Broken World | Novel | Angus

by Mary, Kate L.

  He’d gone through the closets and drawers when they first arrived, but he hadn’t been looking for a sewing kit at the time, so he retraced his steps, ignoring the way his limbs throbbed. The jacket was tucked under his arm as he rifled through the nightstand and dug things out of the back of the closet, but he came up empty.

  Out in the main part of the cabin, Angus found Naya hard at work in the kitchen, the various plants she collected scattered across the counter. There was a pile of mushrooms, cleaned and sliced, and beside them sat a handful of little white tubers that had also been prepared. Wild onions dotted with dirt sat waiting for the girl’s attention, as well as several green plants he didn’t recognize. There was also a pile of walnuts still in the shell.

  Angus watched Naya work for a few seconds, taking in the deft way she sliced the knife through a root of some kind, before clearing his throat.

  Naya paused and glanced over her shoulder.

  “You seen a sewing kit or something like that?”

  She set the knife down. “I have one.”

  “You do?”

  “In my backpack.” Naya tilted her head toward the living room. “You’re welcome to it.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “No problem.” She gave him a smile before turning back to her work.

  Angus tossed the jacket on the couch when he reached it, then knelt beside Naya’s bookbag. It was ratty and patched in several places, sewn together on the side with jagged stitches, and the bottom reinforced with a denim square. The zipper pull was missing, too, and in its place was a twisted piece of metal, which Angus used to open the bag. Inside he found an assortment of items. An empty metal water bottle, old bandages, a change of socks, and a book, to name a few, but not the sewing kit.

  He dug deeper, pushing things aside before finally deciding it was easier to just dump the contents. Turning the bag upside down, he shook it and the items tumbled out, landing in a pile on the floor in front of him. The sewing kit included.

  He put it aside before swiping the items up and dropping them into the bag, and it was then that his gaze zeroed in on the book. It was a Bible. Old and worn, it was about the size of his hand and had a white leather cover with gold embossed letters.

  The book was something he hadn’t seen in a long, long time. After the establishment of The Church, the use of Bibles had pretty much been abolished, replaced by the teachings of the High Priestess—which had all revolved around the return of Angus James and the destruction of the zombies. He’d only heard one or two of the crazy sermons himself, but he knew the religion had nothing to do with Jesus or salvation and everything to do with insanity. Books like the one in his hand had all been destroyed.

  Angus flipped through the Bible, the thin pages fluttering quietly as the words whirled by, but paused when actual handwriting caught his attention. He flipped to the very center of the book where the pages were made of thicker paper and covered in writing. Names with numbers written beside them he could only assume were birth and death dates. Halfway down the first page, the writing changed, then again on the next page where the carefully written dates had been replaced by simple numbers. He spotted Naya’s name toward the bottom—no number written beside it—and focused on the one printed directly above it.

  Palima – 5

  This must have been Naya’s sister, the one who’d gotten sick and died at the age of five.

  Angus scanned the names again, his gaze settling on the one he knew had been the girl’s mother. Samira had been written in neat script, but the number thirty-six scribbled beside it was in a different handwriting and had been written in pencil.

  He ran his finger over the number. It was fresh, newer than most of the writing on the pages, and he found his gaze traveling to the table, searching for the pencil he’d noticed before. It was no longer there, but Naya must have used it to fill in her mother’s age.

  He looked back at the book, once again scanning the names, and found other writing that matched the number thirty-six. A five had been scrawled next to the name Michael, and there was a question mark next to the name Dot. A forty-one beside Patricia. Twenty-three. Sixteen. Fifty-nine. Fifty-four. He counted the numbers written in pencil. Fourteen in all. Were these the names of the people Naya had watched die over the last few weeks?

  The book still in his hand, Angus lifted his gaze. The girl was in the kitchen, still chopping away, and for once she didn’t seem older than her age. She seemed young, and the thought of everything she’d gone through caused a fierce protectiveness to sweep over Angus. He’d known for a long time—since before the virus and the zombies—that life wasn’t fair, but rarely had he felt it as strongly as he did at that moment.

