Burn Our Houses Down [Book One]

by Kelsey Garmendia

  We’ve got to get to Fort Ticonderoga, it’s our only chance of getting away from these psychopaths that are on the roads now. I turn over the engine and find a gas station near by that still has gas in the pumps. I check inside the convenience store, but like usual, come up with nothing.

  The bastards at the warehouse took everything Hayley and I managed to gather over the time we’ve been on the road. All I have now is three bullets and my sweatshirt—well, I guess I don’t even have that anymore. I grab oil, power steering fluid, antifreeze, a map and two coffee containers from the store before I leave. When I open the car door, Hayley is thrashing in her sleep.

  “Hayles!” I yell dropping everything onto my seat. I climb into the back and try to shake her awake. She lands an involuntary right hook into my cheek, and I fall back against the passenger seat. I lunge forward and pin her arms down while sitting on top of her legs. “Hayley, wake up! It’s me! It’s me! It’s Xavier.”

  At the sound of my name she goes rigid and then relaxes. Her breathing returns to normal, and she’s back to sleep in a heartbeat. I collect everything from my seat and throw it into the passenger side. I climb into the driver’s seat and turn over the engine.

  Shit, I’m so tired that I forgot to even check if the convenience store had running water. My mouth is already beginning to feel like concrete. If I don’t find water soon, neither of us are gonna survive past tonight.

  My eyes are barely open by the time I reach the river our map says we’re supposed to cross. I tuck the car under an overpass and wrap Hayley in my sweatshirt. I grab the two coffee containers and a bag before turning back to Hayley. “I’ll be right back, Hayles,” I whisper and then close the door.

  I can hear the water rushing just ahead of me. If I’m lucky I’ll be able to grab a fish or maybe some berries to eat. I scan the small patch of woods for anything edible while I track the sound of the water. I see a buck’s ears perk up from a small bush about ten yards away. I can’t shoot it, not with a 9MM anyway, but I can see what he’s eating.

  By the time I reach the spot the deer was, he’s long gone. About half a bushel of dark blackberries are left by the deer. He must be heading to water somewhere. I grab the rest of the berries and toss them into a plastic bag I found in the car.

  The deer’s footprints left enough of a mark for me to follow. I eat a handful of berries and march on. The sweetness in my mouth doesn’t linger long enough, but I resist eating more;

  Hayley will need them if she’s ever gonna get past the drug’s effects. The ‘if’ makes my body twitch. Whatever they gave her was supposed to keep her immobile, and by the looks of it, it’s working way too well.

  0004 Hours

  It’s quiet in the woods, but I can’t sleep. Hayley is breathing silently in the backseat, but I know she’s not sleeping—not peacefully at least.

  I rest my head against the cool glass of the window—still keeping my eyes on the mirrors for any movement. The drugs are completely out of my system now, but Hayley has been struggling. It seems like her hallucinations have mellowed out but her fever keeps going up. I’ve tried everything to get her better.

  My breath fogs the window preventing me from seeing the road on my left. Gotta check the next gas station for some Rain-X or something. I wipe the condensation from the glass and move my head away.

  “Xavier,” Hayley whispers. I turn to see her bloodshot eyes open halfway. Her hand reaches out towards me; her touch is like fire.

  “Oh, Hayles,” I can’t hide the anguish in my voice. I reach into my new backpack and grab two aspirin. “How ‘bout we get you something to eat?”

  She strains a smile and nods her head. I climb into the backseat with her and dig into the duffle bag filled with everything I hunted down the other day. I grab a handful of berries and some mint leaves. “Here, try these,” I say handing the food to her. She eats one berry and half a mint leaf and then downs about three quarters of the water I collected. She takes the aspirin with the remainder of the water.

  “Xavier, why is it so hot in here,” she asks.

  “Cause you have a fever, Hayles,” I say, pushing her sweat-filled bangs out of her face. “Remember those men drugged you when they took you from the cabin?”

  She frowns and after a few minutes nods her head. She grabs another berry and chews slowly. “How long was I out,” she asks.

  I shrug my shoulders. Time was completely out of whack in my head as well. I woke up in the forest around dusk, I’m assuming the following day. The drug made it hard to tell where I was, or how to move my legs. I must have lied there for over four or five hours trying to distinguish what was real and what was just an unbelievably-realistic vision.

  It was Hayley that got me to snap out of my hallucinations. Somewhere near midday, I remembered her face right before they blinded me with that black bag over my head. I remember the urgency in her screams. And then I remembered they took her. I fought through hallucinations for what seemed like days until that moment.

  I tracked those idiots left easily enough and found the warehouse where they must have been staying. They left me with a gun and one bullet. That one bullet allowed me to kill one guard with an AR-15. And it went on like a chain reaction from there.

  When I finally found her, she had track marks in her arm. She was surprisingly coherent, but I associated that with the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Judging by the look of her track marks, I knew it had been a while since they separated us.

  Today makes five days since I took her from the warehouse.

  “What did they do to me?” she whispers.

  “They drugged you,” I answer. “They probably tied you to the chair when they couldn’t handle you.”

