by A. J. Snyder
With spring in full swing, it's getting warmer; and finding food will become easier for us.
I haven't eaten in days, and I can feel my body trying to shut down.
I'm weak, but I keep walking, keep moving. It's the only way to stay safe.
At least when Javier was alive, he knew how to forage and catch fish. He kept us alive and our bellies full. The three of us left in the group don't know how to do any of that kind of stuff. Now, we've been surviving on the sparse rations we found two towns back.
As the three of us stroll through the woods, Henry comes up close to me and whispers into my ear, "Maybe in the next town we'll find some supplies. We can dump Florence and continue on. Just you and me. We can make a life for ourselves; create our own world, our own family."
His words have alarm bells going off inside my head. However, I force a calm demeanor on the outside, not letting him know that I absolutely abhor him and the idea of being stuck with him. I can't let on that he's freaking me out, or it might trigger whatever the hell is going on with him and maybe even make it worse.
Henry always did voice his attraction for me while he was my boss, but I always shot him down. There were rules in place back then, however. Out here, there are no rules. Not anymore.
I don't want it to be just him and me. Ever. And if I find people, a place to stay, I will never leave there. The best thing to do is to find a group of survivors and stick with them. Creating our own world is just crazy talk, and I refuse to give in to him…even if I am feeling a little crazed from hunger at this moment.
And so I continue walking, staying ahead of him and not saying a word.
But I'm tired of running. So damn tired. And just when I'm ready to suggest we take a break, a snapping twig nearby has me stopping dead in my tracks. "Wait!" I whisper-yell to the other two.
Everyone stops walking, and we just stand there. Listening. For something. Anything.
And then I hear it again over to the left. Something is moving through the woods, tracking us. It's getting dark, so it's hard to see, but I feel it in my gut that something is coming for us.
That's when the sound of a feral growl resounds through the woods, causing a cold shard to splinter inside of my spine and ice to flow through my veins.
"Run!" I gasp, taking off in the opposite direction of the sound.
I hear Henry and Florence's footsteps behind me for a while. But poor Florence is picked off before she even makes it a hundred feet. I can hear her piercing screams, but know I can't stop.
Stopping means pain.
Stopping means death.
Every man for himself really has a whole new meaning nowadays.
And there's absolutely no helping someone once they're caught by one of them. Their fate is already sealed the moment they're bitten.
I feel Henry flanking my right side, and so we just keep running like our lives depend on it. And they do.
The woods look like they end up ahead, and I can almost see a clearing with maybe a house or a barn in the distance. If we can just make it to the clearing, we might be able to find shelter or somewhere to hide.
I'm so focused on getting to the clearing that I completely miss the huge log that I ultimately trip over, causing me to crash to the forest floor. Twigs and pebbles cut into my hands and knees as I tumble. My forehead collides with a sharp rock, knocking me out for a few seconds.
When I come to, I sit up slowly. The world around me tilts on its axis before eventually righting itself. My head pounds with a ferocious headache, and I hiss out in agony. When I touch the source of the throbbing, blinding pain on my forehead, my fingers come back covered in blood. I shudder at the sight, my entire body trembling.
They can smell blood.
I hear the zombie's growls and know it's getting closer, but I can't seem to get my limbs to cooperate with my brain.
Henry was ahead of me, but he quickly ran back for me when he realized I wasn't following him. He leans down to me, his hand outstretched with a panicked look on his face. I reach for him and am thankful for the help up.
He roughly wraps his hand around my arm and propels me forward. With a bout of dizziness hitting me, his push almost sends me down again. I trip but manage to keep myself upright this time.
"Keep running, Trinity," he seethes. "It's right behind us!"
With a newfound panic, I burn the last of my energy as I make the clearing up ahead my destination. My thighs and legs are killing me, but I push forward, promising myself a long rest just as soon as we're safe.
My vision starts to blur and my head pounds like there's a jackhammer inside of my skull, but I'm determined to make it. I'm not going to give up now, not after everything I've survived and sacrificed up until this point.
The edge of the woods grows closer and closer, and I feel a sense of overwhelming relief flooding through my veins. Once we're out in the open, we will be able to see the threat way more easily. We'll escape. We'll be okay.
But I never make it.
One minute my feet are pounding against the leaves and twigs on the ground, and the next I'm being hauled up in the air, trapped inside a large cargo net.
The force of being flung upwards steals all the breath from my lungs, and it's a full minute before I'm able to suck air back into them.
"Trinity!" Henry yells.
My hands search around for a way out of the damn net, but the top is cinched too tightly. I peer out between the small openings in the net and spot Henry about twenty feet down below me. Even if I manage to get out of the net, I'll fall and probably break my legs or worse.
"Run, Henry! Run!" I hiss at him. I can hear the zombie coming closer, and the noise we've been making will only attract more. Henry will never make it if he doesn't run right now. "Run!"
And then he does. He leaves me there just like we left all the others before us that had their fate sealed at the hands of the creatures.
