After Life | Book 2 | Life After Life Read online

  “That’s great,” Michelle said. “Really something the world could use. I bet you’ll do it.”

  “What did you want to be when you were a kid?” Celia suddenly asked.

  “Me?” Michelle asked.

  “Yeah. You couldn’t have wanted to work in Zombie Prevention. What were you hoping to do?”

  Musician. Singer. That was still the answer. But Michelle wanted to inspire these kids, and telling them she had dreamed of doing a job that basically no longer existed, that was entirely foreign to them, didn’t seem like a winning strategy. She thought about it for a minute as she made a left turn, hoping this next tiny road would lead to a larger, main route.

  Michelle wanted to find just the right answer. The one that would fill Celia and Stacy and Simon with awe, impress them. The answer that would tell them that optimism was right. But she was struggling. She didn’t want to say doctor, or architect, or teacher. They were all taken just in that car. She wanted something impressive. And then, she thought of it.

  “I wanted to sing,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Music. I wanted to be the next Gwen Stefani or Beyonce.” She paused. “You don’t even know who they are, do you? I wanted to be a singer. Play an instrument. Make music.” The car was silent for a minute. “It wasn’t going to change the world. I mean, maybe if I was that good, but odds are, being a musician wasn’t going to solve all the world’s problems. It was just what I wanted to do.

  “But that’s just it,” she went on. “It’s what I wanted to be. Your goals don’t need to be for the good of the world. They need to be for the good of you. Simon wants to be an architect, and that’s going to be great for just about everybody if he is. The world needs people who can do that. But that’s not why he wants to do it. He wants to do it because his mom did it, and he loves his mom. The world has 10 million vacant, ready houses, and sure, a lot of them are run down, but even if they were brand new and ready to go, I’d wager he’d still want to do it. Stacy wants to be a teacher, I bet because she saw the neighbor kids growing up and loved spending time with them. Not because it will fix the world, but because it’s fun.

  “I wanted to sing,” she said. “It’s all I ever dreamed of as long as it was something I could do. And wanting to do it was almost as fun as doing it. I took music classes. I put pictures of my favorite singers on my wall. I sang in the shower. So loud. My sister hated me.” Michelle almost laughed. “Dreaming is fun. What do you dream of?”

  From behind her, Erik stirred. “We decorated the nursery,” he said. “Well, what would have been the nursery. At our house. Pictures of artists, athletes. Actors. Jobs that don’t exist anymore. Wanted our child to have those dreams.”

  “Did you dream of being a doctor?” Michelle asked, thankful Erik had picked up the thread.

  He hesitated before nodding. “I did,” he finally said. “But my wife didn’t want to be a lifelong soldier. She had wanted to be a veterinarian. Parents owned horses.” He laughed. “She always said as a little kid, when people asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, she’d say a horse. Once she realized people couldn’t just be horses, she switched to the next best thing.”

  “Horses are cool,” Simon said in some form of affirmation. Michelle saw him glance over to Celia like he was curious if he had said the right thing. Celia didn’t seem to offer much response, which Simon took as acceptance.

  “That’s the sort of thing I’m talking about,” Michelle said. “When you were a little kid, before you knew what limitations were, what did you want to do?”

  Stacy shrugged. “I feel like I remember wanting to be an astronaut,” she said. “Go to outer space.”

  Michelle nodded. She remembered Madison telling her about that long-forgotten dream of Stacy’s.

  “I wanted to write,” Celia said. She had barely spoken the whole car ride, but she suddenly sounded more alert.

  “Really?” Michelle asked. “Write what?”

  “I don’t know,” Celia said, genuinely. “Just write. My dad only had a few books around the house, but our neighbor had more. Had a lot of them. There were these kids books, with pictures, and bigger books, and everything. I read them as I got older, but I remember as a little girl, just holding the books in my lap and flipping the pages as fast as I could.

