Max and Bill chose food, both opting for granola and candy bars along with highly caffeinated drinks and then leaned up against the counter near the back of the store. Despite Stewart saying to keep it short she unfolded a map and participated as Max gave Bill a short synopsis of what they had been through since the zombie outbreak. It seemed like forever since Max had been sitting at his desk typing Bill an email, it was hard for all of them to believe it had only been about three weeks. Bill caught them up on what he had been doing since the outbreak too, however when he got to the part about the bridge collapsing his story turned a little vague.
“Hold up there Bill, you can't just say 'and the bridge collapsed and I have been cut off for the last four days' and leave it at that. A lot happens in four days. And you have been on the zombie side of the river the entire time.” said Stewart, “How have you been living? What happened and why couldn't you just swim across the river to safety?”
Slowly the man nodded and said, “Fair enough, I guess. Well when the bridge started to fall I managed to grab a hold of this bar and swing myself down and further into the river. I hit deeper water but I felt like I broke one of my legs anyway. It took about three seconds for me to realize this wasn't my biggest problem because the bridge started to come down on me. I tried to dive underwater and swim downstream, but something hit me on the head hard enough to daze me. I remember choking and sucking in dirty water, then choking some more. I felt like I was drowning, heck, I probably was. When I finally got into daylight I was about a half mile downstream, what was left of the bridge was barely visible around the curve of the river and I was still closer to the wrong riverbank. I almost yelled then, hell my leg was broken, I was choking on dirty river water and I was in pain. Then I caught sight of the zombies on the west side of the bank. They were moving north, towards where the bridge had been. They were not wandering, they were moving fast and with a purpose.”
“I clamped down on the pain and decided to swim the river to get back to my troops. I couldn't make it, I had too much pain in my leg and I kept going underwater when I tried to actively swim. So I decided to drift further downstream, moving just a little to try and get me closer to the far bank. There were a lot of zombies on the west side, I kept an eye on them and in a moment, as I watched, they all stopped and did an about face. Just like that, they turned and headed south. No words, no hand signals, one minute they were all moving quickly north, the next they turned and headed south. It freaked me out, like a bad horror movie where the monsters are connected together like some sort of hive mind.”
“So then what?” asked Max.
“I drifted under the highway twenty bridge and I could probably have gotten help then, but right when I was getting ready to yell the air force made another bombing run. I thought I was dead for certain, but I guess those boys know their stuff, none of the bombs dropped into the drink or onto the bridge. A lot of explosions went off just north of the bridge and the entire area was covered in a dense dust that blew over the river and cut me off from everyone else. I hated breathing that stuff, it left a very bad taste in my mouth and I am sure it was full of something toxic. I suppose I might get cancer in ten years, if I live through this. Anyway the river started curving west and I was drifting in close to that shore, close enough that I could grab the overhanging trees and branches. After a mile or so I was finally able to hold onto one of the damned things and pull myself close to the river bank, but not out of the water.”
“The problem was I couldn't see very far up the bank. I knew there was a path running along the side of the river that the zombies had been on, but I couldn't see it from where I was at, so I didn't know if any of them were there. I was as quiet as I could be, but the river was running pretty fast where I was at and I couldn't hear anything over the flowing water. I must have held on there for an hour before I decided to let go. I thought it through and figured there had to be a stream or some other waterway that came into the river eventually and if I could stay close enough to shore I should be able to pull myself up into an area where I could see my surroundings better.”
“You see I still wanted to live. And I really wanted to kill zombies. I think Max…” Bill broke into tears, and started sobbing.
Max leaned over and put his arm around his friend, “What Bill? What is it? You're with us now, together we will be fine. Stewart has bailed my ass out of the fire many times.”
