My throat closed up and I struggled to breathe, much less get words out to reply to his sad statement. Luckily Nova filled in for me.
“How old were you at your birthday party?” she asked carefully.
“I don’t know.” He blinked again, his big brown eyes burning into me with sadness.
I looked up at Nova again, who only shrugged at me. “How old are you now, Adam?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said with such innocent earnest that it hurt me like a physical lash to my heart.
“How long have you been on your own?” I asked cautiously, not sure if he was going to lash out angrily again, or perhaps even burst into tears. But he did neither. Instead he answered me in his calm little voice.
“A really long time. Mommy said to wait for her, but I don’t think she’s coming back. Daddy was hurt, she said she was taking him into the woods for a rest and she would be right back.” Adam looked away, his dirty shoes snagging his attention. “But she never came back. I waited and waited for her, but then I got hungry.”
I had heard many sad stories since this all began, but this was the one that I found the most heartbreaking. He was just a kid—a little boy. I put the missing pieces of the story together in my head. His father must have died, and the mother was taking him into the woods so as not to upset Adam. I was guessing that the father—once dead—had turned, and attacked the mother, and neither had ever come back for Adam. How the hell had he survived all this time on his own? How had he kept himself fed and watered, and safe? It was mind-boggling.
I shook my head sadly. “Nova is going to let you go now, but please don’t run. I promise that we won’t hurt you.”
I looked up at Nova and gestured for her to let him go, and she did without question. I could tell from the look on her face that his story had cut her deep, too. Adam was short, and his long, scraggly hair looked almost black—but that could have been due to the fact that it was thick with dirt and grease from years of being unwashed, or that it was soaking wet from the rain. His face was thin and pale but his cheeks still held that cherub look that all kids had. But his eyes were far too grown up for his young face. They told too many dark tales for a boy his age.
“Let’s get back to our room and get you something to eat, Adam.” I spoke as if I knew what the hell I was doing.
I wasn’t a mother, and I had never aspired to be one previously. Certainly in this lifetime I never wanted to be one—not with the way things were. What would be the point? This world was not for children. I could only hope and pray that someone at the mall would take him under their wing and care for him, because I really didn’t want it to be my job. I thought about Jessica, realizing that this little boy might be the perfect solution for her. That is if we could get that demon spawn out of her and keep her alive long enough to be his new mother. It was almost the perfect solution for both him and her, and I knew I had to get him back there to her as soon as I could. I had been worrying about whether Jessica would believe me about Hilary and the zombie baby and be willing to get rid of the thing growing inside her, because she was so desperate to be a mother again—even if it meant to something that wasn’t quite human, or the possibility of it taking her own life. But with Adam there, motherless and alone in the world, she would have a reason to keep on living, she would have a reason to give up on that monster inside her. At least that was what I hoped. I certainly had a better shot at convincing her with Adam by my side.
I reached down to take his hand and he stared at it uncertainly, blinking and then looking back up at me. I thought I heard my heart crack at the fact that he didn’t know what to do, that the simple gesture of holding someone’s hand was now so foreign to him. He was as lost as all of us in this crazy, horrible world, and I prayed that we could find him some peace and love. Because every child deserves that. Every child deserves to be loved and to feel safe.
FORTY-ONE.
Back at the room, Mikey was dressed and looking uncomfortable. I raised an eyebrow at him as I came inside, Adam at my side. The kid clung to my legs at the sight of Mikey, and I bent down and pried his hands away so that I could look him in the eye.
“Adam, this is Mikey. He’s a good guy too. You can trust Mikey,” I said as calmly as I could.
Adam stared back at me, his eyes skittish and his desire to run away evident. He looked over my shoulder at Mikey and then Joan and then back to me.
“Do you trust him?” he asked innocently.
I looked Mikey in the eye. “I do.” I nodded, agreeing right away. My own words took me by surprise, because I wasn’t lying. I did trust Mikey, only I hadn’t realized how completely I trusted him until just then. I turned to look at Mikey, who was staring down at me, his expression blank but his eyes soft.
“Okay,” Adam replied. “Can we eat now?”
I sat Adam at the table and Mikey made us some oatmeal as the rain continued to pour down outside. There was no fresh fruit this time, but the oatmeal was good and filling regardless, if not bland. But bland food was still amazing food when you thought about how many times we had come close to starvation.
Adam ate his by tipping the bowl to his lips and slurping it down. He stared at my food longingly as he placed his own bowl back on the table, white, sticky oats surrounding his mouth like a milk moustache.
“Still hungry?” I asked.
He nodded and I pushed my bowl toward him. He snatched the bowl up quickly and tipped the food down his throat without another word, and I smirked as he slurped loudly.
Mikey offered me his oatmeal but I refused, opting for some jerky and ketchup, though it wasn’t long before Adam had that in his hand also. He burped loudly and looked at us all blankly, and I saw the familiar look of exhaustion on his face. It was almost identical to Joan’s the previous night.
“Do you want to sleep?” I pointed to the bed. “There are three of us to keep guard and make sure nothing happens while you do.”
“Four!” Joan said loudly, making him jump.
“Sorry, four of us.”
