It was a farm, and it was just as dark as the night around it, with nobody in sight.
She stopped and looked behind her, listening.
Nothing moved, and the only sound was from the rare gusts of wind drifting its way across the empty fields.
She cautiously climbed out of the ditch and crossed the road to the other side where the farm lay. There was a barn next to the house, with a silo standing behind it. Any of the structures would probably be suitable to stay in for the night, as long as there was something warm to wrap herself in.
Sarah hobbled across the field toward the barn, which was the closest building. She was really starting to feel the pain in her ankle, as all the activity and strain had taken its toll. If she hadn't damaged it enough already, it soon might have been to the point where she wouldn't be able to walk on it at all.
The whole property appeared to be empty, and when she pulled open the barn door, she was greeted by a cold draft and nothing else.
She pulled the flashlight out of her pocket and flicked it on. She swept the light across the interior of the barn. There were a couple hay bales stacked in the corner and some old farm equipment sitting around, and a ladder leading up to a small loft. But otherwise, the barn was empty.
Sarah pulled the barn door shut and threw the latch across to lock it. She walked over the floor, keeping the flashlight trained on the ground to look for something warm to wrap herself in. She made a round and found nothing but dusty straw. When she pointed the light up toward the loft, she saw something she wasn't expecting.
A hangman's noose hung from a rafter next to the loft. No one's neck had been occupying it, but the sight made her jerk around, throwing the flashlight into all corners of the barn, suddenly unsure if she was really alone.
But she was. Whoever had been here before, through whatever circumstance, appeared to have left a long time ago. A chill came over her, and she didn't feel comfortable staying in the barn anymore, but she was too tired and too beaten-down to move anywhere else.
Scanning the light along the edge of the loft above her, she saw the corner of a blanket hanging down. It was right next to the ladder, and it looked pretty thick. She set down the rifle on the floor and hobbled over to the ladder. She gripped the flashlight tightly in her hand and grabbed onto a rung before looking down at her feet and wondering how she was going to do this with her ankle. She leaned to her good side, putting all the weight on it, then she pulled up with her arms and hopped her good foot up to the first rung. She reached up to the next rung with her hands and carefully hopped up again. She took her time, and eventually she got high enough to reach the blanket.
Putting the flashlight in her mouth while she held onto the ladder with one hand, she reached out with her other hand and grabbed it. It slid off the loft easily and she let it fall over the edge and drop to the ground. She carefully made her way back down to the floor and pulled the flashlight out of her mouth, laying the blanket out flat before flicking it off.
The blanket was made of thick wool and it was more than big enough to cover her body. She scraped together a small pile of straw on the floor to one end of the blanket to use as a pillow, then she slowly climbed under the blanket, feeling all the aches and pains shoot through her.
Everything was silent and peaceful, and she was already dead tired. Falling asleep would be easy.
But it wasn't. She closed her eyes and let sleep take her, but it didn't visit her just then, and she tossed and turned endlessly as terrible thoughts forced their way into her head. The horrifying images from the mall flashed behind her eyelids, like a projector was playing them on a screen. She saw every sight, heard every sound, and felt every bit of heat, pain and emotion. The projector rewound the reel and played earlier films, showing her the killer crawling out from under the bed and attacking her, chasing her and causing her to fall out the window. She heard his voice in the woods. She saw the sleeping bag and all the blood surrounding her, the four cold and lifeless heads watching her dream. The movie showed her the first dead body she came across, stabbed and bitten.
Just when she thought it would stop, it went back further. It went to the massacre at Zed's camp. It played her son's death, every foul encounter on their way to Noah's Ark, and everything they had endured for the past eight years leading right up to his birth and that terrible night when her husband drove her to the hospital and something felt a little off.
Sarah cried. And then she sobbed uncontrollably, choking on her own uneven breaths. Her chest heaved up and down shallowly as a tight ball wound up inside of it. She clutched at it in pain as she rolled around on the dirty floor beneath the musty blanket. Everything came to her all at once—every emotion, every painful memory.
She couldn't take it anymore. Even after everything she'd been through, she pushed forward, stubbornly fighting against the fate that the world was trying to hand to her. But she wasn't going to fight it anymore. She was tired, she was afraid, and she was alone. Above all else, she couldn't stand being alone.
She looked up and saw the dark ring of the noose hanging from the rafter. It had scared her when she first came into the barn, but now she understood that it was a message. She threw the blanket to the side and got up to her feet, still sputtering for breath. The pain was unbearable, but she knew it would be over soon. She made her way to the ladder again and climbed up. It seemed harder this time, like she had a heavy weight tied around her waist, trying to drag her down. But she fought against it and made her way up one rung at a time.
When she was three-quarters of the way up the ladder, she carefully turned around and reached out for the circle of rope. She pressed a hand against the rafter to steady herself, and she leaned her head forward and slipped it through the noose. The weight on her leg felt so heavy and it suddenly felt like a toothpick, ready to snap from the strain. All she had to do was let go and she would be taken care of. She told herself she would get to see her son again. She would get to see her husband again. At the very least, she wouldn't have to be afraid anymore, and that in itself was worth it.
