Survive (Sundown Series Book 2)

by Courtney Konstantin

  All of Max's assumptions were based on what she had watched with Denise. There was no natural way to relate the plague to an illness already known to the world. Max knew there were nasty viruses and plagues that had wiped out large pieces of the human population throughout history. But reanimation was a fairy tale, it was Frankenstein's creature. Instead of one monster, there were thousands.

  In her musings, Max vaguely noted the absence of a sound. She came back around to focusing on the task at hand. Staring at Sarah, Max counted seconds that her chest didn't move. Shit, Max thought to herself, as she unsheathed her knife. The thought had crossed her mind at one point to end Sarah before the process finished. But a small piece of her worried she was wrong on her theories about the illness. Now looking at a dead Sarah, she knew she was right. All it took was a bite.

  Standing over the dead body, Max decided to just be sure. She pressed her fingers to Sarah's neck. Not finding a pulse, she moved her fingers to try again. Still nothing. Then she pulled up an eyelid and was grimly greeted by blackness. The process was done. All that was left was for Sarah to rise and feast on the living. Max couldn't allow that.

  Thinking of Griffin, Jack, and even Turner next door, Max did what was necessary. Pushing her knife into Sarah's temple, Max felt tears clog her throat. Pulling a sheet over Sarah's face, Max left the room to sleep for the rest of the night.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  "I want to bury her," Griffin demanded. The argument was an endless circle, that had already gone on for an hour. Max had woken with the sun, even after going to bed well into the AM hours of the morning. She wanted to break the news to Griffin without him walking in and finding her dead. She had thought they would be sad, eat breakfast, and get on the road. However, Griffin had other plans.

  "She doesn't know what you're doing for her, Griffin. We need to get on the road," Max said. She was packing things into her go bag. Without asking she had started loading items into the truck. Turner had gone to check on the father and child they had saved the day before but was surprised by an empty room. Max didn't see any other reason to stay around.

  "But it's only right. I won't leave her body to rot in this motel."

  Max groaned. She could barely handle sentimentality on a regular day. They didn't have normal days anymore. Taking time to bury a body was a normal thing to do. She looked at Griffin's face. He insisted he didn't know Sarah long, but they met at the first shelter and she had attached herself to him. Max could see he felt responsible for her and she had died while she was with them. And now Griffin thought he had failed. She took a deep breath, trying to sort through her need to follow her instincts and understand the emotional need he had.

  "Ok, ok. I give up. We'll bury her. Where do you want to do this? And we will have to go back into town for shovels," Max said. Griffin touched her arm and looked into her eyes.

  "Thank you."

  "Yeah, well I guess we could scavenge more from town anyhow. It wasn't overly looted. I'm not sure if the town just turned fast, or if people are hiding," Max said, shrugging off the thanks. Griffin didn't answer, just nodded and went back inside the motel room to tell Turner the plan. Jack exited a few moments later and came to stand next to Max, who had frozen in her loading since they weren't leaving.

  "That's a nice thing you did, Momma," Jack said.

  "What did I do?"

  "Agreeing to bury Sarah," she said quietly.

  "Well we're a group, I'm not anyone's boss. We have to agree," Max said. And she meant that. She got her wish by having Griffin accompany them to Montana. Still, she wouldn't force him to go if he decided not to.

  "I like that," the little girl smiled, a little mischief in her eyes.

  "Oh, that doesn't count, little girl. You're still a child. I get your say. So, I guess I should have two votes," Max said, putting her finger to her chin as if she were thinking. Jack laughed and pushed her mom with her shoulder.

  The trip into town was made as a group. The main street hadn't changed overnight. It was eerily still and silent. If they hadn't seen the car wrecks or knew that there had been plenty of infected nearby, it would seem like an abandoned town.

  "It's strange nothing is really looted," Turner said from the backseat.

  "Yeah. The pharmacy was basically intact when we came, except a crashed car through the front window. But the shelves were basically full. It's strange," Max replied.

