Verna looked askance at Kyle’s face and gave his septum a soft prod with her fingertips. “The capillaries in the nasal area are delicate and easily damaged.”
If Verna’s touch was painful, Kyle stoically took it without recoil. He simply gave a polite wave of dismissal. “Thanks, Verna, but it’s nothing.”
Her eyes narrowed in mock annoyance. “I see, I’m compromising your macho, right?”
“Exactly,” Jordan interjected. “A man has his image to maintain, you know. To impress the ladies.” He shot a grin in my direction.
Kyle and Verna turned their attention toward me, with expectant expressions on their faces. “You’re moving slower. Is it your foot?” Verna asked me.
“What? What do you mean?”
“Your foot,” she repeated. “Is that why you fell behind?”
Warmth spread across my neck and cheeks, and I turned away, pretending interest in the distant hills. I’d screwed up, big time, by letting down my guard. It wasn’t like me to get so lost in my own head that I would place us in danger. Maybe I was more tired than I realized. I shook my head. “No, the foot’s fine. We need a plan for tonight,” I said, changing the subject.
Kyle’s lips tightened as he and Verna exchanged glances that carried both question and concern. “Yeah, about that,” he said, “it’s getting colder, and I know we’re getting close to a river, based on what I saw on maps back at the safe zone. When we passed over that last ridge, I spotted a reflection ahead in the distance and judging from the lay of the land, I think it’s probably that river. It could be a creek. I couldn’t tell for sure. Regardless, we’ll probably have to cross. There won’t be a way around it without going pretty far off course. We should camp here for tonight and check it out in the morning, rather than risk getting wet before nightfall.”
“Makes sense,” Jordan agreed. “I saw a clear spot where we could set up.”
Kyle gestured an emphatic no with a nod of his head. He pointed toward a thick patch of brambles in the woods. “We need to camp in the middle of that.”
Jordan gave a sarcastic laugh. “That’s a joke, right?”
“No,” Verna said. “Kyle’s right. When we went into hiding on my assignment in Haiti, our commander had us stay in the densest part of the rainforest because it deterred people from coming after us.”
“So, yeah, it would discourage humans,” Jordan agreed, “but what about zombies? They don’t exactly think.”
“Right, they don’t, but we can secure the perimeter in there more easily than we could in an open area,” Kyle explained. “We’ll clear enough space to sleep, build a fire pit, and set some rudimentary alarms on the outer edges. We need to get to work. There’s a lot to do before dark.”
Kyle instructed us on how to set up the camp. He broke a small branch from a tree, crouched to his knees, and sketched a diagram of his plans into the dirt, explaining the necessary components for a sleeping spot, a fire pit, and security measures. We divvied up the tasks to get the work done with haste. Despite our fatigue, we moved with efficiency, breaking off bramble stems at ground level in a square large enough for our camp space. Kyle showed Jordan how to bend branches backward and secure them. They unraveled portions of sock cuffs to make poly-cotton strands, for fashioning tripwires. Positioning the strings a few inches from the ground, Kyle explained how anyone or anything that might walk by would catch the cotton with their feet. Jordan walked through one of the traps to test it and show Verna and me how it worked. Kyle instructed us to listen for the subtle snap and rustle that would alert us to potential danger if the branches were released.
To construct a windbreak, we gathered deadfall and loosely wove the bits of branches into the bushes around our campsite, on the north side. After several layers were in place, the barrier effectively blocked most of the wind.
The final task involved digging a fire hole. Kyle did most of the work on this and explained the process as he worked. Using a sturdy stick as a shovel, he removed enough dirt to create an opening about ten inches in diameter and one foot deep.
“This air tunnel,” he explained as he hollowed out a secondary chute on one side, “will help to draw in oxygen to keep the fire going. With the flames burning inside the pit, fresh air will be drawn in through the air tunnel, which forces hot air out of the main hole.”
“So, you’ll have enough heat, but the flames won’t be visible above ground,” Jordan concluded.
