by Dan McMartin
“We should go,” he said.
“Yeah,” Anna agreed. They returned to the car and climbed inside after Pete reloaded the shotgun. Anna refused to look back at the woman and her attackers. She knew somewhere inside that Pete had spared the woman a painful, lingering death and maybe worse. She didn’t like it, but this was the way things were. The way they would be. She had to accept it. Anna didn’t hold it against Pete. He did what had to be done.
They drove on down the highway. For Anna’s part, she was eager to get to this cabin Pete spoke of, hoping it was secluded and quiet so they could both take some time to process what was happening to the world around them. They passed through the small town of Susanville and found it much like Reno but on a smaller scale. Scattered abandoned and wrecked cars, the odd zombie shambling about but no people. It was a ghost town.
They didn’t stop. Pete explained they had enough gear, food, water and gas to last a while and that Mike’s cabin was fully stocked as well. It was another half hour or so before they left the highway and turned down the road indicated on Pete’s map. Anna breathed a sigh of relief. There weren’t many reminders of the...apocalypse here. The odd cabin viewed through the trees was the only sign of civilization and those appeared empty. It was early April and most of the cabins were still closed up for the winter.
After ten minutes and a few missed turns on gravel or dirt roads, Pete pointed ahead. “There it is,” he said. He pointed to a sign that read Boggs. “Mike Boggs,” Pete said quietly as they turned down the drive that led through the dense trees to our destination. What they found, wasn’t what Anna had hoped.
The cabin was open and a small pickup was parked outside. Mike pulled up to it and shut off the car. “I hope you know how to use that pistol,” he said. Anna nodded. “Keep it close but don’t look threatening. Could be a neighbor or a friend,” Pete advised.
“Yeah, okay,” she replied. Anna grabbed her backpack and slung it over one shoulder as she climbed out of the car. She made sure the pocket that held her gun was open and accessible. Mike grabbed his shotgun but carried it casually at his side. As they approached the cabin, a man with an armful of supplies appeared out of the open door. He was young but looked haggard, dirty jeans, old sneakers, a green down vest and an orange knit cap. He looked like a meth addict.
“What the hell do you want?” he asked as he dropped the box into the back of his pickup and his hand went for the pocket of his vest.
“Easy, buddy,” Pete told him. “This cabin belongs to a friend.”
“Yeah, a friend of mine,” the dirty man said.
“You know the owner?” Pete asked. The man was focused on Pete and his shotgun, not the small Asian girl with the backpack. Anna stood by and watched, trying to disappear into the background, to look as unthreatening as she could.
“Of course, I do. Boggs, he’s a good guy,” the man said, obviously lying.
“Yeah, ol’ Larry Boggs is a good friend,” Pete said. Anna knew he was testing the man.
“Yeah, right. Good ol’ Larry,” the meth head replied. “Well, he said I could have his stuff. So I think you should leave. Not enough here for all of us. Unless that sexy thing wants a daddy,” the man added and then looked at Anna. She felt her skin crawl.
“Sorry, she’s with me...and the owner’s name is Mike, dipshit,” Pete said. The man didn’t hesitate, obviously used to this kind of situation. He pulled his revolver and pointed it at Pete.
“Look, asshole. Finder’s keepers. I don’t care if this is your mama’s cabin. It’s mine now,” he warned and came around his pickup towards Pete. “Drop it,” the man said, pointing with the stubby barrel of his revolver at Pete’s shotgun. Pete hesitated but the man pulled the hammer back for effect. Anna knew he didn’t need to. She had the same model in her backpack. It was a double action. Pete dropped the shotgun and began to back up warily. He glanced at Anna as she watched.
“You know what? Take my truck. I’ll keep your Jeep and the girl. You can fuck off for all I care. If you don’t like it, then I’ll shoot you dead,” the man warned. Pete glanced at Anna again but she was already moving, slowly and quietly while the addict’s attention was on Pete. Pete turned, causing the man to expose his back to Anna. She slid the backpack off and pulled her gun out. Before the man knew what she was doing, Anna had closed the distance and put the barrel of her revolver behind his ear.
“That isn’t going to happen, scumbag,” she said. The addict laughed but Anna pulled back the hammer on her revolver for effect. “A piece of trash just like you killed my parents. I won’t hesitate to waste you right here and now. Drop it,” she said. Losing your parents to a street thug put the world in perspective. Nothing was guaranteed. Someone was always looking to take what wasn’t theirs. The police couldn’t protect you.
So Anna got a gun and learned how to use it. She’d never pulled it on anyone and wasn’t sure she would ever have to but better to have it and not need it than the other way around. However, the world was different now and her training kicked in. “Do it!” she demanded again, her voice sharper.
“Shit!” the man complained and dropped his gun. Pete picked it up and held it on the man. “Who’d a thunk a sweet, young, slant piece of ass like her could be so dangerous,” he said to Pete. He didn’t know when to shut up. Pete smiled at him and then hit him with a left hook the dirt bag never saw coming. He crumpled to the ground.
“Nice!” Anna said. She felt the adrenaline now but she had kept her fear under control. Just like she was taught to do in such a situation. Stop, think, act.
