Sven the Zombie Slayer (13 page)

33

Sven and Jane drove for a while and said nothing. They were too shocked to speak.

The roads were littered with cars—cars and the shambling infected. Sven was forced to drive slowly because of all the cars, and milling infected people, stumbling and reaching for Sven’s car when it passed.

The infected people’s resemblance to television zombies was striking, too strong for Sven to ignore. They were in a plague movie, he was sure of it.

He drove on the shoulder most of the time, and even that part of the road was interspersed with cars facing in all directions, making it necessary to zigzag all over the road to make progress in a single direction. The fastest Sven was able to drive was 25 miles per hour, and he could only maintain that speed for short stretches at a time.

Most of the infected that Sven passed were still in their cars. They sat there, bumping against their doors, ostensibly attempting an escape, and apparently having forgotten how car doors work. When Sven drove past, the trapped infected stirred, becoming more animated in their struggling, as if Sven’s passage had given them greater purpose to escape—to pass along their illness to Sven.

The infected that were in the road, out of cars, staggered and lurched in no ascertainable direction, at least until Sven drove closer. When he passed them, they too reacted to the car, beginning to follow after it until they vanished in Sven’s rearview mirror.

Jane broke the silence.

“What the hell is going on here? I mean
what the hell?
”

Sven looked over at her, then turned back to the road. He knew exactly what was going on.

“They’re zombies,” Sven said, as if it were the plainest thing in the world.

“What?”

“Zombies, you know, like in the movies. They’re undead, walking dead, you know, zombies, monsters, trying to get us.”

“What? Zombies? Are you crazy? There’s no such thing as zombies. What is wrong with you? That was—that was my friend and she…she’s sick, that’s all, and…”

“Calm down. I’m not trying to make light of it or anything. That’s just what’s going on. I don’t know why, but they’re trying to get us, and I’m going to stay alive.”

For a few minutes, Jane said nothing. Then she said, “There’s gotta be a better explanation than that.”

She reached for the radio and tried to tune it. She couldn’t find any stations that weren’t static, but went on fiddling with the knob anyway.

“I mean,” Sven said, “it’s probably some kind of virus, a disease. It’s spreading and making people sick and rabid or something. How else do you explain the attempted biting?”

“Why don’t we have it? Do we have it?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t been bitten for one thing, right?”

“Right.”

Sven was relieved Jane’s flesh was still intact. “Beyond that, I don’t know. It might be in the air for all we know, or radiation or something. If we can outrun it, get away from it, hide from it, that’s what we need to do.”

Jane pointed to the other side of the road. “Look.” Sven followed her finger and saw there was a car moving there—not just moving, but being driven. Sven slowed and rolled his window down. He honked the horn and waved at the other car. The car didn’t stop, or even slow down.

“Maybe they’re in a bad mood,” Sven said. “We’re better off on our own anyway.” Sven sped the car up again, and was driving as fast as he could while avoiding the stopped cars and walking infected.

Ivan meowed and looked up at Jane. “He remembers you,” Sven said.

As if on cue, the cat jumped into Jane’s lap and purred. Sven looked over as Jane scratched Ivan behind the ears.

“Yeah,” Jane said. “I remember him too.” She wiped at her face. “Sven? Where are we going?”

“We need to stock up on supplies—food, water, weapons, gas—and then we need to find a place where we’ll be safe. Somewhere not very residential. I figure the worst place is around the University, with all the kids that live close to it. We’ll drive north on 29, get supplies, and find somewhere to hole up until this whole thing blows over.”

Jane seemed to consider this for a while. “Why did you say we’ll do better on our own?”

Then a loud, shrill noise pierced through the car, and Jane screamed.

34

Lorie was running hard, feeling her lungs filling with power and propelling her away from the terrible scene she’d just witnessed.

Lorie knew she was a great runner for her age. Or at least she knew that was what the track coaches always told her. She did feel like a great runner when she ran—the sense of surroundings flashing past, the air rushing against her, and her body working at its hardest all made her feel so alive. Whether or not she was as great as they said, she loved it.

Glancing over her shoulder, Lorie saw that Evan was far behind her, clearly having trouble keeping up with her pace.

“Come on,” Lorie said, glancing back at Evan. “You have to run a little faster. You can do it. We’re almost there.”

Lorie slowed down to let Evan catch up, and then he was alongside her, panting hard and flailing his arms inefficiently as he ran.

He barely managed to choke a few words out in between gasps and gulps for air. “I can’t keep up. I need to stop.”

“We’ll rest when we’re somewhere safe. We’re almost there, we just have to get away. Come on Evan.”

“I’m trying.”

