Disclaimer: I still don't own Hey! Arnold, isn't that a disappointment? Oh well. I hope I haven't managed to scare off my readers with this content. By the way, is anyone else getting pissed at the constant barrage of ads we can't skip through on this site, or is it just me? Have a nice day –
HA
The sun had disappeared over the horizon half an hour earlier, the kids were whining about how hungry they were, the bus's heater would spot in and out, and Chava was tired of staring at empty road. With a heavy sigh, she pulled off onto the side of the road, letting the engine die and causing the students to stop midsentence and look to her. Helga stood from her seat behind the driver, and nodded to Phoebe who scurried to the back to retrieve a bag.
"Why'd ya stop Miss Chava?" Stinky asked, his thick southern drawl butchering her name. She just smiled while double checking the door.
"I stopped, Skinny, because I am just as hungry and tired as you kids are. Now's as good a time as any to have our rationed dinner, and catch a few zees." Scratching the back of her neck, Chava explained half-heartedly her reasoning as she looked to Phoebe, who was now handing out one cheese and bread concoction to everyone. When she reached their leader, the brown haired woman looked at it with curiosity, but took it nonetheless.
"What's this?"
"Cheese Zombie." Helga offered while taking a good bite out of hers. Chava deadpanned for a minute, before laughing at the absurdity of such a name for an elementary school lunch. The meal was relatively quiet, save for the small outbursts of laughter from Chava at the thought of eat a cheese zombie during a zombie apocalypse. She had to admit, though, they were good – must've been the fake cheese and unhealthy bread.
Ten minutes later and even the slowest of eaters were done. A few whined quietly about still being hungry, but a shameful look from Helga silenced them. Pulling out her pocket watch, Chava popped it open to check the time, grimacing when she found she'd been driving longer than she'd first thought. She always hated driving, always made Isaac do it when they had to go anywhere – like her mother's.
"Alright kiddos – find a place and hunker down for the night. I'm not your babysitter, so stay up if you like, just be quiet because I want to sleep. Kid, Crazy, front of the bus." Only a few students weren't surprised when Helga and Curly moved forward to conference with Chava as the rest of them found a seat and tried to get as comfortable as possible.
"We'll be keeping watch in shifts of a few hours – I want it just you two, until I can get some of the others trained up to par with your level. Now, if you feel like you're starting to get drowsy, don't chance it, get back into the bus and have the next person go. I don't want anything compromised because your eyelids got heavy but you thought you were fine. Now you two decided who goes first, I'm beat." And with that, Chava slid back into the driver's seat, put her hat over her eyes, and within minutes her breathing was starting to even out.
Helga and Curly looked at each other, before smirking.
"Not it!"
Well that hadn't worked. Their smirks turned into more good-natured grins as they held out their fists, shaking them three times in the age-old problem solver.
"Rock Paper Scissors."
Scissors cuts paper. Helga grinned in triumph as Curly slumped in defeat, before shouldering his rifle and moving to the first roof hatch. Hiking up a leg, he stepped onto one seat, then the back leather, heaving himself through the opening. Helga held back a laugh as she slid into a nearby seat, mimicking the others with their legs draped over the edge and their coats for blankets. It grew quiet fast, despite the excitement of the day – or maybe because of it. Phoebe soon crawled into the seat with her blonde best friend, and Helga gladly let her in, repositioning so both girls were covered and comfortable.
They listened as the lives in the bus moved, and settled, and moved again.
Then they heard someone shuffle into the seat next to them and up through the roof hatch.
In the darkness, Helga smiled.
~O~
Not only was it dark sitting on top of the bus, but it was also cold. Colder than anything Thaddeus Curly Gammelthorpe had felt in a long, long time. Even when he and his sister had camped out on their grandparents' farm and his Grandma Rosie insisted they sleep outside in the apple grove did he feel this cold. But this cold was different, this was the cold associated with death – even he knew that.
It wasn't the dead he was keeping watch for, though, it was something far worse.
It was the living.
The thump of a body on the metal roof and a not so hushed psst had him not only jumping slightly out of his skin, but glad Helga wasn't there to chide him about losing his touch. Gripping his rifle closer this his chest, the Gammelthorpe turned and was pleasantly surprised when he found the wide eyes of a girl staring back almost boldly.
"My love! What are you doing up here? You should be sleeping." He cooed like a regular crooner as he shouldered his rifle and took her hand, helping her to slide up. She wiggled on her stomach, before spinning on the cool surface and looking at him evenly.
