by M. J. Haag
Belongs to Mya? The human he already captured?
“Are Mya’s mom and dad human, too?”
“Yes. Some humans live with us, but most chose to stay at Whiteman.” He looked away for a moment and rubbed his very pointed ear. My mouth dropped open a little at the sight of it. How had I missed a very elven-looking ear poking through his hair?
I closed my mouth before he looked at me again and tried to focus on our conversation. Humans. They had several already. That didn’t bode well for me.
“The people you take get to choose where to live?” I asked.
“Take? I do not take people. I rescue them.”
He met my gaze steadily, no trace of sly manipulation or deceit in his reptilian eyes. Probably because I had no idea what his tells were.
“So, if I wanted to leave right now, you’d let me?” I asked, not bothering to mask my doubt.
“No.” He nodded toward the window. “It’s getting dark. It’s not safe to leave.”
“And, in the morning? What about then?”
“It’s not safe for a child to be alone.”
Just as I’d thought. He wanted me to believe he was rescuing me, but he wouldn’t let me go.
The first howl rang through the air outside, and I shivered at the sound.
“You are safe, Eden. Sleep.”
“I’m not tired yet.”
He stood and came toward me. It was then that I identified what was missing from the picture.
“Where’s my rifle?”
“I used it to kill the first infected when you wandered away. It was too bloody to keep.”
He reached around me and pulled back the covers.
“Lay down.”
Even without the gun, he scared the hell out of me. Not wanting to appear openly defiant, I made a show of stacking the pillows and curling up on my side. I stared at him. He covered me with the blankets and went back to his spot at the door.
No way in hell was I closing my eyes.
* * * *
Even in my sleep, I understood the wrongness of feeling safe and warm. Warmth was a commodity that came at a high price, and safety was an illusion people felt just before they died. I struggled against the feelings and screamed at myself to wake up.
When my eyes finally opened, my heart was pounding hard. Weak daylight already lit the room. I recalled the hours spent listening to the distant hellhounds howl, but I couldn’t remember falling asleep. I couldn’t have slept for long. A few hours, maybe. But, even a minute had been stupid. What had Ghua done once my eyes were closed? What else might have found me?
I knew better than to fly out of bed to find out. Instead, my gaze scanned the room for infected first, then the grey man. Neither waited, but the door stood wide open.
Quietly, I sat up and swung my legs over the bed. My booted foot hit something with a thunk. I looked down at the can of dog food on the floor, and the rapid thump of my heart stopped for a beat. I recalled the very first time I’d turned around and saw a can of food on the street behind me. My parents had still been alive then. We’d been with the first group of raiders who’d “took us in.” I hadn’t realized it then, but I’d been lucky and escaped death that day.
My gaze drifted to the door, but there was no trail of cans leading out. Had there been, I would have known I was screwed.
A trail of food was one of the oldest infected tricks to lure a human into a trap. I hadn’t known that, though, the first time I saw one. The infected hadn’t shown signs of intelligence then; not like they did now. I’d collected all of the cans, following the trail from street to lawn to house without incident. I’d even raided a pyramid of perfectly stacked cans from the living room.
As I stared at the can on the floor, I recalled the one detail that had scared the crap out of me. That detail had taught me to avoid can trails in the future. When we’d left, I’d looked back and had caught a blur of something dark running away from the house. At the time, I’d thought it was a fast moving infected. Now, I realized what that blur had been. It was the same blur I’d seen in the trees just before Ghua had arrived to kill all the infected. I’d seen a grey man back then. Why had he left a can trail, though? It didn’t make sense.
I picked up the can and tucked it into my bag. With my knife in hand, I cautiously crept to the door. The hall remained clear of infected, and the mattress still blocked off the stairs. Frowning, I checked the rest of the rooms. No Ghua and no infected.
I looked at the mattress. Smudges of dirt and old blood marred the surface where Ghua had grabbed it last night to shove it into place. What waited on the other side, now?
Shaking my head, I went back into the bedroom and looked out the window at the porch roof. It appeared to be the safer exit route. Like the day before, I popped the screen and climbed out to get a better feel for the state of things. No infected wandered the yard. I waited and listened for a scuff of noise beneath me. Heavy, grey clouds drifted in the sky; and a brisk wind made my time on the roof uncomfortable. However, no sounds came from below.
I dropped to the ground and looked around just as the first freezing rain drops fell. In this world, in order to survive, a few basic things were needed. A weapon. Something to carry water. Clothing enough not to freeze. And something to open a can of food. With only two of the four required necessities, I cautiously headed back inside.
The house didn’t quite look the same as the night before. Headless bodies littered the floor. That was twice that the infected came into a quiet house at night. Either they could smell me, or they were now drawn by the lights and not just sound. Either way, the change didn’t bode well for me.
I rummaged through the coat closet for something that would keep the rain off me and found a windbreaker large enough to go over my jacket. I put it in my bag as I headed toward the kitchen in search of a can opener. I moved quickly, the need to get away riding me hard.
The patter of the rain increased until it became a hushed roar of background noise. I hated rain. Not only could I freeze in it, but I wouldn’t be able to hear a damn thing. While I searched, I kept vigilant, watching the doors and openings for infected, my knife always ready.
