“His wife and children died from the rabies. He watched it happen. There was nothing he could do. Once people are infected, all you can do is watch them die or watch them turn.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “That’s horrible.”
Joshua gave a small nod. “Geoffrey never went into shelter. He tried to help the military stop the spread. I met him a few months after I’d left the bunker.” The slightest hint of admiration lay in his tone.
“But why did so many people die? And why have some survived?”
Joshua ran a hand through his hair. “Geoffrey told me that about ten per cent of the population are immune to the rabies, maybe even less. When people began leaving the bunkers, the virus was still highly contagious and the majority got infected. Almost all of them died. Those that didn’t die are now howling in the streets.”
“But if ten per cent are immune, why are there so few left?”
Joshua stared at the ground, clenching his hands into fists. “After a few months, the mood in the public bunkers became…irritable. People lost it over nothing. There were fights and shootings. That’s why people in public bunkers went outside much sooner than your family. And outside they were easy prey.”
The room no longer seemed warm. “How do I know if I’m immune?”
“Geoffrey says it isn’t contagious any more – only if you get the bodily fluids of a Weeper or infected person in your bloodstream…or something like that.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I guess I’m immune.”
“So my father might not get the virus?” I asked in a whisper. If he’s still alive, if the Weepers haven’t eaten him. My fingernails dug into my palms.
Joshua dropped his legs from the armrest and stood. “If he’s not bitten.”
He walked towards a cupboard and took a few boxes of bullets and several weapons from it. Five were smaller guns, one was a shotgun. He came back to the sofa and sank down beside me. After he’d put the weapons on the table, he began loading them.
“We’ll set out tomorrow, just after sunrise. Then we should have enough time to get your family and bring them back here. After that, we’ll look for your father. The chances are slim that he’s still alive, but we’ll try.”
The chances are slim. The words repeated themselves in my head.
“Maybe it would be better if we began with the search for my dad.”
Joshua shook his head. “It might take hours or days to locate your father. We don’t even know if he’s still alive. We should first save those who have the best chance of survival, and that’s the rest of your family.”
That made sense. I gulped and gave a small nod. “How…how long do the Weepers keep their…prey?”
The question felt wrong. Humans weren’t prey. An image of Dad in some dark basement waiting to be used as food wouldn’t leave my mind.
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. This isn’t something you watch on the Discovery Channel, or read in a science book. I guess they keep some of them for days or even weeks. Maybe they even stockpile for winter, but it’s too early for that.” His voice was emotionless, calm even. It made me furious.
“How can you be so relaxed about all this? Don’t you care at all?” My hands clenched into fists.
He pulled his gaze up and looked me square in the eyes. “I do care. That’s why I hunt them. But if you’ve seen what I have, then you learn to deal with the murders and disappearances. You learn to push it aside and move on. The other life isn’t here any more. This new world has its own rules. Survival of the fittest is one of them. If you’re hoping for kindness and pity, don’t hold your breath. I left the shelter with two dozen other people. Now, I’m the only survivor.”
So much death. The thought made me ill. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how you do it,” I admitted in a whisper.
A sad smile broke on his face. “You get used to it. You need to. It’s not a choice, it’s a necessity.”
My stomach disrupted the silence with a growl.
“Come on. We’ll get you something to eat,” Joshua said, and got up from the sofa. “I should’ve thought about that.”
I followed him out of the living room, trying to keep the weight off my injured foot. Joshua noticed and wrapped an arm around my waist. He picked me up, pressing my body against his chest. I let out an embarrassing squeak. I leaned my head against his shoulder, wondering if he could feel the heat of my cheeks through his shirt. I could feel his warmth. His skin smelled of the forest, and I had to stop myself from burying my nose in his neck. It felt strange to be this close to someone who wasn’t a member of my family.
He carried me through the hall and into a huge kitchen. At its centre was a long, wooden table that could have seated at least eight people. Joshua put me down on my feet and let go of my waist. My skin tingled where it had been pressed against him.
