by L. T. Ryan
“Then I’m coming, too,” Rhea said.
“So am I,” Alec said.
He looked back at them and nodded.
While Jerry guided them closer, Turk went to work with a couple of flotation devices, rigging up a system to keep a few rifles dry. He sat Rhea and Alec down to discuss tactics. He kept it simple. Even though Alec had police training, he’d never seen a battlefield.
The engines silenced, signaling it was time to move. Turk gave final instructions to Jerry, hugged his family, then slid into the water, letting his body sink as the warm sea cleansed his wounds. He was never more at home than now. In fact, it was the best he had felt in days. Maybe weeks. He emerged from under and licked the salt off his lips, like he had when he’d come to. He preferred it fresh.
They were on the Caribbean side of the island and out of reach of heavy currents and waves of the Atlantic. The swim to shore took a little time, and not much effort.
“Why didn’t we take the raft?” Rhea said.
“The little girls might need it,” Turk said. “Not keen on beaching the boat just yet. Might be safer to leave it offshore a hundred yards or so.”
“You’re the boss,” she said before taking a deep breath and submerging her body.
A few minutes later they’d reached shore. White sand stretched from end to end. Beyond the beach, the lush jungle waited. A blessing and a curse, Turk knew. They’d find sustenance in there, but venturing into the unknown was not without risks.
They traveled south along the edge of the jungle. It wasn’t long before they came across a water source and a natural alcove that offered shade while capturing the breeze off the water. Banana and coconut trees ringed it.
“Good spot to camp,” he said, looking up at the trees. “One of these might work to replace the mast, too. Take a bit of work, but we got the manpower to make that happen.”
“Sure do,” Alec said.
“Let’s continue on a bit,” Turk said.
They headed south another ten minutes. The tip of the island was close. That’s what Turk wanted to see. What’s on the other side?
Instead of navigating around the end, he decided to lead them up a hill. They trekked into the thick vegetation, where the wind faded, and the trapped humid air surrounded them. By the time they reached the top, every member of the group was dripping with sweat.
Turk continued to look for a clearing. Not finding one after several minutes, he found the tallest tree and lashed a webbing of sorts out of thick, flexible vines he’d collected. He wrapped it around the tree and pulled hard, then jammed his feet against the trunk and began walking up.
The view at the top amazed him. He could see out across the Atlantic, rows of incoming waves that crested white as they hit a reef barrier fifty yards out, then reformed before crashing on the shore. The sand wasn’t as white, nor as perfect down there. It was strewn with trash and seaweed and driftwood and anything else the ocean could dredge up. He spent five minutes surveying the other side of the island.
A feeling of calm washed over him as he climbed down, almost as serene as those thirty seconds he’d spent underwater after jumping off the boat.
“Well?” Rhea said.
“This is perfect,” Turk said. “Let’s get the others.”
As they descended the hillside, they never knew how close they came to the short man with the bald head who had wrapped himself in the wide leaves of an Alocasia.
Sixteen
Addison found one horse left on the farm which had the appearance of an animal that could survive the long trek to Charlotte. She wanted to put the others out of their misery. The paddocks did a fine job of keeping the afflicted out. Someone had gone to great lengths to fortify it. Waist- and chest-high spears impaled the wandering dead. Razor wire in between the blackboard fencing kept those who missed the spears out and dissuaded most humans from attempting to enter.
Those who could find the place, at least.
Nestled in the woods, Turk had only come across it by chance. The directions he’d left with Addy were enough for her to reach it, but she knew no one would seek the stalls out.
The caretaker hadn’t made it. The last of the hay had been consumed. There were as many carcasses in the stalls as there were live animals. How had this one, a palomino which she nicknamed Chance, survived?
Their new friend, Jake, had climbed a ladder made from two-by-fours to the loft and found several bags of feed. He fashioned one into a backpack of sorts to take with them. The rest, he opened and spread for the remaining horses. Addison objected. Why let them linger? He countered that maybe someone would come across the stables and be willing to take and protect the animals.
He also mentioned this would make a good place to camp for a while. Addison wasn’t sure about a while, but a night there wouldn’t do any harm, especially with the outer fringes of a storm passing through. They were protected from afflicted and most living within the fences.
If she had nowhere to go, she could see remaining there through the winter, and then when spring came, see about making it a permanent home.
She lifted her head and watched Emma’s frame rise and fall with each of her slow, deep breaths. The girl had fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow they’d fashioned out of an empty feedbag and dead grass. It had been a rough day. They had both seen more than enough of the evil side of man. Wasn’t it enough they were surrounded by mindless dead who wandered in hopes of finding a living to eat? They now had to contend with people who saw little point in banding together. Rather, they figured this time existed for them to rape and steal and kill.
Addison rose to a sitting position while watching Jake, who leaned back against a post running up to the center of the roof. He didn’t react to her moving. She whispered his name. He did not respond. Was this a man who could be trusted? The thought entered her mind and surfaced frequently since meeting the guy. They’d stolen from him, left him stranded in woods full of afflicted. Yet, when he found them, he wanted to do them no harm. He’d tracked them down to rescue them, if need be.
