by Joe DeRouen
My logic would have been sound, if only Johnnie and Bill hadn’t died in a cabin every bit as remote as this place. The only difference was that it was in the forest, while the diner was in the middle of the plains of South Dakota. While I searched in the utter darkness for the candles, my mind went back to the smell of decay, and the dead trees around the cabin. Something was leeching the life from this planet. More passive than the assault, perhaps, but no less inexorable. A nagging thought hovered at the edge of my consciousness, but it slipped away before it fully formed.
Back inside, I lit two candles. “Better?”
“Better.” Jennifer smiled at me. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Now, how about we get some sleep? We have a long trip ahead of us.”
“I’m not sure I can sleep, Jaz. I’m still scared.”
I reached over to clasp her hand in mine. “Sleep, kid. I’ll take care of you.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die. That good enough for you?”
Jennifer chuckled as she yawned.
Ten minutes later, I lay awake, listening to her gentle breathing. Sleep came easier than I thought.
We started out early the next day, just after sunrise. We had a long way to go, and it’d take us more than two days to reach my lodge. We needed to find somewhere on the way to hole up, somewhere safe; though I had no idea where was safe anymore.
As I drove along the highway, however, the sights back at the farm haunted me. Not the interior so much, more the dead and dying flora around the buildings. As I’d driven away from the farm, the crops had turned into more familiar healthy fields. I shuddered as I realised there must be something there; like at the cabin, leeching the life from the surrounding area. Another thought entered my mind. I’d spent the night in my jeep, yards away from the farm, but nothing happened. If there had been any Treaters in the area, I should be dead, not driving north. My mind worked in overdrive, trying to solve the enigma of my survival. I drew a blank, so spent the rest of the day talking to Jennifer, doing my best to keep our spirits high.
Around 3pm I started to look around for somewhere to spend the night. We ended up in a barn just over the border into Montana. As we left South Dakota, the terrain grew greener. The barn was surrounded by trees, and I took the sounds of birds to be a good sign. My satnav told me that we were around 30 miles from the nearest town.
“You hear that, Jennifer?”
She danced around the clearing. “Yes, isn’t it wonderful?” Her smile faltered for an instant.
“Anything wrong?”
She shook her head, the smile returning. “No, not really. It’s just dad used to bring us up here some times.”
I took her hand. “Come on, let’s eat. I think we can risk a small fire and cook those sausages.”
As dusk fell, I heard a sound I realised I hadn’t heard on the last two night; crickets. I smiled at the oddly familiar sound. At last, we’d found a little pocket of life besides the two of us.
We cooked the food, revelling in wilderness surrounding us. Fireflies flitted through the trees, attracted to the light of the fire. As the embers died, we retreated to our sleeping bags. I was gratified Jennifer managed to fall asleep far easier that the previous night. She needed to recover, and although it was baby steps, I’d take anything I could.
We reached my cabin as dusk fell the next day. The advantage of having no cops was the ability to drive with my foot to the floor for most of the way. Again, the sounds of the woods surrounded us. I debated starting up the generator, but decided against it. We spent the night in the first beds we’d slept in for days.
In the morning, we woke to a grey overcast. Winter was coming, and we were barely prepared. I’d never spent a winter up here before. The guys and I had spent the last couple of days of our trip chopping down a few trees to replenish the wood store for next year, but there was enough to cover a week or two, no more.
I grabbed an axe and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” It was a simple enquiry, with none of the fear from the other night.
“I need to cut some more wood for the fire. There’s nowhere near enough to last the winter. I hear they can be pretty severe round these parts, and the last thing we want is for us to die of frostbite.” I grinned at her. “Especially after surviving the end of the world and all.”
Jennifer laughed. It was a lovely sound. “Yes, that’d be just plain rude, wouldn’t it?”
We laughed together.
“Do you have another axe?”
My eyes widened. “You know how to chop wood?”
She smirked. “I told you. I used to come up here. My dad didn’t believe in luxuries.”
