by K. M. Raya
Falling asleep is useless as I stare vacantly up at the wooden beams stretching over the low ceiling. It's musty in here, and the sound of Nina’s famous snoring is getting to me. I’m exhausted, both physically and mentally, but my thoughts just keep whirling.
Ret rolls over, facing me with her hands under her cheek. “You can be honest, you know,” she whispers.
Rolling my head to the side, I raise an eyebrow at the blunt woman. “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” she insists, lifting up until she’s leaning on one arm. Her chocolate hair falls over her shoulder and makes her look more delicate than I realized. “I believe your story about the trappers, but there’s more to it, isn’t there?”
Sighing, I adjust the way I’m laying, feeling overexposed, so I pull the old moth-eaten blanket higher. “It’s nothing, just forget it.”
“Doesn’t seem like nothing.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I just don’t want to get into it right now, ever think of that?”
“Listen,” she says softly, reaching out a hand and laying it on my shoulder. I don’t pull away, because she’s just trying to be nice. “If something bad happened to you, it’s okay to talk about it. I’m not going to force anything out of you, but if you know something important that you’re not saying… you gotta warn us at least.”
“Just let it…” My words are cut short when the ground rumbles overhead and little grains of dust rain down on us. Beretta leaps to her feet and I scramble to do the same. “What the fuck is that?”
Beretta throws a canteen, hitting Dante in the face, but he hops off the couch, looking bleary eyed but alert. “What the hell, Ret?”
“Get up, something’s happening.”
The others are waking up now, and I rush to Missy’s side. “Missy, wake up, something's here.” She jolts up, glancing at a still sleeping Nina before looking at me.
Her eyes are wide, and her hand shakes. “Please tell me it’s not…”
Shaking my head, I will her not to finish that sentence. I can’t even think about that. The thought nearly paralyzes me with cold, stark fear. It can’t be them. It just can’t. We zigzagged our way through Texas and most of Utah without them catching up, what are the chances they’ve found us in this middle of nowhere town?
The thought of them finding me after all these months makes me frantic. The memory of those cold iron bars still haunt my dreams, and the nights of listening to nothing but endless moans, just waiting for the day they chose me… I can’t go back to that again. I might be a tough bitch, but no one's that resilient.
The ceiling above shakes again, this time accompanied by rumbling and revving engines. I can hear them above, circling around the property, searching for any sign of us. The fog makes it harder to see, but trappers are experts at tracking, and we left that suv right out in the open behind the barn. It’s only a matter of time until they figure out where we are.
“What the fuck’s going on up there?!” yells Alex. He’s strapping his gear on, and I follow suit, as do the others. He turns to me, pointing an accusing finger in my direction. “What did you do!”
“Stop talking!” I whisper-yell. “If they hear us down here, we’re done.”
“They? They, who?” he seethes.
“The fucking trappers, okay?”
Alex blanches, and the others stop to stare at me too. “What are trappers doing out here, did you lead them to us?”
Rolling my eyes as his drama, I shove my mask on my face, preparing to make a run for it. Anubis is already posted up at the door at the staircase, ready to defend us if someone decides to investigate this cellar. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m pretty sure these guys are responsible for burning down the Costco, they must have tracked us from Texas without us noticing.”
Wyatt shakes his head in bewilderment. “Why would they burn down an entire warehouse?” He grabs me by the arm and pulls me up close. “What the fuck did you do to piss them off?”
“If this is really trapper territory, they probably took what they needed from the warehouse storage. It was pretty empty in there, and I haven't noticed any signs of them in this town, so I thought we were safe… but they’re getting sneakier…”
“So what do we do?” asks Beretta. “Is there a way to outrun them?”
Stopping, I hoist my pack on, and make sure my crossbow is locked and loaded. “If we’re fast. Very, fucking fast.” Peeking over at Anubis, I see he’s starting to pace, growling at the top hatch. We have seconds to decide what to do. “Guys, I know you don’t trust me yet, but I’m telling you, we have to move now. These guys aren’t fucking around.”
“Why don’t tell us the real story then, Hell? Please enlighten us, and no bullshit about not being ready to talk about it. What do you know?”
“Right now all I know is if we don’t leave right fucking now, we’re all going to die.”
Chapter ☣ 7
Alex
I can’t believe we let ourselves get pulled into this situation. We were doing perfectly fucking fine before Helana and the girl squad showed up. We were fine. Running under the radar… hadn’t encountered a single soul in at least a month.
All this business about these so-called trappers is almost beyond belief. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Down in Mexico, there wouldn’t have been enough survivors left to form the type of group Hell’s talking about. The bombs and the fog killed over ninety-seven percent of America’s population, and I don’t even know about the rest of the world. You can pass entire cities without seeing anyone living.
The fog wasn’t meant to spare anyone. Whoever created it intended it to have the absolute highest kill rate of any weapon ever seen, and in that regard, they succeeded. But the fog isn’t necessarily just a gas. It’s too thick. It feels like gas, and looks like fog, but the particles are too dense to filter in past a closed door without substantial wind. It traveled down city streets unencumbered and remained stagnant throughout storms, rains and winds for a year before we saw any kind of dissipation.
