Almawt Virus Series (Book 3): Days Since...Jenny [Day 986]

by Wilson, Robert

  “Got it.”

  “Jenny... That's a lot of meat. No pressure, but don't fuck it up.”

  “Thanks...”

  “You got this,” Matt whispered to her. “You got this.”

  Taking several exaggerated breaths, she mustered a calm demeanor, her nerves, her breathing now in a more suitable state. Jenny placed the rifle atop the rucksack and pulled the buttstock into the nook of her shoulder as she was taught. I do got this... The rifle creased her cheek. One eye shut, the other viewing through the scope. The crosshairs danced across the deer's chest. Steady. Come on. She braced the rifle tighter—her aim traced a slow, inconsequential figure eight over the beast.

  Oblivious to their intentions, the doe's head remained down, switching between the salt lick and the fallen trees, nibbling at the moss. Jenny emptied her lungs. Consistent. Stay consistent. Her index finger slid from along the stock and onto the trigger. She kept her grip on the forestock loose, allowing the rucksack to serve its purpose. Her mind began to wander as she studied the beast.

  I've never taken a life. I've never really even pointed a gun at another living thing. The muzzle continued to sway across the doe's chest. You always wonder if you could. All this training. Now, I've got to, right? Right? She could feel her companions’ eyes on her, more than likely wondering what the hell she was thinking.

  What is taking me so long? Okay... Here we go. One more swoop, then I go.

  But before she could, Sherman whined and the deer reacted, popping its head upright. The abrupt change in the beast's demeanor startled Jenny. Her finger jerked. The rifle went off. Sharply, the doe's front legs buckled, almost collapsing before she gathered her footing and tore off in between the trees.

  “I think you got it!” Matt shouted.

  Jenny clambered to her feet, throwing the rifle's sling over her head and gave chase. Matt tore off after her. They had only managed twenty yards before Danny called them back. Their faces turned, both twisted with disbelief. “What? Why?” Jenny asked. “We've got to hurry!”

  “Hurry for what?” Danny said, hefting his ruck onto his back.

  What now? Frustrated, Jenny threw her head back. Even from this distance, she could see Danny's face—his smug look of knowing better than she did. She shouted back, “I shot it! Let me finish what I started!”

  “Settle down, kid!” His tone somewhat demeaning. “That deer's gonna tire itself out and die. All we have to do is follow that bright, red trail through the bright, white snow, and we'll get there. I think you two can handle that, but if you're so worried about losing her, remember, we have ol' Sherm here to sort it all out if we need him to.”

  “Alright...” Jenny rolled her gaze to Matt, his eyes affixed to hers. A proud grin on his face let her know he felt it too, sharing in this sense of accomplishment. “You did it,” he whispered. “I was nervous as shit, but you did it.”

  She nodded and spun back toward where the deer had been shot. And although she tried, Jenny was unable to keep from charging off—her eagerness, her excitement too much. It felt good. Different. With a tinge of authority, she stomped through the snow, the adrenaline still flowing through her body. A bit of her success filling her head with confidence. Wow. First time and I nailed it.

  They came to where the salt lick lay between the downed trees, and immediately, Jenny noticed the spatter of blood splashed across the fresh snow, the depressions where the doe had buckled against the ground. From behind, Matt embraced her in a full hug, lifting her feet off the ground. “You definitely got it!”

  “Alright, alright, act like you've done it before, ya goofballs.” Danny let the slack out from Sherman's lead to let him wander about and visit with a few trees. “Once he's finished, you need to take the lead. Get us to your kill.”

  Jenny studied the doe's hurried tracks into the woods—red drops intermingled with the path. This will be too easy now.

  “Oh, and I'm going to need my rifle back,” Danny reminded her. “Don't look so sour. You still have your pistol.” She handed the long gun back to him. “Thanks. Now, go on. Lead.”

  After a short track of only a quarter mile or so, Jenny came upon the body—the brown heap curled up near a stump. She rushed ahead, coming to the downed beast first.

  It lay there. Peaceful. Lifeless. Specks of white melted against her still, warm body. She stared at it. The deer's blank gaze was haunting—her black eyes filled with the void of death. Jenny's lips quivered however slight. She bit into them to suppress the urge to feel guilty or worse, cry. Look how sad it is. I didn't think it'd look like that.

