I shoulder the Remington, and grab the rabbit by the ears. “Looks like dinner is served. Hungry?”
Dawson lowers his weapon, and makes a slightly disgusted face. “Not particularly what I was wanting to eat, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
“True. Not sure what you thought we were going to have.” I point out past the trees. “You want to gather up some firewood while I prepare this?”
“Dude, that was a given. There was no way I was going to de-gut or whatever you call it,” Dawson says with revulsion. “Are we still going in there?”
I nod. “Yeah. Duke didn’t find anything except for dinner. So, I’m good with that.”
“All right. Guess I’ll get the wood, then. Be back shortly.”
I glance up through the canopy of trees. “I would hurry. It’s getting dark quickly, and we probably want to get a fire going.”
“Roger that.”
Dawson heads off through some trees as Duke rushes back to me. He sniffs the rabbit. He wags his tail, and his ears fold back. I know he’s probably just as hungry as we are. Having that animal in his mouth was just a big tease to him.
“Come on, boy, let’s go fix this up.”
Bark! Duke leads the way through the bushes. I follow behind on my hands and knees. It’s a tight fit, but I manage. I keep the rabbit in front of me, and away from the sharp ends of the branches.
I emerge and stand up. The area seems pretty well enclosed. There’s a narrow opening that heads off to the left through a maze of mounded rocks. I’m not sure where it leads to, and at the moment, I’m more concerned with getting this rabbit ready for roasting.
Laying the rabbit down, and well out of Duke’s range, I begin processing it. He quietly sneaks up to my left and sniffs the air.
“I’m working on it, boy.”
I’ve only done this two other times. It was some years back when Dad and I were out on one of our hunting trips. I generally don’t find myself overwhelmed by the process, but once you start cutting, it’s a whole different ballgame.
I remove the gear from my back, and set it on the ground. I unzip the top portion and peek inside. My hand dives in and retrieves my sheath. I remove the knife and take a deep breath.
I start cutting. Blood flows instantly and my stomach churns from the sight. I gag a bit, but hold down what little morsels of food might be swimming in my stomach.
Duke sits next to me, watching every move I make. I think he’s hoping I’m going to throw him a bone or something.
“All in good time, boy.”
Getting past the first few minutes of wanting to spew all over this dead animal, I find my rhythm and press on. I can’t remember if I’m doing it exactly right, but I guess it really doesn’t matter.
“You got that done yet, man?” Dawson asks as he drops an armful of branches and twigs to the ground.
“Getting there. If you want to get that pit dug and the fire going, we can get Bugs Bunny on there,” I respond.
“Duke, come here. Dig right here.” Dawson points to the dirt in front of him as Duke gives him a quick glance before looking back up at the rabbit. “Thanks for nothing, dude.”
Jamming the best-looking piece of wood from the bunch he gathered into the ground, Dawson digs out a good size hole. Placing rocks around the outer rim and filling the hole with tinder, he adds the branches.
Dawson places his hands on his hips and says, “All right. It should be good to go. You got any matches?”
I stick my butt out toward him. “I got a lighter in my back pocket.”
Dawson guffaws. “Yeah, dude. I’m not fishing that out.”
“Don’t be weird. I’ve got blood and guts all over my hands. I would prefer to not add anymore on my clothes.” Dawson hesitates. His hand reaches closer before he reels it back. “Come on, man, right back pocket. You’re not going to grope me, are you?”
“Funny. Besides, you’d only be so lucky.” Dawson reaches in and digs the lighter out fast. He shivers and backs away.
I can’t help but laugh as I finish the rabbit off. “Done.”
Dawson strikes the lighter. He places the flame close to the tinder. It catches with relative ease. The wood crackles and the fire spreads throughout. Blowing on it some, Dawson nurses the flame until it’s going strong.
“Nice, man,” I compliment.
“Not bad for someone who’s not the outdoorsy type, huh?” Dawson stands up and admires his handy work. To be honest, I’m surprised he was able to do it. Like he said, he’s not the outdoorsy type.
