Deserted Lands (Book 2): Straight Into Darkness

by Robert L. Slater

  She spewed some words onto the paper. Hoping to find something that sounded good or meant something. After five minutes the only one that stuck with her was, “I believe I should be leaving.” She flicked to a new page.

  Dear baby,

  It scares me to think that you may not grow up to read this. Everything seems so tentative. Six months ago I wouldn’t have believed I would be here in Provo, Utah, having a baby. Zach Riley is your father. He is one of my oldest friends. He saved me when the rest of the world fell apart. He kept me from falling apart. We are not together as a couple.

  “Damn.” All her life she’d wanted her dad to be there. And what had she done? Gotten pregnant and practically guaranteed that her child would never get to live with both parents at the same time. Tears fell to the paper. She wiped them away and took a deep breath, trying to get it under control before Duke returned.

  The railroad tracks of cutting scars on her arm reminded her of old pain. Each one tied to a specific memory. The time she’d burnt the linoleum in the kitchen and snuck out a window to escape Mama’s screaming. The first time one of Mama’s boyfriends visited her bedroom when he wasn’t supposed to. The time Doug took Jayce out fishing alone and she screamed in her head not to let him be alone with her little brother. She traced each scar with her fingertip, like a rosary of bad memories.

  A gentle knock echoed, and Lizzie started. She flipped her notebook closed and let Duke in.

  The aroma of fried food blew into the room as Duke entered. Lizzie dug into the bag, unfurled a greasy wrapper and began shoveling fries into her mouth, making muffled sounds of pleasure. She paused to unwrap a burger and omnivore it.

  “You’re welcome,” Duke said, grabbing a burger as though he had to fight for it. “Probably not good for us either, but, hey, we’re not going to live forever.”

  Lizzie’s brain flashed back on her lyrics and dark thoughts from earlier. She crammed more fries in her mouth to crowd out her noisy thoughts. “Oh my God, this place is amazing,” she said, once she had swallowed enough to speak. “Best post-outbreak reboot ever.”

  “Oh, I forgot the drinks in the hall.” Duke hustled out into the hallway and came back in with two giant soda cups. “Wasn’t sure what you’d like so I got classic cola and a cherry cola. They add the flavoring there. Which do you want?”

  “I’ll try the cherry, but I’m not sure I can drink either.”

  “Why not?”

  “Acid. My tummy.” Lizzie sucked on the straw until it rattled; Saj whined and shifted. “That cherry is really good, but I think I’ll have some ginger ale.” Lizzie scooped up Saj and brought him over to the table.

  Saj rubbed his eyes, still fussing until he saw Duke. “Juke!”

  “Sorry. Should have asked.”

  Lizzie scooped up Saj and brought him over to the table. Duke laid out a pint-sized feast in front of the toddler, tearing open ketchup packets and squirting a little red pile next to the fries.

  “Uh oh,” Duke said. “Better eat fast, Saj, or Sissie’ll eat up all those fries.”

  She snatched one up, about to chomp it.

  “Mine,” he shrieked.

  She dropped it back in his pile. “Whoa. Peace, lil’ dude.”

  He fed himself, dipping a piece of burger into the ketchup with his chubby fingers.

  When the food was gone and Saj had bounced himself back to sleep, there was another knock on the door. “You want to get that?”

  “Sure,” Duke said, crossing quickly to the door with an eye on Saj’s sleeping form. He opened it as Zach was about to knock again.

  Zach stood there; his eyes moved from Duke to Lizzie and back. “Oh, hey, I just wanted to talk. But I can come back later.”

  “I’m about done for the night and Saj’s asleep.” Lizzie yawned.

  “I was just about to leave,” Duke said, taking the cue. “I’ll help clean up first, though.”

  Duke piled the garbage from their dinner into the trash while Zach lingered in the doorway. “Thanks for having dinner with me, Lizzie.” His smile was warm and sincere. On his way to the door he knelt and ran his hand over Saj’s scalp.

