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- A. R. Wise
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A fire had erupted outside our office. There were people in the flames that continued walking as they were immolated. They staggered through the fire and attacked those closest to them.
“Do you see that?” I asked Barry.
“Over there." Barry pointed in the opposite direction, to where the flow of people headed.
“What?”
“Look, down the road. A guy's killing someone with an axe.”
“Where?” I saw it before he had to show me. Not more than fifty feet ahead, I saw an axe rise in the air and then fall back down again. The crowd tried to avoid the murder but they were packed too tight for me to get a good view. All I could see was the blood red axe going up, then down. Up, then down. It flayed streams of blood in an arc behind it.
The commotion caused the swell of people below us to slow down. I knew they were going to come to a stop, and then they would go in whatever direction was open to them.
“Come on, Barry. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“How?”
The crowd had almost stopped and several people around us had the same idea we did. They climbed onto our raised section. There was only one way out.
“Up the tree.”
“I haven’t climbed a tree in twenty years, man,” said Barry.
I was already making my way up. I had climbed hundreds of trees as a kid, but none of that experience helped and I struggled to pull my way onto the lowest branch.
I grabbed Barry’s hand to help him as I searched for an escape. The tree looked close enough to the buildings and I'd expected to be able to jump from it to some other platform, but now that I was here it didn’t seem quite so easy.
“What the fuck do we do now?” asked Barry.
“There,” I pointed to a fire escape about ten feet away. “We can get onto that and get to the roof.”
Barry looked at the proposed route and said, “No we can’t.”
“We can climb over that branch and jump.”
“What the fuck? Are you serious? There’s no way that’s going to happen.”
Screams came from below us. I don’t know what happened, but people started screeching in terror. I glanced down and thought I saw a severed head rolling on the pavement, but the crowd closed in too quick for me to be sure. I think Barry saw what it was though, because he suddenly gained the courage to make the leap.
“Go, go, go,” he said and pushed at my back.
I inched forward. For the first few steps I could hang onto a thin branch above me for support, but the last several feet were handled like a tightrope. My bridge bent precariously, but I moved forward until it couldn't hold my weight any longer.
I jumped.
To my complete shock, I made it. It wasn’t graceful and I cut myself on the unforgiving, grated metal, but I made it. I stood up and reached out to help Barry. He looked at me with wide eyes stricken with fear from watching me barely make the leap. I wasn’t in great shape, but I was a pro-athlete compared to Barry.
“I can’t,” he said.
“Come on, I’ll catch you.” I leaned over the edge of the fire escape and reached out to him with both arms.
“I can’t. There’s no way. Let me go down there and you can lower the ladder for me.”
“What ladder?”
“Down there." He pointed along the building to a ladder that could be dropped down to 13th Avenue.
“That’s thirty, forty feet away,” I said. “You’ll never get there.”
People climbed the tree beneath Barry. He saw them coming and must have known it was only a matter of time before they pushed past him to make the leap I'd made. Barry inched forward and gripped the branch above. He wobbled back and forth. I was certain he was going to tumble off. He made it far enough that he had to let go of the branch above and raise his arms out to either side for balance.
One of the men, who had climbed the tree after us, moved out onto the branch behind Barry. He moved fast and the branch buckled under their combined weight.
“Wait your turn!” I shouted.
Barry glanced up at me. I reached out as far as I could. Our fingertips touched and he tried to reach out further. Our fingertips locked.
The crowd shrieked again beneath us. I looked down and saw people attacking each other. I clenched my eyes to ignore the tumult and then looked back at Barry. I tried to keep him focused on what he was doing. “Don’t look down,” I said. “Look at me. Look at me. Look at me. We can do this.”
Barry kept his eyes locked on mine until our hands clasped.
The man behind him moved forward and begged Barry to hurry.
Then the branch broke.
The snap is a sound that has haunted me just as much as the children screaming on that bus. It cracked from somewhere near the trunk and the entire branch crashed into the people below. Barry fell forward and I gripped onto his hand as tight as possible.
No matter how many movies you watch where someone barely grabs another person by the hand and then pulls them to safety, it’s just not possible. Barry fell, and my grip on his hand snapped free the second his entire weight became my responsibility.
He didn’t fall far, six feet at the most, but he fell into a pit of horror. The people around him were killing each other. They didn't just beat each other like the men in the business suits had stomped the vagrant outside our office, these people bit each other to death. They chewed pieces of flesh off the ones that tried to escape.
Barry fell to the pavement as I stood above. I watched the crowd of cannibals flood over him. They fell to their knees and ripped at his flesh. They pulled his arms up and bit into them. He cried out to me for help as they ate him, but there was nothing I could do. His cries became a gurgle as he choked on his own blood.
I watched my best friend get eaten alive.
My heart raced and every breath came into my lungs with a weight that crippled me. Barry was dead. It was my fault and nothing would ever change that. I let him fall to his death. My body shook as I cried out in rage at the loss of my best friend.
