by W. A. R.
They were breathing heavily, sweat hanging on their brows. Apprehension tickled the back of his neck again. The church once again crossed his mind, and he closed his eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of his nose in pain. He reluctantly opened his eyes, analyzing the situation in the car. Dried blood covered the seats, console, and dash. He looked up at Brian, who had his arms crossed over his head on the roof of the car; head buried in them, and shoulders shaking with sobs.
Miles sighed, rubbing the tears from his eyes. It was too much; after Michael, he simply couldn’t do it. Why had he thought he could? He lifted his eyes to the heavens desperately. Why had he been put in that mall at that time with Brian of all people? What were the odds? Slim to none. So was it divine intervention, fate, that brought him here? The church, yet again, stuck out in his mind again and he shot a look across the car to Brian. It would be worth a shot to look anyways. “The church.” He stated simply, softly, almost low enough not to be heard.
Brian looked up at him in confusion and hope. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. “Did you see something?” he asked and Miles immediately lowered his gaze.
“Well, technically, no, but…” and he stopped, both he and Brian jumping in response to the light banging coming from the inside of the trunk. It would not stop as they stood there, momentarily transfixed. Miles was the first to take action, reaching through the open door to grab the keys from the ignition. Hope drummed into his veins and his hands began trembling. Brian began attempting to pull the seat down from the back seat but couldn’t, so he began pulling at Biters’ bodies. “I have the keys!” Miles exclaimed as he rounded the car, sliding to an abrupt halt. He grabbed his gun with his free hand as Brian joined him, both men ready for anything. Brian swallowed hard, his chest heaving with anxiousness. Miles looked at him gravely. “If she is, I will take care of it. That burden shouldn’t be yours.” He said simply, and Brian nodded, understanding what he meant, and grateful for Miles’s presence. “1, 2,…3!” he exclaimed turning the key and lifting the trunk.
Chapter Five
Kyle lay flat on his back in the dim light, head resting on a pillow as he stared at the ceiling above him. In his hands he held a small plush basketball. Up, down. Up, down; he threw it into the air above him. The impact of his hands slapping against the plastic exterior as he caught it began to grate on Cassie’s nerves. The twin bed he was stretched out of shifted with his weight as he reached out to the far right to catch the ball. He sighed, situating himself comfortably on the bed once more. Cassie looked over the rim of her book and narrowed her eyes, glaring at him.
“Is all of that completely necessary?” she asked, her words dripping with irritation. The noise stopped as he rose up on his elbow to look over at her incredulously. She glanced at the flickering candle beside her, then at the boarded window before back at her book, settling herself deeper in her bed. Kyle continued to stare at her, making it extremely hard for her to focus on the book in her hand. Before everything went downhill for mankind, books such as Divergent and Hunger Games were what stood for the epitome of strong young women placed into impossible and morally messed up situations. Cassie had read them, and had thought they were good; however she held a different type of hero at heart. The Phantom of the Opera was one of her favorite books, and it was the one she was attempting to read by candlelight while Kyle stared at her from across the room. Finally, she gave up and sighed, placing the book in her lap. She tossed him an angry glare. “What?”
Kyle looked as if he had just been chastised and she instantly regretted it. It couldn’t have been easy for him after losing so much, but she reckoned, so had she. However, she told herself, she was also the big sister and should be there for him whenever he needed. She watched silently as he lowered his gaze to the floor, watching the candlelight dance across the floor. “Where do you think they are right now?” He asked and Cassie felt a sharp pain enter her chest.
“Kyle, why do you do this?” she asked him, defeated. He asked this question every night, and every night, she gave him the same answer she always did: ‘Right where they need to be. Don’t worry, they will be back soon.’
“I don’t know…” he shrugged feeling embarrassed now, and again Cassie regretted her actions and choice of words. Halfheartedly, she sighed.