  Not wanting Naya to think he was snooping, he slipped the Bible back into her bag and replaced the rest of the items. Then he grabbed the jacket and sewing kit and got to his feet. He had things he needed to do so they were ready to go in the morning, and he couldn’t get distracted. He needed to fix his jacket, wash it and hang it by the fireplace to dry, then do a little hunting. Among other things.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Their first day back on the road proved to be more difficult than either of them could have anticipated. He was mostly healed, the cuts on his arms and legs now nothing but red scars and his throat scabbed over. Still, his body hurt, and while Naya didn’t complain once, Angus couldn’t ignore the way she favored her injured ankle as they walked.

  “You doin’ okay?” he asked less than an hour after they’d left the cabin.

  “Fine,” she replied, her face scrunched up in concentration.

  He didn’t believe her.

  The day was still early, but the overcast sky made it feel much later. It had been a wet fall so far, and had rained every day since they found the cabin, and while it wasn’t yet dark enough to worry that the creatures might venture out, Angus was keeping a close eye on the gray clouds in the distance just in case a storm did sweep in.

  They stopped for an early lunch—some of the meat left over from the rabbit he’d shot the day before and a handful of the wild greens Naya had wrangled up—and Angus took his time. He would have done it for Naya regardless, but the second he lowered himself to the ground, he realized he’d needed the break as well. Despite how much better he felt, the days of doing nothing had taken a toll on his body, and he hadn’t bounced back as much as he’d thought.

  Already, Angus missed the comfort of the little cabin. His feet throbbed from the hours of walking, and the muscles in his legs ached like this was the first time he’d forced them to travel so many miles in a day. Even worse, the odds of finding another place as nice as the one they’d left were slim. Most likely, they’d be sleeping on a floor tonight instead of a bed or even a couch, and his body throbbed at the thought.

  “How are you holding up?” Naya asked then took a bite of rabbit, chewing slowly like she, too, was trying to stretch out the break.

  “Ain’t gonna lie,” he said, “I’ve had better days.”

  “Me too,” she replied, letting out a deep sigh. “I’m not sure how far I’m going to be able to walk today. I thought my ankle was in better shape than it is.”

  Angus nodded, his mouth too full of rabbit to respond, and eyed the distant storm clouds. Once he swallowed, he said, “We’ll make it a short day. Don’t wanna push ourselves too much.”

  Naya’s head bobbed in agreement.

  They had plenty of water thanks to what they’d collected at the cabin, so there was no need to boil any before they continued on. Much to Angus’s disappointment—another twenty minutes of rest would have been welcome—but moving on was the best thing for them. There was nothing around except forests and trees, and he wanted to make sure they got somewhere safe before the storm moved in.

  Once he’d had his fill of rabbit, he dragged himself to his feet with a groan and threw his backpack over his shoulder. Naya was already up, her weight distributed so she wasn’t putting too much strain on her bad ankle as s
he started walking. The first few steps made Angus’s calves throb, but he pushed himself, focusing not on his aching body but on the road in front of him, and before long, he barely even noticed the movement.

  The forests were broken up by the occasional crumbling building. They’d left the mountain behind, but the area was still rocky and the altitude higher, and the air was thick and chilly when Angus inhaled, making him feel like he was gasping for breath. Luckily, they seemed to be heading down, though, and would hopefully be able to breathe better soon.

  The road they were traveling on was as overgrown as everywhere else. Cracked and fissured from time, weather, and neglect, it was barely visible in places. Weeds and dead leaves covered it, and trees grew where cars had once traveled. Twice he and Naya even came to an area where rocks nearly blocked their path. The first one they were able to go around since the landslide had only covered half the street, but the second had succeeded in obscuring the road completely, forcing them to climb over the giant boulders.

