It boggled his mind to think about how much he’d hated her when they first met. He’d been threatened by her. By the way his brother had looked at her, by the idea that she could swoop in and steal the only person he’d ever allowed himself to love. But then he’d found love himself—Darla. She’d been Vivian’s mom and a real pain in the ass at times, but she’d been what he needed at the time. Someone who challenged him, who could cut through his bullshit and make him be real.
Things had changed after that. He’d changed. Soon he’d begun to see Vivian as a friend, and then as something more. A sister. That was something he’d never had, but it was the only way he could think to describe their relationship. They’d picked at each other, gotten under each other’s skin, but they’d shared a mutual love and respect that had carried them forward even after everyone else was gone.
That day, the one he’d been dreaming about, had been the first really hard day of his life.
Ten years the CDC had been gone, ten years they’d been living in what had once been Senoia. At first, things had been better. The bacteria they’d released had eaten away at the brains of the zombies, and within six months they’d all died off. For good this time. After that, they’d worked to start a new life. It hadn’t been perfect, people had still died, still disappeared, but when the rumors started, no one really believed them. The zombies were gone. The bodies littering the world were proof of that. Still, though, the stories persisted.
Something was out there.
People would disappear, would go hunting or fishing or scavenging and not come back. It was strange, but easily explained. There were other groups, people who didn’t want to play nice, and wild animals. Accidents happened, too. That was all it had been.
It was an illusion that couldn’t last, one that was shattered the moment someone was brought in with a bite. A human bite.
The guy had already been changing, black veins mottling his skin, his eyes milky, but he’d had just enough time left to describe the creature he’d seen. Not a zombie, but something else. Something halfway between the dead and a human. A hybrid of some kind. It had been quick and calculating and vicious, and definitely not dead, because when his companion had shot the thing, its blood had been red.
Seconds after he finished his story, he’d struck, lashing out at the very people who’d been trying to save him. Angus had been there when it happened, and if not for him, the guy would have infected someone else. But like so many other times since finding out he was immune, Angus had intervened, putting himself between the infected man and the others. It had hurt like a bitch when the guy’s teeth sank into his arm, but Angus was one of the few people who could survive a bite, and he’d done it without thinking.
Parv had ripped him a new one that night.
The settlement had set up patrols after that, and it wasn’t long before another one of the creatures made an appearance. More and more popped up as time went by, making the truth impossible to deny. The rumors that had been circulating for years were real. Even worse, the few surviving humans in the area were being turned at an astonishing rate. It was almost like the creatures had been programmed to do it.
Less than a month after the epiphany, they’d lost Axl.
It was still all so new back then, and the survivors hadn’t yet realized the creatures only came out at night. If they had, things would have been different, because Angus and Axl would have headed home earlier. They wouldn’t have gone to check the last couple traps. They would have been aware of the danger. But because they’d been out for hours and hadn’t seen a single creature, they’d assumed they were safe. Thought the things were hunting somewhere else that day. Thought they could risk being out a little bit longer. How wrong they’d been…
Angus remembered attaching the string of dead rabbits to his horse so he could free up his hands, then he’d moved his gaze to the sky. He’d frowned, puckering his lips the way he so often did when he was thinking something through, and Axl’s gray eyes had followed his gaze. The brothers were silent as they took in the setting sun, both of them lost in thought. Angus didn’t know what Axl was thinking, but he’d been trying to decide if it was smart to stay out or if they should go back. It had been a quiet day. No sign of anyone from The Church or any other survivors, and no indication that any of the creatures were on the hunt, but something was nagging at him.
“Should head back,” Angus had finally said, his frown deepening.
Axl’s mouth pulled down in the corners, deepening the lines around his eyes. Most of the time, Angus forgot that so many years had gone by. Then something would happen, and he’d notice the creases etched in his brother skin, the gray streaked in his dirty blond hair, and it would hit him with a jolt. It had been thirty years since the virus was released and the dead came back, and Axl was now in his fifties. It seemed unreal that his brother, the kid he’d practically raised, was now a middle-aged man.
