Blue Tape

Blue daisies were her favorite. Or Felicia Amelloides were her favorite. They’re the same thing; one name just sounds smarter than the other.

Looking at the bright blue duct tape, it reminded Karmen of those specific flowers. Her mother used to plant them on special occasions. Usually that special occasion would be her birthday. Her mother would come into her bedroom and wake her with the best smelling chocolate waffles known to man-kind. Karmen would spot the blue daisies in the corner of the room and smile at the originality. Everything was so simplistically sweet back then…

Yesterday was Karmen’s birthday. Was it her 21st or 22nd? Who knows. It’s hard to keep track when you live in a wasteland of decomposing corpses. There’s a lot going on in her mind.

For instance, Karmen was given the task to repair the door on the busted and discarded train she and her group had been living in for the last three months. The door had been broken in by one of the necromancers in a quick and hostile battle that ended in the death of two of her group members. Karmen was caught up in the same fight and had broken her nose. She had a bloody, crusty gauze-wrapped organ below her eyes to show for it.

Her group-leader Maria had set down a various array of supplies on one of the steel drawers inside the third train car. Looking at it now, Karmen realized it wasn’t so much supplies as they were helpless nick-nacks with some useful duct tape and a hammer. Maria said to “be resourceful” and to “not screw it up even worse”.

Karmen picked up the hammer and searched the floor for any fallen nails. Unfortunately, there weren’t any nails in sight, only discarded shards of glass and plastic. When Maria said to be resourceful, she meant it with the utmost sincerity. Karmen began to inspect the unhinged door part. She was careful not to touch the blackened part that was undoubtedly the bittersweet touch of one of the necromancers. It was a solidified and serious rule not to touch the darkened spots left behind by them. They were poison to the touch. One slip of the finger, and a person could be convulsing from head to toe in seconds. The only good thing about the touch was the fact that it produced a fertilizer-type wax that helped grow food. Once the darkened spot turns into a harsh orange color, the wax could be filed off and used for agricultural purposes. Karmen had once even seen a sapling of a tree rooted in the necromancer wax. It was interesting stuff. The same stuff would have intrigued her floral crazed mother if it had not killed her first.

The door was bent the hell out of shape. The necromancer must have tried to punch a hole through it to get inside. Apparently, it had succeeded. Johnny was the first to tell the group of what was trying to get inside the train car. The whole team had been sat down in the dining hall in order to discuss their next operation. That meeting did not end in the intended form.

Karmen slid her fingers across the frame of the door. Realistically, the door should be completely replaced. There was nothing Karmen could do to fix it. She thought about going to the back and collecting some wood to board up the open space. But how could she properly board it up without nails? The blue duct tape was her best option. She could apply layers of tape to the door hinge to keep it permanently shut. She could then seal the inside door frame to reinforce the shut-in barricade.

Once done with her project, she assessed the tape and straightened out any protruding edges. She smirked to herself because she knew that this make-shift barrier would only last a couple days. Something was bound to happen. That meant she needed to pursue her second option. Despite her being the engineer of the group, there was little even she could do. They lacked a great amount of supplies and food. Not from lack of trying. The hits just kept on rolling. The moment they’re able to stand on their own two feet, something earth-shattering would happen. People would die and the necromancers would continue to prevail.

Karmen thought a lot about the past five years. She thought a lot about the specific time and day when the world seemed to cave in from under her. Her whole life had ceased to exist in the very moment. In that year, the world had been trying and failing to combat a growing disease that plagued every nation from developing to developed. The disease created black, leech-like sores that infested the human body. The disease could only be transferred by touch. People grew a harboring distrust with one another. Fear presided over reliance on human kind. Once you caught it, there was almost a 95% chance of death. People were dropping like flies. Burying the dead became a daily ritual for the majority of the population.

The day it all happened, Karmen had been watching cartoons at home. Everyone was instructed to stay home unless you were burying or burning corpses. It was important to discard the diseased remains in a safe and protective fashion. There were important instructions and restrictions on how to do it. Karmen’s mother was out helping their neighbor bury his dead wife. She said she would be back in an hour.

Karmen was spread out on the floor in front of the tv. Half-listening and half-doodling with her marker set, she barely noticed the television turn black. What she heard next, haunts her every waking moment. It gives her incessant chills that course through her arms and down her spine.

A loud and unifying amber alert rang out in what seemed to be the entire city. Every television, radio, phone, and electronic imaginable struck this sound in an eardrum-pulverizing minute. To Karmen, it sounded like the devil had hacked the city and was preluding the end of humanity. Nothing could shake her like that sound. An electronic voice jumped in after the ringing. 

The dead were rising. Not just rising, but killing. And as soon as the killing started, Karmen’s game for survival initiated. The dead, or what Maria calls the necromancers, verses the dying race of humans. Five years have gone by and she is still struck dumb on how she has made it this far. Maria said it was by the skin of her teeth. Karmen whole-heartedly agrees, but a part of her feels that her resourcefulness was the salvation she so desperately needed.

Karmen walked back down to her boxy room. She knocked hesitantly on the door before inviting herself back in. Group members tended to sleep near each other in case something went south. She and old-man Harold shared a bunk. They were yin and yang in many ways. He was weak. She was strong. He was a mentor. She was in need of a mentor. He often fiddled with a radio and hid things from Maria. Old-man Harold was just the person she needed.

“Harold, I need you to be completely honest with me. It’s important”.

Harold doesn’t look up from his radio and screw. They tend to have these life or death conversations quite weekly.

“I’m always honest. Been honest with you longer than I been honest with God”. He pauses with his work and chuckles at Karmen’s dead pan gaze.

“Whad’ya want?”

Karmen sits on the chair opposing the bunk bed. “You got any roofing nails stashed away? I need it for the door.”

Old-man Harold scratches his chin in reflection. Karmen already knew the answer to this question. She cheekily mouths the word yes to him and he disapprovingly shakes his head.

“Nope. Don’t think I have those anymore”. Karmen rolls her eyes and gives an elongated sigh. 

“Don’t do that. I know you got them somewhere. Just tell me where and I’ll steal a couple apples for you from the storage unit”.

He continues to fiddle with his work. “Three.”

Karmen bites her tongue, but stays rooted to the chair. “Deal, Mr. Harold”.

Old-man Harold shakily stands up and shuffles over to his drawer of mismatched, miscellaneous items. Some of which were old keys. He pulls out a slender pad-lock key and tells Karmen to head south along the train to the second woody shrub she sees. Then to dig along the brush to find a steel box. There she would find an abundance of roofing and framing nails.

Karmen trails the train while keeping her eyes on the spacious distance of the desert in order to keep distance between her and danger. Farther south, she could see an abandoned home. They had ransacked the place a couple months back. Now looking at it, she felt a tinge of self-pity. It reminded her of the house she and mother used to visit in the summers. A home that had belonged to her great-grandfather. Her life used to be so goddamn simple. Karmen sighs and releases the hopeful energy that life could go back to normal someday. Maybe it could. Probably won’t though. For now she’s gotta focus on the present. She has to focus on all her tasks. 

For now she’s got to find the steel box and continue her fight for survival.