The Intersection

I prodded the body lying in the convenience store entryway with my rifle to make sure it was dead before waving James inside, glass crunching beneath my boots as I moved.

I told him to step over the body, but he insisted on squeezing between the shattered see-through wall and folded wheelchair, pinching his nose as he shook his head.

“You’ve seen worse,” I said.

“I’ve never been outside Belmont,” he said. His black hair shimmered in the moonlight, his bright teal eyes twinkling. Having cleared the body, he pointed out the window and smiled. “Such a pretty night.”

We passed the cash register. Natural light ended there, so I clicked on the flashlight duct-taped to my rifle and illuminated the shelves only to find them stripped bare.

James put his hands on his hips, then grinned. “I guess we’ll have to wait for the Scavvers to go on another run this weekend. What a shame. How about we wait for them? Seems like the smart thing to do.”

I wanted to kick his little ass, but I knew he was right. I dreaded the day he realized I secretly agreed with most things he said. “Will you be quiet for once in your life? This is a big store. There’s gotta be something in one of these aisles.”

“This is stupid,” said James. “You should listen to me, Tyler. We should go back. Okay? I think we should just head back now. Can’t this wait until daytime, at least?”

“Don’t be a baby,” I said. “Think of it kinda like that one quest from Radfall—The Rite of Passage. Every boy does this when he turns twelve.”

“Every twelve-year-old goes out into a red zone with a sixteen-year-old? We’re kids.”

“We’re not kids. We’re young men. You’re a young man.”

“Do the Elders know about this?”

“No, and you’re not going to tell them.”

“Why don’t they know about it if it’s a…‘right a addage’ or whatever? If every guy does it? Is that why we had to steal that rifle?”

James was like a brother to me. He was the only other kid at our settlement, and I convinced myself sneaking out of the settlement at night wasn’t a horrible idea, that it would be a good bonding experience. I wanted him to think I was cool. I wanted him to know he could come to me with any problem he had and I would always be there for him.

Graffitied on the wall were the words, ‘REPENT! REPENT!’

What did we have to repent for? We were kids.

“Just shut up and stay behind me.”

We moved up and down the aisles. James was right. There was nothing. I closed my eyes and sighed, then faced him. “Okay, you win. Let’s go—”

My heart dropped when I reopened my eyes. He wasn’t there. Maybe he found something without me? What if he decided to head back alone? “James? James! Where are you? James?”

My head pounded as I twirled around. My pulse jumped and twitched as I shook. I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have tricked James into spotting me on a stupid snack run.

“Help…me. Help me, Tyler.” That was James’ voice!

“James, where are you?” I ran up and down the aisles.

Guttural noises reverberated around the store, sending my heart into hyperdrive. Looking back, they were clearly produced by a human child trying to be funny, with their squeaky undertones, but I didn’t realize that until it was too late. I started to run when a zombie emerged from around the end of the aisle.

All I saw was a cheeky smile, blue-green eyes wide with excitement. I didn’t register the face before I pulled the trigger, sending a round of .22 into the zombie’s abdomen.

The world froze as James fell to the ground. A dark circle grew under his shirt. He groaned and screamed.

I ran over to him and dropped to my knees, shining light onto his shirt, careful to angle the rifle away from his chest. I lifted the shirt with my free hand, revealing a dime-sized hole. Blood trickled out like a miniature waterfall.

I instructed him to put pressure on the wound as I dropped the rifle, kicked a shoe off, removed a sock, and jammed it inside the wound, causing him to yelp.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” I said. “I didn’t mean to, James. I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Oh god, I’m so sorry. You are going to be fine, okay.”

“You sh-should…go,” he said. “They’d have… h-h-heard th-that.”

I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes. I glanced at the wheelchair at the entrance, only a dozen feet away, then back at him. “No. I’m gonna get you out—”

“Tyler, behind y-you,” said James. His eyes grew wide as his frown quivered.

“You’re funny. Listen, you can be a comedian after—”

Rhythmic knocking came from behind me, followed by clicking and growling. The thuds gave way to a crack. And then another. I turned around, slowly. The glass shattered, and in crawled an ataxic silhouette.

I grabbed my rifle and aimed at the figure, illuminating its rotten flesh and an exposed rib cage. It roared as it stood up before limping toward us. A zombie. I aimed at its bald, burnt scalp and pulled the trigger. Brain matter exploded out its shattered skull as it crumpled to the ground.

I pointed to the wheelchair as I laid my rifle at James’ feet. “Stay put. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“I’m not g-going a-anywhere.” James managed to smile. That son of a bitch actually smiled.

I trotted over to the wheelchair and tried to maneuver it around the body. I leaned, trying to find a good angle, but the body was blocking the path. I nudged the body with my foot.

