Alive Again | Book 1

by Piperbrook, T. W.

  22

  Dead Giveaway

  My heart goes cold. I clutch the edge of the loveseat, ready to spring up and make a run for my life. Ted’s hateful diatribe comes hurtling back. Once again, we’re on the wrong end of a gun, but this time, we have no chance at escape. Cody stiffens beside me; he glances sideways in my direction. Of course, June’s gun prevents us from making any irrational moves. I wish we were anywhere but here, but it was either run with June or become dinner.

  “You were infected, but not anymore,” June says resolutely. She cocks her head, looking at our eyes. “Someone brought you back.”

  Thinking better of a pointless denial, I opt for silence.

  June looks between us. Maybe I’m mistaken, but does she look curious, instead of afraid? “If I wasn’t looking at you, I wouldn’t believe it was possible. How did it work? Was it a shot?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cody finally speaks.

  “I noticed your eyes right away,” June cuts in, as if we share a secret. “Like I said, I was watching you when you pulled up in that bus.” She pulls a pair of binoculars from beneath a couch cushion, holding them up. “If not for what you were, I probably would’ve let you get eaten. Or I woulda shot you, like I said. But I had to see. I had to know.”

  I swallow thickly.

  “How long has it been since you came back?”

  I don’t respond, afraid to commit to a truth that will get us killed.

  “Who helped you?”

  Silence.

  June shakes her head disbelievingly. “I’d heard whispers about people like you. People that Wandered and came back. People that escaped the infection and lived again. It didn’t seem real to me; of course, nothing about this world seems real. I wanted to believe it, but it seemed so far-fetched…a rumor made up by the ignorant, or the foolish.” June lowers her head. “I suppose if I’d believed it, maybe things would’ve gone differently for Trevor.”

  Levi hugs her tighter, studying our faces. “They were like the crazy people? The ones who eat us?”

  “That’s right,” June says, waiting for us to confirm. “But someone saved them. They brought them back into the land of the living.”

  Our silence feels as damming as an answer.

  “How come you aren’t talking? Is it true?” the little boy asks, dumbfounded. “Did you used to eat people?”

  It doesn’t matter what I say. They’ve made up their minds.

  June’s mouth hangs open with wonder.

  The little boy can’t keep his eyes off us. Shifting uncomfortably, I search for the words that will keep us safe. I’m surprised to see tears in the corners of June’s eyes again. She reaches up and dabs them.

  “They don’t look any different from regular people.” Levi cocks his head to the side. “They kinda look like Jenny and Jay.”

  I look around the room, as if more people might pop out and surprise us.

  June sniffles. “I suppose they do, baby.” She beckons to the rear wall of the house, explaining, “Our closest neighbors had two teenagers, Jenny and Jay. You remind my son of them. They died long ago.”

  Silence falls over the room, save some faraway, blood-curdling wails.

  “They don’t look like they’re gonna eat us, though,” Levi says. “I think they look nice.”

  His honest reaction makes his mother smile through her tears. Her smile quickly disappears.

  “You know what? I don’t think they’ll eat us, either,” June says, intently training the gun. “In fact, I think we have more in common than they realize.” She elbows young Levi in the ribs. “Show ‘em, honey.”

  Holding out a skinny forearm, the boy reveals a tightly wrapped bandage. “I got bit too.”

  “And now you’re going to save him,” June says.

  23

  The Proposal

  Cody and I sit rigid in our seats, staring at the dirty wrapping on the wounded boy’s arm. Pink seepage bleeds through the underside of the bandage; the edges are frayed, as if he’s been picking at it. Noticing the change in our demeanor, he inspects his forearm curiously, before turning back to his mother.

  “I’m going to be okay, though, right Mommy?”

  “Yes, honey,” June reassures him, pulling him close for another hug. “You’ll be just fine. Why don’t you play in your room while I talk to these people? Remember to keep away from the windows.”

