by Tara Brown
I glance at Anna, hoping she isn’t too scared. I force the thought from my brain and look back at the infected dinner party. The last time I worried about either her or Jake, I got shot.
I pull my mask from my back pocket and slide if over my face and loop it around my head. It's not a guarantee, but it's better than a risk and it's a rule. I wear it whenever they are around. The virus should have died out years ago, but some of the ones who got sick after it mutated survived, if you can call it that. They are contagious but don’t seem to die, no matter how sick their bodies get. There aren’t many of them left, but somehow they still manage to ruin lives—like mine.
Mentally I count the heads. Seven. Not to mention the one on the ground, if it's a human. It could be an animal. The infected have no sense. They attack anything that moves. Their hunger is too great. I've seen them attack a bush on a windy day.
With my bow I can take down three before they get close enough to make pulling another arrow a gamble. I don’t like gambles. I know Anna has a pocket full of bullets, but I will be forced to trust she can shoot them before the infected get to me. It too feels like a gamble when I think about it. Not to mention, the sounds of the gunshots will bring other things.
I’m stuck with my back against a wall. I know Leo will take down one. Together we can guarantee four but it doesn’t feel safe enough. I glance back up the hill behind me and fight the desire to go home. The want to climb the hill and climb into my own bed and lock the world out. Again I regret opening the stupid door. I should have left them. I should have left him in the hole.
I am about to run and whistle, when I look at Jake once more. He winks at me and grins. My stomach does the hurting twinge thing.
I pull the arrow back and sight in the largest one. I feel for the gusts of wind and the cycle they seem to come in. A large gust hits and then leaves space in the air until the next one. I exhale and release the arrow. He has dark-brown hair and his face is swollen. He was a man once. I turn my heart off to him and reload instantly.
I wait for the next gust and fire, compensating for it. The arrow slices into a matted head of dark-blonde locks. I pull another arrow, ignoring the tickles on my cheeks. The infected have noticed two are down. They turn their faces around, searching. My next arrow hits the milky eye of an older one. The remaining four stand up and begin to make the squeal. I cringe, knowing the sound will haunt me for weeks.
My next arrow hits the one pointing at me. She drops the second it slides through her open mouth.
I shiver at the sight and pull another arrow as the remaining three shriek and start their mad dash toward me.
I drop another one before turning and running for the nearest tree. I want to run the other way. I want to run into the hills and leave Anna and Jake, but my feet don’t listen to me. My leg won't make it far with the bullet hole in it. The long grass tangles in my feet and pulls at me. My leg burns and tries to convince me to stop running.
"Emma. Emma.” I ignore the voice and run. Panic is hitting. "Emma, they're all dead."
I reach the bark of the huge tree. I want to climb, but the pain in my thigh is killing me. I grip the massive branch and pull myself into the tree using only my arms. I've practiced this. I pull myself up and sit on the branch. I look down at the two people standing in the grass looking at me like I'm nuts. Leo paces. He understands. We've run from them many times.
Jake approaches the tree, limping slightly. He puts his hands out like he is scared of me. “Emma, they're all dead."
"How?"
Anna beams. “I shot them. I waited for them to run to you and then dropped them all instantly."
"You? You killed them?"
She tilts her head. “You still don’t trust us to help you?"
I want to say yes, but I sit for a moment in the tree.
"I'm stuck. I can’t jump or it’ll hurt my leg."
Jake stands below the huge branch and puts his arms out. “Jump."
I throw down my bow and arrows and look around. The field doesn’t move, except where the winds stroke the dark amber-colored grass.
I turn over on my belly and lower myself from the branch. I hang there for a second before the strong arms circle me and hold me tightly. The screaming agony of my leg is dulled suddenly.
Leo nudges my legs and whines.
Jake's breath brushes against my face as he speaks softly, “You looked a bit like you were going to run away."
I don't realize how close our faces are until I see myself in his eyes. I bite my lower lip and shake my head. “I panicked. I've never been hurt like this when they were close before. They can smell a wound from a long ways."
He pulls me close. “I'll protect you, Emma.” He looks toward his sister. “We both will."
I can see the darkness in her eyes. It's the same look I give everyone.
"Thanks.” I say it just loud enough.
She nods. “You killed most of them. You have to leave more for me to kill next time."
I still feel scared and alone.
Jake places me on the ground softly. “Emma, you're like Robin Hood."
I almost smile, hearing the reference to the novel I love.
Anna sighs. “Jake, don’t start again on the stories."
I look at him. “I love reading too. I've read the same books for ten years. Sometimes I get lucky and find a small paperback that I can fit in my pack. Robin Hood is one of my favorites. My granny read it to me when I was little."
Jake smiles and I see it. There is joy inside of him that I have never seen before. When I see it in him, I know I have seen it in the world before. It's just been so long, I forget how it felt to be near it. He makes it feel like the world didn’t end, and I like that.
Instead of enjoying the feeling of being near him, a heavy disgusting feeling blankets me. It forces away the borrowed joy from him.
