Promenade Springs, California, was the last resort.
And I mean the last resort.
The Golden Coast was a verifiable A-grade shitshow, and we were in the thick of it.
And WHAT ELSE could it be to ruin my vacation, but goddamned motherfucking ZOMBIES!?
"Go fish."
"Damnit."
I draw another card. 3 of Hearts. Of course.
I throw down my hand. "I resign, I can never win this fucking game. It's all luck. Can't we play Chess or something?"
Petey shook his head. "Matt, nobody wants to play that shit. Just like you don't know how to play Poker, we don't know how to play Chess."
"That's bullshit and you know it! I offered to teach you, didn't I?"
"We also offered to teach you how to play Poker!"
"Yeah, but I don't like gambling"
"And we don't like nerd shit!" chimed in Harper.
We both turned to Harper, immediately telling her to "Shut the fuck up, Harper!"
All three of us giggle, and then my boyfriend walks into the room. Short hair, cute earrings, and a sense of style that would give a runway model a heart attack but melts mine. Gotta love Clee.
"Actually, he's a geek."
"Clee, if I didn't love you I'd hate you so fucking much right now," I say with a smile.
**
I'd say everyone in the room was looking pretty good, under the circumstances.
We were at a resort near Pismo when the infection started.
Harper was in her mid-30s, early 40s if you wanted to be rude. Still fit and able-bodied though. She had come with her husband, but lost him in the chaos running through the town, and ended up here. She had the rasp of a smoker, but didn't smell of the stuff. She drank like an irishman, though.
Petey came alone, with nothing but his suit and that mob-boss accent; I couldn't tell if it was Italian, some kind of New Yorkish, or fake. Oh, and he had a fucking deagle. And a pretty big knife. Couldn't tell you what kind, though; never been a huge knife guy myself.
My boyfriend and I were clad in cosplay armour and real swords. We saw that a ren-fair was being held out here, and decided to trek it all the way from Arizona. His name is Cleo, and he's always been a big geek for that medieval shit, and I can't say no to him. I'm more of a sci-fi guy myself, and he never failed to go to the various conventions with me when I just had to get the signature of the author of my latest hyperfixation. It works. That's why I love him.
Plus I wanted to rent and ride a quad again. It'd been a while since I'd done that. So we made our reservations and came to the resort that struck a good compromise between, "We can afford this!" and "It isn't a Motel 6." We packed our bags for a weeks' stay, and hit the road. The clothes he was in right now- a tight-fitting but modest outfit, for our dinner date, were even better than I had hoped. Gotta look good when the APC shows up, right?
**
The military had been evacuating as many people as they could possibly fit into those huge ass trucks and APCs they drove by the resort. Us four were the only ones they couldn't fit into the trucks without mass protest. I did hear a couple people saying to "Leave the fags behind!", so I wan't too mad I wouldn't be riding with them.
They said they'd be back. One APC to pick up the four of us. We did what any rational people would do and spread out on the penthouse floor as we watched the city burn around us. Petey managed to find some cards and shit, and we started playing games and watching the news. The states and National Guard surrounding Cali were holding up pretty well, all things considered. There were plenty of people to turn into zombies, though- they'd have a hell of a time once they had an exodus out.
...Maybe that's where our APC was held up. Trying to hold the front line instead of worrying about four nobodies enjoying their time alone in a resort.
I felt the tears and the panic welling up inside me again. I excused myself and stepped out onto the balcony, taking some deep breaths and doing those exercises my therapist had suggested. Now was not the time to let those thoughts sink in. I looked down, and got a sense of vertigo. Especially not now, now.
fwofwofwofwofwofwofwofow
I looked up. Was that...?
fwofwofwofwofwofwofwo
"HELICOPTER!!!"
Everyone else flooded out onto the balcony.
"Sonovabitch, we rated a helicopter??" exclaimed Petey, "Either way, it's about goddamned time!"
"We need to signal them somehow, and clear a place to land!"
"...Guys?"
"How the hell are we gonna signal them???"
fwofwofwofwofwofwofwofwofwo
"Guys!?"
"I have no clue, but you can figure that out as Petey and I clear the roof."
fwofwofwofwofwofwofwofwofwofwo
"GUYS!"
"Yes, Cleo???"
"It's not stopping!"
BANG
Smoke trailed up as secondary explosions echoed down the street, just short of our paradise. It began to billow, and rapidly go straight-up out of control in a matter of minutes as we sat and watched.
Crickets.
"Crap."
I want to show this story as it is so far to everyone, but I'm not done yet. As such, I'll keep updating this writeup to try and continue things along.