“Well, for the record, I was asking how you feel about the wedding. That is coming up, you know.”
“Yeah,” I tried to avoid giving anything away with my tone, knowing it would lead to more questions about my feelings, “I try not to think about it too much.”
“Come on, Eric, your daughter is getting married soon and you don’t think about it?”
“I said I try, not that I’m very successful.” She laughed.
“You know she’ll be heartbroken if you don’t give a speech.”
“I definitely try not to think about that.” My gut clenched and I glanced around, feeling like I was being watched.
“So you plan to improvise?” I slowly raised the radio, lowering my hat to better cover my eyes.
“It wouldn’t be me if I didn’t,” I spoke under my breath. She laughed again, but I turned my radio down and listened.
Sliding off my horse, I withdrew my bow from its place strapped to the saddle. My rifle was already slung around my back, keeping it close. While there were gunsmiths making more ammunition, we had used so much earlier in the apocalypse that bullets were becoming harder to come by lately. Because of that, it was recommended to try and find other means of dispatching zombies in the field. In my case, I still retained most of my archery knowledge from Boy Scouts and survival training, and the silence of an arrow might come in handy for stealth operations.
Rain trickled off the brim of my hat, the downpour creating a natural rhythm as I crept forward. Catching movement off to my right, I stopped short and sank to a crouch, drawing the bowstring taut and shifting quickly. I was about to release when I saw a small wolf, its ribs showing through patches of fur. From the way it shook, I could tell that it was infected, its eyes already darkening.
I let the string slip through my fingers, my arrow mercifully piercing the wolf’s skull before it experienced living through the decay. A long time ago, I had learned that animals didn’t turn, suffering through a living decomposition until they succumbed. Relaxing my arm, I lowered my bow and stepped closer to retrieve my arrow.
As I was sliding the arrow back into the quiver, Jessica rode up.
“What happened?” She noticed the blood on the arrowhead, looking around the forest.
“A wolf was far from home, but it had the infection.” I didn’t need to say more.
“I’m surprised it made it this long without taking a bite out of something dirty.” Dirty. The word had become slang among survivors, referring to dirty blood.
“I guess we’re not the only ones learning how to survive.” I returned the bow and mounted my horse, urging it to the right. Jessica stayed with me, riding past the wolf and watching me closely. I think sometimes she worried about me, like I was going to snap, but I was getting better. While taking a human life had affected me pretty hard, certain ones being harder, I had been feeling…lighter lately. Ever since Kentucky, making the decision to kill the few over the many, I had renewed hope for myself, because for a while there I was slipping down the rabbit hole.
Trees parted before us and I spotted the outpost ahead, but my gut refused to ease up, giving me pause. Jessica clearly had the same feeling, one hand on the reins while the other hovered over her Beretta. A short path from the outpost led to the radio tower, the steel beams protruding above the treetops, so we decided to investigate that first.
Riding closer, we dismounted into the mud and approached the entrance. The beams were cemented to the ground at the base, a secondary antennae attached further up for the relay. What made me hesitate was the door banging open in the wind, the sunken entrance covered by a short awning that kept the rain out. Glancing over to Jessica, who nodded, I moved in, holding the door open while checking the inside with my Sig.
It was dark, so I let Mills grab the door while I pulled out my flashlight. The interior of the station was cramped, with an electrical circuit box on the wall, several steel cables running floor to ceiling, and a screen nearby. Of all the creepy surroundings, though, there was no blood, no body, and nothing else to suggest foul play.
“This is Outpost Twelve requesting reinforcements.” The voice made us jump, almost shooting the screen. “We’ve encountered threats that significantly outnumber our personnel. Please send help.” It was a male voice, but there was no panic or urgency, giving reason to believe it was pre-recorded. On the one hand, that was a smart shortcut in case of an emergency. On the other hand, it meant anyone could have pushed send.
“What the hell is going on?” I muttered, becoming tired of the Roanoke vibes.