I almost left him. I almost left them. I will leave him. It's my nature. I need to stop getting attached to them.
He frowns at me. “I'd ask a penny for your thoughts, but I think it would be more than I can afford."
I chuckle, but it isn’t the free feeling of joy I had seconds ago. It’s a heavy and bitter laugh, the only one I have ever really had.
I walk away from him and pat Leo, who is suddenly needy. He rubs up against me and jumps up on his back legs to stand. He wraps his paws around me. I hug him back.
"I love you too.” I whisper into his fur. I glance at them and nod in the direction of the farmhouse. “It's a day's walk to the house.” I point down the hill.
"We need to deal with him too.” Anna points at the beige mass at the bottom of the field and trees.
I squint. “It's a man."
"Great. You get to kill him.” She sounds disappointed.
I hand over the bow and an arrow to her. She thinks like me, and I like it. She never fired once when I was shooting the arrows. She understands ammo conservation.
She gives me a wide-eyed smile and takes the bow. “Really? I've never done this before."
"We need to walk closer to him. When you pull the arrow back, control every inch of your arms. It feels hard at first, but you get used to the tension."
We walk to where the hill crests. We are near one of the fallen infected. I can smell him. I point at a tree farther to the right. “Let's stand over there."
We walk away from the smell of the rotting carcass. At the tree she attempts to pull the arrow back. Her skinny arms tremble.
She looks frustrated.
“I know how you feel right now. It took me two years. It won't happen on the first try."
She pouts. “Can we make me a bow maybe?"
I nod excitedly. We haven’t had much to talk about. I thought maybe we were too alike to get along, but we seem to be okay.
I take the bow and arrow. I pull back and sight in the dying man. His body trembles slightly. His skin has chew marks. The infected will eat anything.
"Hold it steady. Sight in what you wan
t to shoot and then take a deep breath.” I exhale and release the arrow. We are close enough that it makes a slicing sound as it enters his temple. “Always exhale when you release.” I grimace when I see the arrow sticking out of his mushy and bleeding head.
"Wow."
I nod. “Yeah, it took a lot of practice."
"Sweet friggin’ God."
We both turn. “What?"
Jake is standing behind us. “You guys do realize that's a person you just shot. These were all people."
Anna scoffs. “They're infected, Jake. They're not like you or me or even the city people."
I frown. “City people?” I haven’t heard this term in about ten years.
Jake looks down at the grass and sighs. “We agreed we wouldn't talk about it.”
Anna ignores him and looks at me. “We saw it. We went close enough to see it."
"Electricity? Running water?” My hopes start building but the new world disappoints so brutally that I know not to let them get too high.
She nods. “Everything. No cars but a train and houses and pretty big buildings. It's on the edge of the desert, closer to the ocean but not too close. Not near the old cities."
Asking the question sickens me, but I ask anyway. “What about the farms? Are there farms there?"
She shivers. “Jake thinks the babies go to the city after they're born in the farms."
“I saw it. I saw them load a truck of babies—toddlers. That's what Dad called them. Toddlers. They were little kids like that Village of the Damned movie. All white kids and all blond and fair. It was friggin’ creepy.” Jake sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “We give the city a wide berth.”
"He's military."
"What?” When I turn around, Anna is pointing at the dead man with the arrow sticking out of his temple. I grimace at his boots and shake my head. “We need to be far away. Now. If the military are in the hills, we don't want to be."
We don’t talk. We leave the arrows sticking out of the faces of the people on the ground. I never take the arrows from the infected. We walk across the small field and into the forest on the other side.
My eyes never leave Leo the entire walk. Leo is the best warning system.
Chapter Six
The farmhouse sits quiet, just like I had hoped it would. I've never come back to it so quickly. It serves our purpose the best though. It has the longest, most off-the-beaten-track driveway of the four, and it's the closest to my cabin.
We peel off our soaking-wet clothes. My wound burns from the cold river water and the exertion of wading through the river for such a long ways.
I have crossed there before, but it's not my favorite way to get to the house. I've been followed before. I don’t know if we were followed today, but I can't chance it.
I can't help but steal a glance at Jake as he pulls his wet shirt off and drops his jeans on the floor. His wound is bright purple. The brand-new scar that's developing is lumpy and ugly. I notice a fresh bit of blood and point at it. “What happened?”
He shrugs. “I cut it in the river on a branch. It’ll heal.”
I shake my head. “It's bigger than I thought it would be."
He winks at me. “That's what she said.”
I scowl. I don't understand. He laughs to himself and I feel like an idiot. I pull my pants off and notice for the first time he has drawings of dinner rolls on his boxers. They make me raise an eyebrow.
He laughs. “Buttered buns."
"I don’t get it."
"That's because you were nine when the world went crazy."
My face is blushing, realizing it's obviously something filthy. “You were only eleven,” I say out of spite.
He laughs. “I was, but my older brother was sixteen. So that makes me more like fifteen when it happened."
I wrinkle my nose, but he doesn’t stop talking.
