by Kadin, Karri
Allison flattened her body to the ground, the rough pavement pressing into her skin, decorating it with tiny indentations. She stared at the skeleton, letting tears pour from her eyes and form a tiny pool of salty liquid in-between her cheek and the road. How did he get down here? He must have been so scared. Guilt tightened its hold on her neck, spreading its grasp to her chest, squeezing her in a crippling vise. Murderer. She let herself cry. Her chest tightened and her body shook violently with each sob. Her vision clouded with tears, and she was gasping for breath. Monster. The guilt held on, suffocating her, holding her hostage, killing her. She wheezed as she gasped for air. Anxiety grew in her chest, its tentacles reaching for every part of her being. The anxiety spread, taking away Allison’s control over her body as her breathing became more labored. Can’t breathe. She closed her eyes and redirected her attention inward. One, two, three—stay calm—four, five, six—stay focused—eight, nine, ten—don’t forget to breathe. She concentrated on relaxing her major muscles, loosening her body from its vise. Mom. She slowed her breathing. Gabby. She crossed her arms across her chest, wrapping herself in a tight hug, calming the tremble of her body. Forgive me. Guilt released its hold on her and Allison sucked in the air, expanding her lungs to the fullest, and then released. She focused on the rhythm of her breathing and in response her muscles relaxed, cleansing the anxiety from her system.
The Coons did not make it; they did not survive. Allison had known that they likely had died that day, but she hoped anyway that she would find some evidence that they had survived, gotten away from the Infected surrounding their car. That they had gotten away from her. She killed them. She killed Brandon, Alisha, Jake, and James. It didn’t matter if she hadn’t been the one to strike the blow, she had taken part in ending their lives. Allison rolled onto her side and puked. When the last contents of her stomach were on the ground, she wiped her mouth with the bottom hem of her shirt, sat up, and leaned back on the bumper of the car.
Allison plundered through the trunk of the white sedan, finding some bottled water and canned goods, which she transferred to her truck, but not before downing a can of peaches. She then took an empty bag from the trunk and gently gathered up the small skeleton, placing it inside. Allison swung the bag onto her shoulder and spotted the bat on the ground. It was wooden with red and blue lines circling the handle. The head of the bat was chipped, dented, and discolored. She scooped it up and headed to her truck. She climbed in and drove around the town until she found a lovely park.
She parked her truck warily in the parking lot near the edge of the park as she surveyed the area. She had been too reckless lately. With Dr. Neff on her tail, she needed to be more aware of her surroundings. She needed to be with other people. It would be harder to kidnap her with an audience. The black truck was nowhere to be seen. No people. No animals. No Infected. She was utterly alone.
How are they following me without keeping me in their line of sight? A thought dawned on her. She exited Old Blue and started feeling under each wheel well. Nothing. She began digging through her bag, looking for anything she didn’t recognize. Sweat wet the nape of her neck as it cascaded down her back, causing her shirt to cling uncomfortably to her body. She pulled a hair tie from her bag and swiftly tied her hair into a high bun. She brushed the loose strands behind her right ear with her fingers and stroked a small raised bump. She touched behind her left ear in the same place, no bump. She pressed the bump with her fingers. It was firm, oval, and felt as if it was right below her skin. What is this? The memory of waking up in Dr. Neff’s med clinic slammed into her like a hurricane making landfall. Allison looked behind her ear using the truck’s side mirror. A slightly raised, oblong-shaped thing poked out from her skin.
Allison frantically snatched the backpack man’s knife from her pack and wiped it across her jeans, removing any visible dirt. She pulled her first aid kit from beneath the seat and dumped the supplies on the floorboard. She grabbed some alcohol wipes and disinfected the blade. Then Allison pushed the blade against her skin near the bump. She bit her lip to keep herself still against the bright pain as the blade sliced through her skin. Blood ran down her neck, collecting along the collar of her shirt. She started to slide the blade along the edge of the object, but stopped. If this is what I think it is, what if removing it alerts them? Would they just rush me now and take me? Or kill me? What if this isn’t the tracker? I need to know for sure before I perform surgery on myself. Allison slipped the knife into the bag with the skeleton and then bandaged her wound.
