Donny gave him time for the blood lust to calm, then dropped to a knee, rubbing Yewan behind the ears. The big cat leaned into him and boy and beast reveled in the glory of their first kills. He bled and gutted them so they’d be easier to carry then shouldered the first one to haul it to the back gate and the golf cart waiting for him there.
He pulled up near the campfire where the other kids sat assembled with some of the animals and felt himself swelling with pride as they gathered around the back of the cart, congratulating him and Yewan on their hunt. Otis shuffled up cautiously, giant nostrils overwhelmed by the smell of fresh meat. Donny stroked Yewan who was growling a warning to the big bear. Otis ignored him as he continued his inspection, his mouth watering at the delicious smell of something other than dog food or a tiny rabbit.
They decided it would probably be best to get the fresh meat away from the animals before they started fighting over it and hurried it over to the storehouse. They strung them from the ceiling and chose the one Yewan had chewed up for the animals. With saws and hatchets, they carved it up and carried chunks of the still warm meat to their companions. The wolves and the bears tore into it hungrily as Cody carved off slices for the foxes they kept penned up at night to keep them from being too tempted by the chickens.
Swan watched, battling her feelings about hunting innocent animals and couldn’t help but feel slightly repulsed by what Donny had done. She had felt the anticipation and trembling of Lucy and Zero when he’d first pulled up though and realized how much they needed the meat, especially Lucy to feed the cubs growing inside of her. They couldn’t keep eating dog food. The world had changed and if she wanted to live, she had to change with it. She had to put aside yesterday’s thinking that killing any animal for any reason was wrong. Those were childish thoughts; she was part of a pack now and it would be getting bigger soon. Her wolves still couldn’t hunt, still couldn’t take care of themselves and it was her fault. They needed her to teach them like Donny had taught Yewan.
Donny sensed her watching him and turned to meet her stare.
“Teach me to hunt,” she said, “so I can feed my pack.”
He nodded once. She turned away and went back to her wolves.
It was cool enough so the meat wouldn’t spoil, it was already dropping down below freezing some nights. Tomorrow they could break out the books, follow the directions and carve the other deer properly so they didn’t waste any of it.
After the others left the storehouse Donny cut the heart loose and carried it out to the campfire. The deer kills meant something big and they knew it. They had entered a new phase in their lives. They wouldn’t be reliant on fish and the occasional rabbit. They wouldn’t have to butcher their goats to survive the winter if a horde moved in and they couldn’t get to town. He held it up for all of them to see then sank his teeth into it and tore off a small piece. He swallowed it down before he lost his nerve and gave the rest to the big panther standing at his side.
They wanted to cheer and clap to honor their hunter and the first kill but that wasn’t appropriate, they’d learned to stay quiet and not make unnecessary noise. Cody pulled his Warhammer from its sheath and held it high in the air. The others followed suit with their spears and tomahawks, Gordon holding his machete aloft along with the rest. Donny smiled and bowed slightly to them. He wiped the blood from his chin, picked up his own spear and left the warm glow of the fire. Yewan followed him silently on padded feet and the pair disappeared into the night.
Gordon watched the others and sat back down when they did. He’d learned to try to blend in, to pretend he didn’t hate it here, that they were all crazy to spend so much time with wild animals. These kids weren’t right in the head, he’d decided. After a few weeks, Cody had said he’d throw him out of the park if he didn’t stop complaining and start doing his share of the work. They’d do it to. He believed him. He wasn’t afraid of them, not really, he had his machetes. He didn’t trust them not to sic one of their bears on him though. Or those wolves of Swans. He hated them and they never missed a chance to growl at him if he came too close. They’d be happy to tear into him.
20
Swan
Like Donny, Swan had also abandoned the house for the comfort of the pack on the warmer nights. Nestled beneath her blankets, cuddled with the wolves, she would stare at the sky, wandering if her Mom and Dad were still out there. Maybe they had found sanctuary.
As the days passed and the chill November winds blew in, she moved back into the house. This time the wolves came with her. Lucy was preparing for the birth of her cubs; her natural instincts had her hunting for a protected spot and Swan built her a den in the corner of the unused office.
Swan sat with Lucy’s head in her lap, the first-time mother panting with the exertion of giving birth. Zero approached, submissive in his posture and lowered his head to lick her muzzle. Lucy growled at her mate to keep his distance. Cowed, Zero backed away but kept watch over her and the soon to be born cubs.
The first pup came minutes later, followed by two more. Swan cried at the sight of their tiny, mewling bodies. They were so helpless with their eyes still closed and their legs moving in uncoordinated ways. Her pack was growing. She swelled with pride and stroked Lucy’s head.
Lucy pulled away and began licking her cubs. Cleaning them and forming the emotional and physical bond that let them know she was their mother. The puppies whimpered, blind and helpless as she guided each of them to her nipples so that they could take their first meal. Swan was in love with them already and began thinking of names. River, Valley, and Meadow, she decided for the two males and the female greedily suckling their mother.