That still didn’t make him a good man, though, she told herself. Could all be an act. He could be a sick pervert, worming his way in and then when they let their guard down, they’d see the real him.
The rain eased up, and the heavy thudding against the metal roof eased to something like the sound of snow landing on a frozen surface. The floor underneath the dirty windows illuminated with soft white. Addison walked over to one of them and looked out at the sky. Dark clouds ringed with silver had parted and given the moon a view of the earth. She looked out over the protected fields. The damp dead grass glistened. Some of the afflicted impaled on the fence’s fortifications tried to move forward, their arms and legs sagging, their stomachs and chests run-through to the hilt. Others didn’t bother. They still had a glimmer of something keeping them animated, but they gave up on progressing some time ago.
At least it seemed that way to Addison.
She hoped she never found out what it was like. It was a thought she tried not to allow to occupy her mind. The kind of thing she could spend hours lost in, wondering what it was like to wander the earth with no purpose, no reason behind each change of direction. In a simple way, there was something animalistic about them. But she knew it was more than that. The evil in their eyes and actions could not be written off by calling them scavenging dogs. The dead had a purpose and that was to hunt the living.
Addison turned around and went back to her resting spot, but she didn’t lay down. She watched the other two while feeling something pull at her. Jack was a good guy. It was more than a notion. He could’ve run, but he came to save them.
Would he take care of Emma if she left right now?
She gathered a few things together and placed them by the ladder, then shuffled across the floor to where the girl lay sleeping. The plywood creaked with every step. She dropped to her knees. Emma’s body rose and fell with her breaths. A smile played on her lips for a few seconds, then faded. Pe
rhaps she was dreaming of better times spent with her mom and dad. Maybe it was just muscles firing for no reason at all.
As she looked down at Emma, Addison told herself she owed the girl nothing at all. She hadn’t invited her to come along. She let her tag along because, what else was she supposed to do? Immediately her fears that Emma would slow her down were shown to be true.
Another part of her brain countered that they never would have found the horse in the woods had Emma not been there. And, while that was true, they also wouldn’t have gone back to the bunker to find supplies that had been lost. Addy would have found the stables and a suitable horse and been on her way how she had wanted.
Alone.
She worked her finger under matted strands of hair on Emma’s cheek and tucked them behind her ear. The moonlight stretched across the floor, illuminating the girl for a moment before racing clouds blocked the light again.
“You take care of yourself,” Addison whispered. Then she kissed her fingertips and brushed them against Emma’s cheek. Her skin still had that childlike softness. That was probably all that remained of the girl who existed before the outbreak.
Addison rose and crossed the loft, stepping softly to no avail. The flooring creaked with every step, no doubt louder to her ears than anyone else’s. She reached the ladder and tossed her things down. They hit the ground with soft thuds. Didn’t seem to disturb the animals below. She turned to take one last look at Emma.
“Jesus!” She threw her arms up, fist balled, ready to strike.
Jake grabbed her wrists to keep her from attacking.
“Let go of me.” She reversed the grip and gained control of his wrists, then kicked him in the shin.
“Dammit,” he said. “The hell are you doing?”
“I told you to let go of me.”
“I was just trying to keep you from hitting me.” He took a couple staggering steps back and reached down to rub his lower leg. “Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“Oh, like for a drink or something, huh?”
She stood there silent, glaring at him.
Jake pointed back at Emma. “Just gonna dump her on me? That’s your big plan? You take off and expect I’m gonna take care of her?”
“Basically.”
“What is wrong with you? You don’t even know me? I could be a damn killer.”
“Then I guess I’m right in getting away from you.”
“No way you’d leave the girl behind if you thought that.”
“I…” She took a deep breath and let her shoulders slump. “I don’t know what to think.” The resolve that had been there moments ago to take off without Emma and never look back had dissipated.
Jake walked toward her, keeping his body angled to be a smaller target in case she decided to attack a second time.
“I’m not gonna kick you again,” she said.
“I know you’re not. You’re armed, though. Really not sure about taking this chance.” His voice was stern, but in the returning soft moonlight, she saw his slight smile. “Look, I know it’s tough out here. I started off with my brother and pa. Lost my bro first. Dad couldn’t handle it, got weak. Died shortly after. I was alone for months after that until those assholes scooped me up one night. I finally got away, then had the good fortune of running into you.”
Addy glanced over at Emma and thought about telling Jake he had her to thank for his misfortune in the woods. “You could’ve taken off after we left.”
“I couldn’t leave you to face those guys alone.”
“I think we did all right.” She put her hands on her hips and straightened. “Took two of ‘em out.”
“And the third would have blown a hole in your head the moment you popped up from underground.”
“If you hadn’t been there,” she said softly.
“Where I’m from, that makes us a team.”
She considered asking him where that was, exactly, but opted not to.
He continued. “You don’t have to go this alone. I’m here to help you. Help you get where you’re going and help out with the girl. Together we can do this. You’re strong, Addison. I sense that already.”
