"They're fine, but don't expect your house to be too tidy. A lot of them have been staying up there. Safety in numbers. I'll tell you the rest of it later."
Kiera was already running down the hill, wearing a more functional outfit than usual, Kern noted. Jeans and a black button-up shirt. She was crying loudly, and Jacob was right behind her yelling for his father. Quinton opened the door and hopped out, meeting both of them on the side of the trampled hill. Quinton embraced his wife and extended his arm for Jacob, who hit them so hard that they all three slumped to ground, laughing and crying together.
"Well," Dad said, looking at Kern. "Looks like it's going to be a long day."
Oh yes, Kern thought as he rubbed his screaming leg. It was going to be a long week.
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Nine people, all told, died during what was to be known as the Siege. The three who fell when trying to escape the safe house and Kevin were the most notable ones for Kern, but things weren't looking good for Jen, either. She was the other lady who would bring him sweets, and remind him if even just for a little while that the world wasn't as bad as it seemed. She had taken a bad fall, trying to get up to Quinton's home when the dead finally broke through the fences. A broken hip, Quinton confirmed, and a few broken ribs. While these may have been crippling, they weren't life-ending on their own. Her emphysema, coupled with the broken ribs and being bed-ridden, had brought pneumonia. Kern hoped that the antibiotics would work.
That first day was spent in a sort of haze. Kern was so exhausted, and his leg was killing him. Quinton had given him a couple of pills, painkillers and antibiotics, but the sheer weight of the carnage made it to where he couldn't sleep. Shell shocked well-wishers kept popping up at the little house that Kern and Dad shared, Jen's friend Ruth sweeping up the glass from the broken windows against Kern's protests. She stayed with Kern for a bit, Dad gone with Quinton to get the full scope of what had happened.
Pain flared around the edges of the haze the pills put him into. Either they were going bad, or Quinton was saving the high power stuff for those who were in worse shape than he was. Four people were in the infirmary; Kathy and a kid named Sebastian with his broken leg were the only two that stood a chance. The others, a strangely obese woman named Tammy and an old man named Joseph had been bitten. The moral quandary of what to do with them had simmered for the last few days.
Tammy was a drain on the community for the most part, always looking for a way to get out of real work by doing menial things like sweeping porches or whatever else didn't take much energy. If it had just been her, there was no doubt that she would have probably been killed in her sleep. When the last wave of the dead had come up the hill ( there were a few stragglers ), she had left those trying to fight them off and got bitten by a crawler on her way to safety. Joseph, one of the older members, had gotten bit in that fight.
Kern wasn't too interested in the outcome. If it were up to him, they would already be dead. Where was the sense or logic in wasting resources on someone they knew was already going to die? Maybe if Quinton had gotten to Tammy in time, he could have amputated her leg. Now the infection had spread too far. Joseph had been bitten twice, once on his hip. He wouldn't have had a chance either way.
Now that they were back, and Kern's leg could get proper treatment, he would be back on his feet in a few days, he hoped. The dull throb had been infection setting up in his leg, but the antibiotics would take care of that. He doubted that Quinton would give him any for the road, so he might have to procure them himself. If nothing else, he still had his antibiotic ointment and a half bottle of antibiotics of his own that he had found. Whether they worked or not was up for debate.
There was another variable in the equation now. He and Kacie had become close over the two weeks they had spent hiding from the dead. Not only did they enjoy uncountable games of cards, but they had also enjoyed each others' company. One night, when the noise of the dead was so loud outside, she had stayed by his side, the two of them whispering and absent mindedly playing war with her deck of cards. Kern was in the process of explaining to her why Dragon Ball was better than Naruto ( she was a reality show girl, when she watched television ) when he noticed her snoring softly. In the morning when she woke up, she saw him looking down at her and didn't move. If he could convince her, she had to come with them. No matter what Dad said.
Dad. That was another subject altogether. Kern understood that he needed companionship just like anyone else, especially in light of his budding relationship with Kacie. But with the woman that had tried to kill his son? That was intolerable. Kern would confront him about it, but not until things had died down. Lori was still a part of this community, and Kern didn't want any ill feelings toward him or Dad when they did decide to leave. Anything they could get from the others for their journey was added resources, and if he played his cards right it would be like taking candy from a baby. He knew what was needed to survive out there. The others, having been living a life of extreme luxury given the circumstances and current state of the world, didn't.
He had used a few of his resources, kept in his pack, during the weeks under siege. Tomorrow he would take a full inventory and then start trying to find what they needed. For the moment, the list consisted of toothpaste, painkillers, and candy. All in abundant supply around here. He would go through Dad's pack, too, when he was there. Most of what he needed was probably in the bags Kern had stashed around the house.
Right now, though, he needed to rest. The power was out, the lines from the water turbines having been trampled on, so the fans weren't working. It was still better than the sweltering heat of the safe house, and he was relishing it. One of the first things Dad had done was bring a case of bottled water and several mason jars with purified water down. Empty plastic bottles littered the area beside the couch, a testament to Kern's fight against dehydration. His sole focus for the next day was to replenish himself.
