For a few hours, James just lay there on his bedding, eyes closed. He wasn’t totally conscious, but drifting through the realm of half-sleep where every little noise brought him fully awake again. After one such disturbance, he realized he had to pee.
James carefully made his way around the counter, and past the horses. The beasts were likely to relieve themselves inside. James didn’t feel comfortable doing that. He paused at the front windows and peered out. The moonlit crossroads were as empty as when they had first arrived. Looking up at the sky, James could see that a few wisps of cloud were starting to move in from the east, blocking out parts of the explosion of stars overhead. Maybe they would get some rain on their travels. Even just a short break from the relentless sun sounded great, whether it brought rain or not, so hopefully the wisps turned into actual clouds by morning.
After waiting a minute without seeing or hearing anything outside, James slipped out through the door. He limped over to the corner of the building. If someone else woke up, they should be able to see him through the window without seeing his junk. It was the most privacy James would allow himself. Had he needed to empty his bowels, he wasn’t sure exactly where he’d do it, and was glad that it was a non-issue for the time being.
After pissing onto the dust and leaves that had accumulated at the base of the building, James zipped up and located the nearest, non-poisonous plant on which to wipe his hands. As he stood back upright, James heard a slight scraping sound behind him, like a boot on the pavement.
Instead of wheeling around, James threw back his elbow. If it had been a zombie, he would have likely knocked it over. But it was not a zombie. A human had been behind him, a very fast and intelligent one who seemed to be expecting the blow. James’ elbow was caught at the same moment his bad foot was kicked out from under him. He opened his mouth to scream, to warn the others, but instead got a taste of fabric as a rag was shoved between his jaws. James screamed anyway, hoping someone might hear the muffled sound. Since he was off balance, it was easy for his attacker to bring him all the way down to the ground, his stomach meeting the road. Before James could fight to get the knees off his back, he felt the cold muzzle of a pistol placed against the back of his head. James went still, and held his hands out in submission. Perhaps this was someone who could be reasoned with. They could’ve just shot him outright, after all.
15: Dakota
6 Days After the Bombing
Dakota would have liked to spend more time on the wall with Elijah, but the sun had set. She was told that she wasn’t allowed to stay up there once it got dark, and she wasn’t about to risk disobeying and losing her newly given privileges. If Freya decided that Dakota wasn’t responsible enough to use a sling, then it would be given to someone else.
“Thanks for the company,” Elijah said after Dakota explained that she had to go.
“Thanks for the zombie killing lesson.” Immediately, she thought she should have said something else, but there was no way to take her words back.
“See you around.”
“Yeah, see you.” Dakota carried his food container along with her plate, figuring she might as well bring it back to the community centre now, so that he wouldn’t have to when his shift was over.
Back down on the ground, she felt buoyant, like she might start skipping at any moment. Skipping sounded incredibly lame though, so she resisted the urge. Still, she had gotten to talk to Elijah! She had learned his name and that he was only three years older than her! Three years wasn’t that much, was it? She knew adults who were together who had far greater age gaps between them. Becky’s foster parents for instance, were separated by more than ten years, as far as Dakota could tell.
Stupid, get your head out of the clouds, Dakota chastised herself. Elijah wouldn’t be interested in a ridiculous fifteen-year-old like her. The difference between fifteen and eighteen was greater than that between forty and fifty. And besides, Dakota was awkward, and had a weird smile, and practically no boobs compared to the other girls around her age. She wasn’t attractive like Josephine, or funny like Terry. She was just Dakota, the girl with the cowboy hat.
Upon reaching the community centre, she returned the dishes. By the time she walked back outside, she didn’t know what to do with herself. She was too wired to go to bed, and she didn’t feel like tidying up her container again, especially if Cameron was already there, for she would ask questions that Dakota didn’t want to answer.
“Dakota?”
She startled, thinking Cameron had found her anyway. But when she turned, it was only Riley.
“Sorry,” she apologized for startling her. “You were pretty lost in thought, I guess.”
“It’s okay. I was just trying to think of something to do. I’m not ready to sleep yet.”
“I was about to inventory another box of medical supplies if you’d like to help.”
Dakota shrugged. “Sure, why not.” She followed the doctor back into the community centre.
Riley explained that she had been inventorying one box a night, when she had a bit of time and there wasn’t really anyone in the community centre to get in the way.
“My stitches tend to get itchy around this time,” she said as she chose that night’s box and they found seats. “I like to have something to occupy my hands and mind.”
Dakota couldn’t help but feel sorry for Riley, and not just because of her recent surgery. Although the teenager knew in the conscious levels of her mind that it wasn’t her fault, her subconscious still wanted to take the blame for Riley’s husband’s death. The night the Diana sank, Dakota, Hope, and Peter had been separated from their minders and ended up alone in a room instead of going to the evacuation points. They could have been burned to death that night, or at least died of smoke inhalation, if it weren’t for Mathias locating them. In order to rescue the children, he had to throw them all over the side of the ship, into the sea, and then jumped in after them. When a life raft was finally picking them up, Mathias was taken by a shark. Dakota didn’t see it. All she knew was that one minute he was about to get into the raft, and the next he was gone. No matter what anyone said, not even Dakota to herself, she kept thinking that if she had just taken charge, if she had just led Hope and Peter to one of the evacuation points, none of that would have happened. Hope would still have her dad and Riley would still have her husband. It wasn’t often that the guilt twisted itself around her guts, but it had been happening more frequently ever since Riley had had her surgery. She was forced to go through that without Mathias to comfort her. And if Riley had died, Hope would then have no parents.