I curl up into a tight ball and keep quiet, barely breathing and thankful that I'm high up off the ground — too high for the zombie to reach.
I hear twigs snapping and what sounds like a foot dragging along the ground. Then, the zombie is below me, scratching at the bark on the tree and snarling like a feral animal. It can probably smell the blood from the wound on my forehead. Quickly, I clamp my sleeve and hands down on my head, praying silently for some kind of miracle.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I block out everything around me and reminisce about my life in the old world.
I had been happy with a career that I absolutely loved, teaching the fourth grade at the local elementary school. I busted my ass all through high school and then college, always knowing what my end goal was. I always wanted to be a teacher.
Even though I had my dream job, I didn't have a boyfriend or a husband or kids of my own. But that was always the next step. A happy family — something I never had the chance to experience in life.
I owned my own home, a cute two-story house in a good neighborhood with a playground across the street. I had been so proud the day the real estate agent put up the sold sign on the front lawn. It was a place I could call my own, a place my kids could call home. A stable environment, much unlike the place I grew up in.
My childhood hadn't been an easy one. I bounced around in the foster care system from the age of six after my drug-addicted mother decided she loved drugs more than her own daughter.
And who knew where my sperm donor of a father even was. Hell, my mother probably didn't even know his full name.
Maybe he died from the flu years ago. I would probably never find out.
Yeah, I thought I went through hell and back as a child…but I had no idea what I was going to experience later on in life.
Keeping my eyes tightly shut, I focus on breathing shallowly and evenly. And after a while, I no longer hear the zombie; just the soothing sounds of the forest and a river nearby.
Eventually, I allow the sounds to lull me into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER 2
JACK
MY LIFE HAS become a monotonous routine.
Get up, take a shower, brush my teeth, comb my hair, get dressed, eat breakfast, check the traps and hunt. Then, I come home, eat, shower and go to bed.
Every day it's the same damn thing.
But hell, it could be worse. A lot worse.
The world went to absolute shit almost two years ago, and things haven't gotten any better for most of the world's population. I'm one of the lucky ones I suppose.
I had been a Marine in what I consider now to be my old life. I was damn good at my job too, doing four tours in Iraq and saving fellow soldiers' lives too many times to count.
When push came to shove, I got the job done no matter the situation. And I think, in a lot of ways, it prepared me for the apocalypse that hit the world abruptly and rapidly.
I really put my skills to the test when I saved the small group of guys that I'm with now. We were all part of a much larger group, but most of them didn't make it. Sickness and disease took a lot of our group out, but we also ran into a lot of zombies.
The four of us traveled for a long time until we ended up at River's Edge Farm in upstate Pennsylvania.
The farm had everything we needed: a river with fresh water and plenty of fish, acres of open land, animals to supply food and eggs, a well, and a fence that ran the entire perimeter of the property.
We lucked upon the spot and couldn't believe our eyes that it had been abandoned. And just like that, River's Edge Farm became our new home.
We reinforced the fences, set up traps and whatnot to ensure our safety. And while we don't live in total comfort of not being attacked…or worse, the measures we took help us to sleep better at night.
As I walk through the woods, I creep quietly, trying not to kick up any rocks or break any twigs or branches. I've encountered too many of them out here that I've lost count. There are lots of words for the people who turned into monsters after getting that flu vaccine. Zombies or creatures are the more popular terms.
All I know is that they are creepy fuckers that I will kill without a moment's hesitation.
I never venture off the main property without a few knives, a gun and extra ammunition. I'm decked out in hunting gear that helps to keep me camouflaged from all creatures, and I'm doused in deer piss to throw off my scent to any of those zombie motherfuckers.
You can never be too careful.
My eyes sweep the area ahead of me as I walk. Every now and then I stop and do a full turn to survey my surroundings. I have an ear and a sixth sense for danger, but I don't always leave it to chance and gut feelings.
Things have changed now. Drastically.
As I approach a small trap, I see that it hasn't been set off, and so I leave it be. There have been weeks when I haven't caught a damn thing, and some days when I catch several small game. I hunt everything and anything, because me and my guys need to eat. We have to stay fed and strong, or we'll never survive this world.
When I reach my next destination, I stop dead in my tracks. My large cargo net has been tripped. And the only thing that can trip it is large game. I set the trigger to only go off for anything fifty pounds and over.
I stare at the net high up in the tree and notice a big bundle inside covered in the leaves and twigs that concealed the net on the ground. Whatever's inside is not moving, and I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.
Grabbing the rope by the tree, I slowly lower the net. When it gets to the last five feet or so, I let the rope go and allow the thing to fall to the ground with a thud.
The net spreads out, and I ready my gun as I stare at the unmoving object, waiting for something to happen.
But nothing does.
It looks like a baby bear cub or something, curled up in a brown mess of twigs, leaves and dirt.
I reach for one of my hunting knives and put my gun away. Leaning down to the creature, I hold my knife at ready as I start clearing away the debris.
A woman's bloody face appears, and I'm so taken aback that I fall back on my rear-end on the ground.