"I was hoping I could keep you company for a while." They shared a smile, and she rubbed her hands together to fight off the chill. They were quiet for a few minutes, before she sent him a sideways glance and a soft smile she shows no one.
"I wanted to thank you, for shooting that man and saving my life." He flashed his most charming, sincere smile, fidgeting to fight the need to touch her.
"How are your arms?" he asked, rather than spouting the monologue swimming around in his head. Rhonda ran her palms over the bruises hidden beneath her shirt, wincing with the slight pressure.
"I'll live."
They returned to silence, listening to the new world function in the night. A rustle off to their right started in the bushes, and the two kids stiffened as one of the dead stumbled out, moaning quietly. Holding their breath, she was amazed that Curly didn't take aim of the poor creature, just watched it wander around in the dark. It didn't acknowledge the bus, and by some unseen force missed it completely; it disappeared down the road shortly after it appeared.
"Why didn't you shoot it?" Rhonda asked quietly, noticed how his eyes stayed on the horizon, even long after the zombie vanished.
"Out here, the dead don't concern me half as much as the living. Besides, not only do we need to conserve our ammo, but a gunshot could draw more trouble to use rather than get us out of it."
Against her will, tears started trailing down her cheeks. They were the tears of desperation, the tears of insanity and the tears of hopelessness. She wouldn't wipe them away though; she would wear them tonight, in the darkness, and be okay with that.
"You sound like Helga." She spoke quietly, and while they wouldn't look at each other, both were aware of a change in their relationship fast approaching.
"We understand one another, it's as easy as that." She nodded, grateful he didn't notice her tears; or maybe he had, but had grown up enough to recognize that she needed this. Whichever the case, she was appreciative all the same. They fell into that comfortable silence again, and Rhonda eyed her companion's rifle, mind swirling with how she should best phrase her next question.
"Think you could teach me how to shoot that thing? You know, so I'm not so useless." Her request, no matter how quiet her voice was, seemed to echo all around them as Curly turned slowly to face her.
At first he was going to flat out refuse, but then he saw the look in her eyes. The hopelessness, the desperation, and even the insanity. Then his reasoning kicked in, and he realized that if they were to survive this, she couldn't rely on him saving her neck all the time. She would need to be able to defend herself, not only against zombies but marauders and other bad dudes as well.
His decision made, Curly turned his head back towards the direction the zombie vanished.
"We'll start tomorrow."
Her tears increased, due to her surprise and happiness. Who would have thought she would be so excited to learn how to shoot the living and dead alike from her crazy stalker? Certainly not Rhonda Wellington Lloyd. Before she could thank him and slip back down through the hatch to get some sleep, Curly spoke to her again.
"I will never let anything bad happen to you, so long as I am able to prevent it. And maybe not even then."
Suddenly she didn't need to go back into the bus as badly as before. It felt right to sit out here, in the cold, dangerous world, keeping him company as he carried out his watch. Slowly, carefully, she reached out, and took his frozen hand in hers.
*.*.*
Down below within the bus, Arnold shifted to get more comfortable, listening to the quiet breathing of his classmates and the hushed voices from the roof. Others shifted, but he couldn't tell if they were awake like he was, or sleeping – if they weren't awake, he was more than a little jealous.
"Never thought I'd miss my lumpy mattress." The whisper came from the seat next to him, and Arnold heard Sid laugh in response to the joke.
"Boy howdy, do I miss going frog catching." A few more people laughed, though it was quiet and half hearted.
"I miss the Jolly Olly Man. I could really go for a Mr. Nutty." That was definitely Harold, and a few kids groaned at the thought of that tasty ice cream treat they would probably never eat again.
"Man Harold, did you have to go there?" Gerald shot, and Phoebe giggled. Arnold could practically see his best friend go red faced with an embarrassed blush and pleased grin; his friend had it bad.
"I miss my braids." Nadine laughed, running a tired hand through her short dirty blonde locks.
"I miss my dad." That voice was unmistakably Lila, and Arnold found his face turning towards her before he even registered the movement. The bus grew quiet again, before others began voicing their own sorrows.
"I miss my parents. Heck, I even miss Timberly and Jamie-O."
"I miss my mother and father as well."
"I miss my mom."
"I miss my grandparents, and the boarders. Helga, isn't there anyway we can go back – just to see? What if they're still alive?" Arnold asked the next seat over. He knew she was awake, she was the one who started the conversation. But he was amazed when she not only let him finish his sentence, but remained silent afterwards too. Just when he was about to ask again, he heard her shift, releasing a strained sigh.
"We can't go back. I'm sorry guys, but I can't and won't risk it. Besides, you don't want to know what happened to them. Remember the good times and look at the road ahead of us." Her voice was tired, Arnold could hear it.