“I don’t know, but let’s check out the outpost and see if we can’t get some answers.”
Chapter 24
The exterior of the outpost was stable, with no missing posts in the walls, no scorch marks or bullet holes that screamed raiders, or anything that gave a clue as to what happened. In the back of my mind, though, something felt eerily familiar about the situation. We left the horses outside and pushed open the gate, which should have been barricaded.
Off to the left, the steel beam that laid across the gate looked as if it had been thrown to the side. Neither of us wanted to call out, for fear of giving away our presence to an enemy, but if someone was hiding they were doing a damn good job. Whistling to get Jessica’s attention, I motioned toward the commander’s tent, electing to search the barracks myself. I know you might question my choice to split up again after the outpost in Kentucky, but for whatever reason I was feeling more and more like we were on a clock.
Watching her enter the tent, I cautiously entered the barracks, dirty laundry the only smell berating my senses. As I stepped carefully across the floorboards, hearing them creak under my weight, I once again found no reason to suspect foul play.
“You got anything on your end?” Jessica asked quietly over the radio. I plucked the device from my belt.
“Nothing. It’s like they all just left, but that doesn’t make any sense.”
“All I found was a log by the posted Lieutenant, but it doesn’t help much.”
“What’s it say?” I heard pages turning in the background.
“It’s what it doesn’t say. I mean, he talks about their first days here all the way to about a month ago. That’s when things get weird.”
“Weird how?” I stepped outside the barracks and surveyed the encampment, trying to make heads or tails of it while Mills read.
“Weird like, ‘supplies are coming in, but we’re still hungry. I don’t know how much longer we can wait.’ Murray said there was enough food in each shipment to hold them over for weeks at a time.” I walked over to a fire pit outside, peering at something uncovered by the mud, and knelt to examine it. Brushing aside dirt, rain pinged off of a gold necklace, the locket opening to reveal two family portraits. Looking past the locket, I saw more that the storm was drudging up. Staring at several teeth that were popping up like cereal in milk, it clicked.
“Mills, get to the horses.”
“Did you find something?” I lifted my radio, holding my M4 in the other hand.
“It’s a trap, Jessica. Only someone here would have known about the relay.”
“I’m coming to you, but why did the supply shipment return unharmed? Sam killed the convoy in Kentucky, so why wouldn’t they do the same?” I thought for a moment, jogging toward the gate and realizing how far out I had walked.
“Maybe they weren’t hungry, or maybe they were setting the bait. If the drivers disappeared, Murray would have known to send a team ready for battle, but a missing outpost suddenly hitting the emergency beacon demands investigation. They played against our curiosity!” Even as I said it, I didn’t plan to be the cat in that proverb.
I could see Jessica ahead, waiting by the gate, but I also saw something beyond her, a rain-soaked figure staring at her with red eyes. Sliding in the mud as I jerked to a halt, I lifted the M4 and exhaled. Mills’ eyes went wide before she ducked, but I’m still not sure if she did that out of trust or fear. Squeezing the trigger
, I sent two rounds down range that found their target, but the figure didn’t drop.
“Shit,” I breathed, sprinting forward as the figure did the same. Jessica spun, rolling into the mud, and came up with her M16 ready. She, too, fired two rounds into our mysterious watcher, causing the figure to collapse forward and send a shower of mud in an arc. I caught up to Mills, who was rolling the figure over, just as more hostiles emerged in the opening of the gate.
“Eric, he’s feral.”
“I think they all are.” I stared down the lead figure, a man in his thirties with sharpened teeth showing in a sinister grin, standing defiantly in the center of the group. “At least, the ones they didn’t turn on for food.” The journal entry made a lot more sense, with their newfound food source not coming in the shipments that normal humans ate.
“Oh my God.” She stood next to me, her body becoming rigid as she turned around. I didn’t look away from the former Lieutenant, whether it was a show of strength or because I didn’t trust the bastard in front of me, but I knew more ferals had come out of the outpost behind us. Had we searched the rest of the camp, I’m sure we would have been dead by now.
