“Right,” Monte nodded. “From there, we could cut through Riverside to get back home. Our house is probably only three or four miles from here at most. And I think that route would be the safest for us to attempt. Otherwise, we’d have to go back through Lyons and the most populated portion of Brookfield. And I don’t think we want to be doing that right now.”
Victoria took a deep breath, considering. Finally she nodded, “I guess going home is our best bet. And the sooner, the better in my opinion. I don’t think anyone is going to be coming to save the day anytime soon. We don’t have the supplies for the six of us to hold out here more than a day or so at most. There’s no running water in this place, no heat, and this pack was only meant as snacks for the kids to get us on our four hour trip out to the country, not to sustain the six of us for days on end.”
“Well then, I guess our decision is made,” Monte said. “And I’d agree, the sooner we get moving, the better. If we can make good time, we could potentially make it home by late morning, maybe even sooner.”
“Kids, finish your granola bars,” Victoria said. “I don’t want any complaining. We’re going to have a long walk ahead of us, and I want you to have energy. It could be very dangerous out there, and I don’t want to have to stop every five minutes for snacks. This is no joke.”
She rummaged in the backpack for some other treats – fruit snacks, pretzels, some peanuts, more granola bars, and several bottles of water and juice boxes. She laid the spread out on the bed. “Eat up,” she instructed. “You too,” she tossed Monte a granola bar and a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” he caught the items and smiled at his strong yet nurturing wife.
“After we’re done eating,” Victoria said, “I want everyone to hit the potty. We won’t have time to stop for pee breaks later, so don’t drink too much water…especially you Rebecca.”
“Okay, Mommy,” Rebecca nodded obediently.
Victoria knew better than to believe the devilishly cute, yet consistently unpredictable five-year-old.
Half an hour later, the family had finished eating, used the bathroom, and gotten all their shoes and coats on and zipped against the blustery winter weather outside.
“You ready for this?” Monte asked Victoria as he checked his gun one last time before slipping it inside his coat pocket, ensuring that it was easily removable this time.
“No. Are you?”
Monte shrugged. “I just want to be home. I never really wanted to leave in the first place. I just felt pressured by the rest of the group. Now, here we are.”
“Here we are,” Victoria nodded her agreement.
“If we can just get home, we’re going to lock our doors, hunker down, take hot showers if the natural gas and water services are still running, and all climb into bed…our own beds.”
“Damn straight,” Victoria smiled, kissing her husband.
“Okay everybody,” Monte addressed his family. “I want you to stay close and keep your eyes and ears open. I’ll lead. Your mother will bring up the rear. If any of you see or hear anything, you make it known. We have a long walk ahead of us. I need you to be on your very best behavior. I don’t want to scare you, but there are biters out there, and we have to be ready. Daddy might have to use the gun, like last night. Whatever you do, stay with us. Don’t run away or do something silly. Mommy and Daddy will keep you safe. Also, no breaks until we get home. It’s a long trip, but once we’re home, we can relax, get warm, eat, take naps, go pee-pee, poo-poo, or whatever. Does everyone understand?”
There were nods and murmurs of agreement from the children.
“Everyone’s shoelaces tied?”
There were more nods.
“Anyone need to go potty one last time?”
The kids shook their heads.
“Okay, keep coats zipped, hats on, hoods up, gloves on for those of you that have them, and hands in pockets for those of you who don’t.”
Monte looked at Victoria. “Anything I’m forgetting?” he asked.
“I think you’ve covered it, Captain America,” Victoria smiled at him.
“All right then,” Monte zipped his own coat. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 9
Cheryl – or the biter who had been known as Cheryl in her former life – was feeling better, but not much. The injuries she’d suffered smashing her way out of the box in which she’d become entrapped the previous evening still hurt. Thankfully, they weren’t bleeding. The cold night air had quickly coagulated the blood seeking to escape the cuts on her hands. That was about the only positive of the wintry weather. Otherwise, the cold temperatures made for miserable living and sleeping conditions outside.
After Cheryl had bedded down in the gully beside the train tracks, it hadn’t been long before she’d found herself shivering wildly. Even out of the wind, and having found some boxes to hunker beneath, it’d been too cold to sleep.
Once Cheryl had given up any attempts at rest, she’d gotten up and walked along the train tracks (although she had no idea that’s what they were). To Cheryl, the tracks simply looked like an obstacle-free path that would be easy to walk and might lead her to food. Along her journey, she’d come across a small, furry creature that she’d managed to catch and consume. It tasted bad – not like human meat – but it filled her belly and provided her with the caloric intake necessary for her to continue the hunt for fresh flesh.
She’d walked the path of stone and steel in near darkness for what felt like hours. She had been guided only by a cloud-covered moon that revealed itself in occasional glimpses like a sultry fan dancer teasing her audience.
Cheryl felt a strange combination of both fear and freedom as she walked. She wished she was still with the group of those similar to her that she’d roamed with earlier. Without them, she felt alone, frightened, and unsure of what to do next. Yet, at the same time, she felt unencumbered and free to do whatever she wanted, not having to follow the herd. It was almost the childlike sensation of not having a parent around to guide her. There was the newfound freedom to do as she pleased, yet fear because she still wasn’t quite sure how to function and care for herself in this strange and dangerous world.
