They heard the growl. The call to surrender. But it was far, and weak.
They had time, they had entire minutes. And that seemed better than anything Ken could remember. An eternity of safety. He almost didn’t know what to do with himself.
Start a new hobby, Ken.
Build a business, Ken.
Sail around the world, Ken.
Figure out what the hell’s going on with your kids, Ken.
The last was troubling, and impossible to figure out. At least for now. He shelved it.
They ran around a final series of half-demolished buildings. The structures stood gray and already seemed to be crumbling in the harsh light of the day, an apocalyptic scene that seemed months into the dissolution of society, not mere days.
How far can we fall? How fast?
The speed at which everything had crumbled was astonishing. The rot had set in, not merely among the undead, but among the basic structures of life before the Change. Everything was moving too fast. Ken felt like he was on top of an ice floe heading toward a waterfall. Trying to keep upright, trying to balance, trying at the same time to jump to a new location that would no doubt provide footing just as treacherous as the spot he had just abandoned.
They turned a final corner.
No more buildings ahead. Just empty space. A long straightaway for a while, more buildings in the distance, but nothing for at least half a mile.
But Elijah was slowing down.
“A beauty, ain’t she?” he said.
Ken didn’t understand. And then he did. He looked at the one thing between them and the next bit of civilization.
Buck was a bit faster on the uptake. “Are you totally fricking kidding me?” he said. He glanced at Maggie, apparently remembering her giving people an earful over choices of language in front of the kids. She didn’t look back, and Buck looked relieved that “freaking” wasn’t on the forbidden list.
Elijah nodded. “That’s my baby.”
Then he turned to face the group. Theresa did, too. And they were both holding guns. Theresa had hers pointed at Buck, and Elijah’s was directly centered on Maggie.
No, Ken realized. Not at Maggie and Buck.
They were aiming at Hope and at Lizzie.
48
Ken moved. The calm before had been the eye; now he was the hurricane.
But before he could take more than a step, someone grabbed him. An arm went around his throat, cinching in tight. He felt the hand at the end of the arm clasp something.
Figure four. A good one.
The thoughts were automatic. They were also the last ones that were fully-formed and conscious before black threads began weaving across his vision.
A proper choke hold does not cut off air. Going without air is not a full choke to martial artists. It is suffocation, and suffocation can be endured for seconds or even minutes.
A choke, a true choke, however, is much more dangerous. It cuts off both air and the passage of blood from heart and lungs to head. It causes the brain to lose oxygen. It causes unconsciousness in seconds. If held longer than ten or twelve seconds it can cause paralysis, brain damage, death.
Ken saw the black move across his eyes.
What’s going on? Wazzgoinon?
He saw Christopher move at him. Saw a boot kick out and catch the young man in the solar plexus, dropping him. Maggie screamed. Buck clearly wanted to move but just as clearly didn’t know what to do while still holding Hope and facing down the barrel of a gun.
Ken disappeared into black.
49
Tok-tok.
Tok-tok.
Tok-tok.
Tok-tok.
Ken had a Big Wheel trike when he was a kid. He loved the feel of the plastic grips, the streamers his parents bought him and the way they waved behind the grips when he went so fast it felt like he could fly.
But he especially –
(Tok-tok.
Tok-tok.)
– loved the sound. The big plastic circle at the front going over the seams in the sidewalk cement, followed by the sound of the two smaller back wheels following suit.
Tok-tok.
Tok-tok.
It was the Big Wheel that he rode back to consciousness. The Big Wheel that he took back with him, riding on it and somehow smiling even though the worst had happened.
Tok-tok.
Tok-tok.
(Aaron did it Aaron did it he knocked me out and dropped Christopher and what the hell is going on?)
Tok-tok.
Tok-tok.
Ken opened his eyes. The Big Wheel disappeared.
He couldn’t see anything. He thought he was blind for a moment, wondered if Aaron had held the choke too long. Another irony: to survive the zombies and be destroyed by his friend.
Then he realized that he could feel fabric across his eyes. The darkness wasn’t absolute, it was the filtered black of a blindfold.
At the same moment he felt thick fingers. Heard a familiar voice.
“I’m going to take this off. Please don’t act crazy or it goes back on.”
The blindfold came off. It wasn’t much brighter without it. Ken was sitting in what he instantly recognized as a train.
Tok-tok.
Tok-tok.