“We got three more traps to check,” Axl had said, “and there’s time enough for one, at least.”
Angus, pushing away thoughts of the past, had sighed. “I don’t know, li’l brother, I got a bad feelin’ ’bout this.”
“You gettin’ soft in your old age?” Axl had asked, goading him. His lips twitching just a little.
Angus had let out a snort.
He had thirteen years on Axl and was feeling every one of them. Sixty-five years old, to be exact, which most of the time Angus found impossible to comprehend. There had been so many moments throughout his life when he’d been certain he wouldn’t see forty, yet he’d defied all the odds. He’d beaten the virus, then a zombie bite, then the goddamn CDC and The Church. It had been a long, hard fight, but he’d won, and he didn’t plan on losing anytime soon. Even if his joints had either not gotten the memo or had decided to ignore it.
Axl elbowed him. “One more. I hate thinkin’ ’bout some animal gettin’ its paws on our kill. We need that meat.”
Again, Angus had let out a sigh, but relenting had been easy because he agreed with his brother. Wasting meat they desperately needed was stupid. “All right, but if my old lady chews me out, I’m sendin’ her your way.”
“I’m gonna tell Parv you called her that,” Axl had said, a grin stretching across his face.
Angus shook his head but had returned the smile.
He still hadn’t been able to figure out how he’d gotten so lucky, but he wasn’t about to question it and risk fate. Parv was fifteen years younger than he was and more beautiful than an old asshole like Angus James deserved, and as smart as a whip to boot. He’d been so blown away the first time she kissed him that he’d barely reacted, which had made her slap him on the arm and tell him to wake the hell up. He had. Big time. And he’d been wide awake ever since. She’d ignited something in him, made him feel more alive than ever before, and every moment since then had been like a dream.
He’d been a fool for not going back to her, and he’d known it, but his brother was too determined to argue with, so Angus had grabbed the horse’s reins and said, “Let’s get this over with.”
Holding the reins, Angus had started moving. The animal snorted but followed when urged, and Axl had as well. Angus had his knife out and ready, and his eyes were darting around, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. That they should have been heading home, not deeper into the woods. The brothers had maybe another ten minutes of daylight left, and it would take at least that long to reach their next set of traps, then another ten to fifteen to get back to the settlement once they’d collected the game.
No, Angus had thought, this isn’t right. We shouldn’t be doing this.
He’d turned to his brother, ready to tell him they needed to go back, but the words had died on his lips at the determined expression on Axl’s face. He wasn’t going to listen. Angus knew his brother about as well as he knew himself, and he could already tell Axl wasn’t going to change his mind. What was more, the argument that would most definitely ensue would slow
them down, keeping them out even longer. It was better to just keep his mouth shut and let Axl have his way.
The heaviness in his gut had grown, but instead of bringing it up, Angus walked faster. The sky darkened a little more with each passing second, and then the sun was gone, and the only light left on the horizon had been a sliver of pink. The sight of the endless black sky had only increased Angus’s anxiety, and he’d gripped his knife tighter.
“I got a bad feelin’ ’bout this,” he’d said again.
“Will you cut it out?” Axl snapped. “Even if we do come ’cross one of them bastards we’ll be okay. You and me is immune, remember?”
Angus had ground his teeth to stop from telling his brother what a fool he was being.
Parv had softened him too much, he’d decided. When they were younger, Angus never would have let his little brother get away with calling the shots. Back then, Angus had been the boss. The older brother who knew what was best in every situation. Axl had been fine with it, too, right up until the moment he’d met Vivian—
Vivian. Shit, she was going to kick Angus’s ass too, which was fucking ironic considering she’d been the one who’d first encouraged Axl to think for himself.
Angus had started walking faster.