"Don't you want to know what happened to your parents? Your sister?" Nadine questioned, but before she could answer or avoid answering, Rhonda slide back in through the roof hatch, followed closely by Curly. As soon as his feet touched the metal floor, Helga was up and through the opening, rifle at the ready over her shoulder.
"She really is ever so cold, not wanting to know what happened to her family." Lila whispered, unaware of the ears that were listening from the roof as they guarded those inside. Unaware of how much her words stung.
"I reckon there's somethin' Helga ain't tellin us." Stinky murmured to himself in the back of the bus, to which only Sid nodded his agreement. The pair would be silent in their observations for now.
"Helga isn't cold, far from it. She doesn't desire to know what happened to her family because she already knows." As soon as the words left her mouth, Phoebe knew she shouldn't have spoken. Too late, the damage had been done, and all those awake were listening to her. After a moment of silent prodding, she finally let them know what her best friend had done.
"A few days ago she shot her father, and earlier today had to kill her mother as well. Both were infected past the point of life." Trying to keep it short and simple for her friend's sake, Phoebe spoke quickly and quietly. A few of the girls gasped, although Lila's was the loudest.
"That is why Helga needs us to keep moving forward. She's protecting us not only from the dangers we face, but the pain of seeing our loved ones how she saw hers. She doesn't want anyone else put in the position where they have to kill their family."
All conversation ended after that. Everyone tried to get some sleep, but on everyone's mind was the thought of one little blonde girl, who was growing up so much so her friends can still have something of a childhood. Meanwhile, Helga sat on the roof, feeling more alone than she ever had, crying as she listened to the world.
*.*.*
Dawn came far too fast for Chava, as she groaned when the light pierced her hat and invaded her eyes. Shifting her weight in the very uncomfortable driver's seat, she lifted her cloth eye and hair covering, noticing how empty the road was and how quiet the bus remained. Turning to wake the kids, she jumped when she came face to face with the zombies who ate her shotgun; apparently she only blew half of his jaw away. He grinned at her, before snarling and diving in for the kill.
Jerking in her seat, Chava spasmed around the steering wheel as she ripped her hat away from her eyes and whirled around. Simmons was snoring quietly in the seat to her right, and the rest of the children seemed to be just as dead.
"Fuckin zombies, can't live with 'em. Can't sleep without 'em." She muttered to herself, before standing and listening to her joints pop with relief. Sighing, she leaned on the back of the seat and eyed all the students carefully.
"Who has to pee?"
Every hand shot up in the air.
"I want a parameter report." She shouted up towards the open roof hatch, and wasn't surprised of the voice that replied.
"We're all good. I'll keep watch, then have Gammelthorpe cover my pee break." Helga called down, and Chava nodded as she winched open the doors. The kids, as apprehensive as they were, still flooded out the doors like water from a failed dam. Curly and Arnold both looked back up to the roof of the bus, making eye contact with their strong sentinel, her rifle at the ready and eyes tired but alert. She gave them a small signal, and Curly grabbed Arnold's arm, carting him over to where Rhonda stood, waiting for him.
The raven haired Princess almost felt jealous for the understanding that passed between Curly and Helga, at the connection the two shared. She would have been ready to throw a fit at her number one stalker finding companionship somewhere else, except that she knew of Helga's deep love for Arnold. She saw how the blonde's eyes changed as she looked from one gaze to another – and when Rhonda met eyes with Curly, she recognized that look. What Helga showed Arnold, and what Curly showed her were the same emotions.
It made her feel pretty.
"Come on guys, the sooner we get back to the bus, the sooner Helga can go, and then we'll be on the road."
The students nodded, following Curly as he led them off the road and into the underbrush.
"This really bites. Why couldn't them undead arise durin the summer?" Stinky whined as he and Sid performed a rookie sort of bushwhacking. From behind them, Phoebe spoke up as she stumbled and had to grip Gerald's arm for stability.
"Actually Stinky, we're lucky that this happened during late winter, early spring rather than summer. The chill in the air prevents further decay that would have undoubtedly happened because of the city heat. As it stands, the zombies are kept relatively intact, and the further north we go, I believe the more this will prove true. The dead will become stiff and eventually immobile; much like unprotected meat in a freezer they'll get freezer burn. So to speak." As she explained, the kids broke up into two groups, boys and girls. Ten year olds still have their propriety to think of.
