ANYONE ELSE?: (ANYONE Series Book 2) A post-apocalypic survival novel

by Angela Scott

Richard pointed at his son. “You and Dale will come with me. The rest of you make yourselves comfortable.”

  Marco groaned and worked his way back to his feet. He mumbled under his breath as he gathered everyone’s water bottles and followed Richard and Dale off the path and down the slight incline. It didn’t take long for them to disappear from view, but Marco’s lack of grace kept his presence known as the sound of rocks rolled down the side. Branches and sticks snapped beneath each footstep.

  The other men removed packs. Some sat down to eat a snack. A couple of others went off to find a private tree to be one with nature.

  Dad stepped in front of me, his back to the others and kept his voice low. “I’d hoped they’d go on ahead without us, so we could go our separate ways. I guess we’ll have to figure something else out.”

  “We’re trying to break away right now?” Toby placed Callie on the ground but held her leash as she stretched her limbs and arched her back. “Why right now?”

  Yeah, why now? Not that I had any complaints about it — Marco was driving me nuts — but it seemed too soon to be going off on our own. We didn’t have a lot of supplies, not to mention that Richard had those old, but nifty, gadgets that let us know the air was sustainable and the soil nontoxic. I liked whenever they took a reading and nothing horrific had changed.

  Dad shook his head. “I just have a feeling that we should.”

  Chapter 5

  Dad knelt at the door of our tent and zipped the flap closed. He shimmied and shifted, careful to avoid kneeling on Toby or me, or sitting on Callie. For being so small, she took up more than her fair share of room in the tent — all stretched out and looking comfortable. He crawled his way between us and slipped into his sleeping bag.

  Three people, a cat, plus supplies, crammed into a two-man tent. Cozy.

  If it were winter, we might have welcomed the body heat to keep everyone warm. The late spring-early summer extra warmth wasn’t all that enjoyable, and because I had to use my backpack as a pillow, I felt a crick in my neck forming. I’d feel it in the morning for sure.

  I left my sleeping bag partly unzipped, laid my arms on the top, and stared at the canvas tent, thinking. So much to think about. Where were we going? Where were we headed? Would anything be there once we figured that out? More importantly, would anyone be there?

  And then there was Cole.

  No matter where my thoughts and worries took me, I always ended up thinking of him. Was he okay? Would I ever see him again? Did he miss me as much as I missed him? My biggest fear was never knowing.

  “How are you feeling?” Dad whispered, trying to avoid waking up Toby. His question pulled me from my mish-mash of thoughts. I was grateful to simply stop thinking for a minute. Nothing good ever came from over thinking.

  “I’m doing okay.” For the most part anyway, though I didn’t say that out loud.

  “Really?” His voice led me to believe he didn’t completely buy my answer.

  “I’m trying to be okay. Is that better?” No matter how many thoughts tumbled around inside my head, Dad had to be experiencing it ten times worse.

  “I’m worried about you.”

  I rolled my head to the side to look at him. “I’ll be okay. It only hurts when I walk and breathe.” Or think of Cole, but I didn’t say that out loud either. Instead, I smiled. “But I’m not sure if hurts because of everything I went through a month ago, or if walking and breathing is supposed to hurt when you hike a mountain. I never did like hiking.”

  “I know.” He nods. “I’m sorry, kiddo. If you need to walk slower, then so be it. I don’t care the reason. Who knows? Maybe Richard will get tired of us tagging along, slowing the group down, and decide to ditch us before we can ditch him? Wouldn’t that be good?” He reached across our small distance and brushed the hair off my forehead.

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know the right answer. Leaving sounded great, but we didn’t have enough supplies to be on our own. Richard saw to that, making us somewhat dependent on him. If we had clean water and animals to hunt, we could do it. Since none of those were a surety, leaving could prove fatal. We’d seen the video footage of one deer, but in the few days we’d been walking, we’d seen nothing. Our best hope was to find a town or a city to gather additional supplies. Maybe then we could split from the group. Leaving Marco and his babbling behind sounded delightful.

  I stared at Dad for a minute. “What are we doing?”