There wasn’t time to mourn. The city was in turmoil and I had to escape if I wanted to see my family again. I climbed the metal stairs to the top of the five-story building. Looking back on it, I suppose I should've gone over to the ladder to lower it and save whomever I could, but I didn’t. I didn’t understand what was going on at the time, and my survival instinct took over. How was I supposed to know the people attacking each other were zombies? How was I supposed to know they couldn’t climb a ladder? At the time, it seemed like this disease or virus or whatever it was just turned people into homicidal maniacs.
No matter what anyone thinks of how I acted that day, I did what I had to. I had to get home to my family. That was the only thing that was going through my mind as I stood on that roof. I couldn't quit until I knew they were safe.
CHAPTER THREE – THE ANGELS OF EVERLAND RIVER
I ran across the rooftops. Most of the buildings were close enough that I could step between them, but there were a couple I had to leap across like a comic book super hero. A few groups of people had made it to the rooftops as well and watched me run past, but everyone was in such a state of shock that no one said anything. Most of them stared over the edge at the mayhem below.
I reached the last building on the block and stared down. I'd made it to Clarkson Street. Across that was the Everland River. If I could make it there, over the street, I could jump into the water and swim away. It might not be the best plan, but it was a hell of a lot better than taking the streets home.
There was a thick cable stretched out from the corner of my building to a telephone pole beside a billboard that stood above the bridge. The cable was used to hang signs over the street to announce various city events. Today it displayed a big black banner for an exhibit at the Arkland Art Museum. I said a quick prayer to a God I didn’t normally have time for and then stepped onto the wire.
I planned to tight rope across, but I gave up on that idea almo
st instantly. Instead, I got on my hands and knees and gathered my courage to do the most insane thing I'd ever attempted. I crawled out on the wire and let myself dangle upside down over the swirling throng of violence below. I wrapped my legs around the wire and pulled myself along. The steel cable burned the skin on the back of my legs through my pants. I edged my way around the banner and the steel dug into my palms. The cable creaked under my weight and the real possibility of it snapping ran through my head. The sounds of murder below grew into a cacophony that rattled my nerves. If I fell, I would be torn apart, just like poor Barry. I slid steadily forward until I thought I was close enough to jump to the billboard that hung over the river.
I had to dangle from the cable with only my hands and swing over to the billboard's ladder. I swung back and forth to gain momentum and the threaded cable sliced into my palms. I let go and sailed through the air. My body crashed into the ladder and I grasped at the rungs. My chin bounced off one of the steps and I bit into my tongue. My mouth filled with blood and my hands were shredded, but I made it. I climbed up the ladder and moved until I stood above the middle of Everland River.
People swam below and more jumped in every minute. I watched them for a long time, partly because I wanted to see if they attacked each other and partly because I was terrified to jump fifty feet into the water. It looked a hell of a lot farther down now than when I concocted this plan.
None of the people in the water attacked each other and I nearly had myself convinced that a fifty-foot fall wouldn’t hurt. I took my shoes off and tossed them in the river. It would be too hard to swim if I jumped in with my clothes on. I started to take my pants off when I realized if I threw them away I wouldn’t have any place to carry my wallet, keys, and phone. If I lost my phone I'd be cut off from my family completely.
I called Laura, but couldn’t get through. The lines were busy as thousands of other worried people tried to call their loved ones at the same time. I stared at the picture of my wife and two girls that I'd taken for Laura’s birthday. It was set as Laura’s profile on my phone, and whenever I called her it popped up on the screen. I tried to call her over and over to keep the picture from fading to black. I wondered if I would ever see them again.
I'd spent my life moving from work to bed, or at least it felt that way. I was happy to have a good job that paid enough to allow Laura to stay home with the girls, but I'd sacrificed most of my free time. It was hard to believe five years had passed since our first daughter, Kim, was born. Our second, Annie, had just turned three last month. I loved those girls with every ounce of my being, but I'd be lying if I said I knew them. Most days I left before they woke up and got home with just enough time to read them a story and tuck them in. That didn't leave us much time to get to know one another.
Laura would send me pictures constantly, and I had the weekends with them, but free time was something I wasn't good at managing. It always seemed like there were things to do, places to be, people to have dinner with, family to visit, and a million other excuses to do something that didn’t involve spending time with my kids. There were always more important things to accomplish, or so I thought at the time.
I wasn’t crying out of fear. I'd already accepted I was going to die. I'd been coming to grips with that ever since the doctor called. I cried because it took this moment to make me realize how much I loved my family. It took a worldwide apocalypse and staring down a fifty-foot leap into the frigid water of the Everland River to get my priorities straight. “I love you guys,” I said to my phone. I slipped it back into my pocket and decided to leave my pants on for the swim. I didn’t want to lose my wallet and there was at least a slim chance my phone was partially waterproof. I steadied myself with several deep breaths.
Then I jumped.
I tried to keep my feet straight as I plummeted, but instinct, or panic, took over and I waved my arms and legs around like a cartoon coyote shot out of an Acme cannon. I hit the water ass first and the pain shot up through my spine like a lightning bolt. The strangest tingling sensation rose to the crown of my head as I sank into the water. It was like the pins and needles you feel when your arm falls asleep, but these pins stabbed into me like knives. The fall knocked the sense out of me and I sank into the black depths of the river.
