“Was he bitten?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. He didn’t say anything about it if he had been.”
Haven stared at the sand. “My grandma was bitten. She was going to turn. I could see it in her eyes, her skin... Watching somebody you love erode in front of you, knowing that what’s coming next is inevitable...”
“That must have been rough,” he replied.
Several minutes passed before anything else was spoken.
Haven felt tears welling up in her eyes again. “I’m tired of being hunted. How much longer until I can’t protect my family anymore?”
“You’ve gotten them this far. You beat the odds. How many people in your neighborhood are still alive? In your town? From the looks of it, the whole flesh-eating lot of them decided to camp out in your backyard.” Colin drew his knees up to his chest and locked his hands around his neck. “I’m tired of thinking I’m the last person on this God-forsaken continent who doesn’t want to eat someone else.” He cast a sideways glance at her.
“Looks like you got your wish. Clearly you’re not.” She paused. “How do you know it’s not some kind of global pandemic? What makes you think it’s only here in the States?”
“It just sounds like something that disease center—”
“The CDC?” Haven interjected.
“Yes, that place. It just seems like this virus is something they would cook up and then accidentally release to the public. Think about it. They store all kinds of old lethal shit in there. Small pox, influenza, the whole bloody works.”
“Doubtful. The CDC isn’t the only place in the world that holds diseases like that. There are doctors and scientists studying these things on an international scale. I’m sure the equivalent exists in Scotland. But I disagree with you. My theory is terrorism.”
“What makes you say that?” Colin asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s just a hunch. I was a political science major in undergrad. When I took ‘International Relations’ with Professor Harrison, we spent a lengthy amount of time on WMDs. ‘Weapons of mass destruction.’ If it was released from the CDC, how has it spread so quickly from one side of the continent to the other? From what I’ve seen on the news, it’s happening all over, on the west coast, too.”
“Never thought about it that way. Then again, I never went to college, so I guess I missed that course.”
A cold wind blew over them. Haven shivered. “It’s not fair, families torn apart like this.”
“Hey, at least you have some of yours left. That’s a plus, right? It’s just me out here. My dad’s gone. And unless planes start flying again or I decide to swim across the Atlantic, I probably won’t see anyone else I know again for a long time, if ever. You should be grateful you still have them.”
After a long time, Haven took a deep breath and sat up straight, tying her hair back into a ponytail. She turned to him and reached out to shake his hand. “Thank you for what you did back there. We wouldn’t have made it out of that canoe without your help.”
Colin shook it warmly. “Eh, it was a nice, boring day on the lake. Fish weren’t biting. Nothing better to do.” He smiled at her.
Haven managed to return a small grin. “So, how long have you been here?” She gestured to the house behind them.
“A few days.”
“And no zombies?” She seemed surprised.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I was skinny-dip—err... bathing one night, and a whole lot of them shambled up to the shore. I think they’d been hunting me down for a while.”
Haven was intrigued. “How did you get rid of them?”
He pointed to their left at the cypress trees. “See those very inviting-looking roots over yonder?” She nodded. “I hid in them.”
“Ahhh... clever. Well done,” she murmured, complimenting him in earnest.
“I could say the same about your moves. You put up a good fight. Your family’s lucky to have you.”
Haven crossed her arms and rested her head on them. “I wish I could do more.”
“You’re doing the best you can,” Colin assured her gently. It was nice to have someone to talk to.
She was quiet again for some time. Her dark eyes bore into the sand. “I’m going to kill them all if I have to,” she said through clenched teeth, shoving the pocket knife into her boot.
In that moment, he believed her. “Make sure you invite me if you do. I’m pretty impressive with my sword.” Realizing how the latter statement could be taken the wrong way, he quickly added, “You know, if you ever need a back-up.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. He didn’t want her to think he was some pervert.
This girl wasn’t like the rest he had known. His usual charm laced with double entendres and sexually-charged insinuations wouldn’t impress her. Even though he hadn’t meant anything by it, and he hardly knew her, he still didn’t want her to think poorly of him. She was intriguing, mysterious, and pretty bloody hot. Already, he wanted Haven’s friendship. And if something more than friendship happened to transpire, well, then so be it.
Chapter 24:
Houston crouched down behind two dumpsters at the edge of Petersburg, his M1911 ready at his side.
Truthfully, he wasn’t really that scared. After being attacked by an undead tent-shrouded camper and waking up face-to-face with a pack of zombie-hikers, he didn’t think he could top that fear factor with anything else.
He peered around the corner of the green dumpster. There was a smattering of zombies milling about several yards away from the closest building, a laundromat.
Houston pondered his situation for a few moments. He wasn’t going to find anything of use in the laundromat. Knowing this, he needed to figure out a way to get around that building to find a store with more useful wares and goods.
In a low crouch, he ran a short distance to the back of the laundromat.
There were a couple of vending machines at the side of the structure, but even if he’d had some quarters—which he didn’t—to pop into the hefty contraptions, the mere sound of the food tumbling to the dispenser would be enough to shine a spotlight on him for the zombies.
