Rise Once More

by D. Henbane

  Not overly big, definitely not small, just right, she cooed. That was it. Perfect. She mumbled. He had manipulated her, pushed when needed, sent her into a realm she had not known before. Just by accomplishing that, he at least deserved some food, and she was hungry herself. It was a win across the board.

  Amy headed down to the shore to retrieve her catch, and in doing so she noticed the wayward catfish. The same fish they had caught, it was still fighting, still twisting in the grass. She gathered both fish, and headed back to camp.

  Haus remained asleep, ignorant of her actions, asleep, and satisfied. He has done enough. Amy thought as she cleaned the fish. They very least I could do is offer a warm meal. He rocked me to the core, and I want an encore, or two.

  Amy prepared the fish, dipping them in batter, and then tossed them into the skillet. The familiar smell of a fish frying entered her nose, bringing back a tidal wave of happy memories, and she had just added another memory to the smell. She flashed a devilish grin, as she poked at the browning fish bites, a hum buzzing on her lips.

  She hadn't heard Haus wake up, or him stalking around behind her, she was unaware of his presence until he leaned forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You must have read my mind.” He said softly as he rubbed her shoulder.

  “Just in time!” She chirped. Swishing the spatula under the now golden bite sized pieces of fish and flinging them onto a paper plate. “Try one.” She said offering the plate over to him.

  “I will wait for you to eat first.” Haus said. Amy shot him an incredulous look, and bull dogged him with her eyes for a few moments before speaking.

  “Where I am from... You eat what you are served and when you are served. Don't piss off the chef my mother always said.” Another memory flashed across her mind, a similar situation that had happened between her parents. Dad, always trying to be a gentlemen insisted that everyone ate before him, and he would happily clean up the left-overs.

  Thinking back to that nightly ritual, everyone sat down and ate, while dad read the paper calmly, occasionally asking how the day had gone or if my mother had heard about a recent news story. Now that she was thinking about it, he had seldom eaten directly in front of them, rather he would eat his fill while the kids got ready for bed and Mom tended to the bedtime stories.

  It was one of those small things a person doesn't think twice about as a child, but as an adult make perfect sense. It wasn't because he didn't need to eat, he chose not to eat, and whatever was left was his reward. He was the provider for the family; it was his job to keep food on the table, and moms to make sure it was warm. If there wasn't enough to go around, he made sure his priorities were met, wife and children were fed, and he could make do with whatever was left; simply because if there wasn't enough, it was his fault, and he alone accepted to shoulder that burden, even if it meant a rumbling stomach to remind him to work harder.

  It was that attribute that her father was known for, always thinking of others, putting himself at the bottom end of the receiving line. Everyone loved her father, the countless things he did may have gone unpaid at the time, but they always came back around. More often than not, paid back with interest, and had always benefited their family. He always made sure of it, because his family was more important than his own life.

  “I have never eaten catfish before. Is it supposed to taste like this?” Haus asked. Amy's eyes grew wide, a feeling of insult tensed her body, and she was just about to speak. She was just about to assault him, throw hot oil onto him, and chastise him about not pissing of the chef. He honestly has the balls to bitch about the meal I just made for him? Amy's teeth clenched, as she raised the spatula, and tried to suppress this newly formed rage until Haus interrupted her.

  “Fucking amazing!” Haus said, in between chewing and shoving more breaded bites into his mouth. He hovered over the grease soaked paper plate, snatching up the final bits of crumbs with his fingers and shoving them into his mouth. Haus looked down at the now empty plate, like an orphan child named Oliver, his gaze focused on Amy hoping to find that she held some back in reserve.

  “You really like it?” Amy asked. Her rage instantly suppressed by his words and actions.

  “I can see why you wanted it so badly. My mind is blown right now. I have never tasted anything better in my entire life and I am not a fish fan at all.” Haus said.

  “Plenty more where that came from, just give me a little bit longer to fry it up.” Amy said.

