Tyler, I could only hope that I’d be able to impart the right lessons about what was really important in this new life now.

A squelch from the radio on my shoulder sounded before I could hear Jarvis. Raising my eyebrows, I waiting in anticipation. It was time to find out if this trip was worth it.

“John, I wanted to let you know we’ve hit the nurse’s office, and it’s a gold mine. Everything we need is here.”

Looking up at the sky, I slowly nodded my head and double checked. “They have the right meds?”

“Yes, boys, and plenty of them. I’ve got the pack filled up. Meet us up front in two minutes!”

Feeling like a boulder had been lifted off my chest, I looked up at Kyle. My face must have radiated relief.

However, his face looked grimmer. Things changed so quickly in this world…

The hair on the back of my neck spiked as, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a movement at the edge of the building across from the creature playing the human recycling game.

Looking out across the building, Kyle perked up and asked, “Do you see that?”

Blinking to make sure I saw what I thought I did, I leaned forward to see the giant, rounded torso of a fat man’s body lying on the ground, shaking violently. Even from the distance, I could see the wiggle of its half-eaten love handles. Its legs were not visible. They were hidden behind the corner of the wall.

“Was that there before?” I asked.

Lifting my rifle and focusing my scope down on the corner of the building, I could see a number of rotting arms reaching from behind the wall and tearing into that Thanksgiving Day feast of a man. The gore from his stomach was spread across the grass-filled playground just to their right, a lost reminder of the youthful bliss that once decorated this school.