He chanced a look around the vending machines. A Super Dollar jutted out from behind thick oak trees on the other side of the parking lot. Huge windows advertised various items at unbeatable prices. Most of it was food.
He had never been to a Super Dollar before, but he figured that he couldn’t have found a better place to pick up some supplies for the two of them, maybe even snag a doggie treat for Tex if he had a chance.
Still, he had to take things one step at a time. He couldn’t forget that unknown dangers potentially lurked at every turn.
He estimated that he had a good twenty yards to run before he reached the Super Dollar. Considering that he would probably attract every creature’s attention by the time he reached the doors, he would then have maybe ten seconds to get in before the closest of the zombies got to him. He prayed that the doors were unlocked. While he had no problem breaking the glass to get the food, he preferred to leave a slight barrier between him and his undead friends while he shopped.
Taking a deep breath, he exhaled and ran with all his might across the parking lot, his legs carrying him as fast as they did when he served as captain of the soccer team in college.
He skidded to a stop in front of the glass doors and glanced over his shoulder as he reached for the handle. Sure enough, he’d gotten the attention of the zombies in the vicinity. Already, they shuffled towards him eagerly, alerting others that he was nearby with their tortured moans.
He grimaced and pushed the doors firmly. They swung open suddenly, surprising him for a moment as he flew forward, his body unprepared for the ease of movement.
Catching himself before he fell, his fingers grabbed the lock and turned it. The glass wouldn’t hold forever if the zombies’ numbers grew, but for now, he’d bought himself a little time. He froze for a moment, his ears straining to hear eve
n the faintest sound.
Much to his relief, the store was silent and free of any unpleasant odors. Except for some overturned carts near the front, it didn’t look like the store had been raided. He didn’t have time to waste and immediately began piling items into the nearly empty backpack. He tried to find food that was packed with protein and carbs so that he would have the energy needed to plow through the remaining miles of the journey.
Unfortunately, the Slim Jim beef jerky boxes near the registers were empty. He scanned the areas in front of the cash registers just as the pounding commenced at the doors. Ignoring it, he threw Snickers bars, Milky Ways, Mounds, Starbursts, and other sugary snacks into the bag. As he moved hurriedly through the aisles, he discovered a couple of bags of yogurt-covered pretzels and trail mix. He added them to his stash. There were also some boxes of Little Debbie snacks left, and so he tore them open and emptied the contents into the backpack to save space. He passed on the white cheddar popcorn, one of his favorite treats, with a great sigh because it would take up too much room in its puffy aluminum packaging. He also ignored the refrigerated aisles as their contents had long since spoiled.
He was pleasantly surprised to have so many choices considering that most of the establishments he’d seen since leaving his apartment had been thoroughly ransacked. Being a little town off the highway, Petersburg seemed to have averted most of the looting and vandalizing that had taken place in the cities following the chaos of the outbreak.
“Man, I would have loved this place pre-zombies. So many choices, so little time,” he said to himself as he stuffed a few bottles of water into his bag.
The backpack was getting heavy. Houston was about to grab a rawhide bone for Texaco when he heard the glass in the front shatter.
He crouched behind the aisle and held his breath.
Dozens of ghouls pulled themselves over the glass, those behind them wetly smashing their counterparts against the sharp edges as they struggled around one another to cross into the Super Dollar.
Their moans echoed loudly in the store. They wandered about with purpose, edging around the registers and aisles to look for him. He wondered if they could smell him. In spite of the cold air blowing into the room, Houston felt sweat prickle around his neck. He knew he had to make a run for it or risk being trapped.
He checked his gun and slowly rose to his feet. Only a couple of yards away, a zombie lolled lazily from side to side, its body moving sloppily along the aisle like a drunkard as it emitted a low groan.
Its eyes locked on to Houston, and raising its arms in his direction, its steps became purposeful and determined.
Houston fired a single shot to its head, spewing brain matter all over the section of paper towels and toilet paper. Without waiting to see the consequences of the noise of the gunshot, he turned and ran to the back of the store. He heard banging as he rushed past the manager’s office, blood oozing out from under the closed door. Darkness enveloped him for a moment until he finally collided against a metal door handle. He pushed it quickly, frowning when it didn’t open immediately. Something was pressing on the door from the other side. He felt his heart thud wildly in his chest, and he feared he was surrounded on all sides. Moans carried down the dark hallway until he could feel the vibrations of countless feet shuffling across the linoleum as the monsters pursued their prey.
He threw his shoulder into the door forcefully, and it gave way to the outside. A corpse in a Super Dollar apron rolled away from the entrance, collapsing in a heap off the steps. Houston ran past it, towards the safety of the forest. He could hear them following him as he raced up the hill to Texaco, digging his fingers into the dirt to keep from tumbling down the steep hillside and into their hungry clutches.
Many of the zombies had made it to the bottom of the hill and attempted to ascend, but the nearly vertical incline was almost impossible for them to traverse. They would stagger upwards a few feet before they slipped, causing them to fall flat on their faces as they slid down to the bottom. Some of them followed Houston with their eyes, staggering along parallel to the base of the hill as they searched for a new way to get to him.
