Chapter 11

Cursing under her breath. Babs wanted to start screaming but she knew it would draw the zombies. Instead, she picked up King, put him in the cab of the panel truck, and started the half mile drive to the library. Barely looking around, the only stop she made was in front of the pharmacy. Hurrying inside, she took all the batteries off of the small display, then went to the back storeroom. She had already taken all the medication she could use, but she put more vitamins and supplements, all the melatonin gummies, and PPV, into two medication delivery totes. As she pushed the cart out, she stopped and put all Mr. Ocampo had stocked of her particular brand of hair products and soaps in a third tote. She picked up two portable HEPA-filter units and DC/AC adapters while getting all the mentholated vapor rub. "At least, I'll be able to breathe in the truck."

As she walked out, she looked around sadly, remembering all the nights laughing with the pharmacist and his elderly mother who died from the Pandemic Four VRFS like her father.

"Goodbye, Mr. Ocampo."

Loading the totes, Babs hurried to get back in the truck and drive away, as she saw two of the undead residents of Baltimore watching her from the shade of an open garage. She wondered how they got the door open because it was closed last week. She left them behind, then reached over and petted King.

"I guess you and I are going on a road trip, big guy. At least I'm not as allergic to you as I am to all those other long-haired cats."

She backed the panel truck into the drive of the library loading dock. Walking to the rear door, Babs swiped her key card for what she feared was the last time. She showed Theodora the shelves that had the bound books on them. As the centenarian looked at the description she had written on the covers, Babs went downstairs to pack her meager belongings and put her remaining groceries into one of the shopping carts she had taken from the Asian market. Noisily, she dragged the cart up the stairs and then pushed it outside. She loaded it into the back of the panel truck before going back for another load. On the third trip with the grocery cart, she realized she was done except for the medical books and bound notebooks she had made with the claw-comb bookbinder. As she unloaded the cart, she heard a noise behind her..

"I'm almost done, Theodora. I just need to get the books and medical text into the truck. I don't like that the books are loose. Do you think we could stop and get some totes from the..." Babs froze as she turned around and saw the man from the pet store glaring at her. He was covered in bites and bleeding through the bandages he had wrapped around his hands, face, and head. It appeared that he had lost an ear.

"You're not going anywhere," He growled her, almost inhumanly as he climbed up into the truck.

There was nowhere for her to go, nowhere to flee, so she rammed him with the cart slamming him hard to the pavement of the loading dock as she scrambled for the open door of the library. She tried to pull the door shut, but he grasped the edge through the crack and pulled it open with surprising strength. Turning to run down the hall, she was tackled from behind.

"Get off! Get off!" She screeched; rolling over, she began to hit and punch him.

"You did this to me, you bytch. You killed me and I am gonna have some fun before I kill you."

"I don't think so, young man," Theodora's imperious tone caused the man to raise up.

"Theodora, run!" Babs snapped, trying to throw the man off.

"This doesn't concern you, old woman," the man snapped at her.

"Oh, it concerns me a great deal, that's my future great-granddaughter-in-law, and I will kill you to protect her."

The man suddenly punched Babs in the side of the head as she struggled, stunning her.

He stood up, sneering menacingly, "Kill me, eh?" Then he flew backwards into the door.

The boom in the narrow hall deafened Babs as she woozily rolled over and sat up. She watched the man clutching his bloody chest with one bandaged hand as he pawed at the door trying to escape. The afternoon sunlight poured in as the door opened, but he only made it two steps outside before Theodora shot him again. Babs crawled to follow Thedora. Walking up to him, Theodora looked down at him with disdain.

"You can't say I didn't warn you. You should thank me for this is a small mercy that you don't deserve," Theodora announced then she shot him in the head, exploding his brains all over the pavement like a smashed melon.

Clutching the door frame Babs could only stare at her, as she pulled herself to her feet. "You killed him."

