by Siara Brandt
“I thought it was all a dream,” he whispered. “Was it real?”
“Yes,” she confirmed in a very small voice, wishing with all her heart that it wasn’t.
“Sometimes I felt like I was slipping into a dark place,” he said weakly. “My dreams- I felt like there was some kind of living darkness woven through them. They didn’t seem so distant from me like dreams normally do.”
He didn’t tell her how the fear would have him breathless, that it would be consuming, almost throbbing with his heartbeats.
“I felt like I was holding onto- something. But when I was about to let myself go and fly free, you kept calling to me and I kept holding on, unable to break the hold, unable to break free . . . ”
That frightened her. She hushed him, told him he needed to rest.
“Something held me back,” he went on in the same faint voice. “Maybe the hand of an angel.”
He looked at the window. “Night is almost over- ” he breathed.
His eyes closed again and for a long time he was silent. She quickly felt for a pulse, felt it stirring faintly beneath her fingers.
“I won’t let you go,” she said. “I can’t.
He looked straight at her. “I’m not going to let go, either.”
She held back a sob. “If you say it, you have to mean it. Those are the rules.”
She thought he nodded, but couldn’t be sure.
And then he was away from her again, lost in the delirium. As she looked down at him, she drew several deep breaths as a terrible surge of emotion welled up inside her. She tried to quell the sobs, but despite her best efforts, a lump rose to her throat and helpless tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. She could not reconcile herself to the thought that her son might end his life here in this place far from home. Not yet, she thought stubbornly. I won’t let it happen. Not yet.
And the tears began to slip freely down her cheeks now.
Chapter 10
Rafe froze for several tense moments. Every muscle in his body was taut. Every sense was on full alert. There were no signs of any people, dead or undead, anywhere to be seen. But something had his instincts kicking into overdrive.
Cars blocked the roads here as they did everywhere else, but they were empty as far as he could tell. Of course something could be hidden in one of them, but nothing was moving. Nothing was making a sound. He knew it was that very silence that was bothering him. Even the birds were quiet and he knew from experience that was never a good sign.
Maybe they should have kept going but the hunger had been getting critical. Both he and Ren needed nourishment if they were going to be able to keep moving. So he knew he had to try.
He pulled his scarf up over his nose and mouth, not sure if it did any good or not, took a deep breath and went up the steps. He had no way of knowing what was inside the restaurant. Holed up survivors? The undead? Maybe nothing if he was lucky. Maybe food if he was luckier.
He climbed the last step and stopped dead in his tracks.
What the hell-
To his left he saw what he hadn’t been able to see before. Hidden by some bushes, were zombie heads stuck on poles. Four of them. It was a gruesome sight. They oozed a dark liquid that dripped slowly onto the ground below them. They were crawling with worms and maggots. Flies buzzed loudly all around them. And the smell? Beyond anything he had encountered so far.
Was it a warning? A pastime for some sicko? There was no telling. And Rafe? He didn’t really want to know. With no law to stop anyone from doing anything they pleased, people made their own rules. They had seen some unbelievable things already. Parents going to any lengths to defend their children. Frightened, desperate groups who were prepared to guard their territory at all costs. And then there were the criminally-inclined who were making the most of an unlawful situation and took what they wanted from anyone who crossed their path just because they could.
He rethought the idea of the diner. He drew in a shallow breath. The smell was worse than awful here in the midday sun. He instinctively stepped backwards, retracing his steps. Despite the hunger gnawing at his belly, he decided it would be better to look elsewhere for food and drink.
But just as he made the decision, he suddenly spun around to face the lumbering figure that was coming right at him. In the midst of a filthy, blood encrusted face, the eyes were not pale or colorless. They were more the color of dead leaves, eyes that glared malevolently at him as the rifle lifted in the man’s hands. He was a giant of a man in filthy overalls and a huge wad of tobacco distorting one cheek.
Rafe was immediately worried about Ren because he hadn’t given him a warning. And then he saw why. Ren had been knocked to the ground by a rough-looking individual who was wielding two lengths of chain as weapons. But Rafe saw Ren get back up on one knee, ready to fight.
A lash of the chains hit him full in the chest again, forcing him backward. He collapsed to his knees in the grass. There was blood on Ren’s shirt and a look of shock on his face as he gasped for air.
The chains rattled viciously again, striking the gravel on the ground before Ren, who raised his arm in defense. He barely managed to deflect another blow to the chest. The man swinging the chains laughed in a diabolically gleeful, high-pitched voice. He was obviously enjoying himself. He began to swing the chains again, over his head this time, with both hands. There was nowhere for Ren to go and Rafe knew there was no way for him to protect himself against what was coming.
As Rafe started to make his way toward the man swinging the chains, the man holding the rifle said, “Don’t try it.”
To anyone who did not know him, it might have looked like Rafe was backing down, but he was gauging his odds and calculating his best move.
He decided. He ducked. The first bullet went wild. The man with the chains spun around, forgetting Ren for a moment.
A second bullet exploded in the morning stillness.
