I start to shake. I drop my gaze, then realize its Tripp. He’s shaking berserkers off his legs. Then, he starts running.
I’m jerked forward. I start to fall when I take a cue from Kiwi. I grab onto his massive thumb and pull myself up. I hang on while he runs out of the dense forest. Away from the blurring monsters at his back. I grit my teeth and swing my legs up, landing back in the palm of his hand.
He comes to such a sudden stop at the edge of the woods that I drop to my stomach and hold onto his fingers in order to avoid being thrown off his hand again. The bad feeling in my stomach isn’t just stirring now. It’s twisting around and jabbing my insides.
Tripp lowers us to the ground and points off into the distance. Then, without a word, he turns and starts back for the tree line.
“No!” Kiwi almost trips over herself running to him. She grabs onto his leg the size of a tree trunk and starts to sob. “No! Tripp, don’t do this.”
My stomach has been batted down to my toes. I glance behind Tripp. With a clenched jaw, I realize we don’t have time. Tripp picks Kiwi off and sets her down next to me. He looks down into my eyes for seconds that seem like hours.
“Go,” he says in a gruff voice I don’t recognize.
I swallow and nod.
“No!” Kiwi shouts as I grab her around the waist. “No!” She screams as I sling her over my shoulder. She starts to pound me in the back. Then, I take off running. I don’t see him, but I know when he turns around. I feel it in the movement of the earth.
I run faster.
Tears and wind burn my eyes.
“You fucking bastard. We have to go back. We have to go back for him!” Kiwi pounds into my back harder, but I keep running.
I have to.
A pained howl pierces the air and my heart at the same time. I don’t see him, but I know those things are taking him down. With all their attention on Tripp, they’ve stopped chasing us.
We’re going to make it.
We’re going to make it because of him.
The pained howls turn into something inhuman and unnerving. It is a scream of agony. Draped over my shoulder, Kiwi has stopped fighting. Her body goes limp. My chest tightens, and I fight off a swell of emotion.
I can’t afford that shit. Not now.
Up in the distance, I see a bridge. It’s split in a jagged edge along the middle, but I can use it to get us out of here. I reach into my side pocket and pull out my zip line kit.
I don’t know how I manage. Maybe because I’m on auto pilot. Whatever it is, I put the thing together, while running with Kiwi draped over my shoulder. Then I load it into my launch gun.
As I near the bridge, I aim for the side of it and shoot. I catch a glimpse of blonde hair blowing like a flag at the other end of the bridge. I also catch my target. I yank on the line to make sure its secure, then drag Kiwi’s limp form down and hold her to my chest.
I tie the line around both of us only inches from the bridge. I jump up on the side and leap off. We plummet. Kiwi grips me around the neck, hard. Then, we come to a crushing halt and rebound back into the air, before falling again.
As we swing silently together, suspended in midair, I hear the monsters above us. They growl. They shriek. But they can’t see us. We bounce on the line as berserker feet trample across the bridge. They come to the gap in the bridge and run off. One after another, too mindless to know what they’re doing.
Their bodies splat like old pumpkins right beneath us.
I close my eyes and try to tune out the sounds.
Try to forget Tripp’s wails.
Try to not feel Kiwi shaking with grief against me.
I can’t do any of those things. I gasp at the emotion rushing into me. My own body starts to shake. As the last monster crashes to the ruined road below us, I scream.
I can’t get myself to stop.
Moments later, we’re sitting on the edge of the bridge looking at the bodies below. I shouldn’t call them bodies. What do you call a monster’s corpse?
Dead as shit is what I call them.
I’ve turned off the comm device in my ear so I don’t have to listen to Juliet’s prattling. She wants to go. She wants us to get our asses in gear. Can we do that for her, please?
Turning off the device is my way of telling her to fuck off.
I clear my throat and glance at Kiwi. I don’t know what to say. She was much closer to Tripp than I was. But even I’m smart enough to know he was the best one of us. The most human, whatever that means, of anyone on this messed up road trip.
