The World Without Crows

by Ben Lyle Bedard

  While they waited, Eric sat beside Sarah who was quiet. Birdie, as usual, said nothing. Eric noticed Birdie had begun to hold Sarah's hand and was annoyed at the pang of jealousy he felt. Perhaps those ladies had been right, Eric thought. Maybe little girls needed women, not a fat little boy.

  Sarah too had been quiet. Her eyes were darkly ringed.

  "What is today?" she asked suddenly. Eric took off his backpack and found his calendar.

  "The fourth of June."

  "Oh."

  Eric could think of only one more thing to add. “Monday,” he informed her.

  They listened to the wind in the grass.

  _

  On the first night, they camped in a golf course, under a maple tree. Brad dug a pit for the fire while Sarah put on the water to boil. They was not much food. For dinner they shared a can of beans. The four of them sat and watched the dark night sky. The stars glittered overhead like a handful of gems tossed into the sky. None of them had ever seen so many stars. Suddenly Brad made a hissing sound and pointed.

  Not more than a mile or two distant, another fire flickered in the darkness. They eagerly took turns with the binoculars.

  "There's three of them," Brad said. "Two men and a woman, I think."

  Sarah took the binoculars and put them to her eyes. "They're avoiding the roads, like us."

  "Mmm," said Brad with suspicion.

  "I wonder where they're going?" asked Eric.

  "Timbuktu for all I give a shit," muttered Brad. "I'm not ready to go announcing ourselves like we did last time. That didn't turn out too fucking well, did it?"

  The rest of them were silent and crept back nearer the fire. Brad stood where he was with his binoculars on them.

  Sarah and Birdie crawled into the tent, leaving Eric to watch the stars. The stars had lost their luster to him.

  _

  Sarah woke Eric. "Have you seen Birdie?" she asked.

  "What?" he asked. Then he came awake. "Is she missing?" He got up out of his tent into the cold morning.

  "She wasn't here when I woke up," Sarah said guiltily.

  "Well, why wasn't she?" Eric asked, but he wasn't paying attention to either what she was saying or what he was saying. He scanned the overgrown golf course. And then, in the distance, under an oak tree, he saw a flutter of red. Without saying anything to Sarah, Eric waded through the wet grass down to the tree.

  Birdie sat under the tree with her knees in her arms. She was crying. Eric sat down next to her. He went to put his arm around her, but she flinched away, and, hurt, he took his arm away. Swallowing, Eric turned away from Birdie. There were about twenty deer down below, feeding on the early morning grass. They didn't seem to care that the world was ended. It occurred to Eric that for the deer, the world had not ended. It was reborn.

  Eric let Birdie cry for a while as he watched the deer graze. Then he tried again. "What's wrong, Birdie?"

  "Nothing," she muttered.

  "I wish you wouldn't walk off by yourself," he said. "You make us very worried for you."

  "I can take care of myself," she said. And then she sobbed again and started to cry anew.

  "Do you miss the people at the farm?" asked Eric.

  Birdie shook her head. She wiped her nose wetly and then turned to him. "Do you hate me now?"

  "No!" he blurted. "Of course not Birdie! Why would you think that?"

  "Because I left you," she said. "When Carl Doyle came for you, I ran away. I left you alone! You'd never do that to me!" Her face contorted in misery and a painful sob shook her whole body.

  "Birdie," Eric said. He put his arm around her. Her body was stiff with guilt. "Listen," he said to her. "I don't blame you for running. I always want you to take care of yourself, okay?"

  "You're not mad?"

  "No way," Eric said. "You need to look after yourself. I'll help as best I can, but sometimes Birdie, you're going to have to run. I'm glad you run. You did the right thing. It's okay to leave me, Birdie. The most important thing is that you’re safe."

  "You don't hate me?"

  "No, never," Eric vowed.

  Birdie nodded.

  "Do you feel better now?" asked Eric. Birdie nodded. Eric wiped her face with his shirt sleeve. Then Birdie stood up and when Eric did too, she took his hand.