I spotted apples in a bowl and froze. It had been years since I’d had an apple. I tried to remember how it tasted. Joshua followed my gaze and a grin spread across his face. He grabbed an apple and threw it in my direction. I caught it in my outstretched hands. One side was yellow-green, the other a deep red. Reverently, I brought it to my mouth. Mmm, the scent. Like summer and freedom and happiness.
The first bite tasted like heaven. Juicy and sweet. So good. The second bite was even better. I shut my eyes. The taste of apple – another thing to add to the list of things I’d missed over the last 1,141 days.
1,123 days since I’d had an apple – until now.
“There are apple trees growing in the garden behind the house. Karen and Larry gather them and store them in the basement, or make sauce.”
I smiled in embarrassment, because I’d eaten the apple like a savage. Only the stem had survived my hunger.
Joshua opened the fridge and smirked at me over his shoulder. “Apples aren’t the only things that grow in the garden.” He turned around, his arms full of tomatoes and red peppers. My stomach growled and we both laughed. This small flicker of normality, of happiness, felt so damn good. Joshua fetched a packet of spaghetti from one of the cupboards.
“Where do you get the pasta?”
He filled a pot with water and put it on the stove. “On my hunts I search houses and stores. Sometimes I find something. In the beginning it was easier. Now there’s less food, but at least we’ve got running water.”
“Didn’t you have it before?” I asked.
“The water pipes were broken. Geoffrey and Larry built a water pump and connected it to some of the intact pipes. Most of the time it works.”
While the pasta cooked, we made a sauce with the tomatoes and peppers, then settled at the table. Joshua was a decent cook.
475 days since I’d had pasta – spaghetti with some convenience meatball sauce. Better than what came the following 474 days. Stale oatmeal, beans every way, meat out of a can. Nothing I ever wanted to eat again. Nothing in comparison to this – not even close. This was like Grandma’s cooking, like my other life on a fork. Fresh and spicy and alive. The pleasant sourness of tomatoes, the heat of cayenne, the light sweetness of the red peppers, with a big slick of peppery green olive oil.
That was food. I emptied my plate in mere minutes, not caring if I looked like an animal. Afterwards, I leaned back, sated and relaxed. Footsteps on the floor above reminded me of the other inhabitants of Safe-haven. I hadn’t even thought of them. Maybe they were hungry.
“Where are the others? Shouldn’t we have asked them to eat with us?”
Joshua shook his head before he swallowed his last bite of pasta. “No, they don’t eat this late. Marie and Emma will be in their room. And Larry’s probably trying to get the radio receiver working again.”
“And Tyler?” I asked.
His expression brightened. “Karen told you about everyone, didn’t she?”
“Well, she mentioned names, not much more,” I replied with a small shrug.
“Tyler’s likely somewhere in the vineyard, stargazing or something like that. He likes to stroll around.
Some of us don’t sleep well.” He trailed off. A few strands of his blond hair fell over his eyes.
“And you? Do you sleep well?” I blurted before I could stop myself.
He didn’t lift his head but he glanced up briefly. The look in his eyes sent shivers down my back. “No. If possible I try not to sleep at all.”
“Why?”
I could have slapped myself. He stood abruptly from his chair, almost causing it to topple over. He gathered our plates, carried them over to the sink and washed them hastily, before drying them off. I sat unmoving on my chair and watched him. I bit my lower lip, wishing I’d just kept my mouth shut.
“It’s late and we need to set out early. I’ll show you to one of the free rooms,” he said as he walked out of the kitchen. To my surprise, he waited for me in the hall and supported me with an arm around the shoulder, but he didn’t try to carry me. The touch felt distant – guarded. As if my words had built a wall between us.
We walked awkwardly up the stairs together and he opened a door to our right. Quiet conversation carried over to us from one of the other rooms, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. A man and a woman were talking. Karen and her husband?
“That’s your room.” He stepped aside so I could enter.
