by Kate Morris
“He’ll catch up,” he tried reassuring her. He wasn’t sure. Elijah didn’t even find comfort in his own words, so he didn’t know how she would.
After a long time, even after they turned another street and so did Jamie in the rearview mirror, Wren finally turned facing forward. There were tears wetting her cheeks.
“Don’t worry, okay? Just help me keep watch,” he said, trying to distract her. The walkie-talkie on the dash erupted in static a moment before Alex came on.
“Elijah, we’ve got trouble up ahead. Roadblock. Cars. Looks like someone’s trying to send us in a specific direction. Or fuckin’ trapping us. Not happenin’, bitches. I’m takin’ the sidewalk. Do the same. Do not fucking stop, ya’ hear me?”
“Got it, Alex,” he answered and followed his brother up onto the sidewalk.
Wren screamed, reared back, pushed open the slider window on the back of the truck. She fired two rounds. Elijah dared to take his eyes from the sidewalk for a glimmer of a second in time to see three men chasing after them on foot. They were not crawlers. She took the walkie-talkie and pressed the button.
“Go, Alex! It’s an ambush!”
His brother ahead of them floored it, and the truck bounced back onto the road again. Elijah watched as his vehicle took some rounds to the tailgate. Jamie’s SUV was bullet-proof. Theirs were not. He grabbed the back of Wren’s head and shoved her down on the seat.
“Stay down!” he yelled and swerved onto the road, tramping on the gas pedal.
Nothing would bounce out of the bed this time because they’d secured their heaping load with tarps and straps and ropes. Nothing was getting out. And nobody was getting into it.
“Okay, they’re gone,” he told her, letting her rise again.
He followed his brother through town, but when they turned to head to the on-ramp for the freeway, there was a group of men outside of their parked vehicles blocking the way. They both hit their brakes and began backing up.
“Elijah, watch out!” she screamed as someone flew in behind them. They were only a few hundred feet from them and looked like they were going to ram them in the rear.
“They’re trying to block us in,” he growled. “Tell Alex.”
She did. His brother’s response came immediately, “Get outta’ my way, E. I got this.”
Elijah sped back up but swung the truck hard to the left to veer out of Alex’s path. His brother made a wide circuit and hit the gas the second he had it turned around. Then he rolled down his window and opened up on the car coming toward them with his AR15 rifle, newly confiscated from a neighbor’s house. Wren rolled down her window and stuck her pistol out doing the same. Alex or Wren, Elijah wasn’t sure which, shot through the front windshield of the sedan killing the man driving it. The car rolled forward and crashed into a fire hydrant.
A crack of lightning split the pre-dawn sky as Alex veered a hard left and up the bridge that held flags from the poles with Elijah and the rest of the starters on their team’s pictures on them. Some were missing. His was not. He was just as embarrassed seeing that flag there now as he had been any other time going by it. This time was worse. He was with Wren. They were in the middle of an economic and social meltdown in the country, and here was his stupid banner waving in the hard winds that had just picked up since they left the house. It seemed so stupid and pointless. Made his life feel pointless again, all that time and effort spent on wasted efforts.
Elijah tried not to think about it as they ran three red lights and headed out of town in a different direction.
“Jamie!” she cried into the walkie-talkie. “Are you there?”
Silence was their answer.
“Don’t worry. He knows this same alternative route. Just warn him about the downtown area and that on-ramp. We don’t want him walking into that alone. He may also be out of range.”
She nodded and did as he said. Elijah didn’t want to say it out loud, but he was also worried because Jamie was driving the vehicle with all the extra guns and ammunition. If he didn’t make it to Uncle Jasper’s farm, they’d only have what they each had on them. It wasn’t much. It certainly wasn’t enough. She stared at him with big, frightened aqua eyes. Elijah understood her fear. It wasn’t for the loss of the guns.
Chapter Thirty-eight
They made it to the farm a few hours later, having had to take more than one detour and also because they got separated once from Alex when they were chased by psychopathic bandits again. They weren’t even crawlers. They were just desperate people taking desperate measures to ensure their own survival.
She would never remember the way to this farm again if they left it. It was nothing like where they’d just come from. She was only just beginning to learn her way around that town. This was not a town. They drove through two tiny burgs on the way, and eventually, houses became more and more spread apart until it finally turned into farms and then nothing but long stretches of wooded or tilled pastures and the occasional farmhouse. Then they turned down a gravel road. After that, it was like traveling through the outback. Gravel, rutted roads barely wide enough for a single vehicle. And then, just like that, it opened up into lush, overgrown pastures and an old white farmhouse came into view along with what seemed like miles of fencing and huge white barns. The name on the mailbox said “Stephens.”
“Home,” Elijah had said with a long-held breath of stress and fatigue as they got out.
“I don’t see Jamie’s vehicle. Where is he?”
She picked up her phone to dial but couldn’t get service.
“There’s not usually service out here, Wren. Alex and I would have to go to the high spot in the woods to catch any service at all, and that was even unreliable.”
“Where is that spot? I want to go there. Right now,” she said immediately. “Now, Elijah. Now.”