One thing was for certain, she had to keep moving or risk freezing to death in the frigid temperatures. She had an intense desire to find shelter, but after her experience in the large box, she was fearful of re-attempting entry into such a location.
Near dawn, Cheryl saw several of the odd beasts that rolled down the paved paths rumble by her. They were larger than most such beasts she had seen, their large round eyes glowing brightly as they approached. The beasts were colors that blended them with the foliage. And as they rumbled past, she saw that they were filled with the same creatures she was hunting. But these creatures were dead, clothed in outfits patterned and colored similarly to that of the beasts in which they rode. Beside them were stacks of the shiny black objects that exploded loudly and had killed several in the herd she’d traveled with yesterday. She wondered how the large beasts that rolled past had been so lucky to have consumed so many of the creatures. Their bellies looked full to bursting, and she envied the beasts for their good fortune. She wished she could have just one of those creatures for herself. It would fill her empty belly so satisfyingly. But the large beasts carrying the creatures moved far too quickly for her to catch. She feared catching one anyway. Such a beast, though far smaller than the ones that rumbled past, had attacked her herd, killing several and injuring more, including Cheryl herself.
Therefore, Cheryl continued her wandering down the tracks. The tracks were somewhat isolated in this area, which while bad for hunting, made Cheryl feel safer and more secure. Her instincts told her that the same sumptuous creatures that she craved to feed on were also extremely dangerous. They had any number of ways to harm those like her, and she knew she had to exercise extreme caution when she encountered them. The creatures were often faster, more agile, and far smarter, sometimes harnessing the power of the large beasts
that she had seen earlier and riding inside them. They could also easily enter and exit the boxes in which they often took shelter, hiding inside to stay safe from those like her. It wasn’t fair. But if they didn’t have their beasts to ride in, if they didn’t have their explosive devices that shot hot bits of metal into soft flesh, if they didn’t have their boxes to hide in, well, that was when those like Cheryl often had the advantage. Those like Cheryl were hunters, and their razor sharp teeth, and the energy and vigor with which they attacked, often allowed them to overpower their prey.
After another hour, as dawn began to break and the sky grew light, Cheryl came to a spot with larger boxes. This gave her hope that she might find food among those boxes. Her path of steel and stone led her to a structure that looked vaguely familiar. Scenes of people entering and exiting a long, silver serpentine creature that slid along the same path she was walking flashed through her mind. She couldn’t make sense of the images, but they were there nonetheless. She seemed to remember once riding inside that same serpent herself, but the memories were distant, faded, and meaningless. She saw a sign beside the structure. The sign had characters written on it, characters that Cheryl also recognized but again, couldn’t form anything meaningful from. The characters read: R-I-V-E-R-S-I-D-E. Then there was a space and more characters that read: S-T-A-T-I-O-N.
Cheryl just stared at these characters for a long moment, feeling something akin to déjà vu. But she wasn’t able to string together the fragments of memories filtering through her mind. Nor could she decipher where these memories had come from or what they meant.
And so, she began walking again. But she hadn’t made it far when she saw someone else on the path of steel and stone ahead of her. He was walking toward her.
The two approached cautiously at first, less so once they both realized that one was like the other. They stopped just feet apart, wordlessly sensing, inspecting, smelling.
Cheryl looked at the dark-skinned male. He wasn’t necessarily a large male, but he carried himself with certain poise, a kind of self-assurance. There was knowledge, power, confidence, strength.
The male wore a heavy blue fabric, a portion of which on his chest area was adorned with more characters. These characters read: V-I-C-T-O-R.
Again, the characters made no sense to Cheryl, but it didn’t matter. This male seemed to take an interest in her, and she in him. His confidence appealed to her, and she sensed that he could be helpful, a mentor. He might even provide her with a meal or help her catch one. Cheryl moved past the male, moving down the path again, hoping he would follow.
The male stood for a moment, then turned to watch Cheryl. She could sense his eyes on her. A few seconds later, she could hear him walking again, but his direction had changed. He was walking with Cheryl.
Cheryl liked this. She sensed that this male could be helpful. And after the long night, it felt somewhat good not to be alone. Maybe the male could teach her better how to survive in this new world.
As they walked, there was a distant rumble and a glaring light down the path ahead of them. Cheryl didn’t know quite what to make of it.
The rumble grew louder and the light brighter. It confused Cheryl. A small object appeared to be attached to the light far down the path ahead of them. It wasn’t anything to fear, though – just an insect-sized thing with a single, round, bright yellow eye.
But as the object grew near, it also grew in size. And its distant rumble grew louder as well, the light of its single eye brighter.
Suddenly the object was close – too close! It was roaring toward Cheryl and she felt immobile, frozen in place, terrified by the massive steel beast barreling toward her. It let out a huge blasting roar as it approached that locked Cheryl in place. She wanted to move. She was telling her legs to take her off the path that the beast was using to charge toward her, but it was useless, they wouldn’t respond.
