by Dulaney, C.
“I think so, yeah.”
Jake looked over his shoulder at Mia, who had surprisingly started to snore. He jerked his thumb towards the loft ladder and looked back to me. “Wanna pull that thing up and get some sleep?”
“Yeah.”
We crawled over towards the ladder and, very slowly, pulled it up into the loft. Our energy was sapped, our bodies shutting down, the adrenaline rush long since gone. The pain was back, and I’d never been so tired in my life. We crawled back to the window, Jake grabbed my arm and pulled me down between him and Mia, and I was snoring before my head hit the hay.
* * *
We didn’t wake up until the next morning, some fifteen hours later. Jake’s horse was dead, with Mia’s not far behind. Daisy seemed to be doing alright, but I didn’t hold out much hope for her either. We had ridden them too hard the day before. My horses weren’t bred for long distance endurance races. Afterward we went over to the old farmhouse to look for food. We hadn’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours, and it was starting to catch up with us. I didn’t even bother with the radio on my side; we were too far away for the others to hear us. Unless the good folks who had lived here pre-Z had a vehicle stashed away in the garage, we were up Shit Creek.
“Man, I’m so hungry, I’d eat a rat if I had any shells to shoot it with,” Jake said, rummaging around the pantry.
“Yeah, no kidding. I’ll kill the sonofabitch with my bare hands, I don’t care right now.” Mia’s head was shoved into one of the cabinets above the counter. The kitchen had been cleaned out, that much was clear.
I kicked an empty tin can across the hardwood floor. “This is useless, guys. There’s nothing here.”
Mia turned the sink faucet on and stuck her mouth under it as a small trickle of water seeped out. Jake hurried over and took his turn, taking a few drinks before motioning me over. I was able to get a mouthful before the faucet went dry, the water tasting stale and smelling of sulfur.
“Shit.” I rubbed my side and wiped my dry lips on my shirt sleeve. “Let’s check out the rest of the house, then head back to the barn. We’ve got some jerky in our saddlebags, unless someone stole it.”
The other two nodded wearily and followed me through the house. We went from room to room, searching for anything that could be of use. The rest of the place was like the kitchen—cleaned out.
“We could always eat my horse,” Jake mumbled.
Mia smacked him on the arm. “Jesus, Jake.”
“Let’s go.” I was so close to tears it was embarrassing.
Just as we started out the backdoor, Mia spied something shiny hanging on a nail between the doorjamb and an Elvis Presley collector’s clock. It was a set of car keys.
“Hey,” she said, reaching out and snagging them from the nail.
The three of us stared at those keys like they were McDonald’s french fries. I looked at Jake, he looked at Mia, and Mia looked out the door towards the garage.
“Let’s get the hell outta here, ladies.”
* * *
Since I had already told Jake once that I was not leaving my horse, the trip back to West Virginia took a great deal longer than the trip out. Daisy was tied to the back bumper of the ‘84 Crown Victoria we had found in the garage back at the farmhouse. It was slow going (we didn’t want to run her relentlessly like I had coming across the Ohio countryside), but we were making our way back home with surprisingly little trouble. We had indeed found beef jerky in our saddle bags, though it only made a dent in our hunger, and Mia’s horse was dead by the time we’d finished searching the house. The old car had a full tank of gas when we headed out, and I had no idea how far it would get us. Either way it was better than hoofing it all the way back.
We were headed northeast, backtracking our trail towards Blueville, and were about twenty-five miles from the river when Jake decided he needed another pit stop.
“Jesus Christ, Jake, you just pissed ten miles ago. Can’t you hold it?” My patience was wearing very thin. It was hot, we were hungry and thirsty, and the trip was taking entirely too damn long.
“Hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go. Besides, my goddamn legs keep goin’ numb. I swear this was the dumbest fuckin’ idea you’ve ever had, Kase,” he began lecturing me, twisted around in the driver’s seat to glare at me in the backseat. “It’s a horse for Christ’s sake. You know we’d be in West Virginia by now if we didn’t have to lead that hay-burnin’, fat sack of─”
Mia punched him, hard, on the shoulder. “Jake, c’mon.”
My face was burning and I was suddenly so furious with the whole situation I could have pulled my pistol and shot them both right then and there. Why? Because I was mad at myself. I knew Jake was just as hot and irritated as I was, so he probably hadn’t meant what he’d said. But that in and of itself is the most ridiculous cliché I’d ever heard. We always say exactly what we mean when we’re angry. Hell, that’s the only time people are truly and completely honest—when they’re fighting mad and their real feelings pour forth like projectile vomit. His words had brought all the guilt and anger I’d been feeling towards myself to the front burner, reminding me of all the terrible things that had happened every time I had made a decision. Perhaps I was being too hard on myself, except there was definitely a pattern forming that, apparently, someone other than myself had noticed.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said after several tense minutes of silence. They both stared at me.
“Huh?” Jake asked. Mia started to shake her head. I waved it away.
“No, he’s right. Daisy is slowing us down. If this was pre-Z, time wouldn’t be an issue. But it’s not. I’m sorry, guys.” I was unable to finish my train of thought because my throat was starting to tighten up. I didn’t want to cry in front of them, so I opened the door, got out, pulled my rifle off the seat, and slammed the door shut.