  With an obedient nod, he pads across the room toward the hallway. A door clicks closed. He’s out of sight, and it’s just us and June again.

  Leaning close enough that we can see the resolve in her eyes, June says, “You’re going to tell me everything you know, and you’re going to save my son.” Her hands tremble on the gun; tears roll down her cheeks. “And if you don’t…”

  She shakes her weapon. For the first time, I see a crack in her hard exterior.

  Hoping to keep her talking instead of shooting, I ask, “When was he bitten?”

  June’s face bunches with emotion. “Two days ago. We…we went out to the well to get water. I told Levi he could operate the hand pump. I’ve been teaching him, you know, the way things work around here. Obviously, he’ll need to learn them. I guess none of that matters now.” She chokes back a sob.

  I think better of a useless platitude.

  “I was washing our clothes while he used the pump,” June goes on. “I always keep him close! I was only a handful of steps away…but that’s all it takes, as anyone with half a brain knows.” She shakes her head ashamedly. “Levi was so excited about showing me the water he’d filled. I told him I’d be right there. I was scrubbing out a stain in a shirt…we didn’t see the infected; it raced out of nowhere and latched onto him like lightning.” She winces, reliving the moment. “I rushed over, flung it off, and stabbed it dead. But it’d already gotten him.”

  Thinking of how quickly Sarah and Ian were killed, I say, “It’s not your fault,” and I mean it.

  “I’m not stupid enough to believe that.” June shakes her head angrily. “If I’d paid more attention, my little boy wouldn’t be in this situation. But he is. And now it’s your turn to talk.”

  Her expression hardens, and she shakes the gun at us again. Cody looks sideways at me, and I wonder if it’s one of the last glances we’ll share.

  Fearing a bullet to the teeth, Cody launches into our story. He starts with how he woke up in a shed in someone’s backyard. Shivers run through me as he explains his confusion at seeing Ian and Sarah—two strangers to him—and his confusion at being pinned down. I’ve never heard the full details of his story, but his tale is similar to mine, and so is his pain. He recounts his first, uneasy night sleeping behind some barns, and another sleeping outside a convenience store, and Sarah’s warnings about this nightmarish new world. He concludes with the few details we have about the Outpost we’ll probably never find.

  When he’s done, it’s my turn to talk.

  I recall my similar wakeup, Ian and Sarah’s care and concern, and how they died protecting me. I tell her about the things that Cody and I have survived, including the stricken hanging off the bus, and the hateful men at the park. If the tale had happened to someone else, I wouldn’t have believed it. But it’s all true, and by the look on June’s face, I can tell she believes me.

  Sympathy softens her hard stare. By the time I’m finished, she looks less menacing, or at least like she’s no longer about to shoot us.

  Momentary silence falls over the room.

  “People are cruel,” June finally says, lowering her gun to the floor. “If this past year has taught me anything, it’s that.”

  A wave of emotion hits me. Before I can dwell on it, June asks some clarifying questions.

  “You still don’t remember what happened when you were infected?”

  “No. The people who helped us—Ian and Sarah—said amnesia is a side effect of the injection.” I look at Cody. “They didn’t tell us if, or when, our memories would return.” There’s no w
ay I’m telling her about our nightmares, and I can see by Cody’s relieved expression he agrees.

  Captivated, June asks, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  “Going to sleep in my room.” I rehash a few old memories. “The night before, I was at my house, getting ready for school in the morning. When I woke up, everything was different, changed.”

  “And you say you have more of these injections?”

  Cody and I look at each other. Slowly, we nod.

  “How many shots did they give you?”

  “One, I think?” I shrug.

  “What’s in them?”

  “We don’t know,” Cody says.

  Taking back over, I say, “Sarah and Ian didn’t know, either. All we know is that it only works on specific people. We don’t even know what the qualifications are. And we don’t know anything else about the vaccine, or the booster shots. And of course, we don’t know where the Outpost is.”

  “All we know is that we’re saved…for now,” Cody says.

