by Miriam Bell
“Then why don’t they attack each other?” Daniel asks, frowning at the pictures drawn into the dirt. Carter shrugs in response.
“We killed one before we found Millie in the red zone,” Lonnie says, tapping the rotting floor. “It was trying to catch a beaver, kept ripping into a dam not realizing that the animal was already gone- swam away.” He makes a wavy motion with his hand then lets it drop. “I think they want to kill anything that doesn’t smell like death.”
He glances at me, sorrow lining his features making him appear a lot older than his age.
“Its God’s judgement,” Jay murmurs from the window.
“No,” Bryan responds firmly. “God doesn’t turn his beloved children into diseased murdering creatures. If you are to be judged, you must first know your crime. If not, then what is the point?” He lowers his voice. “No, this is a manifestation of our sin. We did this to ourselves.”
We all remain quiet attempting to process our own thoughts.
“Well, I’m not a philosopher,” Lonnie states standing up. “You see anything?” He whispers at Jay.
“No, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t out there. We only have one damn window.” He puts his knife away grabbing for his bow. “Carter, why don’t you lead the way,” Jay says smugly.
“Fine,” Carter retorts, standing up and heading toward the door.
As we move into formation, readying for an attack, imagines of the infected rushing the door surface. I squash down the thought trying to remain calm. Carter opens the door, knife in hand and steps outside. No ripped and bleeding infected reach for us as we exit the old barn. Daniel ahead of me breaths a sigh of relief.
“Here we go again,” he murmurs to himself.
Hours pass as we continue our journey to the crashed plane full of supplies. Along the way, we take down five of the infected wandering among the trees. My heart races with each kill as I ignore the fact that these creatures at one point were very much alive like me. The sadness of survivors turning into walking death leaves me slow to respond so I bury the thoughts away until later when safety will allow me to mourn.
My feet ache when we finally reach the plane.
“Be careful where you step,” Lonnie addresses the group. “What we came for is in the belly of the aircraft. Bryan, I want you to climb one of these trees and yell if you see anything.”
“Sure.” Bryan replies quickly looking around for a low branch.
When Lonnie steps aside unblocking my view, I stumble at the site before me. I’ve never seen an airplane in real life only in photographs. The whole scene seems surreal. I stand motionless and in awe, noticing as many details as I can.
The plane sits tilted as if the wing has been caught on a neighboring tree. Kudzu wraps lovingly around the metal, holding the large object into place. The greenery blankets most of the ground and a majority of the plane as if wanting to shield this tragedy from our eyes. As I look past the tail, I can make out a clearing in the otherwise densely wooded area. I assume that when it crashed the hot steel ripped through the earth tilling up the world around it. I turn my attention back to the plane. A section that would hold the cockpit lays separate from the rest of the wreckage. Kudzu completely envelops the separated piece only allowing the shattered windshield to be viewable.
“Pretty Cool, huh?” Lonnie leans closer to me. “Jay is taking point. He’ll guard us while we fill the bags.”
I shake my head breaking my daze.
“What?” I ask.
Lonnie scowls, “Just follow me.”
I slowly walk behind him through the kudzu covered ground, Daniel close behind.
“Carter, I need you to kill some of this stuff.” Lonnie motions to the slender vines. “If we don’t hack some of this kudz away, we won’t be able to find this place next year.” I catch Lonnie’s eye and he shrugs. “The plant grows fast.”
“The aircraft wasn’t like this last year?” I question.
I glance around at the kudzu and take a step.
“Oh, it was but we cut plants back. Took about three days,” Jay says, watching the surrounding woods. “We won’t be doing that this trip. Not with the infected everywhere.”
He lifts his bow, poised for any danger.
“Wow,” I mumble, taking another careful step.
My feet disappear inside the batch of thin leaves with each step I take. The unseen ground catches my advancing feet as I worry about snakes hidden underneath the sea of green.