"It was him or you, and you haven't met my great-grandson Lenny yet." Theodora walked back into the library looking at the bloody door and frowned, then she turned and reached up to touch Babs's cheek. "Oh dear. Oh dear. I suppose you have a concussion now. Do you think you can still drive?"

"Y-y-yes," Babs stammered, unable to think clearly. "I just need to sit down for a few minutes."

"You can sit down when we get back to my house. Bring the book cart from the elevator, I have selected the books I want to take with us. We also need to stop at the Piedmont to get some of their medical text. I have most of them checked out from just after the start of the latest lockdown, but there are several that they do not let leave the library." Theodora's cane tapped loudly on the marble floor as she murmured, "Yes, they thought they could keep them from me." Then she walked back into the main part of the library leaving Babs standing alone in the hallway with the blood spatter smears on the door, and floor.

Resisting the urge to shake her head in dismay or vomit, Babs went to the cleaning closet and got out several rolls of paper towels and a bottle of bleach. She cleaned up the inside mess left by Theodora's murder of the bitten criminal before she went out to finish emptying the cart and bring it back inside. She dumped the remaining bleach over the corpse, hoping that the zombies wouldn't be able to smell his blood and trap them in the library. Stopping at the supply closet before going upstairs in the elevator, Babs brought the few cardboard file boxes she kept for book culling. She filled them with the information she gathered, grateful that she had made duplicates of it all. One set would remain here, and one would travel with them. If something happened, then at least the information would still be safe for someone else to use.

As she took the cart of boxes out to the truck, she struggled not the cry. Today had shaken her worse than finding Bill's body in the freezer, and she feared she might never be safe. She had always struggled with understanding other people's behavior, she was a facts-on-paper kind of person. Suddenly, she regretted not watching the zombie shows or reading zombie fictions, at least then she might have some inkling of how to expect people to react.

"I know what you're thinking," speaking softly, Theodora looked at her with sad eyes as they took the last set of boxed down. "The zombies are the lesser threat in the dystopia. A wise man once said, 'I don't fear monsters or demons, I fear what real people do to real people.'" She shook her head, adding, "We are about to see if society is civilized enough to survive this or if they will all turn into brigands and pillagers like that young man did."

Babs unloaded the electric car into the truck then struggled to get all the cats into the back before closing the door. She parked the electric car in its space and disconnected the batteries. She didn't know when she would be back, but she hoped it would be someday.

"Poppet, I know you aren't a fan of fiction, but you need to read Max's books. He asked me so many questions. He was a senior fellow at the Modern War Institute at West Point. I do hope he survived." Holding two paperback books, Theodora climbed up into the passenger side and they drove to the Piedmont Institute Library. Babs was not shocked that Theodora had keys to the building and to the restricted circulation area. Another half-dozen carts of books later, they were on the way back to Upper Fells Point after a quick stop at the office supply store to collect all the file boxes and book storage totes. Babette spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening filling and labeling them. Soon the mess of piled books was neatly stacked and secured to one wall with a cargo net.

While Theodora finished dinner, Babs put drums of diesel, and crates of bags of freeze-dried and dried staples on the opposite side of the truck. She was shocked at how much the elderly lady had acquired. There was more than enough food to feed them, but she worried about the cats. They seemed to eat two or three forty-pound bags of kibble a week.

^..^

In her dream, Babs was running up the stairs on one side of the library. She was being chased by the man who attacked her twice. His bloody clothes and half-missing face spurred her to hide. The lights were out and there was only a dim light coming in from the solar intersection light at the corner. She could hear him moving down the next aisle as she ducked around another shelf, trying to get back to the stairs that led downwards. If she could get downstairs and to the hall, she could get outside, glancing out a window she froze. Outside, there was a sea of dead people filling the streets like a flood. There was no way she could escape. If she left the building, the zombies would get her. Turning away from the windows to run and hide in the basement, she screamed as she was grabbed and hugged tightly.

The dead man's face pressed against hers with cold, sliminess as he whispered, "You're not going anywhere; you did this to me. You killed me and I'm gonna have some fun before I kill you."