  “My dad didn’t talk a whole lot,” Celia went on. “Unless he was teaching me something about survival, he didn’t go on that much. But these books, they went on forever. I would flip through, page after page, all these words. I never knew people could use that many words. I never even knew there were that many words. But these books would go on forever, it felt like. Before I could even read them, I’d flip through them. It was like … Dad only said so many words, but there were so many more out there. And if there were that many more words out there, then that meant there should be more of everything out there. A whole world I didn’t know. Maybe that world is just in the past now, but knowing it existed … I don’t know, but the idea of giving someone else that feeling someday, that feeling of all the words, of a whole wide world. I just wanted to write.”

  Celia fell silent for a moment. “It’s not worth much in this world, though.”

  Michelle liked that story. She was still driving on a little side road, but she saw what looked like a main road crossing their path within a block or so, where a right turn would take them back on what she hoped was the right path.

  “That’s neat,” Michelle said as she reached the intersection. “I think that sounds…” She stopped mid-sentence. The intersection, the main road she was going to turn onto, wasn’t as abandoned as she had first thought. Across the intersection from where they were about to emerge, on the edge of what looked to have once been an urban basketball court, was a group, about 25 strong, of zombies.

  This was a rough group. Not one of them moved fast, as far as Michelle could tell on a first look. But 25 zombies was still 25 zombies. That could create big problems for her and her group.

  Michelle hit the gas. Making the turn cleanly would be enough to put these zombies well behind them. But they had seen her coming. The healthiest of the group started moving in their direction. There was enough room for Michelle to get through the intersection before they could crowd her path, but only by a little. She accelerated a little more, came clear of the building on her left, started to turn onto the main road … and collided with a truck speeding through the intersection.

  Chapter Seven: First Date

  Celia saw the zombies coming around the same time Michelle did. She felt the rising bile that signaled impending danger, but she didn’t feel the need to worry too much, not at the speed Michelle was traveling and with the space they had.

  But Celia didn’t see the truck, just like Michelle didn’t. It was a small old pickup, with only a small row of front seats and a short bed. It was black, with a red stripe in the middle, though rust had just about rendered the stripe unidentifiable. And just like Michelle had hit the gas to beat the zombies that were at the intersection, so too had this truck.

  And so the two vehicles collided, the truck’s front passenger corner colliding with the driver’s-side fender of Michelle’s car. The truck shuddered, veered left, and turned onto its side, where it skidded for a few feet and stopped.

  Michelle’s car stayed on the ground. It spun around a full turn and part of another, and then was still. Celia heard Michelle and Stacy start to scream, was vaguely aware of Simon and Erik doing so as well, and in short order realized she was screaming too. She felt separate from all of it, like she was watching the wreck in slow motion from a few feet above the car. She even felt like she could see the roof of the car as it spun. The front corner of the car, which had crumpled in the collision, was clear in her mind as well.

  The car spun until its driver’s-side tires hit the sidewalk, where it tilted onto the tires for just an instant and slammed back down to the ground.

  Almost immediately, before Celia was even sure the car w
as stopped, Simon had jumped from the vehicle, pulling his weapon out at the same time. The truck tipping over had managed to take out some of the charging zombies, but there was still a big group. Half of them had converged on the truck, but the rest were still heading toward the car, and Simon was snapping to attention.

  To Celia’s left, Erik moved as well, a little slower than Simon. Celia looked to the front of the car, where she figured Michelle would be doing the same, but she was still sitting in her seat. Stacy, meanwhile, had started sobbing and holding her midsection.

  Erik’s move, instead of toward the action, was around the car, to where Stacy was. Celia wondered why at first, before remembering they had taken away Erik’s weapon.

  He held his hand out to Stacy. “Gun!” He said. Stacy hesitated, but handed the weapon over. Meanwhile, Celia started to follow Erik and Simon. Before she had even gotten out of the car, though, Erik turned to her. “You stay by the car!” he said, authority in his voice. He pointed to Stacy. “You keep her safe. Stay by her side. He and I have this.”

