Gregory Norris - Down with the Fallen - A Post-Apocalyptic Horror Anthology

“Come on,” she told Juli, who was looking around, daring a few steps forward. Haley detached herself from the pole of the town sign and took a step forward. The backpack, containing two sweaters, a half-empty 50-pair box of surgical gloves, three cans of baked beans and the half-empty bottle of water along with what remained from a shirt that had belonged to Jim, which she’d used for the bleeding, weighed her down again. Juli had carried it for a while in the morning but Haley had insisted they switch after a couple of hours. For some reason she felt safer with the backpack on, despite the pain. If anything happened that needed them to run, Juli would be quicker without a backpack.

Haley staggered a bit and then straightened up. She was feeling a little better. The pain in her belly had dulled, there didn’t seem to be any sick ones around, and her girl was okay. There was bound to be water somewhere in this town. And food. The baked beans were a strategic reserve, which Haley had picked up from the last place they’d stayed—the Geigers. Both were dead now. Like Jim.

A bird chirped from the maple tree by the town sign. Juli jumped. Haley didn’t have the energy but her heart did a somersault. Her daughter huffed, embarrassed. They walked into town, along what was most probably the main street. There was a Citgo station on the left and a dilapidated house on the right. Its door was hanging open but Haley didn’t even consider going in. Houses with their doors hanging open were always looted and sometimes contained their original occupants, sprawled on the floor, or the bed, or the couch, where the disease had overcome them, starting to moan the moment they saw someone come in, groping the air, exuding disease from their every pore.

Or, worse, they lurked behind doors and sometimes fell on the person who opened that door. That’s what had happened to Jim—a second of distraction had cost him his life. Haley wasn’t sure he was dead. Maybe he was. Maybe he had taken care of himself like he’d said he would. Or maybe he’d gotten scared and had died painfully or was still dying. She refused to think about these alternatives. She assumed he had ended it himself. It was easier this way.

“Do you think there may be something left at the store?” Juli asked, working hard to conceal the hope under a thin veneer of curiosity.

“Let’s check,” Haley said and the two turned left, where five pumps stood dusty and blind in the heat. Most of the hoses lay on the ground, spread in a chaotic pattern, thrown down no doubt angrily or desperately by the unlucky ones who’d reached the station too late, too long after the tanks had run dry.

The convenience store’s door was ajar, they saw when they approached, moving slowly, cautiously, between pump 2 and pump 3. The glass front revealed a mess inside but a mess was better than emptiness and they had seen empty stores on the road. Completely empty, cleared out, with just the shelves left standing. That was the curious thing—those who had cleared out the store had done it in an orderly fashion. Haley was terrified when she saw such a store for the first time and she couldn’t explain why.

This one, however, looked normal, like stores should look after the apocalypse—broken shelves, overturned racks, the floor littered with empty packets of chips, broken bottles and soda cans, and, hopefully, some food lost in all this trash. Juli peered through the door without touching it. Haley mouthed Be careful but her daughter didn’t see it. Besides, she knew to be careful. She was especially careful after Mrs. Geiger fell on her father from behind the door of the Geigers’ bedroom. She turned around.

“It looks empty,” the girl said and turned her head back to the store. Haley nodded. Stores often looked empty and were empty. The big looting wave was long over, along with the initial panic that caused it when people started dying in the thousands, in hospitals, in their beds, on the streets. Now, it was only scavengers like her and Juli that dropped in. Sometimes sick ones wandered into a store, too, but they were easy to spot there—they were very noisy as they tried to move through the usual mess. Often, they fell and stayed on the floor. Often, they died there and stopped being a danger. But you never knew.

“Okay, let’s see what’s in there,” Haley said and took the backpack off. She kneeled in the dust, took out the glove box and pulled out two pairs of latex gloves. She passed one to Juli and donned the other. The disease lingered on things like handles, water faucets and pretty much everything that people touched. It was like Ebola this way. Only it was much worse than Ebola. It was an Ebola-like virus that was supposed to eradicate malaria by killing off the plasmodium that caused it from the inside. Only it didn’t. Something went wrong with the infection. The mosquitoes died, which was one of the purposes, but before they did, they spread the all-new disease so efficiently that instead of getting good old malaria, humankind was now close to extinction. Gloves were precious.

Haley watched Juli put on the gloves. Then she put the box back in the backpack and got up. She dreaded the thought of putting the backpack on again but she couldn’t risk leaving it here, not with the gloves in it. And the water, she reminded herself. As she straightened up, she felt that her crotch was sticky but not exactly wet. Haley took it as a good sign and even cheered up a little. She was getting better. She wouldn’t have to leave Juli alone. The thought made her sick.

“Ready?” she asked and the girl nodded her head. Haley walked up to the door, took the handle between her thumb and index finger, and pulled very slowly. The door opened wider, silently. Juli waited by her side. Haley paused for a second and then pulled the door wide open. The two exchanged a look and stepped in, Haley first, Juli right behind her. A new smell suddenly overruled the all-pervading stink of old decay outside. The counter, to the left of the door, was covered with cash and blood. It stank, not as bad as the piles outside the town line, but still bad. The body was behind the counter—a girl, it looked like, judging by the form. The face was a total loss—bits of bones protruded from the bloody mask that covered what remained of the skull, no features discernible. A swarm of flies made the bloody mask look alive—they were feeding, laying eggs, taking a break hovering over the corpse and then returning for their next meal.

Someone had shot at least two bullets into that head, which may have been pretty before. Two large-caliber bullets. And it hadn’t happened long ago—no maggots had hatched yet. Haley suddenly lost all hope of finding anything worth taking in this place. She turned to tell her daughter they’d better go just in time to see Juli bend over and throw up a handful of water and stomach juices. Haley had forgotten to tell the girl to stay away and not look. She had forgotten to protect her from the sight behind the counter.

“Deep breaths, honey,” she said, rushing to her daughter, squatting next to her. “Deep breaths.”

Juli tried to nod but a dry retch shook her. After it passed, she inhaled deeply and wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her T-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” the girl whispered.

“It’s okay, baby, you haven’t done anything wrong,” Haley whispered back, hugging her tightly and rubbing her back. The girl hid her head in her mother’s neck. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I let you see this. I’m really sorry.”

Juli sobbed a couple of times, then raised her head and stepped away from Haley.

“It’s okay,” she said. She took another deep breath and closed her eyes for a second. “I’m okay.” She opened her eyes. “It didn’t happen long ago, did it?”