"But, wouldn't it be ever so much easier if this happened during the summer? Not only would we be able to smell them coming, but we'd be with our families too." Lila questioned as the groups reconvened and headed back to the bus. Phoebe shook her head as she rubbed her hands together – a sudden cold wind had begun to chill them.
"Not really. The rotten flesh, coupled with the heat of the city's summer and the sheer volume of dead bodies would have been overwhelming. We never would have made it past the city gates. And who's to say we would even be with our families when this plague struck? I say we consider ourselves lucky we've survived this long."
Curly nodded his agreement with the very intelligent Kent-Asian, and was about to offer his own insights, when his foot caught a small sinkhole. Falling heels over head, he managed a few summersaults before he found himself on his back near the school bus, the barrel of Helga's gun aimed fitfully at his head.
"Klaatu barada nikto!" he chanted with his hands over his head and a smirk on his face. Helga smirked in return, before laughing and helping him to his feet as the others appeared from the thicket. Chava and Mr. Simmons came down the steps of the bus, Mr. Simmons calmly asking each student to sit down on the bus and wait for the three of them to return.
"Crazy, I want you up on top of that bus in no more than thirty seconds," Chava barked, and Curly barely had time to salute before he was running into the bus and scrambling up through the roof hatch, "Come on Simmons, Kid. I gotta piss."
Helga laughed again as she repositioned her weapon on her shoulder, loyally following her commander while Mr. Simmons shook his head with a pitiful sigh. But he was gracious enough to give them some privacy, wandering only a slight ways away to urinate. Helga had just told Chava about Curly's Day the Earth Stood Still reference, and the two were sharing a small laugh when Chava abruptly stopped.
"Do you hear that?"
Tuning out her rapidly accelerating heartbeat, Helga stopped breathing to listen. At first she didn't hear anything, but then there it was. A twig broken by a heavy footfall. Followed by another. Then a low, dead moan.
"What direction is it coming from?" Helga whispered, and Chava shrugged as she zipped up her jeans and picked up her shotgun. The pair was still as they waited for anything that would give away where the creature was. Nothing moved around them, until suddenly something broke through into their clearing.
It was Mr. Simmons, standing there panting and bracing his hands on his knees.
"I thought I heard something." He managed to get out before the two women shushed him, trying to hear something, anything. Helga could have sworn that right before Simmons rushed in, there was a low groan just off to her side, but she couldn't be sure.
"Ok Kid, let's get back to the bus, I don't want to be out here any longer than needed, gathering unwanted attention." Chava issued her order, Helga and Mr. Simmons nodding as they made their back towards the bus. A sudden snarl erupted, and Helga had just enough time to look to her left and shriek before she was knocked to the ground.
Her rifle bounced from her hands as she tried to keep his snapping jaws from making contact with her flesh. He back hurt from where she caught a rock right between the shoulder blades, and through her panic, her irritation rose.
"Hold still Helga, and I can get the shot!" Chava shouted, and Helga, ever the snarky little girl, couldn't stop her reply from biting out.
"No rush!"
A few seconds of tussling later, and Helga's annoyance reached a breaking point when the burly zombie on top of her was still thrashing uncomfortably close to her face.
"Take the damn shot!" she shrieked, and when a shot did ring out, and the zombie fell on top of her double dead, Helga was expecting some smart remark from Chava. But when she managed to shoved the creature off of her, she was certainly surprised when she found Mr. Simmons holding her smoking rifle, eyes wide and face pale. But at least he wasn't shaking. Turning to Chava, Helga glared as the woman met her gaze evenly.
"And why didn't you smoke him?" Chava smirked as she cocked a thumb towards the forth grader's teacher.
"He's gotta get some practice with a firearm, right?"
And with that, she was gone through the brushed and towards the bus. Helga just sighed as she heaved herself off the ground, smiling at her teacher thankfully.
"Thanks Mr. Simmons." And with that, she took his pale hand in hers, and led him quietly back to the bus.
"How do you do it, Helga?" he asked, and she stopped to look at him. The others were just beyond the line of trees, but the girl figured she better address this before getting on the bus. The last thing they needed was a breakdown in front of them, and she could practically smell his approaching.
"Just think about everything I have to live for." He thought about it, before speaking again.
"But how can you kill them so easily? They were people too."
"Not so easily," Helga murmured to herself, but when she caught Mr. Simmons' gaze, she continued. "They were people, but they aren't anymore. They're dead. And we'll be just like them if we don't find a way to harden ourselves. I'm sorry if this hurts you, Mr. Simmons, but there is no cure for this. Not yet, if ever, so you can't just mope around not killing these zombies when all they want to do is eat your brains. I'm doing the best I can to keep you guys alive, but I can't do it all. You have to help me out." Set let that sink in, before she looked down and laughed brokenly, "I'm pretty sure I've said this all before. But I don't think anyone understood what I meant until now."