“So what has you so deep in thought?” Riley finally asked.
Dakota shrugged. “Just stuff.”
“Stuff, huh? Any of this stuff something you need to talk about with someone who isn’t Cameron or Brunt?”
“No.”
“I see you have one of Freya’s slings,” she changed topics. “Are you enjoying your lessons with her?”
This was the kind of question Dakota had expected to be asked by Cameron, and was exactly why she hadn’t gone home yet. “I guess,” she answered, trying not to sigh about her ill luck.
But Riley was different from Cameron in that she stopped pushing for answers when she saw Dakota didn’t want to talk. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to tell her twin, however, and Dakota would have to have a similar conversation later.
It didn’t take long to inventory the box of supplies. When they finished, Riley thanked her for her help, and went to check on the few patients who still slept on cots in the community centre.
Back outside, Dakota made her way through the moonlight. She took a circuitous route back to her container, avoiding as many people as she could. It had been a very strange day, and she attempted to organize her thoughts. It wasn’t as easy as organizing the medical supplies had been when placing them back in their box. Her thoughts and feelings about how well her meeting with Elijah had gone were especially conflicted. She didn’t
really want to bring herself down, but she also couldn’t let herself get her hopes up too high.
She thought about Elijah’s shoulder against the back of her own, his arm practically around her as he helped hold the spear. His skin had been very warm.
Entering her home, Dakota found that Cameron wasn’t back yet, but Brunt was.
“I hear you killed your first zombie today,” he said by way of greeting.
“Yeah.” Dakota didn’t really want to talk about it with him. She didn’t want to bring up Elijah for fear that Brunt would somehow pick up on her feelings for the eighteen-year-old.
“Great job.” Brunt was smiling. “I’m proud of you.”
His words shocked Dakota somewhat. She hadn’t been expecting them. She couldn’t remember anyone ever telling her before that she had made them feel proud.
“Thanks,” Dakota said, not knowing how else to respond.
“How do you feel about it?”
“I don’t know,” Dakota shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”
“You grew up with zombies, so I suppose it’s different for you. You understand what you’re doing, that the woman was already dead.”
“Yeah.”
“I know a lot of people who didn’t get to have that comforting knowledge beforehand.” Brunt had never really talked to Dakota much about the Day, especially not in personal terms.
“I guess it was a lot harder for you guys, huh?”
“Some. I mean, I worked for Keystone so I had some idea about what was going on. Still, it wasn’t exactly normalized like it is now. No matter what you tell yourself, you’re still seeing a person at that point, ya know?”
“I guess so.” Dakota thought it must have been a little like her guilt. It didn’t matter what thoughts the logical side of the brain produced, the emotional side was going to feel what it was going to feel.
“But yeah, I’m proud of you,” Brunt told her again as he snapped out of his own reverie. “You weren’t too scared, were you?”
“No. I was safe on the wall, and had a guard with me.”
“Yeah, Elijah mentioned that you were pretty cool about the whole thing.”
Elijah said I was pretty cool? Dakota’s brain nearly stalled out.
“He said that you’d probably make a good wall guard if that’s what you wanted to do.”
“I don’t know.” Dakota hoped her voice didn’t betray her humming nerves. “I have to finish training before deciding anything like that. Bronislav has a plan for us.”
“Between you, me, and the walls, I’m not sure how much of a plan it is. I think he just wants to make sure all you kids are ready should something else bad come our way while we’re split up and weakened like this.”
“Maybe.” But Dakota didn’t believe that. She felt certain that Bronislav was going to continue to put them to use even after a planting field was made ready. “I’m pretty tired. I should get to bed.”
“Right, of course. You have another day of training tomorrow.”
Dakota changed behind the privacy screen. While she was climbing onto the top bunk, Cameron returned. She was exhausted; apparently it had been sheep shearing day, and the sheep had been very uncooperative. It meant that she didn’t want to talk to anyone, just sleep, which suited Dakota just fine.
Her mind chased itself in circles around the day’s events until it couldn’t remain conscious any longer.
***
Freya and Bronislav kept Dakota very busy. She had to jog before breakfast, and then practice her knife technique afterward. Her blade glinted in the sunlight. She had been trusted with the sharp implement several years ago, but this was the first time she had ever been given permission to stab something. Sure, it was only an old plastic buoy, one that had become so cracked as to be useless for anything else, but it was something.