The zombie bit the air as it inched closer. I kicked the zombie loose and took several strides backward.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I twirled around. James fumbled for my long weapon as another zombie lumbered out of the bathroom. Bullet holes riddled this one’s shirt, exposing its grey, emaciated chest underneath.

He shot the thing seven times, causing it to dance and thrash about, before it collapsed. It was still alive, so I tore the gun from James’ hands and shot the beast’s head. It stopped wriggling. I twirled and did the same to the other one.

I grabbed the wheelchair and ran it over to James. I put my arms under his and hoisted him upwards, grunting. I managed to lift him several inches off the ground, but then I dropped him. I tried again but had the same result.

He chuckled. “You’re so weak you c-can’t ev-en lift…a twelve year old.”

“I’m trying to save your life, you little shit.”

His lips quivered under his eyes that shimmered with tears. I couldn’t tell if they were real or fake. “If we make it out of here, I’m telling the Elders on you.”

I tried again, and I dropped him again, my own voice shaking as I tried to stop myself from crying. “You can do whatever you want when I get you out of here, alive.”

He stood up and sat in the chair, kicking his legs out to reach the footplates. “You know I c-could have done that this wh-whole time?”

My mouth fell open. “I hate you.”

“That’s not very nice. I could d-die here if you want.”

I rolled my eyes and gave James my rifle before wheeling him out of the store.

We started down the street. Empty fields surrounded the long stretch of chipseal. We followed that road until we came upon a three-way intersection.

I ran as fast as I could and decided to take a shortcut through the town of Chapel Hill.

I stopped running when I noticed his closed eyes, placed a hand on his shoulder, and shook him. “James?”

He opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow.

“Hey there, buddy. You doing okay?”

“I…feel like someone s-shot me in the stomach.” He attempted a smile, but the grin fell away as he winced.

The windows and doors of the buildings we passed were boarded up, their walls crumbled. We zigged and zagged through cars left on the street to rot, some wrecked and others discarded in perfect condition like a celebrity buying a new coat after wearing the last one only once. James clicked off the flashlight when the sun poked its head above the skyline.

I stopped at the intersection of Chapel Hill Avenue and Filmore Street. A sign read, ‘Belmont: 1 Mile.’

Leaning over and placing my head next to James’, I pointed at the sign. “We’re almost there.”

He tilted his head and rested it on my shoulder. “T-Tyler, if…I don’t make it, p-promise me you won’t blame yourself.”

I stood up and continued pushing him, not wanting to show him my tears. “Don’t talk like that. You’ll be fine.”

What happened next is blurry; was it the horde, quiet as assassins until they spotted us, stumbling out of the pine trees first, or was it the pothole that pitched James out onto the pavement?

James moaned and sat up, clutching his ankle. I nearly lost my balance as the wheelchair crashed onto its side. The zombies grunted as they walked in our direction. My heart beat so fast it felt like it was trying to escape my chest cavity.

I grabbed the wheelchair and put it upright. “Get in. Get in!”

He tried and cried out, falling back to the ground. The horde was now a dozen yards away. “I can’t! My foot! Go. Just go.”

I picked up my rifle and started shooting. One of the beasts fell, its brains flying out the back of its head. Another zombie stumbled over its fallen brethren’s body, its arms outstretched at an angle as its eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.

I tried to lift James one more time, but he shoved me away. A tear streaked down his cheek. “Save yourself, please. I want you to save yourself. It’s okay with me. I’ll be…fine. You can live. You can make the world a better place.”

I ignored him and kept trying, sobbing. “I can’t lose you. I need you!”

“N-no, you don’t,” he said. “You can’t help me, but you can help your…self. For once in your life, don’t be a d-dumbass. Go!”

“I’m not letting you die.” I was sniffling, my voice broken up by the wad of mucus sitting in the back of my throat. The horde was only feet away.

I started to drag James back a few feet, but then I noticed the revolver out of his holster and in his hands. He shakily brought it upwards and pressed it against his head.

I let go of him. I gulped and shook my head. “James…”

He nodded as I sidestepped a zombie. I ran into the woods when a zombie lunged at James. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

***

The elders of Belmont exiled me when I told them what happened after returning alone with James’ blood literally on my hands. They wanted to hang me, but a handful of men came forward, arguing I did the settlement a favor by getting rid of James.

The first stop I made after leaving Belmont was the intersection of Chapel Hill Avenue and Filmore Street. I needed closure. His revolver and the wheelchair were still there, but his body was gone.

He had turned. I picked up the gun, keeping it as a memento, something to remind me of James, instead of for self-protection, and stuffed it into my jeans.