  "There were shovels at the pharmacy store, Momma," Jack reminded.

  Entering the pharmacy together, Jack centered between the adults, they were silent except the scrape of shoes on the glass on the floor. Turner grabbed bags and started his apocalypse shopping. Max and Jack took Griffin to the hardware section, where he picked two shovels. After leaving those in the truck, he did some shopping for himself as well. Neither man had a pack, Max planned on fixing that as soon as possible. They need to be prepared for the chance they were separated.

  As they walked back to the truck, the sound of a shotgun pumping stopped them all. Jack was standing just to Max's left, so Max took one step back and over, to put Jack directly in front of her. The sound had come from behind her. Max looked over at Griffin who was on the passenger side of the truck, his gun was up and aimed. Max lifted her hands in a surrender gesture and slowly turned around to face the person that seemed to be pointing a shotgun at her back.

  A young man stood at the corner of the pharmacy, half hidden in the shadow of the small alley. The sun glinted off of the shotgun barrel, which was pointed directly at Max. She kept her hands in the air, using one to shield the sun slightly to get a better look at the man.

  "You're stealing from Doc," the man called out.

  "I don't see many people around that need the supplies," Max replied calmly. "How about you put the gun down and we talk about it."

  "You are thieves. Thieves should be shot," the man called back.

  "I suppose that's true. But we aren't thieves. We are surviving. Just like you are, I assume," Max said. Griffin hissed at her to be careful, as she took one small step forward. Jack knowing what her mother would expect, stepped with her, to stay hidden.

  "You know about the plague? You couldn't have missed it," Max continued.

  "The sick that walk and are eating people. Yeah, we know about that."

  "How many are left in town? We haven't seen anyone."

  "Not many. Not since the illness came," the man's voice was sad.

  "How did it come here? Did the sick just wander into town?" Max asked. She continued the conversation calmly. The man's shotgun lowered little by little as they spoke. Max continued to get closer, her hands in the open so the man wouldn't feel threatened.

  "Nah. Little Bud, he was out of town, looking at colleges, ya see. When he got home, he was sick. Big Bud, his dad, was the first I saw. Little Bud's mom, before she died, said Little Bud attacked them in the middle of the night. She escaped with just a bite. But Big Bud died in their bed," the man explained. As he spoke Max got within striking distance, his guard coming down as she distracted him with conversation. Suddenly he realized how close she was, and with a curse, he tried to swing the shotgun back at her. Simultaneously Max predicted his movements and grabbed the shotgun barrel and shoved it up in the air before yanking it from his hand. He lost his grip and stumbled forward into the sunlight.

  A moment later, Griffin was next to Max with his gun pointed at the young man and Max had flipped the shotgun to point it as well. She checked the ammo and wasn't surprised to find it loaded. The young man couldn't have been more than nineteen. He looked at his feet, whether it was fear or shame on his face, Max wasn't sure.

  "It's not nice to point guns at strangers, especially now," Max said lowly. "Especially people who have a child with them."

  "Not nice at all, my man," Griffin added.

  "Jack, get in the car with Turner please," Max said quietly. Without question, Jack turned and ran for the SUV. Max could hear whispered words pass between her and Turner and then the slamm
ing of the vehicle door. Feeling more confident now that Jack was out of danger, Max lowered the gun and looked at the man. He was small, much shorter than Griffin, just eye level with Max. His hair was honey colored and sticking every direction. Part of her felt sorry for the man.

  "So Big Bud attacked in town with Little Bud I suppose. Did the mother also turn and attack?" Max asked. The man didn't speak, just nodded.

  "Look at me," Max demanded, tired of the pity act the man was pulling. His dark eyes met hers and they were filled with sorrow.

  "You've lost a lot of people," she continued quietly. And he nodded again.

  "We were staying for a few nights in the motel on the outside of town. We haven't seen much living, mostly infected. I'm guessing those are your town people. Is everyone that's alive safe?"