  He stood and locked eyes with her for just a little too long, then kissed her forehead. After he left, she stared at the door, confused by her feelings. Duke was a good guy and would make a great father. She liked hanging out with him, but she couldn’t see herself settling down with him.

  Lizzie carried Saj to the bedroom, with Zach trailing after her. The only person she had real affection for these day was Saj...and Rachael. Once the little guy was tucked in, she shooed Zach back to the living room.

  “I wanted to say sorry for not talking to you in the hospital,” he said, once they were alone.

  “It’s all good.”

  Zach shook his head. “No, it’s not. That’s the problem. You and Nev aren’t talking. Now she’s barely talking to me. I want both of you to be happy and everyone talking to everyone. Why can’t we just be the three musketeers again?”

  She wanted to scream at him to stop being such a man, and stop insisting she be happy, but instead she said, “That ship has sailed, Zach. This isn’t high school. We’re friends—even family—but you can’t turn back the clock.”

  “Okay, well... I wanted you to know that I’m not pissed anymore.”

  She arched her eyebrows, but he escaped out the door before she could comment on the concept that things were okay now because he had forgiven her.

  “Fuck you, Zach,” she whispered as the door swung shut.

  Zach’s biceps strained as he pulled himself up the rope hand-over hand. His feet dangled as his arms worked. Tomorrow morning would be pain, but right now testosterone raged in him as he excelled in every part of his militia training. Besides, Nev would be happy to apply a heating muscle rub later.

  When he hit the top of the rope he still had to drag his aching body onto the wooden platform. A few more feet. Spittle flew from his lips. He grunted. He threw his arm over and swung his leg up, levering himself to roll onto the platform. He paused to enjoy the triumph, but he had to know if anyone had beaten him. He peered over the platform. No one. He shoved himself to his feet and raised his arms in the air.

  “Yeah!” he shouted, collapsing into a cross-legged posture. He loved the obstacle course, the long runs, and even the endless push-ups. But the best part was the camaraderie. Yesterday he had helped Will make it the last hundred yards after he sprained his ankle. They’d still finished fifth.

  His dad had always said the Army would do him good, but he refused to admit his father was right. The Army was nothing like the Provo Militia.

  “All right boys,” the Sergeant called through a scratchy megaphone. “Come on down the back side once you’ve made it up. Meet me in the mess hall. Riley, you earned yourself a free drink!”

  Zach flexed his hands and started down the other side. The handholds were two by fours, so there was plenty to grab onto. Almost like climbing the rock wall at the YMCA.

  After showers they crossed the street to the bar they’d all adopted.

  He drank his celebratory beer, wondering if anyone was brewing more yet, and then ordered another. How many things were they still taking for granted because they could scrounge? The clock clicked over to 5:30. Nev was probably waiting for him.

  Zach started to stand. He felt good. The buzz of the second beer was taking hold. Damn near invincible. A dark shape eclipsed the light behind him. He swung around. “Duke.”

  “Zach. Thought I’d try and start over. Don’t see how we’re going to be able to ignore each other.”

  Zach’s head buzzed. “You better not break Lizzie’s heart.”

  “How is it any of your fucking business?” Duke was still smiling, but there was an edge to the smile.

  “Well, let me see. She’s my oldest friend, the mother of my baby and she’s had a pretty shitty life. Don’t make it worse.”

  Duke grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “I don’t plan on causing
her any pain. If anyone’s heart is going to be broken, it’s probably gonna be mine.” His face was somber. “I think I care about her more than she cares back.”

  Zach’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to smile. He didn’t like Duke. He certainly didn’t want to reassure him. Finally he relented. “That’s just Lizzie being Lizzie.”

  Duke stuck his hand out. “Thanks, man. Good job today.”

  When was the last time Zach had touched anyone? Shaken a hand? He couldn’t remember anyone but Nev. Maybe Lizzie.

  “I don’t have the plague. You could kiss me, and still not get sick.”

  Zach held up his hands. “No, thanks. You’re not my type.” He grasped Duke’s hand and shook it. “I got lucky today.”

