by W. A. R.
“Well?” Shelly demanded as she grabbed the man’s tied feet, Brian gripping him under his arms. They began carrying him to their truck.
Brian shrugged. “We get to finally find out who he is. He saved Amber; we can at least give him a break in a safe place and maybe talk to him. I can thank him properly. ” He replied and he heard her grunt in irritation. He turned to open the door, checking for any Biters around their truck. Once he established that the coast was clear, they began the struggle of getting him into the truck. Shelly was glad that they had set off an alarm in another building a few miles away, the sound blaring in her ears. It lured most of the Biters away from them. She was proud of Brian for thinking of such a thing.
After they struggled with sitting him up in the backseat of the truck, they fished around in his pockets for his truck keys. Without a word, Brian locked his truck and began walking back into the mall, Shelly following behind quickly, once again slinging the baseball bat across her shoulder. They entered the mall and continued walking. He handed her the keys to the Silverado. Shelly easily took them, twirling them around her finger.
“Ok, we told Amber we would meet her five days in at Aunt Carolyn’s. Today is day five.” He grinned at her. “You take his truck and follow me. I will drive with him, just in case he comes to. We will move all of our provisions and weapons into his truck, once again, just in case. We will go the back way through Spearsville. I will be watching you in case you have any trouble. Think you can handle that?” he teased her as he opened the door leading out of the mall and towards the Chevy Silverado. Shelly nodded.
“No problem.”
The bitter taste of polyester in his dry mouth caused him major discomfort; at least until the abrupt feeling of his head splitting open overwhelmed him. He groaned out loud, attempting to move his hands. He needed to feel his head…it was so sore. He kept his eyes closed, expecting a newer, and more blinding pain from the light. It only took a moment before he realized that he couldn’t move his hands, or his feet. Whatever it was binding his wrists began cutting into the skin as he pulled against it. He bit down on the cloth in his mouth, opening his eyes and seeing trees stationary around him and a trailer house before him as he sat in the backseat of a truck. He saw his truck to the right, scarcely hidden behind an old tin building. No one was in his truck, or the current truck, and the keys were gone. He forced himself to calm down, the pain radiating through his skull slowly ebbing away as he became more alert. He looked around the cab of the truck and saw…nothing. There was absolutely nothing; no trash, no food, no weapons of any sort, and certainly no people, with the exception of himself. He sighed angrily, dropping his head against the window behind him. He yelled muffled obscenities through the gag, pain shooting tightly across his head. He felt a trickle of blood run into his hand where the obstacle of getting free became more painful. His wrists felt raw from the failed attempts.
The sudden sound of a door opening caught his attention and he looked up in time to see the guy from the mall watching him from the now open driver’s door. The breaths that were coming in quick succession quieted down as he recognized the man and the sincerity in his eyes. Miles also took note of the worry in them as well. The man, Brian, smiled at him, though it didn’t meet his eyes. A nervous trepidation settled over Miles. This was a man that he had expected to run into, or had hoped rather, when he went searching for her, for Amber. He just hadn’t expected Brian to find him at the mall.
“You remember me then, huh?” the man asked, taking in Miles’s relaxing disposition. Miles nodded calmly; sure that Brian would not harm him. Miles knew him to be very protective, but also morally and ethically sound. He was a general nice guy until someone gave him a reason not to be; granted, Miles had never witnessed that personally. Miles was elated at having found someone, anyone, much less some of the very people that plagued his mind on a daily basis. They were alive. They had made it. He was around actual people again. Brian nodded at him in understanding and rounded the truck, heading towards the door Miles was leaned against. The sun hung low in the sky, which meant that it was mid to late afternoon, and he knew he had been out for most of the day. Miles leaned away from the door as Brian opened it, stepping out of the way so Miles could get out. Very easily, Miles swung his confined legs around so they hung off of the side, and pressing against the truck for balance, eased his feet onto solid ground.