  “That's fine. I need to figure out a route to Eiccas place. We are really close and I want to double check some avoidance areas.” Haus said as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and wandered off towards the Corolla.

  Haus looked at the map, barely legible thanks to a weak interior light of the car, it was almost a straight shot due south to Eiccas address. He was unfamiliar with the area, and had to use his best guess as to which areas were densely populated. The good news is they were close; two hours drive if they went straight at it, but four hours if they took back roads.

  They were close to Nashville, which was an obvious, no-go zone, and Haus looked harder at the map. A few interstates traced out lines before him, once again an area he wanted to avoid, but a large green area indicating protected land caught his eye. There were no roads on the map going through the large green area, but he knew there had to be some.

  The map was made to show the fastest venue to drive through, but he wasn't interested in that, common meant people and at this time people meant death. There had to be a road to get through the area, one that wasn't indicated on the map, and the very road he wanted to travel. Haus analyzed the map once again, focusing on the green area, looking for a clue that would reveal the road to him.

  Amy opened the door, sitting down in the passenger seat, and offering Haus another heaping plate of catfish bites. They sat together, feasting, and going over the next course of action. Haus showed her the destination and his idea of crossing through the green area via some unmarked road. To avoid any large areas filled with people, and in hopes avoiding any complications.

  Amy let out a giggle and motioned for Haus to pay attention. “You are thinking about this the wrong way. You are using a map, created by people, to get them to stop at certain places. You don't honestly think that the roads featured are the best ones? Not by a long shot. It all comes down to money and tourism.” Amy said.

  “Follow the land. If it needs to be traveled it will be. How else do they shuttle in supplies? There isn't very many areas that don't have a homestead, or even a person living off it. Alaska is pretty damn desolate, but they still have supply lines. Easy to follow supply lines at that.” Amy said.

  “I don't see any roads.” Haus said.

  “That is because your map is worthless!” Amy said.

  “It's the only map we have.” Haus said.

  “AND I am telling you it isn't worth the paper it's printed on.” Amy said.

  “Alright. You want to lead this expedition, go right ahead. Once we get lost, expect me to say I told you so.” Haus said.

  “We won't.” Amy said motioning down to the map, her finger placed at the base of a mountain town, near the green area, and tracing a line around the protected zone.

  “That's our road. Follow it and we can cut the trip down to under two hours.” Amy said confidently, “as long as you don't follow the speed limit on a gravel road.”

  “Gravel road?” Haus said with a confused look across his face.

  “Just let me drive. I got it from here and hold on to your ass during the ride.” Amy said.

  They packed up the meager supplies, placing them in the trunk, and with Amy at the wheel burst out into the uncharted back roads. She accelerated much faster than Haus was comfortable with, the car fish tailed, spewing gravel out as she darted between roads. Changing directions frequently, and hopping onto different gravel roads, as if they were an interstate highway.

  They flew past a sign indicating entry to the state of Georgia, it was just a minor flash
, and one of many, as Amy drove the old car at over 100 miles per hour down a gravel road. She had told him it was under control, but Haus had his doubts as the car fishtailed. Damn near spinning out of control, as she entered into what she called a minimum maintenance road.

  That wasn't any road he had encountered before, but was left helpless to her navigation. The car bucked, swayed, and followed a path only a suicidal monkey could follow. Yet she held fast, cranking the wheel at an intersection, and punching the gas at any opportunity.

  Haus wondered if it was possible to get sea sick on land, because he sure felt like spewing chunks out the window. Amy handled it all in stride, her hands gripping the wheel tightly and cackling maniacally after each turn. A few times the car went airborne and came down hard with the crunch of metal on rocks as the bottom frame scraped the road.

  Minutes seemed to last an eternity, well at least for Haus, Amy was having the time of her life. The sun had just cracked over the horizon, its life giving rays spilling out, and illuminating the world. There were a few spots that could cling with shadows, but in a matter of minutes they too would be embraced by the suns radiance.

