The silence was broken by a knock on the door. Lorena tried standing up from the couch to check what was happening, but Rowan blocked her with his hand.
“You think they’re sick?” he whispered.
“I don’t know.”
The knocking persisted. Rowan was relieved that the house happened to have dark curtains, as the person outside wouldn’t be able to tell if anyone was inside. At least, that’s what he hoped.
“Hey!” yelled a man from outside. “I saw you two come into this house from a distance away, and I was wondering if you guys would like to trade anything? I promise I’m not dangerous—a promise doesn’t mean anything anymore, but still—if I was trying to hurt you guys I wouldn’t have knocked.”
“What do we do?” asked Lorena.
“Fuck. I don’t know. He knows we’re here. If we don’t do anything, he’ll come for us.”
“Can we trust him?”
“No, no we can’t. There’s no reason to, no matter what he says.”
“Come on!” the man yelled again. “If you keep pretending like I don’t exist, I could just keep screaming really loudly and attract the attention of one of those sick people. You’ve got nothing to lose by seeing what I have to offer!”
“Fuck this piece of shit,” muttered Rowan as he got up to look through the door’s peephole. “Okay, fine, stand back from the door and I’ll let you in.”
The man stepped back. He was middle-aged, weathered down with wrinkles that cut unevenly across his forehead. He had a deep grin that extended from one ear to the other, which reminded Rowan of a creepy, human-like mask that one might find at a costume store. It didn’t look like he was holding any weapons, so Rowan opened the door and let him stroll in.
“Sorry about that,” said the man. “It’s just that nobody trusts anybody anymore. It’s beyond crazy to me! We all need each other’s help more than ever, and suddenly everyone is unwilling to talk and trade. It’s just silly.”
“If we didn’t wanna talk, then we didn’t wanna talk,” said Lorena. “We don’t have anything for you.”
“I’m not trading for my sake, I’m trading for your sake, and letting you people know that there’s still some good in this world. You should be open to these things. You never really know what you need until you actually see it. Come check my stuff out!”
Rowan interrupted the man, who was removing his backpack. “Why weren’t you afraid of us being dangerous? For all you know, we could’ve just killed you as you walked in.”
“You guys?” the man laughed. “You guys don’t look very dangerous. Besides, I haven’t run into anyone quite dangerous yet.” He lifted his shirt and pointed to his holstered pistol.
“Well, we don’t have much—”
“Oh, by the way, my name’s Michael.” The man extended his hand, but Rowan ignored it.
“I’m Rowan, and the girl’s Lorena.”
“Well then,” he said, kneeling to place his backpack on the floor. “Nice to meet you, Rowan and Lorena.”
“Listen, we really don’t have anything to trade,” said Rowan. “Or, rather, we don’t have anything we’re willing to trade.”
Michael looked up at him. “That’s a big shame for all of us here. But, that’s fine.” He rose from the ground and stretched out his arms.
“So, is that it? We’re not really comfortable with other people being here with us. I’m sure you understand, considering everything that’s been going on.”
“What?” Michael laughed. “No way! You don’t even want a little bit of conversation? You two look depressed as hell. Let’s lighten up the mood! You guys must have an interesting story to tell—I mean, you’re both… kids. How on earth did that happen?”
Lorena glowered at him. “We don’t want to talk about that. We just want you to go.”
“Sorry. I think my personality is a little overbearing, to put it lightly. I didn’t mean to offend you or tug on any sensitive strings. I’m really just trying to help you guys. Honestly.”
Michael put his backpack on and leaned against the door. “I used to run a stall at the local flea market down in Ventura where I live—or, well, used to live. It’s maybe… twenty miles away from here, or something like that. Wouldn’t take a whole day to get there, actually. What I’ve got in my backpack is the remnants of what I had left from my stall, and it sure isn’t a whole lot. You guys won’t believe how chaotic the place got as soon as the news announced what had happened. I tried fighting people off, but people are crazy! That’s why I’m telling you guys that we all need each other’s help more than ever, but look at what’s been going on—everyone just turns to looting and pillaging and killing and all sorts of end-of-the-world bullshit like that. I just thought that maybe you kids wouldn’t have gotten as affected as everyone else. But I guess we’ve all changed.”
Rowan briefly looked over at Lorena before turning back to Michael. “I get you. It’s been hard for everyone. Lorena and I are heading to San Jose so we can find my family and friends, and finding supplies for the journey has been difficult. That’s why I was saying we have nothing to trade.”
“San Jose? That’s far. Why bother?”
“What do you mean? I just told you that I’m looking for my family and friends.”
“They’re probably dead. There isn’t any use—”
“They’re not dead,” growled Rowan. “My mom and dad didn’t work hard their whole lives just for it to end in suffering. I won’t let that happen.”
“A lifetime of struggle isn’t always rewarded with happiness. Besides, how are you supposed to make a difference if you’re all the way out here?”
Lorena stood up and reached for her bag. “You need to leave.”
“What? Do either of you have any sense?”