  Celia wanted to help but recognized that Stacy was in no place to help herself and they had only moments earlier agreed she was on car-rest anyway. So she stayed there, gun at the ready, and watched as Simon and Erik did indeed have it. They cleared away the zombies that were at their side and moved on to the ones on the other side of the truck. Helpfully, the truck toppling had taken out some, and Erik and Simon went through the rest in short order.

  Celia watched them, breathless. Simon was just about flawless in his work. If he shot one in the head, he moved on. If he hit it anywhere lower, he would stop long enough to take a second shot. He never got within arm’s length of any of them, even the ones that were already gone. His head stayed steady, but she could see his eyes always moving. In little more than a few seconds, Simon took out at least twice as many Z’s as Erik. It was a clinical effort, looking more like a man who had made a life out of battling zombies than a kid who was one day into the job.

  When the zombies were all dispatched, Erik moved to the truck, to the shattered front windshield and, ultimately, to the dying man still behind the wheel.

  “He’s been bitten!” Erik called to Simon as the younger man started to approach. “They got to him.” Simon stopped short, and Erik shot the driver of the truck in the head before turning back.

  Celia had her gun in her hand throughout the affair, but she never came close to having to use it. Finally, with all the zombies gone, Celia looked inside the car. She was afraid Michelle was dead, as still as she had been when the car stopped, but when Celia looked, Michelle was brushing her hair out of her face and turning awkwardly in her seat to check on Stacy, who was still crying and holding her midsection.

  “Are you okay?” Michelle asked, her hand on Stacy’s shoulder.

  She had to repeat the question twice before Stacy spoke. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “I feel the same as before. I don’t know. I don’t know.”

  Erik hurried over to her side, shooing Celia out of the way. The first thing he did, almost seeming like an act of good faith, was to hand Stacy her gun back. After she took it, he got to work. He prodded Stacy’s abdomen, checked her pulse, undid her seat belt and checked for marks and bruising. “I don’t see anything to be overly concerned about,” Erik said when he was done. “Obviously, that was traumatic, and we’ll need to monitor your status. But I think you’re in okay shape for the time being.”

  Stacy didn’t seem any more convinced of that than she had been of Erik’s earlier reassurances, but she nodded.

  “What do we do now?” Celia said. “This car isn’t doing great.”

  Simon and Erik turned their attention to the front of the car for what appeared to be the first time. Celia saw the disappointment in both of their faces when they realized how smashed up the front of the car was.

  “Damn,” Erik said.

  “It … it might be worse than that,” Michelle said, and for the first time Celia heard the stress in her voice. They all looked to her and realized she was sweaty and appeared to be in some real pain. “I …” she took a breath, “I can’t move my foot. It’s pinned or something. And it hurts like hell.”

  Quickly, Erik circled to the other side of the car. It took him two tries and a forceful yank to get Michelle’s door open. When he did, Michelle managed to turn a bit in her seat, but she let out a pained yelp when she moved her leg.

  “I might have a problem,” she said between deep breaths.

  Erik looked down at her foot, and Celia noticed a small recoil. “That’s putting it mildly,” he said. He popped the trunk of the car and circled to the back, pulling out a couple pieces of clothing and a bottle of water. He moved back to Michelle and started to at least clean the area.

  While Erik worked, Stacy spoke. “I’m not supposed to move, Michelle can’t, we don’t have a car. What are we going to do?”

  Erik looked up from Michelle like that hadn’t occurred to him. He looked up and down the road, but there was nothing in sight. He turned his attention back to Michelle and spoke while looking down. “I don’t know,” he said. “But we have a broken ankle here. She’s not going to do much foot travel.”

  Celia echoed the look Erik had given up and down the street, but it was just as fruitless. She looked up the road, in the direction they would have been traveling if not for the accident. A hundred yards or so away, just after the basketball courts, was a building that looked like it held apartments, and there was a car-sized opening at the ground level. Just above the opening was the word “garage” mounted in large white plastic letters.