“We need to move to the horses.”
“What about taking out the infection?”
“We’ll get out a signal to Murray and come back with a team.” As I stared at the feral, I noticed something in its hand. To my horror, it held a handgun. The next second was frantic, with me pushing Jessica to the side and bringing up my M4. It was hard to tell with the torrential rain, but the feral raised its Glock, or maybe an M9, and we both fired at the same time. My shot hit it square in the forehead, sending it falling to the ground in a splash.
I felt Jessica pull on my leg to stand, thanking me for the push before urging me toward the gate. I didn’t glance over my shoulder as I heard numerous sets of feet splashing in the mud after us, closing the gap too fast. We just had to get on our horses and ride, but as we exited the outpost, a new problem arose.
“Where are the fucking horses?” Jessica yelled, panting. I was breathing heavily, but I pulled her arm.
“They probably took off when they sensed the ferals. We’ve gotta keep going!” She flashed a look over her shoulder, reaching out to push me before we both started running. As we reached a thick stand of trees and heavy brush, we angled our path, weaving through cover as we tried to lose the ferals in the foliage. Most of the area was overgrown, so we quickly lost sight behind us. Still, we didn’t stop moving, knowing that reality rarely worked that easily.
I don’t know how long we ran, but my lungs were on fire and my vision was blurry when Mills smacked me on the arm. She pointed excitedly to our right, where our horses were standing. We moved toward them, but they began to look skittish, their hooves kicking at the ground.
“No,” Jessica exhaled in defeat as three ferals stepped into sight. I knew from experience that they would try and call for help if we hesitated, but any gunfire would bring the rest of them down on us, so I charged straight ahead.
I barreled into the first one, tackling it to the ground and showering us both in mud. With my knee pinning one of its arms, I raised my rifle as a bludgeon when another feral collided with me from the side, landing on top of me. The first feral grabbed my right arm, throwing my M4 aside, as the one on top of me started to squeeze my throat. I guess they wanted to preserve my skin for feeding purposes.
On the outskirts of my vision, I could see Jessica engaged in her own struggle, her knife in hand as she dodged and slashed. I brought my free arm down on the ferals joints, trying to break up its grip, but that barely loosened its hands. My energy was fading with my sight, as my world was beginning to fade. Trying again, I made another weak attempt to fight back, my body refusing to respond for some reason.
The cold mud on my back helped keep me focused, but darkness was swirling among the trees, even as raindrops continued to land on my face. A voice called out, but it sounded so distant I didn’t react. It called again, sounding so familiar, but I couldn’t seem to pay attention. Suddenly, a gunshot cracked through the air and my vision cleared enough to hear Jessica yelling my name. I looked to see her feral knock the Beretta aside, knowing she was busy, but the shock was enough to snap me back to reality.
Knowing the shot would attract every hostile to us in within minutes, I beat my forearms with renewed vigor against the elbow joints of the feral strangling me. Bringing up my left leg, I wrapped it under the feral’s neck and pulled it to the side, freeing my neck. Reaching over with my left hand, I ripped the Ka-Bar out of its sheath, burying it in the skull of the feral on my right arm.
I stabbed into its brain, tearing my knife free, before rolling over and puncturing the crown of the other feral beneath my leg. My Ka-Bar crashed through the softened bone, entering the hollow bowl underneath, and I savagely repeated the action. Letting out a war cry, my Ka-Bar sent viscera and brain matter around the muddy ground as I dragged my knife from the feral’s now-destroyed head. I looked around to make sure Jessica had dispatched her threat before rolling off of the feral, kicking it away and breathing out the adrenaline.
“Eric?” a panting Jessica shouted, her footsteps splashing nearby. Her hands landed on my chest, pulling at my shirt to see my open eyes. “Oh my God,” she sighed, resting her forehead against my rain-soaked shirt. A throaty roar ruined our respite, and Jessica helped me up from the mud. We ran to our horses, practically jumping into the saddles as we rode away.
