Chris falls silent.
Karen gives him a minute before saying anything to bring him back to the present.
"Chris?" She touches his hand, holds the picture out to him.
He takes it and stares at it. He continues speaking as if he'd never stopped. "I remember the day they took this. My sister and I and my cousin..." He stops to think a second and her name pops into his head. He can't believe he'd forgotten her name. She was between him and his sister in age. And she was the second to die after his aunt.
"Connie...her name was, Connie." Lost in thought, he continues to speak as if in a dream. "Before my aunt died, before she was bitten, every one of them acted as if we were all on vacation...they treated it like an adventure, told us we'd live off the land for a bit, build a home, grow our own food. They acted as if they were having the time of their lives."
Chris continues thumbing through the journal. There are more pictures—a dozen in all. As he looks at them, he passes them to Karen who passes them to Zak. "But I knew, even then...I was the youngest of us, but I knew they were acting. They were putting on a show but at night, I heard them talking...I heard my aunt crying at night. My mom too."
He shakes his head, his eyes clear, and he focuses on Karen. "I'll never put you through anything like that."
Karen can't help herself, she lunges toward him and kisses him quickly, then hugs him so tight he's afraid she'll never let go.
He gently pushes her away and reaches for the shovel. "I'm embarrassing myself in front of our new friend and I want to get through these before the sun sets." He turns to Zak. "You interested in giving us a hand?"
"You bet," Zak says, smiling. "I haven't been this entertained in a long time."
Chris hands him Karen's shovel. "Okay, we dig, Karen can pull out whatever we find, and we'll go through it all at once."
11
In a world that’s already strange, Chris never believed it could top itself. A world full of dead people walking around eating the flesh of the living; finding out your father was a big reason, if not the reason, for the state of the world; unearthing the graves of said father because there are no bodies there, but clues to the past; and now this young boy, who can't be a day over thirteen, surviving on his own, approaches them out of nowhere and is now digging right beside them. Strange is too weak a word for it all—it's outlandish. And he hasn't even added his father's actions at Homestead to this mental list.
"So, Zak...do you belong to a larger group?" If there was anything that might frighten Chris, its being led into a trap by someone seemingly so friendly. He wanted to believe Zak was genuine, but he couldn't not be a little skeptical. Zak doesn't answer right away, so Chris pauses digging to glance at the younger man. Thirteen might even push it, he thinks.
Zak is little. Chris thought Karen was small—Zak takes the prize. His thin structure is not strong—Chris can see that as he struggles to dig. The shovels don't even hold much in the way of dirt, but the constant repetition seems to wear on Zak.
"Here," Chris says, holding out his empty hand. "Why don't you and Karen switch for a bit?"
Zak hands the shovel over without hesitation. He's breathing heavily, as if he has a huge weight on his chest.
"Thanks," he says.
"Are you okay," Karen asks, concerned.
Zak nods. "I get winded easily, that's all." He takes a couple of deep breaths and continues, "I can run like the wind, but I can't do manual labor for very long...my chest gets tight when I do."
"Why didn't you mention that before I asked you to help?"
"Because I wanted to."
Karen puts a hand on his shoulder. "We're glad you did." She cuts her eyes to Chris, giving him a mental warning not to press the issue. Apparently, she realizes something about him that Chris doesn't. "We're almost done here...why don’t you take a breather."
Zak falls back onto his ass and crosses his legs with a sigh of relief.
There's only one grave left to dig, but as Karen moves toward it, he stops her. "Not that one...that actually is a grave."
She looks at him curiously, but then the answer comes. "Your dad?"
He nods. Of all the graves, only three had any contents buried. It's the last one, the one he's finishing now, that has him the most curious. He scrapes dirt from a familiar-looking box. It's the exact same color and style as the box he found beneath the tree on Homestead. Somehow, even without opening it, he knows it contains more of his father's belongings. Once its free, he pulls it from the hole and sets it next to the others.
The second box contains mainly clothing and nothing of importance—at least, not to Chris.
"I wonder why your dad hid all this away. If he didn't want it, why not burn it or toss it into the river?"
"I'm not sure," Chris responds, reaching the bottom of the second box, finding nothing other than old clothing.
Zak grabs a multi-hued green shirt with the picture of a comic-looking beaver on the front. "Can I have this?" he asks, holding the shirt to his chest to check its size. By the looks of it, the shirt will swallow him whole.
"Sure," Chris says, tossing what's left back in the box and moving it aside. He drags the red one closer.
He pauses, hands resting on the lid but not opening it.
Zak moves uncomfortably in the silence.
Chris opens the lid.
* * *
Karen has the same feelings about Zak as Chris—she just doesn't know it as they've had no time to compare notes since his arrival. He seems like a nice enough kid, but in this world, you can't automatically trust everyone that comes your way. She discovered that hard truth with the events that transpired with Harvey back in Martinville. Her grandfather trusted him and months later, that trust was broken. It didn't matter if there was something mentally wrong with Harvey—her grandfather taught her, always be wary of strangers. He threw that lesson out of the window and it got him killed.
