It wasn't long until we found the camp. The camp was outside of an old jail three stories high. The once white washed walls not recoiling to reveal old brick, the barred windows rusted. It looked like one of the slum areas of the world. Rows of tents stretch all over, filled with all kinds of refugees. It was surrounded by a wired fence, with people on guard duty every 10 feet around it. The only gate was closed and heavily wired and guarded. We all froze, worried if we could even get in. Bill slowly approached the gate; the men guarding the gate tightened their grips on their guns and eyed us suspiciously. A heavier man sitting on a foldable chair under a large tent with other chatting guards slowly stood up and waddled up to the driver's window. Bill rolled down his window nervously, smiling awkwardly.
"Where you all from?" The butterball asked, sweat dripping down his forehead from the blistering heat.
"We are….uh…uh." Bill mumbled pointing shakily back down the dirt road.
I sighed and walked across the truck bed to the man. He looked startled and breathed in deep, a guardsmen aimed at me, not taking any chances. I stared at him for a moment; the guy was all muscle. His dirt and sand covered cammo stretched over his rippling pecks. A stony glare lengthened shadows over his hateful eyes. I looked back at the pudgy guy, unshaken by the guardsman's hostile behavior.
"We're from out of town," I began, "and all over. It's best we keep it at that since I've been known to run-on and the others here are a bit buzzed from the heat so they'll just ramble like my friend here."
The man nodded and looked at Bill again. Bill continued his toothy smile and waved awkwardly. The man nodded.
"You guys plan on staying here long? We're as packed as Tokyo right now."
"We just want food, a bed for a night and a shower," I continued. I looked at the hostile guardsman, "then we'll be on our way." The guardsman continued his cold stare in the blistering heat.
"Very good," The fat one said, "any weapons?"
I nodded and motioned the guys to empty. They jumped out of the car reluctantly. Two guardsmen from under the tent came by with a large box with a lock. We unloaded our artillery, each drop tightening the guardsmen's grip on the box. It looked like we had emptied all our pockets, but the guards looked at Bobby expectantly; he hadn't emptied his pockets yet. I sighed.
"Bobby?"
While still looking at the ground, he took his rifle off his left shoulder. After flinging his rifle into the box, he began to clear his abyss-like pockets. The guards' eyes widened with the sight of how many grenades Bobby was pulling out of one vest pocket. After the thirty grenades were successfully taken out, Bobby pulled a revolver out of one pants pocket, pistol from another, and finally, with difficulty, a long machete wrapped in bandanas out from under his shirt.
"So that's where my bandanas went…" Bill whispered.
The men very carefully closed the box and locked it. They then shakily brought it to a four-wheeler and drove off to the camp. We all then looked at the chubby man, who had a very serious look on his face.
"One final question," he asked slowly, "have any of you ever been bitten?"
We all knew the answer was no, but it took me a moment to answer. It was because of the importance of that one question. It was the matter of life and death for all the refugees. One infected toddler could wipe out the entire camp. For all we knew, this was probably the last open survivors' camp in America.
"No." I said clearly.
The man stared at each of us thoughtfully; then smiled.
"Very good. Welcome to the survivors camp! You can take your truck inside and look for a tent either in the jail or outside. The showers are on the far side of the building. Food's given out once a day due to shortage. When you're ready to leave, go to where the main office is."
I nodded appreciatively and motioned the guys to get back into the truck. They gladly did so; getting back into their spots before. Only when we were 100 yards away did the one very hostile guardsman lower his weapon, but continued to glare at us. I stared at him for a long time, confused. I know times are hard, hell, extremely hard, but this man looked like he had a bigger thirst for our blood then the cannibalistic undead.
I turned my attention to Bobby, who was picking the rust off the bed of the truck. It is hard to tell what mood Bobby is in, since his face is almost always expressionless. The whole end of the world thing didn't come as a big blow to him, I always thought this is what he looked like when he was in high school, slowly trudging through the halls just getting through the day without someone asking him what was wrong was probably an achievement for him. But after being with him longer than the others, I could start to tell when something was troubling him. The mindless rust picking was one giveaway, but the other took a keener eye. The lines in-between his eyebrows thickened and the way he was sitting looked odd; something unlike Bobby. He was always staring off somewhere, deep in thought. I tried to catch his gaze, he looked up once, then back at the bed.
"What's wrong?" I asked wearily.
He looked up, annoyed, and then down again.
"I don't trust these people." He muttered lowly, I barely made it out over the roar of the engine.
"Yeah, this place is a bit off. But we haven't eaten in awhile and had a decent place to sleep so we should take any chance we got." He stilled looked worried.
"We'll be out of here by tomorrow." I assured him. "Hell, they'll be glad we're gone!"
He huffed and smirked a bit, but it faded seconds later. I sighed and looked ahead. We were close enough to hear the many people and see the crude conditions. The tents were poor and made of wood and tarp. Every single tent was filled. No one tried to make it homey. Dirt crusted the tarps and ancient sleeping bags. They people looked insane. Some just sat there, either in fetal position or Indian, usually rocking. I saw one woman in a very small tent, holding a blood covered baby blanket, cooing to it softly.
I grew weary over the horrific sight.
"Just park outside the tent area. There's no way we'll find tents for all of us. We'll have to sleep in the truck" I said.
Bill nodded in agreement parked on the farther side of the camp. We all jumped out and looked around the camp a bit.
"What we gonna' do first?" Ed asked.