My respect for the girl notched up a few hundred percent. “Come on then. There’s another axe in the woodshed. I’ll warn you, we have a few hard days ahead of us. By the end of it, you’ll have aches and pains in places you never knew you had.”
Jennifer smiled. “Bring it, old man.”
To her credit, she stayed the course, aches, blisters and all. Within a week, we had amassed a huge store, enough to see us through whatever Mother Nature threw at us.
When the snow hit, it was brutal. The first big storm buried the lodge so deep we had to dig a channel around to get wood for the fire. Within a week, all the non-canned food was gone, but we didn’t mind. We kept track of the days, and every Saturday night, we opened a pack of marshmallows and melted them over crackers; until we ran out of crackers.
One night, Jennifer surprised me. “Next week’s Christmas.”
“Damn, and I haven’t got you anything.”
Jennifer aimed a cuff at me, but I managed to dodge it. We sat huddled under a blanket on the sofa. The fire roared in the hearth, but it was way below freezing outside. We’d become close, real close. Not like a couple; no, she was way too young, and I still hurt too much. We were somewhere between father/daughter and brother/sister, and I loved it as much as I loved her.
“Don’t be a dumbass,” she said, giggling. She craned her neck to look up at me. “Can we do something? Something special?”
I breathed deeply. “Well, I think we have a few cans of smoked salmon left.”
Jennifer groaned. “Jaz, you’ve spent the last few weeks boasting about how you and the others hunted the local deer.”
I sat up straight, almost spilling Jennifer to the floor. “Go outside in this? Are you crazy?”
“Aw, come on. You said it yourself that these woods are teeming with deer. How hard can it be?”
“You just want me to freeze to death so you have all the baked beans to yourself. By the way, you stink, kid. I think I may have to ration them.”
“Bite me.” This time the slap connected. “That’ll teach you. But seriously, Jaz. It’s Christmas. We need to make it special, and what would be more special than some fresh meat?”
“Hmm, maybe. Tell you what, if this storm breaks, I’ll give it a go. One hour a day, ok? Any more then I risk frostbite. I reckon I won’t have to go far anyway. This place is so remote the deer haven’t learned to avoid us.”
Jennifer clapped her hands together and threw her arms around me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Urgh...need air,” I gasped, smiling.
The next day, I lay with my rifle rested against a fallen tree, bundled up in my parka and winter gear. I was still fucking freezing. I checked my watch. Another ten minutes and I’d head back. Damned kid and her Christmas dinner. I love canned salmon.
A rustle across the clearing shattered me out of my mental rant. I watched, my breath steaming before my face, as a stag entered the clearing.
My first thought was if I killed it, how the heck would I get it back to the cabin? The damned animal was huge. I put it to the back of my head, however. Jennifer was gonna love this. I took aim. It was so easy. This was the easiest kill I’d ever made, but I almost didn’t take it.
Who was I to kill another living thing, one of th
e few left on Earth? That thought lasted half a second as I imagined me returning to Jennifer, empty-handed except for my lofty morals.
Thirty seconds later, I was confronted with my first thought. Just how was I going to get this beast back home? It weighed over twice my weight.
Then I realised I didn’t need to bring it all. Jennifer wanted Christmas dinner, so I’d bring back enough for that; plus as much more as I could carry.
After an hour, I managed to butcher enough to fill the pack I bought. I felt incredibly smug. Jennifer was gonna love this.
The howl banished my euphoria instantly. It was close, too close for comfort, and I stepped up my pace. The lodge was over the next rise, minutes away. It was slow going. The snow shoes helped, but the overloaded pack made me sink deep into the snow. I crested the rise and breathed a sigh of relief. The cabin sat under 200 yards away, on the banks of the frozen lake. Smoke curled from the chimney. I was home.
Home; is that what the cabin was? The last vestige of humanity. Two lost souls, eking out our existence
I fell face down in the snow as a weight hit me from behind. Rolling over, I spat ice out of my mouth and snorted it out of my nose. From the corner of my eye, I saw the huge gray wolf circling around.
