by Miriam Bell
My fearful eyes close in sadness when I distinguish a small figure among the group. A little girl about five years old appears behind the horde. Not having a large stride she lags behind the rest. What is left of her hair is long and black. It hangs in broken strands covering half her face. I can see that a large clump of skin sags off her jaw, exposing her rotting teeth. Her tiny hand clings to a torn doll she drags behind her. The image is stirring and will most likely visit me for many years to come. My heart begins to slow realizing the horde has past unaware of our presence. I glance over to Connor and Clover, curious for their thoughts.
Connor stares out into the darkness after the young girl. His hand tightens into a fist, whitening his knuckles. I turn to Clover, only to view a tear slide down her cheek. Sorrow and regret line her face making her older. At moments like this it is hard to believe she is only fifteen. I turn away afraid to say a word. I’m not the only one who has lost someone. The red zone is new to me, the infected are new to me, not being sure I’ll make it home safe is new to me. Clover and Connor had been wandering in the red zone for months before they found me. I don’t want to imagine what they may have gone through during that time but a hidden part of me is curious. The part of my mind that replays Tom’s death over and over, asking what could I’ve done to save him. It wishes they would confide in me, tell me the whole truth so I can comfort them as Connor had comfort me.
When I’m sure the infected are out of hearing range, I gently grab Clover’s hand.
“Was that her, your sister?” I whisper ruefully.
She regards me.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell after a while, being exposed out in the weather changes their appearance a lot.”
She sniffs weakly and Connor appears placing his arm around her. She curls into him much like I did only long minutes before. She looks so small in his arms.
“I don’t think that was her,” he whispers down to her. Clover nods her head and leans into Connor even more. “Why don’t you go back to sleep?”
His face becomes gentle as his calming deep voice soothes us both. He continues. “We’re safe up here for the most part. I’ll keep watch for the rest of the night.”
She doesn’t argue with him only nods her head again as if in a trance. I lean my back up against the wall as I watch Clover try to fall back to sleep.
She struggles with wanting to get comfortable for a bit, then stills after cradling Connor’s hand to her.
“Why don’t you try to get some sleep too,” I say, catching Connor’s eyes with mine. “I won’t be sleeping tonight anyway.”
He studies my face letting a kind smile skim right below the surface.
“I’m good, but thanks though.”
I nod, looking down at my feet. I retreat into myself knowing I won’t be visiting dreamland anytime soon. Images begin to crowd me as I let my brain wander, the face of the mutilated woman’s head falling to the ground, Tom’s lifeless expression, and Dad’s disappointment when I told him I was joining the scouts, all flash before my eyes. The odds of me staying sane after this seems to be against my favor.
Connor reflects my sitting position across the small space, his black boots touching my leg. He gently strokes Clover’s soft blond hair attempting to calm her as she whimpers in her sleep. I begin to hum hoping to control my fear. It ebbs but never fully goes away. I want to be home. Connor sits looking at me. After a while, I stare back at him. We don’t talk. We don’t move. We just sit there acknowledging everything and nothing at the same time.
Chapter Nine
When morning finally comes, I’m thankful for the daylight. The fears of my dream are finally left to rest with the sun’s warmth. After our visit from the infected last night I wasn’t able to get much sleep. The images of the infected child, Tom and the white crow mask flashed in front of my eyes all night, but the new day brings other challenges beyond trying to sleep.
I shift my eyes to see Connor sorting through his supply bag. Clover sits beside him doing the same.
“Good morning,” Clover says in a strained voice.
“Hey,” I reply as I sit up and stretch out my back.
Connor looks up at my greeting with a sad smile.
“We have a long day of walking ahead of us,” he says in a gruff tone. “If you’re certain we’re welcomed at the prison, we’re going to need you to lead the way.”
I nod and sweep my braided hair up into my fisherman hat, tucking it away from view.
“I’m certain.”
I straighten my clothes the best I can, wanting to smooth out the wrinkles. The action doesn’t do any good.
“I know the way,” I say. “We need to head north from here and cut west when we reach the old courthouse.” Their eyes hold steady on me. “No problem,” I finish and then wait for Connor’s response.
“Ok then.” His eyes drift to Chevy and then back to me. “We taking the mutt?”
At the same time Clover and I chime in together.
“Yes!”
We grin at each other in comradery.
“Chevy doesn’t want to live alone out here in this horrible place and I don’t want to leave him behind,” Clover says and embraces the fluffy puppy in her arms, giving him a slight squeeze.
Chevy licks her cheek and paws at her shoulder.
“Chevy? Is that what we’re calling the thing now?” Connor lifts his eyebrow in a defiant way. “Fine, but no one carries Chevy,” he continues, emphasizing the puppy’s new name. “We need to be alert. Last night, more infected were underneath the tree house then I thought was in the whole territory.”
He glances at the puppy held firmly in Clover’s arms.
“If the mutt wants to stay he will have to walk like everyone else,” Connor says and pets the side of Chevy’s head as the puppy playfully nips at his fingers.