“Calm down, Wren,” he said as Alex joined them near the truck.
“Asses and elbows, people,” Alex announced bawdily. “This shit ain’t gonna unload itself.”
“No, I’m not doing anything till I get in touch with Jamie.”
Alex said, “Your uncle’s a badass. I’m sure he’s fine. We need to check this place out. Make sure nobody’s been here.”
“No…”
“Fine, fucking go, but if one of those things attacks you, then don’t come running to me for help!”
“Hey!” Elijah said and stepped in front of his brother. “Calm down, Alex. Jesus, bro. Don’t talk to her like that.”
Alex removed his ball cap and swept a hand through his shaggy hair. “Sorry. I’m just…keyed up is all. Give us a minute to check the place out first, Wren. Then Elijah can take you up there to make the call.”
She nodded with pinkened cheeks. Alex scared her sometimes. Most of the time he was nice, considerate even. But other times like just now, there was something dark and malevolent in his brown eyes. He was only a few inches shorter and a few pounds lighter than Elijah, so he was massive, way bigger than her. That didn’t help build her trust in him when he was in a bad mood.
The brothers went through the barns and house while she waited in the truck, ordered by Elijah to do so with Dixie on the seat next to her. The storm that had been brewing in the city they just left must’ve followed them south because big droplets started hitting the windshield as echoes of thunder rolled through the valley. It felt like the thunder was rumbling right through her middle.
Elijah took her to the top of the hill in the woods at the other end of a pasture to call Jamie. She tried a dozen times until the rain started coming down too hard to remain outside with the dropping temperature.
When they returned to the farm, Alex had pulled the SUV into the barn and the truck into the attached garage.
“Wren, go inside and warm up,” Elijah told her.
“No, I’ll help,” she argued.
Alex came over and said, “Just keep an eye on that fire I’ve got going in the basement if you will. That’s our heat source. That goes out, and w
e’re shivering our asses off all night tonight. Let us do this. Go.”
“First door to the left down the hallway to your right,” Elijah told her.
She nodded and grabbed a box to carry in since she was already going that way. Dixie followed right behind her.
The farmhouse was like the ones she’d seen in American movies depicting farming, farm life, or anything with that sort of theme. The first room she went into was a mudroom, as Elijah called them. She kept her leather boots on. The house was freezing, but she could smell the fire Alex had started while they were out in the woods for the last half hour. She did hang her jacket on one of the hooks on the wall, though.
The kitchen was just ahead to her left. It was outdated with white cabinets, a butcher block island, and wallpaper with colorful fruits on it. The whole house was dark and dreary, despite the chipper colors and white cabinets. All of the drapes and blinds were drawn. It smelled stale other than the fire going.
She went down the hall Elijah told her about and peered around the corner. There was a family room with comfortable brown plaid furniture a huge stone fireplace with a deer head mounted above it. Gross. She turned back and found the open door to the basement. It was dark down there. Wren could tell there was a light on, but it still seemed spooky, shadowy.
“Get a grip, ya’ wanka’,” she scolded herself, drawing a strange look from Dixie.
The basement stairs didn’t have a back on them, which made her nervous. The floor was uneven as if someone had poured the concrete by hand. There was some sort of space at eye level that went far back under the floor above it. It was dirt, just dirt and cobwebs like a three-foot-high tunnel of earth and spiders. Super creepy.
She found the wood-burner and stoked it. There was a metal folding chair near it, so she took a seat and kept a close eye on the fire all day as was instructed while they unloaded and organized the trucks. Finally, Elijah came down to retrieve her and took her upstairs to give her the ten-cent tour, as he described it. There were, thankfully, three bedrooms. He showed her where he and his brother used to stay, literally a room done in blue plaid wallpaper with bunk beds.
“We’ll stay in here,” he offered. “You can have the bigger room.”
“No, this is fine, Elijah,” she stated. “Hey, maybe…”
“What is it?”
She bit her lip before saying, “Maybe you could sleep in here tonight? You know, just for tonight. I-I don’t think I want to be alone in this house…just for the first night, okay?”
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll talk to Alex.”
He gave her a hug, sensing she needed one. Wren just wanted to stay in the warmth of his embrace forever, which didn’t make sense to do because chances were that Elijah wasn’t going to live through this. She probably wouldn’t, either.
They pulled the other vehicle into the garage and unloaded that before locking the place down for the night. Wren made Elijah promise they’d go in the morning to look for Jamie. If he could, he would leave those white towels tied to the right places as markers so they could find them. Maybe he just got lost or the SUV broke down or he couldn’t find the farm. As she looked out the bedroom window, she could definitely justify that reason. It was black as pitch with not even the faintest of light coming from the stars or the moon which were hidden behind rain clouds. Alex volunteered to stay up to keep an eye out for Jamie and also conveyed that he wanted to keep unpacking. She knew they were both stressed out that Jamie had the car with all the guns. They’d worked so hard trying to find those, and now they were gone, too.
They ate a frozen pizza from their frozen food stash. The stove was a little more complicated than she was used to, but Wren had figured it out with Alex’s help. She had to force herself to eat even a small piece.