Shit! My rifle was over ten feet away. I staggered to my feet. “Easy boy.” I held my palms outward as I inched toward the weapon.
My blood chilled as I saw the other shapes holding back in the shadows. I was surrounded. Fuck, if only I’d bought my Glock!
I took the pack off my back. Maybe they’d leave me alone if I let them have it, but no. The alpha’s eyes remained on me. I’d closed to within six feet of my rifle, but the alpha continued to snarl at me. Its fangs dripped with drool. I sensed the others circling around. Damn. Jennifer was going to have a lonely Christmas.
I began to laugh, the song, ‘Lonely This Christmas,’ playing in my head. I lunged for the rifle at the same time the wolf jumped. It passed through the air I’d occupied only instants before, and I grabbed the rifle, turning it around and pulling the trigger. It clicked on an empty chamber. For once, I cursed my weapon safety protocol. It had just killed me.
The pack closed in. I was no threat to them, lying on my back with an empty gun.
The Alpha sprang at me. He was a yard away when his head exploded. The others whimpered as they ran away with their tails quite literally between their legs.
“Gotta love Mr. Shotgun,” I said, as Jennifer came into view.
She knelt down and embraced me. “God, I’m so glad you’re ok. When you didn’t come back after the hour I got worried. Then I heard the howls and I remembered you telling me about the wolf packs around here, so I grabbed the gun and came looking. Looks like I got here just in time.”
“Ack, I had it covered.” I sat up, smiling. I pointed at the headless carcass. “I had junior there eating out of my hand.”
Jennifer snorted “Yeah, right!”
I stood up, grabbing the backpack. Shit, my back hurt. Damn wolf was heavy. I held my hand out. “Let’s go home, kid.”
That Christmas was one of the best I’d ever had. I even cranked up the generator, and we listened to some CD’s. There were no carols, but it didn’t matter. We had fresh meat. The rest was canned, of course, but we sat in front of the roaring fire, our bellies stuffed.
“I never realised venison was deer, you know that?” said Jennifer, burping.
I laughed, loud. “Haven’t you ever eaten it?”
She gave me her look. “Lots of times, asshole. My dad always brought it back. To be honest, I reckon he brought it with us in the car, but at the time I was too young to realise.”
“Ha! Your dad was a legend!”
Jennifer’s eyes welled up. “Yes, he was. He always read us these amazing night-time stories. He made a different one up every night.” She sighed.“I remember his face when I told him I was too old for the stories. I was thirteen. I thought if my friends found out I was still getting a bedtime story they’d think I was a baby. Plus, he still had a few years with Jess. So, he stopped telling them.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I wish he was here now. I really want one his fairy tales. They always had a happy ending.”
“Sorry.” I took her hand. “I’m sorry there’s no happy ending.”
She smiled. “Hey, who said there was no happy ending?”
This was when I realised Jennifer was broken.
All along I thought she was strong, that she accepted what happened. Her bright eyes betrayed her.
She hoped. There was no hope. It was all gone.
New Year’s came and went. We saw the thaw start in March, saw the white shrouding the trees give way to green, and we stood at the edge of the lake and smiled.
“What’s that?” asked Jennifer, pointing to a saddle between two hills in the distance.
I followed her finger, seeing a dark brown stain among the otherwise green of the pine woods. A cold ball formed at the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t ever discussed my theory of how the life was being drawn out of the forests. It appeared my haven wasn’t as safe as I thought.
“Ah, probably some tree blight,” I lied. “I’ve seen it a few times in these parts.”
Jennifer nodded, accepting my entirely plausible explanation.
Over the next few days, I kept an eye on the stain, as it spread slowly, but inexorably like a cancer. Judging on the rate of expansion, I reckoned we had around a fortnight before it reached the shores of the lake.
