Chapter 10

Some parts of the city still had power. The darker streets, like theirs, didn't quite empty, but with nightfall the dead had moved away, attracted to the distant lights. The street filled back up during the day Sometimes they seemed to be following the sounds of gunfire, but that couldn't explain it all.

Marla sighed and looked away from the window. She'd woken up screaming again, she'd screamed until she realized Eckert held her in his strong protective arms. Death wanted her, came to her every night in her dreams. Only ... she didn't want to go with him any more, The river held no relief for her. His boat would take her no place she wanted to go.

Her wrists were chafed and bleeding, it was the start of her seventh day in handcuffs. She welcomed the pain, it meant she was still alive, Eckert had taught her that. Watching him sleep, it was easier to believe he was only nineteen. She'd thought he was older than she was, just from the confidence he'd displayed in everything he did. And yet ... she suspected he was just as terrified as she was, but didn't let it show for her sake.

The room blurred. She wiped the tears from her eyes and tried not to think about what would have happened if he hadn't shown up. What might have happened if the blue van hadn't crashed. If Josito had been a little quicker, or his aim a little better. If she'd been a fraction of a second slower when Ray came back. If she'd missed the dead girl, or hadn't had the nerve to use the gun on Ray.

Marla peeked out the blinds again. Was anyone still alive out there? Not that she'd seen, but if someone had been watching this building, would they have been seen? She didn't think so. There could be survivors just across the street. There probably were survivors in the apartments. It had only been a week, there were hundreds of units in that complex, surely someone had the sense to lock their doors. Anyone that was still alive would be careful or lucky, probably both.

Machine gun fire echoed faintly over the rooftops, she noted the time and the direction she thought it came from in the logbook Eckert had started. It went on for about an hour and finally trailed off about three in the morning. By then the street below was crowded with the dead. Drawn by the gunfire, they milled around the wreckage and trickled past using the gap underneath the awning. When it was quiet again, they left gradually, drawn back to the lights far down the street. She wrote that down as well.

While she waited for dawn, she worked on a sort of diary Eckert had ordered her to keep. In it she wrote down all the details she could remember about what she'd seen the zombies do. How they acted when they weren't actively chasing someone, what they reacted to, everything. She'd already written down all the details she could on the gang, not what Josito had done to her, but what he'd taken from the store, his phone conversations, things like that. She suspected it was to keep her from brooding, but according to him, she had seen more of the zombies than anyone.

She woke him the same way. While they were joined together, all the fear left her. Blood dripped from her abused wrists as she moved and tore the scabs open, but the pain made it better, she felt more alive. They nearly missed the radio check.

It was brief, no news passed either way, just a request that they transmit a list of useful drugs during the next radio check. They checked the entrances, looked out all the windows and made notes. He took the time to study all the windows in all the buildings they could see, then had her look. No sign of anyone alive. One of her moccasins fell apart when they made their rounds after the noon check in. Eckert retied it for her and they finished their checks.

Back in their room, he peered out the window for a long time. "What's your shoe size?"

"Ten," The response came without thinking. A chill ran down her spine. "Why?" He didn't answer. "Why? Please tell me..."

"There aren't any of them on that half of the street. I could get into that shoe store without being seen, pick you up some boots."

"You promised not to leave me behind."

"Cover me from the window."

Marla shook her head. "Not with a pistol, and I've never fired a rifle like yours. Not sure I could like this." She clinked handcuffs together to demonstrate. "Don't leave me alone again, please. I don't think I could take it."

"It should be pretty safe." distant gunfire punctuated his sentence. "Well ... fairly safe. Here's what I'm worried about. Last night there were hundreds of them out on the road. It might be a few days before they can come get us, no telling what might happen before then. Those so called shoes I made aren't going to last much longer, and if they come apart while we're running..."

"You said they have a bus..."

"Yeah, a couple of vehicles we could use, but if those things out there get as thick as they did last night, they couldn't just pull up. We'd have pull them away with a diversion, might have to use the back doors instead. I won't leave you alone, but if it looks safe, we'll try it."

Marla didn't like the idea, but it made a lot of sense, and she couldn't stand the thought of him leaving her behind. Besides, it wasn't like he'd actually asked her. He'd promised to keep her alive, and needed her help to do it. That was enough for her, stripped to the bare essentials, she trusted him. If anyone could keep her alive, he could.

He had her write down all the info his unit had asked for. She made a list of antibiotics, painkillers and anything else she could think of. While she did, he packed up most of the food, and cooked what was left over the Sterno. He brought it over before she was done "Eat up, this is the last of the soup. I figure we have enough for two more days, then we're down to candy bars and chips."

He reported in, no one would come for them tonight. The kid on the radio thought that probably they could the next afternoon. Eckert reminded him they only had two days of food left, then transmitted the list of drugs and supplies Marla had written out. He shut off the radio and stood up.

The machine guns still fired in the distance, but there wasn't any visible activity on the street below. Eckert parted the blinds, and studied the scene carefully. "I don't see any of them out there." He said. "Let's go downstairs and check it out."

He packed everything up and led her downstairs. It was fairly difficult for her to get past the barricade. She had to balance herself with her cuffed hands and walk sideways down the outside of the steps. He crept silently into the entryway. Marla followed him, almost as quietly. He took his time, looking out both the vertical windows in the front door. He used a little mirror on a telescoping rod to get a better angle on the glass, then opened the door just a crack.

He extended the rod and used it to check right around the door, "Clear," he said, "follow me close, just like before." Five quick steps saw them across the sidewalk and into the shadow of the boxy trailer. He crouched by the tires, signaling for her to watch the street to the right. Nothing moved on their block. Farther down, a few of the dead wandered around some stalled cars. Eckert scanned under the truck then led her forward.

The front of the truck was only yards from the shattered door of the shoe store. A few razor sharp stalactites hung from the metal frame, those and the crossbar were all that was left. Two zombies rounded the corner, only sixty or seventy feet away. She nudged Eckert's back with her elbow, and pointed with the barrel of her pistol.

He inhaled sharply, but didn't say a word, just grabbed her collar and pulled her through the door, under the crossbar. One of them sounded that awful hunting moan she'd heard before, the one filled with primal hunger. The world spun again. Her mind flashed back to the police car, and a spike of fear ran through her. Then she was backed up into a corner. Eckert's eyes locked hers with a piercing gaze. She couldn't look away, even if she'd wanted to. "Don't move," he ordered, "watch the door and the back, but don't shoot unless you have to."

All her fear vanished. It wasn't gone, but banished from her conscious mind by his dark brown eyes. She was going to live a long time, he'd promised her. If she did what he told her, everything would be alright. She held the comforting thought in her heart as he turned away without even waiting for a response.

He gave each aisle a quick glance, then turned down the last one. Moments later she spotted him coming her way from the back door. He signed for her to watch the door and disappeared again. One of the dead, a teenage girl in shorts with fragments of a halter top dangling from her neck, lurched into the store. One of her breasts was mangled, half eaten. Chunks were missing from one of her legs as well.