There was a knock on the door. Kern reached beneath the crumpled shirt on the side table, making sure his pistol was still there. When he answered, the door opened, and in came Lori. Dad wasn't around, so the inhibition to roll his eyes was unrestrained. Lori looked at him sheepishly, one of those types of people to write off any slight, conceived or real, in the hopes that it wasn't there. She looked terrible. Her clothes were still caked in grime and her face greasy with patches of dust and dirt on it. Kern, smelling somewhat fresh after a doctor-ordered bath to make sure his leg didn't get worse, almost felt sorry for her.
"I'm glad you made it out okay," she said, clasping her hands in front of her waist nervously.
"I bet." Lori winced.
"I'm sure you don't feel the same about me."
"That wouldn't be a nice way to feel, now would it?" Kern felt the urge to cross his arms in a show of superiority, but didn't move his hand from under the shirt. His finger was already on the trigger.
"No, it wouldn't. Listen, Kern, I'm trying to make it up to you for what I did. You don't know what it was like losing Julie, and then being out there on my own, by myself for months." Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, her voice beginning to break. Kern groaned silently, hoping she didn't have another one of her famous meltdowns.
"And yes, I ran," she continued, her voice had broken now and she was talking in between sobs. "I know what everyone who was with us thinks about me now, especially Quinton's disappointment. He won't say anything, but I know you will, and probably Pete and Kacie, too. And when that happens, everyone will hate me. But I'm still going to try to make things up to you." Kern shook his head in disbelief.
"Why are you here? Dad's gone, and I don't really care to talk to you."
"Alright, then, you want me to leave, I guess."
"Absolutely," Kern said indignantly.
Lori was a pitiful creature to behold in that moment. Kern knew this was her last ditch effort to salvage something. Kern knew better. Even if most of the others held the fact she ran against her, which he doubted, they would unde
rstand. In her mind, however, her world was once again crashing down around her. Kern could see through the facade, though. It might take some other kind of traumatic event, but she would go after him again. If only to make sure that she had Dad all to herself.
Lori ducked her head, and Kern could hear the sobs as she ran out the front door, slamming it on her way out.
Just as quickly as it shut, it opened once again. Kern smiled, and withdrew his hand from the pistol. Kacie was now in the doorway. She had bathed and was wearing fresh clothes ( if there was one thing they didn't have to worry about the dead doing, it was looting ). Her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Kern had never noticed just how fiery it was, but now that the light was shining on it and it had been washed, it was a sight to behold.
"What was that all about?" Kacie asked warily. Of course she knew what Lori had done to him.
"She was just in here acting stupid again. She shoots a guy, and then thinks she can hang around him and make it all feel better."
"Really?" Kacie smirked. "I don't think that's totally it. I think she has a thing for your Dad."
"Yeah," Kern said, trying to look composed while the rage simmered underneath. "She might, but she won't get very far. Besides, we have to be moving on as soon as my leg heals up."
"You aren't the only one," she said, sitting more closely than a casual friend on the couch. She laid her head on his shoulder. So was it official?
"What do you mean?"
"Four people have already left. They said that they warned Quinton about the security measures. Then there's those who feel like they might be better off trying to find somewhere else safer."
"Unless you can find a place where the government and the army still run things, there isn't any place that's safer."
"I know that, but after what happened here, most of the people don't feel safe anymore. Seeing people die, and then watching some of those who survived dying a slow death in the infirmary is too much for everyone."
"This place was too fragile," Kern replied, running his fingers through her hair. "It could have worked, but only if the people running it knew exactly what the dangers were. You, no offense, and the others hadn't seen what me and Dad had seen out there. Maybe a handful did, but they were more than happy to let their guard down. Hot food. Showers. Electricity. And over half of them had never even fought the dead.
"I like to think Kings Mill can thrive again, but it can only do that with enough people. What's the net loss now? About fifteen or so? Things aren't looking good. That's a big part of the work force, so that means more work to be spread around. It can still work, though. Maybe everyone else will stay. But will they build better walls? Maybe work on some kind of trench system to funnel another siege around and away? Will it be safe?"
"I don't know," Kacie said, burrowing closer to him. "I've felt safe here, but I think it was only a false safety. Quinton is like our mayor, and Kevin was our sheriff. It seemed like things, at least here, were running the way they were supposed to. Now with Kevin gone," there was a hitch in her breath, "I don't know. But I do know one thing, I feel safe with you and Aaron."
Finally, the events of the past two weeks had caught up with her. Here she was, a girl with no family. All alone in this messed up world. At first, she tried to hold back the tears and the sobs, but the floodgates broke, and she buried her head into Kern's chest and wrapped her arms tightly around him.
That night as he lay in bed, his head floating just between the world of dreams and waking from the painkillers, he knew that everything had changed. For two years, an eternity it felt like, it had just been Dad and him. They watched each others' backs, and their only thought from one moment to the next was the survival of the two of them as a team. As father and son.
How would Kacie fall into all of this? She had agreed to go with them the second he asked her just before she gave him the deepest kiss he had ever gotten. Not that he had a lot to choose from, but something felt real about it. It felt right.