  As they walked back to the campsite, Brad met them halfway.

  "I think they've already left their campsite," he said.

  "Who?"

  "The other people, idiot," he said, his eyebrows low in irritation. "We have to move fast and get out of here."

  In a hurry, the four of them broke camp. Brad kept in back of them now, always scanning for the others. As they moved east, they scattered the browsing deer, who leapt away and then, from a distance, stared at them with their cautious black eyes.

  _

  June was beautiful. The sun was out and shining brightly through clear blue skies. The trees were green and full and flowers were coming up everywhere. The air was brisk and clean. They saw deer and hawks, and once, a sly, red fox darted over a hill. Birds sang in the trees, as if celebrating a much wider and more welcoming world than the one they had left last fall. If it wasn't for the group behind them and the likelihood of being chased down by the Snakes, it would have been a wonderful day.

  They came across a few houses, but they were empty of supplies. Being close to the interstate, they had been raided first. The hunger was beginning to make an impact on them. Eric felt sick from it and Sarah had grown sullen. Birdie was even more quiet than usual and Brad, even more irritable.

  "Goddamn it," he said, his eyes to his binoculars. "I can't see them." The group behind them had become his obsession. "They were at that house last time I saw. Now they're fucking hiding or something."

  Eric didn't know what to feel about the group behind them. He had watched them in his binoculars. To him, they seemed much like themselves: alone, scared, trying to stay hidden. He did not find them as threatening as Brad did.

  That night they went without food. Their stomachs twisted in their bodies and they rested fitfully. The stars were glorious above them, but no one noticed.

  _

  "We have to do something!" Sarah insisted. "We haven't eaten in two days!"

  "Don't exaggerate," Brad hissed. "We had breakfast yesterday morning."

  They were stopped at a golf course. In the distance, to the east, was the town of Warren, Ohio. Smoke rose from it lazily, peacefully. Eric knew that beneath the illusion of calm, Warren was full of Snakes and Zombies, perhaps some that had cracked and gone crazy. Sarah and Brad were arguing over whether or not to enter the town to search for supplies.

  "What're we going to do?" Sarah asked. "Start eating grass like deer?"

  Brad scratched his head. "Warren is crawling with Snakes," he said. "I don't know what's going to be left."

  "We need to take a chance," Eric spoke up. "We're hungry. It has to be done."

  "We could fish for food," Brad said, pointing at the river which ran by the golf course.

  "I left my fishing gear at Cuyahoga!" cried Sarah. "I already told you that!"

  "We can fish with spears!" exclaimed Brad.

  "Now you're being ridiculous!"

  Eric stood up. "Quiet," he said. The rest of them hushed instantly. In the distance, a sound gathered. At first it sounded like running water, but then it grew. It was a vehicle. They ducked down under some bushes and crawled to the edge where they could see the road. Brad fumbled out his binoculars and put them to his eyes. "Shit," he swore. "Goddamn it."

  "What?" Eric took the binoculars to look. When the vehicle came into focus, his heart fell. It was the Land Rover.

  "I thought that asshole was dead." Brad rolled over on his back. "Just what we need!"

  "Who is it?" Sarah snatched away the binoculars and focused them. "Oh no," she breathed. "No, no." She dropped her head into her arms.

  "Okay," Brad said. "You're right. We need supplies. We need to go to Warren."

 
They crawled out from under the bushes to find they were no longer alone.

  _

  The man’s name was John Martin and the two others, brother and sister, were Sergio and Lucia Perez Rivera. These were the people who had been following them. John Martin was a tall, black man. Although he was not bulky, his slight frame seemed powerful. His long face and powerful jaw gave him a solemn look, and his thoughtful eyes glowed with sympathy. The two others were brother and sister. Lucia, the oldest, was only slightly taller. She was beautiful and sleek, reminding Eric of a cat. Her eyes were intense and lit with intelligence. Her younger brother stood near her. His round face was unblemished and youthful and his eyes were nervous and uncertain. If his sister was a cat, Sergio was a rabbit, constantly searching the sky for any sign of hawk, the bushes for sign of wolf.

