Harper ignored his gaze and looked around. The kitchen was busy, with walls of cabinets made from cherry-stained wood filled with intricate ornaments, dog-eared cookbooks and index cards filled with spidery handwriting. The fridge was covered in magnets that affixed various timetables and children’s drawings. On top of the yellow laminate countertop was a chopping board with a pile of carrots. One carrot had been chopped into thin rounds, but there was no knife.
Harper looked over the yellow countertop. On the ground was a pair of shoes still attached to someone’s legs. Harper took another step and the small body of a child was revealed. The carpet around the child was stained with a large amount of dried blood, now turned a rust-brown.
Harper could hear her heart banging in her ears and apprehension roiled her stomach. Someone’s murdered them. She moved around the counter with trepidation, placing one hand on the counter for support. The small office space beyond the kitchen came fully into view. Two small bodies lay on the carpet—a boy of five, and a toddler girl with sweet, wispy hair. “They’re victims of the pandemic,” she said softly as she appraised the narrow rivulets of blood running from their noses.
“So where did all that blood come from?” asked Lukas.
Harper searched the ground and noticed rusty footprints and a knife which had been discarded under the desk. “It must have been where she did it,” she said to herself.
“Who did what?” asked Joe.
“The mother of the children tried to…” she glanced at Tomas’ sweet face, his brown eyes wide and listening to her every word, and stuttered to a stop. “The mother was very upset after her children died.” Harper could feel her heart racing again. She needed to get out of here. A cascade of memories was smashing down on her.
“How do you know?” asked Joe. Harper caught his eye and felt him boring into her soul. She felt naked, vulnerable, like he would see her deep, ugly flaws unless she moved away. She needed to put space between them. She took a step back, crossed her arms, and took a moment to compose herself.
“Sara is with the mother now. She tried to…” her eyes strayed to Tomas again. She looked back at Joe and ran the edge of one hand over the wrist of the other arm, her face burning. “I’ve got to get back to Sara. I won’t be long, I promise. Just wait in the other room. We need to help the two women.” Lukas looked at her impassively, but Joe nodded.
“We’ll wait in the other room for you,” Joe said. “Come on, Tomas. Come on, Erik, good boy.”
Harper didn’t wait and hurried back to the other room. She made it halfway up the hall before she had to stop and lean against the wall, sucking in mouthfuls of air. What was wrong with her? Was she having a panic attack, or were the memories just too heavy for her to ever put down?
She could remember every detail of that night. She had just finished high school and her father hadn’t touched her for years. But her response of fear and stress whenever he would fly into a rage was still there. That night he had come home in a terrible mood and was sullen all evening. The tension around the table was thick, and when he’d smashed his plate into the sink, Harper had slunk away from the table and hidden in her room.
With the door closed and music playing on her phone, she’d tried to tune out the noise of him pacing up and down, the creaking of floorboards under his feet. But she pulled the ear buds out after hearing a loud crash, her hands frozen as they gripped the thin white wire that curled from her phone.
There was a knock at her door, but it hadn’t been him. Her mother opened the door a crack. “Harper, what are you doing? Wasting time as usual it seems. Do something productive. I don’t want to tell your father to come in here.”
It was something so small, yet the veiled threat was loaded with years of physical torment. A heart-crushing anxiety had filled her and there seemed no way out. No escape from the darkness. She’d swallowed the pain relief pills quickly and lay on her bed, hoping for a quick end to the hollow, aching feeling in her chest. But she hadn’t died. Instead, a horrible, gut-wrenching pain had torn through her and she had vomited violently, undigested pills visible in her bile. In that desperate, pitiful moment, she had realized she didn’t want death. She wanted a way out of the dark.
“Harper,” came Sara’s voice from farther up the hallway, pulling her back to the present. “Bring some water, please.”
Harper wiped her eyes and stood up. “Coming,” she called. “I’ll just be a minute.”