“Yeah, man. Good job. Let’s throw this rabbit on there and get it going. Hopefully, it won’t take too long.”
It’s crude at best, but I ram a stick down its mouth and out the other end. We set up sticks on either side of the fire pit, and place the rabbit on top. It starts to crackle and pop from the heat cooking its flesh.
“Did you happen to see any water while you were out gathering wood?” I inquire.
“Yeah.” Dawson points back to the way we came in to our little sanctuary. “Keep straight and you’ll head down a hill. Then take a left at this janky tree. There’s a small stream running through the trees just on the other side.”
“Janky tree?”
Dawson shrugs. “Yeah. Weird looking. Not sure how else to describe it, man. Is what it is.”
“I need to clean my hands off. Be back shortly. Watch the rabbit, and turn it when it seems like it’s done. Come on, Duke.”
I get off the ground and retrieve the flashlight in my pack. I head out of our little secluded hiding place with Duke on my heels. It’s even darker now, which I didn’t realize while messing with that rabbit and sitting by the fire for a few. I turn on the flashlight, and follow Dawson’s less than stellar directions.
It’s quiet. The wind is barely blowing, and there’s hardly any animals, signaling that they’re in the trees or bushes. It’s kind of eerie to be honest. Duke doesn’t seem to care much. He just trots along ahead of me with his nose to the ground.
We keep on, passing Dawson’s “Janky” tree. We finally find the stream. I rush over and get to my knees. Duke is beside me, lapping up the water.
I submerge my hands. The coolness grips me tightly and sends a deep shiver through every inch of my body.
I don’t take too long in rinsing my hands clean, getting as much of the grime and blood free from them as I can. I cup my hands together and douse my face. It’s so cold, but refreshing at the same time.
Man, what I wouldn’t give for a shower right now. Cold or hot. Preferably hot.
Wetting my hair, the water streams down my neck to my back. I dunk the canteen. It fills up quickly, which I take a big gulp from. I add more and pet Duke.
“Drink it up, boy.”
He licks around his mouth and goes in for some more.
Something moves in the bushes directly across the stream, stopping us both cold. I fumble for my flashlight, knocking it around on the ground until I’m finally able to take hold of it.
The disturbance stops, but only for a few seconds. I shine the light frantically over the bushes, but see nothing. Duke wants to pursue, shuffling his paws in place as he groans, but I hold him back. I get to my feet. With my hand still clasped around Duke’s collar, I back up.
Duke growls, which I silence quickly with a stern shush. Back peddling away from the stream, we leave the disturbance and head back to our site. I check over my shoulder, not finding anything after us, which comforts me some.
Dawson sits there on the ground. He pokes a stick at the fire as he turns to me and asks, “You all right?”
I glance back the way we came. “Yeah, man. We heard something down by that stream and bugged out.”
“Did you see what it was?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I think it was probably some coon, squirrel, or something like that.”
“Hopefully you’re right.”
Duke’s nose is drawn to the smell of the rabbit cooking, as is mine. I walk around
and sit my canteen down next to the gear. I take a big whiff, inhaling the smell of the cooking meat.
Dawson points the end of his stick at the rabbit’s side. “I think it’s close to being done. I cut into it right there.”
Pulling the flesh back with my knife, I inspect the rabbit. “Looking good. Just a few more minutes and I think we can eat.”
Duke sits close to the fire. His eyes focus on nothing but the rabbit. I take a load off, and lean back against the gear I’ve been hauling all over these god forsaken woods.
I look up to the sky above. Through the narrow opening in the canopy, I spy a vast number of stars. They’re so vibrant. I can even see the Milky Way. It’s kind of peaceful.
I stroke Duke’s back while watching the stars shine in the blackness of space.
“All right, James. My stomach can’t wait any longer. I’m getting my grub on, bro.” Dawson gets his knife and cuts off a good-sized chunk of meat. He cautiously grabs it with the tips of his fingers, fumbling it back and forth in his hands while blowing on it. He takes a bite.