“She’s right,” said Rowan. “You—”
“Listen, listen, all right?” Michael walked forward and set his bag on the table in front of Lorena. “Why don’t you both just stay with me? It’ll be safer.”
“You don’t seem to understand that I have to help my family. Why the fuck would we stay with someone like you?”
“Your family is dead. You can’t do a thing for them. I’m telling you not to waste—”
There was a loud crack. Rowan had swung his crowbar at Michael’s skull, knocking him down to the ground. The boy couldn’t move for a moment, but after several screams and cries from the writhing bastard, Rowan fumbled to take the pistol from the man’s holster before Michael had the chance to drag himself back up.
“Don’t,” Michael moaned.
“Rowan, what are you—”
The boy took Lorena’s hand and ran straight out the front door without even bothering to close it behind him. There were a few people approaching the house now, all of them likely coming to investigate Michael’s screaming and yelling earlier. Rowan almost stopped in place to ask them for help, but their impassioned scowls were a hint of the evil lurking behind their eyes. In an instant, they began chasing Rowan and Lorena down the street, though the two children were sprinting so fast that they lost them once they turned the corner.
“Over here,” said Rowan. He ran toward an open backyard, thrusting his way past the front gate of the house and into a disfigured yard littered with cracked lawn gnomes and limp, pink flamingos. Lorena then followed him into an old, broken down shed that creaked with each of their slightest movements.
“Rowan—”
“I know. I know what I did.”
“Why did you do that?”
Rowan held his breath, only letting it go once he placed his crowbar on the floor. “He might’ve attacked us with his gun if we weren’t careful. He was pressuring us to stay with him, and—”
“But that’s not why you hit him, was it?”
“No,” said Rowan with a whisper. “No, you heard him. You heard what he said.”
Lorena slowly leaned back against the rear wall of the shed. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry you had to see that.�
�
“It’s okay. I have no right to judge you. I think I would’ve done the same thing if he was talking about my dad.”
Rowan spoke soft and slow. “He’s wrong about my parents, you know.”
“I know. We’ll find them.”
“I keep telling myself that, but what if he’s right? I’m filled with doubts every single day, and I don’t think my heart has rested ever since I heard about the bombings.”
“Rowan—”
“We could be walking all of this way and suffering just for nothing. What if I really can’t do anything for them after all?”
“We need to try at least.”
“Yeah. It’s just—it’s just that it’s really hard to think that way sometimes.”
Lorena watched Rowan carefully put the gun away into his backpack. “I know what you mean.”
“You’re right, though. We’ll keep trying.”
“Good,” said Lorena. “Because I want to find them as much as you do.”
9
Two more days had now passed. The pumpkin-colored sky set Rowan and Lorena into a desperate scramble, as they needed to find somewhere safe before it got dark. Every house they passed by, however, was either completely wrecked or had people grumbling from within. And as they approached each road, they peeked down every possible route to seek out a clear path. But there was nothing.
For some reason, the city they were in was consumed by a horde of infected that were similar to the ravenous woman who had attacked Rowan back in Los Angeles. At first, Rowan thought that he and Lorena had finally found a safe-zone, but once they got closer to the mob, it was clear that something was amiss. Not a single person was communicating with each other. Instead, they were using the primal fury within each of their five senses to desperately search for something to devour. They could taste fear in the open air, smell unadulterated flesh, and hear creeping breaths. One small mistake would quite possibly get Rowan and Lorena killed.
The most disturbing thing to Rowan, however, was not the horde of infected. It was the fact that there were so many sirens here—much like in San Jose and Los Angeles—and yet they appeared to have done nothing for the people here. There was a siren on nearly every street corner. If the sirens went off and warned people of forthcoming danger, then why was everyone still either dead or infected? There was a simple answer: the sirens were useless. They were never going to be enough to protect people from a real crisis, no matter what the government said about them. Rowan knew what this ultimately meant: the sirens in San Jose wouldn’t have done anything for the people there either.
He ran down an alleyway and spotted an empty corner store across the street. “Lorena, I think we should go for that place over there, so get ready to run as fast as you can, all right?”
She stayed as close to him as she could. The boy peeked around the corner, spying a person slowly approaching them from the end of the street.
“We’ve got a problem,” he said, pulling out his crowbar.
“Are they sick?”
“They’ve got to be.”
“What do we do?”
“Fuck, I don’t know. What if we turn back and look elsewhere?”
“There’s too many from where we just came from.”
“All right, then,” said Rowan. “If we have to use force, then we will. You up for it?”
Lorena readied her knife. “I’m not sure. They’re still a person.”
“I know. But we might not have a choice if they hurt us or try to hurt us.”
“Okay, I’ll trust you then.”
The person—a young man wearing a UCSB college sweater—soon appeared. He turned his head toward the dimly lit alleyway to investigate the loud breathing he suddenly sensed, but he didn’t see anything. Luckily for Rowan and Lorena, he didn’t investigate any further. They waited for his footsteps to peter out in the distance before they darted toward the corner store ahead.
