“But that poor woman, what they did to her—”
“That was all Rachael. We can’t blame the majority for one person’s mistake.” I could tell it pained her to admit that, to say out loud that her sister had been seriously messed up in the head. But I didn’t believe that it was all Rachael’s fault.
I looked at her sharply. “Yet they all stood by and let it happen. How many more women, children, people have they harmed trying to find this cure?”
“You’re so fucking high and mighty, Nina.” Nova lit another cigarette, blowing the smoke out angrily. “What if it worked? What then? Surely the pain of a few is worth it for the cure?”
“You sound just as crazy as she was,” I said angrily, my eyes burning vicious holes into her.
Her mouth opened and closed as she struggled to come back with an equally cruel retort, but there was nothing crueler than that, so she gave up, the air leaving her as if she had been deflated. And I felt lousy because I hadn’t mean to hurt her; it was just that my stupid mouth making me say things before I really had time to think them through.
“Can we go see?” she asked quietly, almost as if she was afraid to ask.
I hated it when she did this to me, making me seem like the asshole if I said no to her. I mean, you can’t say no to someone that pouts this much!
I watched the smoke rising in the distance, imagining the horror that might be waiting for us. The horror of all the people stuck there—trapped, held prisoner while they were tested on in the hopes of finding a cure for the disease which had ravaged this planet. But deep down I knew we had no choice. This place, this prison camp, is what we’d set out to find. Sure, we were looking for Hilary and Deacon, too, but it was this place that fascinated me the most. Me and my morbid curiosity.
“It’s your call,” I said quietly, knowing the answer before she gave it to me. Because we had to help as many people as we could. Surely that was the point of being strong—to help the weak, the people in need. Without that, what were we? Animals? Probably worse. We’d be more like the deaders. And that was why I had come on this trip to start with, right? To prove that I wasn’t not bad—if only to myself.
Nova spun the truck around in the middle of the road, sending mud and dirt flying up around the wheels and then setting back off the way we had come. She eyed the road carefully, leaning forward as she drove and slowing down as she came to a thicket of trees. She turned down it, the long branches from overgrown brush scraping noisily down the side of the old truck. My stomach lurched and tumbled the further she drove, twisting in on itself in nervous anxiety. The road was overgrown and muddy as hell, and the rain had started to come down again—a light showering of pure freezing cold water that made Nova turn on the windshield wipers.
A mile or so down the road, she slowed down until we were practically creeping along at a snail’s pace, every bump and knock to the truck noticeable. She wound her window down and leaned out as she drove, all the while muttering to herself.
I wound my own window down, hating the smell of the fire and smoke that lingered thickly in the air, it made my stomach ache with worry at the thought of what could have happened there. And of course, selfishly, the thought of possibly driving into something bad, something we might not come back from, always made me feel really freaking dandy! Cue eye-roll.
“Here,” Nova said loudly, and I turned in my seat away from my open window and toward her as she pulled the truck down an even more overgrown path. We had almost missed it, it had been so hidden. “This isn’t good,” she said darkly. “No one has been down here in a long time. It wasn’t like this before.”
A chill ran down my spine at her words, but for once I kept my mouth shut. The truck bumped and shook as it went over the depressions in the ground and crunched over fallen branches. The rain was not making it any easier to see where we were going, and it was making the path slick with mud. I found myself biting down on my nail again, anxiety coursing through me, and when I looked at Nova I saw the same trepidation on her face.
She finally stopped the truck, putting it into park, and then looked at me with wide, worried eyes. “We’re here, it’s just around this bend.” She jerked her head to the left.
The smell of burnt flesh wafted in to us even stronger than before, and my nose automatically wrinkled in disgust, but I ignored it and gave Nova a firm nod.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” she asked.
“Not really, but I’ve got your back regardless,” I said, clutching my katana harder.
Nova smiled at my words, and then when she noticed my hand firmly gripping my katana, she did a quick inventory of her weapons again before giving me a firm nod and winding her window back up. I did the same as she drove slowly forward.
She hadn’t been lying, either, when she had said it was just around the bend. As the truck pulled around to the left, tall iron gates came into view, standing imposingly high in front of us. One of them hung loosely to one side, letting anyone or anything in. The wall surrounding what was left of the city reminded me of my own humble beginnings in the nightmare/walled city I lived in for several years. Which in turn left me with a distinctly bad taste in my mouth. My time behind the walls was not something I wanted to think about right then, and it certainly was not somewhere I’d envisioned ever coming again—yet there we were. I thought about what frightened me more, and decided it was the fact that I had just come face to face with my own nightmare. Nova had said that there were more walled cities, but I didn’t truly believe her until this moment. But now, knowing that there were more of those places out there, more pain and humiliation, more suffering and starvation, I felt anger burning in my gut.
I swallowed it down, barely containing the heavy grinding noise my teeth were making as I looked at the gates in front of us. Like most structures left in the world, the walls were covered in flourishing plants; green ivy clung to the walls’ surface, continually climbing ever higher. Mixed in with the ivy was some other unnamed plant, but one I had seen several times before. It flowered in the summer, sprouting bright pink and yellow flowers that reminded me that there was still beauty left in the world.
