With all of the water the woman brought, it is obvious that she wasn’t planning on coming back anytime soon; William found at least six large bottles of tap water in the trunk, next to a suitcase crammed full of women’s clothes.
He went through it in the hopes of finding the keys for the car, checked it thoroughly.
Nothing.
As he climbed back onto the front seat, he made sure not to look down at the woman or her open skull. The stench was bad enough on its own; he didn’t need to see her as well.
He dozed off earlier, when the sun went down and the temperature began to drop as well. But he only slept for twenty minutes at a time, waking again and again at the sound of the zombies, plagued by half-dreams that the woman in the back turned out to be not really dead but still able to get up and attack him.
“It’s gonna be a long night,” William tells Ozzy. “And another long day tomorrow.”
Sharing the water with Ozzy, they’ll have enough to last several days.
William doesn’t want to hang around for that long, though. And his subconscious has already begun playing with dark thoughts. Thoughts of alternative endings. He still has other options than dying slowly from thirst, trapped in a car surrounded by zombies.
He could simply open the door.
It would be painful, but quick.
He couldn’t do that to Ozzy, though. Letting the dog see him getting eaten alive.
There was also the more offensive option of going out swinging. He could bring the rifle and just begin shooting. He could probably take at least a handful with him before they got him. The end result would be the same as the first scenario, though.
Then there was the last option.
The one he thought of as he went through the woman’s suitcase earlier. She had packed a carton full of cigarettes. The woman had obviously been a heavy smoker; if packing your essentials for going away forever included cigarettes, you obviously had a habit.
This also meant the woman must have had a lighter somewhere. William didn’t find it in the suitcase, which was probably a wise call by the woman, not putting something able to produce fire in with your last belongings.
Instead, she probably kept it in her pocket.
William could get it. All he needs to do is reach back and grope for it.
But he really doesn’t want to touch her. The thought scares the living hell out of him. It’s like touching her means running the risk of her waking up. It is absurd, of course. But his brain is already growing paranoid.
If he got the lighter, though, he could end things quickly and painlessly. He could light a fire inside the car, suffocating himself and Ozzy within minutes, putting them both gently to sleep.
Or, he could try and reach the gas tank. If he could get to it and light the fire there, it would all be over in a blink of an eye. Plus the added advantage of taking a dozen or so of the dead folks with him.
That might be his favorite choice.
He glances at his phone on the seat next to him.
Seven percentage left now.
Just enough for one last call.
He has been close to calling his mom several times, but what holds him back is that he has no idea what to say.
Should he pretend everything is fine? Should he just tell her he called to check in on her? Or should he be honest and break the bad news to her?
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t listen to his mom’s voice without breaking into tears. He didn’t want that to the last time she heard him speak.
So, he decided on a text message. Cheesy, maybe, but also a lot easier. Also, surprisingly easy to write. He typed it in earlier. Two short sentences.
Love you Mom. Take care of yourself.
It was on his phone right now, as a draft, waiting for him to hit send. He will do it right before the end. Making sure she doesn’t have time to call him once she reads the text.
William takes a deep breath. “So, buddy, what do you say? You want to wait until tomorrow? Or should we do it now? Get it over with while we still have the guts to do it?”
Ozzy eyes him intently in the mirror, trying to understand the words.
It’s insane of course that Ozzy will have to go out with him. The dog isn’t in any kind of actual danger; he could leave the car and walk right through the forest of dead people without them giving him a second look. He could go away and find food and shelter and a new best friend to take care of.
But William knows he won’t do that, even if William tried to force him. Ozzy would rather die than leave his side. Quite literally.
“I’m not sure I want to spend the night here,” William mutters, glancing out at the dead faces. “I won’t be able to sleep anyway.”
Besides, the guy in the window has shifted a little now, and William can’t reach him without risk of getting scratched by the others. The thought of the corpse being pushed aside while he slept would be enough for him not to get any sleep.
Maybe it was better ending it sooner rather than later. While he still felt relatively okay. While he still had the will power.
I could get the lighter at least.
The thought makes his stomach clench. Which just proves to him that it won’t be easier later on. So, he reaches his hand down, finds the woman and fumbles his way towards her pocket.
His fingers feel the fabric of her coat. Then they meet something cold and squishy, like oat meal someone dropped on the floor.
He