  They too had been watching them. Since they looked harmless, they decided to make contact. It was strained at first, but when the new group offered to cook them rice and beans, the mood soon changed. Soon the four of them were spooning the food in their mouths with little regard for manners.

  The new group were all from Cleveland. John Martin said that the city got steadily worse after the Vaca B struck. Toward the end, the military was shooting everyone on the streets. When the gangs rose, fighting soon broke out over quickly dwindling resources of food, cigarettes, and alcohol. John Martin had found the brother and sister, Sergio and Lucia, in a warehouse where they were being attacked by a gang called the 7-Outlaws.

  "They wanted to punish us for burning down our house," said Sergio.

  "We burned down our house after our family died," Lucia explained. She was wildly beautiful, and Eric could not look at her comfortably. "The fire got out of hand," Lucia continued. "We didn't mean to, but we burned down a few blocks. The 7-Outlaws were hanging people who started fires and carving the letter A in their foreheads." She made a wry smile. "Justice," she said. "If it hadn't been for John, we wouldn't be here now."

  "Well, maybe so," said John Martin. His movements were measured, and his eyes, careful and probing. "Anyway, I got them away. They lived in my basement for the winter."

  "That's when we made plans," said Sergio. "We're going to upstate New York. Our uncle lived there."

  "Maybe he still does," added Lucia, her eyes flashing toward her brother.

  Sergio shrugged. "My uncle told us the land is very good."

  "We're going to start again," added Lucia.

  "That's what we're doing," Brad said. Surprisingly, it was Brad who trusted them first. He outlined their plans as quickly as he could, how they would hop from state park to state park, avoiding gangs and cities as much as they could, and hike all the way to an island in Maine. "It's his idea," Brad said, pointing at Eric. "He planned it out. He's the smart one."

  Eric blushed and couldn't think of anything to say, except timidly, to Lucia, "I burned my house down too." Lucia looked at him in the way most women looked at him, like a child who hadn't been raised right and was now irrevocably damaged. Eric blushed even more hotly. "I think we can get to Maine by September," he added.

  "Why Maine?" asked John Martin.

  Eric explained his idea about the island and winter. The three newcomers listened with growing interest. They glanced at each other. "It's a good idea," Sergio said, with some reluctance. John Martin nodded, but Lucia sat, back straight and severe, studying the four of them with glittering eyes.

  Sarah, who had remained silent, spoke up. "We should tell them about Carl Doyle." Without waiting, she told them the history. "So," she finished, "he might come for us. He's dangerous." The others were silent for a second.

  "I've seen him," John Martin said. "Several times, driving back and forth in that Land Rover of his. I seen him get out once, shoot down a few Zombies, and then get back in the truck like it was nothing. I don't like the looks of him."

  John Martin nodded his head at the other two and then all three walked away together. Eric watched as they quietly conferred. When they came back, John Martin held out his hand to Brad. "If you don't mind," he said. "We'd like to share the road with you for a while, at least as far as New York." Brad looked at the others. Eric and Sarah nodded.

  Brad shook John's hand.

  "Glad to have you," Brad said, with a smile.

  "Now, first things first," John Martin said. "We need food." He looked off to the north and east. "We got to go in there."

  “There” was the town of Warren, Ohio, with its wisps of gray smoke, like the hair of an old man, falling from the sky.

  _

  They went to the north of the city, hiking wide of the airport, across a junk-strewn highway, which they scuttled across like rats, and then across a railroad to a road, behind which they could see a block of houses. To the south was the rest of Warren. From somewhere in the city came the sound of rock music, but it was too far away to say exactly what the tune was. "The Snakes," Brad said knowingly. "We always played music loud."

  John Martin said the houses here, away from the city, might be safer from gangs but not from Zombies. "Every large center has Zombies," he said. "And where there's smoke, there's fire," he said. "There’s bound to be some cracked ones too."