  WOODBURRY CITY LIMIT. The rectangular green sign, unceremoniously welcomed them to their destination. “Stop the car Amy.” Haus commanded, and she slammed the brakes, skidding the car to an abrupt halt. The tone of Haus's voice had alarmed her, he hadn't spoke in nearly two hours, and she wondered if he saw something she didn't.

  “Did you see that?” Haus said.

  “See what?” Amy asked.

  “Exactly. Where are the people?” Haus said, his eyes darting in different directions. Scanning the foreign town for any potential threats. Amy looked around as well, but she still could not spot any movement. That is until something caught her eye, she read the sign, then glanced down at her watch and began laughing.

  “What the hell is so funny?” Haus asked, a little annoyed at her taking the situation lightly.

  “Population 921: its 5:14 AM on a Saturday.”Amy said, her voice still lingering with giggles, as she looked at Haus, placed the car in drive and took the first right hand turn.

  “Amy! I told you to stop the car. What are you doing?” Haus said.

  “I am taking the scenic route. Look around Haus, this is small town USA, and in small towns aint nobody going to be moving around at 5 AM on a Saturday. Do you see something else?” Amy said calmly.

  “I don't see any people! Which means they must be infected, and getting ready to rip our throats out at any moment.” Haus replied.

  Amy drove around, sitting in silence, ignoring Haus's demands for her to stop the car. She knew this feeling too well, the feeling of small town living, and knowing that the residents were just fine. A little annoyed by the lack of electricity, concerned by the news reports, but even when things get bad small town folks stick together.

  They weather the storms of life, watching each other's backs, offering whatever they can to help a neighbor, and even when things get even worse they find a way to make it through. Amy recalled her grandfather speak about the great depression, the great dust bowl days, as if they were another hurdle in life, they had suffered, but rather than dwell on it they found a way to survive. That is the way small town folks lived, everyday was a struggle, and they were not strangers to dealing to adversity.

  “You know what else you don't see Haus?” Amy said, her voice changing, as if she was a tour guide preaching to a group of tourists. “You don't see any chaos. Where is the broken glass, looted businesses, or abandoned cars?” Amy said.

  Haus looked around, expecting to see something out of place, but couldn't find anything. The streets were tidy, lawns kept, and no real sign that something was wrong; as if this whole shit-storm had not affected them somehow. Cars were in drive ways, keys in the ignition no doubt, because this was a small town and in small towns people trust each other. The only thing he could see that wasn't normal was the lack of electricity, but there was no real way to know if it was out. It was daylight now and street lamps would have already flipped off by now.

  Was it possible that the infection hadn't spread this far? Could Woodburry be a safe haven? The words rambled around Haus's mind, and as far as he could tell there was nothing saying otherwise. The thought of hope gave him an optimistic feeling, a possibility of a normal life, a real future might be here, in this tiny town that time has seemed to forgotten.

  “What was the name of the street we are looking for?” Amy asked.

  “703 West C street.” Haus said.

  “We need to turn around then. I saw C street back there a few blocks.” Amy said as she did a U turn in the road. She drove back to the edge of town, until she saw the road marker indicating C street, and turned on it. It was exactly opposite from her first defiant right turn into the so called infected town. This time they were heading west, past a cattle farm, Amy could see a lake to the north, and she knew it would be a great spot to snag a large catfish or two.

  The road snaked around to the north, she watched each house number, all of them very low, and she finally came across 416 several miles out of town. “What was her name again? Eicca what?” Amy asked.

  “Eicca Laine.” Haus replied.

  “She must live way out of town. We are already a few miles out, and we are still in the 400's.” Amy said, as she drove forward, soon finding the paved road stopped, and seeing nothing but a twisting gravel road ahead. The terrain had turned from hills, to low lying wetlands, trimmed pines gave way to wild Cyrpress trees and the swamp began to resurface.

