Extinction Cycle (Kindle Worlds): Mother

by Hopf, G. Michael

  “Sit,” she said and went to the counter. “White or dark?”

  “A bit of both,” he answered.

  She prepared him a plate and put it in front of him.

  His eyes grew with excitement as he stared down at the moist chicken and golden-brown potatoes surrounded by chunks of garlic and onion. He didn’t wait; he picked up his fork and dove in. When the first forkful hit his mouth, he gushed, “This is so good. How do you know how to cook at so young?”

  Standing proudly, she answered, “Mother, she taught me many things.”

  He put his fork down and gave her a sympathetic look. “I really am sorry you lost your parents. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to see them pass.”

  “It was harder for Chloe,” Claire said.

  “And that’s why she doesn’t talk?” he asked.

  Claire paused. She looked down for a brief moment and said, “I made some iced tea, do you want some?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Claire rushed to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher.

  “How did the conversation go with Terry?” Kevin asked.

  “Good.”

  “And?”

  She put a tall glass next to him and said, “And what?”

  “Was a decision made?”

  “I told her we weren’t going. She seemed fine with that.”

  “Just like that? She said she was fine with staying?” Kevin asked, surprised.

  “I think she finally saw I was serious about not leaving.”

  Kevin looked around and asked, “Where is Terry?”

  “I think she’s upstairs. Maybe she went to bed early. She said something about being tired,” Claire said, walking back to the refrigerator.

  Kevin thought about her answer. It seemed odd to him she was fine with not going and now she was fast asleep.

  “Speaking of being tired, I’m exhausted. When you’re done, just put your dirty dishes in the sink. I’ll clean them in the morning,” Claire said and quickly walked off.

  “Good night,” Kevin said. He put his full attention back to his plate and proceeded to devour his food.

  Whispers came from down the hall.

  “Who’s that?” Kevin asked, clearing the stairs. He tried to make out who it was, but the hall was dark.

  A light appeared from the last room as the door opened.

  Able to see, Kevin watched Claire and Chloe disappear into their bedroom and close the door behind them. Curious as to what they were whispering about, he went to their door and knocked.

  The door opened almost immediately. “Yes,” Claire said.

  Kevin looked at her then to Chloe, who lay in bed. “Everything fine?”

  “Yes. Why do you ask?”

  “You both were creeping in the dark hallway,” he replied.

  “All good. Goodnight,” she said and closed the door.

  Kevin went from their door to Terry’s. He stopped and thought about knocking, but if she was getting much-needed sleep, the last thing he wanted to do was wake her. He went from there to Paul’s room. He knocked, opened the door and stuck his head in. “Hey, buddy.”

  “What?” Paul groaned, his focus on a book he was reading.

  Kevin came into the room, pulled up a chair and asked, “How you doing?”

  “Fine.”

  “Hey, did Terry stop by and check on your bandages?” Kevin asked.

  “No.”

  “I would’ve thought she would.”

  “Why would she? You changed them earlier.”

  “Yeah, but I never told her I did. I just assumed she would have come and made sure you were fine, you know, healing nicely. She’s a nurse, so I just thought she’d do some nurse-type stuff.”

  “Nope. Never saw her.”

  “You never saw her at all?”

  “She didn’t come see me, so, no, I didn’t,” Paul replied, his head still in his book.

  “Did you see her walk by your room?” Kevin asked.

  Irritated, Paul put the book down and griped, “Dude, enough of the twenty questions. I didn’t see your girlfriend. She didn’t come to my room, and I don’t remember seeing her walk past my room. Next time I need to be on Terry duty, let me know.”

  “Easy. I just thought…you know, never mind. Have a good night.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Paul said. His contempt for Kevin was still strong.

  Kevin left the room, closing the door behind him. He gazed over at Terry’s door.

  Should I knock?