Chapter Twenty
The woman in the yellow dress was staring at Harper. “Are you okay?”
Harper realized she was leaning against the wall of the bedroom as though she might collapse under the weight of her own body, her eyes trained on the woman in the bed.
“Yes, I’ll be fine.”
“You look very pale.”
“I just want to get out of here. It’s been a… a hard time.”
The woman looked at her with compassion. “I am Zuzana. My sister is Eva. I live one road back, in the forest. I have no children. Eva is my only family.” Sara smiled at Zuzana from where she sat on the end of the bed. She was holding Eva’s hand and talking to her gently.
Harper introduced herself and then tried to shrink back against the wall. She was thankful when there was a timid knock on the door. Joe was hovering in the doorway, and he looked embarrassed to be intruding. “I’m sorry to interrupt but I wondered if we would be able to leave soon?”
Sara introduced them and Zuzana spoke to Joe. “We are ready to leave. But we will need a car to transport Eva. I do not think she is well enough to ride a scooter. Eva’s husband has their car at work and…” she looked at Eva and then at the ground.
“Where is the nearest house?” asked Joe. “We can get a car and bring it here.”
“If you go back the way you came, toward the hospital—”
“I think all of those houses are burned out,” said Joe. “I can’t imagine we’ll find a useable car there. Are there any other options?”
Zuzana took a step back and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “We smelled the smoke. I haven’t seen the city yet. I have been focused on Eva. Is it bad?”
“Most people are dead,” replied Joe sadly. “Most of the city is burned or burning.”
Zuzana paused for a moment and looked at her sister. The two women stared at each other, something unspoken passing between them. Their families, their friends, their city. It was all gone. “How did this happen?” came a thin whisper from Eva. “What killed my beautiful children?”
Sara stroked her arm. “We think it must be a virus of some kind. Some people are immune. We don’t know why. The quarantine center is not far from here. I’m sure they will have more answers for us.” Harper was glad she didn’t mention terrorism or bioweapons. Eva had been through enough.
Lukas’ voice boomed from behind Joe as he said something in Slovak. The two women gasped. Harper leaned forward and saw Lukas’ bearded face twisted into a grimace.
“Is it true?” asked Zuzana. “Did someone do this deliberately?”
“We don’t know that. Lukas, what gives?” Joe turned to the man behind him and Harper caught a glimpse of the fury on his face.
“I merely told them it was a possibility,” said Lukas, his pale eyes flashing.
“We don’t have time for this,” said Joe, clearly exasperated. “Zuzana, where else can we get a car?”
“Try further up the road. Eva’s neighbor’s car should be in their yard. They are an older couple. They were probably home. Thank you, Joe. Thank you so much.”
“I’ll come,” said Harper quickly. She glanced at Eva’s bandaged wrists and felt her stomach tighten uncomfortably. I need to get out of here.
Joe gave her a grateful look and she followed him down the hall. They paused in the living room and she looked around, a seed of worry worming into her head. “Where are Tomas and Erik?”
“He’ll be here somewhere,” replied Joe. “I’ll check the kitchen. Hey, Tomas,” he called ou
t. As they neared the yellow laminate countertop, the top of the little boy’s back could be seen beyond the discarded carrots. Erik lay by his feet and they were both staring at the dead children.
Harper crouched down beside the boy, her hand resting on Erik’s head. She scratched the top of his head and stroked his floppy ears. The dog turned and pressed his wet nose against her. She put her other hand on Tomas’ shoulder. “Hey buddy, what are you doing?”
“Erik came here. I think he is hungry. I did not want to be alone, so I followed him.” The boy shrugged and then cast a furtive glance at the children on the bloodstained carpet. He looked away, his eyes level with the counter top.
“It’s tough seeing this death all around, isn’t it?”
“That little boy looks like me. He is the same size. The girl is like my little brother.”