“How is it?” I ask.
Dawson chews the meat and nods. “Well, it could use some salt and pepper, but not too bad.”
I reach up and slice a leg off and give it to Duke. He snatches it out of my hand and goes to work, ripping meat from bone. I get me a part of the rabbit and start eating as well.
There’s still some fur that I didn’t get off, but it doesn’t bother me right now. I chomp it down without care and go back for seconds.
“If you would’ve asked me a few days ago if I’d be eating a rabbit in the middle of the woods while being chased by ravenous dead people things, I would’ve laughed my butt off and said you were crazy,” Dawson says, followed up with a deep belch.
“I find it amusing that you’d say that, Mr. Conspiracy theory.”
Dawson nods in agreement. “Well played, sir, well played. Although to the degree this has gotten, not sure I’d ever see anything like people eating one another.”
We laugh a bit and continue eating. For the next couple of hours, we cut up about our past school struggles, and what we think our fellow classmates are doing right at this moment.
The odds are not in their favor at all. Some we think might handle the walking dead apocalypse while the majority are either dead or looking for a tasty morsel. Oh, the deranged mind of a couple of teenage boys with nothing to occupy their time.
“I’ll just say this, James. If I turn into one of those things, please, oh please, put me out of my misery. They look horrible dead, and I am too damn good looking to suffer through that,” Dawson chuckles.
“One right between the eyes,” I reply.
I don’t take Dawson seriously, as there is no question that we are both making it through this. I don’t think of the “what if’s” of this nightmare. Or at least I’m trying not to.
Duke curls up next to me and falls fast asleep. That whistling nasal sound creeps back, which I try to ignore. I know it’s probably from him being so tired and worn out, but it still aggravates me. I massage the back of his head and behind his ears, his sweet spot, as we lay silent around the fire.
The rabbit is all but gone. Nothing more than bones and what meat we couldn’t shovel into our mouths remains. I think I ate too much. My stomach rumbles and gurgles from being filled to capacity. It could just be upset that a pizza or something deliciously sweet hasn’t come along in a few days.
Dawson is passed out as well, snoring along with Duke. I’m close, my eyes weighing heavy. Glancing back up at the sky, I think of Mom and Cindy and wonder how they’re doing. I’m hoping they’re ok, safe from those things.
I’m coming. Be there soon.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
It’s been hard getting to sleep. I have no clue how Dawson has checked out and turned deaf ears to the world. The silence is almost as bad as the scurrying and rustling sounds.
At least with those, I never have the chance to relax and let my guard down. But with the stillness surrounding us, my body wants nothing more than to recoup some much-needed sleep. I finally give in.
My mind fades and eyes clamp shut. Duke’s nostril whistling has reduced to a low snoring hum that’s actually not too bad. With him snuggled next to me, the added warmth on this cool crisp night is like a blanket I’ll gladly take.
My body goes limp and I’m toast. Before I can get to dreaming about anything exciting, I’m startled by Duke shifting his body.
“Come on, lay still will ya? I’m trying to sleep here,” I mumble half asleep. He persists, his fur brushing across my cheek and making it itch. “What is your problem?”
Groggy, I sit up. My back is full of knots, and I grimace from the discomfort. My eyesight is hazy and foggy from being so out of it. I jam my fist into my eyes, rubbing and trying to clear it out.
“All right, dude, what’s all the fuss about?”
Duke sniffs around where Dawson had been sleeping. I look about. That feeling from before when I woke up all alone creeps up on me. I try to stay the fear, but I’m losing that battle.
“Dawson. Where are you?” I whisper. “Dude, this better not be a joke because I’m in no mood for it.”
I get no response, not even a snicker or chuckle from wherever he’s hiding. Reaching for the Remington, I keep Duke close as I look over the darkness.