“Now, I am going to take off your restraints, so I am trusting you not to kill me, okay?” he said as he pulled the pocket knife from his pocket. Miles turned dutifully around, stretching his arms back as far as he could. He felt the pull and the snap that released him. He sighed in relief, bringing his hand to his face, removing the gag as Brian cut the zip-ties that bound his feet. Throwing the cloth to the ground and massaging his wrists, he looked around at their surroundings.
“Where are we?” he asked before clearing his throat. He needed a drink in the worst possible way. He turned his focus to Brian, who looked worried. Miles resisted the urge to hug him and tell him how grateful he was that they were alive. Brian stared at him for a long moment before he turned to leave, and Miles followed him, closing the door to the truck.
“We are at my aunt’s house.” Brian stated matter-of-factly. Miles noticed that they were making their way towards his Silverado. It struck him as odd that he didn’t care if they had gone through his things, but then again, these were his friends…or they were once his friends. “It took the better part of the day to get down here. And I am sure glad that you woke up when you did.” He continued as he opened the back passenger door and began rummaging through some things. Miles shifted uncomfortably. He understood that surviving the outbreak was a miracle in itself and that that alone would have changed the man he once was, but he felt underlying tones of something else happening and he didn’t like it. Turning around, he began looking for signs of other people, certain people, or well, a certain person when Brian glanced over his shoulder at Miles. “How are you feeling, by the way? How is your head?”
Miles jerked his attention back to Brian, and shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “It’s sore, but that is about it. I am mainly just confused.” He freely admitted, looking around at everything around them once again. There was an open pasture to the right with a lake that wrapped around the back of the property, behind the house. A decent sized barbed fence wrapped around the property, weak and falling apart in some places. There was a garage, a trailer house, and the tin building, but otherwise, there was nothing. He turned back to Brian, sensing that something was wrong.
“Confused, huh? About which part, exactly?” Brian asked curiously. Miles shrugged once again, staring off into the distance. What wasn’t he confused about? Just a few hours ago he was making plans of coming back to find these people with the hopes that they were alive and then, there he was talking to one of them. His mind kept wondering back to Amber, curious of her whereabouts.
“All of it, but more or less what in the hell happened to me. I am still feeling the after effects of that.” Miles offered with a grin as Brian handed him his guns and knives back. Miles was very much confused, and as he gingerly touched the back of his head, he heard more footsteps rounding the tin building. He felt his heartrate pick up in anxiousness. He placed his weapons on the toolbox, shrugging out of his jacket. He stretched his arms, waiting for the source of the noise to come into view. He saw the dark-haired girl come around and hand Brian a flashlight and a bottle of water. Miles felt instantly deflated. It wasn’t Amber. So…where was she? The woman then smiled at Miles and handed him one as well. He gratefully returned her smile before unscrewing the lid and putting the bottle to his mouth.
“Give us a real name and we can explain what happened.” She said as Brian stood back, shoving a pistol into the waistband of his jeans. Brian turned his focus to Miles, eyebrows raised in curiosity. Miles swallowed thickly, the warm water quenching his thirst. He had no idea who she was, but he could tell that she meant business. H
e remembered her from the incident; then she had been frightened and unsure. By the hard glint in her eyes, he knew she had changed. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she had done or been through to do so.
“Miles.” He offered honestly, hoping that would be enough of an answer. He sighed. Damn, things had gotten so complicated. He was unsure of what to say or how to react around other people now, or at least around people that weren’t infected. It had been months since he came across someone he could actually have a conversation, with no worry of getting bitten. Brian watched him for only a moment longer before shrugging, turning back to the truck. Miles felt his stomach tighten in guilt. He knew what Brian had been asking and now he had to be thinking, questioning Miles’s honesty and integrity. If he supplied them with a fake name, what else had he lied about?