Adam nodded and I walked him over to the bed. He climbed on it and placed his head on the pillow, and I draped the blanket across his small body, watching as he flinched at the unfamiliar motion of someone tucking him into bed. He was small—probably due to the malnutrition, though some, I would suspect was just bad genes. I went to move away from the bed, but his dirty hand shot out and grabbed mine before I could go.
“Don’t go,” he whispered, sounding frightened.
I pushed the hair back from his face and smiled at him, seeing the panic and fear that maybe I would disappear, or that perhaps this was a dream to him. That when he awoke we would be gone and he would be all alone again.
“Scoot over,” I said, climbing onto the bed.
Adam shuffled backwards and I lay down next to him, pulling the blanket over us both. His big round eyes stared up at me with unfaltering innocence, his chin trembling, and I panicked that he would cry. Crying kids were so far out of my comfort zone, I worried that I would freak out if he did. So I placed a hand on his cheek and stroked it while shushing him. His chin slowly stopped trembling and his eyelids began to close, and then exhaustion finally took over as he fell into a deep sleep.
None of us spoke for a long time, all afraid to wake the poor kid up. He seemed so lost and frightened, yet he was obviously clever and strong to have survived on his own. Or at the very least, a really fucking quick runner. What that must have been like, I wondered, for a small child waiting for their parents to come back? For the thing of nightmares to be knocking at your door? To be starving, cold, and alone?
I eventually slid off the bed and we all moved next door, keeping the interconnecting door open so we could check on him. I sat down on the edge of the bed feeling sad and tired.
“Is anyone thinking what I’m thinking?” Joan asked seriously. “Because it’s pretty obvious to me what needs to be done.”
I stared at her, dreading would come out of her mouth next
. She eyed us all carefully, making sure that we were all listening to her, completely rapt to her.
“Spit it out,” Nova said while lighting a cigarette.
“I think we need to make some mojitos.” She grinned and nodded. “Right?”
I blinked and then began to laugh quietly. Joan was no help when it came to survival of the body. I doubted she could fend off a bunny, let alone a zombie attack, but her random musings always seemed to lighten the mood, and in turn lighten our souls. She would annoy the living heck out of Michael, but I’d be damned if she wasn’t the sort of person that he needed around him.
“Mojitos would be amazing,” Nova sighed. “But I think we need to decide what to do with the kid before we make those.”
“He’s coming with us,” I said automatically.
“I know that,” Nova huffed. “That shit goes without sayin’, but someone needs to be looking out for him, and while he’s cute an’ all, I don’t want that to be me.” She made smoke rings into the air and then poked her finger through the center of one. “I’m not really the motherly type.”
“You can say that again,” Mikey muttered.
“I will cut you,” Nova snarled.
“You can try,” he snapped back. He looked up to me. “You seem to have a good rapport with him.” He shrugged.
I held my hands up. “Whoa there, I’m not going to be anyone’s surrogate mother. I’m more the Lone Ranger type than a mama bear.”
“The Lone Ranger? Really?” Nova raised an eyebrow at me.
“Yes,” I replied, sticking to my own self-analysis. “Whatever, I think I have the perfect solution.”
Nova stopped blowing rings and leaned forward in her chair, listening intently.
“Wait,” Joan butted in. “Is this before or after the mojitos?”
I snorted out a laugh. “After, waaaaay after.” I turned my attention back to Mikey and Nova. “So I was thinking Jessica could look after him.” I held out my hands, waiting for the praise of my genius plan.
“That is if she’s not dead yet?” Nova said darkly.
“Or she doesn’t die while we try and get that thing out of her,” Mikey said equally darkly.
“Yeah, yeah, semantics.” I brushed off both of their worries, even though they were very real concerns of my own. Because I didn’t want to worry about that right then. My head and heart could only take so much drama at one time, and at the moment it was getting to the safety of the mall and keeping this little boy safe.
Mikey sat down on the edge of the bed and looked down at his feet in thought. He clasped his hands together under his chin and didn’t say anything for a long time. When he finally looked back up, he was in agreement that it would be a great solution for both Adam and for Jessica. Not that I ever actually doubted my plan, or needed his or Nova’s approval, but it was always good when people agreed with your genius! After all, a child was what got Jessica into all this trouble in the first place, maybe a child could be what got her out of it.
“So now we need to decide what to do about traveling. This storm is still bad. Personally, I think that we should wait it out for twenty-four hours, but if you both want to travel, then I’ll go along with it,” Nova said, screwing up her empty cigarette pack. She looked at it forlornly.
“I agree. I think we need to stay put for another day. I don’t want to risk having an accident out there. We already have enough shit to worry about as it is,” I said before looking around the door to check on Adam. He was still sleeping soundly. Poor kid hadn’t moved since he’d closed his eyes and I wondered how many uninterrupted sleeps he’d had since the world ended. “Besides, it will be good for the kid to get to know us before we ask him to come with us.”
“It’s too dangerous to travel in this storm. We can barely see in front of us. Let’s sit tight and hope it passes over. We can check these rooms for anything important and get some much-needed rest before traveling tomorrow. We’ll be at the mall by tomorrow night easily.” Mikey turned to me. “Which means that you need to get some rest today. No one should take a full nightshift on their own.” He pointed at me with annoyance.
