Chapter One

Halloween, Saturday, 0958 hours

Headed eastbound on the Lake Ontario State Parkway, we’d just passed the Latta Road exit when the Humvee came to a stop. Moments later, rapid machine gunfire erupted.

“We’re not getting through,” the driver said. I heard what sounded like a gloved fist pound a steering wheel. I would have asked, but it wasn’t relevant.

“Make a path.” Didn’t need to see the Corporal to know he’d just checked the clip on his AK rifle, and smacked it back into place.

I missed my shovel. I don’t remember what happened to it, where I had left it. Or my hockey stick. I’d done some damage in the mall with that thing. Slap shot.

I opened my mouth. Allison set a hand on my shoulder, which was clearly a passive way to shut me up, no doubt. I allowed it for the time being.

The engine revved and the Humvee lurched forward. We went up and over things, with the bumps making us bounce inside. I don’t think the thing had shocks. The monster could climb over cars and boulders, but the engine protested with a long steady and loud whine.

“This isn’t going to work,” the driver said.

I sat facing the rear, staring at Dave and Sues. Dave’s eyes were wide, watching whatever unfolded out the front windshield. There was not enough room for me to turn and look, not with kids on my knees and Allison beside me. “What’s going on?”

“Can’t tell,” Dave said.

Out the side window, I saw zombies along the side of the road. They looked interested as they made their way toward us. The running ones were gunned down. The slow walking ones, ignored. The sound of the engine and the gunfire was what drew them at us in the first place. It was a Catch-22 if I had ever seen one.

“Must be obstacles in front of us,” Dave said. “Cars maybe.”

Cars, yes. Zombies, too, I’d bet. It felt like that might be what we crawled over, bodies, because I didn’t hear metal crumble and glass pop and shatter.

I heard the driver yell, “I’m not leaving the vehicle. We’ll get by this, through this, and be on our way.”

“I see it,” Dave said. “Couple of those eighteen wheelers, jack-knifed.”

“They’re not supposed to use this road,” I said.

“Well, okay, but that’s what’s out there. Two of them. At least. That’s about all I can see. One’s on its side.” Dave kept moving his head forward, back, side to side, as if it helped him see more out of the small front windshield or something. “And a ton of zombies. I mean, ton.”

I pursed my lips. The kids didn’t need to hear that. I could have kicked Dave in the shin. He deserved it, too. “They’ll get us through,” I said. I wanted to sound confident, the way a parent should. Comforting and confident.

Trouble was, I knew I didn’t because I wasn’t.

Cash cried. Not sobbed. His body didn’t shake. Tears just slid down his cheeks.

“We’re safe in here,” I said. “They are the military. They’re trained for this. They have guns and are skilled at using them. We’re going to get past this roadblock. They’re taking us somewhere safer, and far away from here.”

“Sit tight, everyone,” the Corporal said. He opened his door, hopped out of the Humvee. The driver did, too. I heard the hood pop open.

I had spoken far too soon, and freely. I looked like a liar. Can’t tell kids we’re getting out of here and a second later the driver gets out of the Humvee and pops the hood. It just detracts from the validity of every fucking thing you just said.

“The engine?” Allison said.

Dave nodded. “Looks like it.”

This wasn’t good. Couldn’t be. That engine hadn’t been screaming for attention long. No way could it give out so quickly. These things were built for battle, all terrain. Cruising over bodies shouldn’t have touched the mechanics of such a beast.

I don’t know how long we sat where we were with no one saying a word. We just stared at one another, waiting. I don’t think I thought about anything. I just stared, at Dave, Sues, my kids, and when I turned my head to the right, at Allison.

When the side door opened, the Corporal stood there. “We’re moving on foot. Let’s go.”

“Where are we headed? Don’t tell me it’s classified. Something happens to you, or your buddies, we need to know where to go. You owe us that,” I said.

“You called it. Coast Guard. Other side of the O’Rourke Bridge, over the Genesee, then down by the pier,” he said without an argument. He wore sunglasses, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt them, felt fear radiate from his entire facial expression.

I knew right where the Coast Guard station was; not because I was, or had been, a dispatcher for 9-1-1, but because I took my kids fishing in the area. Often. Filled a cooler with juice pouches, and sandwiches and chips. With those collapsible chairs, and coffees for the three of us, yes, all three of us, we’d head out early morning and fish off the edge into the river. Spend hours there. Catch a lot of perch and sunfish and carp, give them a kiss and throw them back in. They loved it. I loved it.

“Okay,” I said to everyone inside. “Let’s go. We stay close, together. Got it? Charlene, don’t let go of my hand.” I wasn’t putting Cash down. He was going up on my back, or in my arms, but not down.

We climbed out of the Humvee with the Corporal’s assistance.

We stood in front of the vehicle. The driver was on my left, the Corporal on my right, and the soldier that had manned the gun on top, took point.

I removed my backpack, which I had filled with supplies earlier at my apartment. Canned food, and clothing. A phone charger for Charlene’s cell. I wasn’t going to be able to keep it on my back. I swapped it out for my son. He sat up high, arms around my shoulders.

I read the name sewn on the man’s shirt: CORPORAL SPENCER.

“What’s in the bag?” Spencer said.

“Food. Clothes.”

“You don’t need it. We have supplies. Plenty.”

I didn’t just want to leave it. I removed the charger, stuffed it in my pocket. I tossed the bag against the Humvee. “You’re sure?”

“Positive, sir.”

“And what about us?” I said.

“Sir?”

“Guns. Give us your side arms. Something. You can’t--”

“You are not getting guns.”

“I never fired a gun,” Sues said. She wasn’t helping the argument. Hurt it, actually.

“Dave and I, we can shoot well.” It was partly a lie. I had no clue if Dave had ever seen a gun before. “You’ve got to give us something.”

“Can’t do that, sir. Stay inside the circle,” Spencer said.

They barked orders. Their weapons kept us covered. We moved from disabled vehicle to disabled vehicle. The soldiers checked inside each one. I don’t think they looked for keys. More than likely it was for zombies. Don’t want to hide with your back to a car that has more danger inside than what you faced outside.

Felt like square one to me. We stopped by the roof of a cargo van on its side. Two of the military guys peeked around an end, checking to see if the coast was clear.

“Why don’t you radio in for backup, for more help,” Dave said. His voice boomed with authority. He stood with one arm protectively wrapped around Sues’ shoulder. “I mean--if we’re just going across the bridge, help’s not far. Call them. Why don’t you just radio them?”

“We have, sir. We’re the first patrol this close to returning. The other two are still miles away,” Corporal Spencer said. His green fatigues did nothing to blend in with abandoned vehicles on a street.

“So there’s what? Three teams? Three?” I said.

Spencer looked at me. I hated the sunglasses now. “We need to move.”

“How many Border Patrol? Just the two in the helicopter? We talking about a rescue party of like what, eleven or twelve people?” I said. “Is that it?”