Lonnie, Daniel and I make our way toward the destroyed plane. The closer we get the more details I collect. Suddenly, I want to be as far away as possible- back home or shut tight within the confined space of the furnace room. The idea of fleeing vibrates through my skin but I force myself forward.
The aircraft looks as if it was wrenched in half. Looking up, I see the first row of passenger seats. Debri cakes each one. They are faded and torn with a strange device hanging over just one of the chairs. To help them breath, maybe? Wires jut out from the plane’s broken floor along with strips of twisted metal. I squint from the sun and notice a human bone lying exposed off the jagged edge. I gasp as a strong wind rustles through the narrow space causing it to wobble. I watch in silent horror as the bone rolls off the edge, a small strip of clothing following close behind.
“Here we are.” I hear Lonnie say as the bone disappears beneath the bed of leaves.
“Lonnie.”
I steady myself and focus on where he is bending down in front of a pile of stacked luggage. Daniel standing off to the side, having watched the bone drop, projects a stance of apprehension.
“Have you been up there?” I ask and cut my eyes up to the empty seats.
Sadness enters Lonnie’s features.
“You don’t want to go up there, Millie. Nothing but-” He stops abruptly and removes a piece of luggage. “You just don’t want to go up there.”
He repeats brushing off a dry clump of mud from a small piece of luggage- a hard case displaying a cartoon girl wearing a crown. I take a step toward him and gasp at a distinct crunching sound. I glance down not able to see what lies beneath the kudzu. The idea of my foot on top of human bones begin to freak me out.
“Hey,” Lonnie says, recognizing the expression of panic on my face. “It’s probably a piece of the plane. Come help me with this.”
I push back the bile rising to my throat and hunch down beside him. He removes another piece of disgusting sour smelling luggage.
“This is where we enter.” A brief grin lights his face. “You see this is one of my better ideas.”
I roll my eyes at the familiar words.
Lonnie smiles at the gesture and says, “Every airplane when manufactured was created with a compartment in the belly of the machine to hold passenger’s possessions. It was a sort of luxury for those flying, not to have to share their foot space with a heavy bag.”
He hands me a hard case box with wheels. I quickly place the item beside me, eyes widening at the darkness where the bag was.
He continues, “When we found this place last year, I was amazed this whole underside wasn’t smashed into nothing.” Lonnie clears away a few more pieces of rotten luggage, handing them to Daniel. “Hard to believe when they traveled they brought so many large suitcases full of clothes and useless stuff. Even with all the supplies under the plane, they still had a compartment above them where they sat to store more.” He shakes his head absentmindedly and takes a moment to reach into his supply bag. “Anyway, it’s a perfect hiding place.”
Pulling out a solar lantern he steps into the darkness under the plane. I crouch low staring into the dark void when a hand appears and grabs my arm. I am pulled into the hidden compartment. Lonnie chuckles and turns on the lantern.
“Ta-da.”
He spins while holding the odd light illuminating the vast space. I turn on him and smack his shoulder with my hand.
“Don’t do that again, Jackass,” I say.
“Oh calm down and look around. Pr
etty cool, huh?”
I push an escaped strand of hair behind my ear and glare at him.
“Millie.” Serious laces his tone. “Look around.”
His shy grin grows as I realize what is in front of me.
“Oh my,” I say, taking in the multitude.
The remains of a hard metal floor is crushed into barren soil, the kudzu not being able to grow without the sun’s light. I step on to the hard surface of the plane’s cargo hold. The walls are a dirty white smeared with mud and grime. Other than that the room is perfect, not reflecting how the plane had indeed crashed.
“You outdid yourself, Lonnie.” I say as I register what all he and the others had accomplished- one more thing to add to the list of things Tom never told her.
In the dimness, piles of blankets, clothing, books, first aid supplies, bags of rice, jars of honey, sugar and salt are all stacked together in organized plastic containers. My eyes scan the remaining areas I can see in the soft light.