“Talk to me. What is going on with you?” she asked him, sure she would get an answer. He trusted her. He always had. There were times she had used that to her advantage, however, once their mother had found out that she had, boy did she get her just rewards. Before everything happened, her mom had been very strict and expected the very best from them; grades, manners, extracurricular activities. Cassie and Kyle had actually enjoyed it. They made plenty of friends and were never without. Their mom had worked hard in order to support them, but she did, and she did well. Cassie always admired that about her, even though her mother would never accept the praise. She would always just look at her, brush the hair from her face, smile and say:
‘You two are the very best things to have ever happened to me and no mother has ever been more proud. I wouldn’t change a thing.’
And she had meant it; every word.
“I’m just worried. This is the longest that they have been gone.” Kyle said softly, and Cassie smiled warmly at him, arms crossed over her chest. They were both feeling guilty for how things were left with their mother. The day that they were leaving, they had given her a very rough go about her departure. They didn’t understand why she had to, or, if she absolutely did have to, why they couldn’t go with her and help her. Kyle had yelled at her, things that he hadn’t meant and she simply stood there and took it all before he ran back into the house. Cassie had stood there, seemingly indifferent, while worry ate away at her.
“I love you Cassie.” She had said, and Cassie forced herself to smile, refusing to say a word. Her mom had noticed and the light left her eyes. Still though, she smiled, opening the door to her car, Zeus climbing in. She didn’t understand why she was so upset. They had gone out before, and for a few days at a time; however, this time had felt very different. She had watched Cassie, who had chewed on her bottom lip and crossed her arms, her fingernails digging into her arm. Slowly she had nodded and climbed in, waving at Cassie’s Nana and Papa before she, Uncle Brian, and Aunt Shelly left.
Cassie glanced once more at the boarded up windows before swinging her legs off of the side of the bed and reaching for her shoes. Kyle raised an inquisitive brow at her. “Come with me to check the fences?” she asked, and she felt his worries ebb away slowly. That was what they did. They took out pent up frustrations on Biters. Cassie understood that there would be some that would be more difficult, a friend from school, a family member, or something of the sort, so whenever possible, she shielded Kyle from that. She was grateful though that they had not encountered that problem as of yet.
“Sure.” He said, tamping down on his excitement as he reached for his shoes as well. Cassie stood and grabbed her jacket, pulling it on as she reach for her stick. It was a metal rake pole that had been melted and sharpened to a very fine tip at the end. Kyle reached for his as well, along with his jacket.
“Now, you do understand that they will be ok, huh?” she asked him as they began making their way downstairs. He nodded, but she could tell he hadn’t really believed her. “Mom is a strong woman; you know that. She has had to be. They will be back in just a few days.” She assured him. Quickly she stopped him at the bottom of the stairs, glancing at the flickering candlelight that came from the kitchen. She turned back to him, placing her free hand on his shoulder. “We are just feeling guilty about how everything happened before she left. When she gets back,” she began, emphasizing the word when so that maybe it would offer him more reassurance, “We can apologize for everything.” Kyle looked at her and she smiled, seeing his eyes light up, instantly feeling better.
“What is going on?” their Nana asked, peeking around the corner from the dimly lit kitchen. She stood tall, her blonde hair i
n a messy bun as she clutched her jacket close around her. Their Papa stepped into view behind her.
“We were just going to check the fences.” Cassie explained, shaking her stick in the air at them. They laughed before Papa went back into the kitchen, grabbing his shotgun and knife. He returned, his soft grey eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled his infectious smile.
“Well, I’ll be dipped,” he began, pulling his toboggan low on his head, “I was just going to check on those fences myself. I’ll join you.” Kyle laughed and Cassie followed, her Nana placing a gentle hand on her shoulder as they passed her and went out of the door. Yeah, things were bad, Cassie thought to herself as they neared the fence, hearing a few desperate moans and pleas for satiated hunger, but they could be way worse. Looking up into the clear, star-filled sky above her, she sent up a silent prayer that her mother was alright.