I followed the road without a destination in mind, the blazing sun beating down on me. I dabbed my forehead with the back of my wrist. James’ stoic face as he pointed the gun at me flashed through my mind every time I blinked. Tears welled behind my eyes, coaxing me to allow myself to cry. I wailed, knees buckling, realizing I was alone and had nobody to judge me.

Or so I thought.

A low voice said, “What’s wrong with you?”

I gasped and raised my head. A middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache, wearing a khaki safari hat, a teal polo, and brown dress pants, stared at me with squinted eyes.

I put out my hand and shook my head, standing up. “I’m not one of them.”

“I don’t know who ‘them’ is, but I’m not either. You hungry?”

I recognized that this man intended no harm. “Yeah. What about water? You got that?”

“I might,” he said. He approached me, furrowing his brow as he sized me up. “You’re just a kid—”

“So? I’ve done horrible things.”

The man laughed as he sat his backpack onto the ground and unzipped the top compartment, handing me a water bottle. “You’re the second kid I’ve come across in two days. Do you know how valuable you kids are… Nevermind.”

I chugged the water and splashed the last of it on my face. I gasped as I rubbed my eyes. “I said I’m a young man. And I don’t know what you mean…. Valuable?”

“Nevermind that.”

I nodded, unsure of this man’s true intentions.

“If you don’t mind me askin’, young man, what you done?”

I froze, deciding whether I wanted to answer truthfully or with sarcasm. Or if I wanted to tell him to fuck off. His toothy grin put me at ease, however. I figured I had nothing to lose. “My best friend is dead ‘cause of me.”

The man’s smile faded. He put his hands on his knees and bent forward before gesturing to the nearby treeline. We sat under the shade.

He spoke softly. “How’d he die?”

I began sniffling. A tear fell down my cheek. I explained how I had tricked James into scavenging with me and then shot him by accident—I emphasized that it was just an accident—and wheeled him to the intersection of Chapel Hill and Filmore, where I left him for dead. I omitted the part where James begged me to leave him, thinking it unimportant.

The man went limp, bloodshot eyes wide as he stared at me.

I chuckled, looking side to side, not sure this man was really safe. “I know. It was a horrible thing to do.”

He stood up, his eyes locked on me. “Kid, I need to show you something.”

I followed the man. If he was a cannibal, or if he wanted to kill me or abuse me, I didn’t care. I deserved bad things to happen to me.

I slowed when he moved a bush aside, revealing a wheel attached to a metal door. A yellow sign attached to the door read, “U.S. Army: Trespassers will be shot on sight.”

The man grinned and pointed at the sign, his eyebrows raised. “That’s so raiders don’t get no ideas.”

“This what you wanted to show me? Your crib?”

“Treasure’s inside.” He rotated the wheel. The door swung out, revealing a staircase that led to another door with vertical handles and a keyhole.

He opened the door at the bottom and told me to head inside. I felt lighter as I walked inside. Shelves full of canned goods, protein bars, and packs of cola and water lined the off-white walls, three closed wooden doors down the corridor.

Looking at the floral pattern of the cloth on the dining table around the corner, I asked, “Why do you ever leave if you have all this?”

The man took off his hat, revealing a balding head of thin dark brown hair. He gave the same toothy grin. “I look for kids like you! Not many of ya out there. That’s what makes all yall so special. So valuable to folk both good and bad.”

The warning bells in my mind turned into air raid sirens. Smiling, I stepped backward. Time for me to skedaddle. I rubbed my neck and placed my hands on the handles, but they wouldn’t budge.

The man continued. “Wouldn’t it be awful if bad folk got his hands on one of you?”

I shook the handles and screamed, “Let me out of here. Let me out!”

The man grabbed my shoulder. “I need you to do something for me, and then you can go.”

I remembered James’ revolver. I pulled it out and aimed it at the man. “I swear to God, I will kill you if you don’t let me out of here right now.”

The man stepped back, patting the air before reaching for one of the wooden doors. “Calm down, kid. I’m on your side. You should see this.”

I approached the man, keeping the revolver trained on him. “I’m not as dumb as you might think. I know how to use this.”

The man furrowed his brows. He pointed inside the room. “Is that what your buddy would say?”

I kept the man in my peripheral vision as I entered the room. I dropped the revolver, and my jaw loosened. A boy lay in a bed with bandages around his bare abdomen, black hair plastered to his forehead. He opened his bright teal eyes. I sprinted over to his side.

James smiled. “Hi, Tyler.”

“I thought you were dead,” I cried. I leaned over and hugged him.

James nodded to the man standing in the doorway. “He showed up right as you left.”

I approached him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Hey, I believe this is yours.” He opened a crate and handed me my rifle.