  Deciding again not to wake her, he headed downstairs to ensure the house was secure for the evening.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Kevin woke the second the sun’s morning rays made their appearance over the rolling hills to the east. He first went to the kitchen but found it empty. Immediately, he dashed upstairs. There he found all the bedroom doors closed. It was early but not so early for everyone to still be asleep.

  He opened Paul’s door and peeked in to find him asleep and snoring. From there he went to Terry’s; he leaned in and listened. Quiet. Should I open it?

  “What are you doing?” Claire asked.

  He turned and saw her standing feet from him. “Seriously? How do you not make any noise when you walk?”

  Chloe rushed by him, her hair hanging in her face. Without a wave or anything, she hurried past and down the stairs.

  “Hi, um, bye,” Kevin said after Chloe.

  “She’s upset,” Claire said.

  “About what?” Kevin asked.

  “Aunt Terry is gone.”

  Taken aback by what she said, Kevin turned and opened the door. The room was empty. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know. I got up early, before the sunrise, and wanted to talk to her about our conversation yesterday. I went into her room and found she wasn’t there. I went downstairs and looked around, nothing. By the way, you snore really loud. I think you might have sleep apnea.”

  “Huh, sleep apnea? No. Um, you came downstairs?”

  “Yes. I even looked outside. She’s nowhere to be found. Her car is still here,” Claire said.

  “Did she ever come back last night?” Kevin asked.

  “I think so. Maybe she got up early or something. Went for a walk.”

  “You said she came in,” Kevin snapped, his temper beginning to flare.

  “I said I thought she was upstairs. After we talked, I came in. She was still outside. She said something about taking a walk,” Claire countered.

  Kevin was done talking. He took off and sprinted down the stairs. On the way past the couch, he grabbed his pistol and rifle and headed to the back door. Passing through the kitchen, he saw Chloe preparing a tray, no doubt for Paul. “Did you see Terry last night?”

  A look of fear overcame Chloe. She looked down timidly and shook her head.

  “Did you see her at all after Claire spoke with her?”

  Chloe shook her head.

  Kevin walked up to her and lowered his tone. “Look at me.”

  Chloe lifted her head and stared at Kevin.

  “Why are you upset?”

  Not wanting to answer, Chloe lowered her head.

  “You’re upset. Do you know something?”

  “Leave her alone. She’s merely upset after I told her that Aunt Terry is gone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s her aunt, that’s why,” Claire snarled.

  “Something happened to her and I’m going to find out,” Kevin said, marching off. He went past Claire and exited out the back.

  Claire ran to the window to see where he was going.

  Chloe tossed a few more items on the tray and hurried off towards Paul’s room.

  “Terry! Terry!” Kevin hollered, unconcerned if he was drawing attention to himself or the farm. Deep down he felt something bad at happened to her. He ran to the far fence line and yelled, “Terry! Terry!”

  The sound of metal clanging came from inside the barn.

  Kevin craned his head and loo
ked. “Terry!”

  The clanging turned to a loud banging of metal on metal.

  “Terry?” Kevin asked as he approached the barn.

  “Kevin, where are you going?” Claire called out, running towards him.

  “Something is in there,” Kevin said, waving her off.

  “It’s nothing,” Claire said, getting in front of him, blocking his approach.

  “No, it is something,” Kevin said, gently pushing her aside.

  A strong wind swept in from the north and brought the smell of rotting flesh.

  Kevin gagged and almost retched.

  “It’s probably the chickens. They get worked up,” Claire said, running up and getting in front of him again.

  Kevin looked down at her and asked, “What’s that smell?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Claire, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing!”

  Kevin came around the back. The odor grew stronger with each step he took. A wood-sided enclosure draped with a blue tarp stood a few feet from the backside of the barn. The chicken coop sat just beyond that.

  Whatever the smell was, it was coming from underneath the tarp.

  He cautiously approached. He knew that smell, he’d come across it more times than he could remember.

  “It’s just the chicken droppings mixed with old horse manure,” Claire said.

