Born In The Apocalypse

by Joseph Talluto

  “Move your ass! They’re right behind you!”

  I didn’t bother to look, mostly because I didn’t want to. If I looked, I would freeze. If I froze, I was dead. I threw myself at the opening as Trey held it, wiggling as fast as I could between this legs.

  “Hurry, hurry, JESUS!” Trey fell back as the doors began to close. Dark hands slammed into the doors, opening them slightly again, just enough for a Tripper hand to slip through and grasp my pant leg.

  “TREY! It’s got my leg!” I shrieked, trying to crawl away from the nasty hand that gripped my pants. My efforts pulled the arm of the Tripper through the opening, and the infected person raised its dark eyes to me and hissed loudly.

  Trey grabbed me by my armpits and tried to move me backwards, but the Tripper held on. It started to pull me back, and the other two Trippers were pushing on the door now, too, adding their snarls and snaps to the jingling sound of the straining chains.

  Trey held on to me but tried to reach his crossbow at the same time. It was two feet out of reach, and useless as a daisy at the moment.

  “Rush the door on this side!” I yelled in a moment of desperate inspiration.

  “What? Are you nuts?” Trey asked.

  “Just do it!” I yelled.

  Trey let go, and immediately I could feel myself being dragged back to the building. If I came within biting range, it was all over.

  “Hurry!”

  Trey took a step back, then launched himself at the door, colliding with it and knocking back one of the Trippers. The one on the ground, the one that had me, looked up and tried to reach through the glass to get at Trey.

  “Again! I think she loosened her grip!” I yelled, as I tried to find something to hold on to as the Tripper dragged me closer and closer.

  Trey stepped further back and flew at the metal part of the door, slamming into it with all of his strength. The Tripper holding me suddenly released her grip, having had her arm broken in the door frame. She never winced, she just stood up slowly and joined her brother and sister in staring out the window at the two of us.

  They pushed on the doors, so the opening was still there, and we could easily kill all three if we had to. I retrieved my bow when Trey stopped me.

  “This just is not our day.” He pointed to the east, and I nearly just ran away.

  A lone Tripper was barreling down at us, and would be on top of us if Trey hadn’t pointed it out,

  I didn’t even aim, I just brought my bow up and fired. The arrow punched into the Tripper’s chest, and he slowed down to look at the stick coming out of his chest. He looked up at us with his glazed eyes, and tried to run again, but he slowed and fell to his knees. I had another arrow nocked and ready, and Trey was aiming his crossbow at the man, but even he hesitated.

  The Tripper grabbed feebly at the arrow, but his face contorted, and he seemed to shrink in on himself as he fell to the side. He closed his eyes and he just lay there. After a minute, he slowly relaxed and straightened slightly.

  “What the hell?” Trey asked out loud.

  I was thinking the same thing. You weren’t supposed to be able to stop them by shooting them in the chest. At least, none of the ones I’ve seen my father shoot like that ever did. Weird.

  “Do you think it’s really dead?” I asked, moving forward cautiously.

  Trey shrugged. “Never knew one to stop coming once it saw something it wanted to kill.”

  “Is it dead or did I trigger a sleep?” I was genuinely curious, because I had never seen such a thing before.

  “Feel free to give it a poke,” Trey said. “I’ll cover you.”

  I shrugged and reached out with my bow. I tapped it on the arm and then the head. I finally poked it in the eye, and none of that provoked any kind of response.

  “Guess it’s dead,” I said. “Definitely need to tell dad about this one.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Trey said.

  “Fine, but just to be clear, this was your idea.”

  “Thanks.”

  Chapter 10

  We went back to the road we had been following and walked past a small park area. My dad told me in the old days, families would come out here and sit and have lunch. They would let their kids run through the park and have a good time. When the Trippers came, that ended pretty quick. Now the equipment was rusted and falling apart. The wooden towers were home to birds and animals and would probably fall over in the next wind storm.