  "Yeah, as safe as we can be. We are staying out at the old Miller place. It's been closed for a while since the bank took it. The windows are boarded, so there's about twenty of us out there now," the man spoke fast, Griffin's gun on him made him ramble. Max touched Griffin's arm softly. The man wasn't a threat to them. He was only trying to protect his town and they were strangers.

  "Listen, I get that you are trying to protect your town. But you guys need to come in here, get everything useful and take it out to the Miller place. More people will come through. And they won't be as nice as we've been. We have taken very little, only what we absolutely needed. Do you hear me?" Max said sternly. The man nodded quickly.

  "You have a vehicle?" She asked.

  "Nah. I rode a bike."

  "A bike? Like a bicycle? Are you nuts?" Max laughed. Griffin even huffed out a laugh at that.

  "Well I don't have anything else," the man defended.

  Max looked around the small Main Street. She focused on a small pickup. It was an older model, something perfect for this man. Taking the shotgun with her, she walked away without a word.

  "Where she goin'?" The man asked Griffin.

  "Your guess is as good as mine," Griffin replied.

  "Ain't you with her?"

  "Yeah, that doesn't mean anything to her. She could be doing anything. By the looks of that truck she's headed toward, she's gonna hot-wire it," Griffin said, following Max and motioning for the man to follow.

  “Hot-wire it? Y'all are thieves, aren't you?!" The man said, his voice rising in indignation.

  "What aren't you getting about the world falling apart and those rules no longer applying?" Max said over her shoulder. The man just huffed, apparently not feeling the same way.

  An hour later, Max had the truck wired to start. She taught the man, who they learned was named James, how to put the wires together and how to get it started. After yanking him out of the truck once for almost shocking himself to death, Max was pretty sure she had him scared enough that he would do the right thing. While she was hotwiring the truck and showing James how to work it, Griffin and Turner loaded the bed of the truck with as many supplies as would fit. They watched as James drove carefully out of town. Max had even returned his shotgun, knowing he would need it eventually.

  "That was a good thing to do, Max," Griffin said to her as they stood in the middle of Main Street.

  "It wasted another hour of the day. I guess since we're still in town, we might as well get whatever else we need. I don't think James will be back to try and shoot us."

  Max walked toward what looked like sporting goods shop. The windows boasted ski, hiking and rafting supplies. Max could imagine people at the motel picking up a colorful pamphlet from the office and coming into this quaint town to find the supplies they needed for their adventure. The scene in her head made her sad and angry thinking of all the things people would no longer do. There would no longer be hiking for pleasure, instead it would be a necessity to survive.

  The door to the shop was locked. Max looked at it for a moment and then decided to just break out the door. She was just about to throw a large rock through it when Griffin stopped her.

  "Calm down. You don't need to destroy everything in your way," he kidded.

  "Do you have keys I don't know about?" She shot back.

  "Maybe. Old locks like this can sometimes be jimmied with a card. Like my library card," he said holding one up in his hand.

  "Were you planning on getting some light reading in?" Max asked sarcastically.

  Griffin didn't answer, knowing better than to feed into her attitude. Max stood back watching as he wiggled the door a bit, then jammed his card in to push back the latch. With a push of his shoulder, the door popped open. A proud Griffin turned back to Max to hold up his library card again. He smiled at her as she just rolled her eyes and walked past him.

  "Mitch didn't teach you that trick?" He said, falling into step with her.

  "No. He just figured we'd break things to get in," Max replied absently. Finally finding what she was looking for, she threw two backpacks at Griffin. He caught them and nodded, realizing what she planned on doing. They walked through the store for a few moments, grabbing other items that could be useful. By the time they were done, both Griffin and Turner had bags with batteries, flashlights, lanterns, rope, multi-tools, and mess kits.

  They walked together back to the pharmacy where they had parked the SUV. Turner and Jack were sitting on the back bumper with the hatch open. Jack swung her feet freely, laughing at something Turner said. As they walked Max watched Turner. His eyes were sharp, though he was talking to Jack, he was watching everything around them. His military training hadn't faded, similar to Griffin's. And he looked out for her little girl, so that put him on her good list.