Lunch was eaten with all the other trainees, gathered together in a cluster before the one blackboard in the community centre that wasn’t covered in names, tasks, and locations. Bronislav walked them through various scenarios that could occur outside the wall, and how they should attempt to respond to each one. It was interesting that he himself used the word attempt, for he understood that they were unlikely to end up in such neatly organized situations, and that emotions sometimes made it difficult to remember lessons taught in such a calm environment. Freya translated everything Bronislav said into sign language. It was a nice refresher for Dakota, and probably helped the new kids learn.
After what was the closest thing they got to a school lesson lately, Freya took Dakota and the other chosen teens to practice with their slings. They were getting better, but to Dakota, it still seemed like they hit things more by luck than skill. At least the majority of the stones had all gone in the right direction: fewer than a handful released way too early, way too late, or gone off ridiculously far to either side. Dakota had looked for Elijah up on the wall when they approached their practice area, as well as every time they had to gather their stones and when Freya stopped them all to give an individual a piece of advice. She never saw him though.
Of course not, he has to watch outward, not inward, Dakota told herself. Or alternatively, why would he care what you’re doing? And sometimes she simply thought, maybe he’s stationed at a different part of the wall today. She tried to keep these thoughts from interfering with learning how to sling stones, but that was something easier said than done.
After the slinging lessons, Freya had them practice their co-operative hunting skills. She herself was the target, and all the group had to do was touch her with just one hand. Even though there were six of them, this seemed like an impossible task. Freya was fast, and even when they managed to surround her, she slipped past their fingers as though repelled from them by magnets. She also had a lot more stamina, or was otherwise much better at hiding her exhaustion. After she had called a halt to the game, and gathered her pursuers to her, she explained all the things they had done wrong. Dakota was embarrassed by some of their missteps, especially the ones committed by her personally.
Dinner went the same way as it had the previous night. Dakota was given a stack of food containers to deliver to the guards along the wall. She chose the same spot as last time, hoping to get to sit with Elijah again. But it was not to be. He wasn’t anywhere along the same stretch as before, but Brunt was. He was the second person she came across, and so, after delivering the rest of the meals, she returned to eat with him.
“You look like you’re about ready to drop dead,” Brunt commented. “What did Bronislav have you doing today?”
“A group of us had to try to catch Freya.” Dakota took her hat off in the shade of the containers cast by the lowering sun. Both she and the hat were quite sweaty. Was that good or bad for her pimples? She couldn’t remember.
“So you were given an impossible task, huh?” Brunt chuckled.
“Pretty much. There were six of us, and yet we still couldn’t tag her even once.”
“Don’t feel bad about it. I don’t think even Misha’s dogs could catch that woman.”
“Where do you think they are right now?”
“The dogs? I don’t know. Enough time has passed for them to have reached the Black Box by now. They could already be on their way back, depending on what it’s like over there, and what kind of obstacles they may have run into along the way. You worried?”
“No, just curious.”
“They could be back any day now, if everything went smoothly.”
“Do you think things went smoothly?”
“I’m not going to lie; they very likely came across a number of things that could slow them down. We don’t know what that mega horde has done to the landscape out there.”
“When will people start worrying about them?”
“There are some people who are worried about them already. Cameron, for one. She’s been worried since the moment they all left.”
“Yeah, but I mean, when will people start worrying that too much time has passed? When sh
ould we start thinking that something really bad happened to them?”
“Not for a while yet. The group that went over to the Black Box is very capable. They can handle just about anything that comes their way.” Brunt placed his hand on Dakota’s shoulder in an attempt at a comforting gesture.
They didn’t talk much after that, just watched the space between the wall and the unchecked containers. There were no zombies that night.
The next morning started the same as the previous, with Dakota and the others running laps around the container yard. Freya kept ahead of the group, setting the pace, while Bronislav hung back to monitor and encourage the youngest ones who couldn’t keep up. The only difference was the tendrils of gauzy clouds that occasionally blocked some of the sunlight. By breakfast, however, plans had to change.
The only man who knew how to read the weather signs well enough to predict anything ahead of time, had gone with one of the envoy groups. As such, they had no warning before the wall of dark clouds was spotted on the horizon, and no way of knowing how bad such a storm might be. Rain was often a blessing, but it could also mean their death if they weren’t prepared. If they were ever directly hit by a hurricane, they could all be easily washed away. It was generally thought that the last storm that hit, the one that came before all the attacks, was the edge of a major storm that had made landfall elsewhere. If they were lucky, this would skirt around them as well.
“All right, kids,” Bronislav’s voice boomed as he walked over to his blackboard. Those who hadn’t yet finished their breakfast were quick to shovel it down. “Today you’re to be given your first assignment, and it’s a very important one. You’re all going to help button this place down before the storm hits us. You up for it?”
There was a lot of enthusiastic nodding as some replied “yes, sir!”
“Excellent. Here’s what we need to do.”
Dakota’s first task was to gather some rebar from a stockpile they kept in one of the containers that made up the second layer of the wall. As she went up there, she noticed there were far fewer guards on duty than usual. Bronislav had pulled some of them to help with other tasks that needed doing before the storm came.
Survival Instinct (Book 5): Social Instinct Page 23