  Kevin ignored her. He reached for the tarp but hesitated from lifting it. Do I really need to see what’s in here?

  “We should be looking for Aunt Terry,” Claire urged, her tone shifting to one of concern.

  Unable to restrain himself, he lifted one corner of the tarp. A swarm of black flies flew out followed by the strongest and most disgusting smells he’d ever encountered. He gagged and dry heaved a couple of times before gathering his composure. He looked inside and instantly recoiled at what he saw. He stepped backwards, looked at Claire and asked, “What, ah, what is going on here?”

  She held out her hands, motioning for him to calm down. “Please let me explain.”

  Loud bangs came from the barn.

  “What are…what have you…no, this is too much. Did you, no, you couldn’t, did you?” Kevin stuttered as he stepped away from her.

  “Let me tell you. Please let me explain,” Claire said.

  “Get away from me,” Kevin said, pointing his rifle at her.

  “Please don’t shoot me. My sister needs me,” Claire pleaded.

  He jabbed a finger at the compost pit and asked, “Does she know?”

  She took a few steps towards him and said, “If you just let me explain.”

  “Don’t step any closer,” he warned.

  “You won’t shoot a child, would you?” she asked, taking another step.

  “I know. I know what we’ll do. We’ll leave. We’re leaving,” he said, turning and running off towards the house.

  Kevin burst through the back door. “Paul! Paul! We’re getting out of here!” He sprinted to the stairs and ran up, skipping several at a time.

  Alarmed, Chloe came from Paul’s room, her dress smeared with blood.

  Seeing her, Kevin screamed, “What have you done?”

  Chloe gave him an odd look.

  He shoved her hard against the doorjamb.

  She smacked her head and fell to the floor.

  Kevin came into the room, expecting to find Paul dead, but he wasn’t.

  “Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?” Paul shouted.

  “You’re alive. I thought when I saw her, I thought…”

  “You thought she killed me? Dude, Chloe is a sweetheart. She changed my bandages is all,” Paul replied, his face showing disdain mixed with surprise.

  “Yes, I thought she killed you.”

  “Why the hell would you think that?” Paul asked.

  “I’ll explain later. We have to leave, NOW!” Kevin barked, tossing off Paul’s sheet and leaning down to pick him up.

  Paul pushed him away. “What are you doing?”

  “We have to leave. There’s no time,” Kevin warned.

  Paul had never seen Kevin act so terrified before.

  “I’m going to say it slowly so you’ll understand. We need to leave. The girls are dangerous. There’s something in the barn. They—” Kevin said before being interrupted by Paul.

  “Claire?” Paul asked, seeing her walk in.

  Kevin spun around.

  Claire held the cleaver tightly in her grip. She swung hard and planted it in Kevin’s forehead.

  The blow to his head sent Kevin backwards onto the bed and on top of a frightened Paul.

  Paul cried out in terror.

  Claire stepped forward, grabbed the handle of the cleaver and pulled hard. The cleaver was buried deep like it had been in Mr. Matthews, but this time it came out.

  Kevin was still alive. He mumbled something unintelligible as blood poured from the deep gash in his forehead and down his face.

  Armed with the cleaver, she hit him again, this time striking Kevin in the face.

  Kevin’s body flinched and rolled off the bed, smacking the hardwood floor with a loud thump.

  Paul continued to scream at the grisly scene playing out.

  Claire pulled the cleaver from Kevin’s face, turned to Paul, and lifted her arm.

  Chloe appeared and grabbed Claire’s arm. She shook her head and grunted.

  “He knows,” Claire seethed.

  Chloe grunted and held Claire’s arm tight.

  “Let go!” Claire ordered.

  Mustering all the strength she could, Chloe yelled, “NO!”

  Claire couldn’t believe her ears. She relaxed, lowered her arm and embraced Chloe. “You talked. You finally talked.”