The flames from the dying fire whip about from the wind blowing through. It casts some oddly shaped shadows that ramp up my imagination. Taking the safety off, I get to my knees. Then my feet.
“Dawson!” I call out once more, checking the area where he was sleeping. Still, no response.
I’m clueless as to what to do. Do I go looking for him or stay put? Trying to find someone out here is almost like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
I look over the ground where he slept, trying to locate any clues. I really don’t know what I’m looking for either. To be honest, I could be overacting for nothing. He might have gone to use the restroom or refill his canteen down by that stream. I wouldn’t have alone, especially after the freak out session I had, but he might.
“Duke, what do you think?”
He groans and tilts his head to the side and sits down on his hind legs.
“Thanks. You’re no help.”
Something moves in the bushes around us, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from exactly. The Remington springs up as my finger instinctively moves to the trigger. I start sweating, the cool night air nipping at the beads racing down the back of my neck.
Duke growls, and moves up next to me. He starts advancing forward, but I hold him back.
We pivot in a circle, trying to locate the disturbance. Something grabs my shoulder from behind. I scream and whip about.
Dawson puts his hands in the air and exclaims, “Whoa, dude. It’s just me. Are you ok?”
“What the hell, man?” I bark. “You scared the crap out of me. Where were you?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and walked around. I tried to tell you, but you just mumbled and rambled something I couldn’t understand. So, I just left.” Dawson points at the Remington. “Would you mind pointing that away from me, please?”
I lower the rifle back down to my side. “Holy crap, dude. I didn’t know if something happened to you. Duke woke me up and was growling at something in the bushes so my mind went wild.”
Dawson nods. “Yeah. It’s been pretty quiet for sure. I didn’t hear too much.”
“To be honest, I’m surprised that you went walking around, considering all that’s going on.”
“Well, I needed to get up and clear my head. My mom and dad are weighing heavy on mind and it was starting to rattle me. I’ve been coping with it as best I can, but my mind was going non-stop.”
“Do me a favor. The next time you want to go for a stroll in the creepy, dark woods alone, make sure I’m awake and lucid first,” I tersely retort.
“That I will do.” Dawson pats me on the back and nods as we sit ba
ck down around our dying fire. We pile some more twigs and leaves on the bottom and light it up, reigniting the flame. We both seem pretty well awake now.
Duke rubs up against me and licks my face a few times before darting through the bushes. I don’t bother with inquiring where he is going. He probably needs to stretch his legs and use the restroom.
We spend the rest of the night talking, both of us unable to get back to sleep. The rabbit gets picked clean a little further till there is nothing more than a skeleton dangling from the stick.
Morning breaks with the sun cresting over the mountains in the distance. The warmth hits our campsite, splashing Dawson right in the face.
Duke is asleep next to Dawson. It doesn’t seem to be bothering Duke any to have him so close. His dirty yellow coat lights up from the sun striking it.
“Man, I can’t believe it’s already morning,” Dawson says as he yawns and stretches. He gives Duke’s side a gentle rub and pats the side of his head.
“I know, right,” I reply with a big yawn of my own. My butt’s aching, and my back still hurts from resting against this rock all night long. “Now don’t be stealing my dog, ok.”
Skeptical, Dawson says, “I really don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that, James. You know how this dog feels about me.”
“Actually, I think he’s warming up to you,” I retort.
“And all it took was a plague of undead to bring us closer together.”
Duke groans and stretches his legs out in front of him. The fire we had going has died out. We don’t bother building it back up, but instead we push dirt inside the pit.
“You ready to bust it today so we can get to the cabin?” I ask.
“For sure, man,” Dawson responds with a thumbs up.
He gets to his feet and lends me a hand. My legs are sore and my back is still knotted from the uncomfortable sleeping position I was in. I think I should’ve found a better resting spot.
We gather up our supplies and pack, making sure the fire’s been extinguished well enough before we get on the move. Duke races and jumps around. It seems he was the only one who got a good amount of sleep.
Dead State (Book 1): Fallout Page 19