Babs screamed herself awake and fought her way out of the constricting blankets on the bed in the RV.. Falling hard onto the floor, she was horrified to rub her face and feel that it was actually slimy. Crawling onto her knees, she peeked over the edge of the bed at the pillow expecting to see a head and instead, King the cat was sprawled next to her pillow with a dead trout. He looked so proud of himself, regal.

"How did you get in here?!" She snarled at the cat as she scrubbed her face with her shirt then she tossed the fish and the cat out into the main part of the camper and closed the pocket door to the room. Stripping the pillowcase off, she groaned in disgust because the fish juice had seeped through and onto the pillow.

"Babette, breakfast is ready," Theodora called, opening the RV door.

"Give me a second," Babs answered. She stripped off her fishy smelling shirt and washed her face with a disinfecting wipe as she listened to the crazy old cat lady talking to the marmalade tom.

"Oh, look at this. You're such a good boy to try to woo her with your favorite food, but I don't think she will want a fresh fish from Patterson Pond for breakfast... Here, now, take it and go outside," Theodora murmured as she shooed the cat with his prey outside.

Opening the pocket door, Babs held the shirt, pillow, and pillowcase, "Does he always leave dead fish on pillows for his people?"

"Oh no, he's never done that before. You must be very special to him. King loves to swim, and fish. He usually brings home a fresh trout every week in the summer after the parks department stocks the pond." Theodora sighed, and said, "I guess they won't be doing that anymore. King will be so disappointed."

Barely able to stop herself from rolling her eyes, Babs nodded, "I guess he will be."

"Come, let's eat and get our last hot showers for a while. We need to get on the road, it's a long way to Washington and I worry that the roads will be closed by snow."

"We can always head South and drive on roads that are clear of ice and snow," Babs suggested.

"No, I think it is better if we stay further North. Knowing the infected will freeze and decay means that the cats won't have to work so hard to keep us safe," Theodora announced like she had already made up her mind as they entered the house.

Babs pulled up her mask before she inhaled any more cat fur and dander. She prayed they could make it in a week, two at most, then she would find someplace to hole up without cats, except maybe King. He didn't seem to trigger her allergies as bad as the others.

^-,-^

Two weeks later...

The zodiac boat landed almost silently at the Baltimore Waterfront. Warrant officer Leo Thorpe looked around cautiously. There were muddy footprints but no people. There were far fewer survivors on the east coast, and they could only assume the preference of those on the west coast to eat completely organic food was what saved many.

"Thorpe, what's going on?" Lt. Commander Myers muttered quietly.

After having to go in and kill nearly four thousand of the undead sailors on a Nimitz-class carrier, and then clearing the remaining ships in the strike group, they all knew to make as little noise as possible. Most Captains had not listened to Admiral Lansing's warning and unwittingly killed their own crews by letting the sailors eat Pharaoh's Yeast Extract preserved food.

"They have been here," Leo looked around. He took a whistle from his pocket and blew it silently. Waiting, he became more tense. None of his great-grandmother's cats came. The profound silence of the once bustling, local area was oppressing his hope.

A perfectly preserved zombie in a kimono-styled robe wandered into view. Leo recognized her from a local drag cabaret. It had been one of his favorite places to spend his extra cash when on leave. Her almost-hypnotized expression changed, and she stumbled toward them inelegantly in a caprice of homicidal hunger. The silence thwap of a single shot was the team's custom.

With a cold glare, Senior Chief Norkman lowered his rifle as Lt. Commander Myers ordered in a whisper, "Move out."

The group moved silently, following Leo to the Thorpe family brownstone on Bank Street. The street had more frozen muddy footprints to and from the park, Leo found himself shuddering. Patterson Park had always been a popular place for the residents of Upper Fells Point. No cats slept on the stoop, but there were also no zombies on the street or on that side of the park that they could see. Unlocking the door, they entered silently.