  Seeing a chance to leave, Paul jumped from the bed, landing on his good leg, and started to hop away.

  Chloe pulled away from Claire and put herself in between Paul and the door. She held out her arms and shook her head, signaling to him that he wasn’t allowed to leave.

  “Get out of my way,” Paul pleaded.

  Chloe wouldn’t budge. She stood her ground, arms outstretched.

  Claire walked over and said, “Chloe wants you to stay, so you’ll remain our guest.” She gave him a smile and took him by the arm.

  Paul pulled away his trembling arm and cried, “Why?”

  “Because you make her happy. Go back to bed…now,” Claire ordered.

  Petrified, he turned back and went to the bed, avoiding the pooling blood on the floor. He climbed in and pulled up the sheet.

  Chloe rushed to his side, grabbed her board and wrote. PLAY A GAME?

  “Play a game? My friend is on the floor, dead, killed by your sister, and you want to know if I want to play a fucking game?”

  Stung by his response, tears welled in her eyes.

  “Come, Chloe, let’s give him some space,” Claire said.

  Chloe got up and walked out of the room.

  Ensuring her sister was gone, Claire turned to Paul and said, “If you hurt my sister’s feelings again, I’ll kill you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Paul fought the urge to sleep. He’d nod off for a second, but visions of waking up with a cleaver imbedded in his skull was his motivator to wake himself back up.

  Throughout the day, Chloe kept checking on him, but he rebuffed her each time.

  Claire returned twice. Once to remove Kevin’s body and the second time to clean up the blood. Each time she remained quiet, never speaking a word but occasionally giving him a stern look.

  Paul was beyond terrified, if that was even possible. It was one thing to see adults act savagely, or Variants rip and tear at their victims; it was another to witness a young girl brutally murder your only friend. His mind searched for an answer, a solution, but none came without him having to confront Claire. Escape was the only way he’d survive, but that required moving, and that was something he was having a difficult time doing considering he only had one leg.

  After hours of struggling
to remain awake, he found solace in the fact he was still alive. If it had been up to Claire, that cleaver would have found a home in his head too. He owed his life to Chloe, but even though she’d saved him, he could never be the same around her. Trusting that Chloe would be his protector for now, he allowed the weariness to win out. He closed his eyes and drifted off.

  He opened his eyes but quickly closed them due to the bright light. Am I dead?

  A hand touched his arm.

  He squinted and saw Chloe sitting next to him. She gave him a quick wave and held up a deck of cards.

  “Now?” he asked.

  She nodded, an excited look on her face.

  He sat up, rubbed his sore eyes and yawned. His mind raced, thinking about the events yesterday, and for a second he wondered if it all had been a nightmare.

  Chloe shuffled the deck and handed out exactly seven cards each.

  “Go Fish?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “What time is it?”

  Putting her cards down, she flashed ten fingers.

  “Ten in the morning?”

  She nodded, picking up her cards.

  “I’m hungry. Is there breakfast?”

  She jumped off the bed and brought over a tray. On it was toast smeared with butter, scrambled eggs and what could only be canned corned beef hash.

  He picked up a piece of toast and took a bite. He chewed a few times before stopping. Thoughts of Kevin came rushing in. Here he was eating toast and playing cards and his friend was dead, murdered in the cruelest way. Losing his appetite, he put the toast down and pushed the tray away from him.

  Chloe held up her board. TWOS?

  He stared at her. How can I play, knowing everything I know?

  She put the board closer to his face.

  Kevin’s last words came to him. He needed to know. “What’s in the barn?”

  She lowered the board, furrowed her brow and shook her head.

  “Why did Claire kill Kevin? Tell me,” Paul begged.

  She wiped the board, wrote and held it up. NO TALKING. PLAY.

  “How can I play after what happened? I need to know. Please tell me,” he urged with pleading eyes.

  She shook her head and tapped hard on the board. NO TALKING. PLAY.