  She laughs. I can’t help smile at that. Despite her burning skin and sleepless nights, this is the first real conversation we’ve had in days. Well, the first one that she is fully conscious for.

  “Thank you for finding me,” she says. Her feverish lips meet my cheek before she lays back down.

  Her steady breathing assures me that she’s asleep. I grab the empty coffee holder and bring it to the front seat. The sunrise climbs its way through the trees until the road around us turns to a purplish hue.

  I lean my head back and watch the sun rise the rest of the way. Doesn’t look like I’ll be getting any sleep. I start the car and continue to make my way through the abandoned vehicles on the road towards Fort Ticonderoga.

  Murderer

  I pull off at a rest stop to check Hayley’s vitals. Her heart rate is down, and it doesn’t feel like she’s gotten much hotter since last night. She’s gotten awfully thin though, and her face is so pale some days, I panic thinking that I’ve lost her.

  I can’t lose her. If I do—I don’t think I’ll be able to keep going. I love her—I don’t know if I love her as much as I loved Cassie, but I do know that she’s all I’ve got left. It kills me to say that because I truly do love Hayley, and I know now that she loves me just as much.

  I actually hate myself for saying that. My parents are gone, Cassie and her parents are gone, and I was lucky enough to have my best friend with me the day this all started. I do love her, but I’m so focused on keeping her alive that I can’t even think about letting my guard down.

  Back at the cabin, I relaxed for just a second and look where that got us. Hayles is on her deathbed from the amount of drugs those assholes pumped into her, and I’m now a murderer. A pretty good one at that too. I can’t afford to let that happen again. I won’t let it happen again.

  I cover her with a blanket and kiss her forehead. She stirs slightly and mumbles something before falling back asleep. “I’ll be back, Hayles,” I whisper in her ear. I climb over her and grab my duffle bag. I open one of the back doors and step lightly on the ground.

  “Be safe.” I barely catch Hayley’s voice in the wind outside of the car. When I turn to face her, she smiles slightly.

  “I’ll see you soon,
” I say and close the door with as little noise as possible.

  It’s been getting colder much faster lately and neither Hayley nor I are ready for that weather. I saw a sign for a shopping mall not far from this exit. A hike through the parking lot will get me there in no time. The wind has picked up significantly in the past few days which makes it difficult to hear. Today it seems like Mother Nature is having a little extra fun.

  I pull my jacket closed and march head on into the wind. Besides plastic bags rolling in the parking lots, there isn’t much movement. I wonder where everyone went. Maybe there was a warning sometime when we were camping. I’ll admit, I didn’t check the radio everyday. The weather looked good on the five-day forecast, and that’s all I really cared about. But what if there wasn’t a warning at all?

  Maybe everyone is roaming like Hayles and I. Maybe they weren’t even able to hear the broadcast message demanding everyone to report to Fort Ticonderoga. All I know is that there’s a silence in the air that I’ve never experienced before. Maybe they could’ve all disappeared—or turned into one of those growling things in the woods.

  What were they anyway? I’m not sure if it was a side effect of the drug those roadies gave me, but on more than one occasion, I saw something in the woods. It’s what was making that piercing growl that Hayley and I heard back on the Thruway near New Paltz. But I saw them in the woods. I don’t know what they are.

  They look human, but if you look long enough, they don’t. Up close, the growling sounds more like an ear-splitting moan. It throws off all your senses, especially your balance. But that could be the drugs also.

  The radio plays nothing but static anymore. I know ‘cause I check every hour on the dot for anything new. For the past two weeks, I haven’t heard anything new. I’m beginning to worry that even Fort Ticonderoga isn’t safe. Maybe food all over the United States went missing—maybe all over the world.

  I shake the thought from my head. Who would orchestrate something that horrendous? Who would put millions and billions of people through hell for no reason?

  Although, it would be easy to choreograph something like this and have it go unnoticed. Disguise trucks with company logos, clear out the store through the night. I mean who even knows how many people the government has working for them?

  What the hell am I saying? I sound like one of those crazed conspiracy theorists who live in their mom’s basement drinking Code Red and practically going blind from the hours in front of their computer screen. I can’t think that this whole thing was planned. No, it wasn’t. It’s like Hayley’s father said. All the food was looted. On the other hand, he’s the one who ended up getting shot by me.

  When I found him, he looked crazed. Animalistic almost. He was covered in blood; the blue of his uniform soaked to a deep purple. He kept muttering Wendigo, Wendigo and then he would start screaming for Hayley. I couldn’t keep up with him. There was a moment where he looked me straight in the eyes and said, “I’m starving. I’m just too damn hungry to keep standing here.” And then he lunged at me.

  I shot him in between the eyes—I never thought hunting would make me that good of a shot.

  Fifteen Days Since Drugged: Aisley

  I close my eyes tightly and walk at a faster pace towards a sporting goods store in front of me. The wind whips violently through the parking lot. Tiny particles of dirt sting the sides of my face as I race through the expanse of concrete hell. I’m practically running by the time I make it to the front windows.