“Exactly. You’ll have less smoke, too, because it’s a very efficient fuel burner,” Kyle continued.
We gathered pieces of the driest branches we could find and broke them into pieces small enough to fit into the hole. I collected dead leaves and dry grasses for tinder to start the fire, and Verna arranged it at the base of the pit. I piled on a few slightly more substantial sections of twigs on top of the tinder, in a teepee formation. Using the matches that we’d taken from the truck stop, Verna struggled to light the fire, and, after several attempts, Jordan crouched beside her and blew into the hole. The flames caught the tinder, and soon the walls glowed, illuminating our hopeful expressions.
Dinner consisted of packets of peanut butter and crackers, Vienna Sausages, and bottled water. Afterward, Verna and Jordan volunteered to take the first watch. Kyle and I emptied everyone’s duffel bags and spread the empty packs on the ground to sleep on. We settled into the cramped space and lay down. Since we’d been working on the campsite, we were both still warm from the exertion, and we felt some heat from the fire pit, as well. Despite the bumpy, rock-hard ground, my fatigue overtook me, and I slept.
***
A few hours later, I awoke to Verna, jostling my arm. I’d been in such a deep sleep that it was a struggle to rouse myself. The air had turned to a penetrating cold, and my joints had stiffened. It made me feel old. Verna took my spot next to Kyle, and I joined Jordan beside the fire. He sat there staring into the black nothingness around us, with his gun resting across his lap.
“Sleep well?” he asked, keeping his voice low. A note of sarcasm was evident in his tone.
“What do you think?” I whispered back. It was oddly quiet out here in this vacant land. There were no typical night noises you might expect in the country, possibly because of the changing weather, I reasoned. I sat cross-legged beside my friend and eyed the glowing embers in the pit. Selecting a piece of wood from the nearby pile, I placed it in the hole and used a stick to position the section of branch. Pops and hisses broke the silence as the flames licked the fresh fuel.
“I vote that next time we find a house or even a barn,” Jordan said with a sigh. “Heck, I’d even take a dog house over this right now.” He shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself.
“No joke.” I scooted closer and draped my arm around his back. He slipped an arm around me, and we leaned in for warmth.
“I just want this to be over. I’m so done with it,” Jordan sighed.
“Me, too.” It may have been the stress of being out in the open and more vulnerable, or perhaps the fact that we were wearing down, but I understood exactly what my friend meant. I was so tired.
“You know, sometimes I just can’t stop thinking about my family and what could have happened to them. We may never know,” he continued. “I hate this crap, and I can’t stop wondering why.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I know.” I gave him a squeeze. “It makes no sense why anyone would develop such an evil thing, a chemical that would destroy so many lives.”
Jordan began picking up small shreds of bark and dead leaves, crunching them in his fingers and dropping them into the fire. “Man, my brothers and sisters used to get on my nerves so bad,” he said, “but you know what, Casey? I didn’t know how good we had it.” He brought his hand to his face and covered his eyes. I felt his shoulders heave. “Sometimes I feel like I’m gonna go crazy wondering what they might have gone through. Know what I mean?”
I hugged him. “I do, Jordan. I do.”
We sat for a long moment, saying nothing.<
br />
“Sometimes it helps me to think about the good times,” I said. “You know, focusing on the memories of when we were happy, rather than worrying about what I can’t control.” I poked the fire and rotated the wood to expose more of its unburned surface to the flames. “I remember the last time Harley came to my house, and you and Matt stopped by. It was that day Mom and Dad were both gone, and we cooked hotdogs on the grill.”
“Aww, I remember that.” Jordan chuckled. “I thought Matt was going to blow the place up.”
“Sheesh! The flames were huge!” I held my hand over my mouth to stifle my own laughter.
“And then Derek got all excited and had an asthma attack,” Jordan said, squinting at the fire. “I thought he was gonna die, and we were all going to jail or something.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t believe how he ran right for those weeds in that vacant lot next to your house and started eating them.”