I took a few hesitant steps into the room before I turned to him. He was already closing the door.
“I’m sorry for being curious. It just slipped out and it’s been a while since I’ve talked to anyone apart from my family.” The words bubbled out of my mouth in a rush. I sounded like an idiot.
Joshua shook his head without looking at me. “I just don’t like to talk about it.” He looked to the floor. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it one day.”
“Okay.” I shifted from one foot to the other. God, I must look awkward.
He ran his hand through his hair. “Goodnight then.” He turned around.
“Um, Joshua?”
He glanced over his shoulder with a barely disguised grin. “Hmm?”
“I was just wondering where your room is.”
Joshua’s eyebrows shot up. He probably thought I was a stalker.
“Just in case anything happens, you know. I’m not used to being alone at night. In the bunker there was always someone around.” And Weepers couldn’t get in there. I shut my mouth and felt my face heat even more.
He’d given up hiding his smile. “It’s across the corridor. Wake me if you need help.”
I don’t think I managed to hide my relief. “Thanks.” There were so many things I wanted to thank him for. For saving me, for saying he’d look for my dad, for being there for me.
I think he saw it all in my eyes.
He gave a small nod. “Get some sleep.”
The door fell shut.
Silence. The darkness seemed to creep through the windows and right into me. I felt so cold. Inside and out. My hands began to shake; light vibrations starting in my fingertips and spreading through my body like ice. An owl hooted outside. A sound like a lament.
Four hours had passed since I’d seen Dad. Six hours since I’d said goodbye to Mom, Bobby, Mia and Grandma. They were hungry. Worried. Scared.
And I had eaten pasta and talked with Joshua. I dragged myself over to the bed and sank down. Tears sprang to my eyes. They trickled over my cheeks and lips, covering the sweet taste of tomatoes and peppers with their bitter saltiness. Selfish and despicable – that’s what I was. I sniffed, trying to get a grip. I’d seldom cried in the three years in the bunker. I wouldn’t start now.
Enough. Be strong.
I looked down at myself – covered in blood and dirt. My stomach churned at the sight of it. The worst thing: the blood on the jeans wasn’t my own. It was Dad’s. How badly had the Weepers hurt him? There had been so much blood on the floor in the store.
This had to go. Immediately. Shower. I needed a shower. I opened the door and peeked out. The hall was deserted. But where was the bathroom? I should have asked Joshua.
A howl rang out in the distance.
It wasn’t an owl this time. I froze, my heart beginning to pound frantically in my chest.
Another howl.
Closer this time.
They were close by.
Steps made me jump. A scream stuck in my throat as I spun around to face my attacker. My widened eyes focused on Karen, who was coming up the stairs. She smiled when she saw me, but then she noticed the look on my face.
“What’s wrong?”
I let out a shaky breath. “I heard a howl.”
Karen’s brows dipped down in worry. Another howl carried over to us. I couldn’t tell if it was closer than before. Relief registered on her face. “Don’t worry. Coyotes, they’re harmless.”
“Not Weepers?” I hated how my voice shook.
“No, they don’t come near Safe-haven. They prefer the cities. You’re okay.” She patted my arm gently. “Were you looking for something?”
My pulse slowed. “Yes, I need to clean myself and my clothes.” I gestured to the blood and dirt covering me.
Her gaze swept over me. “Yes. I guess you’re right. The bathroom is the last door on the left. You can take a shower if you like. There’s enough water.” She considered my clothes with a shake of her head. “I don’t think your clothes can be saved and Joshua won’t let you go with him tomorrow smelling of blood. I’ll ask Marie if she’s got something for you. I think she’s your size.”
“Thank you.”
She waved a dismissive hand at me. “No need to thank me, Sherry. We need to stick together. Now go take a shower.”
The room was small, with only a shower, washbasin and toilet. At least it didn’t have mint-green tiles like the bathroom in our bunker. I locked the door and undressed hastily. The water was hot, almost scalding, and I washed the blood from my body. It tinged the water rusty red with swirls and streaks. Red on white – like art. The scent of the shower gel made my mouth water – vanilla and peach. Better than soap, or nothing at all.