  He looked at me for a long moment before speaking, searching my eyes for an answer. “Honestly, I’m not so sure I know.”

  It wasn’t the response I wanted, but it was probably the only one I’d be willing to accept. There were no answers. Not really. “I’m scared.”

  He touched my cheek. His lips turned upward in a sad smile. “I’m a little scared, too.”

  I took his hand and held it — callused, tough, worn, but comforting. “I’m not cut out for being an apoca… disaster survivor, you know?” He hated when I called it an apocalypse, even though that was exactly what this whole thing happened to be, but still….

  His smile became a little more real this time. “I don’t think anyone is.”

  “All of this sucks. On the suckage scale from one to ten, this would top out at a ten for sure.”

  He chuckled. “I can’t argue with you on that one.”

  Neither of us spoke for a moment. I continued to hold his hand, needing that connection. Finally, I broke the silence. “Nothing will be the same again, will it, Dad?”

  He shook his head a little. “I don’t see how it could be.”

  “It’s kind of like how it was after Mom died.” After Mom’s murder, our lives shifted, forever changed. It was as if we’d been plucked off one path and placed on another. Although everything looked similar to the original, it wasn’t. Nothing was the same. Not the sky. Not the trees. Not even each other. Nothing.

  Dad’s eyes teared. “I guess it is.” He clasped my hand between both of his and squeezed it gently. “But we’ll be okay. If we can survive losing your mother, we can survive this.”

  I wouldn’t say that we survived after Mom died. That word was much too big and somehow much too heroic to describe how we managed to keep going without her. And right now, the word “survive” didn’t quite work for the situation we were in either. We were simply being. We breathed, we ate, we slept, and we kept moving forward, because we didn’t have much of a choice.

  I rolled toward him, displacing Callie, who meowed before climbing over our sleeping bags to settle next to Toby. I needed my dad to hold me, to make me feel as though everything would be all right.

  He wrapped me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. “We can do this, Tess. We will find other survivors and we will create a new life. It won’t be the same, but as long as we have each other, we can do anything.”

  I sure hoped he was right.

  Meow, meow.

  Callie sat on my chest and clawed at my sleeping bag. It couldn’t possibly be morning yet, but a hint of sunlight slowly made its way inside our tent. Even so, that didn’t mean I wanted to get up. Not yet. Maybe if I ignore her, she’ll let me go back to sleep….

  Meow, meow.

  “For crying out loud, take care of your cat.” Toby rolled over on his side, his back to me. “I’m trying to sleep here.”

  I was trying to sleep, too. Oh, how I wanted to sleep. Just one more hour…

  Meow, meow, meeeoooww!

  “Damn it, Tess. I’m going to unzip the tent and set her free if you continue to lay there.”

  Dad didn’t budge. He snored through the incessant meowing and Toby’s complaining. How I envied Dad’s ability to tune out the world. Why couldn’t I have been blessed with those genes?

  “Fine.” As much as I debated letting Toby set my cat free so we could all go back to sleep, I slipped from my bag and grabbed Callie’s leash.

  With one continuous movement, I unzipped the tent. Callie darted out. She came up short as the leash became t
aut, knocking her off her feet. She righted herself, turned, and glared at me as if it was my fault.

  “After all this time being on a leash, you’d think you would’ve learned by now.” I kept my voice low. No one else in our small camp seemed to be awake — the lucky ducks. “Give me a second, will ya? Besides, that leash is keeping you alive, my impatient little feline.”

  I reached for my overturned boots that sat outside the door and gave them a quick shake before slipping my socked feet inside. No point to lace up the boots, because once Callie did her business, I planned to kick them off and catch a few more winks.

  Cats lived in the wild, in places like deserts and jungles for centuries. The world was their freakin’ litter box! So why then was my cat the one who insisted I get up in the wee morning hours, finding the idea of scratching in the dirt to pee somehow beneath her?