  During the short drive back to the motel, Jack sorted the foods they had taken from the pharmacy. She filled both of the new packs with easy to eat foods. She also loaded each with a first aid kit she had created from the products they found.

  "So, the small first aid kit wasn't enough?" Turner asked her, turned in his seat to watch her work in the very back area.

  "No. They don't have enough bandages, scissors, tape, or antibacterial ointments," Jack explained.

  "You know a lot about first aid," he replied.

  "I've paid attention to what Momma has taught me. I like first aid stuff. But I'd like to learn to help animals someday," she said, smiling her innocent little smile up to Turner. Though Jack had her Uncle Rafe in Montana, she had never had daily interaction with men that could be father figures to her. The term father figure stuck in Max's mind, and she again started thinking about telling Griffin about Jack. Turner obviously was infatuated with the little girl even more now, knowing she was the daughter of his best friend.

  The group was somber when they arrived back to the motel. Griffin and Turner surveyed the area around the motel until they found a dirt location with no high weeds to hide danger. The bodies in the parking lot were a reminder of what had come out of the weeds and none of them wanted to face that again. The two men went with the shovels and Max took Jack into the room they had slept in. They kept the door shut between the two rooms, trying to ignore the fact that Sarah's dead body was still laying in a bed right next-door.

  Max and Jack worked on creating something of a lunch with canned tuna, mayo packets, pickles, bread, and chips. Jack commented on being sick of tuna, but Max was lost in her own thoughts. The day had gotten away from them. The death of Sarah had distracted her from the things Griffin had said the day before. How had he written her for months, and she never saw one of the letters?

  Sitting at the table, idly spinning her knife, Max searched her memories from that time. They were well burned into her brain. She had checked the mail daily for what felt like weeks. If she didn't find the mail in the box, she would find it in the house and she would search it. Had Mitch taken the letters and thrown them away before she got the chance to look? She had assigned chores that kept her from waiting for the mailman.

  Now that she really thought about it, Mitch always made sure she was busy in the afternoons after his morning lessons. He would have her up and out of bed
early, working around the compound. Almost daily he would take her off the compound to do wilderness training or hunting. By the time they got home, she would be exhausted. He would have always had the opportunity to check the mail before her.

  The implications of this were heavy on Max. She looked at Jack who was curled up on a bed reading a book. All these years, Max had held bitterness toward Griffin for leaving her. It was that bitterness and fear that kept her from ever reaching out. She used those things as excuses for not telling him he had a daughter. Tears pricked the back of her eyes and she blinked quickly to prevent them from falling. The last eight years she had been making one of the biggest mistakes of her life.

  The door opened as Griffin and Turner entered, filthy and sweaty. Max stood up and motioned for them to sit down. After cleaning up somewhat, they sat, and Max put lunch in front of them. Griffin watched her with raised eyebrows. It wasn't a typical habit of Max's to serve anyone a meal. They dug in and Max sat next to Jack.

  "How's the digging going?"

  "There is a lot of dense clay, so it's going slow," Turner replied around a bite of a tuna sandwich.

  "I can come out and take a shift if you need," Max offered.

  "To dig the grave you didn't want to take the time to dig?" Griffin asked, he again looked at her with surprise on his face.

  "I'm not a complete heartless hag. I can help," Max shot back defensively.

  "I think we got it. If we need you we'll let you know," Griffin replied, turning back to his lunch.

  They ate the remaining time in silence. After finishing, the men left the room again without a word. Max stood and paced the room, her thoughts in turmoil. She couldn't handle being idle for so long. The heaviness of the secret she was carrying was distracting and exhausting. Deciding finally that her lack of the sleep the night before was also not helping anything, she kicked off her boots and slid into the bed Jack read in. She fell asleep with her face pressed into her daughter's hair.