Just as my left hand closed around the can opener, a car door slammed outside. I panicked and looked around for somewhere to hide. Nothing stood out. I ran for the back door just as the front one opened.
“Eden,” a familiar voice yelled.
I’d almost reached the back door when it, too, opened.
Ty, one of the gunmen from the bunker, lifted his rifle and leveled the barrel with my head. I came to a skidding stop.
“Eden,” Steve, another gunman, said from behind me. “Don’t try anything stupid. Drop the knife.”
“Why are you here?”
Ty smirked but didn’t lower his weapon. Something slammed into my hand. I cried out and involuntarily dropped my knife. Arms wrapped around me. Lifted off my feet, I kicked out with my legs and threw my head back in an effort to connect with something.
“You know why,” Steve panted in my ear. “Settle down.”
I kicked harder. There was no way I could go back with them. True, when I’d thought I might die, the bunker and its twisted occupants had seemed like a better option. But, things had changed. I was so close to setting out on my own again. With supplies.
The back of my head connected with Steve’s face. He grunted and called for Ty. Ty turned his weapon, strode forward, and hit me in the head, just above my temple.
Dazed, my struggles went from make-you-bleed to entertain-you.
“Tie her hands and feet. It’ll be easier to carry her out.”
“No. Stop.” I tried to move my hands out of reach but had a hard time thinking past the nausea and the pain in my forehead.
In no time, they had me bound and over Steve’s shoulder. They walked toward the front door.
“What the hell happened in here?” Ty asked. “It looks like something ripped those infected heads right off.”
; “Probably the hellhounds,” Steve said. “Hurry up.”
They walked out into the rain. The chill helped clear my head a little.
“Why bother taking me back?” I slurred. “You said we wouldn’t be going back to the fields. You don’t need me.”
“You need to start thinking long term, Eden. The infected and hellhounds aren’t going away. We need to dig in and plan for the survival of humanity. There’s a lot of work we’ll need to do. We’ll need all the workers we can get.”
He carefully shoved me into the back seat. Laying on my side, I struggled to catch my breath and think. Ty closed the door, and they both got in front.
“You don’t understand,” I said, trying again. “Van’s not going to forgive what I did to him. There’s no point taking me back just for him to kill me.”
“Oh, sugar, he won’t kill you. He’s mad, but you’re too important to him,” Ty said.
The engine roared to life, and the car started forward.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Like Steve said, we need to plan for the survival of humanity. You’ll see that eventually and come around.” Ty turned in his seat and looked back at me. “If you have your heart set on someone else, all you’ll need to do is let Oscar know. Van doesn’t have to be your only option.”
“You’re taking me back for breeding?” My stomach twisted, and I gagged. There was nothing to come up though. It had been days since my last meal.
Ty shook his head like I was being difficult and faced forward once more.
I studied the rope on my hands, then lifted them to my mouth to see if I could pick the knot out. They’d tied it off on the underside of my hands, though, making it difficult to catch an end of the rope with my teeth.
The car started to slow.
“What the hell is that?”
I leveraged myself into a sitting position to see what Steve was squinting at.
“Looks like a tree,” Ty answered. “Go around it.”
I looked out the rain-blurred window at the ditch beside the road. While there was no danger of the car tipping over, the ditch was deep enough that we wouldn’t have an easy time getting out of it. Steve echoed my thoughts.
“We’ll get stuck.” He swore under his breath and hit the steering wheel. “I told Oscar we needed the truck.”
“Calm down. It’s a small tree. You cover me, and I’ll move it.”
The car rolled to a stop. Neither of them got out. We all watched out the windows. With the downpour, visibility wasn’t great.
“Looks clear,” Ty said.
We all knew it wasn’t, though. Debris in the road was a standard infected tactic to stop a vehicle and get the passengers out where the infected could eat them.
“Let’s go.”
Steve opened his door first and got out. Rain blew in around him as he stood in the open door and looked around, his rifle ready.
“Hurry up. I can’t see shit,” he said.
Ty got out and closed his door against the wind and the rain.
With dread pooling in my stomach, I watched through the rain-distorted windshield as Ty jogged to the tree and tried to pull it from the road.
I shivered and, dismissing the rope that bound my hands, hurriedly lifted my feet to pick at the knot there. I needed to free my feet quickly because, without a doubt, this wasn’t going to end well.
Five
Ty had barely moved the trunk of the tree two feet when the first infected sprinted from its hiding place. Steve brought it down with one shot, but the loud bang that filled the air made me wince. Even with the sound of the pouring rain, every infected within a mile would have heard the report.
Ty heaved at the trunk again. Something moved in the trees behind him. The dead infected hadn’t acted alone.
A herd burst into view, and Steve swore. Even the best shot in the world couldn’t provide enough cover to allow Ty to drag the tree the rest of the way off the road. Ty seemed to realize that, too, because he stopped his efforts and ran for the car.
Both he and Steve ducked back inside and slammed their doors shut seconds before infected reached us.
“Back up,” Ty yelled.
