“So you went east and happened upon the farm? Zee glossed over that last night. It was really just a stroke of luck?”
“Yep, just fortunate. We found it about mid-day and decided to stay for the night. It seemed secure and it was pretty far away from anything else, from the direction we came at least. That day went smoothly, and so did the next, and the next, and then we just never left.”
“And Rosaline just randomly found you all?”
“Kind of. Rad, Sweetie, and Outlaw went out to get firewood, and wood to make new sitting stumps with. They had to go out pretty far to find wood that wasn’t still wet, so it would chop properly and burn that night. She and Mikey followed them back to the farm.”
He hesitates for a moment, then chuckles.
“They didn’t even know she was there, and they had to walk a long way back to the farm. Rad’s really attentive, and even he had no clue.”
A sense of delight rises within KP, hearing this young man talk. His naivety is endearing, even more so that he doesn’t realize how naive he is. She’s more than a little surprised they’ve managed to survive on their own this long.
“She smart, Rosaline, ruthless too.” KP says.
“She is. We were a bit hesitant about her staying with us. Not at first. At first it was great, actually, she was a huge help, and Mikey is the sweetest kid, but after we saw how she changed when she killed those infected, it was-it was jarring, to say the least.”
“I’ve only just met you all, but I’m a pretty good judge of character. I’ve had a lot of experiences with a lot of different people. Rosaline is a rare breed. She’s cunning, brave, protective, and she cares, while still ruthless and capable when called for. That’s special, you guys are lucky to have her with you.”
Hawaii’s lips curve up, taking pride in hearing the nice words for someone he has come to care about. KP and Hawaii continue to engage, eventually Zee joins the conversation, and the three talk until it’s time to make camp for the night. Rosaline and KP bump heads, though rather briefly, about where to stay for the night. Rosaline, still being unable to shed her fear of low ground out in the open, is adamant they find actual shelter, or a high vantage point.
KP appreciates the determination the young woman displays. While some could find it off-putting, and even an annoyance, she recognizes the importance that quality holds in this new world. She suspects Rosaline will be a great addition to Oasis. Her iron will and stubborn nature are tailor made for being a Guide, but when considering the child and lover added to the mix, she doubts that will be the capable woman’s future.
KP had been leading them to an area she spent the night during her trek to their farm, though she wasn’t aware that’s what her destination would be. Unfortunately with the added personnel her pace has been slowed by about two hours. She wanted to get to the lake, which features a high rise that drops off into the water, a suitable place to set up camp, given that in the event of an ambush the lake below would serve as a fine escape route--by jumping off the side of the ridge.
She informed the group of this, and they decided to continue on in the night to get to this area. Rad was unnerved by this and took it upon himself to give extra attention to KP. He really didn’t want to trek through the woods at night, but nevertheless they did. To his relief it worked out fine, and they arrived to the area she had described without issue.
They wasted no time in setting up camp. KP suggested four hour watch shifts, needing only two rotations on this first night, becoming three every night that would follow. Her reasoning was that it would give four of them a break each night, allowing for a full slumber, and these breaks would rotate so that every other day a good nights rest could be had. Mikey, of course, would not have to participate.
Rosaline and Sweetie would not have to serve a watch duty this first night. The young boy was asleep minutes after laying his head down, leaving the two lovers to enjoy some alone time.
“Do you think everyone has their own house in Oasis?” the Latina ponders aloud, her hand stroking the hair of her partner.
“I don’t know. We should ask KP tomorrow.”
“That would be nice. Just you, me, and Mikey in our own house.”
“What about Outlaw?”
“That chacho can bunk up with Rad again.” she replies, giggling. “What kind of job do you want?”
“I-I don’t know. I’ve never thought about that. Do you know what you want?”
“I don’t even know what options there could be. Like is it cooking, cleaning, hunting? Is it just like the farm, but way more people?”
“I’m not sure baby.”
Rosaline tenderly runs her finger along her companion’s cheek and jawline.
“What would make you happy?”
“Being with you nena.”
The short warrior scooches closer to her partner and softly kisses her. They wrap their arms around each other. Rosaline rests her head on the Latina's chest. After a long moment she looks up at her lover, a gentle calm flowing in her gaze.
"I love you."
Sweetie's lip quivers, her eyes dampen. She leans down into Rosaline kissing her, tenderly at first, then squeezing her closer as passion overcomes them.
"I love you too nena."
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
“Just run Patrick, run! Don’t look back! Run!”
He does what Norman says. He takes the doctor’s orders to heart in full. The two frantic survivors run, their legs thrust forward with purpose, their muscles tense and burn, their joints ache, but their minds focus on only one thought, live, and so they run. They ignore all their spasms, all of their pain, their soreness, their exhaustion, and their fear. They run.
They gallop for over an hour, at the height of their abilities. It is only upon the sudden turning of his stomach that Norman slows, and reigns in Patrick’s mad dash.
“Oh damnit! Damnit! No, no, I should’ve, I-I didn’t think about...”
The doctor’s thought trails. He places the cooler on the ground, throws his backpack from his shoulders, then hastily removes his jacket. His first layer of upper clothing, a short sleeved shirt, is removed just as fast. His brow furrowed, and his lips dry and cracked, he incoherently mumbles to himself. The frightened teen stares at the raving man.