  Danny would be there soon, standing beside her with judgment if he saw her in this remorseful state. It's just a deer. What if you have to shoot a person? What then? The world was tough, and she'd been pushing herself along to match it. It wasn't easy. She had always found happiness in life. This hardship was still very foreign to her.

  Matt and Danny's footsteps sounded behind her, and quickly, she produced a halfhearted smile. The likelihood of them believing it genuine was doubtful, but they didn't opine either way.

  “Great shot, kid.” Danny patted her on the shoulder. “Now what do you do?”

  Her head drew back in thought. “Well...” Jenny took a moment to further compose herself while she puzzled over the predicament. Circling round the doe, she bounced her attention from the body and the top of the hill. “I figured we'd just drag her back, right?”

  “Go ahead,” Danny offered with an almost mocking grin across his face, making no indication that he planned to include himself in this “we” she had mentioned.

  Now knowing she'd be alone in this effort, Jenny took to the deer's hind quarters and steadied her boots in the snow. She pulled, only managing to drag it an inch or two before she slipped and fell to the ground. Damn! It was heavy, much more than she would have guessed. Again, she tried, and again she found herself on her ass—her pants covered in snow—her legs quickly catching cold. What the hell? Come on!

  Only three more fruitless attempts before the last one left her sitting in the snow, exhausted.

  Matt chuckled but offered her a hand up. “Come on—”

  “She's got it,” Danny interrupted. “Let you finish what you started, right Jenny?”

  Jenny slapped Matt's hand away and stood. She glared at Danny, determined to move the damn deer on her own, despite her failed attempts thus far. He can be such a...

  With his arms crossed, Danny simply raised his eyebrows, waiting.

  Give it all you got, damn it. Again, she took the deer within her grip. Move, okay? Just move this time. She surged up, straightening her legs, lifting the deer from the snow. Heat filled her face. Beet red. A groan escaped her gut, and she released the deer—its backside fell exactly where it was before. Her chest pumped with shallow breaths as she hunched over, resting her hands upon her knees, light-headed.

  “You ready for some help now?” Danny asked.

  “Just—just a sec,” Jenny managed between breaths. “Gimme a sec. I’m not—not feeling well, but I’ll get it up there.”

  “Maybe it's time to take a step back now that you're—” Danny stopped himself.

  Jenny knitted her eyebrows and looked to him, nervous. How could he know? Her gaze didn't break from him.

  “She's what? What is—”

  “Nothing,” Jenny puffed, eyes still on Danny.

  “Seriously, what?” Matt's attention switched back and forth between their faces. “Shouldn't I know too?”

  Danny's expression went blank. He sat on the stump, taking himself from the awkward standstill, leaving Matt and Jenny to sort it out.

  She scoffed. “It's nothing, Matt, can you just help me with the deer?” Matt gave pause, glancing over to Danny. She rolled her eyes. You don't need permission to help me.

  Danny's silence seemed answer enough, so Matt sidestepped the deer and took hold of its front legs.

  “You going to tell me what's going on?” Matt asked.

  “Ther
e's nothing going on.”

  “Seems like there is...”

  “Are you helping me or not?”

  “I'm here aren't I?”

  Jenny bent down but was immediately flooded with another wave of dizziness. Her knees went to the snow. Her hands followed. “Hey!” Matt's words were garbled as if he were speaking underwater. “Jenny!” She tried to find him, but her head felt heavy—the trees were fading—blackness closing in from around her.

  “I...” Longer breaths, deeper. “I...”

  Thud!

  Chapter Four

  “Jenny...”

  She blinked several times through the soft glow of a lantern—her mind a haze—her eyes catching nothing but black and gray around her. Where am I?

  “Jenny, you okay?” A gentle hand came from the void and took hold of hers. She accepted it, not moving a muscle, not retreating from its warm touch. “You'll be up in no time, girlie.” The man gave her hand a squeeze. “Toughest little thing around here. I guess I can get away with sayin' it while you're sleepin'.” He let out a familiar chuckle. Jenny lolled her head toward the lantern. Her eyes adjusted to the light, revealing the dark figure the hand belonged to. “Thought maybe I'd get away with the compliment, but of course that's what wakes you up.”

