Numbered

Chapter 18 - Home Sweet Home

Zeke was aroused from his unconsciousness by strong rays of light beaming through the driver's side window. He turned his head away with a groan; the light was not helping with the splitting headache that was tormenting him. Touching his head, he felt caked on dried blood from a cut he received when he banged his head. He also had a coppery taste in his mouth. He must have bit his lip or cheek right after hitting his head. Moving stiffly, he turned sideways and kicked the door open, feeling to lazy too actually open it. Surprisingly, it tore off its hinges like it was poorly glued together, hitting the ground with a loud clang. Stepping out of his second totaled car, he flattened out his hand over his eyes to block out the sunlight. Towering directly in front of him was a vaguely familiar mountain range. Thinking about it for only a second brought back the headache in a wave of immense pain.

Tearing his gaze away, he glanced around him to see if there was anything he could use. There was a lot of wood, mud, metal scraps, and debris. Among the debris, to his disgust, were bodies lying strewn about; some were piled on top of one another and others were several feet from other bodies. It was like a giant had played dollhouse and decidedly got bored, tossing them around like toys to show its dissatisfaction. Though, as many bodies as there were, there was only one that sickened him the most, Angelica's. She laid a mere few feet away, face-down in the dirt and one arm outstretched over her head. Limping over, he knelt down beside her and pulled her into his lap. Brushing her dirty hair from her face, he planted one last goodbye kiss on her forehead. Suddenly, out of curiosity, he glanced behind him and it dawned on him about where he was standing. He was at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. He was already halfway home. Mother Nature could be useful when she wanted to be.

Walking down the length of the range, he tried to spot some sort of road that could make traveling easier. If he did not have to hike over the rocky terrain, he might be able to make it to the other side before sunset. Trying his hardest to be respectful of the dead, he stepped only upon open ground, though having a limp did not help in the slightest. He looked at his watch, wondering how much time he might have to make progress, but a frown crossed his face instead. The glass was completely cracked and there was no way to tell the time. With a grunt, he resumed his trudge, feeling more like a zombie now than a person. He kept his eyes to the ground, not wanting to know how far the bodies stretched, but looking down did not help either. He could see into some of their eyes and the shock they held at their sudden death. There were some whose bodies were round with massive water intake. Some of their mouths were filled to the brim with a brownish liquid, confirming the former observation.

Looking in the direction of the mountains, he caught sight of a path that appeared fairly worn. Upon nearing it, he turned around and looked back in the direction of the West Coast. Imagining the muddy water was removed, he recognized the path he and Jake had taken to come here in the first place. With an awkward dance of victory, Zeke spun back around and excitedly hobbled up the path. He would be home, back to the place where this whole mess began. The thought was both reassuring and frightening. He knew he was not going to set foot in his house. He would not be able to bear seeing his mother lying on the floor, eyes glazed over and staring blankly into space. Shaking the thought from his head, he put his mind back on his task ahead. Just worry about getting home in one piece first, he thought.

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Zeke was stumbling down the road, his beyond well beyond the point of exhaustion. His hike through the mountain path turned out to be much longer than he had anticipated. He thought it would have only taken him a day or a day-and-a-half tops. Turns out, it took him two-and-a-half days. Knowing he could not walk at night, he found a cave or rocky outcrop where he could rest until morning. The first night his only discomfort was not having anything soft to rest his head upon. The second night, he took off his shirt and crumpled it into a ball. It turned out to make a respectable pillow. The weather was warm both nights, so he was never cold at any point. Right now, he was so exhausted that another step seemed out of the question. Yet, he kept on taking another step, another step toward home, another step to memories both good and bad.

He was currently a day out of the mountains and more than ready to reach home. He already collapsed a couple times from extreme fatigue. As a result, he ended up sitting down for a few minutes just to build a little strength back up to carry on. Raising his head, he could just make out the fuzzy outline of something in the distance. At his current rate, another day or two away. At the sight of this outline, he caught a sudden surge of hope and, with it, a burst of energy. He took off at a run, his eyes never leaving the outline in the distance. He ran for as long as he could, ignoring the pain in his body and the complaints in his head, until he could not any longer. Raising himself onto his hands and knees, he looked toward the outline again; it was so much closer, but still so far away. Maybe it was all a hallucination. He hadn't had food or water in almost three days.

No, he thought. I am not giving up here. Pushing himself to his feet, he continued his forward march. As he walked, he had a sudden urge to look to his left, back toward the mountains. A glint caught his eye and he almost did not stop, thinking it might have been lost jewelry. It was the way the object glinted that made him stop. A piece of jewelry would have given off a smaller reflection. This reflection was much larger. Veering off his course, he approached carefully then abandoned all sense of caution. He dropped to his knees and shoved his face into the water, drinking as much as he could possibly fit into his mouth. It tasted dirty, but who the hell cared; it was water. Sitting back onto the ground, he wiped his arm over his mouth. Surprisingly, he felt fairly rejuvenated; it was amazing what a little water could do.

Jumping to his feet, he started off at a run once again, his excitement about returning home burning at his insides. With each second, the town drew closer, only serving to make him run faster. He could hardly contain himself. He bent slightly forward and put all he could into running. If he could sprint he would, but any time he tried, he always tripped over himself, so running would have to suffice. He felt his legs burning as he continued his final stretch, begging to stop so they could have a rest. He could feel the sweat pouring down his face from the overexertion. He tried his best to ignore it all, but it soon got the better of him. He steadily slowed down until he came to a calm walk. Looking up, he was going to estimate how far away he was from town. A puzzled expression came over his face as he looked behind him, then back forward. There was no way he could have traversed that whole distance that quickly, but yet he had.

He was at the edge of the town, at the edge of his home.