“What in the hell happened?” Shelly exclaimed as she opened the front door for Miles and Brian, who were carrying an unconscious, but breathing, body into the house. They were both out of breath but continued towards the big bathtub in the back room. Sweat beaded on their brows, on the backs of their necks as they surged forward with purpose. The man’s feet drug the floor, smearing blood along the linoleum tile in the kitchen. Shelly stood behind them, completely dumbstruck.
“Bathroom door Shelly!” Brian shouted back at her, and instantly she rushed past him and shoved the door open. Her small hands trembled with anticipation and uncertainty, her throat thick with emotion. Brian went in first leading the left side of the man’s body through the door, and Miles the right side. They maneuvered him around the sinks and into the tub before they began checking his body for any bite marks. They had checked him at the car, but had decided on the way back to the house to check again for good measure. “Shelly, go get a bucket of water out of the pond.” He told her. She looked at him incredulously, eyes wide with concern and fear. The sun had begun to set a half-hour before.
“There is enough light out. You’ve got this. Go get the water.” He said firmly, and she turned and ran from the room, the back door shutting softly behind her. Miles and Brian each held a flashlight, searching the man’s body for any marks. After a few moments, they were satisfied with their lack of findings in their search and Miles checked his temperature, as Brian removed his shoes. It was difficult to tell considering the amount of blood on the man, if he had any marks, or was wounded; he was drenched in it, but they had done the best that they could. Miles and Brian both turned to the bathroom door as the back door clicked shut once again. After a moment, Shelly reappeared with the bucket in hand, shocked at the scene before her. Brian handed Shelly his flashlight and got into the tub with the man, gripping the man’s shirt in his fists, one knee pressed against his ribs. Miles then traded his flashlight for the bucket of water and motioned for her to step back. She held the flashlight above their heads, focusing on the man as Miles splashed the bucket of cold water on him.
The man jerked up, gasping for air. His eyes were wild and crazed as he began struggling against Brian. Time was of the essence, and so they shut out everything in their minds; everything but this blood-soaked survivor before them. Miles grabbed the man’s chin, making him look at him, trying to reach some form of understanding.
“We just have a few simple questions for you, if you don’t mind.” Miles stated, lowering himself to rest on the balls of his feet. He was now eye level with him. The man seemed to have stopped fighting but was still tense. He was middle-aged, in his early thirties, he guessed, and was strong enough to have done anything to Amber. Miles tried desperately to keep his voice calm and even, even though the tense, angry energy rebounding throughout his body felt like it was going to shred him to pieces.
The man stared hard into Miles’s intimidating eyes and then jumped up, attempting to get away from the two men before him when Brian gripped his collar more firmly and shoved him hard against the tile. Miles pulled his knife from its holster and pressed the blade against his neck. It was a split second move, but it immediately stilled the man from moving or struggling any further. The man looked at Miles and swallowed.
“What’s the hurry?” Miles asked menacingly. Fire ran through his veins and it took all that he had not to kill the man on the spot. He didn’t know what happened between the man and Amber, but regardless, he wanted to kill him. The only reason he hadn’t is because he may hold the key to her whereabouts, or be able to verify if she is indeed dead. Miles caught the hint of a murderous gleam in Brian’s eyes as well.
“Maybe we should back off and give him some space.” Shelly offered. They both ignored her suggestion and focused on the guy. She stepped forward and placed a hand on Brian’s shoulder, attempting to get his attention, but he just shrugged her off and she jerked her hand back to her chest as if he had burned her.
“I asked you a question.” Miles growled and the man stared hard at him, seemingly unafraid. He seemed incredibly calm and that unnerved Miles to no end. The man narrowed his eyes at them.
“I have to find someone. Now, let me go, so I can find her.” When neither Brian nor Miles moved, he growled. “Please.” Miles watched as Brian eased off the iron grip he held on the man’s shirt, his brain processing what he had just said. Miles wasn’t convinced of his declaration, however; it only served to make him angrier. He pressed the blade harder and a trickle of blood ran down his neck. He saw fear flash in his eyes and knew he had him. Miles gave the man a threatening grin.