“I’m going down to help Alex for a while,” Elijah said as she crawled under the covers. “Tomorrow, we’ll take all the bedding out and shake off the dust. Don’t want you to get sick.”
The irony of that statement didn’t miss either of them. His expression of pain showed his distress at the idea of the word ‘sick.’ Nobody wanted to say that word anymore because it was a death sentence now.
“Try to rest, okay?” he requested and leaned down to touch the side of her head.
Wren couldn’t even offer a nod. She wasn’t going to sleep until Jamie showed up.
Dixie curled up in the bed behind her, cradling her back again. It felt safer having her with her, but Wren didn’t turn the bedside lamp off right away. She reached for a book on the stand, which ended up being a photo album. It was titled, “The Boys.” She flipped through and realized their aunt must’ve made it. Alex and Elijah at different ages were in it, and the pictures were all taken on this farm. They were shirtless in the barn each holding a bale of hay. Even when he was young, Elijah had been a big kid. There were a few of them with fishing poles, one with a fish hanging off the hook with proud, toothy grins being given. Others were the boys on the front porch holding mason jars with what was captioned ‘iced tea on the porch.’ The book went on until the boys looked around twelve or so. Alex was an older teen, but Elijah said he was twelve when he last visited. It allowed her a glimpse into his life a little deeper and made her see him in a different way. She shut the book and set it on the nightstand again.
For the first time in the last three months, Wren didn’t hear anything outside. Nothing. It was just silent. No sounds of frantic dogs barking. No ambulances or police vehicles. No screaming in terror or gunfire. No screeching and wild speech that wasn’t really a clear dialect. Nothing. Just blessed, peaceful, and safe silence.
Somehow, that silence frightened her, though, the longer she lay there staring up at the darkness in the room. The void was empty, replete of warnings, signals, and the usual noises that meant something was afoot. How would they hear the night crawlers way out here? What if healthy people showed up and wanted what they had? She just wanted Jamie. Everything would be okay when he got here.
A long time later, Elijah came to bed and crawled into the top bunk.
“Is everything okay downstairs?” she asked in the dark.
“You’re awake? You should’ve been sleeping.”
She shrugged. “I know. I just couldn’t. Too nervous.”
“I’m here now,” he said. “Everything’s fine. Just go to sleep, Wren.”
“Any word from Jamie?”
“Not yet. Stop worrying. We don’t know anything yet. Alex said we’ll look for him tomorrow, try to make contact. You know Jamie. He’s probably single-handedly killing all the crawlers on the way here.”
She smiled fondly thinking of her pretend uncle and fierce protector and only living relative for all intents and purposes. He was more than family. He was her life for the last four years. “Yes, probably.”
“Wren, get some sleep, okay? You’re exhausted. We’re safe now. We will be safe here for a long time, okay? No need to worry anymore.”
“You think so?”
“I know so,” he said and rolled to his side by the sound shift above her.
There was a long pause, the silence filling the room, the warmth of the worn and soft coverlet and fuzzy blanket comforting her. It still wasn’t as good as having Jamie with her. This was the first time they’d ever been separated like this.
“Wren?” he asked.
“Yeah?”
“We’re gonna be okay,” he said to reassure her. “I mean it. We’re gonna make it. We’re gonna be some of the lucky ones. We’ll stick together no matter what. We won’t let anything separate us, okay?”
“Yeah,” she said again, feeling slightly hopeful.
“As long as we stay together, we’ll be all right. I’ll make sure you’re okay. I’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you, Elijah,” she said softly.
“Get some sleep, Wren,” he ordered in that same quiet tone. “Don’t worry. I’ll be awake for a while. I’ll watch over you.”
“I know,” she whispered, not eve
n sure he could hear her.
She wanted Jamie, but Elijah was with her now and that had to be enough. Wren finally caught some sleep feeling safe and protected. It felt good knowing Elijah was watching over her. The last thought she had before drifting off was wondering how long they’d have together. Nothing was promised anymore. Not college or the end of her ordeal because of her family’s murders. Not her future with Jamie. Not even the time she had left with Elijah. But she had tonight and that would have to be enough for now.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Elijah rose near three a.m. The dog Dixie growled low in her throat like she did when something menacing was near. Something else other than the dog had awakened him, though, and he swung his legs over and landed silently on the balls of his feet. Wren was fast asleep. He placed his hand on the top of the dog’s head to settle her, which it did. She rested her big head again on Wren’s hip.
Pulling on his boots, because he’d already slept in his jeans and a hoodie since the house was cold, Elijah crept from the room, hitting the one creaky floorboard near the door. He cringed and paused before going forth. Then he crept down the carpeted stairs to the first floor, removing his pistol from its holster, which he was just carrying in his left hand. Elijah set it on the last step and held the pistol in a two-handed grip.
“Did you hear something, too?” Alex said in a hushed tone from the dark living room.
“Yeah,” Elijah answered and joined his brother near the wide picture window that looked out over the half-acre front yard and front porch. The barns were off to the left. The fields where the dairy herd used to be was to their right. Behind them were hundreds of acres of pasture and former cornfields.