She's not opposed to gaining friends and allies, but to trust unconditionally is insane. There's so much she didn't learn by being so isolated, but there are still things that she did learn and can translate to the outside world—things that will keep her and Chris alive.
But even so, can she suspect someone so young to have ill will toward them?
Chris kneels before the last box. His fingers brush away some dirt and then go back to the lid's edge. "This may sound strange, but I'm afraid to open it."
Trying to be helpful, Karen reaches toward the box. "Want me to do it?"
He waves her off. "No, just give me another minute."
What feels like several minutes pass and finally, he snaps the brittle plastic lid off the box, cracking it in the process. Several triangular pieces fall away, leaving gaping holes.
Karen knew there was something substantial, something heavy, in this box—grunting, Chris had to strain to get it out of the shallow grave and once Chris removed the lid to expose the contents, she could see why—binders, loose papers, magazines, and what looked like technical journals filled the box from bottom to top. Everything they pulled out had the same emblem on the front: and eagle and a flag bordered two lines that wove in and out of one another. Surrounding these were leaves with stars. At the top and bottom of the emblem were banners. The top one curved down, disappearing into the line of leaves—the words, United States was written inside it. The bottom banner did the same but angled upward. Written inside was a single word—Laboratories.
Karen remembers the magazine her grandfather had shown Chris—the one with the blurry image of Chris's family getting into a vehicle as if they were in a hurry. "United States Laboratories...that's where your dad worked."
She grabs a manual and begins flipping through it. Zak does the same. Much of what she sees is a mixture of letters and numbers arranged in ways she's never seen before. She doesn't understand one bit of it.
Zak tosses a binder back onto the stack. "That's all foreign to me."
"Me too," Chris admits, closing one book and g
rabbing a grey binder from the right-hand side of the box. Something beneath it catches his eyes. He pulls it up and lets it hang from his hand for the Karen and Zak to see.
"What's that," Zak asks.
"Looks like a necklace with some sort of identification badge attached." Karen reaches out and fingers the rectangular piece of plastic, turning it so she can see the front. "Is that your dad?" she asks, indicating the small photograph a little larger than her thumb.
"Yeah," Chris says, taking it back and studying the image. "It is."
* * *
The same emblem takes up most of the badge. Below the image of his father is his name and the department in which he worked—Advanced R&D-Viral Genetics.
"Viral Genetics? What does that mean?" Zak asks.
Chris shares a look with Karen then switches to Zak. Stalling, he asks what he'd posed earlier—the question Zak hadn't answered yet. "I asked earlier if you were a part of a larger group."
"Not anymore," he answers after a brief pause. Chris can't help but feel Zak is just as wary about them as they are of him—as it should be. Knowing this puts Chris more at ease. The fact Zak feels the same way means they might all just be playing for the same team. What team that is, Chris has no idea. He really has no basis for comparison. He only kills the Tainted if he can help it. Does that make him a good person or a bad one? If another Harvey comes along, would he take him out immediately or wait for the cards to be shown. Waiting could spell the death of him and Karen.
"Not anymore?" Karen asks. "What does that mean?"
Zak won't meet their eyes—instead, he talks to his hands as they fumble with contents of another binder. "I was once with a group called the Highwaymen. They raised me after..." He grows silent before pushing on. "I never knew my parents. They died near the beginning of all this. I was so young that I don't remember what it was like before, so the Highwaymen raised me as a group. They were good people at first...but over the last couple of years they've..."
His mouth snaps shut. Closing the binder, he lifts his head but still won't look directly at either of them; he presses on. "Over the last couple of years, they've turned...dark."
"Dark?" Karen asks quietly, using that single word to coax him into continuing.
He nods. "That's the only way I can describe it. They started doing things that they'd never done before. Instead of helping the people they come across, they started taking them by force and locking them up. They were so desperate for food I think..."
Karen gasps.
"They ate them?" Chris asks, but it wasn't really a question more than a confirmation of fact.
Zak nods. "That's when I left."
"They just let you leave?" Karen presses—she's obviously finding this hard to believe.
"No...not really. I was one of the better Gatherers."
"Gatherers?" Chris asks.
"Scavenger," he tries to explain. "I was part of the group that gathered food and provisions from nearby towns. I'm also good at gardening...my gardens provide most of the vegetables for the Highwaymen."
Chris knows where this is going. "So, they let you go as long as you continued to provide food for them?"
Zak nods again. "I figured, why not...I don't need much to survive. Since I'm by myself, there's really no need for me to hoard food, so I give them what I can and they pretty much leave me alone."
A note of concern etched in her voice, Karen asks, "Are there any Highwaymen around here?"
Zak shakes his head. "They mostly stay north of Carson's Crossing. The Gatherers are the only ones that usually come to town for my supplies."
"Usually," Chris asks.
"Usually," Zak confirms.
Chris hears the undertones in his voice. Sometimes it's not the Gatherers.
