by Amy Miles
“I’m going to go make sure everything is ready and then we can leave. Just stay here and I’ll come back for you.”
Without any sign of acknowledging my presence or my words, she hugs her arm tighter into her chest and I realize that she is holding a rag doll in an old faded dress.
“Is she yours? She’s very lovely. I’m sure she will enjoy the mountains just as much as you will.”
Her face clouds over for a second when she casts a glance up at me before she lowers her face once more. She gently brushes the doll’s wiry curls.
“Does she have a name, Hope?”
Tears threaten to fall as I stare down at the little girl sitting beside me who is so trapped within her own world to realize that one exists outside of her mind. If I had not heard her screams from the day before, I would have thought her incapable of making any sound at all.
A footstep at the door alerts me to the kid’s presence and I quickly wipe at me eyes before I stand. “I’ll be back for you in a minute.”
Hope doesn’t respond. She continues to run her fingers through the doll’s hair. I grab hold of the kid and drag him back down the hall.
“I need to know what happened to that little girl.” I round on him after I push him back against the sink. “And you’re going to tell me where her parents are. No secrets, no hiding and no side stepping the truth this time.”
He sinks heavily down into a chair. “I don’t know about her father and that’s the honest truth. She never talked about him. Sometimes I would hear her call out to him in her sleep but she never said anything to me. She only talked about her mom.”
“Did her mother die here? Is that why she’s like that?”
His gaze is fixated on the floor for so long I step forward and lift his chin. “Kid? I need to know.”
He scrubs his hand over his face and sags his shoulders forward until his elbows are propped up on his knees. “It happened about a month ago, I guess. Flannery came for Hope but her mom pleaded to take her place. What mother wouldn’t sacrifice herself for a daughter she loves more than life itself? We hadn’t eaten in nearly five days and there were only a few of us left. I tried to stop him, to save Hope’s mom, but she knew it was her time. She pushed Hope toward me and made me promise to keep her little girl safe.
“Flannery dragged her up the stairs and locked us in. As he tied her up, Hope wiggled out of my arms and ran to the hatch door, beating on the wood until her fingers bled. I held her to my chest as we listened to him begin to cut.”
For the sake of the damaged little girl I just left in that bedroom, I want to weep for her loss.
My stomach churns as I sink down onto a chair. “Did the mother survive long?”
“She lasted a full six days. That was nearly double the time that the others managed. I think she held out the longest with the hopes of somehow finding a way to get back to Hope. It must have been pure torture knowing that her daughter could hear her screams all the way to the end.”
His voice loses power as he shakes his head. “Hope stopped speaking after that.”
I sink down into a crouch beside him. “It wasn’t your fault.”
He turns his head away but not before I see tear tracks on his cheeks.
“Hey, Kid,” I whisper and place a hand on his leg. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Is it?” His head whips around and all that I can see in his eyes is anger. “You’re already planning on leaving us too. Tell me how that’s going to make everything okay!”
“I...” I lean back and pull my hand away. His entire body is shaking as he stares at me. “I know that it doesn’t feel like it but I’m just trying to keep you safe.”
“Safe?” He snorts and wipes his nose with the back of his arm. “Tell that to someone who actually believes you. Oh, wait! There’s no one left alive to tell!”
“Kid, wait!” I yell as he shoves past me and races out of the house. The screen door slams shut behind him.
“Shit.” I sink down onto the floor and close my eyes. Leaning my head back against the table leg, I feel the weight of my exhaustion settle over me. I desperately need food, more drinking water in me and another day’s worth of clean clothes. Hell, I need a month’s worth of sleep to make up for the past few days.
“How did I get myself into this mess?”
Hope is beyond help, a broken shell of a girl with no one in the world to call her own apart from the one kid who is desperately trying to do the right thing by her, but is at a loss as to how to do it. That’s too much pressure on his young shoulders. It would be too much for anyone.
A terrified scream sends me scrambling to my feet and bolting for the door. I hit the ground and sprint across the yard before the screen door slams behind me, splashing through the small stream and straight up the hill. From beside the crumbled barn remains I see the kid sprawled out on the ground, rapidly crawling backwards on his hands and feet.
Narrowing my eyes against the glare of the early morning light, I stare at the tree line and see movement just before the hairs on my arm rise.
“Run, Kid!”
He rolls onto his belly and pushes up to his knees as two Flesh Bags exit the woods. Their skin is pale and flaking, their eyes pure white in deeply set sockets. The Withered on the left is large and lumbering, his gait stunted by a twisted knee. The female on the right stretches out her arms toward the kid as he scrambles back. She looks as if she was shoved into a bag with a feral cat and lost the battle. Ribbons of flesh dangle from her arms, neck and face.
I watch as the kid rolls onto his side and wretches just before the stench of these two hits me like a battering ram. They were turned a while back. Rot and ruin began to set in long before today making them flesh stink of putrid eggs left in the sun to bake.
“Dammit, Kid, I said run!”
Grabbing him by the collar, I shove him aside just before the female makes a dive for him. A guttural growl rises from her throat as she claws at the empty ground, digging her toes into the soil as she tries to make up the difference in distance between them.