My eyes start to water. I dab at them. Never been much of a crier. I clear my throat again.
“I’m going back to get him.”
Kiwi turns to me. She pulls her goggles onto her forehead. Underneath, her eyes are dark and narrow.
“What?”
I nod as if I’m convincing myself. “I’m going back to get him. Tripp.”
“Why?” She stands up. “He’s fucking dead.”
I get up with her and brush my pants off. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to leave his body there.”
She just stares at me like I’m some kind of fucktard. Across the bridge, Juliet is yelling something. To hell with both of them. I turn on my heels and start walking back.
“Pike, just get back here,” Kiwi says. “We have to go!”
I ignore her and step over a pile of mangled bodies. I stare straight ahead. I’m not going to leave him here. I can’t leave him here. Behind me, feet pound against pavement. I spot the line of trees ahead of me, although most of them have been ripped down. By Tripp. By berserkers. It doesn’t really matter now.
She grabs my arm and forces me to a stop. I turn and peer down at her.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks.
I jerk my arm away, turn, and keep walking. Her feet shuffle along beside me, her mouth shooting off questions I don’t hear. I’m on auto pilot again. It’s a safe place to be. A quiet place. I know I don’t walk for long, but it might as well be hours, or even days. Finally, I come to the forest’s edge. Side stepping a broken berserker at almost every turn, I stop in front of another snap shot of hell.
Beside me, Kiwi gasps. Then, she falls to her knees and begins to weep. The sight freezes me. And the smell. The smell of rotted things further rotting in death makes my stomach heave. I turn and dart to the nearest tree that’s still standing, lean over. and hurl my guts out.
I do this until there is nothing left inside. No sick. No thoughts. No feelings. Then, I turn and trudge back to this particular room in hell. I whip my trident off my back, find a place not covered in body parts, and start to dig. I don’t know when Kiwi got up to help me. All I know is we dig, her with her bare hands and me with my trident, for what seems like lifetimes.
Glancing down into the hole, I estimate it’s at least seven feet deep. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I glance at Kiwi, who is sitting beside the shallow earth, peering down. I turn and stumble over to Tripp and pick him up.
He’s back in his human form. And that human form is mangled to the point that a professional butcher might gag at the sight of him. I don’t focus on that. I focus on the horny fuck that tried to get my dick in him. The goofy mofo that didn’t let the fact the world was ending all around him kill his spirit. The guy that got me high when I really needed to get high.
That is the Tripp that I lower into the grave. Kiwi gasps and extends a hand that doesn’t reach down to Tripp. A tear spills out of one of those jet eyes. She stands up and blows him a kiss. Together, we cover him in dirt.
We bury our friend.
A guy that died to save people he barely knew.
A guy that believed this isn’t the end of us.
Kiwi pats his grave when we’re finished. Gone is crazy Kiwi. Before me is a tender woman who just lost her best friend. She glances up at the darkening sky.
“We have to go,” she says in a rough voice. “Got to find shelter before it gets dark.”
I nod. Then together, we head for the brok
en bridge. I zip line us across, and Juliet with all her cruelty is smart enough not to say shit to either of us.
We walk, and walk, and walk. Okay, walk is too strong a word. We drag our feet over broken pavement, or at least I do. It’s just the three of us. We lost Lee and Stein.
We lost Tripp.
Night has turned from some idea that was coming soon into solid reality. Even with my flashlight, I can barely see inches in front of me. I can make out busted street lights that give off no glow. I know that surrounding me are collapsing and fully collapsed buildings.
We need to stop, and soon. I open my mouth to say as much, but only manage to leave it hanging open. Any words in my head get stuck between my brain and voice box. At least I’m not drooling. I’m not drooling because I haven’t had a drink in a few hours.
After forever, Juliet comes to a stop.
She turns in our direction and nods to the left. “If we keep going for sanctuary, we might not make it. This place looks secure enough. Let’s clear it. Stop for the night.”