She took a small shovel from the toolbox in the bed of the truck and carried it with the child’s skeleton and the bat into the park. Brightly colored playground equipment spotted the landscape. A jungle gym with monkey bars and two slides, one twisty, one straight. Swings for all ages, some higher than others. The chains had been flipped over the above bar multiple times, maybe by some daredevil kid who wanted to fly. Another jungle gym with a red tire swing hanging from it, shaded by the climbing wall nearby. A merry-go-round, Allison’s favorite, painted the colors of the rainbow and placed in the shade of large trees. The grass was deep green, unkempt, but not annoyingly tall.
Allison scoured the park for the largest tree and made her way over to it. The ground beneath the tree was flat with few roots obnoxiously marring the surface. Birds nested in the branches overhead and sang to her as she worked. To her amazement, it did not take long to dig down about three feet. She dabbed sweat from her brow using her shirt and noted she wasn’t even winded. She removed the knife from the bag and put it on the ground. She gently placed the skeleton, still in the bag, and the bat into the hole.
She bowed her head to pray and realized she couldn’t remember even one prayer. She struggled with what to say before finally settling on a time-honored phrase.
“May they rest in peace,” Allison whispered.
She covered the hole back with the dirt and patted it down the best she could with her small shovel. She lifted the knife from the ground and walked over to the tall tree. Initials and hearts adorned its trunk. She ran her hand across the cuts in the wood, tracing the hearts with her fingertips. Near the base of the tree she found a carving that appeared fresher. A name carved deep into the truck surrounded by a large heart. Eudora. Eudora was loved deeply by someone. Love was still fighting on despite the horror that was drowning the world. Allison found a bare area of bark and engraved “J Coons” in the tree above the fresh mound of dirt. She sliced deep into the tree so whoever found it next would know someone had profoundly loved J. She couldn’t save them, she couldn’t save the backpack man, but maybe she could still save herself.
Chapter Fourteen
Allison
Allison took the truck out of town, driving further into the safe zone. She needed to get eyes on who was following her and didn’t want to worry about Infected sneaking up on her. She wanted to get closer to other people, just in case the men in the black truck were planning on moving in on her again.
Allison drove for hours, only stopping briefly to eat, with no sign of being followed. They must be hanging pretty far back. She ran her hand across the bump behind her ear as anxiety wrapped itself around her stomach and traveled up to her throat, threatening to send her into a panic. They let me dangle so they can swoop in whenever they want. She pulled some food from her pack and focused her thoughts on the journey ahead as she ate. Her stomach churned as bits of dried fruit and deer jerky hit her stomach, irritating it further. She consulted her journal, maps, and notes from Dave. A town only a half a day’s drive from her location should be populated. If she was willing to brave Collector checkpoints, she could be there in under two hours. However, considering they had already attacked her in the middle of the night, Allison thought it best to avoid them. Back roads were her best option.
The sun started settling into the horizon for the night, casting its orange glow over the trees, sending eerie shadows onto the roadway. No way I can make it there tonight. Allison searched each road
sign she passed until she found one indicating a campground was ahead. She followed the signs to a secluded campsite tucked in the woods off a back road. A blink-and-you-miss-it kind of place.
There was a small log cabin at the entrance with a wood sign hanging above the door that read “Office.” Allison glanced in the window and saw that it had been rummaged through probably more than once. Anything useful was long gone. She found a brochure, hard and faded from exposure, in a small bucket hanging next to the door. She opened it and saw a color map spread across the inner pages. She evaluated the map and picked a camping spot near the river that ran through the back of the campground. From the map it appeared there was just a thin line of trees between the spot and the road and only one entrance and exit by vehicle to the campsite. Perfect.
