Foamers by Justin Kassab

“Let’s
catch our breath, and then we can clear the road.”
    Kade hurried away from the two groups to the glass refrigerators in the back of
the store. The intensity of the moment made him feel like a balloon that just had
all of its air let out. He opened the refrigerator door and let the air dry the sweat
beading on his forehead. He snatched a half-gallon of chocolate milk and took a few
gulps, loving the feel of the cold liquid in his mouth.
    “Thirsty much?” Ashton asked as she leaned against the refrigerator unit.
    Kade wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. “You trust her?”
    “I know her. We played together for close to six years. Would I trust her to carry
her weight and play hard every game? Yeah, but I can’t say this is the same situation.
I never cared much for her brothers. They look at me like a lot of guys do—like I’m
some kind of meat—which just seems silly now. If you’re asking me if I think they
should come along, yes, but this is your area of expertise,” Ashton replied.
    “I can’t say I really know what I’m doing here.”
    “Everyone has faith in you.” She held a small, brown paper–wrapped rectangle, about
the size of a harmonica. “I was going to give you this for Christmas.”
    For a moment, he forgot all of his problems and took the deceivingly heavy package.
He peeled back the single piece of duct tape. Lying on the unwrapped paper was a
set of blue rubber knuckles.
    “Do you like them?” she asked.
    Kade hugged her to him while he slid the knuckles onto his right hand, feeling the
comfort of their fit.
    * * *
    After grabbing some food, the two groups set out into the rain to clear the blocked
road. As Kade eyed the long line of cars, he realized that his time table was hopeless.
    He walked the dotted white line between the dead cars toward the blocked intersection.
On both sides, the parking lots of super mart stores and restaurants lay silent.
He felt like he was wandering between tombstones. A chill ran the length of his spine,
causing him to stop and wipe the rain from his brow as he slung his shotgun over
his shoulder. This time, it was fear. The whole world had gone to sleep and never
awakened. Death didn’t just await him now; it lurked around every corner in the
Primal Age. His fear wasn’t for himself, but for his friends.
    Ear-splitting screeches pierced the air, sending his heart into overdrive. He calmed
his nerves as a flock of seagulls took flight. He let out a sigh, happy that something
was the same.
    He continued along the line to where he could see the accident ahead of him. At the
intersection, a car making a left had been T-boned. This would have been when people
called 911, only to realize that no help would come. Some of the cars in the line
were left with their doors wide open, where the passengers had abandoned them. The
engines left running had overheated and caught fire.
    The creepiest were the cars with closed doors, which served as Pharaoh’s tombs to
their passengers. He tried not to look inside, but stopped at a white Prius. There
was a baby, still strapped into a car seat, its head slumped forward. The sight turned
Kade’s stomach. The driver of the car moved in a mannequin-like fashion. The woman’s
eyes met Kade’s. Before he thought, he opened the door.
    “Ma’am, it’s going to be—”
    The woman pounced on him. The heels of his shoes slipped on the wet asphalt and they
crashed to the ground. His hands clenched her wrists, keeping her body suspended
above him. The rain ran off her face, collecting with the red foam around the corners
of her mouth, and dribbled onto his neck. Her hair dangled around her head, like
a raging octopus, as she bared her teeth. Kade’s heart pounded so loudly he didn’t
hear the gunshots, but he saw the side of her head burst in a red cloud.
    Kade heard footsteps, and then felt the foamer get knocked from its perch.
    “What the hell was that?” Will asked, hoisting Kade to his feet. Tiny was a