Without speaking a word, I reach for my side arm and aim it at the ground. We creep toward a three story brick building with most of the windows busted out. As the head of the line, Juliet tries the door. It opens with a long creak. She glances back at us. I nod, then we file in one by one.
It smells like mildew and lye. As if someone tried to erase the stench of death, only to make it worse. Juliet starts up a staircase to our immediate left. She shines her flashlight all the way up, craning her neck to get the best view.
“Watch the holes,” she says..
We start by clearing the top floor, and make our way down. To my relief, there is nothing. No monsters. No descendants to awaken the monsters. Just that shitty smell and silence. Juliet shines her light on a bookcase in the corner. It’s made of the same cheap wood lining the floors and the walls in this dump. But, it’s warmer than outside. And it means I can stop moving.
Juliet trudges toward the bookcase. She starts to pull it across the floor. Books thud to the ground, kicking up dust. Kiwi rushes forward.
“Wait!” she says, bending over to pick up the books. She piles them neatly in the space formerly held by the bookcase, then stands and removes the five or so remaining books on the shelf and does the same with them.
Juliet stares at her. “Do you mind if I go now?”
Kiwi waves her off and slides to the floor beside the books. With a yawn, I cross the room to help Juliet move the bookcase in front of the door. We find planks of wood and use those to hammer up to the holes in the wall the best we can. Once we’re satisfied that the place is secure enough, I plop down on the worn, rat eaten couch and close my eyes.
In front of me, Juliet’s feet whisper against the floor. Back and forth. Back and forth. She mumbles something into her wrist comm. Behind me, pages shuffle. Turn. Turn. Turn. Without opening my eyes, I pull out my canteen and take a sip of water. I let my head fall back onto the couch. It isn’t what’d I’d call comfortable, but it’s better than being on my feet.
As soon as I start to feel relaxed, images of Tripp screaming stab into my brain. Memories like bullets shoot me. Tripp screaming. Tripp being ripped apart. Eaten. I snap my eyes open and sit up straighter.
In front of me, Juliet stops and places her hands on her hips. “We’ll have to start out early in the morning. For now, eat. Rest. I have supplies and transport on the way.” She reaches over and grabs her pack, then heads up the stairs.
With a sigh, I let my gaze sweep the room. I locate my own pack, then stand up to go get it. When I yank it from the ground, something thuds out. I’m too tired to see what it is and figure it will be there in the morning.
I dig through the pack, pull out a ready-made meal, army style, and dig in without tasting, which is probably for the best. I chug a good portion of my water, then let out a belch.
Behind me, Kiwi scoffs.
I’m so tired it’s easy to ignore her. I pull out my sleeping bag and settle on the floor, leaving Kiwi the shitty couch. I am, after all, still a gentleman. I’m only laying down for a few seconds before sleep finds me and rips me into dreams.
I don’t know how long I sleep for. I don’t even know if I’m awake. I might be dreaming the sound of pages rustling. I can’t tell if my eyes are open, or I’m looking into a dream. Just inches from me, a tiny cone of light bobs up and down. I blink, or at least I think I do. Then either a real me or a dream me frowns.
I lay there for several moments trying to figure this shit out. The knowledge that I’m not dreaming that light comes swiftly, like blinds being snapped open.
I sit up in my sleeping bag.
There is a gasp.
My eyes narrow. “What the hell are you doing?”
Kiwi, who was hovered over a book, hides it behind her back like a child caught posting a questionable selfie on a social website.
I lean forward. “I asked what you’re doing.”
She shrugs. “Nothing. Go back to sleep.”
I whip the top of my sleeping bag off. I don’t like the vibe she’s giving. I mean, more than usual. “What’s behind your back?”
“Nothing.” She’s too snappy about it. Her gaze falls. Means she knows I care what she’s hiding. Means it’s not one of the books she rescued from the case. I drop to my hands and knees and scoot over to her.
She backs away on her butt. “Back off.”
“Just show me what you have.” I slip my hand around her side, trying to nab the book. She twirls, jumps to her feet, and darts across the room. I roll my eyes.
