Sorrow's Gift

Chapter Twenty-Six: Crash

The gate that had stood between them and the outside world lifted, bringing with it the first rays of sunshine Crash had seen in days.

He squinted, looking out at the block he'd lived on for the past four years.

The street outside the apartment was still littered with the corpses of the dead they'd killed on their way inside. They were starting to stink, not that anything could compare to the way the inside of his apartment smelled right now.

He'd never been more disgusted in his life. There was no way they could stay in that hell-hole now. After only a few days together in safety, they were being forced to leave, but he figured it was just as well. Between the fire and the hordes of zombies headed their way, it was better to get out as early as possible and try to find a new place to hide out until they had a better plan.

Parrish and Noah loaded more of the supplies into the back, but space was limited. Crash had hoped they'd be able to carry more, but with five people and all their gear, they were going to have to get creative about loading the rest of the supplies.

He should have rigged a way to strap them to the top of the vehicle. Why hadn't he thought of that?

There was no telling what things would be like outside the city. From the videos he'd watched, most places had gotten looted pretty hard, everyone scrambling to get water and food before the entire world went to hell. Supplies would be limited out there, so they were lucky to have the food, water, and ammunition he'd managed to get his hands on before the virus made an appearance.

Still, it wouldn't last forever. They'd have to be careful not to use it up too fast. Or have it stolen by some kind of raiding party on the road. People out there would be desperate and scared, and that could mean some pretty ugly encounters with survivors.

Not to mention the undead.

Luckily, the streets here in the Trinidad section of D.C. were quiet this morning. The fire from the explosion the other night had forced hordes of rotters out of their hiding places, so he'd been afraid they were going to see a lot of them today, but so far, so good. If they got going in the next half hour, they might be able to get out of town without too much trouble.

"That's the last of it," Noah said, coming to stand behind him at the gate. He jogged into the street and picked up the shotgun he'd dropped there a few days earlier. "It doesn't look too bad out here, does it?"

"I've seen a few stragglers on the cross streets," Crash said, "but it's surprisingly quiet."

"What about the roads out of town?" Parrish asked. "On the way into the city, there were some ugly pileups and traffic jams that made it impossible to stick with my mom's car. We had to abandon it a lot sooner that I'd hoped."

"I've got a few possible routes mapped out," Crash said. "I'm bringing my best two laptops and my GPS, too, so that should help us if we get into any trouble with finding a way out. We can't afford to lose the Humvee and get stranded on foot."

"Do you need anything else from inside?" Noah asked. "I think we're all about ready to go."

"I'll do a final check and get the girls," he said. "You guys go ahead and get inside. We'll meet you out here in a few minutes."

Crash walked down the stairs to his apartment for the last time, his stomach tense and his heart heavy. This had been his home since shortly after his mom died and left him on his own. He'd created a life for himself here, and an identity separate from anyone and anything else he'd ever known. It wasn't going to be easy to leave it all behind.

"You ladies about ready?" he asked when he walked into the apartment. The stench of dead rats made the idea of leaving a lot more enticing. Holy crap, it smelled in there. He was surprised Karmen had spent more than five minutes there after what had happened.

"Are there a lot of rotters on the streets?" Karmen asked.

She seemed different this morning. Vulnerable and maybe even, dare he think it, nice.

"Only a few here and there," he said. "Grab your bag and go straight to the Humvee. You'll be safe, I promise."

"Where are we going to go?" she asked. "Do you think there's any hope of a government safe zone still active out there?"

Crash shook his head. "It's unlikely, I'm sorry to say. I think we're going to be on our own."

Karmen's eyes filled with tears, but she looked away quickly. Probably trying to hide it from him. Heaven forbid the ice queen actually had some soft spots.

He touched her arm and when she looked up at him, he thought she looked fragile and terrified. "Hey," he said softly. "It's going to be okay. We're together now, and I promise, I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

He expected some ugly retort or for her to snatch her arm away, but instead, she swiped at her eyes and smiled.

"Thank you," she said. "I know I've been really hard on you since I got here, but I do appreciate everything you've done for us. I'm sorry you have to leave your home."

Crash didn't even know how to respond to that. Karmen being nice and saying thank you? Maybe it really was the end of days.

"I got your back, Blondie." He flashed her a smile and winked.

She let out a huge sigh and pulled her arm away. "Nice," she said. "Better than Barbie, I guess. I'll see you in the truck. You coming?"

Karmen turned to the girl and she looked up, nodding. She'd been staring down at the rats, almost as if she was shocked or sad she'd killed them all the way she had. If it hadn't been for her, though, Crash wasn't sure how they would have survived it.

He still wasn't sure what to think about the attack. Were the rats just infected and searching for survivors in packs? Or had they been sent, just like the super-zombies?

He didn't know, and he wasn't about to stay behind to find out. If they got out on the road and kept moving, they'd be a lot harder to track. He hoped, anyway.

Anything had to be better than staying in one place where they were sitting ducks for anyone who wanted to harm them.

The two girls left the apartment, and Crash walked over to his desk and stared up at his monitors. He'd spent so much time and money putting this system together. It sucked that he had to leave it behind like this, but they were just things, right? He doubted people had been looting computer equipment, so maybe once they found a new place to settle down, he'd be able to go out and scavenge for another great system somewhere.

For now, he unhooked his two best laptops from the mess of cords under his desk and slipped them into a leather messenger bag. He didn't even bother bringing the chargers. He didn't need them anymore.

Stepping over the bodies of the dead rats, he made his way back to his bedroom. There wasn't much he wanted to take with him. He'd packed a couple changes of clothes, but other than his computers and the food and water he'd stored up, there wasn't a lot more he cared about.

He grabbed the tattered copy of Catcher in the Rye and a photograph of his mom from his nightstand and slipped them into his bag with the computers.

Crash walked back down the hallway to the door, and with a final glance at the place he'd called home, he gave a quick salute and walked away.