As we scramble to pack our shit, we strap on the gas masks that what was left of our military so kindly dropped for us. Without them, we’d never be able to leave our underground or indoor bunkers. I almost envy Helana’s dog. It must be nice to have a natural immunity to the noxious substance and walk around freely. I can’t even remember what it felt like to take a deep lungful of crisp morning air. It’s a distant memory now, and thinking about it only depresses me more.
Engines rumble overhead, and it’s only a matter of time until these crazy assholes find the hatch. Dante’s helping the poor helpless injured girl, while the rest of us grab bags of supplies and weapons. I check all pockets and holsters, making sure my firearms are all accounted for, all the while glaring at the back of Hell’s silky blonde head as she straps on her quiver of arrows and tests the string on her crossbow. She looks like a fucking idiot wielding that bright pink monstrosity. How is anyone supposed to ever take her seriously looking like that?
I just snort, shaking my head. Helana whips around, narrowing her eyes on me. I can’t see her lips from beneath her gas mask, but I’m guessing she’s sneering at me. “Do we have a problem?”
“Is that a serious question?” I bend down, picking up the old paperback I was reading earlier and shove it into my pack. Her eyes follow the motion.
“I wasn’t aware cavemen could read.”
“I wasn’t aware Barbies could talk,” I snap. This time, her golden eyes blaze even brighter. “Come on princess, why don’t you lead us to safety...” Gesturing towards the top hatch, I move aside for her to take point.
Huffing, she breezes past me, whistling for her dog as she ascends the stairs. When she gets to the top, she turns. I see her make eye contact with Wyatt, whose eyes barely leave her in the first place. “You have the keys?”
“Got em,” he holds them out in f
ront of him and jingles them a bit.
Hell nods. “Right. So when we get out there, run for the car. Get in, no matter where you sit, just get low and away from the windows. These people are insane, and they’ll just shoot us if they feel threatened. Got it?”
The others shake their heads, and I just watch her with my jaw clenched so tight my gums are probably bleeding. This chick thinks she’s such a badass. She thinks she has what it takes to lead, but she doesn’t understand shit. I did three years in Afghanistan before I got wounded and discharged. My leg still doesn’t bend right. But I got that wound by protecting men who would have died otherwise. She doesn’t know shit about combat or about real stakes. But I’ll let her pretend a while longer. It won't be long before her and her friends are sneaking away, never to be seen again, just like everyone else.
Helana opens the hatch and jumps out, followed by Wyatt, Missy, the dog and then me. Dante brings up the rear with Nina in his arms. I almost feel bad for him, having to risk his life for the sake of a stranger. As soon as we step out, it’s nothing but chaos. The fog isn’t as thick out here as it is in the city, but there's dust in the air, kicked up by the tires on the trapper trucks. I can see them going in circles, with around twenty staggering zoms in the center. The trucks are covered in barbed wire. There are giant metal cages attached to the beds, and some of them already have zoms in them. Their hands stick out between the bars, frantically grasping at nothing while they fall over and writhe against each other.
“Get in the fucking car!” Helana yells over the booming sound of engines.
The doors are open, and we’re all filing in as fast as possible. Dante jumps in front, keeping Nina on his lap before slamming the door shut. Wyatt gets in the driver's seat while I hurl myself into the back seat. I collide hard with Hell as she leaps through the other side, but Wyatt’s already pulling the car away. Hell’s door is open, and when she comes up on her knee to climb in further, we hit a divet and she bounces, slamming into the seat in front of her before slipping backwards.
I hear her shriek, as her hands grasp the seat. Missy and Ret both shout from behind and Anubis barks as he tries to get over the back seat from the trunk. “Shit!” I scramble, rolling onto my knees and grasping onto her hands as they slip. Her door is flapping around and her nails latch onto my skin. “Hold the fuck on!” I yell at her, as if she’s doing literally anything else.
Wyatt can’t stop, because behind us are the floodlights of a truck right on our heels. One of the trapper trucks is coming after us, and if we stop, it’s over. Wyatt zigzags through what used to be a cornfield, making the suv bounce wildly. Helana can’t get fully inside, and it’s a miracle her legs haven’t been crushed. My hands grip hers tight, and my palms bleed.
Pull!” she yells. “Pull me in… I’m slipping!”
Just then, through an outcropping of dead corn stalks, we smash right into a group of zoms. We blow through them and they splatter over the front windshield. “What the fuck, Wyatt!” I scream at him.
Next thing I know, Helana screams again. She’s slipping further now, but there’s not much we can do with the car bouncing around like this. I can’t even count the number of times my head has slammed into the ceiling. If I can’t get her in soon, she’s going to slip through my fingers.
Chapter ☣ 8
Hell
My hands are slipping, and my fingernails are burning as I grip onto Alex. My heart is hammering, and I can hear Anubis barking and whining from the back of the car.
The car is bouncing around, and hitting every single hole in the ground due to the fact that we had to drive at full speed though a soggy cornfield. I feel like I won’t be able to hold on for much longer. “Alex, just let go, the car’s going to tip!” I can feel it lifting on the other side, tipping towards me as the back door swings wildly and gets caught in the dead corn stalks every time we turn. If we don’t shut it soon, the suv might roll. I don’t want to die, but if this car tips because of me, so will everyone else.