Harper wrapped her arms around him and ushered him in the other direction. “Come back to the living room,” she said. “I’ll get you both something to eat. Joe and I are going to find a car and then we’ll finally get out of here.” She looked at Joe. “Can you take them? I’ll just be a minute.”
Joe smiled his handsome, crooked smile and reached his hand out to Tomas. “Come on, buddy.”
She opened the fridge and saw the light was out, and the contents were warming. Something inside smelled bad. She shut the fridge quickly and turned to the cupboard to the side of the counter. The tiny shoes were visible again, and she choked back a sob. How the fuck was she doing something as mundane as preparing a snack for a kid, with two dead children only a couple of feet from her?
She scrubbed at the tears in her eyes roughly, but she couldn’t stop them and soon they were falling freely down her cheeks. She cried for Wolf, for Eva’s children, for the entire dead, burned city of Bratislava. It was cathartic, and after a few moments she was able to continue.
She turned back to the cupboard and found a package of golden-brown, spiced cookies. She could smell the cinnamon and ginger through the plastic and her stomach clenched uncomfortably. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She found a clean glass on a low shelf, filled it with water twice, draining the glass each time, then half-filled it once more for Tomas. Then she took a deep breath, centered herself, and carried the snack into the living room.
Lukas had returned and was sitting on the second overstuffed sofa, deep in conversation with Tomas. The little boy thanked her for the cookies and water and settled back into conversation with Lukas.
Erik jumped up and sniffed at the packet of cookies and Harper noticed Lukas lean back with an uncomfortable look on his face. “The dog won’t hurt you,” she said, forcing a smile.
Lukas raised one eyebrow. “I prefer to keep my distance,” he said. “I do not like dogs and usually the feeling is mutual.”
Harper smiled again and realized her face was hurting from the effort. “Let’s go,” she said to Joe. They were outside and hurrying toward the scooters, when Harper noticed the look on Joe’s face. “Everything okay?”
“That guy. He just makes me so uncomfortable.”
“Lukas?”
“Yeah.”
“Tomas seems pretty happy with him. Kids and dogs are usually a good judge of character.”
“Yeah, and Erik doesn’t like him—Lukas said so himself. He’s a smart dog.”
Harper smiled, for real this time, and punched Joe gently in the arm. He put his arm around her and pulled her in tightly. When he let go, he had tears in his eyes.
“We’ll get out of here soon,” she said softly. “It’s all going to be over soon.”
“Those kids back there. The mom. Can you imagine how she felt just watching them die in front of her?” Joe’s voice was thick. “I would want to kill myself too, if they were my kids.”
Harper thought of Wolf, of all the other hundreds of thousands of dead in the city and her chest hurt so badly she could barely take a breath. She could see that Joe felt the same, could see the pain on his face. He always felt things so deeply. She looked away, her eyes on the hazy horizon. She could smell the remnants of the fire as they slowly burned down to ash. “Let’s go,” she said, and she slipped her hand into Joe’s.
Joe climbed on to the silver scooter and slid forward so Harper could climb on behind him. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and rested her head on his back. They drove up the road in the direction they were headed before she saw Zuzana’s yellow dress, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment of respite. The loud hum of the scooter’s engine drowned out all other noise. It felt like they were the only ones left in the world.
About a quarter mile up the road they came to a small brick home with a red tile roof and an old, olive green Volkswagen Beetle in the driveway. Joe stopped the scooter at the top of the drive and they walked down the steep gravel driveway to the small house. A dense beech forest towered above them on every side of the block.
“We need to find the key to the car,” said Joe. He glanced over his shoulder. “I feel like our time is running out.”
“I feel it too,” she replied. “Let’s get the key and get out of here as soon as possible.”
Joe tried the front door and it was unlocked. He pushed it open.
Inside it was eerily quiet and dark, with only a little light filtering through the drawn curtains. The front room was empty and Harper was grateful not to see more bodies. “There’s a key on the hallway stand,” she said to Joe, picking up the cluster of keys on a metal ring. “I’ll drive, you take the scooter.”