“We have to leave a trail. They’ll never find us if we don’t leave a trail.”
The doctor stammers, his words eject from his mouth, as though uttering them is fixing his mistake.
“I should’ve started this sooner, it’s been too long. I hope, I hope it’s not, it-it can’t be. It can’t be.”
Norman unzips the main compartment of his backpack and retrieves a large pair of scissors, much longer than anyone should ever need. He cuts a patch of cloth from the bottom of the dark blue, faded shirt he had been wearing. He cuts a hole in the middle of the detached piece of cloth, then hangs it on a branch, pushing it along the branch, so it wont fall or be blown off by the wind.
“We need to do this every half hour. Don’t let me forget.”
Norman moves closer to Patrick, his eyes piecing through the teenager.
“Okay?! Don’t let me forget! We can’t forget, we can’t.”
The slender boy grips his own arm, tilting his head down, his eyes racing back and forth.
“Oh, Patrick, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just, it’s very important that we do this. They wont be able to find us, we have to help them. We’re leaving them, but we’re not abandoning them. Jack’s blood is too important, we can’t put it at risk. I didn’t want to leave Daisy, I know you didn’t either, but we had no choice. Karo can take care of himself, but-but he is one of us now too and-”
Norman reaches out to the startled boy, but Patrick pulls away.
“Hey, hey, I’m sorry that I scared you. I was upset with myself that I didn’t think about this earlier. Everything is going to be alright. We’re going to leave a trail for them to follow, they’ll find us. It’s going to be alright.”
; Norman isn’t sure if he’s reassuring Patrick or himself, maybe both. He has to believe the words he’s saying, otherwise they just left Karo and Daisy to die. If they kill the infected, but can’t find himself and Patrick, what reason was there for them to stay behind? “No, this will work” he thinks to himself, “It has to.”
Norman stops for a few minutes every half hour, or what he gauges to be about every half hour, leaves behind a piece of cloth on a tree and checks the map. He continues this process for about five hours, until dusk has begun to set it. The two disheveled wanders search for a suitable place to make camp for the night, but Norman isn’t accustomed to doing this. Jack would always find their resting points, and once Karo came along that became his undertaking.
Patrick isn’t much help in the camp-site department either. The boy meekly follows Norman, not speaking, or reacting to the worried man’s soft conversation to himself. Somewhere around twenty minutes after night has fully set in Norman is at a loss. He hasn’t found anywhere appropriate for them to wait until the morning comes.
Their surroundings aren’t very helpful in his pursuit of a safe place to recharge. They’re in the middle of a forest, large trees, and thick bushes are all that surround them. Finally, Norman accepts the thought he’d been having, but didn’t want to give in to.
“Alright Patrick, I don’t like this, and I know you wont either, but we can’t keep aimlessly wandering about like this. We’re going to rip up some shrubs, climb into that thick bush over there, and hide out for the night.”
The night passes as the duo lay uncomfortably, shrouded by bushes, sticks poking into their backs, and rocks creating sore spots on their body. Norman slipped in and out of sleep for hours, until the breaking dawn neared. His mind groggy, his body throbbing, he arose as soon as the darkness was splashed with the first hint of light.
Their trek resumed, and Norman continued to stop and leave behind pieces of cloth, checking the map each time to ensure their course is correct. Early dawn gave way to a bright morning, then a clouded afternoon. Norman rambles to himself, unable to keep his thoughts pent up, and every so often includes Patrick in his one sided conversation--his attempt to let the boy know he isn’t alone
“Jack and I would go on hikes every now and then. He loved taking them in the fall, just as the leaves were starting to turn and the weather was enough to require a jacket. He never really could explain why that was his favorite time of year, but it was.”
He’s gaze searches the forest, finding the ground after a moment. A light chuckle escapes him through his curved lips.
“He was a good man, wholesome and kind. It’s a wonder he was able to survive this new world as long as he did. I know I never would have if it weren’t for him.”
A tear dribbles down his cheek. His hand wipes it away. He glances over his shoulder to Patrick, the boy lagging just slightly behind him and a bit off to the side.
“Jack wasn’t the first person I loved, you know. I was in love before Jack, a few times, but he is the person whose face I see when I think of love. He was, I’ll never be able to let him go. I’ll always see his face when I close my eyes. I think, I think that’s okay. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to not think of him every day. I don’t want things to stop reminding me of him. He made me want to be a better person. He was, he is, a big part of my life. I don’t ever want to forget that.”
Norman’s head tilts up to the sky, scanning over the clouds. His hand extends from his forehead, offering a small shade.
“We all lose people, that’s just part of life. It’s the worst part, but we all experience it. It’s something that connects us, keeps us bound together. We never want to go through it, we ne-”
Norman’s thought is interrupted by Patrick heavily bumping into him, and brushing off his backside at an odd angle. He turns to his side to investigate, the boy yelps, and Norman freezes--they’re not alone. Lost in his thoughts Norman’s defenses lowered. He’d stopped listening to the forest, he didn’t notice the rustling of branches, nor the new scent permeating through the air.