The world reeled around Rafe. There was a heavy feeling in his face. He blinked, saw that the man was aiming the rifle again.
Suddenly there was a deep rumbling sound in the distance.
Rafe wanted to turn his head, to see what was causing the sound, but for some reason he couldn’t quite manage it. The sunlight was bright beyond the man with the rifle so that he was just a dark silhouette. Rafe could see what was causing the noise now. A cement truck was barreling down the center of the road. Instead of slowing down, it kept coming.
Everything happened fast after that. After taking out the man with the rifle and the one with the chains, the cement truck left the pavement and careened precariously down the shoulder of the road. As the heavy truck bounced madly, the cement mixer on the back of the truck separated and hit the road with a tremendous crash. After skidding along the pavement in a shower of sparks for a few yards, the mixer took out a section of guard rail. Then, like an unstoppable force, it kept going, flattening trees and anything else in its path. It kept rolling, all the way down the steep embankment to the highway below. With another huge crash, it finally hit an abandoned truck and lay there in a cloud of dust like a dead elephant. The cement truck, which had also left the roadway, stopped only when it hit a shallow ditch where it overturned and came to rest on its side.
Miraculously, the driver appeared to be all right. A dazed Rafe watched the man wiggle out of the driver’s side window. But Rafe could barely stand now and he swayed uncertainly as he stood there in the center of the road.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a bloodied Ren rushing towards him. But the ground was already coming up to meet Rafe. Seconds later the entire scene around him evaporated as he faded into an oblivion of darkness.
Eymann Buckminster was getting better at surviving in the violent new world that he had suddenly and involuntarily been thrust into. He used to spend hours upon hours carefully planning out every detail of his daily routine, not to mention his future. He used to get a lot of satisfaction out of just knowing how everything was going to turn out.
Now the most he could hope for was getting through a single day.
He nodded his head slowly, agreeing with Caleb Lydon who had just said that to survive they had to maintain a positive attitude, if not for their own sakes, then for everyone else’s. They were on their way to Ashford where Eymann’s sister, Lauryn, lived. After talking it over at length, they had decided that they would have a better chance of surviving in the country. While Lauryn had always talked about being prepared for any disasters that might come along, Eymann’s idea of security and preparedness had always been financial. But that was in the past. He had been forced to look at things differently now.
They were almost halfway to Ashford. They had gone as far as they could and then they had been forced to abandon their vehicles. The roads had gotten too dangerous to travel on, most of them. They had encountered one ambush and barely missed another, which forced them to face the fact that there were people out there who would take what they had, even if it was by force. They didn’t know what to expect once they did get to Ashford, especially after everything they had encountered so far, but they reasoned that since Ashford was a small town and there weren’t as many people living there, there shouldn’t be as many of the undead to deal with.
“Of course, we don’t know what we’ll find when we do get there,” Eymann said as he continued to discuss it all with Caleb. “But I know my sister will take us in. She’s not the kind of person to turn anyone away.”
Caleb shifted his gaze over to Helice who, looking positively hateful, asked, “And if we get there and we find out that she’s- ” She didn’t finish what she had begun to say, but everyone knew what she meant. “What do we do then?” she wanted to know.
“Then we cross that bridge when we come to it,” Caleb answered her insensitive question. “And we stay positive until we know something different.”
He looked back at Eymann as Helice said a little acidly, “I’m just facing all the possibilities. Someone has to be realistic.”
So far, everyone had been brutally realistic. They’d had no choice. The thought that something could have happened to Lauryn had already occurred to everyone. It was a sobering thought for all of them, especially Eymann. But if they got to Ashford and found out the worst, then they would deal with it. There was no sense borrowing trouble that didn’t already exist. There was plenty of that already.
Caleb repeated his earlier advice. “Let’s think positively.” And then, because Eymann had grown very quiet, Caleb tried to change the subject. “I’ve been thinking that when we do get there, a barbeque sounds good. What do you think, Eymann?”
Helice’s head shot up. A barbecue? Was he kidding? Did that include karaoke?
“That does sound good,” Eymann said. “But what would we cook?”
“I can hunt,” Caleb answered him. “I’ve done it before and I was pretty good at it. There are deer everywhere and it doesn’t look like they’re affected by whatever this is.”
“You need a gun to hunt,” Eymann reminded him.
Caleb nodded. “You’re right. We’ll have to see about locating one.”
“Lauryn has guns,” Eymann told him.
“What I would like is a long soak in a hot tub,” Selia sighed wistfully.
Eymann could not, for the life of him, keep from envisioning her naked in a tub of steaming, scented water. Even with Helice sitting right there beside him. He noticed that Helice didn’t say anything about Selia’s longing for a bath, nor did she voice any wish for herself. Not out loud, at least. She just sat there, barely suppressing the snide, contemptuous look on her face. She was restless tonight, he knew. Eymann knew the signs. Helice was headed for one of her emotional meltdowns. At least in the old world she would have been headed there. Now? What would happen was anyone’s guess. In the past, strangers usually received the brunt of her frustration, but there weren’t that many strangers around for her to fight with anymore.
