Forsaken World (Book 1): Innocence Lost

by Watson, Thomas A.

  Knowing his dad had information for the family stored on flash drives in their safe, Lance grabbed the bag and key ring. Closing the door, he locked it and put the bag and keys in his back pocket. Leaving the office, he stopped in the kitchen and looked down the hall to the front and didn’t see anything out the windows. From where he was, that only meant nothing was on the porch.

  Afraid something outside could hear his heart beating and his breathing, Lance tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. With his throat sticking to itself, he coughed and moved over to the sink, turned on the water, and shoved his mouth under the faucet.

  When his stomach was full, Lance turned off the water and stood up, looking out the windows over the sink. His mouth fell open, spilling water over his chest, when he saw three people walking around the backyard. They were well past the swimming pool and almost in the yard of the house behind them, but they were still there.

  “Shit,” he mumbled and turned for the den. Jennifer jumped as he walked in. “Just me.”

  “Where’s Ian?”

  “He’s getting something and will be here in a second,” Lance said, taking off his backpack. “We need to leave here soon.” He saw his and Ian’s cellphones on the table and grabbed them and threw them in his pack.

  “Why?” Jennifer asked with her eyes getting big. Lance quickly explained, and when he finished, Jennifer nodded as Ian came in.

  In his right hand was his old recurve bow, and on his waist was a quiver of arrows. “You are a genius,” Lance grinned.

  “Hey, our hunting bows are at the cabin, but we practiced with these. If I can put an arrow through plywood, I think it should work,” Ian grinned. A loud thump against a window from the front of the house made everyone jump. “We were quiet,” Ian hissed in a panic.

  “Shh,” Lance said, moving the shotgun to his back and picking up the staff. With Lance leading, they moved out of the den and saw a figure at the front door lazily slapping the window. “That’s Mr. Oliver,” Lance whispered, moving over to the wall.

  “I really hate that motherfucker,” Ian hissed, moving beside Lance. “He’s missing an arm,” Ian said, pulling out an arrow.

  They heard other footsteps coming up the stairs on the porch. Lance peeked around the corner then yanked his head back, saying, “Oh shit, they’re here.”

  “How many?” Ian asked, looking down at his quiver.

  “They’re still adding, and we can’t subtract that fast,” Lance said, moving to the den as other thumps sounded behind him. Ian glanced and saw more pilling on the porch, moving to the windows.

  “Motherfuckers are multiplying,” Ian moaned and turned for the den. “I’m finding a machine gun and going to start dividing on their asses.”

  Walking in the den, Ian saw Jennifer standing with Carrie on one side and Allie on the other, hugging her tight. Looking over at Lance, Ian saw him put his school backpack loaded with ammo on his chest then pick up Ian’s scout pack and put it on his back. “Allie, get your pack on,” Lance said, grabbing the staff.

  Allie darted over, grabbed her pack, and put it on as Ian grabbed his. “You okay carrying all that?” Ian asked, putting his on.

  “We are only running to my house, so I’m good. I’ll lead, and Jennifer will stay in the middle with the girls. You’ll bring up the rear,” Lance said, testing what movement he had with the staff. The thumps from the front of the house were increasing in intensity and tempo.

  “We need to jet like right fucking now,” Ian said, hearing the glass cracking.

  Lance darted out of the den with Jennifer behind him holding each girl’s hand. Ian nocked an arrow and followed. Stopping at the back door, Lance glanced quickly and only saw the three in the very back of the yard, and they were moving away from them. Hitting the exit button on the alarm, Lance eased the door open and went outside.

  The rotten egg smell was now much worse as he moved to the corner of the house. Peeking around the corner, he saw figures moving to the front of the house. From there, Lance heard growls and low groans, reminding him of a pack of feeding lions. Looking at Mr. Oliver’s backyard, Lance wanted to scream at the white picket fence.

  He turned around, putting his face nose to nose with Jennifer. “I’m going to run and jump the fence. When I’m over, you run carrying Carrie and hand her to me as you jump over. Tell Ian to carry Allie and do the same. We need to move fast and hope they don’t see us,” he barely breathed out. Visibly trembling, Jennifer nodded and turned around to Ian.