  The day wore on, and they stopped once more to rest when they finally reached a lower altitude. The rabbit had been a small one and was gone now, leaving them with only the wild plants and nuts Naya had managed to find. Angus’s stomach growled with need. He had the bow, but just the idea of hunting wore him out, and he was thankful Naya seemed to understand. She lowered herself to the ground, saying nothing about looking for more food, and divided their meager means of sustenance into two even portions.

  Angus shoved a wild onion in his mouth, chomping down on it and barely noticing when the flavor exploded in his mouth.

  He swallowed. “Should be able to find a neighborhood now that we ain’t up in the mountains.”

  Naya turned her gaze to the sky, her frown deepening. “I don’t know how much longer the rain is going to hold off.”

  “Yeah,” he said, sighing.

  He was missing the cabin more and more as the day wore on.

  They kept the second break short, wanting to get somewhere safe before the clouds opened up and they got soaked to the bone. The sky seemed to darken by the minute, the clouds thickening, but thankfully there was enough light that Angus didn’t feel like they were in danger. Hopefully, that didn’t change before they found someplace safe.

  Less than ten minutes after setting out again, they came to an off ramp. The green exit sign was still standing, covered in ivy that blocked out everything but the faded white E, and beyond that stood a blue sign. The logos of the various businesses that used to exist here were no longer legible, but the sign itself was enough to tell Angus that at one time there must have been a town nearby.

  “This way,” he said, nodding to the exit as he started walking up the ramp.

  Naya followed him in silence, her limp now more pronounced. Hopefully, staying off her feet for a few hours helped and she would be ready to move on tomorrow.

  The air was now damp with moisture, the day having grown hazier by the time a few buildings came into view. Old gas stations, what looked like a McDonald’s, and a couple other businesses Angus couldn’t identify. It was what loomed beyond them that had his attention, though. A wall. There must have been a settlement here at one point.

  At the sight of it, Naya started walking faster, practically hobbling now.

  Angus studied the wall as they drew closer, his gaze sweeping over it appraisingly. The area around it was overgrown, tall grass and weeds clogging the meadow leading up to the settlement, with bursts of brightly colored blooms dotting the greenery. White, yellow, and purple. The colors would have made the area appear bright and festive if not for the silence hanging over them. Ivy spread across the wall, blocking most of it from view, but patches of rusted metal were visible in a few places. It was very similar to the wall that had surrounded Senoia.

  “Looks sturdy,” Naya said, studying it as closely as he was.

  Thunder rumbled through the silence, and Angus frowned up at the sky. “Should find a place to take shelter.”

  “Maybe we can get inside,” Naya suggested, her gaze sweeping up, focusing on the top of the wall. “If we find the gate?”

  They followed the wall in silence, picking their way through weeds that grabbed at their clothes as if trying to hold them back, and tall grass that swayed in the gentle fall breeze. The farther they walked, the more the little settlement reminded Angus of Senoia, and the more a sense of unease fell over him. This place should have been safe. The people who’d lived inside the walls should have been untouched by the creatures. They’d done everything right, after all. They’d built a wall and fortified it, had even put up watch towers. Just like Senoia had. But it hadn’t been enough, not for these people and not for the people he’d lived with back in what had once been Georgia, because the town had fallen victim to the creatures. Just like the rest of the world had.

  Now that they were back on the road, Naya had the locket tucked safely beneath her sweater, but she pulled it free as they walked, once again twisting it between her fingers.

  They only had to walk a little farther before they came upon the gate. It was shut tight and overgrown with ivy just like the rest of the wall, and seemingly impossible to open from outside. Angus tried anyway, yanking on the handle as hard as he could. The gate shook and groaned but was obviously secured from the inside.

  He swore and stepped back.

  “There must be a breach on the other side of town.” Naya pushed the pendant inside the collar of her sweater as she looked around, her gaze bouncing from the gate to the top of the wall as if trying to absorb every detail. “I mean, it looks so solid. There has to be a hole somewhere. How else would the creatures have gotten in?”

