Derek Goodman - The Reanimation of Edward Schuett

In the end, he couldn’t do a lot to hide it. Even when switching it into neutral, which was complicated even further by him having to figure out how to put the unfamiliar controls in neutral to begin with, he had a hard time pushing it. There was a ditch along the side of the road that the van wouldn’t be able to go over, and no real cover for miles around to hide it behind anyway. In the end he found a particularly steep section of the ditch and, with Liddie safely outside while he did it, pushed the van in. The van was too big to be completely hidden, but once he threw some dirt and dust over it the van at least looked like it had been there for while. Hopefully that would discourage anyone who came by and just glanced at it.

Liddie had already started wandering off down the road by the time he was finished, and it took him some effort to round her back to the van. Again he realized the task would have been easier if he just gave her an extra nudge with the pheromones, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It felt a little silly, but he couldn’t help but think that sort of thing was akin to mind control, and he refused to force Liddie to do anything with that sort of power. He opened up the van door, preparing to have to give her a little push in, but was surprised when she got in all by herself and sat down on the now-at-an-angle seat. He shrugged and was about to close the door, but she gave a long moan. He stopped and stared, but she simply looked ahead like he wasn’t even there. Edward tried to close the door again, and once more she moaned. The noise almost sounded sad.

He paused. There was still no indication that she knew or cared he was there, but he had to wonder.

“Liddie?” he asked. “Are you there?”

No answer.

“Listen. I’ve got a plan. I think I can help you, or at least I think I’ve figured out someone who can. But I’ve got to go do some stuff before that can happen. Just stay here, okay? I promise to God that I will come back for you.”

No answer.

He debated for a second whether or not to say anything more before deciding on just giving her a peck on the check. Her skin had lost all its heat and was even starting to feel a little rough to the touch. That wasn’t really the way he wanted to remember her, and he wasn’t sure if he could do that again any time soon. When he closed the door this time, however, she remained silent. He hoped that meant she got the message.

The sun was the only way he had to keep track of time as he walked to Laramie. He left when it was only slightly over the horizon and finally got his first glimpse of the city when the sun was directly overhead. From this distance it looked just like any other town he’d seen, with a ring of broken down structures surrounding what looked like a wall, although it was much higher than any of the ones he’d seen in mid-country, and what could have been a thriving community inside.

He spent the rest of the way trying to figure out what he would say. His coveralls might make for some interesting questions, but he thought he could work that into a convincing lie. It would probably even work better if he mixed in just a slight amount of the truth. But once he got inside, he had no clue what he was going to do. If he could he would need to get some food, since he was starving and starting to feel quite sluggish, but he didn’t want to spend any more money than he had to.

He was so busy imagining what it would taste like right now to bite into a savory plate of raw steak or ground beef that he didn’t hear the commotion from one of the guard towers as he got closer. The towers were tall, even taller than anything Stanford had stationed around their perimeter, and had he been paying attention he would have already been able to see several people staring down at him as he passed the first ruined buildings just outside the city. He did finally notice them, however, when they shot at him.

“Holy shit!” he screamed, jumping back as a bullet ricocheted off the broken pavement in front of him.

“Wait, stop!” someone said from up in one of the towers. “It’s a human!”

Edward waited for another shot. When it didn’t come, he tentatively began walking again. There was something different about the setup here, but he couldn’t place his finger on it until he got closer to the walls. Unlike with most of the other towns and cities he had seen, there was no cleared-away ring immediately surrounding the wall. The wall, too, looked different. Others looked like they had been planned and built up with fresh material. This one seemed to be made out of random bricks, cinder blocks, and large stones thrown together with a cheap concrete badly poured over them. He tried to remember if Liddie had told him anything about Laramie, but he didn’t think even she knew much about it other than it was a sizable place on their map. From what he could see, it didn’t look like the kind of place that had done a lot to distinguish itself.

“Hey, you!” someone said from the nearest tower. “If you’re really a human then say something!”

Edward had been rehearsing this moment in his head. “Please, you’ve got to help me. I need to get back to Denver.”

“And just who the fuck are you?”

“I’m a maintenance worker with the CRS,” he said. He had figured that was an easy enough way to explain why he wore coveralls instead of normal clothes. Liddie had mentioned at one point during the long miles between Reno and Salt Lake that there was CRS facility in Denver, but they mostly studied the effects of the high altitude on the zombies and weren’t considered a major part of the organization.

“CRS?” the tower guard asked. “What the fuck is that?”

Edward blinked. That wasn’t good. As far as he had seen so far, almost everybody knew who the CRS was. If he was in a place where they weren’t known at all, then he truly was far from civilization. Suddenly he wasn’t sure that he wanted to go in here at all, but he had no other option at the moment that he could see.

Someone else in the tower spoke up. “They’re those scientists shitheads that were poking around out here last year, remember? Hey, you out there. What’s your name?”

“Edward.”

“Well, Eddy, what’re you guys doing back up here, and why the flying fuck would any brainiac like yourself actually be out here alone?”

“I…I was part of a team. We were doing some routine repairs on some field equipment when a group of reanimated came out of nowhere. I’m the…um, the only one who got away. Please, I haven’t eaten in almost a day, and I need water. And I have to find a way to get back to Denver.”

He heard the two voices talking to each other in low tones. One of them sounded like he was trying to hide laughter. Finally the first one spoke again. “Well all right then, Eddy. I’m sure we can find some food for you, but I don’t know about anything else.”

Unlike other towns, this one had a huge double set of doors instead of just a gate. They looked cobbled together from pieces of scrap metal, and both of them were rusted so badly they hurt Edward’s ears as some armed men pushed them open from the other side. Edward thanked them as he went in, but they both just scowled in response.

Just on the other side of the doors a steep set of stairs led up to the towers, and one of the men came down at a cautious pace. The stairs looked about ready to break apart under his weight. He was tall and skinny, with long knotty hair and clothes that were full of tears and moth holes. Edward’s dusty coveralls looked like a tuxedo next to him.

“Well then, I guess we should welcome you to Laramie,” the man said. Edward looked over the town around him and tried not to gape at the site. When he had first woken up, the ruins outside Fond du Lac had definitely given him the illusion of a post-apocalyptic world. The town itself had cracked that illusion, and Stanford had completely shattered it. Laramie, however, put that illusion back together good as new. Many of the buildings closest to the wall were still somewhat recognizable for the quaint little family homes they had once been, but they all looked like they’d been built before the Uprising and had barely been maintained since. Further away and closer to the center of town there appeared to be newer buildings rising up over the others, but just because they were newer didn’t mean they looked safer to be in. One building, rising up at least six stories, looked to be built with the same mismatched style as the outer wall and appeared to be lopsided. The streets were bustling with people and makeshift tents and booths had been set up on what had once been lawns but were now little more than muddy pits. The rare pieces of clothing that looked newer than fifteen years old appeared to be homemade.