Patrick flails, he grunts and moans. A dry, gurgled scream of anguish sprints from him, his voice breaking halfway through it. The infected is old and tattered, short and thick. It’s body lay flat on the ground, on top of Patrick, its head thrashing around. Patrick’s hands are gripped on the shoulders of the monster, holding it at arm’s length.
The boy jerks and turns his head, shutting his eyes and keeping his mouth closed. His facial muscles tensing from the exerted force, as the filthy saliva from the creature oozes out of its mouth and drips down onto the boy’s face.
Norman’s panic intensifies, his body rigid, his mind blank. He watches as the terrified teen fights for his life, and he doesn’t know what to do. The fear and panic last only a moment, before turning to anger and disdain at the beast wrestling with Patrick. This thing took his husband from him.
Norman drops the cooler, whips his backpack to his front, and takes the scissors out. He reaches down and grabs the slimy and dirty hair of the infected. He pulls its head back with all his might, aims the scissors at its eye, then stabs down. A huff of rage bellows from the heart broken surgeon. He clamps down on the scissors, shifting his weight up, and forces the crude weapon into the skull of the diseased.
Its arms limp, and its muted snarl ceases. Norman pushes it to the side, away from Patrick. Patrick scrambles to his knees, feverishly rubbing his jacket over his face. Norman knows immediately why he’s doing this.
“Patrick, hold on, stop, stop. Let me, we need to wash your face off. Just wiping it might not be enough.”
Norman takes the designated drinking canteen from his backpack. He tilts the boy’s head back and gingerly pours water over his face, while he wipes down and to the side with the sleeve of his jacket.
The flow of water on his face stops, and he pulls away from Norman, throwing himself back to the ground. His knees come up to his chest, he clutches them tightly, and buries his face into them. His body heaves, his breathing escalates.
“Patrick, no, please, we’re okay now, we’re okay.”
Norman drops to his knees, moving closer to Patrick.
“This was my fault, I’m sorry. I should’ve heard it coming, I wasn’t paying attention. We can’t stay here. We have to keep moving.”
The boy turns his face away, pressing himself together even tighter.
“This was scary, I know. The whole world is scary now, and it seems like bad things just don’t stop happening, but we can’t give up. If we give up, we lose, humanity loses. I know you feel like you’ve lost everything, and I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong. I feel the same way.”
He places his hand on the boy’s shoulder, but it’s shaken off.
“I know you are going through a lot, and at times it seems like there’s nothing you can do to stop the darkness from closing in on you.”
His lip quivers, his eyes dampen.
“I don’t suffer from depression or PTSD. I don’t know what that’s like. I know it’s very difficult. I know it makes life seem pointless. I’m not saying you can fight it or change it, but I am saying I will do anything I can to help you however you need or want to be helped. I want to do that, I want to help you, because I love you. You might not feel loved, but you are. You might not feel needed, but you are. I need you, Daisy needs you, Karo needs you. We’re not going through the same thing that you are, but you’re not alone. I’m here for you, we’re here for you.”
Norman wipes his eyes, inhaling crisply. He places his hand on Patrick again, the boy shivers, but he doesn’t shake him away.
“We have to keep moving. If you don’t think you can move, I can carry you, because I’m not leaving you behind. Your life is worth something.”
Norman takes a deep breath, composing himself. He wipes the scissors off on the ground, then cuts another piece of cloth from the shirt, and hangs it from the tree next to the motionless infected. He rises to his feet, and r
eequips his backpack. He turns back to Patrick, the doctor's eyes gloss again, and his lips curl--the boy is sitting up.
“Do you want me to help you?”
The boy nods, tears streaming down his flushed face. Norman bends down, hooks Patrick’s arm around his neck, and helps the boy to his feet. He grabs the cooler, and they continue. Another two stops later and Norman hears the faint, yet specific, sound of flowing water.
With Patrick in tow, still draped around him, they hurry toward the comforting sound of water. They reach a small creek. It continues as far as they can see to the southeast and isn’t very wide. On the opposite bank resides a small spring house. Norman’s eyes sparkle, and he laughs with glee.
“Patrick! Look!” he says, pointing at the wondrous structure.
The boy’s brow raises, and Norman’s sure he sees the hint of a smile on the teen’s face. They cross the shallow creek, the water barely reaching above their knees. Once across, Norman notices that the spring house is on the edge of a property. Behind it are a weathered house, that looks to be on the brink of collapsing, and a barn that looks to be in decent condition.
He ponders staying in the barn, but decides against it, figuring that staying closer to the creek is better, in case Daisy and Karo pass the spring house, they should be able to hear them.
“We can wait in there for Daisy and Karo. It looks big enough for both of us. The water here is cold, we can keep the blood cooled. We’ll stay for two days...”
He frowns, looking down at the water.
“But any longer than that, we just can’t. We’ll have to continue on.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
The lumbering stoic man peers over his shoulder to see that Outlaw is once again lagging behind the group. The teenage boy removes his dingy gray baseball cap and wipes his forehead with his arm. Rad slows his pace to fall behind with Outlaw.
“You alright man?”
A World Fallen Page 24