N87 Virus | Book 1 | After the Outbreak
Page 15
“That is by far the best show I’ve seen out here! That was amazing. I wonder who that guy is. I’ve seen him at Town Hall during meals, but I’ve never spoken to him.” Morgan stood and stretched. “Speaking of meals, it’s almost lunchtime. We should head over there.”
“Agreed,” Allison said as they gathered their things to head to lunch.
“Thanks for coming here with me. It reminded me of before the world went to shit. Before the Infected ruined my life. I felt normal for a little bit. I haven’t felt normal in such a long time.” Allison looped her arm through Morgan’s.
“I haven’t felt normal for a long time too. Hey, something else we have in common.” Allison smiled.
Allison kept her eyes on the football field until it was no longer in her vision. Those classes are just what I need. I’ve been lucky so far, but I need to know how to defend myself.
Chapter Seventeen
Allison
The next morning Allison got up before her housemates and headed to the football field. The town was quiet as she walked the streets, passing a spare few who ventured out so early. They smiled warmly at Allison as they greeted her and continued on with whatever it was they were doing. When Allison arrived at the football field, there was only one other person there. The man who beat Elliot yesterday was on one side of the field, arrow in hand, bow drawn back, aiming at a target. He released the arrow as he glanced at Allison. His black t-shirt was haphazardly tucked into khaki cargo pants and he wore a pair of tightly laced hiking boots on his feet. His skin slightly glistened in the morning light from a thin layer of sweat.
He brought the bow back up to his cheek, pulled back the string with an arrow firmly in place, and let go in one fluid movement. Just looking at the man, he would never be described as graceful, but that was the only word for his movement when he strung his bow and arrow and sent it sailing. The arrow landed about thirty feet out, blasting into the target near the center, almost a bullseye. So not only does he look good doing it, but he is an impressive shot too. Damn. Allison walked toward the man as he leaned down to pick up another arrow. He looked back at Allison but continued with his task. His shoulders and arms tensed as he pulled back the bow string, and every muscle was perfectly defined. He stood and shot at the target, this arrow landing very near the last. He turned and faced Allison, his blue eyes piercing with intense focus as he ran his hand over his buzz cut of light brown hair, sending droplets of sweat falling to the ground. He wiped his hand on his pants a few times, then extended it to Allison.
“You’re a great shot,” she said.
“Thanks. My name is Trevor. You?” His eyes met hers.
“I’m Allison.” She shook his hand, which despite his best efforts, still felt moist.
“Thanks. So, what brings you to the field, Allison? Not many girls come out here.” He gathered up the arrows on the ground and began walking toward the target to retrieve the others. Allison hurried to keep up.
“I want to learn this.” She pointed around her at all the equipment. “All of it.”
“All of it? That’s a lot of stuff. It would take someone a long time to learn it all. Are you planning on sticking around here for the long haul?” He yanked his arrows from the target one by one, checking each tip for breaks. He bundled all the arrows under his arm and began walking over to a shed on the side of the field. Allison stayed right behind him.
“Okay. Well maybe not all of it because I’m not staying here. But some of it. Enough to, say, defend myself not just from Infected but from people too.” She kept pace with him until he reached the shed and opened it.
“Why would you need to fight Infected or otherwise?” he asked as he hung the bow on the wall of the shed and slipped the arrows into a stand with a variety of others.
“Let’s just say not everyone is as charmed by my personality as you.” Allison smirked. Trevor’s hearty laugh engulfed the air.
“Well, I didn’t think I was charmed just yet. But I could see that being a possibility in the future.” He shut the shed and turned to face a blushing Allison. “I can teach you some things. But I would advise that you just try to avoid conflict altogether. It’s always the best way to stay alive and uninfected.”
“Are you an instructor here? I thought it was that old man I saw yesterday.”