She set up camp with her truck faced outward for a quick escape and in a way that it blocked anyone from entering with a vehicle. She started a fire. The flames danced across the logs, billowing smoke into the air. No point in trying to hide when the people chasing you already know where you are. The smell of burned wood filled Allison’s nose, and she yearned for s’mores. She took some water from the river, boiled it, and repeated this process until all of her water-holding devices were full of sterilized water. She boiled one last pot of water and used it to clean herself as best she could without removing her clothes. Getting attacked by Collectors while naked was not on her to-do list. She had freeze dried chili for dinner by the crackling fire and plotted how her night would unfold.
Darkness washed over the landscape, swallowing everything it touched. Allison extinguished the fire before climbing into her truck. Are they watching me now? Allison locked both truck doors and rested on her back as if she were sleeping. She listened, but the only sound drifting in the air was the low hum of crickets. She took some duct tape from her bag and obscured the overhead light in the truck with multiple layers. When she finished, she felt in the dark with her hands making sure she covered the entire thing without missing a single spot. She slipped down onto the floorboard of the driver’s side and slowly opened the door. The cab of the truck remained dark, the overhead light successfully masked by layers of tape. Allison exhaled in relief. How long was I holding my breath? She slid out of the truck and silently pushed the door closed until she heard it quietly click. She hesitated and listened again. Just the crickets. Allison rested her hand on the cool metal of her pistol hidden in her waistband as she sprinted off through the trees to the road.
She followed the street back around to the front of the campground, concealing herself in foliage as she traveled. She searched through the trees looking at all the camping spots she passed; no sign of the black truck could be found. It’s unlikely they would venture in here to camp themselves. It would be too easy to be caught. But they’re close. The vegetation brushed against her skin as she slowly made her way in the dark. It didn’t take long for her eyes to adjust, but it was near impossible to make out her surroundings except for the few areas illuminated by solar-powered street lights. She looped around, still following the road, and came to the front of the campground, which was still deserted. She continued to follow the road, staying within the forest edge, in the direction she drove in from.
A quarter mile from the campground, she spotted a fire in the distance. Gotcha. She positioned her hand on the grip of her gun while she slowly approached. She tried to control her breathing, to ease the shaking of her body. The familiar heat rolled in her stomach, staying right below the surface for now. Faint voices flowed across the landscape, too inaudible to make out the words. The smoke from their fire reached Allison, but this time it didn’t trigger a desire for s’mores. A pang of pain overwhelmed Allison’s hand as she remembered the burn she received from the fire pit when she was nine. Danger. Allison shook her hand until the feeling passed and continued her excursion toward the unsuspecting campers.
Thankfully, the ground was relatively clear. She strolled, taking her time so she silently blended into obscurity. As she approached the source of the smoke, the voices grew louder, more distinguished, and she could make out three figures near the fire. Allison’s heart danced a jive in her chest as she observed the camp. The black truck was parked between the fire and the main road. She increased her speed as her pulse thumped in her ears and the heat in her belly set the butterflies alight. They scrambled wildly through her torso, begging to be freed. Allison hit a large log with her lower half and froze as the thud echoed through the trees.
“What was that?” a man said, as he looked off into the woods.
“Just an animal, probably a raccoon. How about you go catch it, Joe?” teased another man.
“How about you fucking go catch it if you want it so bad?” Joe grumbled.
He was standing near the truck, looking into the woods. Joe was tall with blond hair and black clothes. His hips were fitted with holsters holding at least two guns.
“Why don’t you both just shut the fuck up?” said a woman as she walked toward the men from the opposite side of the truck. Allison’s breath caught in her throat and she covered her mouth to suppress a gasp. The woman was Nurse Catherine. Bitch.