  “You’re not that domesticated. Get over yourself and go already.” This was taking forever. I love this cat. I love this cat. I love this cat. At the rate in which she took a few steps here and there, sniffed the area around her, before moving to a different location, I wouldn’t be sleeping again until nightfall. That just wouldn’t do. “Pee now or I’m tying you to a tree. Don’t even think about meowing, because no one will hear you.” I’d make sure of that. We’d walked some distance from the camp, though I kept it within eyesight, as not to wake anyone. “I’m this close to doing it, too.” I pinched my fingers together, but once again, she didn’t notice. Cats never do. “Why couldn’t you have been a dog?” Dogs would make excellent apocalypse companions. Think I am Legend, A Boy and His Dog, The Stand. No one has a cat during the end of days because cats are stubborn and take forever to pee!

  But Toby had to go and be all allergic to dogs, the jerk, and so a cat it was.

  A branch snapped behind me. I spun around, seeing nothing. Of course, it would be nothing. We were all alone out there. My heart thumped madly, not allowing me to completely believe my own thoughts. I glanced around, listening. Only pure and eerie silence filled my ears. The trees and brush stood solid. Not even a hint of a breeze indicated that the wind somehow caused the noise.

  Nothing indicated that the branch was anything more than my imagination playing tricks on me, or nature being nature. Callie appeared at ease, sniffing the ground before clawing at the dirt. Now she has to pee. Go figure. If she didn’t seem bothered, then I shouldn’t be either.

  I took a deep breath and released it. Mountains make noises, natural noises, so okay. Everything’s fine. Nothing to see here. Still, I wished I had my hunting knife. I reminded myself to never be without it again. So foolish.

  A branch snapped again. Then another.

  Callie stopped mid-pee and meowed in the direction of the noise.

  Holy crap! This time I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. Only my wide eyes darted around inside their sockets, trying to figure out where the sound came from and what caused it.

  Something did cause it. I was certain of it.

  And the fourth deliberate snap proved it, and even though I should’ve turned and run back to camp or yelled for help or something, because that’s what a sane person would do, I only managed to whisper, “Cole?”

  Chapter 6

  “Who’s Cole?”

  I swung around, surprised to find Marco standing only a few steps behind me. I heard twigs break in a rather silent forest, yet I hadn’t heard Marco’s large clomping footsteps approaching. How was that even possible? He was as graceful as an elephant and as loud as a Fourth of July fireworks display.

  “Did you hear anything?” I pointed to the trees with a shaky finger. “Over there? Before you snuck up on me?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t sneak up on you. I was—”

  I waved him off, not wanting to waste time arguing over technicalities. He had snuck up on me. Of course, he had. “Did you hear anything?” I tried again.

  “Hear what?”

  “Like branches breaking? Over there.” I picked up Callie and took a few steps toward the trees, desperately listening for any more sounds. If I’d heard something, and I was certain I had, and if it were Cole, I wanted … well, I wanted to know.

  “I didn’t hear anything. Only you talking to yourself.” He stepped near me. He opened his mouth to say something more, and I held up my hand, silencing him.

  “Something was out there.” Whether I tried to convince him or convince myself, I couldn’t be sure. “One branch breaking, okay. But four, that’s real.” I turned and looked at Marco. “That’s real. Something was out there.”

  He took a step back, his body stiffening. He glanced over his shoulder toward camp. “Then I … I think we should get the others.”

  I hardly heard a word he said. As he retreated, I stepped closer to the trees. Curiosity dragged me forward. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much I wanted Cole to be there. To be with me. Whatever this stupid new world tossed my way, I could handle it with him by my side. I knew I could. Please be Cole.

  “Hey, wait. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The big doof grabbed my arm, stopping me. “We don’t know what’s out there.”

  Logically, he was right. Emotionally, I didn’t care. “That’s why I want to find out.” I shook off his hand and adjusted my irritated cat in my arms. “Go back if you want to, but I’m taking a look.”

  I made it only a few steps before he came to my side. “Fine, I’m coming. I just want it noted that I think this is the dumbest thing we could be doing.”

  “Noted.” I hugged Callie to my chest and started in the direction the sounds had come from. First, I wanted Cole, if he happened to still be around. And second, I’d settle for some evidence of his presence if he wasn’t. Not much to ask, right?