  June leans forward in her seat. Hope and fear are at war inside her. She looks over her shoulder toward where Levi disappeared, and I feel a prick of cold uncertainty. We’ve already told her what we know. Have we lost our use? Abruptly, she turns to face us, but she keeps her gun lowered.

  “I believe you’re telling the truth,” she says with a firm nod. “And I think you can help my son. I’ve got a proposal.”

  Cody and I listen intently. Pretty much anything is preferable to being shot.

  “Give me a few doses of this cure, and you can stay here until those things leave.”

  I glance sideways at Cody. He nods.

  “Deal,” Cody says.

  I close my eyes and exhale with relief; June relaxes in her seat on the couch.

  “Levi? You can come back in now. Mommy’s done talking.”

  24

  Weight of the World

  June wipes some sweat from her brow. It’s as if a turbulent cloud has passed over the room; we can all breathe again. Heeding his mother’s call, Levi scurries back into the room, clearly eager to rejoin us.

  “What’s it like out there? Where did you come from?” He looks at us like we’re the first human beings he’s ever seen.

  I open my mouth to respond, but he interrupts again.

  “Can I ride in your bus?”

  “Levi…” June scolds gently. “Where are your manners?” Turning toward us, she asks, “Would you like a drink of water?”

  Her neighborly demeanor is startling, after our tense introduction. It’s as if a switch has flipped inside her. Still shaking from yet another tenuous bout with death, I nod.

  “How about you?” June asks Cody.

  “Sure,” he says, also trembling.

  “Why don’t you go get a pitcher and some cups?” June instructs Levi, who helpfully bounds off. Once he’s out of sight again, June stands from her seat, grabs the binoculars, and walks to a peephole in one of the boarded-up windows. She scans outside for a moment before reporting, “There are still a handful of those happy idiots near your bus. They’ll probably be there a while.”

  Worry gnaws my insides. “Did any get inside?”

  “Doesn’t look like it.” She moves her head from side to side. “At least you were smart enough to shut the doors.”

  I nod. Of course, she’s itching to get the injections we promised—we have no idea when Levi will suddenly decide to tear us all to pieces. Returning to her seat, she sets down the binoculars and speaks in a low tone so that Levi is less likely to hear.

  “I haven’t slept much since my son was bitten. Every night, I wake up to check on him, examining his bite, hoping it might just disappear. Of course, it’s still there.” She sighs in anguish. “They say the virus affects children more slowly. He hasn’t shown any symptoms yet, but who knows when he might turn?”

  A few quiet clinks echo from the kitchen; Levi’s still gathering our drinks.

  “I’ve heard rumors that some people are immune, but there’s no actual evidence. Of course, I can’t count on a fool’s hope.” Making sure she understands what we’ve told her, June says, “So, I’ll need to wait for him to turn.”

  “That’s what we understand,” Cody confirms. “The injection brings people back. I’m not sure if it could prevent the infection.”

  June grapples with too many thoughts. “I wouldn’t test something like that on my son. What if he doesn’t need it and the injection hurts him?” She exhales loudly. “Of course, there’s a chance the shot will do nothing at all, even after he turns…”

  “That’s right,” Cody answers honestly.

  Levi returns to the room toting a plastic pitcher of water and four cups. He smiles and hands everything to his mother, who pours us each a glass and walks them over.

  “Here you go,” she says.

  “Thanks,” I say gratefully.

  “We’ve got a hand-pump behind the house for water,” June explains, nodding over her shoulder. “It tastes better than that chemical-filled garbage most people used to drink before the Collapse.”

  The Collapse, I repeat internally, committing the word to memory.

  Cody downs his beverage, but I wait for June and Levi to take a sip before I have a drink of my own. Caution is becoming second nature. But the water is fresh and clear, and they drink it without hesitation, so I do, too.

  “Trevor installed a new well a few years ago,” June says, back on the couch. “It’s got a motorized pump and a hand-pump both. 'Course, the motor is of no use these days.”