“Yeah, it took awhile but now it’s a one stop shop. Won’t take us near as long to gather supplies like it did before.”
I stand amazed.
“The idea was to make life easy for anyone of us to come, in any season.” Lonnie says, stepping up beside me. He views the rows of supplies proudly. “Too bad we can’t take back everything with us at one time.”
I nod, “Kind of wish we could.”
We remain silent a moment longer until Lonnie begins to remove empty bags from his supply bag.
“Let’s get started,” he says with a grin.
I begin to fill up one of the fabric bags, attempting to fit as much as I can inside. My hand rest on a strange shaped bottle.
“What’s this?” I question and hold up the glass so Lonnie can distinguish the outline.
“That, is something referred to as hard liquor. Old Tom found a few cases. The liquid is the only thing that can disinfect a wound and burn like a fire.”
At his words, I hold the bottle back away from my body. Lonnie snickers at me.
“You can drink it too. At least, Tom said you could.”
I study the continents as I slosh it back and forth.
“Why?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“Well, as far as I know-” Before he finished the statement, shouts ricochet off the hard surfaces of the cargo hold.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Lonnie!”
Jay’s yell is muffled by the airplane’s metal walls but the urgency is undeniable. My heart races as a thought of Connor enters my mind. The idea of danger and those I love being hurt, sends a boost of adrenaline through my bloodstream. I’m in motion and out the aircraft’s underbelly before I realize Connor isn’t even here. He’s safe, tucked behind the prison’s walls. The idea delivers a second of relief before the thought is quickly erased. In front of me, one of my many nightmares is coming to life.
At first, I don’t see Daniel behind the crow masked man but when the stranger lands lying face first into the ever welcoming kudzu, I understand. They had come for us, not the infected but something far worse, the cloaked figures that have haunted my dreams for the last two months. I recognize the sharp leather beak and goggled eyes, the materials worn and aged by time. Fear spreads. I rip my weapons from their sheaths- their crimson coloring giving a sharp contrast to my pale skin.
From above the plane, come heavy footsteps running toward me. I look up just in time to see a man launch himself into the air and onto Lonnie’s back. He isn’t wearing a cloak or even a mask but his face shows an expression of hard hatred. A thin blade gleams in his hand. Immediately, I slice into his skin resulting in his painful scream. The stranger’s knife drops to the ground lost forever in the tangle of vines and leaves. For a brief moment I’m surprised at my reflex, having never drew blood from an actual person.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Lonnie counters the guy sending him falling swiftly down. A loud noise proceeds when his body smashes hard on to the ground. The filthy stranger’s eyes widen in shock, the edge of loathing lost. I realize why when blood slowly soaks the front of his shirt. I bend down, adrenaline still coursing and rip at the shirt. The weak material tears, revealing the tiniest of silver points. He had fell on his own knife.
“Watch out!” Lonnie shouts and lunges.
I turn around to discover a skinnier man bearing down on me. I stand, swinging the narrow point of my axe into the man’s gut. He falls upon it, not realizing his mistake in time. I feel his body tumble over my shoulder, releasing my weapon. Spinning, I use the weight of my body to drive my knee into his chest. The sound of ribs cracking stops me from giving the final plow. I stand and scurry away from the two bodies lying in a heap on the ground. What did I just do?
Bryan appears at my side, his arm locking around my shoulder- a trickle of blood runs down his forehead.
“It’s okay,” he says as I half heartedly try to break away.
I observe terror- stricken as Lonnie circles around another stranger. This man is different than the others. I don’t see the same hatred in his eyes as the dead men had displayed. Instead, he is calm and the void of all emotions. He watches Lonnie’s movements, sizing him up. He is confident, experienced. A thin smile appears on his mouth as he makes a rapid advance forward, blade raised. Lonnie adjusts his position to defend himself but it ends too quickly. An arrow slices through the stranger’s head with a sick sound. His body lands among the green kudzu, feet twitching- eyes staring vacant. Blood pours from the wound onto the vines and into the earth.
