Race to Refuge

Chapter 21: Charlie

The figure in front of us wasn't a zombie but a middle-aged man wearing a button-down shirt and khaki pants. His clothes were stained and wrinkled. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy but not empty like the zombies' eyes were. And his mouth wasn't as slack as the zombies' were, either. But he was stumbling around just like he was infected. Then I figured it out.

"Drunk as a skunk," I murmured to Ty.

The man didn't seem especially worried about Ty and me, despite the knives we were holding. He gazed at us and then said in a thick and slurring voice, "Thanks for getting me in here, guys. I'm Trent."

I lowered his knife. "No problem. Looking for something, are you?"

Trent shrugged and seemed to concentrate very hard on sitting down. "About to run out of booze. Can't face the end of the world sober, you know."

I sat down near Trent but Ty wasn't as excited about hanging out with him. Instead, he walked over to the front door and locked it as best he could. At least a zombie wouldn't be able to figure out how to make it through. I'd been so intent on our quick foray that I couldn't believe I'd been sloppy about locking the door. And it would have been nice to have brought a gun inside, too. Next time I wouldn't be so slack.

I said, "Who else is left in this town? Have you been able to get out and assess the situation?"

This man looked like he wasn't really able to even assess his own situation. He said, "Nobody here."

Ty gave a shiver and I couldn't help but agree with him. The idea of this being some sort of little ghost town was pretty creepy.

"Nobody at all?" asked Ty. "Are you sure?"

The man turned in his chair to look at Ty and nearly fell out of it. "Nobody alive. Just those infected dead people."

"Why haven't you left?" Ty still lingered near the door.

The man shrugged again. "No point. I'd have to keep running. If there are zombies here in this town, there are zombies in all the towns. That means I'd have to keep going from place to place to find supplies and escape infected people." He stopped talking, shaking his head. Then he put a hand to his forehead like it hurt.

I said in my most authoritative voice, "There's a better plan. You could come with us."

The man looked at me unsteadily and then gave a short laugh. "Right. Because you're not running."

"I'm getting Ty connected with family in a retirement community. That might be a good option since they would have food and rooms and living areas. Then I'm going to head out into the woods or another rural area and set up there. I can do some small-scale farming and hunting. You can come along."

The man gave me a scornful look. "And that's a life?"

I frowned at him. "Better than getting drunk and waiting to be infected."

"Says who?" Trent's eyes were suddenly exhausted. "What have I got to live for? My family has been infected. I'm guessing that my friends are, too. My life wasn't even all that great before this happened, and it sure hasn't gotten better now."

Usually, I was a pretty chilled out guy. Everyone always said how laid back I was. But this guy's hopelessness really got to me. He'd basically just thrown in the towel and given up—on the very first week of the zombie apocalypse. And, for whatever reason, there was just something in my genetic makeup that couldn't leave this alone.

"Look, it's way too early in this crisis to just give up hope," I said briskly. "Join up with Ty and me."

But my persuasive speech was cut off. Ty leapt back away from the door when suddenly there were loud thumps and knocks at the other side, along with a rattling of the doorknob. Mojo whined, ears back, tail down.