  Angus puckered his lips, fighting the urge to spit. “Walls don’t work.”

  Naya’s gaze snapped to him. “What?”

  “Walls don’t do shit to keep ’em out,” he told her. “They climb as fast as they run. Swoop in out of nowhere. Take people like that.”

  He snapped his fingers, and Naya jerked away, her eyes huge.

  “How do you think they managed to wipe everybody out?” He felt his lips pucker when a bitter, vile taste filled his mouth, and this time he did spit.

  “I don’t know.” The girl swallowed. “I guess I thought they broke through poorly constructed walls.” Her gaze moved back to the gate. “But this…”

  She acted like she couldn’t bring herself to say anything else.

  “We can look the rest over if it’ll make you happy,” he said, “but I’m tellin’ you it’s gonna be good.”

  Naya’s head bobbed, but Angus could tell she needed to see it for herself, so he sighed and started walking, motioning for her to follow. “Come on.”

  They continued, circling the settlement in search of a hole or weak spot, or maybe even a way to get over the wall and inside. There was nothing, though, just like Angus had predicted, and by the time they made it back to the gate, Naya looked like she might be sick.

  Angus stepped back, studying the wall as he thought it through. If he could get inside, he could open the gate. He knew what condition the houses would be in, but that didn’t mean he and Naya wouldn’t be able to find somewhere to barricade themselves for the night.

  Ivy blocked most of the wall from view, so he started grabbing handfuls of the stuff, yanking it free and tossing it aside. Naya joined him, not bothering to ask what he was doing, and together they pried the greenery from the metal surface until he was able to get a better look at the wall. Once the ivy was gone, he could see why the creatures had been able to climb it so easily. Metal sheets had been welded together just like in Senoia, only here there was an occasional gap, leaving the perfect foothold for anyone who wanted to get over. Whoever had made this wall had only been thinking about zombies, which were uncoordinated. The creatures, however, were more human. They could climb, could reason, and their reflexes were far superior than even a person’s. Scrambling over this wall would have been easy.

  “I’m goin’ up,” he said, dropping
his bag, the bow, and the quiver of arrows to the ground. “Stay here and keep your eyes open.”

  “Be careful.”

  Angus glanced toward Naya, gave a tense nod, then started climbing.

  He used the small holes between the metal sheets to pull himself up a little at a time. The toe of his boot barely fit in the slots, and the metal threatened to cut into his hands when he grasped it, but he had enough of a grip that he didn’t feel in danger of falling. He gritted his teeth and climbed, ignoring the slicing pain in his palms. Telling himself that even if the metal did leave gashes in his hands, he would heal.

  He made it to the top without issue and pulled himself over, straddling the wall for a second so he could take a look around—and give his hands a break. Like the exterior, the settlement was overgrown and the houses rundown. Their windows were shattered, their front doors broken through, completely ripped from their hinges, or just hanging open. It looked exactly the way Senoia had after the creatures raided it. The way New Atlanta had only a few short weeks later.

  Angus let out an exhausted breath, threw his other leg over, and began his slow climb down.

  He was still five feet from the ground when he let go, his boots hitting the soft earth with a thud. He took a second to catch his breath, flipping his hands over as he did. A gash cut across his left palm, small and relatively minor—it would heal quickly—but there was a good size laceration on the right one. It wasn’t deep, but it was dripping blood and would take a day or so to heal. Angus curled his hands into fists, gritting his teeth. He’d just barely gotten over his other injuries, and the thought of the cut bugging him for even one day pissed him off.

  “Angus?” Naya called.

  “Comin’.”

  He jogged over to inspect the gate, pushing all thoughts of the injury aside, and once he’d removed more of the ivy, was relieved to find a rusty metal bolt that would be easy to undo. It creaked and protested when Angus lifted it, but gave with very little effort, and once it had, he pushed the gate open.