"Will was a bad kid. Our dad used to get so mad at him. He had a magazine collection that could shock a whore."
I flinch at the word. I know what it means, and I know how it works but I've never physically heard anyone say it, except the others. The conversation feels wrong suddenly.
"One time he was dating this girl Angela and he—"
"Jake.” Anna interrupts him, wearing a distasteful face. “Dirty Will stories in your underwear is creepy, dude."
Jake blushes and looks down at me through his bangs.
"Where is your brother?” I don’t want to ask but I know I have to change the subject, and it’s the first thing in my mind.
Anna answers from behind me, “We hope dead."
I nod and leave it at that, knowing that feeling.
Jake's face is haunted. I swear I see guilt but I leave it too.
It’s weird being in the house, not just because it's one of my havens, but also because I am never with other people. Ever. My leg aches and I know I won't sleep. I look at Anna. “You guys sleep first. Me and Leo will take first watch."
Jake frowns. “Why don’t we all just sleep. There is no way anyone followed us, Emma."
I want to slap him. It is irrational, but his survival skills leave a lot to be desired. Instead, I turn and walk away. Anna has it. “Jake, we will take watch here every night. It just feels safe here—that doesn’t mean it is."
"Fine. Whatever."
I pull the knife that I stole from the dead military guy out of my boot and rub it down with the bleach from under the sink. I wipe the blade down, and my fingers. I pour water from my bottle over my fingers and the blade. I hate that I touched something of someone else's, but it’s the nicest knife I’ve seen in a long time.
I catch Jake watching me but I ignore him. Instead, I glance at Leo, who has positioned himself in front of the back door and curled into a ball. “So much for helping, hey boy?"
He opens one yellow eye and closes it again. He has been nothing but trouble since we found Anna and Jake. Lucky I love him.
I take my new knife, my bow and quiver, and my bottle of water to the door. I rub Leo's head once and head out into the night quietly. I move with stealth across the gravel as silently as I can.
I open the barn door and slip inside. The darkness of the barn is frightening, but I grip the handle of the blade for strength. I climb the stairs, feeling like something will grab my feet at any second and drag me down into the hay. I will finally hear my greatest fear: my flesh and clothes ripping and tearing.
I climb into the hayloft and sit in the open window. The dark night is silent. I don’t like silence. I like the sounds of animals telling me I am safe. I open my ears and close my mind against the sounds that haunt me.
I hear them suddenly—the sounds of the night creatures, that will warn me of any intruders, fill my ears. There is a cricket, a single cricket out in the field. There’s a bat off in the woods south of the farm and something snorts behind the barn in a way that makes me smile. Whatever it is, it's rooting. The signs of life fill me with a mistaken and misguided hope. I know the reality of it all. I am not fooled by the warm and fuzzy feelings.
I know we are lost. All of humanity is.
I know what we have done to each other. We are no longer human. Our humanity is lost. The animals have bested us in behavior and survival. Leo bests me regularly.
The door to the house slips open. Anna crosses the driveway carefully.
A smile crosses my lips. She is a survivor.
"I think his leg is infected,” she whispers when she gets close enough.
Her words are left there, hanging with our breaths in the dark of the loft. I don't know what to say. If he’s infected we might not be able to help him in time. “He might just have the flu."
“It’s infection. I noticed he was hot and scratching at it. The edge of the wound that he tore open in the river is oozing.” Her whispered words coil inside of me. I know what we must do but I'm not prepared to do it. I’m tired and out of my comfort zone.
She sees my face in the dull moonlight. “I know. I feel the same way.
"
"The medicines are all expired. Our only hope will be the towns.” My stomach is aching just thinking about it.
"I have to go for him. I couldn’t really see very well, but I think the red lines have started. My dad warned me about the red lines. He said they mean death."
My stare leaves the deserted yard and fixes on her eyes glistening in the moonlight. “I will go alone."
The glistening spot in the dark lowers. “I can't ask that of you."
"He can't travel."
"But I can't ask that of you. He is my burden.” Her voice cracks.
It should make me want to cry, thinking about it all, but I can’t help but smile at him being so incompetent. "He really is a burden, isn’t he? How is he so clueless and still alive?"
Her lips curl into a grim smile the darkness can't hide from me. “He worshipped our brother. They joked and laughed while Dad tried to teach us how to survive. Dad always called them the grasshoppers who played all summer."
The reference makes me flinch as my granny's face flashes across my mind.
"When Dad died, Will took care of us, but he wasn't a survivor. It wasn’t his fault. Dad let them play.” I can hear the tears filling her face. “When Will got taken, I was eleven. Jake has tried, but he's—well—he's a moron."
I stare out into the yard and sigh. “He's kind of amazing, Anna. He's still full of the things we've all lost. He says the things people said then. He makes jokes and makes me feel like everything didn't end. He smiles and laughs and sings. I heard him humming the other day and I almost shot him myself, and then I realized I haven’t hummed since I was nine years old.” My skin shivers when I think about spying on him humming. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.