“They’re retreating,” Jay shouts.
He extends his arm behind himself and pulls another arrow from his quiver. He holds it ready to make another shot.
“Are you alright?” I stutter, still in shock.
Lonnie doesn’t answer right away. He stares at the man with the arrow piercing his head.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
I am faintly aware of Bryan’s arms around me as Lonnie backs away from the body, shakened. He glances at his brother.
“How many did you kill?” he inquires.
“Not enough,” Jay says, voice laced with sadness, “and I don’t have many arrows left.”
I straighten in Bryan’s strong hold. As if he suddenly realizes he’s embracing me, he lets go.
“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I wanted you to stay safe.”
His kind expression changes to one of concern.
“No worries,” I reply as I step up to the others and push down the thoughts of the life I had taken. “When we saw their camp last night, they were nowhere near this area.” I briefly shift my gaze between the twins. “How did they know we were here?” I finish.
Lonnie rubs his shaking hands over his eyes slowly.
“I’m not sure,” he says. “I don’t think they did know we were here or there would’ve been more. I can’t be sure.” He stretches out his fingers, clutching them and releasing- a nervous tick he has had from childhood.
“Maybe they found the plane and knew someone would come?” I say, giving Lonnie time to relax.
“So they’ve been watching the crash site ever since?” Jay questions.
“It’s just a theory.” I say and shake my head as if the motion would clear the frightening images resting there.
My eyes focus on the greenery covering my feet. Specks of blood now decorate the ground’s covering. I avoid peering at the nearby strangers’ vacant faces.
“We need to get home as soon as possible,” I say, picturing Connor and his mocking smile. “Let's fill the empty bags and make a mad rush home. I liked Jay’s idea of traveling through the night.”
Panic laces my last few words. I want my Dad. I want to warn our community. I want Connor by my side if I’m to fight against the cult.
“If we do, we will put ourselves at even more risk. We don’t have just these lunatics to worry about,” Jay says, lowering his bow to face us.
“The infected.” Bryan whispers as he steps closer.
“There is a house we can reach by nightfall. I cleared the home myself a few weeks ago. It isn’t far from the main road,” Jay states.
My mind begins racing.
“No, Connor said houses were too easy to show differences in. Think of Bryan and how easy it is to tell someone is living in the church,” I blurt out remembering our night at the tree house.
“Connor isn’t here and Bryan has been at the church for months,” Lonnie spits out, annoyed.
“So?” I say as I tuck a strand of hair back underneath my beret. “Houses are the first places people check. If the infected were the only ones after us it would be different.”
A flash of movement and color catches my eye. I tilt my head to get a better view. My heart abruptly stops when I spot a crow mask staring back through the branches. A deep blue cloak shrouds the figure- a heavy hood encasing the worn leather mask.
“Jay, behind you!” I squeal when the man disappears from sight.
Fast on his reaction, Jay spins back toward the trees, weapon ready to fire.
“Where, Millie?” His eyes search among the branches looking for the threat.
“In the scrubs beside the dogwood tree,” I say, voice shaken.
I wonder about the handful of cult members who attacked us. They were unprepared, sloppy even. They should have easily took us out if the ambush had been planned. I peer into the woods searching for the ominous stranger and come up empty. Jay realizes the same as me.
“He’s gone.” I maintain a firm grip on my weapons. “They weren’t expecting us. If they had we would be dead,” Jay curses quietly.
“We need to go,” I remark.
“Jay! Lonnie!”
Daniel’s voice calls out from behind the crashed plane. We all race toward his voice when he appears out from behind the aircraft’s broken wing. He trips on the vines of kudzu, only to right himself against the plane. His shirt is torn with blood seeping from his wounds.
“They took him!”
He struggles to breath and clutches his injured side. The hand comes away with the shine of new blood.
“What?” Bryan mutters as the terror tickles my cold skin.