My Dead World 3 Read online

  Lev touched my coat. “Why does this coat feel hot?”

  “It’s a heated jacket. Battery in the back. It’s freaking awesome. I picked it up at the sporting goods store.”

  “That’s almost like cheating the winter.”

  “Yeah, it is,” I said with a partial smile. “You know, when Ben and I were out today we didn’t see any of them. None. Well, none walking.”

  “We didn’t see any yesterday either.”

  “The ones we saw the other day, they were so slow, some were falling apart.” I shook my head. “I wasn’t even a little scared. They weren’t a threat.”

  “Don’t underestimate them,” Lev said. “Remember how Cade got bit? One of them on the floor of the pharmacy.”

  “That’s true. But the fast ones, the really mobile ones, they’re gone.” I looked at him. “Do you think it’s over?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean. Maybe we became the new Canada and we’re infection free. Everyone who got it is gone. What do you think?”

  “I think we can hope. I would like to believe so. But truthfully, it’s probably only a pause, because as long as this virus is out there in some way, shape, or form…” Lev said. “It will never be over.”

  THE NOW

  NINE

  SOMEWHERE ELSE TO BE

  May 1

  Where were they?

  The days of winter drew to an end, and I even believed that Lev was ready to leave.

  It didn’t take long for us to discover what cabin fever was truly like.

  We’d secured what supplies we could in the floorboard storage. By the first of April, with no direction but south, we had packed up the station wagon and along with Fleck on the motorcycle, we left the cabin.

  I did so with every intention of going back, not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t want to feel defeated if things didn’t turn out. In my mind I could always justify it as I never meant to stay away from the cabin anyhow.

  The wagon was crowded, but we didn’t want to chance depending on a second full-size vehicle only to not be able to fuel it up.

  So we stopped…a lot. With two children, one of which was nearly a year old, we had to.

  Many times it was overnight. We were in no rush. But still, not once did we run into an infected or deader.

  We also didn’t run into many people. A person here or there. Twice we ran into a small group. We didn’t interact much or stay with them. We just exchanged information and knowledge. One of the groups had been to Canada and left just as the virus broke out there. They told us they were searching for something called The Colony. They’d heard about it when they were in Canada. It was supposed to be a city in the US that had restructured and rebuilt. Things were normal there or at least the way normal used to be.

  The other group had no intention of leaving the place they called home. A small trailer park in West Virginia where they had started their own farm. There were twelve people.

  Of course, Lev liked them and said they had the right idea.

  I believe the lack of seeing infected or many people was because we never once went near a major city and avoided major roadways at all cost.

  Still, I placed in my mind that it was over. The outbreak, the dead…over. It had been a year. My God, an entire year had passed since a huge part of my life had been taken away. While the hole still remained in my heart and soul, it was time to move on, to rebuild.

  Maybe we could find The Colony, or whatever it was.

  We did, however, find a man named Westin Hiller. He was our gold mine.

  He was sitting outside of the Cobb Corner Police Station as we passed through the one stoplight town of Cobb Corner in the southernmost part of Virginia. The sign just before town boasted a population of six hundred and three. Somehow that was probably inaccurate.

  Westin was an older gentleman, but stout and strong looking. He wore a pair of blue jeans, a clean T-shirt, sunglasses and sat with his rifle perched across his lap.

  He waved from his chair. Not flagging us. Just waving as if we were tourists passing through.

  Fleck was in the lead and stopped first, then we did.

  His introduction to us was a, “Holy Cannoli, look at you folks piling out of that wagon.”

  And in the first few minutes of meeting him we learned he had been the chief of police at one point, before everything went to hell, and there were fourteen people still living in the sprawled-out community.

  We also learned the big strong man hadn’t lost his humanity or heart as he facially crumbled, eyes glossing over when he saw Christian. He asked to hold him, then cradled him like a child he hadn’t seen in a long time. I didn’t need to ask why he reacted that way. It was obvious.

  It was also obvious that our next place to spend the night was going to be right there in Westin’s town.

  He told us we were welcome to stay as long as we wanted, and that everyone did their part to keep the town going.

  The kids were tired from traveling, and Bella took them to the tiny park. Fleck took guard, even though Westin assured us there were no Ragers and hadn’t been any for months.

  “Even in a small town like Cobb,” Westin said. “We seen it. We lost a lot early on because people were trying to go somewhere, anywhere, and would take the secondary highways, like you folks. I should have shut us down.” He shook his head. “We tried to help.”

  “I’m a doctor,” Ben said. “I don’t know if you have one, but I would be happy to help while I’m here if someone needs it.”

  Weston’s eyes lit up. “You’re really a doctor?”

  Ben nodded. “I am.”

  “Well, we have about three people who will be happy to hear that. We’ve been at a loss. Bryers has a nasty cough he just can’t shake. There’s a bigger pharmacy in the next town. I can take you.”

  “Well let’s see what I need first,” Ben said.

  I loved Ben. He was such a kind and gentle man. Every time he did something good or acted kind, I saw where Cade had gotten it from.