Cheryl felt pressure on her arm. It was the male who had followed her. He pulled her off the path just as a massive and lengthy beast rumbled past at tremendous speed. Cheryl stumbled and fell as he pulled her, drawing herself up into the fetal position and covering her head to protect it from the roaring creature that stretched massive and snakelike along the path. It kept going and going, rumbling along on giant round rolling feet.
The dark male in blue fabric knelt beside Cheryl, touching her lightly. And while the roaring of the beast nearby continued to terrify her, the imperturbable male’s touch seemed to indicate that it would be okay.
And it was.
The roaring beast finally past without harming either of them.
The male helped Cheryl to her feet, shivering and still frightened, and led her back toward the path of stone and steel. At first, she resisted, fearing the massive serpentine beast might return. But finally, she relented at the male’s urging. His touch told her it was okay.
Somehow, this male knew things, things that Cheryl had no comprehension of. She decided right then and there that she would stay with this male. He was a good leader, better than those who formed the last herd with which she’d traveled. She felt safe with him. Now, if only he would help her feed.
* * *
Monte led his family out slowly onto the home’s front porch. The street was quiet. The air was bitterly cold and there was a slight breeze sweeping in from the northwest.
“Remember…keep your eyes peeled,” he whispered behind him. “Anybody see anything, and you speak up…speak up quietly, but speak up quickly.”
He led his flock down the front steps, across the front yard and out into the street. There, they hooked a right. Moments later, they were skirting the metal posts inserted into the pavement that blocked vehicle traffic from entering the paved forest path.
The morning was still, especially compared to the previous night. There were no sounds of jets screaming overhead. No thunder of helicopters thumping across the sky. No rumble of rockets detonating or bridges exploding. No screams from people being ripped apart by biters. No gunfire from looters, vigilante gangs, or people trying to defend their homes.
As Monte led his family onto the forest path, a pudgy gray squirrel shot out from behind a nearby tree, almost giving Monte a heart attack in the process.
“Jesus!” he jumped, almost bumping into Anthony who followed close behind him. “Freakin’ tree rat,” he muttered, watching as the squirrel scampered off to another tree, its nails clicking and clacking up the side of the bark as it climbed to safety.
Monte found himself envious of the squirrel. He wished he and his family could climb up to the safety of one of the monstrous trees towering around them. The trees in this part of Lyons were massive, many of them at least several hundred years old. They towered overhead, some of them so large that it would take all four Hines children linking hands to reach around their base. Hulking and rotted remnants of those that hadn’t survived the many floods that swept through this part of the forest lay scattered among their living brethren.
“Okay guys,” Monte hissed. “This path isn’t long. Maybe a quarter of a mile before we reach the suspension bridge over the river. Then we’ll be in Riverside. Once we’re there, we make a beeline for First Avenue. We cut across that, pass the high school, and then we’ll be in our comfort zone…Brookfield. Another couple miles after that and we’ll be safely home and we can…”
Another noise cut Monte short. He could see a person walking toward them on the path ahead of them. To their left, another person was approaching them at an angle through the woods.
“Everybody just hang tight,” Monte whispered to his family behind him. “Victoria, keep the kids close.”
Monte moved forward in an effort to intercept the two people before they got too close. Biters or not, they could be dangerous. These could be scavengers out looking for food, weapons, or just some wild times. And Monte had no plans of providing them with any of the above.
He kept his hands in his coat pockets, but he wasn’t doing this just to keep them warm. Rather, h
e was ensuring that the handgun in his right pocket was ready and easily removable if he needed it. As he walked, he was fighting a mental battle within himself. He wanted to draw the gun, having it out and visible should the approaching strangers have something less than honorable in mind. But he didn’t want to provoke these people in what might otherwise go down as a peaceful exchange.
As Monte soon realized; however, it didn’t matter how the two men approaching him perceived the situation. They were biters, and they seemed to have coordinated their attack. Or at least that’s how it appeared to Monte. Really, it just turned out that this was the first meal that wasn’t a domesticated cat or a dog that these biters had seen in several days, and both were hoping to get to Monte before the other.
However, the swiftness of the two biters’ approaches, and the angles from which they came, presented a problem for Monte. At close range, he was a fine shot. But because the two biters were coming at him from two different sides, it meant that he needed to take down at least one of them at a more distant range so that he wasn’t dealing with both of them up close and personal.
Monte selected the biter on the path ahead of him as his most achievable target. The biter was still a good 30 yards away, but Monte wanted to take his first shot before the biter was close enough to attack. The biter to his left was at about the same range, but it wasn’t moving quite as fast, having to pick its way over and around more forest obstacles and debris.
Monte leveled the handgun, steadying it with his left hand, aimed, and fired. The biter paused in its approach, and Monte thought at first that he had hit it. But as it resumed its advance, he realized that he’d only temporarily frightened it. Therefore, he adjusted his aim and fired again. This time the biter didn’t even slow its pace.
“Monte?” he heard Victoria behind him.
“Hang on, I got this honey,” Monte assured her.
He adjusted his aim once again. With the biter less than 20 yards from him, Monte fired again.
The Last Bastion Box Set [Books 1-5] Page 28