Jake and Mia slammed their doors behind me as I busied myself with untying Daisy from the bumper.
“Kasey, just wait a second here,” Mia pleaded. “Leave her tied, we’re doing fine! There’s no reason for you to leave her.”
I looked at her but didn’t answer, just rolled up the length of rope, walked around them both, and tossed the rope into the backseat.
“I’m not leaving her.” I untied the reins from the saddle horn, checked the saddle bags to see what was left inside, then slid my rifle into the sleeve.
“Bullshit.” Jake grabbed my arm before I could step into the stirrup. “No, you’re not doin’ this.”
He stared steadily into my face, his hand gripped tightly around my bicep, behaving eerily similar to the day he’d pulled a gun on me. The day I’d lost Zack. I took a deep breath and forced myself to remain calm. No small feat, considering what I really wanted to do was beat the living shit out of him. Not because I was particular angry with either of them, but only to give my selfish anger an outlet.
“I have to, Jake. Call me sentimental,” I said. “You’ll make better time this way, and I can cut cross-country. I have a pretty good idea where the others have gone, so we might even get there about the same time. I’ll be fine.”
He worked his jaw, chewed over his options, and tried to figure out the right thing to do. That’s the funny thing I had learned after all this, that there is no one right thing. No right answer. Living in a world that was more about surviving than it was living, you had to do whatever it was you felt you had to do. Not all of your choices would be easy, not all of them would turn out the way you had planned. If you were still breathing the next day, then you were doing something right.
No matter what choices you had to make along the way to get you there.
No matter how many loved ones died.
“Well if you’re going, then get gone. It’ll be dark soon,” Mia said after walking over to stand next to us. Jake let go of my arm, but was still clenching his jaw and frowning. I started to pull the radio from my belt.
“No.” Mia waved her hand in front of her. “You keep that. Just
in case.”
Then she stepped up and hugged me tightly for a moment. I patted her back and let her go, watching as she walked back to the car. After her door slammed shut, I looked back at Jake, who was still fuming.
“Go on, if you leave now you should get there before dark.” I jerked my chin in the direction of the bridge.
Just as I lifted my leg to stick my foot back into the stirrup, he grabbed my arm again and pulled me around to face him. “Goddamnit, Jake, we’re not going to keep─” I was interrupted when he jerked me forward and wrapped his arms around me.
“If you cut south after the bridge, cross-country, you’ll be headed straight to the rendezvous. Don’t stop, not even to rest, and call for one of us over the radio every so often until you’re within reach,” he said directly into my ear.
I couldn’t speak, so I simply nodded. We stood like that for a long time with our arms locked around each other in a death grip. Daisy snorted next to us finally, ready to get moving again. This seemed to cue Jake as well, because he pulled away from me suddenly, grabbed my face with both hands, and kissed me hard on the mouth. Before I could say anything, he was halfway back to the car, jerking the door open, and turning the engine over.
I grunted, turned, and mounted up as the old Crown Victoria sped away. “Well girl, just us again. We’ll water at the river, then head over the hill. Don’t worry, I won’t push you too hard this time.” I pulled the crumpled pack of Camels from my shirt pocket, lit up, and let Daisy start out at her own pace towards West Virginia.
* * *
“Shouldn’t have left her,” Jake kept mumbling every other mile or so.
Mia sat sideways next to him, glancing back and forth between him and the road. They’d left Blueville behind and were speeding down the highway towards the prison road, headlights glaring, not a word being spoken between the two of them except for Jake’s regrets over leaving Kasey behind. Until now.
“Jake, give the girl some credit. She’ll be fine. Hell, she’s better off out there, in the woods on horseback, after dark, than either of us would’ve been.” She patted his shoulder and scooted around in the seat, knowing the turnoff for Route 18 would be coming up soon and knowing that Jake was so preoccupied he’d miss it.
“Yeah, she’ll be alright.” Several minutes later, and ten miles down the road, he mumbled again, “Shouldn’t have left her.”
* * *
“Are we good?” Michael asked John.
Everyone had just finished making their assigned rounds through the large, medieval Winchester Country Club and Resort. Located miles from the nearest highway and situated on forty acres of wide open golf courses and meadowland—not to mention the Ohio river directly behind it, effectively sealing off the backside from any nasties, unless the bastards had learned how to swim—this stone mansion seemed to be the perfect stronghold for a group of people to defend against zombies. Of course, the prison had seemed perfect too.
“Yeah, we’re good,” John assured him. “Nothing’s been messed with since the last time we had people up here. The supplies have been stowed away, I got a couple people set up on watch, the kids are finally asleep. So I think that’s it. Now we wait for the others to get here.”
Michael motioned for John to follow him outside. They walked across the stone floor of the large entryway, their footsteps echoing through the cavernous sitting room behind them. Everything about this place was big, perhaps too big. Better to have too much room than not enough.
“As soon as the sun comes up, I want everyone who’s able to get back to work on that wall,” Michael said once they were outside.