  Amy drove for several miles, this time at a reasonable pace of 40 miles per hour, a much welcomed change in pace for Haus, as both of them watched the uptick of house numbers. Finally they arrived to the so called 700 block, and her house should be one of the first. Haus motioned for Amy to stop, he had seen this before, even for just a moment, as Rednek was trying to show off his home.

  The trees seemed familiar, their locations a little different from the ground level, yet unmistakeable from the air. The peculiar pattern of alignment, looking almost like a giraffes neck, the head being Redneks home, and the neck lining his drive way. Haus looked at the aged trees, glanced down at the worn mail box almost 50 meters away, and spotted the name. LAINE. Crudely brushed on the side, with white paint, and unlike the box itself showed signs of being rather recent.

  “This is it.” Haus said.

  “We're here?” This is the place?” Amy asked, the car settling to a stop, and placing it in park. Amy looked over, eying the property, it had seen many years, passed through just as many hands, and despite its age showed signs of being well taken care of.

  Two huge weeping willows marked the entrance of the property, clearly it was once a plantation, back in the days of old. The willows towered above the ground, its branches outspread and almost touching the ground. Standing tall and proud like two massive guards protecting the ancient ground.

  A large white washed home sat in the center, with several out buildings dotting the landscape, one in particular was covered in rusted corrugated roofing. A small chicken coop, several sheds, a fenced in pen designed to hold some kind of livestock, and a massive garden. The garden rows wrapped around the edge of the house, around the back, and resting next to the out buildings. The sheer size of it utilized almost every square foot of space available.

  Haus thought back to the seemingly endless supply of fresh vegetables Rednek kept in his rancid smelling apartment. The source of all that bounty lay before them, cared for by none other than Eicca. It almost seemed like too large of a task of a single woman, and then Haus remembered the picture of Jake.

  Oh yes Jake. Redneks mentally retarded brother. Where he lacked in smarts he must have made up for in physical labor. Retarded? Rednek would have smashed my skull in for saying that. He preferred the term different. Haus thought to himself. Haus hadn't gotten to know Rednek very well, but what he did know was that Rednek loved two things in life. Eicca and Jake.

  There
might have been a third thing if you counted food. That disgusting, drenched in god knows what spices, grease soaked garbage Rednek called food. The same crap he tried to unload on everyone that was silly enough to hang out near him at lunch time. You couldn't pass by the guy without being offered some kind of “delicacy” from back home.

  Maybe it wasn't the food. Hell even Rednek's twisted taste buds had to know it was terrible. Maybe it was because of WHO made it, not what it was made of, that made it so damn special. I get it now. That thick headed hick, wasn't trying to expand our minds with different tastes, he was showing off. He was subtly announcing to all of us, that someone cared enough to make him something, and that is what he was sharing. His own way of bragging about this wife of his, one that he was so proud of, no matter how many times she burnt the proverbial gumbo.

  Haus tried to think, an image of Eicca, yet he had never seen her. Rednek had bragged about her for sure, but he had never actually seen what she looked like. Sure he had seen the picture of Jake, but never Eicca. One thing was for certain, of the two things Rednek loved in this world, no one fucked with either of them. Rednek wouldn't stand for it, even if it took his final breath, or cost him everything, they would remain safe.

  Haus's man logic took over and it all made perfect sense. Rednek had intentionally not showed a photo of Eicca to him. It was a defensive tactic. The crap food, the whole charade was a front, Rednek was hiding something, and Haus knew why. You landed yourself a real bell ringer didn't you Rednek? You married up and you were intimidated that I might move in on your turf. Well played sir. Well played.

  Amy shifted the car out of park, and pressed on the gas, only to be stopped by Haus. “No.” Haus said.

  “What do you mean no?” Amy asked her foot now firmly pressed on the brake.

  “Turn the car off. We don't want to startle them. We go in on foot, try not to make a scene, and talk to them. If we just barge in there, claiming to be friends, we might be met with hostility.” Haus said.

  “These are your friends.” Amy said.