  About a mile later, we left the road and headed into the woods. There was a good sized forest here about twice the size of the one we got most of our game in. This one promised to have larger game like deer. Trey and I spread out, stepping through the underbrush and trying not to break any twigs or branches.

  I kept my bow low with my right arm across my chest. I could bring up the bow and fire in a split second, having been taught that by my father. My aiming was more instinctual than actual, as Dad called it. I had no real idea what he was talking about, all I knew was the arrows went where I wanted them to, or pretty close to it.

  A low whistle reached my ears, and I looked over at Trey to see him wave a hand forward. I looked and saw a decent sized doe making her way slowly through the trees. She hadn’t winded us yet, so we waited silently. If her path stayed true, she would pass within ten feet of Trey. If her path stayed true, and Trey released his arrow at the right time, I was in danger of being on the receiving end if he missed.

  Great. I signaled to Trey for him to take the doe, and I carefully slipped back around a tree, positioning it between myself and Trey. I brought my bow up slowly and waited, not pulling back on the string just yet.

  I could hear the doe moving through the leaves, and I knew Trey was waiting for the best shot which was when she just began to walk away from him. A crossbow wasn’t the worst thing to kill a deer with, but Trey had proven to be a rotten shot with a longbow.

  I heard a slap, like someone had hit themselves in the leg, and suddenly the forest was full of sound as the doe jumped forward. I stepped out with my bow at full draw, and let fly as the animal leapt past. A second slap and the doe stumbled, running forward another twenty yards before falling to the ground.

  Trey and I moved forward slowly, not letting the deer see us. We didn’t want her to get up and run off, further away this time. That was another thing Dad had taught me. Never work harder than you have to when it comes to hunting.

  After a minute the doe was still, and another minute later she was dead. Trey and I moved up and inspected our kill.

  “Nice shot,” I said, noting his bolt was deep in the deer’s chest.

  “Yours, too.” Trey pointed at my arrow which was sticking out of the deer’s neck, right underneath the jaw.

  “Well, let’s get to it. Right side or left?” I said, drawing my knife.

  “Left,” Trey said, plunging his knife into the deer’s haunch.

  “All yours.”

  Half an hour later we were trudging back home, each of us lugging a leg of deer over our shoulder. It was awkward as hell, but we managed it. We didn’t say anything as we went past the old school, and we could see the three Trippers we had left there still at the door, still pushing on the chain. I made a mental note to tell my father about them before any other fool kid wandered into the school.

  When I got home, my Dad was already there, so I figured there wasn’t any time like now to spread the news.

  “Hey, son. Nice bit of meat you have there. Did Trey get some?” Dad asked.

  “He got the left side. Dad?” I hesitated.

  My father looked at me and put down the comb he was using on his horse Judy. “What is it?”

  “Trey and I went into the old school up the way” I said quietly.

  My father’s eyes narrowed slightly. But he stayed silent and let me speak.

  “We didn’t find anything of value, but we woke up three Trippers. One of them almost got me.” I told him about our trip and narrow escape, and the one we killed out in the s
chool grounds. Dad’s eyes got wider at that part.

  “Wait. Back up. What happened to the Tripper in the yard?” he asked.

  “I shot it in the chest, and it died,” I said, telling him how the man had curled up and stopped moving.

  “Interesting.” Dad was silent for a moment. “I wonder if that explains…” He wandered off for a second before focusing back on me. “Well, that makes three. The two by the dam, and the one by the school.”

  “Four,” I said, looking down again.

  “What?”

  “Trey and I killed another before we headed out. It’s over by the Simpsons. Probably another by their house as well.”

  “Jesus Christ. All right, that does it. Five in four days is way over the limit. You are confined to the house and yard until I sort this out. I’m going to talk to Trey’s dad and get Trey’s story from him.”

  “How long?” I asked, contemplating a whole lot of school and chores.

