Is There Nowhere?

"We're nearly there," Mike Benko declared. Glancing blearily out the window at the empty city below, Jenna Gray raised her head from the seat. The eastern Appalachians were pale smudges on the far horizon as their automobile traveled down an elevated route that hugged Garrett Mountain in North Jersey.

Paterson sprawled, deserted and motionless, beneath Route 80. As the sun rose into the chilly late-September sky, the industrial metropolis lay motionless and black, with neither humans nor zombies stirring in its streets.

That night would be the tenth day since the conflict started and the tenth day after Jenna Gray was evacuated from her house.

"Don't linger if I die," Mike Benko remarked. Head west as far as you can.

If I pass away...

"Do you require strength?" Jenna Gray, exposing her scarred arm, inquired. Mike Benko grimly nodded, bracing himself against the temptation to kill that he would never be able to completely control. This cannot continue indefinitely.

She took her knife out of her pocket and pressed its blade to her tender skin. She extended him her arm after carefully piercing a little artery.

Mike Benko's gaze was drawn to the dripping blood, which stoked an intense desire that tore at his gut. He wanted to eat her, to stop the pain that was tearing at his stomach.

His mouth moved down to her pale, now red-streaked skin, and he drank, holding her shoulder and wrist to draw out the blood.

"Stop—I'm getting lightheaded," Jenna Gray muttered.

Breathing heavily, Mike Benko slowly withdrew, his gaze fixed on the wound. As she attempted to remove her hand, Jenna Gray's anxious eyes locked with his. A stream of blood poured out of the wound as he tightened his grip.

"Leave, Mike Benko."

She held her arm tightly as he let it go. She wrapped the wound in gauze as he sunk back in his chair, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

Mike Benko started the vehicle and drove it east on Route 80 toward Hackensack while fervently hoping Jenna Gray wouldn't have to endure this. Her blood strengthened him as he sucked his teeth, yet her silent pain and dread tore at him in ways that his flesh-lust was unable to satisfy.

They couldn't stay this way.

President Derring surveyed the city's defense from the steps of the courthouse farther down Route 80 in Hackensack. He was accompanied by a thin and pale Vice President Effing, with commanders and generals standing at the bridges into Hackensack.

Cradling his, Effing remarked, "It's almost time." 45 Magnum. "Send out those zombies!"

"Russell, I can't do this," Derring murmured. "I can't stay."

"Then proceed," Effing answered.

The dawn was pierced by the red brilliance of a rocket from the far bank of the stony Hackensack River, which exploded in a flaming explosion on the square in front of the courthouse. Officers in the U.S. Army hurried to the front to direct troops.

"I am unable to leave this location," Effing insisted. "All right, President. The conflict is beginning. Derring turned softly and walked out of the room after he gave him a sidelong glance. Effing came next, holding a pistol.

The ultimate battle broke out below. The opposing bank was lined with zombies, crouching with bows and prone with rifles, releasing a torrent of fire across the creek. Arrows skittered off asphalt, arcing in broad parabolas.

Zombies threw explosives, and American volleys fired back, causing bombs to burst overhead. Leading a platoon to the riverfront, General Rylan, the ranking officer except for Derring, marched into the square.

Derring and Effing came out of the courthouse and stared at the mayhem. Medics were scattered when a mortar exploded on the pavement. Across the river, zombies and the Guard exchanged gunfire in the distance.

"Are we finished? Is this it? Effing gripped his revolver and asked.

Derring flinched as a shell detonated in midair, diving under a pillar as debris showered down. “Russell, this place is dangerous! Come on!

"I refuse to abandon my nation!" Effing roared.

"Switch the deck!" Rylan called out from the plaza. His legs were severed by another blow, leaving him immobile in the road. As doctors raced to the general, Derring put a palm to his brow.

"I'm leaving," Derring declared. "I give up."

As Effing calmly stroked his pistol and kept his gaze on the zombies approaching the bridge, he murmured, "John, there's nowhere to run." But leave. I'll remain.

After giving his country one last look as president, Derring turned and disappeared behind the columns of the courtroom, leaving Effing by alone. To locate his cabinet, the vice president, who is now president Effing, went back inside the building.

Officials rummaged through escape plans and military documents in the lobby. Effing moved past, into an adjacent chamber where his final member of the Presidential Cabinet, Anna DuPont, and Steve Marquet were waiting.

As Effing drew closer, they stood together, DuPont looking shaken and Marquet about to snap like Derring.

"The nuclear codes," stated Effing. Six, one, one, nine, four, four, one, two, seven, one, nine, four, eight, seventeen, two hundred and sixty-six. I'll say it again: write it down.

The sequence was scrawled by Marquet.

Effing informed Anna, "Secretary DuPont, you are dismissed." She remained perplexed until he said, "Get out of the city. Get out right away because we're destroying everything within twenty miles.

DuPont gave an automatic salute and replied, "Thank you, Mr. Vice President," relief illuminating her pale face.

"Derring resigned—it's Mr. President now."

Before leaving, she embraced a stiff Effing and a shaken Marquet and remarked, "It's been an honor to serve."

“Okay, Steve,” Effing started. "Let's move."