After our breakfast of dried jerky, we’re on our way. We decide to continue walking in the woods opposite the way of the infected horde. We hike north, weighted down by our supply bags and memories. After seeing so many infected the night before I’m more cautious of my surroundings. Every noise makes me tense. I stop and watch for their rotten bodies to appear out of the never ending trees. Interesting enough, this process is made extremely annoying when there is a small dog prancing around you.
Chevy for the most part keeps up with us. He follows with his tail wagging in the air as he stomps through the leaves and jumps on an unarmed grasshopper. Once in awhile, he lags behind sniffing some strands of grass or a log that has fallen in our path. He doesn’t stay behind long, racing back as soon as we start to fade from his sight. He’s too intelligent to be just any puppy. I begin to think Chevy is the descendant of some kind of special breed, when Connor calls out from behind me.
“Everyone stop.”
I stand alert with my knife out at the ready. I survey the surrounding trees waiting for the trouble I expect is coming, but Chevy isn’t growling. I stand confused as to why we stopped.
“Stay here,” Connor says as he steps away from us.
I watch his careful movements and marvel at the fact he hardly makes a sound, his movements sharp yet graceful. I peer ahead wanting to locate what he’s sneaking up to. There is black liquid surrounding a distorted shape on the ground. I narrow my eyes and realize it is fur with a little speck of white peeking through some of the leaves. My heart fills with apprehension as I pick Chevy up and hold him close to my heart. His little head buries itself into my neck as if knowing what is about to happen.
Connor examines the animal in front of him and straightens his stance. As he walks back to Clover and me, I already know the words he will say.
“We found the mother.” Connor’s eyes sweep over Chevy. “Looks like something killed her, infected, drifter, another animal, I can’t tell,” he says.
I glance up to Connor now standing in front of me.
“I’m going to carry him for a bit till we pass this area. I don’t want him going over there sniffing
his mother,” I reply.
A doleful expression crosses Connor’s face.
“Okay, I’m staying with you to keep guard. Clover, lead the way.”
She reaches out and strokes the puppy’s head.
“Poor thing,” she coos to Chevy before turning and walking away.
“You don’t know the way,” I say.
“If I make a wrong turn, speak up.” Clover calls out from in front.
I continue to walk with the fluffy creature in my arms, trying not to glimpse its mother’s rotting body along the path. I realize at that moment that Chevy and I also have a common bond. We are both motherless and living life day by day, not knowing what will happen next.
I walk in silence as Connor strides gracefully along the path way. I can tell he’s slowing his walk to stay beside me but I don’t mention it. His head turns smoothly back and forth watching the trees for any danger. After awhile of calm, Connor speaks up.
“Now is probably a good time to go over a few things with you.” He cuts his eyes to meet mine.
“Sure,” I say stretching out the word.
He takes a breath.
“More than likely we’re going to run into the infected. After last night I don’t think there will be a day we don’t spot at least one.” He lets out the breath he is holding. “When that time comes, I want you to climb into a tree.”
He cuts his eyes over to me again knowing he’s going to get a response. I don’t disappoint.
“What do you mean climb a tree? Are you crazy?” I ask indifferently and make a face.
I turn my attention back to Chevy shaking my head as I pet him. Connor glances around the trees and continues talking without looking at me.
“Clover and I have this deal,” he begins. “When trouble comes she climbs out of the way. If she can get a clear take down, she attacks, if not, she’s out of the way and no one can distract me from doing what I got to do.”
“I’m eighteen years old. You can’t tell me what to do,” I say.
“Yeah and I’m older than you. So what.”
My anger quickens my pace.
“So what?” I question. “I’m not going to run from the infected.”
“Sometimes running is the only way to survive,” he remarks, concern lacing his tone.
“Have you ever ran?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer the question.
“I don’t have to worry about Clover. She understands when to fight and when to run. I’m not sure you do.”
I bite my lip.
“I was trained to be out in the red zone,” I say, defiant.
“And yet you were completely blindsided by an infected.” He lifts his hands in front of his chest. “Don’t get mad. I’m just saying, training is one thing, surviving out here is another.”
“I’ll survive,” I say stroking Chevy’s back. He growls low in his throat. “I have to.”
Connor nods.
“The only thing I’ve witnessed about your training is that you’re quick and you fight dirty.”
A smirk forms on my lips remembering the surprise on his face when my fingers had pressed into his throat.
“What is your point?” I ask.
Connor straightens.
“My point is, I’ll train you if you want.” He steps over a dead tree blocking our path. “I need to continue Clover’s lessons and if you would like to join in you are more than welcomed too.”
“I’ll never turn down a good training partner,” I say.
He smiles slightly.
“Only stipulation is for now when trouble comes, climb up in a tree and stay.” He glances down at Chevy in my arms. “And for God’s sake leave the dog on the ground, would you?”
His voice raises causing a bird to fly from a nearby branch.
“Shhhh,” I hiss with furrow brows.
He watches the bird fly away.
“Do you want to attract every infected in the area?” I ask pulling ahead. “Keep your voice down,” I scowl.
He stops walking, gently touching my shoulder. I pause, turning to face him. He steps forward, lightly pulling on a stray strand of hair at my nape. His fingers gently slide down the length of the lock, leaving it to rest on my shoulders.