  With a wave of his hand, Westin took us to the station. “Gonna radio them to get them closer. They can make it to you for treatment,” he said.

  He led us up a flight of stairs, then to what I thought was the mayor’s office because of the name on the door. Then we walked in.

  More than likely because it was the best room in the house and on the second floor, Westin and his people had transformed it into some sort of radio room. There was one main radio, a big one and a bunch of smaller ones. A huge map of the United States hung on the wall. It was so huge it looked like wallpaper.

  A younger man sat in a swivel chair and turned when we walked in.

  “Carl, these folks are with that motorcycle you heard coming,” Westin said. “This is Nila and Ben. He’s a doctor.”

  Carl shook our hands.

  “I wanna get the word out that we have a doctor here if anyone needs him. And this is…” Westin snapped his finger and pointed at Lev. “Didn’t get your name.”

  “Lev,” he answered.

  “Lev?” Westin asked. “What’s that short for?”

  “Levon.”

  “Spelled like the song.”

  “Yes.”

  “Man of few words.”

  I laughed. “Sorry. No, he’s not. Just around new people. Don’t get him started.”

  Lev cast a glare my way. I turned my head and really looked at the map. There were markings all over it. Red and blue, and occasionally black Xs.

  “What is this?” I asked. “What are the areas that are marked?”

  “Life. People that passed through and people we communicate with. The Xs are areas that were once alive but now…they’re gone,” Weston replied.

  Lev walked to the map. “Presley, West Virginia. We ran into people that are settled there.”

  “Excellent.” Weston lifted a marker and gave it to Lev. “Just color it in.”

  “Have you heard of something called The Colony?”
I asked.

  “You know…people have asked and I don’t know what to tell them. I know what it’s supposed to be,” Westin said. “But no place called The Colony has reached out to us. We’re on the radio a lot. I was wondering if they meant Key West. But it’s not a major city. The Colony is supposed to be some major city the military went into about nine months ago, cleaned house, and started securing it and walling it in.”

  Ben whistled. “Can’t be that big of a major city. Wall it all in? Cordoning it off would take a lot of effort.”

  “Unless,” Lev said, “it’s a ‘back against the wall’ type. Like on a lake—that would mean one whole side is already taken care of. Or a river.”

  “Pittsburgh,” Westin said. “That would be easy to do. Cut off the bridges and you only need one wall. Straight across, through the city river to river.”

  “Wouldn’t that be funny for us,” I commented. “Considering we’re from there. And headed to the mountains.”

  “We bypassed it on the way south,” Lev said. “All the major cities.”

  “Probably why no one could see it,” Westin said.

  “Well, how are they filling it?” Ben asked. “If no one can find it or knows where it is?’

  “Maybe you don’t find it,” Westin replied. “Maybe they find you.”

  “That would have to be the way it is,” Lev said. “They’re not broadcasting. We did hear Florida has parts that are good.”

  “They do,” Westin replied. “Some more cautious than others about who travels there. You have places where people kinda just stopped and settled. No real community. Then you have places like Key West that has law and order.”

  “The Keys?” I asked.

  Westin nodded. “They were hit pretty bad. They shut down the road once they got it under control. Now they’ll let you in, but they have a vigorous check-in system to make sure no one brings it back. Then again, Canada did too. How it got it, I don’t know.”

  I looked at Lev.

  Westin must have noticed the expression on my face. “What?”

  “Keys are out for us,” I said. “We went to Canada.”

  “I was pretty adamant they should go,” said Ben. “One of our group had been bit early on in the outbreak, got sick, but never turned. I thought for sure he’d be a shot at a cure.”

  “They killed him,” I said. “Right in front of his kid. No hesitation. They just shot him. And…and…” I glanced again at Lev. “My daughter was bit as well last year. She didn’t get sick and didn’t turn. They almost killed her, too, had Lev not jumped in.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Westin said. “I heard Canada was really stringent. I heard about the execution laws.”

  “You kind of understand them,” I said. “Until it happens to you. So the Keys are out for us.”

  “Maybe not. Carl, get them on the radio,” Westin instructed. “Let’s find out.”

  Carl put out the radio call, and a few minutes later spoke to a woman named Gloria. She told him if the bite mark was healed and scarred over, there wouldn’t be an issue. And even if there was, they certainly didn’t have the execution rules.

  I was relieved to hear that but was still uncertain.

  “Do you have a destination?” Westin asked.

  Lev shook his head. “We’re looking. Hell, we don’t even have a list of what qualifies as a good place. I guess we’ll know when we find it.”

  “Fresh water and safety would be one,” Westin said. “Whatever you’re searching for, I hope you find it. Because you need to find a place and stop.”

  “Isn’t movement life?” I asked.

  “No.” Westin shook his head. “At least I didn’t think so. When you settle, you take root. Roots mean growth, growth is life. At least that’s what I think.”

  Lev gave me an ‘I told you so’ glance. He remembered our arguments about movement being life.