“Are you shitting me right now?” I lift myself up and follow her, hand extended. “Give it here.”
“No.” She backs into the wall.
With a smile, I reach for her arms and jerk the book away from her. I expected more of a fight. When I glance down at the book, my insides tighten with anger. It’s my journal.
“It fell out of your pack,” Kiwi says quickly.
I glare over at her. “And that explains why you’re reading my journal?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Are you shitting me?”
She says nothing. Just sways back and forth on her feet.
I hold my worn journal up in the air. “You had no right.” As I turn to head back to my sleeping bag, she hisses.
“You know, this is your fault.”
I swing back around and widen my eyes. “Say what?”
She nods, then juts her chin in the air. “You heard me.”
I tilt my head to the side and stare at her. Finally, I say, “How is it my fault that you’re snooping through my shit?”
She stalks forward and actually jabs me in the chest. “I was just trying to get to know you.”
My mouth drops open. Too many smart ass responses come to me. I can’t pick one, so I just stare at her with my mouth open.
“You think I just sleep with guys I don’t know?”
I’m still just staring. She keeps going.
“I can’t do that. Sleep with some guy I don’t know. And since you won’t talk to me, I figured this was my only option.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. This chick is off the nutter scale. I have no words.
“What’s so funny?” she says in a pointed tone.
I turn my back to her.
“You are,” I say, leaning down to tuck the journal back into my bag. I sit down on my sleeping bag. “You’re real funny.” I point at the bag. “You shouldn’t have read that.”
She sits in front of me on the bag. I raise an eyebrow. Clearly, Kiwi has no idea how to feel a room. Before I can tell her to get the hell away from me she asks, “What are all those names?”
“None of your damn business.” I point up to the couch. “Get away.”
She doesn’t budge. “And why are there three words after each name?” Her nose wrinkles. “It’s kind of creepy.”
I laugh again, this time louder. “Oh, wow. You know what I think is creepy? Yo ass.” I wave her off. “Get. Away.”
; She shakes her head. A bit of hair falls across her eye. “Not until you tell me what it means.”
I stare at her for several moments. Slowly, her full lips curl into a smile. “I can make you, you know? Furies can make people admit their deepest secrets. Their shame.” She reaches out and trails a nail down my forearm.
I hate that she makes me shiver with desire and tremble with anger at the same time. I match her smile with my own. My monster smile. The one that sends bitches running.
“And I can kill you with a whistle.” I bat her hand away. “Or worse.”
Her smile doesn’t falter. She holds up her hands. “Go ahead.”
I chuckle and shake my head. I can’t stand her, but she’s impressive.
“Look, girl. You don’t want to know what those names mean. Just let it go.”
“I don’t want to.”
I peer at her. “Why?”
She glances down. “I already told you why. I don’t know you. I don’t know why you went back to bury Tripp. Or why you care so much about Sadie.” Her gaze raises back to mine. “Are you a good guy… or are you a monster?”
There is a tenderness in her eyes that raises hairs on my arms. It makes me uncomfortable. I might like it. And I don’t think that’s good.
I lean forward and pierce her gaze with my own. “That journal… All those names… They’re people, mostly women, that I’ve killed.” My voice comes out flat and detached.
Her eyes widen. Then she slowly nods. “A… And the words under the names?”
I clear my throat. “Memories of them.”
“I don’t understand.”
I slam my hand down on the floor. She jumps.
“You don’t have to understand! Why the hell do you want to?”
For a split second she looks frightened, then her face tightens and she glares at me. “Because we’re this together, dumbass. And Tripp saw something in you. And I know Tripp was a good guy.” She sniffles and seconds later, tears run down her cheeks. “He was a good guy.”
I freeze. I don’t know what to do. So I just sit there.
At length, I nod. “Yeah, he was a good guy.” I sigh and close my eyes. “But, I’m not. I’m the monster that turned all those people into what you saw in that journal. They’re names. Just names now.”
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