So she let go.
She gave a little hop forward and let gravity do the rest as her body quickly dropped and the rope yanked against her throat. The pain of it was incredible and she never felt a sensation of being so breathless before as the tension nearly put her into shock.
Then something snapped and she hit the ground hard. She groaned and rolled around on the floor, seeing stars. Her lungs desperately pleaded for air, and after a moment her throat opened and the rush of oxygen filled them. She gasped and coughed, holding her throat where the scratchy rope was still wrapped around.
She pulled the noose off her head and saw that the rope had snapped, leaving a short frayed end tied to the rafter above. Sarah started to cry harder than ever before. She finally made the decision to end everything and she couldn't understand why it wasn't over.
She crawled over to the AK-47 lying next to the blanket and picked it up. She sat up on her knees and without hesitation put the barrel of the gun into her mouth, tilting it up toward her brain. She closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger.
The gun clicked, but didn't fire.
She pulled the trigger again and again, but nothing happened. She held the side of the rifle up to her face, trying to see in the darkness, and she could see the charging handle was pulled back, with two cartridges jammed in the chamber, causing a double feed.
Sarah threw the rifle away from her and it bounced around on the floor before coming to rest and leaving only the sounds of her labored breathing and panicked sobs echoing in the drafty barn.
For a long time she cried. Eventually, she crawled back under the blanket as the pain in her throat eased, and she quickly fell asleep, too tired to fight anymore, even for her own death.
Her eyes opened to find light coming into the barn through the cracks in the walls. She lifted her head off the floor, which sometime in the night had found its way off the little straw pile she made and onto the
stiff wood. She slowly started to move her body, and found all the traces of pain from the days before, but yet everything felt a little better, including her mood.
The events of the night before seemed like a bad dream, and it was only when she looked up and saw the frayed rope hanging above her and the broken noose next to her that she knew everything was absolutely real.
She rotated her ankle, and it felt a little better.
The blanket had kept her warm through the night, and she felt almost comfortable. She sat up and got up to her feet, keeping the blanket wrapped around her shoulders for warmth. She made her way over to the barn door as the old floor creaked under her feet. She pulled the latch off and slid open the door to find a winter wonderland outside.
A thick blanket of snow covered the ground, and it continued to lightly fall from the sky. It must have been at least three inches, and for a brief moment she forgot all the torment she was going through as her inner child came to the surface and delighted at the glistening whiteness all around her. It reminded her of old Christmas mornings, and the cold suddenly didn't seem so bad.
As she stood in the doorway of the barn, admiring the scenery, she thought about what happened the night before. She didn't try to hide from what she attempted, and she didn't want to. She took a mature approach to it and accepted that at the time it was what she wanted to do.
But now she felt differently. The crisp morning gave her new perspective, and it was as if the fresh air had cleaned the soot off her lungs from the night before and cleaned the poison thoughts from her brain.
She remembered standing on the ladder with the noose around her neck and the feeling that a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, comforted that it would soon be over. She remembered the warm feeling that she wouldn't have to be afraid anymore, and though the circumstances changed in the morning, she decided that the sentiment did not.
She wasn't going to be afraid anymore. She was through with running, through with hiding. She had made peace with everything that happened in her life, the good and the bad. Whether it was fate or not, her will was to stay on this earth and keep fighting. Fighting for what exactly, she didn't know. But that was her choice. From that day on she was going to take control of her own destiny and face her fears. In the bright shine of the morning, even the lunatic stalking her seemed small.
Sarah turned and walked back into the barn, picking up the AK-47. She looked into the chamber again and saw the two cartridges jammed against each other, fighting for position. She yanked the magazine from the gun and racked the charging handle until the chamber was cleared. She inspected it again, then she pushed the magazine back into the rifle and racked it once more. She held it against her cheek as she aimed up at the frayed rope hanging from the rafter. She lined up her eye down the sights and steadied her breath. When she had a clear shot, she tightened her finger on the trigger, but not enough to fire a round.
"Bang," she whispered.
She slung the gun over her shoulder and walked to the barn door again. She took one last look into the interior, into the face of her own misery and despair, then she turned and walked out into the brilliant white of the calm morning outside.
15
Shopping List
The granola bar that she found underneath the gondola shelf was stale as hell and so chewy it almost broke her teeth to bite through it. She ate it with a grimace, trying to focus on the map spread out in front of her. She looked over the city of Raleigh from a topographic view, studying where she was and what would be a realistic place to make a stand against the killer.
She was still on the fringes of the city and it would be quite a walk to get to a more urban area, and she didn't think she would be able to reach any of those in time before he tracked her down. Whatever location she chose, she needed to get there soon. She was surprised he hadn't tried to get to her in the night, and fleeting thoughts of half-fantasy wondering if he had ended up burning to death in the mall danced through her head. But she knew the grim reality was that she wasn't going to get off that easily.