Rowan held the door open for Lorena, who then scurried behind a shelf to hide from any of the infected that may have been watching them. The boy followed suit and crouched next to her.
“You see anything coming?” he whispered.
“No. Not yet. I think we’re safe.”
Rowan breathed a sigh of relief and took his backpack off. “Okay, let’s check this place out and see if anyone is in here.”
Lorena followed him around the store, but they found absolutely nothing, save for a few empty bottles of liquor littered about. They moved their belongings behind the counter and lied down beside them on the hard, frigid, tiled floor.
“I’ll keep watch to make sure nobody comes in,” said Rowan, sitting back up against the counter. “You go to sleep, okay? We’ll trade off later tonight when I start feeling more exhausted. Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah, I am. But what about you? You really aren’t too tired yet?”
“I can handle it.”
“Just wake me up if you need me, or if something happens and I need to know about it.”
“Of course.”
As Lorena lied down to sleep, Rowan looked around the place again. It reminded him of the liquor store that was by his family’s apartment, as the walls were adorned with old football schedules and the ground was cluttered with stacks of used lottery slips. The most familiar thing to Rowan, however, was the ancient television in the corner of the room that looked like it hadn’t been turned on in over a decade. Cobwebs and dust lined each of the four corners of the screen, and every time Rowan stared at it, he felt the urge to grab a duster and clean it off. But this wasn’t his store, so it wasn’t as if he would bother to make the effort.
One time, Rowan asked the owner of the liquor store back home why he still had the old television hooked up. The man didn’t even realize that the TV was still there. He was good friends with Rowan’s parents since Rowan’s father always came to buy luckless scratchers, so he offered the boy to take the television if he wanted it, but Rowan refused. They didn’t have much space in their home anyway.
Rowan returned to his spot next to Lorena. For the next few hours, he listened to the faint sound of shuffling feet outside, all of which made him shudder as he didn’t really know if the zombie-like infected people were capable of getting inside or if they would even bother to check inside buildings. They hadn’t made any effort to do so, though, which led Rowan to doze off a couple of times. He wondered if he had a false sense of security, but regardless, he was confident that he and Lorena would wake up at any sign of trouble. They had gotten used to being light sleepers now.
Rowan was nearly asleep when he suddenly heard two voices outside. Were these people sick, too? After all, Andrew was infected and he was able to communicate with him and Lorena. Nevertheless, they were potentially dangerous no matter if they were sick or not. All they needed to be was desperate.
“Lorena,” whispered Rowan, shaking her awake. “I heard two people outside. There might be more.”
She swiftly rose up and put her back against the counter, just like Rowan was doing. Before she could respond to him, the door opened.
“Are you feeling any better?” asked a man.
Rowan’s eyes were hardly adjusted to the dark, and he fumbled to switch the safety off of his gun. One of the intruders seemed like they could be sick.
“Not quite,” said a woman. “It’s good that we found this place.”
“There’s so many of them out there. Why are there so many in this area?”
“A college is nearby. Check the front side of the store, and I’ll check the back. Make sure it’s clear.”
Because of how dark it was, Rowan accidentally managed to dislodge the magazine from his pistol. To his surprise, it was completely empty—Michael must’ve never loaded the gun. Before Rowan could pick up his crowbar, he was interrupted by a bright light that blinded both him and Lorena.
The woman pointed her pistol at them. “A little too loud to be trying to reload your gun at a time like this, isn’t it?”
“We have no bullets,” said Rowan. “You don’t have to worry.”
“Are you infected?” asked Lorena. “Either of you?”
“No. We’re just tired.”
The man picked up the interrogation. “Is there anyone else you two are traveling with? Anyone else we should know about?”
“No,” said Rowan. “It’s just us.”
“No parents, no siblings?”
“No,” muttered Lorena.
“Sorry. We just need to make sure that we’re safe here too. I don’t want someone jumping out from behind a shelf to stab me in the neck. That wouldn’t be good for either of us.”
The woman put her pistol back in its holster. “So, why are you two out here alone? This city is infested. Have you guys been here this entire time?”
“We got here a few hours ago,” said Rowan. “We needed a place to rest for the night, and it didn’t seem like we were gonna find anything better than this. We would’ve probably had to go a few more miles north to find anything worthwhile.”
“Yeah,” said the man. “You’re right about that. There’s dozens of those people out there going for miles, and we were lucky to not get spotted by one of them.”
“Where are you headed then?” asked the woman.
“San Jose,” said Rowan. “I’m trying to find my family, and I’m trying to find someplace safe for my friend Lorena, whether that’s with me or at some place that we decide is safe enough to live in.”
The man dimmed his flashlight and placed it on the counter. “And where’d you come from? Was it safe? Was there anywhere safe at all?”
“Los Angeles. It wasn’t good over there.”
“Shit,” muttered the woman. She tugged on her dark brown curls and shook her head violently. “My husband and I were heading down there to find my family.”
“It’s okay,” said the man. “Karen, it’s okay. We’re gonna find them, no matter what. And then we’ll go from there.”
Seasons After Fall Page 10