White Noise

“I miss NASCAR.”

“Shut your stupid face.”

“I’m serious. I miss Talladega.”

I munched on a bag of stale Cheetohs while Ryan rambled on and on about his previous redneck life. I couldn’t really say much, because I missed that as much as he did. I missed road trips to race tracks, watching a lot of brain dead idiots drive around in circles, watching car crashes and white trash with beer guts eating nachos in the stands. The roar of the cars as they drove by, or watching the restart after the caution was lifted.

“I also really miss muddin’,” Ryan stated. He grabbed the bag from my hands.

“Give me those back, you dick waffle.” I reached for the bag, snatching it back and smiling victoriously. “Remember when we got my Jeep stuck in that mudhole out in Chickenfoot?”

“And my brother had to come pull us out?” Ryan laughed. “Those were good times, man.”

I smiled again, thinking about how cool life was. How cool we thought we were, revving it up on a Friday night after class, finding any and every mudhole we could find. Lila, ever the trooper, always tagging along right behind us.

“I miss watching CSI,” Lila spoke up, grabbing her knitting needle from one of the Tupperware boxes. We’d stored them all in the “tower” so that we could keep everything in one place.

“We need to go scouting, guys,” I chewed on my lip. “We’re running low on water.”

“We’ve gotten tons of water from the houses around here,” Ryan countered.

I shook my head. “If we’re setting up here permanently we need more than that. We have maybe a month supply, if that, and it isn’t enough.”

“Who said anything about staying here permanently?” Lila raised her voice, dropping her hands into her lap.

“We all agreed on it, remember?” Ryan rolled his eyes. “It’s safe here!”

Lila started to cry. Jesus Christ, the stupid bitch started to cry.

“Dammit, Holland!” Ryan rushed to sit by her in one of the window seats.

“What the fuck did I do?”

“I dunno,” Ryan sighed, exasperated.

I was ill, tired of being in that small space, and tired of hearing the rain hit the windows. “I’m going down stairs.”

As I trudged downward, I heard Lila call, “Okay you coward! Go outside and smoke your stupid life away. It’s not like we don’t have enough issues as it is without you having lung cancer!”

“Shut up, Lila, leave him alone.”

At least Ryan still had my back. Sometimes.

---

I decided to take advantage of what would be a ten minute drive to town. We needed more supplies, needed more first aid, and I needed a break.

It was no longer raining, but the thick moisture hung in the air and the thunder still rumbled in the distance. The ground was wet, the sky a putrid gray. There were no radio signals, but I put in an old Toby Keith CD I found in the console. It was music, something to pass the time, even though country twang patriotism isn’t really all that important anymore.

It was so unusual that I went on these “raids” alone. It was crazy and irresponsible, to not at least let them know what I was doing. It was reckless, and I think I really needed that.

I came to a house right outside of the city, the first in a series of houses lining the highway. I pulled into the driveway and shut off the van. I could hear moaning in the distance, and picked up the wooden bat I’d previously found.

I approached the door, which happened to be unlocked. And what did I find when I opened the door? One of those damn decomposing skinbags.

“Shit.”

It lunged at me, jaws snapping. It was missing an eye, skin was falling off the face.

“You. Fucking. STINK.” I swung the bat, smashing the head in a gory display of blood splatters.

After stepping over the dead carcass of rot, I examined the room in which I stood. Beige walls, damask curtains, leather couches. It looked so dingy from the outside, but the inside was pretty nice. A real bachelor pad.

I looked through the cabinets in the bathrooms and the kitchen, and found nothing more than a box of bandaids and a half empty tube of Neosporin. We racked up on water, luckily, there were three packs of Dasani in kitchen floor.

“Someone liked to shop at Sam’s,” I mumbled, picking up a pack to move it by the door.

I finally got the water back in the car, just in time to see company coming my way. I shook my head, wondering if it would be easier to bash the three Zoms’ heads in, or just drive on.

Just as I was getting ready to make a move, there was a gunshot.

Two.

Three.

Coming from the walls of the city, I also heard a scream that pierced my brain. Luckily for me, that distracted the scrotum lookalikes. But whoever was on the shooting side of that gun didn’t sound so lucky.

I was just getting into the van when I heard cries for help. And I’ll be damned if I didn’t start caring right at that fucking moment.