  I press my face up against the windowpane like a five-year-old at a candy store. Everything inside looks quiet and to a certain extent completely untouched. I walk into the doors of the store and find that most of the good stuff hasn’t been touched. I stuff a couple jackets for each of us in the duffle bag and then venture into the shoes. We both need new ones, but I know sneakers won’t hold up in the weather that’s coming. I kick off my shoes and fit into a pair of sturdy hiking boots.

  Shit, I forgot to take Hayley’s size. I guess and grab her a pair of the same brand. I know these should last if we ever have to walk.

  I look at my feet and admire my new hiking boots. I would’ve killed for a pair like this a couple months ago. These are the newest Merrill boots. They’re top of the line according to Gander Mountai—am I seriously thinking about this right now?

  Come on, Xavier. Focus.

  I hear the click of a gun behind my head. “Don’t move,” a girl’s voice says. “Give me all the food you’ve got.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any food. I travel light.”

  The muzzle of the barrel depresses from the back of my head, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I turn around and see a thin girl, no older than ten, with golden-colored skin. “How old are you?”

  “Nine,” she answers.

  Ok, so my age guessing is a little off, but I was in the ballpark. “Do you—live here?”

  She nods her head slowly and points to the cash registers. “No one can see in the windows from there because of all the paint. So I sleep there and only go out and look for food in the mornings.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing coming from this little girl’s mouth. I hold out my hand for the gun. She pulls it back and twitches nervously.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just don’t want you to hurt me—”

  “I know how to use it!” she yells.

  I nod my head. A nine-year-old that knows how to use a handgun—fucking brilliant. “Where are your parents?”

  She bites on her bottom lip and looks down. I already know the answer before she says it. “They went out three mornings ago and never came back,” she responds. The pain in my gut hurts more than normal. “I’m fine, ok. I managed to gather some roots and stuff to eat,” I don’t look up at her because I can hear the tears in her eyes.

  “How would like to come with me and my friend Hayley?”

  Another mouth to feed won’t be easy, but if I can find a decent bow in this store, I can definitely hunt for three. She looks up at me and tries to read suspicion in my face.

  Finally, the waterworks fall, and she throws her arms around me. “I thought I was gonna die,” she cries into my chest.

  I awkwardly hug her back and try to reassure her that she’ll be ok. She grabs a backpack and a jacket from one of the racks and laces up a new pair of boots.

  “Should I take some water bottles?” she calls out from the opposite end of the store.

  “Yeah, good idea,” I yell.

  It occurs to me that I never asked her name—mental note. I find the weapons section and grab three knives, a cross bow and arrows and a rifle. I shovel as much ammo as our bags can handle and store the rifle in my duffle bag as well.

  “Is there any place we can get water?” I ask her.

  She smiles and nods her head. We walk back through the blistering wind of the parking lot and into the small wooded area right outside of it.

  “What’s your name,” I ask as we make our way deeper into the woods.

  “Aisley,” she says. “What’s yours?”

  “Xavier.”

  She smiles and nods her head. We finally reach a stream, when I see two bodies lying face down near it; bullet holes neatly engraved into the back of their heads.

  “Aisley, uh—can you do me a favor?” She nods her head like a bobble-head doll. “You see that bush over there? I need you to pick every berry off of it and put them in one of the bottles—actually take two. I’m gonna go collect the water and then we’ll meet up right here.”

  She nods her head and takes off silently through the woods. I reach the bodies and gag from the stench. They have definitely been here for a couple days. Something inside me wills it not to be Aisley’s parents, but my gut is screaming at me in resistance.

  I reach into the back pocket of the man and find a tattered leather wallet. I open it to a picture of a little girl in a denim jacket—Aisley. I swallow the vomit down and open the wallet to
find his license. I take his ID and the picture from their respective slots and place them in my back pocket. The mother only wears her wedding ring, so I take that too.

  I collect the water and head back to our meeting spot. Aisley sits up against the tree with two full bottles of berries. “I got them all,” she says with a grin. “I didn’t even know that bush was there and I’ve been everywhere else to get water and food since my parents went missing.”

  I smile and hold out a hand for her. She takes it, and a big smile spreads across her face. I think I died a little inside seeing that smile, knowing the news that would have to be told to her. “My friend Hayley is a little under the weather right now,” I tell her as we make our way back to the SUV. “But she’ll love you.”

  “Under the weather how,” Aisley asks.

  “Some bad men kidnapped her and hurt her,” I respond.

  “Did they try to kill her?”

  I cannot believe I’m having this conversation with someone who hasn’t reached double digits yet. I nod my head. “And they made her take drugs, bad ones that make you sick,” I continue. “So when you see her, she might scare you a little.”

  Aisley nods her head and walks with a look of determination on her face. When we reach the car, Hayley is sitting up in the back. She looks over our way and smiles. The color looks like its returning to her face from here. I open the back door and throw our supplies in.

  “Well, who’s this,” Hayley asks.

  Aisley holds out her hand and says, “Aisley Pricket. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs.—”

  “Hayley Henderson,” Hayley responds with a smile. “And the pleasure’s all mine.”

  “She was in the store I went into. Got you a pair of hiking boots,” I say handing Hayley the duffle bag.