“Work with us and we will see what we can do. Now, the car you were in belonged to a woman with blonde hair, blue eyes, and she had a dog named…” Miles trailed off, forgetting the dog’s name that Brian had told him about in the truck on the way back.
“Zeus.” Brian supplied for him, his focus intently on the man whose eyes began widen in shock.
“Zeus.” Miles repeated. He leaned closer to the man. “Know anything about her?” he asked, and the church came to mind again, only briefly, before it vanished.
The man tensed. “Who are you to her?” he asked them. Brian and Miles exchanged looks.
“You are in no position to ask questions.” Brian threatened angrily, though the anger didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, curiosity and desperate pleas for help rested there.
“Until you tell me who in the hell you are, I am not telling you anything.” The man spat out, taking Brian by surprise.
Miles cursed beneath his breath at the stubbornness of this man, and would later appreciate the refusal to discuss the very woman that they were searching for. “An insanely pissed off brother and a very determined fiancé.” He said, his voice rough and demanding. He lowered his eyes to meet the man’s, a murderous gleam intent in his deep brown depths. “And I must tell you, that even before this outbreak, I killed a man over her. I won’t hesitate to do it again.” He growled. Brian couldn’t hide his surprise at which Miles’s words came out venomously, but was grateful for it. The man visibly relaxed and both Brian and Miles furrowed their eyebrows in confusion. He looked up at them, completely lost.
“That is who I am looking for too.”
“So, let me get this straight...” Brian began as he paced in the living room in front of a roughed up George and hysterical Shelly. Miles leaned against the door jamb, watching silently as the story was repeated. George sighed, watching the candle wick burn before him. “You ran into each other, she helped you get your wife who went crazy after killing your son, and on the way here, of all places, your wife shot out a tire and made you guys wreck. After that, you and your wife got into a fight, Amber tried to help you, Biters came, and you told her to run?” Brian asked, unsure of whether or not to believe the story.
“Yes.” George replied hoarsely. Miles could see the guilt beginning to engulf him. Brian stopped pacing.
“Run where? And in the pitch dark?” Brian asked loudly, unintentionally laying it on thick for George. George swallowed, glancing at Shelly, who leaned against the arm of the couch, a trembling hand cove
ring her mouth. Tears streaked across her face. Miles folded his arms across his chest, shifting his feet anxiously. His mind went into overdrive, attempting to seek out any possible routes or ideas she would have taken. He had already lost his son, he couldn’t lose her too. He refused to.
“I don’t know. I don’t know! I told her to run, and then Biters grabbed Regina, they grabbed me, a…and I got away and climbed through the backseat into the trunk. I couldn’t get out t…then. Next thing I know, I hear voices, bang on the trunk and pass out. I didn’t know what to do; I just wanted her to have a chance. Everything just happened so f…fast.” Brian looked at Miles, who thoroughly believed the guy, which was a shame really. Miles was angry, and wanted someone to pay for the pain that he felt. If he could, he would take it out on the man that could have protected her, could have saved her. Instead, the man drug her into his fatal drama while he danced with insanity and now Amber was gone, missing. Shrugging it off, Miles nodded at Brian, who then turned on George and told him to get up. He had to let it go. It would do no good for Miles to get worked up and hurt the man.
“Go in that back room and find some clean clothes.” He ordered resolutely, scrubbing a hand across his face. George stood and began back towards the room, and then paused mid step, turning back to Brian. Brian turned to him, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“When I change, I am going back out there to find her. I left her out there, and you aren’t going to stop me. Thank you for everything, but I owe her that much.” With that, he turned back to the bedroom and Brian turned to Miles. Miles felt a tinge of…jealousy(?) snake its way up his back, adding to the tension he already carried. He closed his eyes, shaking his head. He had no right, but he really did not care for the amount of admiration and determination that this ‘George’ held for Amber. Hell, Miles had done a lot more for her than George had ever considered doing; however, no one except his son knew about it. Miles knew how wonderful she was and couldn’t really blame the guy. But now, however, they were back at square one with no idea where to find her and it was eating him up inside.