  “Until I say different, Joshua. You’ve handled yourself better than I could have ever hoped for. But what would you have done had you gotten bit? You’re a big boy, but Trippers are adults fueled by fear and rage. You can’t fight one off, and I realize I should have started your other training years ago,” Dad said kindly. “I’m not mad at you, but you’re my only child, and every day I’m scared to death something will happen to you when I’m not there. You’re a better woodsman than I am, but you can’t fight Trippers. Not by yourself.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” I asked, not sure where this was going.

  “Help your mom, make more arrows, and jerk that venison,” Dad said, picking up his gun and heading out the door to go make Trey’s life as miserable as mine.

  Great. Just great. I had only one thing to say to all this.

  “Shit.”

  Chapter 11

  “Maybe it’s time we faced the truth that we aren’t safe here.”

  “What truth is that? Every major community was overrun by the Trippers. The only way we survived, the way anyone survived, was hunkering down and taking care of their own.”

  “Your son has been attacked three times, and you think we’re safe? He should never leave the yard.”

  “That’s crazy. How the hell is he supposed to learn any skills if he’s stuck here?”

  My parents had been arguing for two days, and I was getting an earful. My mom wanted us to pack up and go to a community with more than just a handful of homes hanging on to a hand-to-mouth existence. My dad was holding out, saying he had a responsibility to the people who were out on the fringe like we were. All I knew was I didn’t want to leave my home; not for anything. But for the moment, I was stuck here, listening to the same argument over and over again.

  Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize the conversation had ended, and my mother was standing in my doorway.

  “Time for school, Josh,” Mom said, looking out the window while she spoke. My windows faced the front of the house, and I could see all the way over to Trey’s house. Mom was looking to see if Trey was going to come over, but I knew he wasn’t. He was as quarantined as I was after our little trip to the old school. When Trey’s dad found out it was Trey’s idea that nearly got us killed, I hadn’t seen him since.

  I swung my feet off my bed, knocking over a couple of arrows I had at the edge. Since I had nothing else to do, I was making arrows. I used pheasant feathers for fletching and cedar for the shafts. They worked, but it took some time. I had made three dozen and was waiting for the chance to go back to the woods and get more supplies.

  I went downstairs and made my way into the back room. Mom had converted it into a small classroom complete with bulletin boards and bookshelves. She was writing on the chalkboard when I got there, and I took a second to get a look at her. She was a small woman with brown hair and brown eyes. She looked tired today, and if I remembered right, she looked tired a lot. Dad said Mom had a lot of memories, and they worked together to bring her down from time to time.

  Mom used to leave the house a lot, but lately all she’s done is go to the garden or weed her flowerbeds.

  I worried about her because she seemed too fragile, like the smallest thing could make her break. Dad said she was stronger than she looked, and I hoped so.

  School was about four hours, and it was time for lunch when we finished. I learned about the Fertile Crescent and ancient Sumer. I liked history the best. It was fun to learn about where we came from. Sometimes I wondered what historians might make of this little episode in mankind’s history.

  Dad came home early and had lunch with us, which was a nice treat. Even Mom seemed to brighten a little when she saw Dad was home early. After lunch, I went outside to practice with my arrows, and was putting most of them in a good group across the yard when Dad came out to see what I was up to.

  “Nice work, Josh,” Dad said when he saw my target. “Why are you practicing at targets that are so far away?”

  I shrugged. “I figured if I could hit a small circle at fifty yards, then anything closer was just that much easier.”

  Dad nodded slowly as he digested that. “Good thinking.” He surprised me with his next sentence. “I think it’s time you learned to defend yourself.”

  I didn’t know what else to say but “Okay!” I was kind of excited to be learning a few moves to defend myself, but I was a little curious about what my dad could teach me. I never suspected that he knew anything other than how to shoot people.