  Taking a deep breath as he turned around, Lance darted from the side of the house. All the houses in the neighborhood were on five acres, and the houses sat near the front of the land. The picket fence Mr. Oliver had put in was four feet tall and ran around his entire property.

  Lance pushed himself hard, and the pack on his chest was beating the air out as Lance tried to suck it back in. With the staff in his right hand and the shotgun over his left shoulder, Lance reached out with his left hand as he jumped, catching the top of the fence. Swinging his body over, he hit the ground feet first and ducked down, looking toward the front of the house.

  People of different sizes were still moving to the front of the house, and none seemed to have noticed him. Looking back at the corner of Ian’s house, he saw Jennifer running at him full speed, carrying Carrie. When she got close, Ian stood up, and Jennifer threw Carrie at him.

  Lance caught her and pulled her over the fence as he ducked down and saw Jennifer dive over the fence and landed in a roll then sprung to her feet. She duck-walked over to Carrie and grabbed her hand as Lance let her go.

  Looking up, Lance saw Ian almost to the fence. He jumped up and was hit in the chest with a flying Allie. He knew Allie only weighed fifty pounds, but the pack she had on was a third of that, and Lance folded with the blow. Dropping his staff, Lance wrapped his arms around Allie, pulling her into the pack he had on his chest.

  Hitting the ground hard, the air exploded out of his lungs as Allie’s weight drove him into the ground. Ian dove over the fence and landed beside Lance. He rolled and pulled Allie off Lance and moved his face over until his nose touched Lance’s cheek. “They came around the other side of the house. One busted a window at Jennifer’s house and fell out the back,” he breathed.

  Panic gave Lance the ability to pull in air as he felt his balls pull inside his body at the growls on the other side of the fence. Rolling over and looking between the boards, Lance saw several figures beating on the back of Ian’s house, but three were coming straight at them.

  EEERrrr, EEERrrr, blasted in the night as lights came on at each corner of Ian’s house and the alarm activated. The three people trotting toward them stopped and spun around, heading back to the house.

  “Low crawl,” Lance said, rolling over and crawling across Mr. Oliver’s backyard. When he was halfway, he eased up and crouch-walked to the fence. He moved along it until he was across from the gate of the privacy fence that surrounded the yard.

  Lance’s dad had put that gate on this side just to piss off Mr. Oliver. That way, Lance and Ian could still cut across Mr. Oliver’s backyard and not have to take the street.

  “Let’s go,” Lance said, getting up and using his staff to jump over as the alarm blared behind them. Landing, Lance looked toward the front of the house and noticed figures trotting down the road, heading for Ian’s house.

  Running over to the gate, Lance opened it and ran in, looking around the yard. When he didn’t see anything, he turned to see Ian closing the gate and the girls hugging Jennifer. Ian pushed the latch down so the gate couldn’t be opened from the outside.

  Spinning on his right foot, Lance headed for the back door, rubbing his sore ribs with his left hand and holding the staff in his right. Reaching the back door, Lance took off the key he wore around his neck. There was one hidden at the side of the house, but it could stay there.

  Lance turned the lock and opened the door then ran inside, hearing the alarm beeping. He knew he had five minutes before
the blaring started, but he didn’t even want the beeping. Flipping the pad open, he punched in the numbers, and the beeping stopped.

  Feeling totally drained, Lance dropped the staff. It landed with a dull thump on the carpet as he slid his packs off. They were in the game room, and Ian was putting his pack on the pool table and taking Allie’s off. “Dude, I’m sorry I threw Allie at you, but I freaked when those people popped out behind me growling,” Ian said, bending over and picking up Lance’s packs and put them on the pool table.

  Lance grinned. “I would’ve shit twice and died.”

  “Well, I did shit a pink Twinkie,” Ian laughed. “What now?”

  “Pull the curtains over the windows downstairs, and let’s try calling someone,” Lance said, rubbing his ribs.

  Ring sounded from Lance’s backpack. He and Ian dove for the pack and pulled out the phones. Lance looked at his phone. “It’s Ricky Sims,” he said, looking at the picture. “Hello.”