The walls seemed smaller, yet built with more thought and care than mine ever had. And from our vantage point, they looked much stronger. Not that the walled city I had been in wasn’t strong, because clearly it was—it had kept the dead out and the humans in for long enough—but there was something about this small city that spoke volumes in strength. I just couldn’t pinpoint what exactly. Perhaps it was because I knew of the horrors that went on within the walls?
“Well that was not a good sign,” Nova said darkly, referring to the broken gate.
“Nope,” I replied.
“Well, we’re here now, let’s gate-crash this party.”
We kept on driving, pulling through the open gate and into the city, carefully avoiding the debris in our path, and my eyes went wide as I took in the full horror. Nova gasped and pulled the truck to a stop before looking out of her window. I leaned over, looking out of my own window.
“Are they all…?” I didn’t finish my sentence. I didn’t need to. Nova knew what I was getting at.
“Dead-dead? Yep, looks that way,” she said.
“And the people?” I asked, staring in stomach-turning dread at the human bodies scattered everywhere, limbs removed, insides devoured, and heads caved in.
“They either didn’t turn or were put out of their misery by someone,” she said, beginning to drive again. “At least that’s what I’m guessing.”
We passed a non-zombie body and I looked down out of the window, seeing the person’s tortured expression. Most of their stomach was missing, a red and black gaping hole where their insides should have been. A single bullet-hole scarred the center of their forehead.
“But who did this?” I asked.
“Put them out of their misery? Or tore this city apart?” Nova asked, her voice devoid of emotion.
“Both,” I replied.
SEVEN
.
I opened the door of the truck and jumped down, the thick mud splashing up my boots. The rain had started to come down harder, making it difficult to navigate through the mud and bodies. Not that it made any difference: there was no one there for us to help—at least, not anymore. All that was left was body after rotting body.
We were careful as we moved around the city, checking each tent and home for any signs of life; but barring the odd stray animal, which growled yet warily gave us a wide berth, everything was dead. Nova didn’t say much. Her expression was hard as we moved around her old city. The only positive I found was that everything was still there—all the food and clothes, all the equipment, medicine, and weapons. It was a small miracle, really, that no one had stripped the place bare yet. Perhaps they knew it wasn’t safe there, or perhaps there was no one left alive that knew about the place. I looked at one of the small wooden huts. The flames had been doused by the rainstorm, gray smoke had all but finished billowing, and I frowned. This happened recently. Like, really recently.
I was about to voice my concerns to Nova when we came to a stop outside of a small wooden… house? Hut? It was clearly a home at one time, but it was tiny. Not that I was used to living in any sort of luxury or anything, but this was basically just a wooden shed made into a home. There were quite a few of those types of homes in that part of the city, and I was presuming they were better living arrangements than most.
I glanced at Nova. Her face was a blank canvas, but it was pretty obvious to me what this place was to her.
“This was where you lived,” I stated cautiously.
“Yeah” was all she replied tightly, before pulling at the door and going inside.
The air was stale and cold, but it was made up nicely, with a bed made from wooden crates and straw, and a blanket thrown over the top. Another crate was turned upside down with a few meager belongings upon it, and pictures hung on the walls. Some of them looked like the stuff you used to find in art galleries, and they seemed so random and out of place here.
Nova made a weird noise in the back of her throat as she moved toward the far side of the hut, where bits of paper and photos were tacked to the wall haphazardly. She pried a photograph from the wall and looked down at it sadly before turning back to me, her eyes glistening.
“This is the only photo I had of us all,” she said, her mouth turning up into a small smile. “I thought they would have given this place to someone else when I left.” She looked around her and continued. “Or trashed it. I would have been seen as a traitor in their eyes for leaving.”
I frowned at her, my shoulders feeling burdened with her guilt. “You did the right thing, though.”
“Did I?” Nova shook her head. “I should have helped these people. That was my fuckin’ job, Nina. I’m as bad as the assholes that were in charge.”
I looked at the photo in her hand and attempted a smile back as I looked upon the younger faces of Nova, Rachael, and Michael. They were young in the image, perhaps not more than thirteen to seventeen, their faces carefree and happy. Behind them were who I assumed were their parents. A man had a hand firmly on Michael’s shoulder, a stern but warm smile on his face. And their mother—damn, she was pretty. I handed the photograph over to Nova, happy that she had it back. I know I would do anything to have some of my old photos back. To be able to see my husband’s handsome face again. I closed my eyes and realized sadly that I could hardly even recall his smile anymore. The thought was chokingly sad.
“No, you’re not,” I said with more strength than I felt. My words seemed to have little effect, so I placed a hand on her arm. “I’ll be outside, waiting for you,” I said, and left hurriedly, knowing that she needed the moment to come to peace with her decision, and I needed the space to stop myself from crying at my own losses.
Back outside the rain was still coming down—the kind of fine drizzle that gets you completely drenched within minutes. My hair stuck to my face, and I didn’t bother to push it away, but instead lifted my face to the sky and closed my eyes. I let the rain wash the dirt free from my cheeks, and I breathed in the freshness of it all. The pitter-patter of rain, the clean air, and the damp on my skin, with my eyes closed it felt surreal, as if being back in my old life.