“Yeah, I know. Derek always did that. Went after the same ones every time. They were those strange ones with the fuzzy leaves. I guess he liked the taste.”
“And when he ran to that treehouse in another neighbor’s yard, I thought we’d never get him down, and he was literally going to suffocate up there.”
We both erupted into uncontrollable giggles, the kind you get when you’re somewhere that you’re supposed to be serious but can’t stop laughing, like church. We both clapped our hands over our mouths to keep the noise down.
Once we both settled down, I looked at Jordan. “See? It helps.”
“Yeah, it does.” He looked into my eyes. “I don’t want to be here, but if I have to be, I’m glad it’s with you and Verna, and even Kyle.” He gave an embarrassed snicker. “I know I gave you a hard time about taking him in, but I understand, now, we had to. If we’d turned him away, we’d be no better than the ass clowns that developed this virus.” He tossed a few more bits of bark into the fire, sending up a small shower of sparks that dissipated in the air. “He’s not a bad guy, Casey.”
I punched his arm. “Stop it. I know what you’re doing.”
“Do you?” he asked, giving me a quick hug as he shifted onto his knees. “On that note, it’s past time for a shift change,” he said. “Gotta wake up soldier boy.”
“Goodnight, Jordan.”
I sat waiting for Kyle and listening to the sounds of them shuffling around behind me. It seemed unnaturally loud in the otherwise peaceful night.
Kyle sat down beside me and offered me a water bottle. I took it and drank. “Any news?” he asked, yawning.
“Yeah,” I answered. “Stocks are up, and the Olympics are on.”
He smiled. “Glad to see you seem to be in better spirits than earlier today.”
“I wouldn’t say better spirits. We’re still in a crappy situation, after all.”
“Right, but earlier, you just seemed off, somehow. You weren’t your usual vigilant self.” His smile turned more serious. “So, what happened? Why did you fall behind?”
I brushed my hair from my face and looked away.
“So, you don’t want to talk about it?”
“No, not really,” I answered. It was true. How could I tell Kyle what distracted me? If he knew I thought I might be seeing Harley’s spirit, would he think I’d lost my mind? In truth, I wondered that myself.
I felt his hand stroking my hair, “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever it was, if you don’t want to discuss it, I understand, but I can’t have you drifting away from us like that. Anything can happen. You know this.”
I shook my head. “Yes, I do.”
“We couldn’t stand to lose you.” I could feel him watching me and sensed he wasn’t going to let this go. “I couldn’t stand to lose you.”
His words hit me. Hard. I swallowed and stared past the reflected glow of the fire and into the night. I wanted, or at least I think I wanted, things to be different. Every fiber inside me wanted to turn back time to a place where none of this evil existed. Blissful unawareness. I had it once, but knew I couldn’t return to that phase in my life. There’d been so much loss that I feared I couldn’t stand another one. Becoming hard and cold to any feelings I might have would keep me safe. “I know, but we can’t,” I whispered. “We can’t get emotional. Not now.”
The look in his eyes triggered something inside me, making me instantly sorry. It seemed I’d hurt him in some way.
“I care about your safety, Casey. If you haven’t noticed…” he gestured toward Verna and Jordan’s soft snores, and then back to us, “we are the only people we have to count on right now. I’d say emotions come with the territory.” He attempted a smile, but it just looked brittle and sad. “Whether you like it or not, we’re stuck with each other, at least for now.”
My mind whirled with the kind of regret you get when you’ve said or done something that can’t be fixed. “Hey, I didn’t mean that I didn’t want you here. I just —.”
He held up a hand as if to say it was okay. “It is what it is, as they say. Regardless, just stay with the group from now on, or you could get…well, you know very well what you could get.”
I nodded. The point was made. We sat in quiet contemplation for several minutes as I muddled through my thoughts. Telling Kyle about what I thought I’d seen was a risk. Regardless of whatever might come, I realized I needed him to believe I was competent. Why this was important, I wasn’t sure. Being in charge and taking care of it all had become who I was inside. It was all I knew, but it was also a lonely place to be.