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes.
“No, not whatever. That shit’s not cool. The sleep was appreciated, of course, but we’re a team, and we work as a team. None of this Lone Ranger crap anymore,” he said with a low growl of authority.
I rolled my eyes again. “Fine,” I snapped out. “Teamwork.”
I hated teamwork. I was not a team player in any way, shape, or form, but if it could get him to stop being so freaking grumpy then I’d relent. At least for the time being, because we were all sardined into this stupid little motel with no escape from one another.
“Nina, can I have a quick word with you?” Mikey stood up and moved to the small bathroom, once inside he shut the door and pulled out the map we had found in the gas station and a pen. “Where was the Island? I want to start preparing.”
I took the pen he offered, and looked the map over. He had folded it to the right section and was surprised with myself when I managed to find the exact place I had been talking about. Fond memories flowed through me. Summer vacations with Ben’s parents, barbeques and beer, and kissing Ben as we stayed up to watch the stars. I may not know the exact directions to get there, but I could never forget that place.
“You okay?” Mikey asked.
I nodded and circled the cabin and Island, though on the map it was barely a dot. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I handed the map back over to him and he looked it over with his own little nod as if he were memorizing the journey.
We came back out of the bathroom to wolf whistles from Nova and I almost blushed. Almost. Instead I chose to give her the finger and roll my eyes.
“Nina, you wait here with the kid, and Nova and I will go look for any supplies.” Mikey stood up, and I glowered at him.
“And why am I not allowed to go?” I snapped defensively.
“Because you’re the only one he trusts, and if he runs off again, we won’t be waiting around to find him. We leave tomorrow morning, rain or no rain. Kid or no kid.” He moved toward the door and I stared angrily at his back, knowing he was right. About everything.
I hated being wrong.
“Fine,” I snapped again, wanting to get the last word in as he left the room.
He didn’t reply, but it didn’t make me feel any better. Nova looked back at me with a grin.
“Fuck off,” I snapped at her and she left with a snicker, clicking the door closed as she went.
Joan looked across at me expectantly. “So, what now?”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know, maybe we could make mojitos,” I said sarcastically.
She looked pleased, and clapped here hands together. “Yay!”
FORTY-TWO.
Mikey and Nova returned from their scavenge of the seedy motel with mixed emotions. Mikey was grumpy as hell that there wasn’t anything useful left. He did manage to find some more clothes and drag them back in a suitcase, but there was nothing in the way of food or drink.
Nova, on the other hand, was extremely happy after finding a shit-ton of cigarettes, and even some alcohol. This had me wondering why only those things had been left behind. All the food had been taken—not that we were expecting much, but there was always nearly something left behind: a health bar or some gum, half a bottle of juice…something.
Adam was still sleeping and we set about putting some sort of meal together. Between what was in the stolen truck and what we had left from both Mikey’s and our supplies, we got a good meal of beans, rice, and peas. It wouldn’t be the tastiest thing we’d ever eaten, but it would be filling. And sometimes, you just needed that hole filled with something—anything to stop the ache that you would feel all the way through to your bones. Hunger was the worst. Sometimes when it got so bad, you could hardly talk, never mind walking, but talking and fighting for your life were out as well.
We made a small fire in one of the hotel trashcans and use
d another to cook the water and rice in. At least with all the rain we wouldn’t go thirsty, and we had set about collecting and salvaging as much of the water as possible. Joan had picked some herbs she had seen at the fence line when she and Nova had gone to pick the pockets of the deaders, insisting that they were edible and tasted amazing cooked with rabbit or duck—not that we had either of those things, but we took a great big bunch of them and I prayed that we found either a rabbit or duck on the way back to the mall. She chopped them up and added them to the dish, and Adam began to stir as we served up the food.
“Nina,” Mikey said quietly, nodding over to the doorway.
I turned around and looked over to find the waif of a boy standing in the doorway, looking lost and a little bewildered. He blinked at me, and I had the strangest urge to reach over and smooth down his disheveled bed hair.
“Hey,” I said, softly, giving him a small smile that turned into a weird half yawn and possibly freaked the little tyke out. I reached out a hand and he quickly scooted to my side. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded rapidly, and Nova served up a large portion for him.
“It’s hot. Don’t burn yourself on it,” she said as he snatched the food from her and sat on the floor next to me.
Adam dove into the food with gusto, grunting greedily, licking his fingers, and smacking his lips together noisily. And if the food was too hot for him, he didn’t show it at all. I watched him with a small, satisfied smile before I let it fall as a realization set in. We had fed him and let him get hours of uninterrupted sleep, and I was almost certain that it was probably the best food and sleep he’d had in years, but now what? I didn’t know what to do with a kid—let alone a kid in an apocalypse. It wasn’t like we could exactly go on a bike ride or play soccer.
He finished eating and looked up at me eagerly. I asked Nova to give him the remaining food, and he took it gratefully but didn’t bother to acknowledge her with a thanks. In fact, he hadn’t really made note of anyone else but me.
The Dead Saga (Book 3): Odium III Page 28