  “Oh, thank God I got someone.”

  “Ricky?”

  “Yes, Lance, it’s Ricky. Can you come and get me? I’m at home in my backyard up in a tree,” Ricky said, and in the background, Lance heard growling and moans.

  “Ricky, you live on the other side of town. I’m not riding my bike over there with the shit that’s outside right now,” Lance said then lowered his phone, pushing speaker.

  Everyone heard the growls over the phone as Lance laid it on the pool table. “God damn it, Lance, I’m stuck in a tree, and my backyard is full of bitches trying to rip me apart. Come help me!”

  “I don’t have a car, and we just had to run when we had a group bust in Ian’s house!”

  Sounds of Ricky’s phone fumbling came over the speaker. The screen lit up, and they saw a mass of faces looking up at them from the screen. Ricky moved the phone around, showing his backyard, and it was indeed packed. Lance sucked in a breath, looking at the mass of bodies reaching toward the phone. “You see this shit? They broke in the house and killed everyone. I barely got out, and this was the only place I could go,” Ricky said, spinning the phone around to his face. “Come and get me!”

  “Ricky, we don’t have a tank,” Ian said, leaning over the phone.

  “God damn it, do something!”

  “Ricky, you need to be quiet; they move to sound. Stay quiet, and don’t move. They should move away, or some of them should, and you can make a run for it,” Lance said as Ricky turned off the video.

  “That’s your advice? Be quiet and stay still? Come and get me, motherfucker!”

  “What, and die with you? Fuck that! Shut up, and be still. You hear them getting worked up because you’re talking, and that makes more come,” Lance snapped.

  “They are shaking the tree! Please come and get me!” Ricky cried.

  Lance reached down and thumbed his phone off. “You hung up on him!” Jennifer snapped.

  “Yeah I did. I have to save what power I have in case my mom and dad call,” he snapped back as his phone rang. Lance touched the ignore tab and flipped his phone to vibrate. “I can’t help him without dying.”

  “You could talk to him,” Jennifer said.

  “Like I said, they are attracted to noise. If he talks, he will die because they won’t leave.”

  “It just seems wrong,” Jennifer said, lowering her head.

  “It is,” Ian said, moving over to her, and Lance took a breath to unload. Be damned if Ian was going to break the first law of the man code: Bros before hos. “Yes, it’s wrong, but we don’t have a choice. If we help Ricky, we will die before we even got near his house. If we use up the batteries on our phones, we can’t talk to our parents or try for help. Even just talking to him puts us at risk, and it does put Ricky at risk. We lose our ability to try for help,” Ian said as his phone rang. Lifting up his phone with Ricky’s picture on the screen, Ian held it out to Jennifer. “Your call. You want to condemn all of us, including your little sister?”

  Slowly, Jennifer reached out, and her hand hovered over the phone. Then, she dropped her index finger down, tapping the ignore tab. Dropping her hand, Jennifer turned around, crying. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Ian shrugged, turning off his ringer and blocking Ricky’s calls. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he said, shoving the phone in his pocket. “It’s just shit choices.”

  Seeing everyone with tears running down their faces, Lance snapped his fingers. “Hey, if we let this bring us down now, we will die!” he popped off. “We need the curtains closed now. It will be dawn in a few hours, and they will be able to see inside.”

  Everyone wiped their faces and looked over at him. “Good. Allie and Carrie, you two stay in here,” he said, pointing over at the couch in front of the flat-screen TV. “Jennifer, you start at the back of the house. I’ll take the right front and Ian the left front. Most of the windows have blinds. If you lower them, do it slow so the movement doesn’t attract attention,” Lance said, and everyone nodded.

  Moving over to the alarm, Lance turned it on but turned the outside siren and lights off. If something broke in, the alarm would just call out in an electronic voice inside the house. Because they were closing the blinds and curtains slowly, it took them over an hour, and the three met up at the front door.

  “It looks like a rock concert down at my house,” Ian said with a pale face.