“Oh, Joe? Yeah, he is the official New Harbor instructor. I’m just a Marine, well I guess former Marine, traveling through and figured I’d help out while I was here. I know a little about a lot. Joe knows a lot about a lot.” Trevor trudged toward the edge of the field where he had a camo backpack, this time slowing his pace a bit so Allison could easily keep up. He sat down next to his bag and gestured for Allison to join him. He pulled out a canteen and offered it to her. She declined, and he took a swallow while still digging through his bag. He pulled out a bag of trail mix and tossed it into Allison’s lap and then pulled out one for himself. Allison tore open the bag and munched on the trail mix.
“So will you teach me something? Anything?” she asked with pleading eyes. Trevor nodded.
“Yeah, I’ll teach you some basic self-defense stuff, I guess. But I stand by my original advice. Avoid conflict.” He lifted the bag of trail mix to his lips and poured the last of its contents into his mouth. Dr. Neff’s face flashed across her mind, sending a shudder down her spine.
“I’d love to. Really, I would. But I don’t think that will be possible.” She spoke in a hushed voice.
“Why?” Trevor stared at her with a hint of trail mix dust still on his lips.
“I just need to do this. Shouldn’t everyone be able to defend themselves now?” She caught herself playing with her hair and dropped her hand to her lap. Trevor’s eyebrows raised as he examined her.
“Well, Allison, I’ll need a better reason than that.” He spun around, swung his bag onto his back, and walked toward the archery shed. Allison scrambled to her feet and followed him.
“I need this.” Her voice was firm. She grabbed his shoulder, slowing his stride.
“I only help those who are honest.” His eyes met hers as he turned and faced her. The fire behind his eyes faded when he saw her pleading face. “I could help you if I knew why you need to defend yourself.”
Allison folded her arms across her chest. “I just think it’s a good life skill to have when people are running around eating each other.”
“Come at me. I want to see what your natural fight instinct is.” Trevor beckoned Allison forward. She leaped, swinging her right arm out toward his head. Trevor quickly stepped aside, grabbed Allison’s right wrist with his left hand while slamming his other hand into her upper back and twisting his body to match her movement, sending her propelling hard onto the ground. “Again,” he said.
Allison hoisted herself up from the ground as she wiped the dirt from her face. The familiar burn filled her core, her stomach churned, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. It made Allison uncomfortable, strong, angry. Control it. She pushed the feeling away until the burning within smothered out and she felt like herself again. She charged Trevor again and again, and he easily evaded her, sending her to the ground. She rose, this time not bothering to wipe away the dirt. The burning returned, and vomit filled her throat. She swallowed hard to keep from spewing puke all over herself. She again pushed the burning away. She stopped the spread but couldn’t put out the flame. Anger filled her. She lunged toward Trevor, diving into his waist, football-lineman style. The impact drove Trevor back a few feet before he steadied himself. Allison wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. He wrapped his arms around her neck, tightening his hold with each move she made. Allison struggled to breathe, struggled to see, struggled to think. Eyes, nose, groin, or neck. The burning grew in her chest, cultivating her anger, and a fog drifted over her mind. Get away, hurt him. She released her hold on Trevor’s stomach, balled her fist, and slammed it into his groin.
“Ugh.” Trevor released his arms as he stepped away from Allison. Alliso
n stumbled backward, falling to the ground as she inhaled deeply. Trevor hunched over, clutching his groin, but remained upright. Allison lay strewn across the ground, breathing heavily while the world came back into focus around her. With each breath she took, the fog cleared, anger dispersed, and the burning died. Trevor paced the ground in front of her, his shoulders heaving up and down as he took deep, controlled breaths before finally coming to a halt at Allison’s feet.
“Good. Do it again,” Trevor said. And she did.
They ran this same drill repeatedly until Allison could no longer pick herself up from the ground without assistance. The sun was high in the sky, and the field was full of other people practicing their skills. When did all these people get here?
“Let’s take a break,” Trevor wheezed.
“No, I want to keep going,” Allison argued.
“Your first lesson should have been how to know when to quit. It’s lunchtime. We need to refuel and your body needs a break.” Trevor started to leave the field. “Come on, let’s go get lunch.”