Bill calmed down a little and wiped his arm across his eyes, “It isn't that. I don't worry about me. It is John, he never came back from when I sent him after the other squad. I was hanging on that branch and decided I didn't want to go back. How could I face Trish? Tell her I sent my son to his death? That he was eaten alive?” Bill cried again, but pulled himself together faster this time, Max left his arm around his friend and they sat quietly while he composed himself to go on. “So I let go. Funny thing though, I didn't get out at a stream, I drifted into a more populated area and people had docks out. The first one I got to had a ladder and on the south side. It wasn't a permanent dock, but a floating one that can be pulled in during the winter. There weren't any boats on it or I might have just crossed the river, even though I had decided not to go back. I thought it would be better for Trish to think John and I had died as heroes instead of me sending him off to die alone. I wanted revenge too, I admit it, I was angry and not thinking right. My leg was still hurting and I couldn't climb up the ladder, if I pulled up out of the water it was agony, even if I didn't put any weight on it. So I followed the dock to shore and pull myself half out of the water next to it. Looking at the dock I saw that it was supported by giant plastic floats and that I could probably crawl up between them onto shore without being seen. I eased back further into the water and then came back to shore between the floats. I wasn't the only one who had discovered this secret little hollow under the dock, some kids had made it into a little clubhouse, there were towels on the sandy dirt, a bag of opened chips, six juice boxes, some matches with a candle and a flashlight. I was able to get myself all the way out of the water and had just sat myself up against a cement pillar that the dock was attached to when two of them walked onto the dock above me.”
“I knew they were zombies because they were talking about me. One said he had seen me floating down the river, the other said he was crazy and didn't like being out in the open. Both of them went out onto the dock and I think they looked out into the river for me, when they didn't see anything they came back slowly and one spotted the area where I had half come ashore before. He said that was proof that there was human in the river and jumped down on the bank to look over the area. I was sitting stock still, praying he wouldn't see me, inevitably his eyes lifted and locked with mine. The one on the dock asked if he saw anything and as the one on shore started to answer the side of his head blew out onto the sandy grass beside him. The other one jumped off and started running and I heard another shot ring out. It was a sniper, of course, probably a for real army sniper not some guy with a twenty two because the zombie's head was…well missing for the most part. I knew we had a few sniper teams, but hadn't realized there were any around Sioux City. I owe whoever it was my life, because there was no way I could have defended myself right then. I mean what could I have done? Thrown a juice box at it? I devoured the stale chips and drank four of the juice boxes and then put my head down on a rolled up towel and fell asleep. There was no rush, I wasn't going back anyway.”
“Jesus Bill, what about Trish and the other kids? They still need you.”
“I know Max; I told you I wasn't thinking right.” Bill paused to take a long drink from his soda pop.
“Then what? Where'd you get the rifle?” asked Stewart.
“When I woke up the sun was in the east, low to the horizon. I had slept for almost twenty four hours. Sometime during the night I had rolled off of the towels and draped them on top of me for covers, everything was damp. My leg didn't hurt nearly so much either, it felt tender, more like a strain than a break. I checked myself over and found that I wasn't nearly as badly banged up as I had thought, I still had a scab on my head from where I got hit with the concrete from the bridge, but otherwise I felt good enough to find better shelter. First I drank the other two juice boxes and took a long piss in the river. My clothing was all soggy and smelled horrible, like I had been sweating all night. I eased back into the river and got out on the upstream side, only getting my pants wet in the process, it was a lot chillier once I was out of my hidey hole and the cool morning air was causing me to shiver. I had tucked the matches and candle into my shirt pockets, along with the flashlight. I had absolutely nothing useful with me otherwise, sure I had about twenty loose rounds of ammo for my army rifle, but no gun to fire it out of. The grenades I had on my belt were gone, as was my belt knife. Oh, I still had my army issue identification card, which isn't real useful for braining zombies either.”
“On the river bank I looked up at the house in front of me, it was set well back from the shore up a steep incline. The grass between me and the house was cut short and covered with morning dew. My paranoia was running pretty high because of how the zombie had seen where I came ashore the day before. I went back under the dock and climbed up the ladder instead of going ashore where I would leave tracks. My leg was aching, but held my weight. I got up on the dock and took the stairs and sidewalk up to the back door of the house so I