Marquet swallowed hard and continued, "I have bad news."

"What?"

"We received reports today," Marquet said. "Tokyo is no longer there, Russell—it's fallen to Variant Cs. We cannot return home even if we tried since zombie cells have been triggered in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago, and Washington, D.C.

“Everything?” Effing asked quietly while gazing at the ground. "Everything gone?"

Marquet stated grimly, "The Great Plains are the last holdout." Every major American city is plagued with Variant Cs, including Cincinnati, New Orleans, Denver, and Atlanta. No way out. Here we are, fighting until the very end.

Effing shut his eyes, deep in contemplation. They were surrounded by zombies on all sides.

"Get the codes ready," he urged. To start our arsenal, put the governor of South Dakota on the line. I want all of the zombie-infested American cities—including Variant Cs—to be turned to dust.

Marquet picked up a paper and a phone.

As Effing rattled his brain, he added, "launch missiles at Rome, London, Paris, Beijing, Tokyo, New Delhi, Johannesburg, Cairo, Baghdad… for the world."

The last battle broke out. With unarmored swordsmen wading the river, Tobey Colins led his armored Variant C company in a storming of Hackensack Bridge. They were surrounded by bullets, but the American resistance broke down.

"Into the city!" Tobey screamed. His generals and advisors, Thorpen, Von Dornen, and Father Robson, yelled enthusiastically behind him as they broke through enemy territory.

"Wherever humans may be found, kill them all!" Robson gave the order. The streets of Hackensack were inundated with variant C streams, which were occasionally stopped by intense machine-gun fire. Gathering his bodyguards, Tobey made his way across the industrial, smoke-filled riverbanks.

His time had come—the courts loomed ahead.

The noise of combat was already resonating when Mike Benko and Jenna Gray arrived at Hackensack's edge. On Route 80, VIPs stopped their Saturn close to an off-ramp and were whisked eastward by black automobiles.

A wooded hill with offices, clinics, and hospitals atop it ascended to the west. Route 80 extended eastward across the Hackensack River into the steep, marshy region of Overpeck. The abandoned Teaneck Armory lay to the northeast. In Hackensack's downtown, the courthouse loomed north between mid-rise offices, apartments, and schools.

Rockets flashed through the sky, and smoke billowed in front of the courtroom. As Mike Benko and Jenna Gray exited the vehicle, the sound of gunshots and the clatter of zombie armor filled the air as they looked out over the city.

"What are we going to do?" With a nervous shift and a trickle of blood leaking from her bandages, Jenna Gray inquired.

Mike Benko moved closer as he stared at the red line. She stumbled backward.

I'm afraid of you, Mike Benko.

He pulled out his knife and mashed his teeth. "Jenna Gray," he said, his eyes sparkling with the hunger of a predator. At the edge of the bridge, he moved toward her.

He raised the blade with a grunt that was deep. Jenna Gray backed against the barrier and tightened her fists.

"No, Mike Benko!"

She changed her position and pulled out her own knife as he rushed. With a puzzled expression on his face, he froze, sword raised. She quickly shoved him back and cut a huge gash over his chest.

She raised her shaky knife and admonished, "Don't come closer." The sun went down. Mike Benko paused, his brown eyes wide as he gazed at her.

With his weapon lowered, he said, "Jenna Gray." She pulled her sleeve over the wound that was bleeding.

She yelled, "Stay back!" and circled back to the car. She reached the hood, ten feet away, and Mike Benko leaned against the barrier, stunned.

"Jenna, go," he commanded sternly. "Take the route west to Pennsylvania. Get out and be safe.

Jenna Gray eased back her knife despite his onslaught just moments earlier. "How about you?"

"If I come, I'll kill you," he answered. Drive to the plains in the automobile. I will continue to support Hackensack. It won't be long.

She begged, "Mike Benko." "I'm at a loss for words."

"Good luck, Jenna Gray," he replied softly, letting go of his dread and grief. "I'll be all right."

Starting the engine, she moved into the driver's seat. She accelerated and pulled away as gunshots exploded nearby. He waved for a moment, and she waved back.

As Jenna Gray disappeared into the plains to the west, Mike Benko grinned. He turned around and looked back at the metropolis, a front-row seat to the end of the world.

Armoured troops surrounded Tobey Colins as he stood in the flower gardens of the courthouse. The buildings were bombarded by stolen American artillery, which destroyed offices where Guardsmen were holding their positions.

The atmosphere inside the courthouse defied hopelessness as Variant Cs knelt and fired at the windows. Effing planned the last stand in a bunker below.

He slammed his hands on the table and exclaimed with wild pleasure, "They believe they can defeat the President of the United States." "Start the arsenal—set the codes."

Steve Marquet answered, "Yes," and dialed South Dakota. "All targets have been confirmed. Launch missiles at 07:30 Eastern Time.

"Verified," was the response. "Over and out."

With the sound of explosions and shockwaves echoing from above, Effing reclined back. Unaffected by the Holocaust, he sat safely in his bunker.

He thought, almost relieved, "It's the end of the world as we know it." "And I feel good."

The courthouse was rocked to its foundation by a mortar strike. Effing looked up, satisfied. "I adore that song."