“Fuckin’ love the rain,” Nova said as she came back outside.
I looked across at her and saw that she was all business again, her emotions raw and dark but under check, and her cocky smile back on her face. But I knew it was all a false pretense, and yet I let her have it, because we all have to put a mask on to cope with this world. Sometimes it was the only way to survive it.
“I could leave it.” I shrugged, referring to the rain. I blinked away the rain that threatened to fall into my eyes. “It’s just wet and cold.” I sneezed again and wiped my nose on the back of my sleeve. It was gross, but what was a girl to do?
“Dude, it washes away the pain.” She looked up to the sky, letting the rain fall on her face and I couldn’t help but smile.
“I’d prefer a hot shower,” I said with a grin. “And a shot of tequila to wash away my pain.”
She looked down at me. “I’ll drink to that,” she laughed. “Let’s get back to the truck, there’s nothing here anymore. We’ll grab some of the supplies and keep moving.” She marched off, the muddy puddles splashing as she traipsed through them.
I followed her. Her mood was much darker than I’d ever seen on her. Not that I could blame her: she’d killed Rachael—her only sister—and there was a very real possibility that we might not make it back for her to see Michael ever again. It was a sad and very depressing thought as I realized that I wanted to make it back to base camp—that I wanted to see everyone again. Not just Emily-Rose, but Susan, Becky, James—even Mikey. Especially Mikey. Damn that man. Every one of them had a place inside of me now, and though it might not have been much, I would easily lay down my life for these people. I smiled to myself at how far I had come.
I caught up to Nova, walking by her side. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She smiled down at me. “I will be, anyway. It’s just all bullshit, isn’t it?” She didn’t pose it as a question but more of a statement.
“It is,” I agreed. “But things will get better. They have to.”
She grinned at me again. “Well aren’t you all buttercups and fuckin’ roses today?”
I rolled my eyes. “Me? No, I’m still Miss Pessimistic, remember. I’m just trying to cheer my friend up.”
She looked back across at me, her bright red hair plastered to her face, and she looked pale, malnourished, and cold, yet she was smiling insanely. “Nina, did you just say that we were friends?”
I looked away, a blush rising to my cheeks. She wrapped an arm heavily around the tops of my shoulders, making the damp from my clothes seep against my skin, and I shivered.
“Whatever.” I smiled, pushing out from under her arm and feeling embarrassed. “It doesn’t count for much, since you’re my only friend, so don’t let it go to your head or anything.”
“There’s the bitch I know and love,” she laughed.
We fell back into silence as we passed through the deserted camp, only the sound of our footsteps and the rain coming down to keep us company. That and my now-raging headache. This place was much like every town that you passed through these days. Bodies lined the streets, the stench of the dead hung in the air, and it was hard to imagine what life used to be like pre-apocalypse.
“Do you think we’ll ever get it all back?” I asked her seriously.
Nova looked up from her feet, glancing about us. “What? The world?”
“Yeah.”
“No, I think that this is it now. Or at least for us. If we ever do make it back from this, it will be long after we’re gone. Like our kids—or our kids’ kids—will get to see the world for what it was again, but not us.”
“Well that’s depressing,” I said sourly.
She chuckled, the sound being carried away in the rain. “Yea
h, it is, but it’s also realistic. That’s why we have to do what we can now, so that the world can continue on after we’re gone. However we may go.”
“And how do you see yourself going out?” I asked. “I’m going die stupidly, I just know it. I’ll more than likely trip over my own feet and shoot myself in the face with my own gun.” I chuckled and she laughed back, but in reality it was a very real fear of mine.
“You know that there’s total accuracy in that statement, don’t you, Nina? I mean, I’ve seen you shoot, and it ain’t for shit.”
I opened my mouth to say something back, but there seemed little point when she was speaking the truth. Because the thing was, I could barely do anything; I somehow just always manage to scrape by through sheer luck and dogged determination. The little skills that I had learned along the way weren’t nearly enough to keep me alive. Sure, they’d worked so far, but I needed to stop making it through things by the skin of my teeth and actually go into a situation knowing that I was going to come out of it alive. Or at least a little belief of that.
“Will you show me how to shoot?” I asked Nova.
“Of course I will. I need a new shooting partner now that I don’t have Michael or Rachael.” Her face fell at those words, the realization sinking in again.
“So, how are you going out?” I asked quickly, changing the subject.
“I’m going out in a blaze of glory—a hail of bullets and fire and the dead knocking on my door.” She grinned widely. “I’ll take as many of those fuckers out as I can before that day, though.”
“Me too,” I agreed.
“What, before you die from your total lack of coordination?”
I laughed and punched her in the arm. “Shut up!”
My words died on my lips as my eyes fell on our truck. I pushed Nova in the side to get her attention and then silently pointed to the truck.
“There’s someone in it,” I stated rather obviously.
Nova lifted up her gun and flicked off the safety. “Who are you? And what the fuck are you doing in my truck?” she shouted out loudly.
The Dead Saga (Book 3): Odium III Page 4