Mr. Simmons looked at her, for the first time not seeing his fourth grade student, but a hardening survivor.
"But, you're just a little girl." It was more to remind and reassure himself, rather than Helga.
"And you're just an old man. It doesn't matter anymore, because those stenches don't care, and neither should we. Come on, let's get back to the bus before Chava leaves us behind."
She didn't take his hand this time as they rejoined the group, and Robert Simmons couldn't help but think that his ten year old was forcing him to grow up. She let him climb the steps of the bus first, nodding to him when he started down the aisle and she doors shut behind her. And then, she turned her back to him, joining Curly and Chava as the bus started, and their unconventional leader drove off down the road.
"I'm thinking we move onto the 5, it's a straight shot into Canada." Curly suggested as he and Helga bent over the atlas they set on the dashboard. His companion traced the road with her finger, her brow furrowing in thought as she shook her head.
"No doubt it'll lead us right to Canada, but it's also the main artery. It'll be clogged with cars and stenches. It's risky." Chava made a noise of agreement, and both kids looked to her as her eyes stayed on the road ahead.
"And I-5 takes us right through Olympia, Tacoma, Seattle, Bellevue. The capital, not to mention some of the most populated cities in the state. My guess is that when this thing hit, three fourths of the population went and came back just as quickly. Those cities will be crawling with the undead, and any survivors still praying for a rescue."
The reasoning made sense to Curly, and he nodded before bending over the map again, rerouting and planning before speaking again.
"What if we take the 5, and then jump onto 12. It swings wide, but we can connect onto the 410 from there, then the 169 to the I-90; that way we can bypass the major cities. All that's left then is Everett, Mt. Vernon, and Bellingham. If we take the highways, it'll give us time to train up the others, so we can at least be prepared by the time we hit the cities." Curly explained, also tracing the routes with his finger as he showed Helga his plan. She seemed to study the map for a brief moment, before nodding.
"It's still risky, but that's probably the safest plan we have so far."
"Well this is nice; with the second in command and navigator running everything, all I have to do is drive the bus." There was nothing but good humor in her voice, and Helga and Curly shared a smile.
"Do you want to do all this planning?" Helga smirked, and Chava met her look, shaking her head with a laugh.
"No, I want to drive the bus. Crazy, I want you to go back and help Phoebs hand out the morning's food ration." He saluted her order, laughing at something only he thought was funny and grabbing Phoebe from out of her seat. His laughter increased at the looks both Gerald and Rhonda shot them, but Phoebe ignored them when she understood where he was leading her. As the pair dished out the food – left over cheese zombies – Helga and Chava mulled over the morning so far.
"We should keep the San Juan Islands open as an option simultaneously to Canada." Chava looked at the little girl from the corner of her eye, but said nothing, waiting patiently for the blonde to go on.
"My grandmother lived up in Oak Harbor, some of the islands are not that inhabited. That might be easier than trying to get past the border." Keeping it short and sweet and to the point, Helga didn't bother going into detail. If Chava didn't take to the idea, she wasn't going to waste breath on an explanation.
"There's a base up that way. It's an idea – we'll stop by that way, check it out before hitting the border crossing."
They grew quiet again, as Phoebe came up and handed both a cheese zombie. Chava didn't even bother looking at it as she bit into the slightly hard bread and fake cheese. Helga picked at hers, until Phoebe left them, then she spoke again.
"Why didn't you take the shot earlier? Really?" her voice was hushed and curious, causing Chava to stop mid chew.
"He wouldn't let me. I was ready to take the shot, but he snatched up your rifle, sent me an arresting look, and pow, took out your aggressor. That look in his eye, I've seen it many times before, you yourself have gotten it quite often since I've met you. The look of someone protecting someone they love." The older woman watched carefully how her words affected the little girl. Helga smiled, the first true smile Chava had ever seen spread across her lips.
Helga was feeling grateful, very grateful. She knew that this feeling of love was what she should have felt from her parents, but never did. It was a marvel to her, that she should love Dr. Bliss and Mr. Simmons like her parents, maybe even more than her biological life givers. She knew it would be a dark day when they lost their beloved teacher. Just like her shrink, Helga knew she wouldn't have the strength to end her teacher should he become infected. That realization scared her more than the thought of zombies feasting on her flesh.
Still, the little girl relished the feeling the older woman's words gave her. It was nice to be the one being protected for once.
HA