“You too,” Pete replied. The man was shaking the cobwebs from his head, rubbing his jaw. “Here’s the deal. You start walking and you don’t look back. There’s plenty of nicer trucks to steal than this piece of shit and plenty of other cabins to pillage, I’m sure. But this cabin, it’s off limits. Go find easier pickings,” Pete told him firmly. The man crawled off to the side and got to his feet. He looked at Pete and Anna in turn and then spit at Pete’s boots.
“Fuck you. Hope that slope bitch gives you crabs,” he said and turned to go. He was acting tough but the man understood he was outgunned and outsmarted. Pete was right, there were easier pickings.
“Hey, asshole,” Anna called out to him. He turned. “I’m Asian you ignorant fuck!” she told him. Pete couldn’t help but laugh. The addict sneered but turned to go. They watched as he wandered into the forest and disappeared. “You think he’ll come back?” Anna wondered once the man was out of sight.
“I don’t know but I doubt it. His pride will give way to his survival instincts, I suspect. Plenty of other cabins out there,” Pete replied.
“I hope you’re right,” she said. They went about putting back what the man had tried to steal, all the while keeping out a wary eye. “I’ll move his truck and you can pull your car up to the door,” Anna offered. Pete stopped in his tracks and stared at Anna as if she had said something horribly wrong.
“Car? It’s a Jeep. A kitten dies every time someone calls it a car,” Pete said, trying to look grave. Anna looked at him sideways. “I’m serious,” he said but couldn’t help cracking a smile.
“Sorry, you can move the Jeep up to the door. Is that better?” she asked, emphasizing the proper term, condescending but playful too.
“The kittens thank you,” he told her and winked. Anna rolled her eyes, climbed into the pickup and pulled it out of the way. Pete moved the Jeep up to the front door and opened the back. The cabin wasn’t much. Two rooms and an outhouse out back, each built out of logs. It was surrounded by big pines and firs. It was quiet too.
Inside, as promised, the cabin was stocked with canned and freeze-dried food, water and supplies including several rifles, handguns and plenty of ammo. The pair unloaded the other stuff from the Jeep and then Pete pulled the Jeep around the back to keep it hidden. He joined Anna inside and they set about sorting through their provisions.
Chapter 5
“You were pretty bad ass out th
ere,” Pete told Anna.
“I guess. I didn’t have a choice,” she replied.
“Well, thanks. So why didn’t you use your gun on...you know,” Pete asked. Anna wasn’t sure what he meant at first.
“Oh, you mean my boss, Morty? I didn’t know what he was doing. I didn’t have a chance anyway. I just ran until I was cornered. The cooler was my only option and honestly, I was freaked the fuck out,” Anna told him.
“I let the loser outside get the best of me. I should have been more aggressive,” he replied. Pete couldn’t help but feel ashamed at being caught off guard like that.
“Don’t be hard on yourself. You saved me from Morty. You took out those two zombies earlier and saved the woman from the same fate. We do what we have to.” Anna told him. Pete was trying hard to forget about the scene back on the side of the highway. He was trying hard to forget about killing that woman. She wasn’t a zombie, not yet. He killed a living human being and it stung. He knew it had to be done but that only provided a small measure of comfort.
“Yeah, maybe. I liked the kiss better,” he ventured trying to lighten the mood. Anna looked up from sorting through Mike’s gear...their gear.
“So did I,” she said. What followed was a long awkward silence. Pete finally found the nerve to break it.
“Anyway, I think we’ll be safe here,” he said to change the subject. Why was it so hard? The zombie fucking apocalypse was upon him and he couldn’t get up the nerve to tell Anna how he felt, that she was pretty, that he was hot for her.
Gloria, Pete’s ex-wife, had done a number on him. Leaving him was bad enough. But when he discovered it was for another woman, it crushed his self-confidence. When he found out after the divorce that Gloria had been sleeping with not just her current girlfriend but several others while they were married...well, it mind fucked Pete. His confidence left the day his ex-wife did. He knew Gloria’s sexuality had nothing to do with him. She told him that she had been denying the truth for a long time and couldn’t do it anymore. She was a lesbian when he married her but none of it helped.
Pete was her attempt to prove that she wasn’t into women. The attempt failed. That’s not how it worked but still, he couldn’t help feeling inadequate. Anna smiled as she worked. She was so pretty. Her dark complexion, her short spiky jet black hair, her bright eyes and full lips. And that body. She was thin but had her share of curves. So why couldn’t he just tell her that?
“I’m hungry,” Anna said suddenly, bringing him back to the here and now.
“Me too actually,” he agreed. Pete looked at his watch. It was well past noon. “So,” he said as he looked over the canned food they were sorting through, some of it his that he had grabbed from home but most of it Mike’s. There was plenty more in the cupboards too. “What do you want, Chunky soup, Chef Boyardee, or Dinty Moore?” Pete asked.
“I used to eat the hell out of those ravioli’s when I was a kid,” Anna admitted. Pete cocked his head.