"Holy shit," I whisper to myself.
We haven't come across another human in a long time, let alone a woman.
Most of the women and children were, unfortunately, the first to die in the epidemic. My group of people that I escaped with only had one woman in it, and she died fairly early on.
The woman before me has a nasty gash on her forehead. Her long, dark hair is littered with debris from the forest, and she's covered in dirt from head to toe. No wonder I couldn’t tell what the hell she was at first.
I slowly crawl over to her and check her pulse. It's faint, but it's there. That's all that matters.
Gathering her up in my strong arms, I stand and cradle her against my chest. Her head lolls against me, and it feels…right.
"All right, Sleeping Beauty. Let's get you home," I whisper to her as I leave the woods and venture back towards River's Edge Farm.
CHAPTER 3
CARTER
I'M JUST FINISHING up nailing and fixing a piece of fence when I see Jack coming back from his hunting trip. Glancing at my wristwatch, I realize he's early. And that's when I notice he's carrying something in his arms.
"Hell yeah," I mutter under my breath. We haven't had any large game in a while, and I'm hungry for some good deer meat. Eating fish every day is getting fucking old.
But the closer he gets, I see that it's not something he's carrying, but someone.
"Who the fuck is that?" I ask, when he's in hearing range, pointing my hammer towards whatever the hell he's got.
"A woman," he says nonchalantly, as if it's a totally common occurrence.
I cock a brow at him. "Where'd you find her?" I ask, curious as all get-out.
"In one of my traps." He looks down at the woman in his arms. I can't see much of her, not even her face since it's currently hidden against the big man's chest. "Go get Lucas," he tells me with a serious look on his face.
Not like he's never not serious, though.
I give him a nod and rush to the farmhouse. It's hard to believe this place has been our home for the past several months. I met up with Lucas, Jack and Owen in central Pennsylvania, and we somehow made it here in one piece. It's like a slice of fucking paradise in the middle of the world's complete and utter ruin.
Lucas is in the living room when I rush through the door. The look on my face must tell a picture worth a thousand words, because he doesn't even ask what's wrong, but instead bolts out the door, leaving me standing there.
I run out after him just as Jack is carrying the woman through the front yard with Owen, the fourth man of our group, following behind him with a book in his hands, like always.
Lucas spits out a million questions to Jack as he tries to answer them all.
"Where did you find her?" Lucas asks hurriedly.
"In the woods, in my cargo net trap."
"Was she unconscious when you found her?"
"Yes," Jack answers.
"Pulse? Breathing?"
"Faint but steady. And yes, she seems to be breathing fine."
Lucas nods and says, "Take her up to my room. I'll grab what I need and meet you up there."
Lucas is a doctor. At least that's what he was in his old life before the apocalypse. Now he's a fucking lifesaver, and we were lucky to find him when we did. He's saved us more times than I can count.
And even though Jack is the more or less leader of our group, Lucas is a close second. They both know how to get shit done. Me, I wasn't a doctor or a Marine in my former life. Nah, I was just a carpenter working for my dad's business that I would own someday. My three favorite hobbies were working, drinking and fucking.
Boy, how things have changed.
I've been putting my carpenter skills to good use out here, though, reinforcing the gates and fences and, thus, keeping us safe. I've also built shit that we needed, and the guys have assured me that I'm worthy of the group more times than I
can count.
We all have something to contribute, even Owen, who looks up at me and pushes his black-rimmed glasses farther up his nose with his index finger. He was a scientist with a Ph.D. and probably a few other degrees under his belt; a total brainiac in his old life. And now he helps us run this farm with his crazy inventions that actually work.
Shit, without him, we wouldn't have hot showers. And that is something I could never live without.
Yeah, we're all different, but we all complete this one fucked-up puzzle that would be incomplete without all four of us in it.
Owen and I follow the other two guys with the girl into the house. Jack runs up the steps with the woman, and Lucas goes into the next room to get his medical supplies.
Owen glances at me and asks, "I wonder where she came from?"
"I don't know, but I can't wait to find out," I tell him.
CHAPTER 4
LUCAS
THE WOMAN IS dehydrated, malnourished and injured.
But she's alive.
And I plan on keeping her that way.
All four of us haven't left the woman's bedside since she first arrived three days ago. I had to stitch the gash in her forehead with supplies from my medical bag. And we managed to get her awake enough to drink some water, but her eyes were unfocused, so I doubt if she had any idea any of us were even here.
I also cleaned and bandaged some of the cuts and scrapes that littered her hands, wrists, arms and knees.
"So when's Sleeping Beauty gonna wake up?" Jack asks me, folding his huge, muscular arms across his chest.
He's been calling her that since he first brought her to the house. It's a little nickname that's stuck since we have no idea what her real name is. "As soon as she's ready," I tell him with a yawn.
I've gotten barely any sleep over the past few days. And even though I'm dead ass tired, I don't want to leave her side. She's captivated all of us with her beautiful face and peaceful slumber. Even though she's still covered in dirt and has twigs in her hair, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on.