In no time, they were surrounded by darkness, but it hadn’t mattered. The brothers had been to this area more than enough over the years to know where they were going even in the darkness. Still, the uneasiness in Angus hadn’t eased, and he felt suddenly jumpy. Felt like he knew something he shouldn’t. It was a feeling he’d never had before and one he couldn’t really explain, but it was there, and he couldn’t deny it. Something bad was about to happen.
He’d stopped walking, and the horse had as well. “We gotta go back.”
“Don’t be dumb,” Axl had said, not even pausing. “We’re almost there.”
Angus grumbled to himself, looked around, and gnawed on his lip. What now? How could he convince Axl they had to turn back?
“Axl,” he’d called after his brother, “you gotta listen.”
Axl had finally stopped and turned to face him, but his expression had been impossible to read through the blackness. “What?”
This time, there was no irritation in his voice, only concern.
“I don’t know, I just got a bad feelin’. We gotta go back.”
Axl let out a deep sigh, and Angus had relaxed. He was going to listen. Everything was going to be okay.
It was just as the thought went through his head that the thing came out of nowhere, screeching from the darkness and slamming into Axl. It had happened so fast that Angus hadn’t reacted. Not when his brother’s body hit the ground and the sickly-sweet scent filled his nostrils, and not when the creature howled. He’d stood frozen in shock, unable to move or think until Axl’s scream of agony jolted him into action.
Angus had moved then, his knife up and ready as he’d rushed toward his fallen brother. The creature was on top of Axl, and as Angus approached, it twisted its head in his direction and let out another bloodcurdling howl. Even in the darkness, Angus had been able to see how much blood there was. It had covered the creature’s face, dripped down his chin and neck. Its fingers were digging into Axl’s arms, its long nails puncturing the skin and drawing blood, but its focus was on Angus.
“Son of a bitch,” Angus had growled as he raised his knife.
Before he’d been able to bring it down, the thing struck, propelling itself off Axl and flying through the air. It had slammed into Angus, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending him back. He’d hit the ground, and his knife went flying.
Angus had been gasping for breath, trying to fill his empty lungs when the creature’s teeth sank into his arm. Pain had burst through him, but he couldn’t scream. Couldn’t fight. Couldn’t do anything but wheeze and pant
“I’m comin’!” Axl had called.
A second later, the thing was pulled off him, and Angus had been able to breathe. He’d sucked in a mouthful of air, and his throbbing lungs expanded, then he let it out before filling them again. Once he’d been sure he wasn’t suffocating, he was up. Axl and the thing were still fighting, and through the moonlight, Angus had watched as his brother threw a punch, getting the creature in the face, then another. It had howled each time but, obviously impervious to pain, hadn’t let up.
Angus looked around, his heart in his throat as he’d searched for his knife. Moonlight glinted off the blade, and he dove for it, barely noticing the pain when it sliced through his fingers. In his haste, he’d grabbed the wrong end, but he couldn’t focus on that at the moment. Axl. He had to get to Axl.
He’d been panting, cursing himself for giving in, for not insisting they go home. Cursing himself for his age and his aching body, and because Axl was the one on the ground fighting for his life. It should have been Angus.
He’d reached the creature and grabbed it by the shoulder, trying to steady it enough that he could get in a good shot, then struck. His blade sank into the thing’s head, cutting through bone and gray matter, and the thing had let out one more wail. Then it had dropped, falling on top of Axl. Unmoving. Dead.
Still gasping, Angus had pulled the creature’s body off his brother and shoved it aside, freezing at the sight in front of him. Axl’s hands were on his stomach, and there was blood everywhere. So much that at first Angus couldn’t register what he was seeing, couldn’t make sense of the tube-like object beneath his brother’s hands. Then it had hit him. Intestines. Axl’s stomach had been ripped open, and he was desperately trying to hold his bowels inside.
“No!” Angus dropped his knife and fell to his knees, reaching for his brother but freezing with his hand inches from him. “No.”
The word was a whine.