"Well," I replied, "we should find out where the food and showers are then head back here."
"Someone will need to watch the truck." Bill said, glaring at the refugees.
I nodded. "Any volunteers?"
Everyone grew quiet. I sighed.
"I'll do it." Tyrone replied, puffing out his chest. "Nobody would wanna' try to steal this truck with me around." He said proudly. Bill rolled his eyes.
I smiled and nodded. "Alright, we'll try to bring you some food back and I guess you could go to the showers after us."
He saluted and jump back into the bed of the truck. I motioned the other to follow me to the jail. It wasn't a straight shot to the jail. We had to walk over a few people lolling around. After seeing the condition of some of the people I doubted the showers worked and the food was good. We walked through doors which lead to the main jail cells. There were a lot of people in here as well, it was much noisier. I searched around and saw one sign pointing down a hall that said showers and another in a different direction down the hall which said food. I turned to the guys.
"We'll have to split up to make this a bit faster. Bill and I will go to the showers; you guys figure out where there food is and try to get enough for all of us. Agreed?"
They all nodded slowly. Without a second glance I walked across the many indoor tents to the halls that lead to the showers, Bill close behind.
We were all heading back to the truck when Bill started chattering about the filthy state of the showers.
"That place gave a whole new meaning the saying 'Don't drop the soap'"
"You actually found soap?" Ed exclaimed.
"Yer, a lil' spec of it."
"I don't even feel clean." I replied, shaking my head. "So, got anything good from the market?" I asked, hopeful.
"Pssh." Ed retorted. He rummaged through the paper bag he was carrying and read the labels.
"Canned beef, sweet peas, green beans, chili and…cat food."
"Well, at least we got a variety." I mumbled.
"I'll take the cat food." Bill said, licking his lips. Bobby and I stared at him.
"What?" He said. "It's basically like tuna." He shrugged.
I laughed lowly and smiled. "Bill, will you ever seize to amaze us?"
"Of course not!" He replied proudly.
When we got back to the truck, it was already dark. Tyrone was snoring loudly in the back of the truck. Bill shook the truck harshly.
"Morning sleepy head!" He shouted.
Tyrone awoke with a loud snort. He looked at each of us drowsily.
"How were the showers?" He yawned.
"Cold and brown." Ed replied.
"And the food?"
Bill held up the cat food can. "Just like mother used to make."
Tyrone groaned and stretched. "Guess I'll take mine now, see y'all in awhile." He slumped out of the truck and stiffly walked to the jail. We all jumped into the bed of the truck. Bill pulled out a lighter and the last pack of cigarettes we had. Bobby pulled out a pocket knife and opened our chosen cans; I got the sweet peas by default. We all smoked and ate in silence. We later chattered on about everything; where we lived, what was our family like, who we lost our virginity to and finally, our last love.
"My girl was sweet, but had a major appetite. I really think the only reason she dated me was cuz' my Pa ran an Ihop." Bill said, heartily.
"My girlfriend was great," Ed began. "We both worked at a computer store. We did pretty much everything together. Well, to our parents' extent, heh…How about you Bobby?"
Bobby just shrugged.
"Ok…Gabriel?"
They all looked at me. I sighed.
"I was dating my girlfriend since college. We had a class together. At first it was just glances at each other. Then we started talking, went to movies, slept in each other's dorms. After college we decided to get an apartment together. I worked at a drugstore; she worked in a dentist office as an assistant." I looked up, no willing to go on. But they all stared at me, expecting more, even Bobby.
I sighed and continued. "After a year and half, I proposed to her on a carousel at a local fair," I smiled, but it soon faded. "We were both working when we heard about the out-brake, we headed home and began packing. She got a call from her mother saying she was scared and needed her. I wanted to disagree. We planned on going to my parents in North Dakota. 'I'll be back soon.' She told me. But uh….she never did.
"It had been a few hours so I started heading there. The only road leading into her mom's town was blocked by the police. I asked what happened. 'The towns' over-run.' One cop said. 'We've heard explosion and some comin' out said half the town has caught fire.' I asked if any of the people coming out had hip length blonde hair. They said no. I…I tried to get through but they pushed my back. A large group of undead ran through. I tried to sneak past them but some saw me and chased me for a long time. I stole a car and drove off….and that's when I saw Bobby…"
I looked up again. Their expressions were now pity. I didn't like how they were looking at me, I wanted to get away.
"I'm uhh…gonna' go talk to the guards, see how their holding up."
I slowly got out of the truck, leaving my cigarette behind. It was long until my face was wet with tears. With each sob my footsteps got shorter apart until I slumped to the ground; tears running hot down my neck. I stared up at the sky. The moon shined brightly over the velvety, star studded night. I dug in my pocket and pulled out my ring, it was a simple silver band. I thought of hers. She loved the moon, so I got a ring that reminded her of it. The diamond was nearly a perfect circle; on the silver band it had indentations matching the craters of the moon. She fell in love with it at first glance. I clenched my fist so hard over my ring that my nails dug into my skin, causing me to bleed. I threw the ring and then dug my nails in the dirt, still sobbing. I wished I was dead. There was nothing left for me in this world. I didn't care about the guys anymore. I just wanted to lay there until I die. I asked God why, why did he take someone so close to me away? I guess this was his message to us that he doesn't care anymore. I thought of that band we listened to, Nirvana. Chloe was my only completely enjoyable experience. But she was stripped from me. I didn't even say goodbye to her.