  “Grant…” She groaned as his familiar face came into focus at her bedside. Is this my tent? Not completely certain of her circumstances, she asked him, “Where... Where am I?”

  He offered a weak smile. His hand still held hers, both resting on her stomach. “You're safe. All you're needin' to do is lay there.”

  “But...” Still weak, Jenny found forming her thoughts into words tedious. Instead, she heeded Grant's advice and relaxed, allowing her stiff body to sink further into the deck lounger she lay upon. She slipped her hand from underneath Grant's and ran a finger down the stitching of the cushion. A break in the seam. A rough spot. Yeah, this is definitely mine.

  Grant sat hunched forward in a metal folding chair, watching over her. Both of them silent, listening to the rolling of zippers, small scrapes, indistinct bangs from the other tents propped nearby in the middle of the Home Depot—this small community of convenience. A pit stop. Somewhere to hold them over until they could find something better—all she'd ever be able to think of it. Convenience...

  Here, in her assigned tent, it never felt like home. It felt empty, impersonal. Jenny relied on strangers’ homes to remember the past. Everything she had from before the virus, any personal item was locked away in River's Edge. Someday... My pictures. My keepsakes will be mine again. I just hope they'll still be there.

  Longing for reassurance, she crept her hand back to Grant's.

  “Damn, you're still freezin' cold, girlie.” Grant shook his hand, exaggerating his surprise. From beneath the small, patio table beside Jenny's lounger, he collected another blanket and floated it down across her. “This here'll be better for you. Need layers to help keep you insulated from that air.”

  Jenny nodded, prompting Grant to begin working along the cushion, tucking in the extra blanket. “No.” She took her hands from underneath. “Don't.”

  “Just tryin' to help you get comfortable.”

  “I know—” She coughed to clear her throat. “I know you are, but I don't need you to do that. I'm gonna get up here soon anyways.”

  “With what strength? Pretty sure if you try standin’ right here, you'd be tippin' back over into that little thing you call a bed.”

  “You think so?” she sneered before trying to wriggle her way out of her blankets.

  Grant snapped his head to the side, diverting his eyes. “Whoa-ho-ho. Cover up.” Her bare thigh had been exposed—the cool air bit into her skin. She drew back onto the lounger, and Grant desperately pushed the blanket to cover her. “Alright, alright. I hear you. You ain't gotta prove nothin' to me. I believe you.” He shook his head. “And just so you know, ain't nobody tryin' to see all what you got goin' on under there.”

  She scowled at him. It better have been Matt that undressed me. “You weren't the one that, well, you know...”

  “Hell no. Ain't no pervert. Not my type anyways.” Grant cracked a smile. “Too immature.”

  Jenny scowled at him again but managed a snicker once she realized he was only kidding. “You tease too much.”

  “Life's too serious to be serious anymore. Nobody knows what's gonna happen. I learned that lesson too many times now, and I don't want to be remembered as a damned fool for bein’ let down all those times. So, hell with it. I'll be serious when I need to be, but here in this tent, just you and me like this, I'm gonna cut up a bit. Why the hell not, right?”

  “Maybe inside here...” She took a cool breath in, reliving the gunshots at the house, feeling Matt's body press to hers, colliding once they hit the floor.

  “What's the matter, girlie? You look like you're about to break.” The wrinkles across his forehead scrunched. “Somethin' happen?”

  “They didn't tell you we got shot at?”

  Grant jolted from the folding chair. “What?! Who shot at you?!” The nylon floor of the tent crinkled under his pacing feet. “You see 'em? It wasn't them was it?” His side to side stopped, his face only inches from hers. “Was it?” Both hands trembled at his sides. “Don't even tell me it was them.”

  “No,” she whispered, trying to calm him, “it wasn't them.”

  “Why the hell didn't Danny tell me about this?” His voice remained loud.

  “Please.” She pressed a finger to her lips.

  “You right.” Grant listened for a moment, then began again with a whisper, “You sure it wasn't them?”