The Everland devoured me and I was complicit. The silence of the water was welcoming compared to the screaming death that waited above. All of the concerns that plagued me before I hit the water were absolved the second it swallowed me. My arms lilted above to the cadence of the current and I smiled as I stared at them.
Another set of arms reached out for me from below. I felt someone’s fingers slide over my waist. They wrapped their arm over my stomach and their fingertips tickled my side as they pulled me closer. The Angels of Everland River welcomed me in.
I opened my eyes to witness the gates of Heaven hidden in the blackness at the bottom of the river. I was ready to be ushered inside.
Gnashing teeth lunged at my face and any sense of comfort I'd experienced evacuated my muddled head. Something, someone, tried to eat me down there!
I struggled and kicked at my submerged attacker, but it held onto my belt and pulled me closer. I swallowed water as I gasped and my terror doubled when I felt myself drowning. Not only was I going to be eaten alive, I was going to drown while it happened.
The jaws snapped at me again and I used my right hand to grab the person’s neck and push them back. I struggled to take off my pants with my left hand, which was a hell of a lot harder than I would've thought. I unbuckled the belt and managed to kick free. My attacker helped as he pulled at the waistband, which allowed me to get free quicker than I could have alone. Once my legs were out, I pushed against the man standing on the bottom of the river and left him behind with my pants, and phone, as a souvenir. He reached out for me again, but I managed to escape. I saw his eerie, bloated face grimacing up at me.
I struggled to the surface, swimming harder than I knew I could. I gasped for air when my head crested the waves. I'd swallowed a big gulp of water down below and was having trouble breathing. I sputtered and choked, but I was alive. Somehow I'd escaped a horrific death.
And then the boat hit me.
What fucking luck. Some jackass motored down the river in his fishing boat, cracking the skulls of anyone in his way as he raced out of the city. I emerged from the water just in time to get smacked back under by the fiberglass bottom. The pain debilitated me and I felt his rear motor whirl above as he passed, inches from my head. My mind spun and it was hard to discern which way was up as I bobbed under the waves. I don’t think I consciously reached the surface, but rather just floated up there to stare at the blue, cloudless sky.
The screaming around me came into focus, then out again, then back as the waves lapped over me. It was like I was falling in and out of a cavern, the echoes of torture and death reverberating through my skull as I fell. I glanced to the side and saw people leap from the concrete bank into the water. Some of them shrieked, some cried, and others chewed on human flesh as they fell in. There was blood everywhere.
The water wasn’t blue anymore. It was viscous crimson. Seeing the blood helped me remember I was trying to survive and bobbing in the waves wasn’t going to keep me alive much longer. I started to swim again and was able to get a better sense of my surroundings once my head was out of the water.
That’s when I heard the pontoon boat coming. There were people at the front who screamed at everyone to move out of the way, but just like the first boat, they didn't stop for anything. It headed my way and punted the other bobbing heads back under water as it came.
I swam to the right and it missed me. I was close enough that I grabbed the side to be carried along, but my fingers slipped off the edge. I clawed at anything I could as the boat moved away and I managed to pull a life preserver off the side. I looped my arm through it just as the slack of the rope connecting it to the boat tightened. I was pulled along and my head dragged beneath the waves
as my grip on the life preserver slipped.
I struggled against the water to pull myself up, but the boat moved too fast. The water pushed against my face and I couldn’t manage to breath in the brief seconds between my continued submersions. I would have to let go to keep from drowning, but I wanted to be ferried along as far as possible.
To my relief, the boat slowed down. As the waves relented and we slowed to a near stop, I was able to pull myself up onto the life preserver and gasp for breath. I had to blink away the blood and water that stung my eyes before I could see again. The first thing I saw was a police officer on the back of the pontoon with a pistol pointed at me.
“Don’t shoot me!” I said.
The cop was startled and raised his gun. “This one’s talking,” he said to someone else on the boat.
“I don’t give a fuck,” said a gruff voice with a southern twang. “Shoot him.”
The black cop lowered his gun at me again.
“What the hell? Don’t shoot me,” I said.
“Are you dead?” he asked.
“What?” The question made no sense to me. “No. I’m alive.”
Another cop, this one carrying a shotgun, appeared beside his fellow officer. He stared down at me, then turned to his friend and said, “He’s dead.”
“I’m not dead!”
“Look at his head. If he ain’t dead, he will be soon,” said the second, white cop. Shots rang out from the front of the boat and the cop with the shotgun walked away to see what had happened. The black cop got down on his knees to talk to me.
“I ain’t gonna pull you up, but if you can hang on we’re heading out to Hailey's End. That island out there in the bay. If you can hold on, maybe we'll get the doctors to check you out over there. Can you hold on?"
I bobbed about ten feet behind the boat and had trouble hearing what the officer said above the yelling that came from the streets around us, but I nodded as if I understood everything.