He motioned to the concrete block wall he and his men had started building around the first set of golf courses several weeks earlier, before Kasey and her gang had happened upon them along the road. When the wall was complete, it would stretch from river bank to river bank, surrounding the country club and the immediate area: Twenty acres of flat land, perfect for grazing and farming. It would also be twenty feet high with watch stations built at four separate locations. It was hard work, and would take some time to finish, but this wall would be better protection than a chainlink fence. At least the runners couldn’t climb it.
“Will do. I’ll keep one of Jonah’s guys on watch while the rest of us work. I think Nancy and Abby will have their hands full with that bunch of rugrats we dragged along,” John said.
“Easy, big guy,” Michael soothed. “Alright, after breakfast, you, me, and whoever else is available will get to work on the wall.” He patted his friend’s arm and walked back inside just as the first rumble of thunder boomed in the night sky.
John followed and shut the door. “Night, Mary-Ellen.”
Michael didn’t even pause while walking up the long, winding staircase. He threw up his hand and gave John the bird. “Night, John-boy.”
* * *
Daisy jumped beneath me at the first crack of thunder. It had been looking a little cloudy earlier, before dark. I’d been hoping the rain would hold off until we had made it to our destination. From what John had told me, it was some kind of highfalutin’ golf course or something like that. I’d been on the back of a horse so long by that time, I didn’t give a shit if it was a cardboard box with barbed wire strung up around it. Anything was better than riding around in the woods after dark, completely numb from the waist down, and so hungry I had seriously been considering shooting Daisy and eating her hindquarters raw.
As far as deadheads were concerned, I had been lucky in not running into any more of the fast variety. We’d had to navigate around two small groups of the slower kind, just at the far end of Blueville. I heard them moaning when I stopped to water the horse at the river, but didn’t smell anything until we were almost on top of them. They were easy enough to dodge; anything was easy to dodge after having to deal with runners on several separate occasions. And they hadn’t followed me. That was a new development. I was thinking that maybe their severely degraded physical condition had something to do with their lack of interest. Or maybe their brains had decomposed to such an extent that the virus could no longer completely control their dead bodies. It would also explain why that huge horde hadn’t followed us to the farm the day before. It made sense.
Well, it made sense to me. I wouldn’t put too much faith in my theories if I were you. My ass was asleep and I was slowly starving to death. That should give you a bit of insight on my ability to think during that ride through the woods.
Thunder boomed again overhead, and big fat drops of rain began pelting my arms and face. I was riding by sense of direction only; there was no moon out and I didn’t have a flashlight. We hadn’t exactly packed for this sort of thing when we were scrambling to escape the prison with our asses still attached. Not that I would know the difference at the moment, mine was so numb it might as well have been gone. I lowered my face a bit from the rain and kept Daisy moving southwest, slow and steady, stopping every fifty yards or so to listen for noises and to call out over the radio. So far I hadn’t been able to reach anybody. I figured Jake and Mia should’ve made it there by now. At least I was hoping they had. They only had five rifle shells between them when they left me earlier, no food or water, and most likely not enough gas to make it all the way. They were together, so that made me feel a little better about it. I had enough to worry about without adding those two to the list.
* * *
“Goddamnit!” Jake thumped his hands against the steering wheel. The car spit and sputtered down the gravel road.
He was just starting to believe they’d have enough gas to make it all the way to the vacation spa, or whatever the hell John had called the place, when the engine began jerking and trying to stall out. Mia sat beside him, already grabbing her empty rifle by the sling and taking off her seatbelt. Rain pounded against the windshield, which only added to Jake’s disgust.
“What else could—never mind.”
His voice was loud at first, shrinking to just above a whisper when he realiz
ed what he’d been about to say. He peered at Mia out of the corner of his eye, preparing for the hit he was sure was coming, then relaxed when he saw her smile.
“Caught yourself that time. Lucky.” She opened her door and slid out into the rain.
Jake turned the switch and pulled the keys out of the ignition, grabbed his rifle from between the seats, and stepped out into the downpour as well.
“Shit.” He’d been stuffing the keys into his pocket. “These are about worthless now.” He opened the door again and tossed them onto the seat, then slammed it shut. “Well, looks like we’re hoofin’ it.”
“Yep.” Mia jerked her head to the side and motioned for Jake to get his ass moving. He tried to ignore the nagging thoughts he’d been having about Kasey and started off after his cranky companion.
They walked side by side down the road, boots crunching in the gravel, rifles slung over their shoulders, for another fifteen miles in the pouring rain before finally seeing lights up ahead. They looked at each other, water dripping from their hair and into their eyes, then began jogging the rest of the way along the dead-end road.
“Don’t run too fast. You know someone is on watch, and we don’t want them making the same mistake Kyra made when she saw me for the first time,” Mia said.
“Alright…don’t run too fast, don’t go batshit crazy, don’t start screamin’ my head off. Check, check, and check.”
They continued jogging until they entered the outer set of golf courses, then slowed to a walk. Jake held his hand up high and waved it back and forth several times, hoping to catch the attention of whoever was on watch.
“I’d say if they were gonna shoot us down, they would’ve done it already,” Mia said. “Put your hand down, jackass.”