It was easy enough for Eymann to see that the Lydons, who weren’t exactly strangers anymore, brought out the worst in Helice. She was like a pressure cooker about to blow. He had always suspected that there was a deep-seated jealousy at Helice’s core and he couldn’t help but be aware that she was especially jealous of Selia who just by existing made Helice pale in comparison. Eymann knew that Helice barely tolerated the other woman. It was the same with Caleb. As for Otis, Helice didn’t like dogs. Period. She never had.
She was giving a death glare right now to Caleb who was playing with Otis. The small dog had rolled playfully over onto his back. Caleb, who laughed out loud, reached over and accommodated the wiggling animal with a prolonged belly rub. “I think you like the idea of a barbeque, too, don’t you, Mr. Chubbs?”
Eymann could almost feel Helice silently seething next to him.
The next day, Eymann reluctantly approached Helice who was standing in the shadows of some trees, watching the small group of people who had gathered together for a meal.
“How many more of them is he going to invite?” Helice fumed in a low, angry voice.
Eymann didn’t have to ask to know that she was talking about Caleb. Another small group of people had joined them yesterday. That made eight of them in all.
“What on earth is there to celebrate?” Helice went on in a heated undertone.
After thinking it over, Caleb and Selia had decided to celebrate the anniversary of their first date. Caleb said there had to be some good things to celebrate, even in this world. Eymann could kind of see their point. It was one way to stay positive. Not that he would have thought of celebrating his own anniversary. In fact, he usually tried very hard to avoid thinking of how many years he and Helice had been together.
“They’re eating up all of our food,” Helice informed him through tightly-clenched teeth. “I thought we agreed that not a crumb was to be wasted.” She continued to glare at the group of celebrating people, taking a mental inventory of every bite of food that was being devoured, as Helice put it, ‘with willful and selfish gluttony by people who should know better.’
“Nothing is being wasted,” Eymann told her. “They brought their own food to share with us, too. And tomorrow we’ll go back to strict rationing.”
“Tomorrow,” Helice scoffed bitterly. “After everything is gone. Just look at them. They’re stuffing themselves like there’s no tomorrow.”
Eymann thought it was an odd choice of words, given their current circumstances.
“Caleb thought it was important,” he said, treading carefully. “And I agree with him, especially after everything we’ve been through.”
“Oh, do you. As for Caleb,” she mocked the name with a curl of her lip. “Is there anything he says that you don’t go along with? I don’t know what world you are all living in, because it certainly isn’t this one. Not if you keep acting like nothing is wrong.”
“What do you want us to do, Helice?”
“Stop pretending, for one thing.” Her head spun around as she glared vindictively across the open space that separated them from the others. “And they could stop pawing each other in the open, for starters.”
Caleb and Selia were sitting side by side. Caleb had his arm around Selia’s shoulders but they certainly weren’t pawing each other.
“This- This predicament that we’re in- ” Helice sputtered. “It doesn’t change the fact that they chose to live in sin without getting married. Have you forgotten that?”
Actually he had forgotten, but having a wedding band on one’s finger didn’t always insure that two people loved and lived happily ever after. Selia and Caleb seemed to genuinely like and respect each other. What was the phrase? They seemed to be soul mates.
In comparison, Helice and Eymann’s relationship was a travesty. A joke. And Eymann suspected that under the surface the silent comparison grated on Helice’s nerves.
But he didn’t say any of that to Helice. He kept those thoughts to himself as he sighed inwardly for all that he had never had, for all that he never would have. He r
ealized full well that he had been walking on eggshells lately where Helice was concerned. His jaw hardened as he realized he was seeing more signs of the coming storm. And when it came, he already had a bad feeling that it was going to be volcanic, and there wasn’t a single thing he was going to be able to do to stop it.
Helice was staring hard at Bogard Atcher, the head of the new group, as if she hoped he would choke on his food. She didn’t say it out loud but, clearly, Helice didn’t like the man. She hadn’t liked him at first sight.
Out of his own frustration, Eymann said, “Look, this isn’t an ideal situation. No one is saying it is. But why don’t we try to make the best of it instead of going out of our way to find things to complain about.” He had almost said bitch about, but he thought better of it. “That isn’t going to do anyone, especially us, any good.”
With that he stomped off into the darkness, leaving a gaping Helice staring after him.
Selia sat with her head against Caleb’s shoulder as she stared at the stars above them. “The stars haven't changed," she said. "They're still shining as brightly as ever.”
They were. It seemed like the entire sky was sprinkled with the twinkling lights. It was a beautiful, almost awe-inspiring sight.
“Maybe the stars are there to remind us that some things will never change,” Caleb soliloquized as he, too, gazed upward.
Standing in the darkness at a distance was Helice, who still had not joined in the festivities and she looked like she had no intention of doing so.
“She didn’t like me before all this started,” Selia said with a surreptitious glance in her direction. “She likes me even less now that we’ve been thrown together like this.”
“I don’t know if there’s anyone that she does like,” Caleb said with a sigh as he continued to contemplate the stars.