  Pulling out his cellphone, Lance tried calling his dad and mom. When he heard ringing, he wanted to jump up and down, but the line just kept ringing, and then a voice came over. “Your party is out of the calling area, and the mailbox is full. Please try your call later.”

  “Shit,” Lance said, hanging up. Not saying anything more, he left Ian and Jennifer. They looked at each other then took off after him. Lance went to his dad’s office and opened the big gun safe then moved over to open the smaller one.

  Seeing Lance pull out his dad’s XDM in a clip-on holster, Ian smiled. “Oh man, now we are talking.”

  He stepped over and pulled out another XDM his mom used and the clip-on holster. Lance passed him a clip-on magazine holster. “Glad my mom didn’t tell my dad not to give me the combination to the pistol safe,” he said as Ian took it.

  “Mom gets weird about pistols,” Ian said, putting the magazine holster on his left side.

  “Can I have a gun?” Jennifer asked behind them.

  “Have you shot a gun before?” Lance asked, moving to the other safe, and pulled out his dad’s AR. He put the sling over his head and let it hang in front of his body.

  “Yes, I’ve shot a gun before,” Jennifer sighed.

  “More than once?” Lance asked, turning around and looking at her. “If you don’t know how to shoot, you could hurt yourself or us.”

  “No, I only went shooting with my dad once,” she said, looking down. Lance moved back to the pistol safe and pulled out three Ruger 22/45 pistols. He handed his to Ian and shoved the one his dad used in the small of his back. He held out the one his mom used to Jennifer.

  “Ian, show her how to use it. Go over everything ten times, and make her repeat it ten times,” Lance said as Jennifer slowly took the pistol. Moving over to a cabinet, Lance opened it and held out clip-on holsters for the pistols. When they took them, he pulled out one more then grabbed a handful of magazines for the Rugers. “I’m going to fix some food. When you two are done, come and get some food.”

  They just looked at each other as Lance left. “Is he mad?” Jennifer asked.

  “No,” Ian said, pulling her over to the desk. “That’s how he gets when he’s thinking.”

  Lance went in the game room to find both girls asleep on the couch. He grabbed two blankets and covered them up then headed to the kitchen, turned the stove on, and gave a sigh of relief upon seeing the blue flame. Moving to the fridge, he opened the door and quickly pulled out eggs, bacon, and biscuits.

  Soon, his stomach started growling as the smell of food filled the kitchen. He opened the freezer and pulled out some orange juice concentrate. When Ia
n and Jennifer walked in, Lance was putting the pans in the sink. They saw the plates on the counter piled high with food.

  “Never would’ve guessed either of you could cook,” Jennifer said, putting her pistol on the counter.

  “Merit badge,” they said in unison, grabbing plates.

  “How did she do?” Lance asked, sitting down.

  “She knows which end is the dangerous end,” Ian said, sitting down. “She’ll be okay.”

  “Don’t shoot me because I shoot back,” Lance said, pouring a glass of orange juice.

  “Can’t shoot the two that saved us,” Jennifer grinned, sitting down.

  The three sat and ate, and suddenly, Lance set down his fork and looked at them. It was several seconds before they realized he was staring at them. “What?” Ian said and grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth.

  “I want to make a pact between the three of us,” Lance said with a serious face.

  “A pact for what?” Jennifer asked.

  “We don’t cry or think of the things we lost until we’re safe,” Lance said, looking from one to the other.

  Tears sprang to Jennifer’s eyes. “Why? It hurts. I don’t know where my mom and dad are. I’ve seen my friends attack people.”

  “I know, and I’m just as guilty. I’ve been thinking it over, when we’ve felt bad, we always make bad mistakes. If we get down, we will die,” he said, looking at them as he grabbed his glass.

  Nodding, Ian mumbled, “Yeah, you’re right. How do we do it though?”

  “When we feel bad, start doing something: counting straws, cleaning, hell anything, but not crying,” Lance said, taking a drink.

  “I’ll try,” Jennifer said.

  “So will I,” Ian said, picking his fork back up.

  “That’s all we can do,” Lance said and picked his fork up. “If one of us sees the other breaking down, find something to do.”