She stood in the same spot, her voice choked in her throat.
He lowered his shaking head before turning around and saying, “If you gotta go, then go. I’ll make up something to tell the girl.”
She felt the first tear spill down her cheek. Several more followed. Jake had walked back across the loft and laid down in the same spot. He covered his face with his arm, not bothering to watch Addy make her decision. She shifted her gaze back to Emma. The girl hadn’t moved. She hadn’t witnessed the encounter. She wasn’t forced to see Addison crying because her mind had already been made up.
The two-by-four felt rough against the bottoms of her fingers as she grasped the top rung of the ladder. She worked her way down without looking back. The air on the ground level felt stifled and smelled like a half-dozen horses lived down there, which was about right. She entered the stall of the healthiest and prepared it to leave.
The sun would be up in an hour or so, but Addy didn’t want to wait it out. Too much time to think and change her mind. She had to go.
A stiff wind chilled her as she stepped out of the stable into the night air. The clouds had thinned even more. The moon hung low and glowed pale blue. She investigated the perimeter of the paddock, stopping at the gate to make sure the path was clear and there’d be no problems locking up after she went through. There could be no what-ifs, and walking away while wondering if she’d left the other two to die would linger on her mind forever.
The area was clear of afflicted, and the gate would be no problem from the outside. Addison returned to the stable, gathered her supplies, and led the horse away.
Seventeen
The room they shoved Sean into while he was still covered in the rotten blood of the afflicted he had slain was dark and damp and smelled like piss and shit. The odor of human waste stunk so badly he couldn’t smell the dead on him anymore. Worst of all, he’d almost adapted to the odor in the small room.
The floors were concrete and covered in dust. The walls were solid, too. Water ran down them in trickles. He wasn’t sure if that’s how they expected him to hydrate, but upon close inspection, there was a strong hint of sulfur. He cupped his hand on the wall long enough to fill his palm half-full repeatedly, using the accumulated liquid to wash the remains from his hands and arms and even his face, though he was careful not to drink any.
A day and a night had passed since they cast him aside. His stomach knotted with hunger, a sensation he knew would go away in time as his body adjusted and turned to stored fat for fuel. He spent his time doing pushups or squats or attempting to meditate. It didn’t come so easily to him, and given the circumstances, this wasn’t the best place to cement his practice.
One thing that did not happen was sleep. Once the dark set in, the cries turned up. Whether the pained wails of the afflicted, or those living who had been cursed to live out their days in the confines of the settlement, they howled from one corner or another from within the building.
He figured this was the prison ward. Why else put him through a trial by afflicted where losing meant death and living resulted in confinement.
What had the woman told him? She’d survived, too, something like that. So perhaps making it through the trial meant you earned a position on staff.
“Whoop-dee-fucking-doo,” he whispered. His words climbed the corner to the ceiling and died there.
He thought of Leo, and the painfully abrupt end to his life. It was coming one way or another, that much Sean was sure of. He’d lied to Medrick and his men about the wound on Leo’s arm. An afflicted had bit him. The sickness had set in, as evidenced by the layer of sweat always present on the guy’s forehead. Didn’t matter if he was standing in the frigid air, his head glistened. Sean was ready to do what was necessary, but wanted Leo to see for himself his sister-in-law and the infant ha
d survived.
Still, being ripped apart and eaten by two afflicted was no way to go. Did they know they were killing someone who’d already been bit and was turning? Probably didn’t matter, it wasn’t like the dead stopped feasting on a living being after the first bite.
Did they stop the attack? Would Leo be the next to find himself strung up in one of those rooms, roaming the floor until the door opened and drew him back into a corner, fresh meat about to be forced in to take him on?
Sean felt guilty for having not told Medrick Leo had been bitten. Could’ve saved the guy’s soul the pain of knowing how he died. Then again, seeing how they used the afflicted here, they probably would have bound and gagged Leo and brought him along, leaving him alone in a cell until he passed, then dumping him in a room as he reanimated.
He stretched along the floor and did a set of fifty push-ups to distract his mind from everything that had happened in the past two days. As he completed the set, the door to his room opened and a swath of light washed over him.
The woman from before entered. Her dark hair spilled down over her shoulder. Gone was the hat that had adorned her head. She was dressed the same. In her hand dangled a 1911. She didn’t seem intent on aiming the pistol at him.
“Ready to get cleaned up?” Her gaze never settled on him, it bounced overhead, to the side, but never on him. It was as though she lived in another dimension. Hell, the idea wasn’t as far-fetched as it sounded. Who knew what she had seen in the time following the outbreak.
Sean pushed off the floor and used the wall to steady himself as he rose on his good leg. “What’s your name?”
She shrugged. “Medrick calls me his special one, though I suppose he says that to anyone with tits.” Her stare finally fell on him, his face first, then to his chest. “Doesn’t appear you have that problem.”
Sean found himself smiling at the woman. A smile that she didn’t return.
“I’m Sean,” he said.
She nodded before turning away. “Better hurry, this door won’t stay open long.”