“Aww, we were just joking around, boss. Just blowing off some steam,” the second man said. He was sitting on the ground near the fire, leaning against a log. His weapon was in pieces on a rag in front of him and he was meticulously cleaning each piece. The man’s bald head reflected the firelight like a beacon. He was heavyset and had a scar across his face big enough that it was visible to Allison even at a distance. He wore all black like Joe.
“We are here to do a job, not blow off steam. Am I clear Joe, Kevin? We need to be on our A-game at all times,” Catherine said as she sat down on the tailgate of the truck, eating something from a bag.
“Yes, ma’am,” both men replied as Joe sat next to Kevin near the fire. Kevin took a flask out of a bag and took a sip before passing it to Joe. Joe pulled a bag of food from his pocket and began munching.
“So, when do we grab the freak? Why are we waiting so long?” Joe asked, as he opened a bag and began eating.
“We need to know more about her, what she is capable of. This is valuable information for Dr. Neff. You know this. Plus, you two royally fucked up last time. You don’t want to fuck up again or Dr. Neff will have your heads, literally,” Catherine tapped on the tablet in her hand. “What was she doing when you left her?” she looked at Kevin.
“She went to bed in the truck. I sat there a good thirty minutes and never saw her stir so she must be asleep,” Kevin replied as he opened his own bag of food from the pack and began eating. “I still can’t believe that little lady can knock a fucking Infected’s head clear off. That was some carnage. I wish we would have been close enough to see that.”
Joe mumbled, “If we had been close enough to see that, then we would have been close enough for her to see us. If that was the case, it may have been our heads knocked off. You know how they can be once they are in a rage—uncontrollable.” Joe lifted his bag of food to his lips, shaking the last crumbs into his mouth before he tossed it to the side.
“We will move in soon. But we have time to observe her more since we have her tagged. Might as well gather field evidence while we are out here. If our evidence is useful, it may be enough to make Dr. Neff forget our first fuck-up,” Catherine stated as she tapped away on her tablet.
Kevin pulled a black electronic device from his pocket with a tiny screen on the front of it. He looked down at the screen and smirked.
“She hasn’t moved, so I think she’s set for the night. I’ll head back over soon to keep an eye on her,” Kevin said, laying the device down next to him. “I’m going to get a brief cat nap first.”
“You should go now,” Catherine snarled. “You know it’s only accurate within a few blocks of her location. Without eyes on her we won’t know if she left the campground until she’s far ahead of us.”
Kevin snapped, “Look, lady, she’s not moving and she won’t be until
morning. So really, I don’t need to go there at all, especially since we have her fucking tagged. If she gets more than a mile away, it will alert us. I’ve been doing all this extra shit to be nice and be a team player, but you’re really wearing on me, lady. We know how to do our jobs. We are the field experts, not you.”
“If you knew how to do your job, I wouldn’t be here!” Catherine roared. “Most specimens you’ve brought in have been damaged. Dr. Neff wanted to assure this one arrives in excellent condition. She is the cure to N87! We only have one shot at this and it cannot be fucked up by a wannabe soldier who gets his rocks off killing Infected.” She shot Kevin a look of disdain. Kevin flew to his feet in a rage.
“I’m just so sick of you! And if you believe that he’s trying to cure N87 for everyone, you are stupider than you look.” Kevin kicked his gear, sending some of it flying toward the forest before he stomped toward Catherine. The tracking device lay on the dirt at the tree line near the tailgate of the truck. Joe stood up to intervene as Catherine and Kevin threw insults at each other.
I have to get that tracker! Allison watched as Joe stood between the bickering duo. All three were fully absorbed in their conflict. Allison took a deep breath and slipped from the trees. She dropped to all fours next to the truck and crawled toward the device. Her heart raced and she had to remind herself to breathe. The shouts near the campfire grew louder and a crash followed. Allison looked under the truck in the direction of the fire. Joe and Kevin were now twisted together in a brawl while Catherine kicked at them both. Allison reached the back tires and again checked to make sure her unwelcome travel companions were distracted before she reached out and snatched the device.