“What the hell are they?”
“Now isn’t the best time to discuss this. I need you to get back inside and lock that door!”
I grunt as I am slammed from behind and roll with the woman, tumbling back down the hill several feet. Her teeth gnash as she grapples with my arm, trying to take a chunk out of my bicep.
“Oh crap. It’s trying to eat you!” He shakes his head as he backs away when two more Withered emerge from the trees. “This can’t be happening!”
“Focus, Kid. They followed the smell of Flannery. They weren’t here for us but they have your scent now. You have to run.”
His eyes are wide with panic as he watches me fight with the female. He stumbles backward through the fire pit when the slower male turns to follow him.
“Go! I will distract them while you barricade the house.” I slam my elbow into the woman’s face and feel her nose cave in. Black filthy ooze coats my skin as I roll away and leap to my feet to kick out the legs of the male. He goes down hard.
“Get Hope and search for a way up onto the roof. These things are smart but I have yet to see them climb before. No matter what you see or hear do not come down. Do you understand?”
He continues to stand and stare, frozen in disbelief.
“Kid!”
He blinks and looks at me.
“Move your ass!”
I stomp down on the leg of the female and feel her thigh bone shatter. She doesn’t cry out in pain but only tries to twist around to get ahold of me. I duck to miss a swing from the lumbering male once he’s back in his feet and grab ahold of the girl’s head, smashing it repeatedly against the ground. The back of her head caves in and a thick, sludgy black mess drips from her cracked skull.
The sound of the screen door slamming shut reaches me sec
onds before I’m forced to roll off the female and back to my feet. The newcomers are much faster than the first two, leaving me no time to take the lumbering male down before I duck between them just as they dive for me and sprint for the trees.
I need to lead them away from the homestead before I take them out. Gunshots will only attract more Flesh Bags to the sound. I need to do this quietly.
Weaving through the trees, I go just slowly enough to be sure that I don’t lose them but fast enough to stay a few feet ahead of their grasping fingers. The sun is blinding as it streams down through the forest canopy and I am forced to keep my eyes on the ground. I race across a wider section of the stream, splashing the cold mountain water high enough to soak the bottom of my shirt and dart around rotting trees.
As I reach the hilltop rise, I jump over one of Flannery’s old hunting shacks, run along its decaying wooden roof and cry out when a board gives way. A large jagged edge of the broken wood stabs through my upper thigh and wedges me in place.
From behind me, I can hear the growls and hissing of the Withered. The leader of the pack misjudges the jump and skids along the rooftop, rolling past me with a spine chilling howl. The second jumps with more care and slams into the edge of the roof and scrambles to pull itself up when a third crashes down on its head and I hear the zombie’s neck snap. It falls heavily to the ground below and tumbles past the shack, kicking up decaying leaves and twigs until it slams into a tree and comes to a stop.
A snarl from directly behind sends a jolt of adrenaline racing through me as I raise my hands in defense and wait for the attack. It comes with a sudden and brutal force that rocks me backward hard enough to dislodge me from the hole in the roof. I feel my thigh tear open and blood gush down my leg.
My scream echoes through the trees as I roll down the slanted roof and hit the forest floor hard enough to knock the air out of me. I cough, grasping my chest as I roll to my side and lash out with a hard kick that snaps several ribs.
Pain ricochets through me as hands snatch my hair and yank my head back, exposing my neck. The rank breath of the Withered washes over my face as blood trickles down from the open wound on my forehead. I reach back and jab my fingers at the zombie’s face in search of its eyes.
When I grasp its nose, I hook my fingers through its nostrils and pull. The muscles in my arms tremble as I tear bone and cartilage free.
“Avery!”
The back of my head slams into the Withered’s cheek at the sound of my name. My first thought is that the kid has foolishly followed me, but I look up to see a familiar face pressed to the barrel of an AK-47 assault rifle.
“Shoot!” I jab my elbow into the zombie’s stomach to throw it off balance and jump to the side mere seconds before a bullet whizzes past. The weight of the downed zombie falls on my wounded leg and I cry out.
“Hang on,” Cyrus calls. “I’m coming for you.”
From somewhere over the hill I hear three rapid-fire shots. Birds take flight in the distance as a Cyrus lowers his gun to the ground and shoves the zombie off. He stares down at the blood that pours from my leg.
“Shit, you’re bleeding really badly.” He presses his hand against the wound and I reach out and grab the same area, grimacing at the pain. “We need to create a tourniquet.”
“Hold still,” I grunt and rip a sleeve away from his camouflage uniform then hold it out to him. “Use this.”
He stares at the shredded fabric for a second in amazement but then quickly begins to tie a knot right enough to make my vision darken and my head swim.
“Good?” He asks.
“Just peachy.” I gulp down big breathes as I try to think around the pain. “How did you find me?”
“Same way those dead bastards did. We followed the fire.”
I bite down on my lip when I try to shift and feel my skin peel apart further. The gash is wide and rapidly soaking through the cloth. “I meant before that. How did you get this far?”
Cyrus looks away. “Nox had to find you. A couple of us volunteered to join him. I’m pretty sure Fletcher just wanted to watch his back.”