They walked side by side silently to Town Hall. The room was crowded and people bustled around with trays, finding seats at long tables. Trevor grasped Allison’s hand and weaved through the crowd to the lunch line. Her heart raced when his hand enclosed hers. He picked up a tray and passed it to Allison before picking up one for himself. He leaned over, brushing his body against hers, and spoke into her ear.
“Get something portable so we can take it back to the field.” Allison nodded as she picked up a turkey sandwich. At the end of the lunch line, Trevor traded their trays for a bag and slipped all their food into it. He then took Allison’s hand and guided her through the crowd to the outside before releasing her.
They found a shady spot under a tree at the edge of the field. Allison sat on the ground, leaning against the trunk as she devoured her lunch. Trevor sat in front of her, glancing at her while he ate his own food.
“How about an anatomy lesson?” he said.
“Sure.” Allison shoveled her turkey sandwich into her mouth.
Trevor pointed to his ribs and then leaned over and touched her ribs in the same area. Allison flinched slightly under his touch but didn’t pull away.
“Feel this. That’s your intercostal space. If you stick a knife here, between the third and fourth rib, you can puncture someone’s lung. Your opponent won’t fight well when they are struggling to breathe.” He leaned forward and took her hand in his and gently guided it over her ribs. “You feel the indentions? Each one is a space between your ribs. You will do some damage if you make it into any of them but aim for the area between the third and fourth ribs on either side.” He guided her hand to her neck and raised his other hand to his own neck. He pressed her fingers into her neck and she felt her pulse race beneath them. “That is your carotid artery. It’s on both sides of the neck. You sever that and a person would bleed out within minutes. No one could help them in time. Compress it like in a choke hold and they will pass out within twenty seconds. Hold it for two to four minutes and you will kill them. But that goes two ways. Don’t let anyone near your neck.”
Allison nodded, eyes locked with Trevor’s, as he guided her hand down to her thigh. His other hand went to his thigh. “The femoral artery runs along here.” His hand traced a line on the anterior of his thigh and he used his other hand to mirror the movement on Allison’s leg. “The depth depends on the person. Count on at least an inch beneath the skin. Cut it and within five minutes they will have lost so much blood there’s no recovery. But the blood loss will cause a drop in blood pressure so they won’t be able to function long before that.” He released her hand and turned around, placing his hands on either side of his flank. “Kidneys are here. Hit someone here and they will double over with the pain. Will probably piss blood for a while too. Hit them hard enough and you could cause some permanent internal damage, maybe even bleeding that could lead to death.” He twisted back around, facing Allison. “Any questions?”
“Yeah. Tons.” Allison’s mind raced as she tried to absorb all the information just told to her.
“Good. Get up. Let’s keep going.” Trevor smiled.
Allison slowly limped through the door of her temporary home. Morgan walked around the corner, and the two almost collided into each other.
“Whoa!” Morgan said. “Wow, you look like death. What happened?”
“Trevor happened. He’s the guy that fought Elliot. My body is one giant bruise,” Allison said.
“What did he do to you!” Morgan screamed.
“No, no, not like that. I asked him to teach me to fight. I’ve been at the field all day with him. I’ve been practicing, or really having my ass kicked.” Allison plopped onto the couch.
“Just a sec.” Morgan disappeared down the hall before returning with a first aid kit and a glass of water. “Let me clean up some of these scratches.” Morgan handed Allison the water and some Tylenol, then set to cleansing her wounds.
“Thanks.” She flinched as the alcohol burned her skin.
“Us girls have to stick together.” Morgan finished applying the final pink bandaid to Allison’s knee. “All better.”
“You didn’t have to do all of that. Thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend close to my age,” Allison said.
“Yeah, me too. Every day of my life since the outbreak has been about surviving. I am looking forward to living again.”
“I don’t know if there is a ‘living again.’ What does that even mean nowadays?” Allison sighed.
“What’s the point of being alive if you aren’t living?” Morgan’s eyes met Allison’s.
“I’m not someone who can answer that.” Allison averted her eyes.
“So why do you want to learn to fight?”
“To defend myself.” Allison’s eyes grew heavy; her body yearned for sleep.