  “You know there’s a place that’s not bad. Marco Island.” Westin walked to the map and pointed to it. “It’s easily accessible. There’s people there. You may not see them because they’re scattered about, but we radio them often. And if you change your mind, you can always head to the Keys because Key West is taking people in all the time. Heck, if you can boat, boat there. They have checkpoints at their piers.”

  “I can boat,” Ben said. “Been a boater all my life.”

  It actually sounded like a semi plan.

  Westin showed us around town while Ben examined half the residents that showed up at the police station with questions about their health.

  Cobb Corner was a good stop. A good place, and much to Lev’s dismay we only stayed a week, promising that we’d stay in touch.

  I did however, go to the back of the wagon and retrieve the registration list of names I had found in Canada. I figured since Westin was in contact with so many people, he’d be the best one to have that list.

  Staying in contact was the way Westin was able to keep information flowing and a way to know the world was still going.

  And by the looks of the map, even if it was a minuscule fraction of what it used to be, the world was still surviving.

  TEN

  SETTLED

  May 9

  Westin stayed with us. Not in the physical sense, but we learned a lot from him.

  He and Cobb Corner were vital in the decision and direction we took. We got to know each and every one of them during our stay. They made us feel at home, and when we left they gave us food packs and juice.

  Fleck was probably the biggest proponent for going all the way to Florida. The whole trip was bringing back memories for him of after the original outbreak. Fleck and his group had migrated north and now he was returning home. When Westin mentioned the place where there were people, Fleck’s eyes lit up.

  “My grandparents lived in Naples,” he said. “I know the place well.”

  It was settled. It was a destination.

  We couldn’t get to the actual island part with the nifty ports and resorts. There had been a lot of flooding there, at least that’s what we were told. Our welcoming committee was a man in a flowered shirt, holding a case of beer and walking from the beer distributor.

  “Coming, going, or passing through?” he asked as he approached our car.

  “Not passing through,” Lev answered. “Actually, we want to ground ourselves for a while. Westin from Cobb told us about this place.”

  “Aw, good old Westin. The ears of the world. Well if he sent you, he probably radioed.”

  “I believe he did. He mentioned Marco Island.”

  “You’re in Marco city. The island was flooded last week and is still dangerous to get to.”

  “Is there someone in charge of your group?” Lev asked.

  “Um, not really,” he answered. “People kind of do their own thing. Except our radio woman. She lives at the Wave RV resort. Why, what’s up?”

  “We just wanted to get situated somewhere. He”—Lev pointed to Fleck—“has family in the area. He wanted to go to their home.”

  “I see. Well, a lot of people left. About seventy-five percent of the boats left the port. They may have gone.”

  “They’re elderly.”

  The guy shrugged. “Still. Old don’t mean dead now does it.”

  I leaned over Lev. “Speaking of dead, have there been any lately?”

  “Not around here. I haven’t seen them since winter. It’s as if they migrated like birds.”

  “Are there campgrounds around here anywhere?” Lev asked.

  There Lev went, gravitating to a campground. His comfort zone, I suppose.

  “Actually, there’s a KOA RV campground with cabins about seven miles from here,” he said. “A few people settled there. The whole place isn’t cleaned up. You’ll have to clear your own spot, but that’s a good starting place. Less mayhem there when the shit hit.”

  “We appreciate it.” Lev got out of the car and walked to Fleck. I could see them speaking but couldn’t hear what they were sayin
g.

  It had something to do with a campsite, I was sure of it. When Lev returned we followed Fleck.

  “We never got his name,” I said to Fleck.

  “No, we didn’t.”

  “It was a little rude of us,” Ben said. “At least we thanked him. That was a good thing.”

  “So was not getting his name,” Bella said.

  I turned to the back seat when she said that. “What do you mean?”

  Bella shrugged, talking as she looked down to the baby. “Not because we don’t want to know names or get close because people were dying, but because it means the world is going back to normal. We’re going back to not caring who a person is.”

  I watched as Katie poked Bella’s arm and whispered, “I don’t think she really cared before.”

  My eyes widened and I spun back around in my seat.

  Lev looked at me with a twitch of his head. “She’s your daughter.”

  <><><><>

  Fleck was a pretty strong man emotionally. But at times I thought maybe it was his way of handling things—convince others he is strong to cover any weakness that stirred inside. Been there, done that, I am that.

  Although I knew I was finally on my way to healing, Fleck was about to face something that could set him back.

  His grandparents’ home.

  He was with me when I returned to my own home and my father’s house, so I wanted to be there for him.

  I remembered the feeling of walking into my old home, the way the memories of a good life came flooding back. How I ached and longed for one more dinner around our kitchen table. One more end of the month worrying about how we were going to pay bills because I had quit another job or had taken days off. Robbing Peter to pay Paul so we had enough available credit for Christmas.

  Life wasn’t easy at times. We weren’t rich, far from it, but life was good.

  It was different going to Fleck’s grandparents’ home. He told me that. They had only bought it ten years earlier, and his grandmother lived there, often alone, until his grandfather had retired.

  It wasn’t the memories of a childhood home he sought but the essence of a grandparent’s love.