Texaco’s tail swished back and forth furiously when he approached. He untied the rope fastened to the dog and tossed it into the backpack. Looking back one last time at the valley below them, Houston decided that they needed to step it up a bit if they didn’t want to be lunch for the ravenous residents of Petersburg. The zombies now had them in their sights and would be relentlessly pursuing their trail for days to come.
***
The next two weeks passed without incident. All of them were grateful for the reprieve, a chance to recuperate from the tragedies of the days before. Colin kept things running while the family worked through their grief. He wished that he had been able to do the same when his father as he knew him had passed.
Brett tried his best to be supportive of his sisters. He spent most of his days making improvements to their dwelling, standing guard alone or with Haven and Colin, or cleaning his Glock. He noted that Colin had a certain effect on Haven, one that soothed her, and he was glad for their blossoming friendship. Colin liked the young man, found him calm, rational, and extremely resourceful. While he was closest to Haven, he was grateful to not be the only man in a group of emotional women.
Faith mostly kept to herself. She tended to spend long afternoons sitting on the end of the dock, looking out over the sparkling water. Haven usually ignored her unless she needed help with something. Every now and again, Colin saw her praying quietly and once heard the younger girl ask for forgiveness. He wasn’t sure what that was about, but he tried to cheer her up with the occasional joke and light humor typical of his character. He thought her to be sweet and kind, a gentle spirit, but he could see that she was very upset over something unknown to him. He assumed that it was just part of the grieving process of losing so much of her former life.
In the first days following their rescue, Colin fished in the early mornings and late evenings, sitting quietly on the beach with a fishing rod. He kept his catches in plastic grocery bags anchored to the dock so that they remained fresh in lieu of not having a refrigerator.
Haven began to join him as time passed, and the two would share stories of their childhood, near-death experiences since the outbreak, and dreams and aspirations for their futures.
He had been impressed that she was in the process of starting a career with the FBI. The agency was well-known across the world, and Colin always enjoyed the television shows and movies that depicted the FBI in all of its glory, accurate or not. He didn’t doubt that Haven would fit right in with them if things ever returned to a semblance of normalcy again. But even more impressive than her desire to become an agent was the fact that while her world was falling apart, her dreams had not entirely crumbled with it.
One night after dinner, he asked her if she was afraid of the new world in which they lived.
She stared at the sand for a while before answering. “I’m not scared of those... things. Maybe I was at first, but I got over it quickly. You don’t have a choice because they’re everywhere.” She paused, her voice catching. “I’m scared of losing everyone I cherish. Without them to share life’s precious moments, I’d feel like my existence, my reason for living, would be a waste. It’s terrifying. It keeps me up at night. It haunts me,” she whispered finally. “I have these horrible dreams where I wake up in the middle of the forest. There’s blood and gore everywhere. My eyes adjust to the darkness, and I start to see forms, shapes coming out of the darkness. I don’t recognize them at first because their faces are torn and unrecognizable. The moon comes out from behind the clouds, and it’s my family. They come for me, and I can’t fight them. I don’t want to. I just want to die because there’s nothing worth living for after that.” Haven looked up at him, her face pale.
“You won’t be alone,” Colin reassured her gently. “You’ve got a tough, capable family. You’ve got a brave Scot on your side, as well. That certai
nly puts the odds in your favor, doesn’t it?”
She smiled at him gratefully. “What about you?” she asked a few minutes later.
Colin shrugged. “I’ve always been alone, since I was seventeen basically. I mean, I guess I had some type of companionship, but, well, you know... It was nothing long-lasting or anything. I wasn’t too close to my parents, and they were the only family I had. I should have come home more often, made more of an effort, but I couldn’t. So for the past decade or two, I’ve traveled the world, mostly alone, meeting people as I went along. It never really bothered me until I came here, and the world went to hell.” He glanced at her. “I’m really happy I found you and your family. It’s nice to be a part of something, to be needed, you know? I didn’t know I wanted that until I met you all.”
If she was honest with herself, she did feel much more at ease having Colin around. Not only did she trust him to defend her family if needed, but he had also become someone she confided in as a friend.
“We’re glad to have you. I hope you stay.”
They spent the rest of the evening lying on the beach listening to the sounds of the night, of the wind rustling through the trees, of the coyotes howling in the distance.
With the passing days, he showed her how to prepare the fish as his father had shown him as a child. Colin enjoyed watching her throw herself into every task with gusto. He would observe her as she cleaned the fish with the small knife she kept stashed in her boot, perfectly comfortable. He hadn’t ever seen a girl do that sort of thing, and it only made her cooler and more desirable to him.
When they weren’t fishing, they would go into the woods behind the lake and scout out the territory, always mindful of new threats. Unwilling to use ammunition unless they had no other alternative, Colin taught Haven how to wield a sword. They’d had a good laugh as she had shuffled it around clumsily, but within a few days, she had the basics down.
The Good, the Dead, and the Lawless: The Undoing Page 26