  And as for dumb … well, that could be argued. Someone wanted me to know they were there, and since the world was void of all people, that left Cole.

  Marco glanced over his shoulder repeatedly but followed despite his apparent nervousness. It wasn’t as if my nerves suddenly vanished. My heart thumped a crazy beat and my hands shook a little. Frightened? No. More like excitement. To calm myself and control my trembling, I stroked Callie’s fur. It helped me and kept her silent in the process.

  We brushed past thick shrubs and pushed aside low-hanging branches. Every step we took echoed much louder than I anticipated. At least two inches of pine needles, sprouting growth, and tangles of vines and weeds covered the forest floor. Despite Marco’s efforts to walk stealthily for my sake, his large feet couldn’t help but kick up dirt, stumble over rocks, and snap his fair share of twigs. He couldn’t be quiet even if he wanted to.

  “Do you really think sneaking up on something is the best way to go about this?”

  “You couldn’t sneak up on anyone if you tried.” I then shushed him by placing my finger over his lips. His eyes widened, not in surprise, but in a way that weirded me out. I drew my hand back and wiped my finger off on my pants before going back to petting my cat.

  What am I doing? This was stupid. If Cole wanted me to find him, or wanted me to know he was close by, he’d do so. He’d slip a note in my pack or leave me some random sign, because that was how he worked. That was what he’d done before.

  “It could be a bear or a wolf, and we’re walking right toward its hungry mouth.” He walked a little too close for my liking, staying right at my back.

  I turned, nearly bumped into him, and shot Marco a glance to shut him up. I wasn’t about to place my finger over his mouth again. Eeeww. But he did have a point. The noise could’ve been an animal. Maybe.

  Somehow, I didn’t think so. Animals didn’t deliberately break sticks. And in the small amount of time we’d been outside of the bunker, we hadn’t seen so much as a squirrel or bird.

  I stopped and listened. Except for Marco’s heavy breathing, I heard nothing out of the ordinary.

  “We should go back.”

  “Not yet,” I said and took another step further into the thicket of trees. Mar
co didn’t follow, which was fine by me. “Cole,” I whispered. “If you’re there, I want you to know it’s okay.”

  “Holy crap, Tess. You are delusional.”

  I spun around so quickly that Callie startled and jumped from my arms. Thank goodness for the leash. “Delusional?”

  Marco took a deep breath, inflated his chest, and raised his chin. “You’re talking to the trees as if you’re going to get an answer, as if someone might be out there.”

  “Wouldn’t it be amazing if there were?” I sounded like a nut case. I knew it but couldn’t help it.

  He shook his head, turned, and started back to camp. “You can’t be acting all crazy. This isn’t the time for that.”

  As if there were a good time … I grabbed his arm, stopping him. “I’m not trying to act crazy. If anything, I’m trying really hard to prove that I’m not. I know what happened to me even if no one else believes it, and I know what I just heard.”

  He patted my hand, keeping it in place. “I don’t care one way or the other. Believe what you want, hear what you want, but I can tell you that I don’t think the others would be as understanding. If you hear things, I suggest you keep it to yourself.”

  “In the trees, huh?” Dale raised his brows as he stirred a pot over his small camp stove. “You two kids trying to find some alone time?” He smiled.

  I grimaced and backed away from Marco, more out of instinct than anything. A hint of hurt lined Marco’s eyes. For a moment I felt ashamed for treating him so awful. He didn’t deserve that, but I also didn’t want anyone thinking something was going on between the two of us. Not if I could help it. “I was only taking my cat to use the bathroom.”

  “And you needed Marco’s help to do that?” Dale continued to smile, only it wasn’t a smile made in fun or jest, but more of a smile lined with frat boy perviness. “Way to go, Marco.”

  Marco stepped forward in a way I hadn’t ever seen him do and pointed at Dale. “Leave her alone. I mean it.”

  Dale shook his head, not the least bit intimidated, and smirked. “Too bad, man. Getting shut out by the only girl left on earth is tough.”