Timothy Long - Beyond the Barriers

What I wouldn’t give for a hot bath, a bottle of ibuprofen, and a six pack of cheap beer.

We moved for as long as we could before Haley begged a break. I panted beside her until I caught my breath again. Then I put my hand on her shoulder in what I hoped was a comforting manner. She reacted by covering my large hand in her cold slim one. Her eyes were large and glistened in the dark, as if she had been crying. I stood like a big dumb oaf, wondering if she wanted a hug or something.

She sat down on a log and stared back in the direction from which we had come. Scott dropped down beside her.

I sat as well, even though I was afraid I would never be able to get up again. I picked the most uncomfortable-looking section of the log, leaned over, and tried to catch my breath. Scott did the same next to me, as did Haley. She was having trouble breathing, but when I looked over at her she was still looking away, back toward the camp we had fled. I wondered what her thoughts were, but I kept mine to myself.

A bunch of black bulbs caught my eye. Reaching down, I pulled one up and studied it. I was tired and couldn’t afford to make a mistake, but we needed something to eat. After turning the mushroom around in my hand, I popped it in my mouth.

Scott looked over and gave a gasp as I chewed. I shot him my best grin and pulled up another one.

“You fucking crazy, man?”

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “Black Trumpet is an edible mushroom. We need the protein.”

He looked at the thing then touched it with his tongue. He recoiled, but then he stuck it in his mouth and chewed, keeping his eyes scrunched the entire time as if he were indeed eating poison. I would have thought a survivor of one of the worst events in the history of the human race would have a bigger pair, and expressed my thoughts. I was dog-tired but didn’t want to miss a chance to rib my friend. It was all in jest, and I thought it might take the edge off our situation.

“Whatever, man. I bet I can whip up some dog shit tacos you wouldn’t look at twice,” he countered. Haley looked on but didn’t say a word.

Her face was paler than I remembered, so I moved my hand to touch her forehead to check for fever, but she moved aside before I could make contact. She sat back, away from us, and wedged herself into the crossing of two large tree trunks. I tried to meet her gaze, but she didn’t let me. Instead, she closed her eyes.

I didn’t blame her. I was cold and tired too, but we had to stay alert. It wouldn’t hurt to let her keep her eyes closed for a few minutes.

Movement to my left. I caught the shadow of something just as Scott jerked his head to follow it. We might not have had weapons, but that didn’t stop Scott from picking up a large branch. He put it over his shoulder and gripped the haft with both hands. If he was anywhere near as exhausted as I was, he might get one solid swing out of the hunk of wood.

I dropped into something close to a combat stance and got ready to fight if I had to. Lucky for us, it was just one of the mindless wandering by. Its shiny bald head passed between a break in the branches and then moved on. I exhaled as quietly as possible and wondered if the things even had decent hearing. For all I knew, the zombies were deaf mutes that relied on something else to sense those around them.

I was so tired that I started daydreaming about men in white coats who surrounded a pair of zombies bound in shackles. They poked and prodded, and one even used a pair of pliers to snip off a fingertip. The thing moaned and groaned but didn’t acknowledge the pain.

Shaking my head, I snapped out of it. Was there a place in the city where they made a study of the dead? Was there a clinic that was looking for some sort of cure? The government had to be in control of something. They had to have a plan. Was this really how the human race was meant to go out? In a flash of undead that devoured the world? I refused to believe it.

Scott nodded at me, so I reached down and urged Haley to her feet. She sighed as I helped her up, then looked at me with blank eyes. I tried to look reassuring, but it was a struggle that she didn’t bother to acknowledge. When I reached to touch her head again, she did not pull away. She was hot, like she was running a fever, probably from all the running. Not to mention living in filth and cold for days. I shouldn’t be surprised she was getting sick. When was the last time she had eaten?

“Let’s roll, hombre,” Scott said, and I nodded.

I tugged Haley along behind me, and her tiny hand burned in mine. We headed in the direction I hoped was away from the camp. The rain fell again, and it just added to the misery. I stumbled over a fallen branch, then slid across a pile of leaves that gave out as I stepped on them. My foot got stuck every time I squished over a mud hole. My shoes were a mess, but at least I still had them. They grew heavier and heavier as they accumulated more and more gunk.

I ran smack into someone or something and threw a halfhearted punch. It was a jab with little force behind it and, of course, I missed by a mile. The figure stumbled back and held his hands up. He hissed at me, and I dropped my arms to my sides. Another survivor.

“It’s me, from the cage. Name’s Jack.”

I remembered him from not so long ago. He was the one who wanted to go back and destroy as many of the ghouls as he could in a suicide mission. I stretched out one exhausted arm and placed it on his shoulder. Somehow, I managed a nod that I hoped was somewhat friendly.

“Nice to meet you, Jack. Welcome to the boy scouts from hell.”

“And girl scouts,” Haley muttered.

He gave a sharp chuckle at her gallows humor. Scott slid up beside me and studied the man in the dark.

“Where are the others you escaped with?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know. We ran together, but I got separated and backtracked. I think there’s a road around here somewhere. Seems like when they brought us in, we weren’t too far from some houses or maybe a farm.”

“A farm? Hiding out there would be appropriate,” I said.

“Huh?” Scott looked at me like I was crazy—again.

“Like the old zombie movies. People boarding up houses and hiding out while the dead figure out ways to get in.”

“You are one morbid mother fucker, you know that?” Scott said.

I shook my head and pointed into the dark. How much longer until light? If the dawn arrived, we might have a better chance, but the dead would also have a better chance at finding us. Stepping away from the men, I assumed they would follow, while I let my instincts guide me toward who knew what.

The sound of birds tweeting all around us was reassuring. It gave the air a sense of normalcy, as if we were on a camping trip and not running for our lives. For the past hour, we’d made our way through the woods, hoping we weren’t going in circles.

Jack was a big man, but he seemed to have more energy than either of us. He crashed through whatever we came across with a sense of purpose, like he was on a mission. I admired his drive, since mine was all but gone. When was the last time I’d had a real meal? The few mushrooms sat in my stomach and made me queasy, because they demanded company. But the night held little in the way of relief. I came across another patch of mushrooms, but I didn’t recognize them. They taunted me, and for one crazy minute, I imagined them sautéed and placed atop a massive porterhouse steak.

We were sitting with our backs to trees on a slight incline. I wanted to close my eyes and sleep for a few hours, but I settled for drifting off, then shaking my head when I had waking dreams. The thought of sleeping was tantalizing. It would be so easy to just let it go and drift off for a while, but there was no telling what all was out there or if they hunted us. An hour ago, we had heard a scream in the distance. We looked at each other with wide eyes. My back broke out in goose bumps.