One day, I ventured out at dawn, before Jennifer awoke. I took my boat to the far shore. Pulling it up the bank, my nostrils wrinkled with the smell. I grabbed a sapling to pull myself up, only to have the bark peel off under my hand. The wood underneath was black and rotten. The whole forest was dying. Worse, it was utterly silent, like the farm.
I got back in the boat, and had stared the engine before I noticed the shapes floating on the surface of the lake. Reaching down I lifted the silver shape of the trout. As I held it, the flesh began to dissolve, the moisture evaporating as the body became dust. I gagged. This was my lake. These were my fish...well, not mine, but I’d spent every summer and fall here for the last twenty years, and now something was killing it. Looking back, I saw the leaves falling off the trees, and I realised how close the rot reached. Another few days, and it would reach the lodge.
I turned the throttle to full, churning the water as the bow of my boat rose. Reaching my jetty, only my training forced me to tie it up before running to the lodge. I glanced over my shoulder before opening the door, afraid the death had crept up on me with my back turned.
I waited for the kid to wake up, but while she slept, I began to pack. We shouldn’t need much.
“What are you doing?” Jennifer stood bleary eyed in the open doorway of her bedroom.
I sighed. I wasn’t looking forward to this. “Come here, kid. I need to talk to you.”
Her eyes widened, the first fear in months etching her face. “They’re here, aren’t they?”
I nodded. “That stain that’s been growing? It’s not blight.”
She came and sat at the table beside me. “What do you mean?”
“I just took the boat to the far shore. The whole forest is dying. I...I’ve seen it before.”
Her hands began to fidget, so I took them in mine. “Something, I don’t know what, is leeching the life from the whole planet. It looks like they started with the strongest life forces; us. Now, they’ve moved onto the flora.”
The light faded from her eyes. “Then it’s over.” She looked up, straight into my eyes. Her expression was cold as ice. “Don’t let them get me, Jaz. Promise me you won’t let them get me?”
Fuck! She was asking me to kill her, and the crazy thing was I understood why. I nodded.
“When it comes to the time, I’ll do us both.”
She smiled. “You know, I’ve never seen the ocean. I’d love to see it...before the end.”
A feeling of defiance and determination rose up insid
e me. “Then let’s do it!”
Jennifer looked at me like I was crazy. “But we’re thousands of miles away. We’d never make it.”
I grew thoughtful. “I never asked, can you drive?”
“Yes, but I don’t know where you’re going with this.”
I looked at her, a smile ghosting my lips. “We can drive at night. While on the move we should be safe, as long as we stay away from the larger towns. I can plot a route with the sat-nav. I think it should still be working. I can’t imagine the Treaters are astronauts.”
Jennifer’s face lit up. “We can see the ocean, the Pacific?”
“Yes. I promise.” It was a promise I couldn’t keep.
The next few months were the worst of our lives. Initially, we had the jeep. To quote the song, ‘We Drove All Night.’ Then, it became hard to refuel. We had pumps and pipes to reach the underground tanks, once we figured out how to do it, but after a while, the gas just stopped working. Gradually, the jeep just gave up and died, like the rest of the world, so we started to walk, intending to reach the ocean. We’d gotten close, just over a hundred miles to San Francisco Bay.
***
Present Day
I’d failed.
Over the months, I managed to figure out why I’d survived that first night with Treaters all around me; for they were there. The dead roses proved it. I should have died that night, but I didn’t, because my jeep was half-buried in mud. The muck had covered the sides of the vehicle, and as I reclined my seat that night, I’d become invisible to them.
As the asphalt jungles and cites fell, the only protection lay in the earth itself, so every night, Jennifer and I selected a spot near a river. We smeared each other in mud and slept as best we could.
I cried. We were so close. The sunlit hills before me bordered the San Francisco Bay. At the end, we’d ...I’d grown cocky. The last few woods we passed though had a little green, at least at the tips of the trees, so I thought we were safe. I was wrong, and Jennifer was dead; but I was alive, and I wanted to fulfil our last wish, so I grabbed my sack and began to yomp over the rough terrain.