  “Do you have a generator?” Cody asks.

  “We have one, but using it would be suicide. Anyone within earshot would hear it and crash the party.”

  I take another small swig, and Cody finishes his last few drops. For a while, we sit there without speaking, listening to the chirp of cicadas outside and the whisper of a gentle breeze. I’m halfway dozing off when Levi’s face lights up.

  “Want to see my room?” He sits up excitedly.

  I look over at June, hesitant.

  She walks to the window, peering out again. “It looks like those things are over at the stables. We’ve got a little distance from them, for the moment. But we’ll have to be quiet and quick.”

  Levi waves us toward the hallway.

  Cody and I follow him, while June accompanies us with her shotgun. Like a seasoned tour guide, Levi leads us to the first door, a beaming smile on his face. Astronomy posters line every inch of wall space. Plastic stars cover the ceiling; a neon galaxy. Foam planets dangle from the ceiling on thin pieces of twine.

  Levi bounds across the room and grabs something from the floor: a hollow aluminum sphere on a stand.

  “Look at this!” he says. A childish grin lights up Levi’s face as he holds up a globe, showing us. “This is the whole world.” He points a small finger at the contoured shapes. “Do you know where we are?”

  I study the map, pretending to think. “Is that us?”

  “You’re right!” Levi beams. “That’s North America. And this is South America. And allll the way over here? That’s Africa.”

  “That’s cool!” I smile warmly at him. “Do you know where Antarctica is?”

  He squints hard, studying the round blue ball. After a moment, he gestures toward the correct location. “There?”

  “That’s right!” I confirm.

  Excited, he gently sets the world down, coaxing me toward a pile of Minecraft figures. I glance over at June for permission, surprised to find a half-smile on her face. “It’s been a while since he’s had anyone other than me to talk to. Go ahead. Just keep it down.”

  While June and Cody talk quietly by the door, Levi continues his grand tour. After showing me some plastic army men, he plucks up a few Legos, demonstrating how he builds towers.

  “Mom says I can play with my Legos, but I have to keep them out of the middle of the room, so I don’t trip,” he remembers.

  “That’s a good idea,” I tell him. “
Your mother’s smart.”

  “The smartest.” He beams, taking my hand and showing me a pile of DVDs, and then a stack of books. “I’m still learning to read. These used to be on my bureau, but we needed it to block the back door.” His face falls. “I’m hoping I can have it back real soon.”

  His words strike a chord of sadness in me. If not for the boards over the windows, we might be in any child’s room, on any normal day. It’s easy to forget the world outside is filled with violence and decay.

  “That’s my bed,” Levi explains, pointing to a blue race car with messy sheets and pillows. “I mostly sleep in Mom’s room now, though. And my clothes are over there.”

  He points to a pile of carefully folded clothes along one wall.

  “What’s in the closet?” I ask, pointing to the slightly opened door.

  “That’s where I keep my sports stuff,” Levi tells me. Walking to the door, he carefully slides it open, revealing a child’s baseball bat, a glove, and a hockey stick. “We haven’t used that stuff in a while, though. Mom says it’ll bring the Wanderers. Maybe some day.”

  “I used to play field hockey. Have you ever played it?”

  “Not yet,” Levi says.

  “Maybe one day, you’ll learn.”

  “Hopefully. Well, that’s my room!” Levi proudly closes the closet door. “What was your favorite part?”

  I make a show of thinking about it. “Probably the globe.”

  “Mine, too!” he says, spinning back over to where June and Cody stand at the door, hefting the sphere again. With a wide smile, he says, “She liked my room!”

  “It’s been so long since Levi’s had friends over…” June says with a smile, trailing off. “In fact, I can’t remember the last time he showed someone his things. This is good for him.”

  Levi hops on one leg, while June gently calms him down.

  “Can they stay for lunch, Mom?” Levi’s face brightens.

  June shifts, watching Cody and me. She certainly trusts us more now than when we first met; then again, she still has our weapons.