Hissers II: Death March (22 page)

“Or they went west.”

“Is that better? That’s where you’re headed. And if you think the towns in Mexicali are big, just consider what San Diego is like with Tijauna at the base of its balls. San Diego is a lost cause, I wager.”

“I promised Am we’d go and meet her friend.
I don’t have a whole lot else to live for. The band is done. Parents are dead. Being on the road was what I lived for. Wasn’t even so much the music. Just had to get out and be in America, see the country, drink whiskey at all the local bars and chat with whoever would lend me an ear. Singing, yeah that was fun, all that attention, but it was during the day, going from gig to gig, diner to diner, bar to bar…that was what kept my heart beating, being in the world. I gotta get her to San Diego. Otherwise I can’t look in her eyes.”

Ron took a long pull on hi
s beer. “You made her a promise you can’t keep.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know that San Diego isn’t the safest place in America right now. La Jolla is way out on the coast. Could be they sealed it off in time.”

“Where is it in La Jolla you’re even trying to get to?”

Doug finished his beer and set it on the ground. “I know it sounds s
tupid, but we’re headed to some lab. Aminodyne labs. We think, maybe we can make a difference. Don’t ask me to explain how, because I don’t even really know myself, but we’ve got some kind of secret knowledge, from what I hear.”

“I ain’t gonna ask about that at all.
I’m too tired and preoccupied about this camp to put my head into anything more. But do me a favor and repeat the name of that lab.”

Doug said the name again. Ron stretched his back and let out a long breath. He turned to Henero and said, “Yeah, that sounds like it. Go tell Marlene to get the radio. Doug deserves to hear what’s coming through it.”

Doug stood up. “You have a radio? Man, why didn’t you say something?”

“Because the world has no law right now, Doug, and I needed to know what you’re intentions were here. That radio is our only link to the world and we can’t risk losing it to some hellion out for kicks. Not that you seem to be that kind of person but you can understand my need for caution. Now relax, because when you hear what’s coming through on that Ham bandwith, you’re not gonna be happy.”

SATURDAY 2:34 PM

The RV rumbled down the road at normal speeds, each member inside looking out the windows, ready to sound off if any undead appeared. So far none had. But there were no other cars either, and the trip had been silent do to the lack of radio stations on the air and the lack of conversation. Cleo hummed old Motown tunes to himself and Hugh drove. Andy sat silent near the back, looking out the small window in the back door.

Only Connor and Olive sat close
together and made small talk when they could, in between trying to decipher whether or not a bush was just a bush or a walking, undead monster.

“
Favorite movie?” Olive asked.

Connor thought for a moment. “I don’t know if I have a favorite. Maybe
Jaws
.”

“Aren’t you a
little young for
Jaws
?”

“My dad liked it a lot, so I used to watch it with him on DVD.”

“When I first saw that movie I wouldn’t go in the water for years. Scared the crap outta me.”

“That’s what my dad said. He said it caused mass hysteria in the country. But that shark is so fake looking and the idea of a shark stalking a boat and jumping on it is ridiculous.
They proved that on Shark Week a dozen times.”

“And yet it’s your favorite movie.”

Connor let the blinds drop and sat back on the couch. The coast looked clear outside as far as he could see. “It is, but because I find the horror parts goofy, and the hunting part on the boat, kinda, real. If that makes sense.”

“Sure it wasn’t because you watched it with your dad?”

“Yeah, there is that. Seth used to come over and watch it with us. He always said part three was the best, because it was in 3D—even though we never saw it in 3D—but I know he just liked the end when that guy got eaten but had a grenade in his hand. It’s kinda bad ass if you could do that. Go out with a big blast and take the monster with you. Like cooking a grenade off and dropping it at your feet in Halo as you die, taking out your enemy.”

“Kinda morbid if you ask me.”

“I know. But better to die quick, I think, than get eaten alive.”

Olive stared him down, shook her head. “Stop thinking like this, Connor, you’re too young.”

“I’m not young. I would rather shoot myself in the head that let those things eat me.”

They both sat silent for a minute, reflecting on those words and how it related to the world now
, compared it to what Connor
should
be doing. Going to school, to parties, playing sports and riding bikes. Connor figured he might have actually done it on the river, just put that gun to his head and squeezed out the last shot, snapped himself into oblivion.

He turned and looked out the window again. “Still clear,’ he said.

The RV continued on untouched for another hour, and soon a low fog began to blanket the road.

“Hey, Hugh,” Cleo said, where are we? This looks like marine layer.”

Hugh called back, “Sure is, man, sure is. We’re a little west of San Grande Carlita.”

“Where the Sam hell is that? Supposed to be heading down to San Diego.
”

Hugh pulled the vehicle down a long concrete path, past an open chain link gate, and then down through a grove of trees. “We’re heading that way, Cleo, but I saw a sign about thirty miles back for this marina up here.
Don’t worry, I’m staying off the highways.”

Everyone in the back of the RV exchanged glances. Marina? Were they already on the coast?

“Say what?” Cleo asked.

“Look,” Hugh said,
“we know that if we stay on the road we’re gonna encounter them things. We’ve already passed a hundred cars with blood on the windshields and open car doors. Those drivers are running around somewhere. But the water, that might be different. We take a boat down the rest of the way to the coast. Otherwise we dump out in LA and we’re fucked. Too much congestion there. Roads will be jammed up for sure.”

Andy came walking up the aisle, hands on the walls to steady himself as the RV bumped over the old road. “I don’t do boats.”

“Hey, Hugh, Andy doesn’t do boats,” Cleo laughed.

“Well I think it’s a good idea,
” Olive said. “Long as Jaws doesn’t try to attack us.”

“So, what, we just dump the RV?” Cleo asked.