He turned around to face her and put both hands on her shoulders. “Harper, I—” But he stopped, words seeming to fail him as they locked eyes. His eyebrows were pulled apart, jaw slack, and he slowly shook his head from side to side. Harper felt her stomach flip and she stiffened as he leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth. Then, she felt herself kissing him back, desperately, pulling him toward her, and raking her fingers down his back. The kiss was long, and deep, and she was falling into an abyss. She pushed him away and turned sideways, one hand on the hallstand, trying to calm her ragged breathing.
He traced a finger up and down her spine. “Why did we never happen?”
“I don’t know…”
“Before we met Wolf. You knew how I felt about you.”
“You’re too good for me, Joe.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Not now, please.” She scrubbed desperately at her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Harper,” said Joe. She glanced up and saw his face reflected in the ornate, gold-framed mirror that rested on the hallstand.
“It’s okay,” she replied, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Joe subconsciously mirrored her action.
“I fucking love you, Harper.”
“I love you too, Joe…” her voice cracked and she couldn’t continue. She dropped her eyes and took several deep breaths. When she looked up, Joe’s eyes were rimmed in red. In the shadowy depths of the hallway, reflected in the mirror, he looked like a gothic painting.
“You deserve to be loved. I know what happened when you were a child made you feel unworthy. But you deserve to be loved.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“One of the hardest things to admit is that you weren’t loved when you needed it. The pain of not being loved… it stays with you.”
He was right, of course.
“Let’s go,” she whispered. She turned to face him and he pulled her into a tight embrace. She felt his fleeting kiss on the side of her face.
Outside, it was blindingly bright and she squinted into the sunlight. “I’ll see you back at Zuzana’s.”
“See you there. Drive safe.” So much was left unsaid in the silence that followed, but neither of them had the words.
She opened the door of the Beetle with a loud creak and slid inside. She found the right key and started the engine. It spluttered for a moment and then coughed to life. She flashed Joe a thumbs up and reversed slowly up the dri
veway, the tires crunching on the gravel.
Chapter Twenty-One
They drove in convoy through the forested back roads. Lukas led the way. Joe and Sara took the remaining scooters, and Harper drove the Beetle. She’d placed her backpack on the floor of the seat behind her. They’d filled several bottles with water and taken all the non-perishable snacks from the kitchen.
Eva sat next to Harper in the passenger seat, her head slumped against the window, staring outside. Her bandaged hands were crossed in her lap. Joe and Lukas had to carry her to the car after she fainted as they prepared to leave. Harper wasn’t sure if it was due to blood loss, or the devastating loss of her children, although she suspected the latter. It was as though Eva had a deep, festering, open wound and her desperate sadness was leeching the life from her.
Behind Harper, Zuzana sat next to Tomas. Zuzana had bonded instantly with the boy and she chatted to him in Slovak on the back seat. She had a soft, motherly temperament that made Harper feel at ease. Erik was by the boy’s side, his nose to the window that had been cracked open, his floppy ears flying behind him in the tailwind.
A wall of green beech trees and silver firs rose on either side of them, and the road was uneven and potholed. The Beetle had to be at least thirty years old and it bumped and creaked as they traveled over the undulating forest road.
“Did you grow up around here?” asked Harper, looking at Zuzana in the rear-view mirror. It’s the end of the world, and I still feel the need to make polite conversation.
“I did,” replied Zuzana. “I have always lived in Bratislava. It is a beautiful city filled with so much history.” They both glanced through the front windscreen at the smoky haze that had settled over the horizon.
“My father was born here,” Harper said. “But he grew up in a city to the east.” They went over a deep pothole and the car lurched. Eva bounced in her seat like a doll, her limbs flailing, before resting her head against the glass once more.
“And what about you, dear?”
Death City: A Post-Apocalyptic Adventure (Dark Resistance Book 1) Page 14