The other children gathered at the door, anxious to meet the new arrivals. All but Gordon, he knew better. He took advantage of a rare opportunity when everyone was preoccupied gushing over the babies and hurried into the kitchen. The creepy twins were in charge of the cooking and they were stingy with the food, especially the good stuff. He opened the pantry and pulled out a handful of Twinkies, making sure he closed everything back up before sneaking them up to his room. He had the only one that locked and that’s why he’d chosen it. He found the key hanging on a rack in the kitchen but now he wore it around his neck.
Swan finally shooed them out of the room to give the new parents some time to themselves and joined the rest as they gathered around the fireplace in the living room. The babble was excited and Murray was skimming through his eBooks, trying to find out about polar bears and if they would be having any babies soon. Swan ran her fingers through her black hair. It was wild and growing longer than she’d ever worn it. She’d never been fashion conscious, preferring loose baggy clothing that hid her developing body and maintenance free hairstyles, usually opting for a braid or a ponytail. She had an idea for it but would need Annalise help her pull it off.
Swan had been hunting with Donny twice so far but had been unsuccessful in her efforts taking anything larger than rabbits or squirrels. The wolves hunted differently than the panther, preferring speed over stealth to take prey. She found lying-in ambush to be boring, the wolves hunted by sight and smell, preferring to run their game down. She couldn’t sit still and quiet for hours barely moving a muscle. That was Donny’s way of hunting but it didn’t work for her.
She needed to learn the bow and arrow but she still struggled with the one Tobias had taken from the sports store. He had given up on it when he found it too hard to pull. It was all he could do to cock it and lock an arrow, his skinny arms trembled with the effort. He abandoned it and once she decided she was going to learn to hunt, she’d been working with it. With Murrays help, they changed the settings so the compound bow was easier for her to pull. She did pushups to build her strength and practically ran everywhere she went, also wearing her armored pads, developing muscles that would help her in pursuit of the fleet footed game they pursued. She couldn’t let her wolves run down game like they would in the wild, though. She couldn’t keep up; they might travel thirty mi
les without tiring and they could run twenty miles an hour. She didn’t feel safe that far from the Park, there were hordes of undead roaming around. She needed to get better with the bow, it would let her bring down bigger game like the deer that were in abundance. Gordon had said they were stupid for not using guns. He said it would make life so much easier. She agreed with Cody, though. There were a hundred undead at the front gate trying to get in. It was solid steel and the fences at the front of the park were the best and strongest, a reassuring sight for the tourists. In the back of the park, where they would be shooting, the fences were old and rusty. They were only there to keep the gazelle inside and if they attracted a huge horde of the undead with gunfire, they could probably tear right through it.
Swan had a pair of tomahawks she’d taken from the sporting goods store. A sharp blade on the front edge and a spike on the back gave her a double opportunity at landing a fatal blow. She’d picked them up because she thought they looked cool and it was a weapon her ancestors had carried. She’d learned how to be deadly with them though. At first, she hurled them at the barn door, her aim wild and all over the place. Once she learned how to make them stick every time, she moved to smaller targets. There was a science behind the skill, the hatchet rotated as it was thrown. You just had to be the right distance so it had time to spin and hit the target with the head and not the handle. Once she figured that out, it was no harder to learn to hit the bullseye than it was throwing a basketball through a hoop. Now, after a month of practicing hours every day, she could hit a fence post from thirty feet in a full sprint. She got better every day and could kill a scampering squirrel with the lethal steel most of the time. Her wolves were eating better and on a good day, there were a few extra for the twins’ stewpot.
21
Kerry
Time had passed slowly for the first few days when he hadn’t come back, each minute dragged on for hours. He’d given her very specific instructions and she promised she would do them. If he didn’t return, she had to run. She had to take the kids and go. They’d die here if she didn’t.
Don’t come looking for me because we both know what it means if I’m not back in a few hours. But don’t worry he’d added. I’ll be careful. I’ll be back. Really, it’s no big deal, I know how to deal with those things.
They were down to the last bag of dog food. Chris had skipped over the Alpo and Old Yeller when he was looking in the neighbors houses for food but she didn’t. It wasn’t so bad when softened with water and cooked with eggs. The children had long since stopped complaining about the food, they would happily eat a can of spinach if it would take away the empty ache in their stomachs. They asked about Chris for a day or two but finally stopped. She had forced a smile and told them a lie none of them believed.
“Daddy will be home soon. He’s fine.”
She dozed fitfully in the chair, keeping a vigil every night, feeling the ache of loss deep inside her. Her tears were quiet and when the sun rose, she knew her wait was over. There was frost on the ground. It had been weeks; he was gone and they were dying. There was nothing left to eat and winter was coming. If they didn’t go now, they never would. Chris had put a fresh battery in her minivan, stolen from Mr. Hardy’s big Kubota tractor, and had filled it with siphoned gas
“Just in case.” he’d said when he kissed her goodbye. “But don’t worry. I’ll be back before you know it and we’ll be having spam steaks for dinner.”
There was nothing for breakfast but the kids wouldn’t complain. They had aged a hundred years in the past few months.
“Hey guys, I need you to gather up your backpacks.” She said as she woke them. “We’ve got to leave. We’re going to Lakota.”