Steve shifted into reverse and twisted in his seat to see out the back window. Not that it did him any good. The infected had already covered the car, rocking it back and forth as they beat against the sides and tried to push their way in.
Steve gunned it anyway. The vehicle bounced as he ran over a few infected, then the back end dipped down.
“Shit!” He slammed the shifter into drive.
“You ran into the fucking ditch.”
“Shut up.” Tires made noise under my seat, but we didn’t move.
While Steve and Ty yelled at each other, I watched the infected that stared in at us. Pale, milky eyes shifted from the two in front to me. I knew I was looking death in the eye again and again. There’d be no getting out of this mess.
“Don’t shoot through the window. It’s the only thing keeping them out.”
I glanced at Ty, who was pointing his handgun at an infected staring at him through the windshield. The car rocked forward in Steve’s attempt to get out of the ditch. Over the rev of the engine, we heard infected beating on the windows and roof.
A clunking noise came from my right, like someone’s hand had slipped off the handle during an attempt to open the door.
“Lock the damn doors,” I said, adding to the noise. “And untie me.”
The locks slammed down while the car continued to rock. I could no longer tell if the motion was due to Steve’s effort or the infected’s.
The volume of groans outside the car increased, and blood exploded on the windshield. For a moment, I thought Ty had lost control and fired, but there was no hole in the glass.
We all looked straight ahead at the blood smeared spot in the press of decaying faces. One of the heads rolled out of sight, completely severed.
“Get us out of here,” Ty yelled.
Chaos broke loose outside the car. Infected seemed to explode randomly, painting the glass with gobs of gore. Between that and the continued downpour, I couldn’t see what else was happening. But, whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
“What the fuck is out there? Is it a hellhound?” Steve fumbled for the windshield wipers. The smear of blood and water only further obscured the view of dark shapes churning near the hood.
A familiar roar filled the air, and my mouth dropped open in disbelief.
“Untie me.” I shoved my hands right under Ty’s nose. He shoved me back, and I tried for Steve next.
“Untie me,” I demanded.
The low moans and grunts from outside stopped. The soft, rapid swish of the wipers filled the inside of the car along with Steve’s panicked breaths. We all stared straight ahead as a familiar, huge form slowly rose.
“Shoot him,” I said. “Shoot him.”
Ty lifted the gun and fired. The bang echoed in the car, making my ears ring. But, I didn’t flinch away from the noise. I couldn’t. Frozen in my spot, I blinked at the empty spot where the grey man had stood.
“Where did it—”
The glass beside Ty’s head burst inward, and he was ripped from his seat. The sound of his scream cut out, just like his words, as he disappeared through the gaping hole into the pouring rain. The gun he’d held fell to the seat.
The engine idled, any attempt to get us out of the ditch forgotten, as Steve and I both stared at the broken rain-filled window. My pulse thundered in my ears because I knew who was out there, but I still didn’t know what he wanted.
Glass shattered again and jolted me into action like a starting whistle. I lurched forward, scrambling for the gun while Ghua slammed Steve’s head into the steering wheel.
When the door to my left opened, I twisted and fired without taking time to aim. It didn’t matter. There was nothing there to hit, anyway.
From outside came Ghua’s disembodied voice, and he sounded angry.
“
Eden, no. Shooting hurts.”
Between one blink and the next, the gun disappeared from my grasp. Panting, I inched backward. With my hands and feet tied, I knew that escape wasn’t going to happen. Yet, I couldn’t just sit there.
As I stared at the open door and the lashing rain, his face appeared. Ghua. Water ran down his face, washing away the blood and bits from his beheading spree. The rivulets from the small temple braids weren’t enough to clean his gore covered shirt, though. I shuddered at the gruesome sight of his brutal power.
His yellow-green eyes, with the vertical reptilian slit narrowed, locked on me.
“And, no more telling others to shoot me. Do you understand?” he asked.
I nodded.
He held out a hand and beckoned me forward. I almost shook my head in response; but after a quick glance at Steve, who was slumped forward against the steering wheel, I thought better of pissing Ghua off. I did not want to end up like Steve. Knocked out, I couldn’t try to run.
I awkwardly scooted forward. Ghua’s gaze shifted to the rope twined around my wrists, and he scowled.
“Why did they tie you?”
“Because I didn’t want to go with them.”
He grunted and squatted down so he could pick the knot free. I studied him as he worked. His gentle, warm touch felt wrong, given the headless bodies lying on the ground just behind him. Why did he keep coming back? I’d thought he’d left.
Once he had my hands free, I quickly untied my ankles while considering my options. Go willingly and maybe get another chance to run, or balk and get conked over the head. Or, worse, have my head removed. Not much in the way of options.
When I looked up, Ghua had his hand out again. My stomach quivered as I placed my hand in his. He didn’t jerk me from the car as I expected but helped me out carefully.
The temperature and the rain leeched all the warmth from my hands and face within seconds. Teeth chattering, I reached into the bag still slung over my shoulder and withdrew the wind breaker. Holding it over my head, I looked up at Ghua.
“You are too cold. You cannot walk.”
He looked down at his shirt, and I glanced at the car, wondering if he meant to drive it. Steve moved in the front seat, and my eyes widened.