  “No, Zach. You beat me. You beat all of us, fair and square. You’ve been training.” Duke said. “But I don’t think I’m cut out for this intensity. Saw a request for hunters. Think I’ll put in for a transfer. Figure we need someone who can shoot outside the walls. That’s my skill. And I’d kill for some venison.”

  Zach mentally counted how many days Duke would be out of town with a gig like that. He kept his pleasure a secret. “I’d like some venison, too.”

  “Yeah. Your next beer’s on me.” Duke looked like he had something more to say, but instead he leaned on the bar, motioning to the bartender, and walked out without looking back.

  Zach sat back down, only then realizing that someone had sat down in his booth across from him. Mr. Ray. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t see you.” He tried to stand, but the booth and table conspired to make it difficult.

  Mr. Ray grinned and gestured him to stay sitting. “No. Be comfortable. Wanted to offer my congratulations.” He offered his hand, too.

  Zach took this one without hesitation.

  “Mr. Ray.”

  “Mark, please. I’d buy you another beer, but I also want you in top form tomorrow. So, I’ll give you a rain check.”

  “Thanks.” Suddenly self-conscious of the warm stupor he was in, Zach dragged a hand down his face, trying to sober up.

  “Interesting fellow you were talking to. Are you friends?”

  “Long story.”

  “I love long stories.”

  “He’s the reason I’m here.” Zach didn’t feel like talking about Duke, or Lizzie for that matter.

  Mr. Ray seemed to sense that. “Well, Mr. Riley, you can tell me later. I appreciate a cool head.”

  “Thanks.” Zach was pretty sure that Duke had the cooler head.

  “Well, I owe him one, too,” Mr. Ray said.

  “You do?”

  “I appreciate your drive to be the best. We’ve noticed that the rest of the volunteers get better times when you’re on the field. And if he pushes you…”

  Zach chuckled. “He just told me he’s going to be a hunter.”

  “Well.” Mr. Ray gave him a fatherly smile. “We all have to find our own way. Have a good evening. I’ll be watching you tomorrow.”

  Zach felt a warmth he couldn’t entirely blame on the alcohol. It had felt like a long time since he was on top of the world, and now maybe his slump was over and he was in a streak. He didn’t want to leave, but he should be getting home to Nev. The bartender caught his eye and motioned to an empty glass. Zach nodded and the bartender put it under the tap. Some of the other boys were motioning him over to their table.

  By the time he left, he decided driving was a bad idea. When he got home he ran through the ditch to get to the yard. The snow came up to greet him. At least he’d made it almost home before falling. Upstairs he found Nev reading in bed.

  “Sorry, I’m late.”

  “No worries,” she said, not looking up. “How’d it go today?”

  “Kick ass,” Zach said.

  Nev made a noncommittal sound.

  “I’m gonna be sore tomorrow, but… it went really well.” He stripped off his clothes and slid into bed to kiss her.

  When he got close to her face, she turned away. “Maybe brush your teeth first?”

  “Real romantic, huh?” He breathed into his hand and inhaled. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Should I be? Sorry. That was really an uncool response. I’m not your wife and even if I was, I wouldn’t want to be that wife.”

  Which might mean she wanted to be his wife. But he still wasn’t certain whether she was mad or not. “So, you’re okay?”

  “Look, if I’d had a beer, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to take.” She shoved him away, but playfully. “Brush your teeth and then you can come kiss me.”

  Zach nuzzled his mouth into her neck. “Maybe I just kiss you here.” He slid down her breastbone. “Or here.”

  “Zach!”

  “Oh, all right.” He tickled her with his chin under her collar bone. She slapped him with her book. He retreated to the bathroom, vigorously brushing his teeth, and gargling quickly with mouthwash.

  Top of the world.

  Chapter Twelve

  MANNIE OPENED THE DOOR TO THE garage with his annoyed daughter behind him.

  “Dad!”

  He stopped and turned to face her at the bottom of the steps. She glared at him. “You’re going out of town?”

  Mannie heard the accusation clear as day. “It’s for work. Pretty boring really.”

  “Take this.” She handed him a cell-phone and glanced around before speaking softly. “All our numbers are already in there. It runs on the secondary network. Don’t call me with the other one.”