Inside, Leo found a note on the mantel in his great-grandmother's familiar script.

My Boys,

If you are here, I didn't make it there. I am on my way to Kitsap with Dr. Bland. She is quite intelligent and has organized the information on Pandemic Five very efficiently. I will also teach her all I know as we travel. There are comb-bound notebook copies of her data with us and on the second floor of the Enoch Pratt Central Library at 400 Cathedral Street. Check for us along Interstate 90 if we do not arrive at the Cle Elum cottage in a timely fashion. Do not worry, my cats will keep us safe.

The letter contained an unexpected expression of affection which told Leo all her worry in a few words.

I love you Leo and Lionel. Stay Safe. Keep a cat close.

Yours truly, Grandmother Theodora.

He swore silently then handed the letter to the commanding officer. There was a clatter and the whole group turned with their guns raised. Moving cautiously to the backyard, they found several cats. Most fled, but in one of the dogloos under the enclosed carport was a queen with a litter of kittens. The black and white cat seemed to know Leo and mewed at him as he petted her.

"Hey, Molly Moo." Rubbing her chin, Leo then stood and went inside, coming back out with a small pet carrier and a bag of kibble that he handed to Norkman. In the garage, the heater kept it warmer than the air outside.

"Are there more carriers? We need to take some of these back with us," Norkman demanded in almost a growl, pouring the kibble.

"There are three more carriers in the basement," Leo answered, carefully moving the mother and kittens.

"Gather as many as you can. They are going back to the fleet." All Naval personal were ordered to bring found tame cats to the ships if possible. Cats were the only creature the fungal zombies seemed to fear and not attempt to eat. The cats had begun returning as Norkman dragged a second bag of cat food from the kitchen and dumped it in the scattered bowls, while Walsh returned with the pet carriers.

Dropping his cold-blooded façade, Senior Chief Norkman, the largest SEAL, petted the hungry cats. He gently picked up a tiny juvenile and two pregnant females and put them in one carrier with a few handfuls of kibble. "Easy, ladies. We're going on a little cruise."

"We need to go to the library," the commander insisted then he looked at Norkman and Dickson, "Get these Cats to the Maine then meet us... Thorpe, where is the closest extraction point to this Pratt place?"

Pulling out a paper map of Baltimore, Leo pointed out the landmarks. "It will be faster if we take the zodiac to the National Aquarium, but the Pratt Central Library is in the center of the city, about a mile away." Glancing at the overcast sky, Leo scowled. "It's too cloudy, we might not make it."

Lt. Commander Myers grimaced then asked, "Do you think your grandmother will make it to Kitsap with the information?"

Glancing in annoyance at Norkman who was talking in babytalk to the cats, Myers rolled his eyes. One was sitting on his shoulder like a parrot. He had seen that man kill without emotion, but also risk walking into a minefield to rescue a puppy. Myers felt a momentary flash of thankfulness that Norkman's tiny Hawaiian wife and infant daughter were found safe at the animal rescue which they opened with his deployment bonuses. Half the cats on the surviving Navy vessels had come from Norkman's farm.

"If anyone can, she can," Leo responded with confidence. "But if they are snowed in somewhere, she is probably giving this Dr. Bland fits. Theodora doesn't like to be still."

"Alright, let's head back to the fish. We can always come back and get the information later... Kramer, Walsh, Norkman, grab some bags of kibble. Leave more out here for the cats and pack out 60lbs each. Dickson, Thorpe, you're responsible for the four carriers of cats. We need to go before the dead start wandering around."

The group preparedand left the city like they were ghosts. The few zombies they encountered weredispatched by Norkman with a quiet thwap of a silenced shot. Looking back atthe city of his childhood, Leo grieved. The zodiac bounced across the water toa waiting Ohio-class nuclear submarine. The submariners welcomed them and thecats aboard and then the USS Maine vanished beneath the dark gray water,leaving only the reflection of lighter gray clouds on the waves.