426 days since I’d washed my hair with shampoo.
It felt so damn good. I dried myself off and wrapped a towel around myself. Though I’d tried to keep my injured foot away from the water, the bandage was sodden. It stuck to my skin, the shower gel stinging in my wounds.
A knock made me jump.
I tiptoed towards the door and opened it a crack. A young woman with short blonde hair, the length of matchsticks at most, stood in front of me. She smiled tentatively and held a pile of folded clothes out.
“Thanks,” I mumbled with a shy smile.
“I’m Marie,” she introduced herself. “You’re younger than I expected.”
“I’m Sherry.” I bit my lip. “I’m fifteen.”
Her eyes grew round. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” At least I wasn’t the only one who blushed.
I shook my head hastily. “No, you didn’t. You’re younger than I thought too. Karen mentioned that you’ve got a daughter…”
She laughed. “I’m twenty-two. My daughter turned two a few weeks ago.”
Her daughter had been born in a bunker? Apparently, I didn’t hide my surprise very well.
“I got pregnant when I was in the shelter.” Her voice was quiet. Barely a whisper.
Finally she cleared her throat and gave me a weak smile. “I don’t want to keep you awake. From what I’ve heard, you need your sleep for tomorrow. Good luck.”
I closed the door silently, then slipped into the underwear and black T-shirt she’d given me. The towel wrapped around my waist, I hurried back to my room.
More howls disrupted the silence. Only coyotes. They were probably looking for food around Safe-haven. Maybe garbage. I was safe for now. Not for long, though.
Shivers crawled over my back when I thought of tomorrow. We’d collect my family from the bunker. We’d find Dad and save him from the Weepers. Then everything would be okay. I shut my eyes, but images of snarling faces with teary eyes and shredded skin kept flashing in my mind.
&n
bsp; “You’re worse than Nanna, and she’s eighty. Hurry up, or the beach will be crowded,” Izzy urged.
Yeah, right, we wouldn’t lose a spot just because of a few minutes. Lately, the presence of the military had scared away most beach-goers.
I unlocked the front door and rushed up the stairs. On the last step I froze. There were noises. Moans.
Mom and Dad.
“Eww!”
The noises stopped and footsteps rang out. Shit! Dad stepped into the hall, his belt open and hair dishevelled.
Please let the ground swallow me. I waited.
“Oh, Sherry, it’s you…”
“I just forgot my sunglasses.” I looked anywhere but at his face.
“Sure, sure. Get them.” Dad shifted on his feet, still holding his trousers up, his ears and neck beet-red.
Beyond awkward.
At least he wasn’t naked. That would have been the icing on the mortification cake.
“Uhh… I’ll just get them and then I’m gone. I won’t be back until later, so…umm. Bye.”
I’ve never run the distance to my room and back out of the front door so fast.
Thoughts of finding Dad’s mangled body had kept me awake most of the night, but when I did sleep, nightmares of hunched shadows and weeping monsters had haunted me. Just after I’d drifted off for the last time, a knock jerked me awake. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Another knock. Louder this time.
“It’s almost morning. Get up!” Joshua’s shout must have woken the entire house.
“I’m awake!” I shouted back. I scrambled out of bed and winced when my right foot touched the floor. It wasn’t as bad as yesterday, but it still hurt. Maybe Karen had painkillers. I slipped into Marie’s jeans. Running my fingers through my hair for want of a brush, I walked to the door and opened it. Joshua wasn’t there.
I checked the corridor – empty. He’d probably lost patience and gone downstairs. Well, it wasn’t like I needed a babysitter. Pushing thoughts of him out of my head, I hurried into the bathroom. My reflection made me grimace. My hair was a matted mess and there were grey bags under my eyes. I looked like the living dead.
The Other Life Page 6