Hugh nodded. “I know. I know. It’s a waste, considering it got us this far. But this thing in LA, that is just a bad move.”

The RV slowed to a steady crawl. The trees outside opened up and dumped them onto a thinner road that wrapped around two large clapboard buildings
that had state license boating signs on them. A third, smaller building was a snack shack with its service window open but no one inside.

Hugh steered them over to the closest dock. The sun cast ribbons of sparkling jewels across the tiny inlet that led out to a bigger bay, and ultimately, the Pacific Ocean.
He put it in park and they all watched out the windows, trying to denote any movements outside.

“Looks clear,” Cleo said. 

“Yeah, but will any of those boats out there have the keys in them?” Olive asked.

“Don’t need keys,” Hugh said, his eyes still studying the reflection in his side mirror, “we have Cleo.” Now he turned back and smiled. “You can hot wire one of these, right?”

Seconds passed, then Cleo nodded. “I can hot wire a UFO if you give me a chance. But boat motors aren’t the same as car motors and we’re in a time crunch. Can’t stay out here in the open like this. I’ll do my best is all I can say.”

“Well, if it craps out in the water, we just swim I guess. Can you swim?”

“What is that, a black joke? Brother, I will swim circles around you. All state swim team, 1972. I’ll put you all on my back and dolphin your asses to San Diego.”

“That’s what I want to hear.”

“I don’t do boats,” Andy said,

“Andy doesn’t do boats,” Cleo repeated
yet again, still amused with the joke.

“I’m serious,” Andy said, desperately trying to get his point across without it being taken for humor
. “I’m not kidding around.” The look in the man’s eyes scared Connor, but the others didn’t seem to care.

“Well, let’s not sit here dawdling,” Olive said. “It’s already afternoon. If we don’t get on the water soon we’ll be doing it in the dark, and it’ll definitely be colder.
And I don’t need to remind you that these things aren’t afraid of water.”

“They walk on the bottom and follow you,” Connor reminded them, realizing that the monsters were not so unlike the shark in
Jaws
. They followed you and waited to get you when you were in trouble.

Hugh opened the door and they all filed out. The air was chillier here. Autumn had arrived, and it was coming in full force.

They scanned the docks together, moving as a unit, guns ready. In a far slip, they found a twenty-five foot motor boat with a spacious enough interior to fit them all. Had they been unsure that this was their boat, Connor put any question to bed when he pointed out its name: Castor Oil

“I don’t get it,
” Hugh said,

“I’m from Castor. O
live’s nickname growing up was Olive Oyl. Castor Oil. Different spelling but… It’s a sign, right?”

“Works for me,” Cleo said, looking at Olive.

“I hated that nick name,” she said.

“I don’t do boats,” Andy said, right as a hisser popped up from inside the snack shack, leapt over the service counter, and sprinted down the small parking lot at them.

Suddenly, Andy
did boats.

SATURDAY, 3:12: PM

Amanita’s head fell to her lap. She felt Nathan’s hand drape across her shoulders. She wanted to care that this cute boy was feeling for her, but she couldn’t. She was too empty inside. He took it away when she didn’t move. Doug’s voice sounded more baritone than usual as he stared at the ham radio.

“Since last night?”

Ron nodded, finally turned down the volume on the radio. “Since last night. We first heard the broadcast about six o’clock. Nothing we can do about it though. We tried to send a reply but they aren’t getting it. I’m not sure if they’re emergency system is busted or if it’s just designed for one-way use, but they aren’t hearing us.”

Even though the sound
was down Amanita could still hear the message being repeated: “Please help. My name is Peter Klaus and my team and I are trapped in Aminodyne labs at UCSD La Jolla. We are in the sublevel bunker, but those things are inside and somehow they have shut down our air system. We don’t have much time left. Please help. Please help. My name is Peter Klaus…”

Amanita finally looked up, wanting to curse the heavens. How was it the exact place they were going to was the exact place where the people they ne
eded to find were going to die? Was the universe just one big cruel joke?

“Before you ask,” Ron said, “we’ve had other transmissions from other places. But those have gone off line. This is one of two we hear continuously now. The other is just a lopped recording from the Emergency Broadcast System telling people to remain calm. But this one…it’s new.”

“Why haven’t the army gone in to free them?” Am asked, knowing full well what the answer was. “If it’s such a military town and all.”

“Like I told Doug, the military is scattered, weakened, got their hands full,” Ron replied. “What do they care about a handful of scientists in a lab somewhere? Good chance those people are dead.”

What a way to die, Amanita thought. Not by the hissers, which was gruesome but quick, or by a bullet or some other fast method, but to sit and just let your air run out until you asphyxiated. She could only image the pain they were feeling, the panic, knowing what was coming.

“And we’re how far away, do you reckon?” Doug asked. 

Marlene was sitting on a patio chair near the radio. She finally turned it off. “About three hours. Maybe less if you could drive really fast.”

“We have to go,” Amanita said. She knew her destiny wasn’t here in this make-shift fort. It was with Con
nor, and whatever data that drive contained. She had started this journey with her friends, back in Castor, which seemed a million years ago, and she was going to end it with her fellow Castorians. What other options existed? Stay here and live in a shack and date a boy that was admittedly too old for her, even if he was super cute. What then? Fight zombies every night, have babies to repopulate the world again when and if they won the war. Hope and pray jets didn’t bomb their camp? What a boring, trite existence. What would she do with her time? Farm? She wasn’t a farmer. She was a shopper, and a gossiper, and all the things that teenage girls were, but she wasn’t a worker, at least not the kind of work that would be required of her if she stayed here. If she was going to work, it was going to be in Forever 21 or someplace she could get a forty percent discount on new jeans. “We have to, Doug.”