“Seems pointless to fight to be alive if you aren’t living.” Morgan’s words echoed in Allison’s brain as she drifted into sleep, vaguely aware of Morgan covering her with a blanket.
Chapter Eighteen
Allison
Allison stayed busy spending the days training with Trevor. After countless hours of having her ass handed to her and struggling to control her inner burn, she now had a new perspective on superheroes. Having abilities beyond the normal person came with its own set of problems. But thanks to Trevor, she felt more capable than she ever had. She could escape holds more often than not and without breaking someone’s arm. She could dodge punches and throw some back. It was a struggle to not use all of her strength when her body was beaten and bloody, but she was learning to control it. She wanted as few people as possible to know she had been infected to avoid the pity stares, disgusted glances, and whispers as she walked by. Here she was normal, and she liked it.
“Gotcha!” Allison leaned into her knee, pushing it into Trevor’s back as she twisted his arm behind him, pinning him to the ground. Trevor tapped out with his free hand.
“I surrender!” he shouted. Allison released Trevor. “Man, you’re getting good at that. You’re much stronger than you look. I’m still surprised by it.” Trevor stood up and wiped the blades of grass from his clothes. Allison ran her hands down his back, helping him clean off. “Thanks,” he said.
“No problem. It’s the least I could do after kicking your ass.” Allison grinned and stepped backward away from him, knowing what would come next.
“Oh yeah? You call that an ass-kicking? I’ll show you an ass-kicking!” Trevor lunged for her. Her high-pitched laughter filled the air as she dodged and ran. He gave chase, snatching her up at the waist and spinning her around. Allison’s skin tingled beneath his hands. She bit her lip to suppress the electric shiver running down her spine. He laid her on a bench, tickling her mercilessly as he smiled down at her.
“Okay! Okay! You win!” Allison shrieked. Trevor stopped his tickle assault, brushing her hair from her face as he stood.
“I need to go help at th
e community center, but I’ll see you in a few hours for another round.” Trevor waved as he walked off the football field. Her stomach fluttered, and heat filled her cheeks. Allison watched him until he was out of view, then gathered her things to head home. She needed a nap and some lunch before their afternoon lesson.
Most evenings she played board games, watched movies, or participated in town activities with the twins and sometimes Trevor. Tonight was board game night with Morgan and Matt. She pulled Monopoly and Candyland from the closet and set them on the table. She’d let Morgan pick the game tonight. Allison used the friend-bonding time as a distraction from her worries. Every day there was constant concern that Nurse Catherine or some other of Dr. Neff’s goonies would find her.
Dr. Neff wasn’t her only cause for unrest. The longer she stayed, the further away redemption seemed. How can you make amends with people if you never find them? When she was alone, the guilt weighed her down until she was a pile of tears and snot. She wrote to clear her mind, but it didn’t clear her conscience. She added her thoughts to the notes detailing her flashbacks, trying to make sense of the troubled mess in her head. Piece together her sick years one jagged memory at a time. Bits and pieces were becoming clearer day by day. She had to find the cabin. The memory of her killing the man in the cabin played over and over again in her dreams. His blood splattered across the white sink, his cries, and something else she couldn’t quite remember. It was important, she just didn’t know why. To find her answers, she needed to leave New Harbor and her new friends. She couldn’t keep putting it off.
She sat on the couch with her journal, scarfing down her sandwich. She was relieved that she never saw a Collector in New Harbor; in fact, no one new had come to the town since she arrived. Allison knew this wouldn’t last. She couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen to this town, to the people who called it home, or to her friends if a Collector found her here. Her just being here put everyone in the town in danger, and that was the last thing she wanted. The less everyone knew, the better. She wanted everyone to have plausible deniability in case Dr. Neff came knocking at their gate one day. She flipped to her bookmarked section dedicated to the cabin. Her fingers danced over the worn pages as she traced her own words, rereading things she had read so many times before that she knew them by heart. The cabin was etched in her brain now, with or without the journal to help anchor the memory. She shut the journal before stretching out across the couch for a cat nap.