I nod in understanding. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“Nox has always been good to me. I’d do anything for that guy, including risking my neck for his girl.” He smiles at me. “Nox knew you would do the stupid thing and try to lead his brother away to keep us safe, so we spent the first couple of days trying to track Cable down. We didn’t have much luck, at least not until the Flesh Bags started vanishing.”
I frown, trying to figure out what he means but then it hits me. “He was calling his army to him,” I whisper.
Cyrus nods. “There isn’t much in this world that will make my blood run cold but I gotta tell you that seeing an interstate filled with zombies made me nearly piss myself.”
I knew Cable would come. I just never stopped to consider that Nox and his men would get between us.
“We need to move.” I groan as I try to stand. Applying pressure on my leg is excruciating, but with Cyrus’s help I manage to stand. “There will be other Flesh Bags in the area. Keep your eyes open.”
“Ain’t nothing going to sneak up on—”
Cyrus doesn’t have a chance to finish his sentence when I yank his arm off from around my waist and slam my hand into his chest. He stumbles back, tripping over a tree root just as a streak of white attacks from beside us.
I absorb the brunt of the woman’s impact and roll end over end farther down the hill. Leaves tangle in my hair. Rocks and roots jab at me as I tumble, picking up speed on the steep decline until a towering tree rises up in my path and I slam into it.
My breath wheezes in my lungs as I hold my head, trying to steady the forest as it spins around me. The woman lands on top of me and I claw at the zombie, tearing and scratching at her hair as she grapples with my flailing arms.
When hands wrap around my right leg and yank me out from under the woman I find myself eye to eye with a barrel chested zombie. The entire right side of his body is blackened and charred and he reeks of recent smoke. It snarls down at me before it takes a swipe at me, digging its nails into my upper arm and tearing a long strip of skin away. I howl in pain and beat against it, kicking at its kneecaps with my one good leg.
The woman anchors her hands on my head and yanks it to the side. I barely have time to roll before she comes at me with her teeth barred. The movement sends my stomach hurtling into orbit and I vomit. Acid burns in my throat as I wretch. Everything hurts and I am so tired but when I feel the sharp sting of teeth sinking into my shoulder I scream in outrage.
“Son of a bitch!” I beat against the Withered on my shoulder but its grip is tight. Hands and broken nails claw at my back as I try to fight it off, carving chunks of flesh away. I scream as blood trails down my back, soaking through my sweat drenched shirt. A strange tingling sensation ripples down from my shoulder and I realize too late that I am starting to go numb.
I twist and turn, punching and scratching anything that I can get my good hand on, but they are too strong. Their hideous faces block out the light of the sun as they kneel down above me and I realize that they may be the last thing I ever seen. With all my might I try to focus and call out to them with the same commanding mental voice that I know Cable uses to command his army of Flesh Bags.
Get off of me! The mental command goes out loud and clear, but the Flesh Bags hesitate only for a second, appearing more confused than truly commanded. They open their mouths wide and I close my eyes so that I don’t have to watch.
“Avery! Where are you?”
“Nox!” My voice cracks as the woman’s teeth sink deeper. I can feel her jaws beginning to work as she prepares to bite clean through.
Please don’t chew. It is an insane thought to have when I am facing my end, but I don’t think I can bear to hear her eating me.
Two bullets slice through th
e air on either side of my head and blood and brain matter spray my face. Nox drops the two Withered hovering over me. Tears leak from my eyes as my hand falls limp to the ground and I stare up at the canopy of trees, feeling the numbing cold continue to spread.
From a distance I can hear Nox approaching with a controlled slide down the hill, but it sounds muffled in my ears. I slowly blink and marvel at the way the rays of light illuminate the underside of the leaves, making them a perfect light green.
“It is so beautiful,” I whisper as my eyes droop closed and the numbness takes me.
THIRTEEN
Colors swirl like little rainbow tornadoes before my eyes as I blink and try to focus on them. Each one falls at different rates, some are fast while others lazily tumble toward the blanket that covers me as I lie on something soft. I flex my fingers against the soft material and feel the odd prick of feather shafts.
The air is hot and still despite the window to my right being open. I stare through the screenless space and watch a bee flit around the edge of a flower and realize that it is moving in slow motion. I can see each of its wings as it hovers in place.
That is really trippy.
As my gaze shifts away, I stare at the rounded wooden log wall in front of me and realize that I can see every individual grain knit so tightly together that it begins to blur. A loud sound from behind me applies a steady and rhythmic pressure on my eardrums, its beat so constant that it becomes nearly maddening as I look away from the wall to search for the source.
“Hey,” a voice whispers beside me. I turn my head to see that Nox is sitting in one of the rocking chairs from the back porch next to the bed. The tips of his dark hair look like bursts of white light where the sunlight filters in through the window over his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
I rub my forehead, taking special care to run my fingers along the bridge of my nose before I open my eyes again. Everything is the same and yet so very different. I know that I am in Flannery’s house by the wooden walls and crocheted blanket, but it feels different. Almost as if the air is charged with a sort of kinetic energy that wasn’t there before.