She got a sense of excitement as they made out a list of everything they would need for the journey. It was an excitement she should have been feeling about a school dance, if the world hadn't went to hell like it had. Kern worried that she wouldn't stay the course and go with them, that the fear of the world outside would just be too much. Luckily for him, she had already gotten everything they needed for her pack, and she slept soundly by it in her bed. She was dreaming about the two of them riding horses, then sitting down to a campfire where Dad was fixing chili.
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Even though it hadn't been refrigerated in over a week, the beer was still cool from being locked away in the cellar. Dad sipped on it that morning, taking in everything that had happened and the state of Kings Mill. The bitterness of the drink kept him grounded, so long as he didn't have too many. This was his third, and the sun hadn't even crested above the trees yet. He hadn't slept all night, the all-consuming fear that the dead would return making sleep impossible. Fear, his old friend, had come to sit up with him.
It was devastating. Now ten people were dead, and soon it would be eleven. Not to mention some had already left and others were contemplating it themselves. Daniel had quickly "deputized" two men he thought were mostly loyal to keep the people from raiding all of the supplies. The crops had been trampled on this side of the hill, but luckily the lowland fields were still intact. The gas generators would still work, as would the solar panels, but only a few of the homes had working electricity. The dead had a way of clumsily ripping wires when they stomped and groped. The hydro generators had been trampled along with the wiring, but they were confident that they could get them on.
Even though it made Dad sick to his stomach to think of leaving such good people at a time like this, he knew it was almost time to move on before the community imploded. Factions were beginning to form. He had no doubt that Quinton would come out on top. Most of the rabble rousers would fall in line once things had settled down, but there would probably be a few that would want to try a coup before setting off on their own. Then there would be the endless debates about security, what to fix, how to reinforce, and the food situation for the winter. It was a mess Dad didn't want to be a part of.
And Lori, oh man how was he going to shake her now? He hadn't had a chance to rebuke her for the hastily planted kiss on the bank of the river before everything went south. Then two weeks of her leaning against him while she slept and how he had consoled her. Maybe it would have been best to tell her when they were trapped that he wasn't interested. Maybe if he had, she would have had a nervous breakdown and none of them would be there now. It was a toss up.
There were seven vehicles, and Dad knew that Quinton would be hard pressed to give them one. Maybe he could use the leverage of saving Jacob to his advantage. Kern would just want to take one. It would be easy enough, he guessed. Stealing was wrong, though. Even in this world. If they didn't hold on to whatever humanity and morality they had, then everything was truly lost. And if they got to Canton, then maybe everything would be alright.
Canton, the great bastion on the hill. It was the encapsulation of all his and Kerns' hope. That was what kept them moving along now. Dad had gotten comfortable in Kings Mill, but he knew it was only temporary. The siege had only expedited things. No doubt Kern knew it, too. And Dad wasn't oblivious to Kern's budding relationship with Kacie. In the old world, he would have chalked it up to a teenage crush, probably not even lasting a month. In this new world, maybe it would last a lot longer. Options were limited, especially when you wondered if each day was your last.
Dad picked out which vehicle he planned on taking; the small red truck with the camper top on the back. The camper top gave their supplies some protection from the elements, and it had the half-doors which opened up to the two little seats in the back. Never ideal, even when they came out, but enough to fit Kacie in and their packs.
He poured over the maps until late that night. With two of the bridges being out, there were only
two realistic options, drive the same direction the horde had went and take their chances that the Col. Reed Bridge wasn't still jammed and too busted ( which it probably was ), or head North, on the windy, country roads, and try to get across one of the three bridges up there, in the heart of rural America. The decision was obvious.
Now, there was the question of how to get the truck.
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Blisters had one redeeming quality; that they only showed up when the work was done. The last week and a half had been the hardest that he had since the beginning. Back breaking work. Hauling and setting the new fence posts, thicker and more robust, then stringing double layers of barbed wire around the already wood-supported frames. They weren't just farm fences anymore. They looked like something out of a war movie.
The rest of the community had been hard at it as well. While three more people had left, they wouldn't be missed. Yosniel's band of trouble makers. That actually made Dad more wary than if they had stayed. Knowledge was currency these days, and knowledge of a community with food and medicine could fetch a pretty hefty price.
What crops could be harvested were in the process, then immediately canned. What couldn't be salvaged due to being trampled or contaminated was being burned, then the top soil being removed, hauled out into the woods, and replaced with the potting soil which languished in every hardware store within a fifty mile radius. A crew was working on getting the power back up and protecting it by running it underground and building casings for the hydro generators. It was looking like it would be a few weeks before it would be done.
That was good, because the weather had already turned to being cool in the morning. Fall in the South usually meant two weeks of brisk mornings with scorching afternoons, then a few weeks of near-freezing, and everyone would be wearing short sleeves by Thanksgiving. That had put a damper on Dad's plans. Weather patterns in this part of the world varied greatly even within a hundred mile radius. He didn't know if they could expect snow or not when Winter came in earnest, but he didn't want to take that chance.
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