  "Unless the Snakes cleared them out," Brad said. "That's what they usually do. They go into a new place and just drive around for a couple weeks, shooting anything that moves."

  "Maybe," said John. "But be careful anyway."

  "We have to be careful," Lucia agreed. "We can't afford to think there's no danger. That's how people get killed."

  Brad blushed. "I didn't mean not to be careful," he said. "Of course we should be careful."

  "I know," said John Martin.

  Crouching with Birdie on his right and Sarah on his left, Eric was conflicted. A part of him felt he should be near to John Martin and Brad and Lucia. He should be consulted. But he also didn't want the responsibility. He would be happy to follow John Martin's instructions. Or Brad's. Or Lucia's. By Sarah's silence, Eric imagined she felt the same way.

  "We should go tomorrow," said Lucia. "It's getting dark."

  It was true. The shadows were stretching long across the ground. John Martin had just suggested they camp back at a shack they had passed earlier when they heard the truck.

  The seven of them ducked down to the ground, beneath bushes, and waited.

  It was the Land Rover. It drove by them slowly, its headlights on, and though he was too hidden to see, Eric imagined Carl Doyle searching for them along the road. When he had vanished toward the center of Warren, the group hiked quickly back through the dusk to the railroad track.

  They dug a pit to hide the light of the fire. But the last of all their food was only enough to leave them wanting more. Sitting by the fire with Birdie next to him, leaning against his leg, Eric watched the others talk. Brad had already struck up a friendship with John. Sergio talked to Sarah, with Lucia next to him, quiet and contemplative. Eric was uncomfortable how quickly it had happened. They were all friends so fast. It made him nervous.

  6

  __________

  Pymatuning State Park

  THE NEXT DAY DAWNED clear and brisk. The wind sliced into them. Eric woke up miserable, having slept badly the night before. He dreamt he stood at the edge of a hole. He had to decide either to jump into the hole or be pushed into it. The hole was only as large as his body, and he knew when he fell in, he would scrape the sides all the way down until he became wedged deep below. He would stay there until he died of thirst, clawing at the smooth side until his fingers were bloody. He stood at the edge and could not decide.

  Eric had a hard time waking Birdie. She groaned when she finally rose. There were large, black circles under her eyes, and she walked as if she were carrying some great weight. She needed food. Eric felt something like fear and anger both inside him. It was an uncomfortable, evil mixture. He didn't talk to anyone as he took her hand. Without anything but a cup of water for their empty stomachs, they began to hike north.

  On the w
ay, the group outlined in hopeful terms what they needed. Cans of food, rice, good flour if they could find it, bags of popcorn, and pasta. Sarah also said they needed to find a Sears if they could, where they could find some fishing supplies and some more camping supplies to replace their own. The others seemed more excited than frightened about the prospects of Warren. Eric felt nervous and fearful. Yet he felt a fury he did not understand. He didn't mention it, but he knew what he would be looking for today. A gun.

  They agreed to break up into groups. John, Sarah, and Lucia made one. Brad, Sergio, Eric, and Birdie made up the other. As they were making groups, Lucia came up to Birdie and crouched down in front of her. "Do you want to come with us?" she asked her. Eric felt a burst of protective anger. She too thought that Eric was not good enough to take care of Birdie. He was about to snap at her, beautiful or not, but Birdie spoke up.

  "No," she said. "Eric take cares of me, not you."

  It was very blunt. Lucia blinked in surprise and then smiled awkwardly. "Okay," she said. She looked at Eric once, but he couldn't read the look she gave him. Was it apologetic? Doubtful? Distrustful? Whatever it was, Eric squeezed Birdie's hand.

  One group was to go down one side of the street. The other searched the opposite side. When they reached the end of the street, they would begin another. When they found what they needed, they agreed to stop together, as a group, and find a Sears.

  With plans made, they emerged from the roadside and walked into town.