They kept running down
Barracks Road
toward Route 29. There were stopped cars everywhere, and—and the sick people were in them, moving and wriggling like snakes trying to get out. It was like they didn’t remember how to get out, though, and once Lorie had realized that she felt a lot safer, though still not very safe. Most of the people who would be out would be in their cars—
Charlottesville
was a driving town. A few of the sick people were on the street, but they were so slow that Lorie and Evan could easily run around them, and Lorie realized they would be alright so long as they stayed far away from the sick people and didn’t run into a big group of them…or became disoriented like what had happened earlier.

Lorie didn’t know what was happening, but she thought she knew a safe place that she and Evan could go.

They were almost there.

35

Ivan got up on his hind legs and licked Jane’s face. Sven hit a button on his watch, turning the alarm off.

“Can that thing be any louder?” Jane asked, visibly irritated. She was rubbing her eyes and petting Ivan at the same time. “You late to an appointment or something?”

“Sorry,” Sven said. “That’s my protein alarm. It rings every two hours.”

“Your what? I don’t remember you having a protein alarm.”

“Yeah, I didn’t back then. I’m more serious now. The alarm goes off every two hours, to remind me to have protein.”

Jane let out an exasperated sigh and stopped petting Ivan. “Are you serious? Stuff like that is why we didn’t work out. What kind of person thinks about protein when the world is ending? And why do you need reminding about protein? Isn’t that all you eat anyway?”

“I eat other things. It’s a reminder to have protein at regular intervals, so that my muscles don’t start to break down. Otherwise my body will eat its own muscle, you know that...it’s how I get work. And what’s wrong with thinking about that, even now? I don’t plan on dying, and eating at regular intervals can only increase our chances of making it through, keeping our energy up.”

“I think there are bigger things to think about than protein and muscle right now, that’s all.”

Sven sighed and didn’t answer. He looked at the road and tried to gather his thoughts. Taking one hand off the steering wheel, he reached over to pet Ivan. The simple movement sent a stretching, burning sensation across Sven’s chest and up his neck. He drew his hand back and put a tentative finger to his wound. He flinched. It hurt worse than before.

After a few minutes, Jane said, “I’m sorry, I know you just saved my life, I guess I’m freaking out, and it’s you and me, and all these things.”

“I know,” Sven said. “Can you hand me a protein bar? They’re in the backpack.”

“Sure,” Jane said. Her voice was calmer now, sweeter, obviously trying to make up for her previous outburst. She found the protein bar in the backpack, opened it, and handed it to Sven, who was waving his hand around toward her, grasping for the bar.

“I need to try to eat. I got hurt kinda bad this morning when…well, I think we’ve had similar enough mornings. It’s not a good day to start off injured.”

Sven took a bite. The chocolate peanut butter bar was chewy and filling, and unusually tasteless.

Jane looked over at him. “Are you alright?”

The pain was getting worse, and Sven wondered when he’d next be able to see a doctor about it. “I’ll be fine.”

Jane went back to petting Ivan, whose happy purring filled the car. If it weren’t for the gruesome, unambiguously apocalyptic scene through which they were driving, Sven and Jane could’ve been mistaken for a happy couple driving to a happy picnic, with a happy cat in tow.

36

She had to run away, what else could she do? It was run away or get bitten. Lorie wasn’t even sure if the people back in the house were still her parents, if the people around her were still people. They looked more like movie monsters than people now. They were saggy, deflated, and lifeless…and where were the ambulances and police? Where were the authorities to help?

Evan was with her, so that helped. She knew they were doing the right thing by getting away.

Then Evan was tugging at her arm, trying to get her to slow down again. Lorie looked at him. He looked so pale and out of breath. Obliging him, she slowed down to a walk and Evan gave her some grateful nods in between his gulps for air. They were close to Route 29 now, and none of the sick people were in sight, so Lorie figured it might be alright to walk for a bit and let Evan recover.

“Where are we going?” Evan asked when his breathing had become less ragged.

“To my coach’s house. She’ll know what to do. She always knows what to do. She’s just across 29. We’re almost there.”

“Why do you think she’ll know what to do? What if—what if she’s just like the others now?”

Lorie shook her head violently. “No, she’s fine. She wouldn’t be like that. I know she’s fine, okay? We’ll be safe there.”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should try to find some police. Or hide. Yeah, maybe we should hide until people come to help.”

“No. We can’t hide. Don’t you see how the…how they come after us when we pass, they’re gonna get us if we hide. I know it. We have to get to my coach’s house, she’ll know what to do, and she’ll keep us safe.”

Evan coughed. “What’s happening? Do you think it’s like a cold or something and they’ll get better?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

Lorie and Evan walked the rest of the way to the intersection of
Barracks Road
and Route 29 in silence.