Axl coughed and gasped and winced, but he hadn’t been able to get any words out.
“No!” Angus screamed this time, and his voice had echoed through the darkness, coming back to taunt him. Coming back to remind him whose fault this was.
Axl sucked in a breath, had blown it out, and seemed to collect himself. “Vivian,” he’d said. “Megan. Margot.” He’d closed his eyes, and a tear dripped from the corner of one, rolling down his cheek. “Tell them—” He’d gasped. “Tell them—”
“Tell them yourself,” Angus had said, the words snapping him out of his stupor.
He had to get his brother home.
Axl let out a moan of agony when Angus scooped him into his arms. His brother’s shirt was saturated with blood, and in seconds Angus’s was as well, but he’d tried not to think about it. He forgot about the rabbits, the traps, had no clue where his horse had gone. Even his knife was forgotten in his panic to get his brother home. Angus had just moved, walking as fast as he could, his dying brother in his arms and moaning with each step.
He’d never forgive himself. Never get over this. Never be able to look at his own reflection again without hating the man staring back at him.
Axl had groaned again.
“We’re almost there, li’l brother,” Angus had said, gasping and grunting. “Hold on. Just hold on.”
Sooner than he could have thought possible, almost as if Angus had somehow learned how to fly, the walls had come into view, and he’d yelled, “Open the gate! Open the gate!”
Someone called out a response, but he hadn’t been able to make it out. A second later there was movement, and slowly, the gate began to open. As soon as it was wide enough, people rushed out. He’d seen her right away, her blonde hair streaming behind her as she ran, her brown eyes wide with terror.
“Axl!” Vivian had shouted. “What happened? Angus, what happened?”
“Viv—” was all Axl managed to get out.
“Doctor,” Angus had huffed. “We need a doctor.”
Even as he’d said it, he knew it wouldn’t matter. The damage was too extensive. There was too much blood, and the stink of feces too pronounced, telling Angus the creature had perforated his brother’s intestines. There was no c
oming back from that.
Vivian had Axl’s hand in hers as they rushed through the gate, and the second they were inside, Angus dropped to his knees. He could barely catch his breath and they were surrounded by people, but all he could focus on was his brother.
“Oh, God,” Vivian had sobbed. “Oh, God, no. Please. No!”
Her shoulders were shaking, and tears had streamed down her cheeks in a torrent, dropping onto Axl’s hand, which was still clutched in hers. His eyes had been glazed over and unfocused, but he must have been aware of her presence, because he kept whispering her name.
“Don’t leave me, Axl,” she’d said. “You can’t. I need you. I can’t do this without you.”
He’d swallowed, seemed to gather himself, and said, “You gotta. Promise.”
Vivian had only sobbed harder and shaken her head.
“Tell Meg and Margot I love ’em,” Axl had said. “Always.”
Vivian had nodded and swiped her hand across her cheek almost violently as Axl turned his gray eyes on Angus.
“Take care of ’em.”
Tears had filled Angus’s eyes, and his own sobs were dangerously close to breaking free, but he wanted to wait. Not because he was ashamed of his emotions, but because he didn’t want to waste this moment. This final moment he’d ever have with his brother.
“Always,” Angus had managed to get out.
Axl reached for his brother, grabbing his shirt with his free hand and pulling him closer. His voice was so low Angus had to strain to hear it. “Don’t you blame yourself. This ain’t your fault. You’ve always looked out for me, always, and you done your best. You got nothin’ to be ashamed of.”
Angus hadn’t been able to respond, but he did nod.
It seemed to be enough for Axl, who dropped his hand and closed his eyes. His breathing was shallow and labored, his expression strained, and the blood… There was so much blood. More than Angus had ever seen, which was saying a lot because he had seen a hell of a lot of death in this life, and he’d lost people he’d loved desperately, but none of it had been as difficult as this. This was threatening to destroy him, to rip his heart out, to shatter him.
Broken World | Novel | Angus Page 7