  “There,” Celia said, pointing to the building. “‘Garage.’ That’s, like, a big place to park, right? There might be cars there.”

  “A lot of garages are just empty holes these days,” Erik said, but as he did he was still looking back and forth. “I don’t see many other options, though.”

  “The sign is still pretty clean,” Michelle said between labored breaths. “I think it’s been maintained.”

  “Is it okay if I walk there?” Stacy said. “I’m not even supposed to…”

  “If we knew there was a car there, I’d be more okay with it,” Erik said. “But I’m not a big fan of you walking blindly and hoping. That’s too much travel. Not to mention I don’t think Michelle is going to be putting much weight on that ankle any time soon.”

  Celia looked to Michelle, who was slinking down in her seat. She had almost forgotten the injury. “So what do we do?” she asked.

  Simon spoke up next. He, like Erik and Celia, was looking up and down the road, but his focus was on the side of the road, the basketball court, the sidewalk. He wasn’t looking for cars. “There aren’t any Z’s in sight,” he said. “I should be able to go and get a car and come back before they show up.”

  “You can’t go by yourself!” Celia said, and as she did she realized her voice had risen and she sounded more panicked than she meant to. And with that realization came another, that she was suddenly sweating and scared. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want Simon to be in danger. She didn’t want Simon to be out of her sight.

  “I’ll be okay,” Simon said. “Like back at the building last night. I ran outside and got back before you all even knew I was gone.”

  “No, she’s right,” Michelle said. “Alone is too risky.”

  “We can’t leave you all alone either,” Simon said.

  “You two go,” Erik said, indicating Simon and Celia. “I’ll stay here with them. The doctor with his patients.”

  Simon looked at Erik nervously. It took Celia a second, but then she realized he was worried Erik would abandon Michelle and Stacy again and they’d be stuck.

  “I’ll stay here,” Erik said. “Even if I wanted to leave again, the only place I’d be able to go get a car is the same place you all are going, and you’d see me there.”

  Simon locked eyes with Michelle. After a second, the woman nodded at him, and Simon shrugged. “Okay,” he said
. “We’ll go.”

  “Take the walkie talkies out of the trunk,” Michelle said. “We’ll try not to use them unless there’s an emergency, but you never know.”

  Simon nodded and did as he was told. Celia stood by the car and watched, and for just a second, it occurred to her that she was almost happy. She was going to be alone with Simon, just the two of them doing their own thing. It was only for an instant before she realized her place and remembered the danger, but Celia was excited.

  Simon pulled out the walkie talkies, tucking one into his pocket and walking around Erik to hand the other to Michelle. He turned to Celia. “Ready?” he asked.

  Celia almost hopped but remembered herself and merely nodded. They started on their way to the parking garage. Celia did her best to look as solemn as the situation warranted.

  Still, she and Simon were going off together. That was scary because of the situation, but it was also invigorating. Those books she had always read described dates. She had never had one or even considered the possibility, but now she was running through the checklist in her head. Two young people interested in one another, check. Alone together, check. Kissing, maybe not, but she wouldn’t turn her nose up at it. Ignore the persistent threat of zombies around any and every corner, and she was comfortable calling it their first date, even if it was a short, tense one.

  A noise off in the distance snapped Celia out of her romantic thoughts. She and Simon both turned their attention toward whatever the noise was, but within a couple seconds they realized it was just another car on the road. Still, they sped up a bit.

  When they reached the parking garage, Celia hesitated. The road was easy. They could see in every direction for as far as they’d need to. This was different. This wasn’t romantic or exciting. This was scary. The garage was full of shadows. It had corners and nooks and small openings. She couldn’t see more than 30 to 40 feet at a time. She had a gun in her hand, an extra magazine in her pocket. This wasn’t a date.