Sarah had narrowed it down to a few locations, but her gut told her to go to the hospital. There was another hospital deep inside Raleigh that was bigger, but this one was on the edge of the city and seemed like it was built first, leading her to believe it might have been an old hospital that was shuttered before the apocalypse. If that were the case, it would probably be empty. It was still a big building and there would be a lot of escape routes inside so she wouldn't trap herself if she had to retreat. That would work to his advantage as well, giving him a lot of places to hide and potentially sneak up on her, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve that he wouldn't see coming.
She took a good look at the map again to get a sense of where she was going, then she folded it up and slipped it in the pocket of the winter coat she took from the farmhouse after she left the barn. When she finished her years-old granola bar, she dropped the wrapper on the floor and headed out of the convenience store.
The snow continued to fall, though it had almost petered out completely, leaving about four inches total on the ground, and she was glad not to have it any higher with her ankle. It remarkably felt better today, but she knew she still had to be gentle on it until it could heal properly.
She trudged through the snow, heading up the road for the hospital. Her eyes scanned the whiteness around her and saw no signs of footprints other than hers. She held onto the strap of the AK around her shoulder, ready for anything, and ever since waking up that morning, she had never felt so powerful in her life; for better or worse, she was now in control of her own destiny.
Sarah figured she would probably reach the hospital sometime in the afternoon, but before she got there, she had another stop to make first.
The Walmart parking lot was empty save for the usual bunch of abandoned cars. She crept through it, keeping her eyes open and peeking from one car interior to the next. But things were quiet.
The sliding doors at the entrance were only open about a foot, and she pried them open a little farther and slipped inside.
The store had an unusually musty smell and dust particles floated in the air as she turned on the flashlight and moved it around, checking each dark corner carefully as she went. It was dead quiet, and her footsteps could probably be heard all the way at the opposite corner of the huge department store.
Something moved above her head, making a squawking noise.
Sarah ducked down, brandishing the flashlight above her and reaching for her gun.
A fat sparrow fluttered down and cut through the flashlight's beam before flying through the gap in the sliding doors.
Sarah stood up as her heart settled and she swallowed the saliva in her mouth. She carried on, looking around and trying to find what she would need. Her first stop was in the outdoor department, and she found a big backpack and slung it over her shoulders.
The aisles passed by as she crossed the store. At first, she was still wary about zombies or other dangers lurking in the shadows, but she found no one. Sarah walked down a few aisles that struck her fancy, judging the items on each shelf with a careful eye. Some things she picked up, looking them over in her hands, only to shake her head and put them back down. She had an idea in her head of what she needed, and she had to find the right items.
One of the first things she checked for was more ammo for the AK, but the locked shelf had been smashed open and nothing was left except a film of dust.
In the hardware section, she found a pack of nails that she shoved into the backpack. She also found a can of primer spray. She read the label on the can in the light, making sure it would do the trick. Satisfied, she grabbed two of them and moved on. On the way to the sporting goods section, she picked up a roll of tape, then she browsed football equipment, trying on a variety of helmets to see what fit her head. She found one in her size and tied the face mask to a strap on the outside of the backpack, letting it hang.
At the end of the aisle Sarah picked up
a wooden baseball bat. She held it out in her hands and weighed the heft of it, taking a few practice swings. She hoped the gun would be enough, but she couldn't be too careful. She tapped the end of the bat to the abandoned shelves as she continued on, creating a hypnotic echo to keep herself entertained.
She decided she just needed another few items before she would feel confident to face the killer. After adding a box of thumbtacks and a couple of road flares to her inventory, she continued browsing for one need in particular, but she didn't know quite what to look for. But when she came upon the book section, she stopped and smiled. Sarah pulled open the backpack and walked along the shelves, tipping books indiscriminately into it, getting his many as she could, while still leaving a little bit of room inside.
She zipped it up and wrapped the backpack around her shoulders again, the new weight of it tugging her down, and she wandered off to the back of the store where she hadn't been yet. Sarah passed a swinging door leading to a McDonald's, then the photo studio, as she came to the automotive department.
It was in its own alcove connected to the rest of the store, and Sarah was cautious when entering it, looking around for other exits in case she had to make a quick escape. As she walked past tall shelves stacked with tires, she saw there were some doors leading to offices and one that looked like it led outside, and that put her mind at ease. And next to that door, she found the last item on her list.
A display full of jugs of windshield washer fluid sat against the wall, and she grabbed one and just barely managed to squeeze it into the backpack, zipping it up and putting it over her shoulders. It became very heavy, and she knew the rest of the trek to the hospital wouldn't be fun.
A noise echoed in the store, like a swinging door creaking open.
Sarah froze and stared at the entrance to the automotive department. She couldn't see anything from where she stood, and she waited, her grip around the baseball bat tightening.
Ashes in the Mouth (Zombie Apocalypse Series Book 3) Page 14