  We went out to the yard, and I was always curious as to what it might have looked like before the infection hit. Our yard was big with many tall trees. Dad worked hard to keep the yard looking neat and trimmed, and we had a push mower to cut the grass. The bushes around the house were trimmed to about head high (to me), and there was a shed in the back where the horse feed was kept. A tall rock fence surrounded the yard, and it cut off the rest of the world. Dad built that fence after the first wave of infected hit the area, and it’s saved us a couple of times since.

  “Okay. Let’s see what you think you know,” Dad said. “Pretend I’m a Tripper coming to get you.” Dad put up his hands and started moving towards me.

  I didn’t know what else to do, so I ran away and hid behind a tree. I didn’t hear him coming, so I peeked out to see where he was. That’s when a big hand grabbed me and pulled me from my tree. I yelped as I got pulled in, and gasped when I got thrown to the ground. I figured the lesson was there, but I squawked in surprise when my dad started to pound me with his fists.

  “Ow! What the…? Dad!” I curled up into a ball, covering my neck with my hands.

  The pounding stopped. “You’re dead, son. First lesson. Never stop moving, and never stop fighting.” Dad stood up and helped me to my feet.

  I rubbed my back and sides where he had hit me. I was more surprised than hurt. “What do I fight with?”

  Dad smiled. “Your head.”

  “Huh?”

  “Use your head to win a fight. Outthink your enemy. Use what you have. You’re not going to win a fight with a bigger person or Tripper unless you think.” Dad motioned me over to the open area. “Let’s try again. And if you just curl up and fall down again, I’ll hit you harder until you learn.”

  Let me tell you, that was a lesson I learned right then and there. We stepped out into the open, and Dad came at me again. This time I ran over to the line of bushes that separated the side yard from the back yard. I slipped underneath the branches between two of them, sliding out the other side. I could hear my dad approaching, and I ducked down, running along the bushes towards the back wall. I knew the bushes thinned out back there, and as I ran I made a plan.

  Reaching the end, I moved back to the back yard, and I saw my dad trying to get through the bushes. I ran wide to stay out of his peripheral vision and came up behind him. He was about a third of the way through the bushes, growling and cursing. I threw myself at his back, shoving him deeper into the shrubbery and getting a startled “Whoa!” for my efforts.

 
I moved away and ran over to the house, sitting down on the back porch. I waited for my dad to pull himself out of the branches that seemed to grab him at every move.

  Finally, he got out and walked over to where I sat. I smiled innocently, trying hard not to laugh at the leaf covered giant headed my way.

  Dad looked at me for a long time. I looked back, knowing he was trying to figure out what to do with me.

  Suddenly, we heard a noise. It was a strange choking sound, like someone was trying to breathe but just couldn’t. Dad cocked his head and then went to look in the kitchen window.

  “Great. I’ll never hear the end of it now,” he said, heading back off the porch and into the yard.

  I went over to the window and looked in. On the floor, my mother was convulsed in laughter, holding her sides and rolling around. I stared for a minute since I had never seen her laugh so hard. It was a good thing to see.

  “Josh! Over here! We’re not done,” Dad called.

  I left the window, and I felt pretty good knowing I had made my mother laugh. It was at my dad’s expense, but it felt good, nonetheless.

  Chapter 12

  We worked for another hour and called it quits after that. I had several bruises and a skinned knee, and dad had a bruised chin from an elbow I got in through his defense. It was an accident, but I think he was secretly proud of me for taking to his instruction as well as I had. He taught me holds and strikes and ways to leverage a larger opponent. Always he stressed thinking, outsmarting, planning.

  After another two days at home, my mother finally conceded it was time to let me go out and hunt again. We were running low on meat, and the deer haunch only lasted so long. My trap lines hadn’t been checked in a week, and I worried that anything caught wouldn’t be fit to eat.

  Workouts with my dad became routine, and every day we worked on fighting and evading. After a month, we worked with weapons. We used only knives for the most part, since that was all we had. There was a hatchet for the kindling, but Dad said to leave it.