“Fuck you, I’m not letting go!” he yells back. His hands are bloody, and every muscle in his arms and wrists are straining as he brings his legs in front of him to brace against the seat. “When I count to three, I want you to throw yourself forward!”
“Hurry!” yells Wyatt from the front.
Alex leans back, feet on either side of the door, one on the back of the seat, and the other on the doorframe. “One. Two. Three!”
“Fuck!” I scream as he practically pulls my arm out of the socket. Using all the force I have left in my body, I hurl myself forward as he pulls. I see hands reaching out from over the back seat and look up just in time to mee Missy’s head slam into the ceiling, but Ret grabs my shirt collar. I fly back into the car, toppling over Alex and we fall onto the seat. Wyatt jerks the car to the other side, and the door slams shut behind me.
I’m breathing hard, and I’m covered in sweat, trying to catch my breath, but it seems impossible with this fucking mask on. Alex’s arms are still wrapped around my shaking body, holding me to his chest as he also fights for breath. Wyatt’s driving still thrashes everyone around, but the car’s a lot steadier now. It’s almost pitch black in here, save for the glaring bright lights of the truck on our heels. So far I think there’s only one of them following us, the rest were already packed with zoms in their cages.
Raising my head, I pull back a little, suddenly clashing eyes with Alex. He stares back blankly, but his eyes seem to be flitting over my face rapidly, but it’s hard to tell for sure in the dark. His arms loosen as if it just occurred to him that he’s holding onto me. “Are you done trying to kill me?”
Huffing, I slap my hands on his chest and hoist myself off him. The man can’t even do one good deed without being an ass immediately afterwards. We awkwardly scramble into sitting positions, and I’m immediately bombarded with licks to my neck and shoulder as Anubis tries to get into the middle seat with me. He’s whining, and scared, so I turn slightly, grasping my baby boy’s face between my hands and peppering him with little kisses. “Shh, shh, good boy. It’s okay now, settle.”
In response to my reassurances, Anubis calms down, and I see Missy reaching over to stroke his back and hold him steady to keep him from sliding around back there. I turn back to the front and look to Wyatt. “Is this fucking cornfield ever going to end?”
“I have no idea where the hell we are!” he tosses back. “We need to lose these assholes before we pop a tire!”
“We have guns, why don’t we just shoot em?” asks Alex, already reaching for one of his weapons.
Shaking my head, I shove his hand away from his bag. “Don’t be stupid. That’s exactly what the trappers want. But if we shoot, they’ll shoot back, and even if we do get away, they’ll track us down.”
“How the fuck do you even know that? If we waste their asses, there'll be no one to track us!” Alex argues.
“I just know! Trust me, Alex. They have more people than you realize, and their operation grows with every group they pick up. You take them down, the others will just follow.” My eyes hold his. “I’m not lying about this. I get it, you don’t trust me, but I wouldn’t lie about something like this. They catch us… we’re dead. They won’t even offer us amnesty.”
Alex slams his fist into the seat in front of him. “God dammit! This is why we should have left your asses outside that Costco. I fucking told them you’d be nothing but trouble.”
“Alex, enough!” snaps Dante from the front seat. “Give it a rest already.”
The floodlights in the rearview are getting smaller, and I think we’re actually getting away. Either that, or the trappers are regrouping. I can’t help it, as I swivel my head and stare out the back window, but wonder who’s inside it. Is it Mac, finally come for me? Do they know it’s us three in here… or is this just another hunt? I have no idea, and a part of me doesn’t want to know for sure. In the back of my head, I know there’s no way Mac just let m
e go. Not after what I did.
After a while the floodlights of the trapper truck are far behind us, and eventually disappear completely. I don’t hear the sound of approaching engines, so we slow down a little, searching through the fog for a way back onto a main road. It takes another twenty minutes of offroading before a line of fencing shows through the fog. Wyatt lets out a whoop as he speeds up, bursting right through it to hightail it down the asphalt.
☣
We make it through the next town over without trouble and a burning flame shining through the dense fog in the rearview mirror. The blaze from the Costco only got bigger, and now that I think about it, we’re lucky we got out of that cellar when we did, otherwise we might have been caught in the inevitable brushfire. I guess in a strange sort of way, the trappers did us a favor.
We’ve all been quiet for the most part, and I think a part of that is uncertainty. We barely made it out of that basement, and I think it’s dawning on us just how close we came to getting either cooked alive, or captured. How sad would that be? Surviving more than a year into the zombie freaking apocalypse only to be taken out by a brush fire…
After a solid seven hours, we’re running low on fuel. There’s a single can of it left now in the trunk area with Beretta and Anubis from when we stopped at a rundown gas station a few hours ago, but it won't get us far. I’m still not sure how long we’ll even stay with these guys, but for now I think there’s safety in numbers. We kept Nina in the front seat this time, and Wyatt’s driving again. I’m worried about my friend, her ankle is looking worse by the hour. She’s trying to act tough, but I can see the pain on her face whenever she’s not sleeping through it.