“Really? Me too. I loved them. Still do. Chef Boyardee is the shit,” Pete said and grabbed two cans. Anna laughed at his exuberance. A few minutes later, they were enjoying a treat from their childhood at the card table in the middle of the cabin, warmed on the Coleman stove Mike had among his gear. The rest of the day was quiet. There weren’t many people up this way and like everywhere else, most seemed to be staying out of sight...or were dead. There wasn’t any sign of zombies either.
After they sorted and put away the gear, laid out the guns and counted the ammo, they ate Dinty Moore stew for dinner and washed it down with one of the jars of moonshine Anna had discovered in the cupboards. “I thought this was illegal,” Anna remarked when she found it, clearly marked “moonshine” with a permanent marker.
“It is... or it was,” he told her. Mike was a prepper. He brewed his own beer and made his own hot sauce. Pete knew because Mike had often given him some to sample. He must have been making booze too. Anna opened the Mason jar and sniffed at the liquor. Pete could already smell the apple pie scent.
“Well, here’s to Mike. Thanks for everything,” Anna said and took a sip from the Mason jar before handing it to Pete.
“To Mike,” he added and took a swig. They drank half the jar before finally giving in. Pete and Anna relaxed, bathed in the lantern light, the windows covered with black drapes to keep their presence hidden. The door was locked and barred. They felt safe for the first time since early that morning. They needed that, not to mention the moonshine. Pete offered the jar to Anna and she waved him off.
“I’m done,” she said, swaying in her chair and slurring her words. Pete screwed the lid on and set the jar aside. He felt safe but it was a fleeting feeling. He wondered if they truly were protected in the little cabin. But he figured they didn’t have a choice so he decided to indulge in the illusion.
“Which bunk do you want?” Pete asked as he got up, grabbing the table to steady himself. Once he found his balance, Pete took the lantern and moved toward the bedroom. The other room had two wooden platforms built against opposite walls. Each held a sleeping pad and a pillow. There were blankets folded in a foot locker at the end of each bunk.
“Can we share one?” Anna asked. Pete looked back at her and found her biting her lip, standing next to the table. Oh, how he wanted Anna.
“You’re drunk,” he replied. He wanted his traveling companion but not in her present state. But apparently, they weren’t thinking the same thing.
“No...I just want you to hold me,” she replied. Pete nodded, understanding. He found he wanted that too. He wanted to be close to someone, to hold Anna and pretend everything was alright.
“I can do that,” he told Anna, walked to her and took her hand. Pete led her to one of the bunks where Anna sat as he made the other one. When he was finished, Pete kicked off his boots and climbed under the covers where Anna joined him. The beautiful girl pressed her clothed body against him as he wrapped his arms around her. It was as if she couldn’t get close enough to Pete. Anna reached over and turned off the lantern that sat on the table next to the bunk as they snuggled under the blankets.
“Good night, Pete,” she said quietly.
“Night, Anna,” he replied. Neither slept until well past midnight.
~~~
“Pete!” Anna whispered harshly.
“I heard it,” he replied. Someone...or something had broken the window in the main room. Whatever it was, it grunted as it climbed inside. Anna rolled off the bunk and Pete was up instantly. They each grabbed their guns, Anna her snub-nose revolver and Pete his shotgun. She followed Pete towards the door where he peeked out into the main room of the small cabin.
Even in the dark, the knit cap gave the intruder away. It was the same meth head from that afternoon. Apparently, he wasn’t as smart as Pete thought. There were plenty of empty cabins to ransack but the man came back to this one. He fumbled around in the dark, ramming his leg into the card table in the middle of the room, cussing as he did.
“Stop right there,” Pete told him but the man didn’t listen. He made it to the door, unlocked it and a moment later, two other men rushed inside. Pete hesitated, as did Anna, as the men rushed in, flashlights illuminating the cabin. The intruders had guns too and a moment later the two camps were at a standoff, guns leveled at one another.
“Put them down and no one gets hurt,” one of the new men ordered.
“Not going to happen,” Anna announced.
“She is cute,” the other new man said as he shined his flashlight at Anna. Pete looked at Anna and saw the fear in her eyes.
“I told you, Ben. She’s the best you’ll find out this way,” the meth head replied.
“Here’s the deal. You drop that shotgun and we’ll let you live. You can just walk right out of the cabin. Neither of you are wearing wedding rings,” Ben said as he lowered his light momentarily to inspect Pete and Anna’s hands. “She can’t be that important to you. Just leave her and all the food and gear. We’ll be gentle,” Ben finished.
“Yeah, real gentle,” the meth head said, leering at Anna.
“Shut up, Mark,” Ben told him. “So, do you live or are you a hero?” Ben asked. Pete looked back at Anna.
He simply mouthed, “Get down.” Pete turned towards the three men. “I guess I’m going to be a hero,” he told them and without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the trigger. The shotgun’s report had everyone’s ears ringing but Ben wasn’t alive to hear it. He stumbled back with a load of birdshot in his chest, falling against the wall and sliding to the floor, dead.
Pete pushed Anna onto the bunk as he backed into the bedroom. That bunk shared the wall with the door to the main room and the intruders wouldn’t have a shot without exposing themselves. “If they poke their heads in, shoot,” Pete whispered to Anna. She nodded as Pete tried to find a way out of the cabin.