2: The Rock

‘I will be an enemy unto thine enemies, and an adversary unto thine adversaries.’

- Exodus 23:22






Her name is Zoe. She’s very young. She tells me as we walk that she was a college student. She came up to Seattle to find her brother. He was attending the University of Washington when the hordes hit Seattle.


I think that this is a foolish goal. I haven’t seen anyone except those damned creatures for a few weeks. But I hold my tongue. Her situation is nigh hopeless, and she’s come far for her search. The poor have hope. They must.


We’re on Stewart Street. There used to be a lot of profit in this district. The Westlake Shopping Center, hotels, theatres. Its trash now. The hotels are some of the worst death traps in the city. The wretched smell of decayed flesh wafts out of their windows, spewing the maddening smell into the streets. The theatres were some of the first hold outs for survivors; I never venture into them anymore though. They’re like the hotels now.


They have wasted their substance now with riotous living.


She’s scared. She keeps looking about, a frightened animal on the run. I try to console her. I tell her that God has a plan for her and me. We are two strong spirits, kindred souls. His plan sparred us for reasons we have yet to even fathom. We must trust him, for with the Lord there is mercy.


She says nothing. She hasn’t spoken since we first met. A time to keep silence and a time to speak I suppose.


I tell her that this day is very good for both of us. We have been blessed with good fortune. Thus far, He has seen to keep the beasts from our path.


“This is good luck.”


Luck? Luck has nothing to do with this.


“What do you mean? It’s by pure chance that we met, and we’ve been lucky not to run into any of those zombies this whole time.”


God’s design, Zoe. He always has a plan for us. We may not always understand it, but he always has a plan. He gave me an ally so that I may better do his bidding, and he gave you me as a guide. God doesn’t play with dice.


Silence again. We keep our course.


We come up to Denny Way. She starts to keep on Stewart but I grab her backpack, tell her that you don’t go onto the highway unless there is no other choice. And there’s always another choice.


“Why?”


The first thing that most people tried to do when He began this was to get out of Seattle. Fear of the Lord, that is wisdom. But theirs was cowardice. Like cattle they crowded the highways. And like cattle they were slaughtered in His name, succumbing to His terrible and righteous punishment. Even before the bombs rained it was a bad idea to try and traverse the highway. When the warning was issued though, some people still tried.


There is only death now on that highway. Worse than the hotels, worse than the theatres. It is congested with the refuse of man that was. The rotting masses scramble around the packed lanes. That road lies only to a very quick death.


We turn onto Eastlake Avenue. The REI building is right ahead of us. The exits onto 1-5 are all plugged with cars. The intersection’s strewn with cars that never made it even to the highway. I’m nervous. She’s worse.


We maneuver our way through the long dead traffic. The rain has rusted the cars green. The trees lie dead around the intersection, burned with this unholy water.


We both hear the screams. It’s a hellish sound. I tell her to remain calm, now is not our time…


She bumps a car. An alarm sounds. The din rises to an unbearably rancorous level. From I-5 I hear crowds of them bellow out in confused rage.


There is no time. Follow me. We’ve got to get into a building; these streets are too crowded to fight in.


“Where the hell are we supposed to go though?!”


Just follow me, okay! There’s a large climbing rock in a glass tower attached to the REI building. Run down the entryway path. Come on keep up!


Get to the front door. Try to open it, but it won’t budge. Pull out my shotgun and put a slug through the handle. Door blasts open.


“Where are we going to go? I thought you said buildings are suicide?”


This place has been fortified before; there may still be people left in here defending the place. Close up the door; try to block it as best I can.


“I wouldn’t count on it.” She points. Down the hall, three of those damned creatures turn from feeding on a former comrade.


“This is some shitty luck we’re having.” Draws her pistol.


This isn’t luck; I’ve told you that before. Aim my shotgun.


“Well then what the hell is this?” Fires two rounds. One down, the wall is a new shade of crimson.


The lot is cast into the lap; but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord. Second one helps match the carpet to the wall.


“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” The third one crumples into a heap of gore.


It means stay on my ass. Turn through the halls; find the glass room with the climbing pillar. The people here before were busy. The pillar has a nice platform rigged to the top with rope. Looks to be about thirty feet tall. Should do.


Stow my shotgun. Climb.


We get near the top. I can see the entrance from where I’m at. They pound at the door, a tidal wave of fists crashing at my haphazard barricade. The door goes. Screams fill the glass tower housing the pillar.


We get to the top. She struggles over the side. There’s some provisions up here, and a pistol and rifle. This should be good to hold us for a bit.


She’s shaking with fear. It’s okay, see? We’re not dead. He’s proved Himself to us again. This is meant to be.


She says nothing. Don’t worry Zoe. They’re angry now, but we just need to give them some time to calm down. Patience now. Trust thou in the Lord.


Still nothing. She’s so afraid.


“We’re stuck on top of a rock, with hordes of those, those zombies clawing for our flesh. There’s no way out. We’re gonna die here.”


Did you think you were gonna die back on the viaduct? Her silence speaks her answer.


The Lord works in mysterious ways Zoe. He put us up on this rock for a reason. We just have to figure out why.