  He put his hand on his daughter's arm. “Why all the espionage?” Mannie whispered back.

  “Well, it sounds paranoid, but someone is keeping us from getting information from outside of Utah. They may be listening in on the phone lines, and I don’t like being spied on.”

  Mannie took a deep breath. It made sense. When the shit hits the fan, you want to control the information coming in. One wrong story makes it through and the whole place falls apart in panic. He wished Lizzie hadn’t found out. It was tough enough keeping her in Provo for the time being.

  Mannie waved at Lizzie as he climbed into Rubi, his Jeep Rubicon.

  Lizzie’s mouth formed a pout and she spun on her heel and slammed the door.

  Mannie sighed, slid the key in and twisted it. The engine coughed and sputtered, but started. He patted the dashboard gently. “Thanks, old girl. You wanna go for a ride?” He felt his mood rising. How long had it been since he was alone behind the wheel, heading out on the road? Months. He really did understand Lizzie’s desire to get away.

  Mannie was on a personal mission to check out the Dugway Proving Ground, something he’d been meaning to do since before he found Provo. Dugway was a center for the military study of biological weapons. It wasn’t a place to leave for scavengers, and he’d made a promise to the U.S. soldiers in San Antonio to find out what happened there. A promise he’d bought his life with when he was infected with rabies.

  The engine smoothed out to a soft rumble, and Mannie hit the garage door opener, amused at the suburbaness of the activity.

  He backed Rubi out and whipped a u-turn, heading for the edge of town. His heart raced. Now that Doctor Wright had given him the all-clear, he needed to exercise and get in shape. He ought to find a pool and start swimming laps again.

  The months of enforced rest, interrupted only by physical therapy for the muscles effected by the gunshot wound, had taken their toll and he felt like an old man. His drinking probably wasn’t helping. Maybe it was time to get back on the program—would someone in town be his sponsor? Of course, many of the citizens were teetotaling LDS members, he needed someone who had been through the same shit.

  Despite his personal mission, his official job today was to recon the Camp Williams Data Center site, and surroundings, in terms of military exposure. DiSilvio wanted to make sure that it could be kept safe from Utah Independents—or so he said. He planned to post observers nearby to keep the place safe, but he had forbidden direct contact. It didn’t feel right to Mannie, but he didn’t see what ha
rm it did to play along.

  Besides, it gave him a great opportunity to get out of the city and check out Dugway.

  He slowed at the Guardhouse on Center and they waved him through. He hit the on-ramp to I-15, the Veteran’s Memorial Highway, humming “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.”

  In about ten minutes he passed the Lehi Main St. exit that would take him to Dugway. He glanced in the rear view mirror. Paranoia was something he shared with his daughter. But that had probably kept them both alive. Was it paranoia when you knew something was wrong without being able to figure it out, or just a sixth sense? Whatever it was, he felt it today. How close are DiSilvio’s tabs on me?

  He was happy the election had gone to Mr. Ray, and DiSilvio was back to number two.

  Mannie tried to simply enjoy the snow on the ground and the crisp clear blue sky. There were no signs announcing Camp Williams or the U.S. Data Center. No Restricted Access. Mannie wondered idly if they’d taken the signs down or if signs had never been put up. Hadn’t been hard to find out about the place on the internet. So you either had to be a techno-terrorist or know where you were going. He skipped the innocuous 1200 West Exit. He’d go past and come back, easier to get close without being visible.

  He topped the high point of the pass and realized he was close to the site of the skirmish between the Utah Independents and the Collectors. It was the first time he’d seen his daughter in almost fifteen years. He pulled off the freeway and onto a road that rolled up a hill, thinking he might be able to see the Data Center from there. Besides, taking the driving in short bursts would be better on his knee.

  Mannie pulled on his Ranger hat and a black down jacket. The day looked cold and this was the highest point of elevation around. He loosed the binoculars from their case and stepped out into the chill. He slogged through the foot deep snow to the highest point he could see, turning from time to time to check out the view.