Minutes later, we were back on the trail for Mississippi, feeling slightly defeated.
“We’ll come back, Jessica,” I said, trying to comfort her, but I felt it, too. It was the first time we had really lost since beginning our journey, and it didn’t sit well.
“I know.” Her mouth opened to say more, but her words came out jumbled as her voice went lower.
“What?” My eyes were getting heavy again, but I didn’t know why as I tried to focus. Jessica looked over, her eyes widening as she saw something. I think she yelled my name, but I slumped forward, slipping from my saddle and hitting the ground. I blinked my eyes, trying to clear them, but I couldn’t get back to the world. Before I blacked out, I saw Jessica leaning over me and smiled.
Part V
Chapter 25
The Big Day
Apparently, I wasn’t as fast as I thought, because the feral’s shot at the outpost had caught me in the leg. Between the adrenaline and the sad familiarity of pain, I had thought it was Jessica using me to stand, which I should have known was a ridiculous notion. Either way, after passing out, she had pulled me back onto my horse and kept me clinging to consciousness until traveling to the next outpost over, where she got me help. When I awoke, I was just glad not to be alone for a change, recalling the last time I almost bled to death from a gunshot.
But that was six months ago and my leg has since healed, though a piece of the bullet was still embedded just under the skin. Today was about keeping all of the horrors out and just being happy, which was more difficult for me.
“I know I’m nervous, but how are you doing?” Katherine asked, her arm locked in mine. My suit was irritating, having become so used to a t-shirt that the tight neck felt like a noose. She looked absolutely radiant in her dress, so I couldn’t help but tear up a little.
“I’ll ask you this one last time, Kat. Are you sure about him?” She laughed, punching my arm and giving me the look.
“Yes, I’m sure, Eric. Matthew is a good man and I love him.”
“Damn,” I muttered, trying to look disappointed. It was hard to be upset around Kat, because her positivity was contagious. It was especially hard for me, because it was good to see her so happy. Maybe I was just going soft in my old age, or maybe deep down I liked Matthew.
“I know, Eric, it’s such a shame.” She patted my arm, grinning mischievously. “If it helps, if he ever hurts me, I’ll let you make him disappear in the night.”
“Deal.” I smiled back, hearing the cue and watching the door
s open. Marcus’ daughter, Teresa, walked down the aisle, tossing flower petals on the green fabric, before taking a seat next to her dad. In the last two years, he was doing better and they had all grown close. The next one to walk was Jessica, who looked back at me.
“Remember to breathe, Dad.” She winked and stepped through the doors, walking alone to the head of the aisle and taking her place to the side. I took a deep breath and let it out slow, stepping forward with Katherine.
It was a small ceremony, with close friends and familiar faces. Harper, Murphy, Marcus, Teresa, Hannah, Dave’s grandson and his wife were all there for the occasion. My eyes came to rest on Jessica, wearing an elegant, emerald gown that brought out her eyes. Smiling at her, I reached the end of the aisle and gave Kat away, helping her up the small step of the church. I stepped to the side, next to Matthew, who, to his credit, cleaned up nicely.
The ceremony was beautiful, causing more than one eye to water when they read their hand-written vows, and there was a standing ovation when the reverend finally spoke the words, “You may kiss the bride.” Lacking in technology, Marcus used a disposable camera to capture the moment.
We all left the church and headed to the reception, where Marcus continued to take pictures as the newlyweds shared their first dance. In the corner, Murphy turned the volume up on a battery-operated radio, a small collection of audiotapes stacked next to it. Kat and Matthew looked incredible together, with a smile on her face that lit up the room.
Next came my dance with Katherine, which resulted in both of us crying, as much I hate to admit it. I say dance, but it was more of a slow rock as she shoved her face into my jacket.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered over the music. She mumbled something that I didn’t understand before withdrawing her face.
“I didn’t think you’d make it.” I smiled, rubbing her arms.
A Broken World (Book 3): Fractured Memories Page 9