“Sorry,” he whispers to me.
Connor’s beautiful eyes glisten as determination and an emotion I don’t recognize appears on his face.
“Just promise me, Millie.”
When he says my name I feel my heart leap for a brief moment. I enjoy the sound the symbols create coming from his lips. I can’t bring myself to look away from him even though Chevy wiggles in my arms.
“I promise,” I declare automatically with an unfamiliar voice, too raspy to be my own.
Connor leans into me, his face lowering to meet mine. His steel eyes burn into mine as his hand reaches to my face and gently strokes down my jaw, bringing my lips closer to his.
“I’m too distracted around you.”
He draws nearer, a breath away, and my heart ignites in my chest, my nerves seeming to electrify at once as a new ache filters into my insides, leaving me raw.
“You should work on that,” I say, anticipation building.
Chevy jumps from my arms at Connor’s closeness resulting in my frightened cry. He bounces to the ground and shakes out his body. The fur of his coat fluffs out liking him to the appearance of a giant hairball. I clutch the skin above my heart and glance back at Connor. The moment is gone. The annoyance he glares at the puppy is almost amusing.
“I’m starting to dislike this Chevy,” he says the puppy’s name as if the dog personally insulted him.
I let out a small giggle I can’t contain. Connor’s head turns toward me with a smirk displayed on his perfect lips. I step ahead of him cautiously and continue walking toward Clover. She stands in front of us trying her best to look anywhere but at my embarrassment. A full blush fills my cheeks since I know she has witnessed our scene. I reach for my knife by my side.
“I think I’ll lead for a while,” I declare, picturing her rolling her eyes at me.
We continue this way for the next few hours, me leading the way and the two of them following with their soundless steps, until we come to an old road. We rest on the side of the cracked asphalt. Grass runs in between the broken pieces appearing as if they’re its veins. A rusted truck lays useless, flipped over in the adjacent ditch, its windshield mirroring the effect of the grass on the road. I sit imagining a story of how the bulky vehicle met its fate when Clover hands me her canteen.
“I hate traveling down these roads,” she says as I sip at her water. “We’re so open and exposed.”
Clover lets out an exaggerated shiver and smiles down at me.
“Your cousin says I‘m to climb trees with you at the first signs of danger,” I admit.
She lets out a quick laugh.
“Yup. Heard the details earlier.” She points to her ears. “I’ve excellent hearing.”
“I’m so sorry Clover. This must be weird.”
She stops me with a quick hand gesture.
“Nah, more funny than weird.”
Her smile widens.
“I’m not a bad fighter,” I say.
“I’m not either,” she responds, taking the water canteen from my hand and taking a small sip. “I’m not very strong nor do I have the combat skills like Connor,” she takes another sip. “but I’ve learned many of my better attributes. I’m small, so climbing up trees and waiting for my prey works for me. Allurement,” she snickers offering me back the canteen.
I shake my head.
“I’m a fast climber and pretty good at jumping from tree to tree. Connor’s dad told me once the best defense is a good offense-whatever that means.” Clover lets out another laugh at the confusion on my face. “Let me put it this way. I work what I got. If climbing up a tree and hiding till my target walks past gives me an opportunity for an open shot to kill, then that’s what I’m doing. On a good day, I would be dead at hand to han
d combat with a full grown healthy man.”
I peer into her young face wondering what all she has done in her lifetime.
“I have a feeling you could hold your own just fine,” I say.
She looks around the broken street.
“That’s the plan when Connor finishes training me and I’m sure once Connor evaluates your skills he won’t be asking you to climb up trees.” Her face softens. “Well, maybe he will but it will be for a completely different reason.”
I can’t stop the smile that forms on my face.
“I’ll do what he ask for now but only because the sooner I get home the faster I can put this whole experience behind me.”
She nods and gives me her hand to help me from my sitting position.
“Where is Connor?” I ask searching the trees.
“He’s probably listening to us.”
I straighten, more alert.
“Don’t worry, you’ll see him when he wants you to see him.”
Chapter Ten
Our hike toward the prison continues throughout the morning and well into the afternoon. We stop occasionally for food, water, and to let our aching feet rest. Connor seems to disappear and reappear often. It’s hard to know when he’s around because you never hear him come and go. I try not to focus so much on him and instead study more of our surroundings. I stay alert wondering if Connor is somehow evaluating my skills. The infected have yet to appear but I agree with him, they will show up eventually. I dread when they do.
Clover stays close behind me as we walk the broken road toward my home. Every once in awhile my eye catches the gleam of her knife held out in front of her chest like a shield- always at the ready for an attack. I leave mine in its sheath, figuring if anything appears there will be plenty of time to react. My finger grazes the silver pocket knife clipped onto my belt loop. I feel the rough engraving of the centipede as I remember images of my nightmare- the wave like rhythm of the creature’s legs, its body forming out of Tom’s blood. Was it only yesterday he died? I bear the pain flaring inside, seeming to age my soul. I’m so much heavier as if the new knowledge obtained from this place has latched on to me, dragging me down into the darkness hidden behind crumbling buildings. Am I to become broken and forgotten like this desolate landscape? I continue to walk.