"You know the overpass over the major roadway you passed the other day? The Highwaymen built that."
"Why'd they leave?" This from Karen.
"They wanted someplace more central...someplace bigger and more secure."
Chris chuckles. "That one looked pretty secure to me."
Zak shakes his head. "You think that was impressive? You haven't seen anything. Their main complex is ten times that size. The inside is a maze that only a Highwayman can maneuver. If they ever catch you, don't expect to ever get out again."
His words remain heavy in the air and the group sits in silence.
After a minute, Chris announces, "I think it's time we get back. We're going to lose daylight if we don't go now."
"What about all this?" Karen asks, waving at the boxes and their contents.
While Chris went through the boxes, he'd set a few items to the side. He places his hand on the small stack. "I'm keeping these...the rest we'll bury."
They make quick work of it and while Chris puts the stack of items into his pack, Zak asks again, "What does all this mean? Why dig all this up and how the hell did you even know there weren't bodies buried here?"
Chris closes the pack and shrugs into it, checking over his shoulders to make sure his machetes hadn't shifted. "I'll tell you what, let's get on the trail back to Carson's Crossing and I'll explain everything."
Karen glances at him, a look of worry on her face. Chris nods to her and silently mouths. "It's okay."
And it is okay. He refuses to allow his father's actions to define him. If Zak judges him based on what his father did, then that's Zak's problem.
Chris shrugs, trying to get the backpack to sit a little squarer on his shoulders. The added weight is no problem now, but he's certain he'll be feeling it by the time they get to town.
As they set off up the trail, he begins to speak, answering all of Zak's questions without hesitation. Why? Chris doesn't know. He just has this feeling that Zak will be important for his and Karen's future. He hopes to recruit Zak as a guide—to lead them away from and help them avoid the Highwaymen.
And if he won't agree to that, maybe Zak will give them all the Highwaymen's secrets—that will, at least, give them a chance to go north to the city.
He wonders how he'll broach the subject with Karen.
The city.
Despite many warnings and common sense, he's still not quite decided on his next course of action, but just like coming back to the graves, he feels there's more chapters to his past to a close. If Quincy hadn't given him that glimpse into the past, he wouldn't be here right now. He and Karen would probably be half-way to the mountains with Poker Jack and Cowboy.
Now, the city. It pulls to him now, drawing him there to see the very spot all this began.
* * *
Back in Carson’s Crossing, he opens one of the binders, thumbing to the first title page: Employee Handbook - Eye's Only.
Eye's Only—that means this book was never supposed to see the light of day outside his father's lab. Everything is right here. The address, the floor where he worked—even the passcodes to secure areas within the building. These were probably something his father should have kept secret, but he wrote every one of them down in the book. Chris is certain it didn't happen while he was still there, but something he did after leaving.
But why?
Why write them all down if you were never going back? Chris hopes he'll find those answers within these pages—or in the pages of the other two binders he saved. Of everything they found, these three binders were the only ones in which his father wrote. And by write, there were pages of pages of notes. Paragraphs written between lines of printed type—as if his father was literally wanting someone to read between the lines.
What does it all mean, though? Chris isn't sure. Most of it reminded him of the books of formulas they left behind—just a jumbled mix of numbers, letters, and other symbols Chris had never seen before. It's definitely going to take someone with a lot more knowledge about those things to decipher it all.
And that's why he feels he needs to go to the city—to the very place it all started. It's a one-in-a-million shot, but maybe, just maybe, there's someone still around there who can help.<
br />
Now, if he can just convince Karen. She doesn't have to go, but he'd like it if she did. It's a risk though, and despite his feelings for her, he can't force her to go—it must be her decision.
A knock at the door startles him. He'd been so deep in thought he never heard Zak's boots on the front porch.
"Hey," he says, motioning Zak inside. "What's up?"
Zak opens the screen door and joins Chris at the table. He looks around and asks, "Where's Karen?"
Chris shrugs toward the rear of the house. "Lying down...she wasn't feeling very well this morning."
Zak says, "Good," then fumbles, "I mean...not good that she's sick...good that she's here."
Chris laughs. "It's okay...I know what you meant." He closes the binder and pushes it away, leans back, asks, "What's up?"
"I came to let you know; you both might better stay indoors the next couple of days. The Gatherers are due any time now to get supplies for the Highwaymen. I could introduce you and they might not do anything, but I can't guarantee it. It's just probably better that you and Karen stay hidden."
"I understand. If even half of what you've told us is true, then I don't want any part of them."
"Good," Zak says, smiling as he stands to leave. "Well, got to go finish putting everything together. Just so you know, we meet at an old grocery store on the northern side of town. If you can stay inside, that would be best, but if you do venture out, stay to the south...they rarely venture into town."
"Thanks. I'll let Karen know."
"I'll check back in with you later."
Zak opens the front door, but Chris stops him. "Zak?"
The younger boy turns toward him. "Yeah?"
"Is there a library in town?"
Zak's brows furrow. "What's a library?"
Tainted Souls Page 6