“That’s good enough for me.” He grabbed a shotgun and a knife and turned to the woman. Relief washed over him at not having to explain himself so soon, but also curiosity. Once again, he felt that nervous foreboding overcome him. Brian should have, no, would have, cared more about the person he was. Instead, he was focused on gathering weapons. He was a man on a mission and Miles noted the determined spark in his eye when he stood to face Shelly. Miles set his bottle of water down and began gathering his weapons, unsure of what was going on, but knew he needed to be prepared. “We will be back by nightfall. Keep an eye out for her, but do not let anyone else around, understand?” he asked her and she nodded. “Do you have your gun?”
“Baby, I am fine.” She told him firmly, nodding. Miles shrugged back into his jacket, watching the interaction between the two, the nervous feeling settling into his gut. The feeling simply wouldn’t go away, and he wanted to ask, but knew he shouldn’t. He wasn’t sure he could handle the answer. “Ya’ll go and I will hold down the fort. You don’t have much time left. Get a move on.” She told him and with that she kissed him lightly and turned back towards the house. “I love you.” She tossed back, turning to smile once more at him before disappearing. Brian sighed and closed the door, heading towards the driver’s side. He looked at Miles with conviction, his once half-assed better mood having left with the woman.
“Get in.” he said firmly, and Miles felt his blood begin to boil. What in the hell was going on? The air around them was tight with tension, and it made him feel sick. Reluctantly, he opened the door and climbed in, his head still pounding. He didn’t notice it much, as Brian’s demeanor had most of his attention. Had he changed into such an angry person in the wake of the disaster, or was the same care-free guy still in there somewhere? He shook his head, unsure of what to make of everything. Once he closed the door, he turned to Brian who had set his shotgun beside him.
“Shelly hit you…thought you were a threat. We brought you back here.” Brian told him as he shifted the truck into reverse. His tone was clipped and it seemed as if finding Miles, and the events that had followed, was the furthest thing from his mind. Miles was glad, though, that he wasn’t too interested in exactly who he was, as his mind was still the slightest bit foggy.
“Why? And where are we going? I was unconscious ten minutes ago.” He asked and instantly he regretted it. He wanted to ask who they were looking for, but felt sick with the thought because he already knew the answer. He swallowed thickly and watched Brian shift back into drive and turn towards the end of the driveway. Miles watched as he rubbed a hand across his face in thought. He wanted to take it back. He didn’t want to know.
“We recognized you and decided that we could at least talk to you and see what you wanted to do….what I mean is, if you wanted to come back with us or not. We have a good place and we have good people.” He looked at Miles before turning back to the winding road before them. Miles’s expression remained impassive, although he felt some sort of…excitement (?) at the prospect of keeping company. “But that is a discussion for a later time. You know us, Miles.” He stated plainly, leaving no room for discussion and raising a dismissive hand at him as Miles began to disagree. “Don’t deny it. It is no use. Now I don’t know why you would lie about your name, and quite frankly, I don’t care. Right now I need your help, and given the circumstances of our past experiences, I know you are going to help me.”
Miles grimaced at the memory and felt the sudden need to explain himself. He really didn’t need or want them to think he was out of his mind, or that he was some form of being mentally unstable. “Brian, I…”
Brian once again waved a dismissive hand at him as he slowed to turn left onto Stateline road. “Like I said, I don’t care. I just need your help, and then we can talk about everything that needs to be discussed. There are far more important matters at hand.”
Miles squeezed his eyes tightly shut, knowing he had to ask. “Well,…what are we doing then?”
Brian turned his worried gaze to Miles. “Looking for Amber.”
Miles swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat. He felt the rock that had formed in the pit of his stomach sink even lower. He knew that was what was going on, he just denied it. “So, my guess is she was supposed to be in your aunt’s house and she wasn’t.” he stated. He glanced out of the window and watched the trees flow past. He saw a small white wooden church off of the road, and could have sworn there was a flash of something brown, and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He rubbed the back of his neck and shuddered, the apprehension not letting go. He was seeing things.