  Jenny nodded.

  “How you know?”

  “It wasn't. I've never seen them before, and Danny said the same.”

  “Well, why the hell they shoot at you? Was you in their territory or somethin'?”

  She closed her eyes, knowing she had misled him slightly. She hated being wrong. Apologies hurt. “Well”—she kept her eyes from his—“okay... So, they weren't exactly shooting at us, like directly. Danny saw them down the street, and we booked it into a house. After a little bit, they just started shooting.

  “Not sure what they were going after. None of us saw, but Danny doesn't think they even knew we were there. He thinks they were just kind of shooting for the hell of it. Maybe just passing through. Other than that, we couldn't come up with any other reason. We were in our usual area, doing what we do, not even close to anywhere we haven't been before, so I don't know who they are, what they were doing. But I know this much, when the shots went off, it—it felt like I was gonna piss myself.”

  “Jenny! Why you cussin' like that?”

  “Huh?” The abrupt change in his attention caught her off guard. “I—”

  “You ain't supposed to talk hard like that. Don't care how scared you were. I don't think I like you goin' out on those scouts like that anymore.”

  “Good thing you don't make that decision then,” she snapped back.

  “You think it's a good idea? Gettin' gunned down. Passin' out. How's that a good idea?”

  “I haven't been—I haven't been taking care of myself.” It felt as stupid as it sounded coming out.

  “And that's your excuse? That should be your reason not to go.”

  “You know I can't do that.”

  “Why?”

  I hate being here. This isn't my home. Never will be. Not after—

  “Well?”

  She simply stared at him.

  “Okay, Jenny... you're right, it ain’t my decision to make. And, I can't tell you what to do, but you need to think better on it before Danny comes talkin' with you.”

  “Why? What'd he say?”

  Grant wiped the spit from the corners of his mouth. “He can tell you. I ain't lookin' for a fight this evenin’.”

  Deep down, Jenny already knew Danny was considering the idea of leaving her off his team.

  “Look, a peace offerin', eat some of this here.” Grant
reached behind the lantern on the side table and lifted a bowl. “Maybe you'll think twice on killin' the messenger with some food in your belly.”

  Jenny said nothing.

  “Come on, you gotta eat.” Smiling, he brought it bedside and wafted its aroma toward her. “Come on,” he urged.

  I guess it does smell pretty good. “What is it?”

  “Dinner.”

  “I mean, what's in it?”

  “Just eat,” Grant said. Jenny propped the back of the lounger upright then reached for the bowl, but he kept it from her. “I didn't mean to get you all worked up.” His voice was gentle. He spooned a few morsels of stew, his tremors shaking the utensil as he brought it to her lips each time. She wiped a few dribbles from her chin before taking several more bites—its warmth filled her, bringing some needed comfort amongst the cold surrounding her.

  “Where's Matt and Danny?”

  “They were meetin' with the transport team to let them know what houses you hit.” Grant brought her the last bite of soup and put the bowl back. “Don't you worry about that meetin’. Told them I got you for now. Least I can do.”

  “I should be there with them in that meeting.”

  “Do yourself a favor and rest. It'll show Danny you're takin' this seriously. Might go a long way toward convincin' him you'll be ready to go in the mornin' if that's what you're feelin' you gotta do.” Grant lifted the lantern and set it to the floor before pulling a plastic bin from underneath her lounger. “Why don’t you read for a bit? Get your mind off things.” He popped the lid and passed her one of the books.

  “You really think it'll help things with Danny?”

  “Yep.” He nodded. “But beyond that, I'm thinkin' you need it anyways. You don't need to be rippin' and runnin' like that all the time.” His voice shifted to a more fatherly tone. “I’m not gonna lose one of you kiddos again. Never again, alright?” Jenny heard the guilt in his voice. The death of Xavier had wrecked him. His tremors more furious than ever, especially when he mentioned him. Or, anything related to River’s Edge for that matter. To be honest, there had been several times Jenny had to escape his guilt-ridden monologues. His depression was too much at times, blaming himself for what happened. There was no convincing him otherwise. Even though Xavier had made his choice, Grant felt he should have done more. Owed it to him. Owed it to his father.