“Kyle, have you ever lost someone you cared about? Like, in a war zone?”
He looked surprised at my question. “Yes. More than once,” he answered, his tone somber. “Why do you ask?”
“How long did it take you to get over it?” I asked, avoiding his question.
He shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t think you ever get over it.” He brought his fist to his chin and clasped his lower lip in apparent thought. “It stays with you, at first, no matter what you do. You want to shake the pain, but then you also treasure it, because it’s all you have left of that person. Then, over time, it changes. Comes and goes.”
“Like the tides,” I said.
“Yes, with a power all its own.” He shifted and stretched his legs out beside the fire pit. “I don’t think it ever goes away, but you deal with it. Eventually.”
“It was Harley.”
Kyle cocked his head and looked at me through narrowed, questioning eyes.
“Not literally Harley,” I clarified. “We were walking along. I was looking through the trees and noticed the sun shining on the evening dew. The reflections were just about the color of her hair.”
Kyle gave an understanding nod. He absentmindedly picked up a stick and began digging at the ground. “That kind of thing happens. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too.” I shrugged. “I feel like I’ve been seeing it more and more lately, and I don’t know. It’s almost like it’s a sign, like she’s telling me she’s okay, wherever she is. The thing is, I know how crazy that sounds, and I wasn’t sure I should tell anyone. It’s embarrassing.”
Kyle repositioned himself again. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m pretty sure it happens to all of us when we lose someone we love. It’s understandable after what you went through.”
“I think about my foster brother, Derek, too.” Sharing this with Kyle left me with a strange feeling of relief, but also a vulnerability that made me uncomfortable. “Don’t mention it to Verna and Jordan, okay? I don’t want them thinking there’s something wrong with me.”
Kyle shook his head and gave a half-smile as he poked a stick into the burning embers. “Casey, I’m sure they’d think something was wrong with you if you just forgot about Derek and Harley. That would mean you had no normal feelings, wouldn’t it?” The fire crackled, and Kyle added another section of branch. “Talking about it may help, but sure, I’ll keep your secret if that’s what you want. You can count on me for that.” He opened his arms, with an expecta
nt gesture. “C’mon, it’s cold.”
I scooted closer and leaned against him. He draped his arm around my shoulders and held me close. The warmth growing between us worked its way into my skin and through my muscles, settling deep into my bones.
We waited out the rest of our watch in silence, listening for any sound that might signal an intruder, a zombie, or a wild animal that might threaten our safety. Feeding the fire pit as needed, I spent most of the time in deep thought, listening to Kyle’s breathing. It felt good being here with him, and yet, at the same time, his nearness awakened the yearning I usually struggled to keep in check. It was an ache I knew well, a profound need to belong somewhere, to someone, and to have some semblance of normalcy in this god-forsaken world.
I breathed deep and closed my eyes, willing myself to pretend, if only for a few hours, that I was home here with Kyle, and everything was okay. We sat that way, just us and the stars, as the dusk broke with the first rays of sunlight peeking above the eastern horizon.
Chapter 5
Casey
I shivered in the morning mist that coated everything. My arms, my face, and even my clothes felt damp and clammy, even though Kyle and I had huddled beside the fire pit for the last few hours. The meager warmth did little against the overwhelming force of seasonal change. We had to find more suitable clothing if we were going to make it through this without hypothermia setting in or someone catching pneumonia.
A heavy ache had set in across my cheekbones and, deep inside, my ears felt full and itchy. I began to doubt that we would be able to continue this trip on foot without knowing we could find shelter at night along the route. It was only a matter of time before the rain, sleet, or snow became a factor. The rest of our crew began stirring in the early morning half-light, and the stuffiness in my ears deadened the sound of their movements. I suspected Verna and Jordan woke up, not because they were rested, but because they were in pain from sleeping on the hard, packed soil. Even with the moisture barrier provided by the flattened packs, the cold would have worked its way through the material and chilled their bodies to the core.
The Viral Series (Book 2): Viral Storm Page 7