“In a nutshell. We agreed to meet her there today, and she wasn’t there. No one has been there.” Brian stated as Miles felt tension rest on his shoulders. He turned in his seat to see if he could still see the church. It was out of sight, but certainly not out of mind. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Shelly believes that Amber misunderstood and we were supposed to pick her up somewhere else in Thurston. That’s what I told her because frankly I can’t handle Amber missing and Shelly flipping out.”
“How am I supposed to help?” he asked, but he already knew the answer to that as well. He shook his head. How had he gotten into this situation? Just that morning he had been wondering if he were possibly the last person on earth, and now he was in a situation that involved people that,…well, people that haunted his memories.
“In case we run into trouble. You have my back and I have yours.” He stated simply before slowing down. He was staring at something white in the road. Miles looked as well before Brian slowed the truck to a complete stop. He grabbed his gun and knife as Brian threw the truck in park. Both men checked around them for Biters before climbing out of the truck. Armed and ready, they both approached it.
“It’s a shoe.” Miles pointed out the obvious, beginning to survey their surroundings. What he saw made his blood roar in his ears. The church once again came into view in his mind and he quickly shut it down; leaving his skin still prickling with the pull of it.
“It’s Amber’s shoe.” He said, picking up the white, teal, and gray tennis shoe. Miles saw blood smeared on the sides and couldn’t stop the uncertainty that ran through him. He turned away quickly, unable to stomach the thoughts that ran through him with the sight. What he saw next was worse.
“Brian…” Miles began, getting his attention. Brian stood, tears in his eyes, and turned to Miles. Miles pointed to the bridge where the concrete barrier was shattered in one area, big chunks and pieces littered across the road next to skid marks from the pressure of the brakes on an unstoppable car. Brian swallowed thickly and walked over to the impact point. Miles right behind him, trying desperately to calm his own nerves. His heart felt as if it were going to beat right out of his chest. He didn’t want to see it, any of it; he was happier in blissful ignorance. But that did not stop either of them from looking, searching. Once they reached the barrier, they surveyed the ground below. The first thing they saw was Amber’s car, the entire thing bent to hell and back, glass scattered on the ground around it, and a back door open. The second thing they saw was about ten biters in and surrounding her car.
They readied their weapons and jumped into action. Nothing had to be said, they just both initially understood. They ran to the side of the bridge, sliding down the hill as fast as they could. There were no other thoughts than to fight.
“Amber!” Brian called. No one answered, but it definitely caught the Biters’ attention. They began shuffling as fast as they could towards the pair, but they were prepared. Brian held his knife tightly, ramming it into the temple of the oncoming Biter. He jerked it out, kicking one that had been off to the side, making it lose its balance. The acrid stink of death overwhelmed him as he plunged the knife into yet another Biter. He heard a groan behind him and felt something wet hit his neck. He turned round quickly to see a limp Biter drop to the ground, Miles behind it, just inches away. Brian took a step back and lost his balance. He fell, seeing that he tripped over the Biter that he had knocked down. He kicked him in the face as the Biter clawed at the dirt, gripping his left pant leg. Miles rushed over and brought the heel of his foot down as hard as he could, splattering blood and brain on the surrounding ground and Brian. Brian grimaced in return before standing. They nodded at one another and continued towards the car, Brian kneeling down to kill another. They looked around them, seeing that the only ones left were the ones stuck in the car.
“Amber’s other shoe.” Brian said breathlessly, rubbing the sweat off of his nose and onto his arm. Miles turned to look and sure enough, there was the other shoe at the bottom of the hill. Miles turned away, scowling in disgust and anger. They looked around more and saw a flashlight, a gun, obvious signs of struggle, and blood and body parts scattered across the ground. Everything was silent as they stared at the sight around them. Brian rubbed a hand across his face, ridding himself of the tears that began to fall, even as Miles felt his emotions beginning to get the best of him. Moans echoed through the dry basin and reached their hollow ears and they turned their attention back to the car. They shared a look of understanding, before splitting up and going to either side of the car. Brian leaned in and took out three through the open door, Miles taking out two on the other side; both men appreciating the easiness with which it took to kill biters that were trapped.