They didn’t ask about Chris and she didn’t say anything about her plan. She knew it was a long shot, knew she wouldn’t find him, but she had to try. She had to at least look. Just a quick drive by of the grocery store, it wasn’t really out of the way.
She led them into the garage. She’d packed the van with the few supplies she had which was only their clothes, some blankets and a gun. She was stoic and kept her eyes dry. She couldn’t show them fear and she couldn’t succumb to it herself. If she started crying, she might never stop. They had seven hundred miles to cover in a minivan long overdue to be traded in for something newer. She would have to find gas but she knew how to siphon, Chris had shown her. They’d be okay. They had to be. There was no other choice. They loaded quickly and strapped in. She had known this day would come and had been preparing. She’d blacked out the back windows to protect the kids from seeing any of the horrors they might encounter on the road. She made sure they had their ear buds in and switched on the DVD player in the headrest. Something to occupy their minds, distract them and keep them from looking around and asking questions. She had no allusions of battling a horde of zombies, fighting valiantly and overcoming overwhelming odds. She would try, she would do everything she could to make it to Lakota but if she couldn’t, if they got surrounded, she had an option. She double checked the load in the gun Chris had brought home from one of their neighbors. Six bullets rested in the chamber, enough to do the job. Enough so they wouldn’t have to become one of those screaming undead things.
She sat facing the garage door and thought about Chris one last time. This trip was supposed to happen in the truck, the one he’d armored up and had extra gas cans in the bed. The one he’d taken into town for a quick supply run. I just need to test it out before we hit the road, you know, run down some zombies so I know it works. If the town’s empty, I’ll grab some food from the supermarket. If not, I’ll come right back. No worries.
They should have stayed together, tested out the truck along the way and made the trip on an empty stomach.
Steeling herself, she hit the key, not a hundred percent sure it would fire up until it did. Please, she prayed. Don’t let me down this time. It had given her problems; it had been in the shop twice this year but there never seemed to be enough money to fix it right. They could only afford one car payment at a time and there had been two more years on the truck before it was her turn for something new.
She hopped out, double checked through the little windows to ensure nothing was around and slid the door open.
She dropped the van in gear and didn’t bother to close the garage door. She’d never be returning. To come back was slow death by starvation.
The van protested and shuddered for a few minutes before it smoothed out and started running right. It was the first time it had been started in months. As she eased out of the subdivision, she passed wrecked cars and open doors in the houses. Curtains flapped in broken windows and long dead bodies were on overgrown lawns and driveways. The GPS was already programmed for Lakota, she followed the mechanical voices instructions, driving around abandoned cars and checked the gauges. Three hundred sixty-four miles until empty. That would put her past Des Moines and out in the middle of nowhere. It would be an easy place to find food and siphon gas.
She turned south as she exited the Rolling Hills estates and gripped the wheel tightly. There was no traffic at all. No kids playing on swing sets. Nobody mowing their lawn. No one working in their garden. She hadn’t expected to see people but the stillness of everything was disturbing. Leaves covered the road and one set of tire marks was still barely visible in places.
She was following Chris’ path.
Occasionally she saw a car in the ditch or just pulled to the side with the door standing open. In one of them someone was still moving, struggling to get out. It was half eaten by something and the seatbelt held it in place. Its empty eye holes tracked her as it reached out in desperate hunger, its jaws snapping open and closed. She shuddered and sped up. She would be in Putnam in a few more miles and at least she would know what happened to him. The truck would be easy to spot.
What if she saw him all ripped up and gnashing his teeth at her like that thing back there? Her mind was awash in uncertainty. No, she told herself. He had the carpet coat. He’
d killed those things before, he’d had to put a few down when he was raiding the nearby houses. He could be safe. He could be trapped on a roof or something. He could be waiting on her to come rescue him. She blinked the tears out of her eyes and ground her teeth. She could see his tracks cutting through the downed branches, leaves and pine needles. He might be there she told herself. There was a chance, stranger things have happened. She smiled a little, almost convincing herself it might be true. The van thumped and the wheel jerked hard towards the ditch.
Everyone screamed as she twisted it back on the road, barely avoiding an abandoned car. The van careened wildly for a moment as she sawed the wheel back and forth, over correcting and sliding on the damp leaves every time. Steam was hissing from the radiator and she almost started screaming in frustration as she brought it to a halt. She sat there for a moment frozen with indecision, not knowing what to do. Putnam was only few miles away, they were close. The van would make it to the grocery store and the truck. She had the spare key on her ring, the battery had to still be good and it was fueled up and ready to go. Maybe Chris was still there and he’d be waving from the rooftop. She could save him and they’d be on their way.
It could happen.
It could be like that.
She calmed herself, hushed the kid and opened the door. She had a plan. She must have hit one of those branches in the road. She’d make sure it was clear then they’d be on their way. She stepped out then screamed as cold hands snaked out from under the van and rancid teeth sank into her calf. She jerked away and the upper half of a rotten zombie came with her, fingers sunk deep into skin and its jaws open wide for another bite. Kerry danced and jumped but the thing kept biting, kept climbing up her leg with inhuman fingers as liquefying intestines were pulled out and stretched along the road, it’s bottom half still jammed under the van.
Animals Page 13