The World That Remains (Evergreen Book 2)

by Matthew S. Cox

  Wow, that must’ve been expensive. Harper’s mind wandered, reducing the men’s conversation to a constant murmur of meaningless sound at the edge of her awareness. All the buildings and houses in Evergreen, heck the entire country even, represented tons of money people had once spent, never mind all the super-expensive skyscrapers, malls, bridges, and so on vaporized by the bombardment. They wouldn’t last forever though, and with the total lack of infrastructure, no one could call contractors to come fix things or build new houses. If one of the kids put a soccer ball through a window, that window would stay broken forever. If a house burned to the ground, it wouldn’t be replaced by anything resembling a real house.

  Would dwellings start to look like heaps of patchwork scrap in a few decades? Would people end up in tent cities like refugee camps or maybe grass huts like some Amazon tribe? Sure, some houses from the 1900s still stood, some even older than that—but how long would any of them last now without professionals to repair things? Society might recover at some point. After all, they had ‘real’ houses in the Wild West, but people would need to re-learn how to build things without giant machines or power tools.

  Right now, I’d be so happy if we could get the lights to turn on. Or even like an oil lamp so we can see in the dark and don’t have to go to bed at like eight. Where did the oil for those things even come from? Does anyone even remember how to make it?

  Though she felt safe in Evergreen, thinking about the future made her uneasy.

  And the immediate future bothered her even more. She looked at the window, desperately wanting to be out there trying to find the bastard stalking children. The light struck her as telling.

  Oh, crap. School’s let out already.

  “I, umm… need to go. Kids are out of school and they’re too young to be home alone. You got this?” She looked up at Ken.

  “Yeah. No problem.” He patted her shoulder.

  “Thanks!” She offered a quick nod to Mayor Ned, Anne-Marie, and Al, then rushed out the door.

  Worry that something happened to her siblings on their way home pushed her jog up to a run.

  11

  Winging It

  A brief period of running around in panic gave way to elated relief when Harper found Madison, Jonathan, Lorelei, and Becca exploring still-empty houses on Pinecone Lane, a short distance south from home.

  She remained calm, not even demanding they stop, staying with them as they played. Somewhat farther south, they found an indoor basketball gym next to an abandoned dentist’s office. Miraculously, no one had looted the place… but then again, what use would anyone really have for mass quantities of basketballs? They played for a little while before she gathered the kids and brought them home for dinner.

  Several big white towels from the shower area went with them.

  Cliff cooked a whole chicken on the cinder block grill in the backyard. He cut the spine out, flattening the bird so it cooked faster. Predictably, Madison wept over the poor dead creature as if it had been a pet. Under the guise of consoling, Harper pulled her off out of earshot of Lorelei and explained about the need to keep an eye on the little one.

  “Okay,” said Madison in a hushed voice. “Is something wrong with her?”

  “Lori is… umm. Well, you know how sometimes when you look at someone, you get that feeling like you should stay away from them?”

  “Yeah.” Madison nodded.

  “Lori can’t do that. She doesn’t have the ability to pick up on whatever sense that warns us about someone.”

  Madison’s eyes widened. “Do you really think there’s a bad guy?”

  “I’m sure there’s someone sneaking around, but I don’t really know what they’re up to. Better to be careful.”

  “Okay.”

  “Thanks, Termite.” Harper hugged her. “Are you doing okay?”

  “I dunno. Still sad, but I can deal. Mom and Dad would want us to keep going, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Lorelei had apparently decided to attach herself to Jonathan that evening, so a chance for speaking to him didn’t present itself until well after dinner when everyone went to bed. Harper poked her head into his room. While the boy had it all to himself, his room barely had enough space to hold a twin box spring and mattress without a frame. A strip of carpet roughly two feet wide between the bed and the wall held his modest pile of clothing as well as a few toys.

  “Hey, got a sec?” asked Harper.

  “Yeah.” He lifted his head to look at her.

  She sat on the edge of the mattress, facing the door, and explained the issue with Lorelei. “So, it’s really important that you help me keep her safe, okay?”

  “I will.”

  Squealing giggles came from across the hall.

  “It stinks we have to go to bed so early all the time,” said Jonathan. “I used to stay up until ten.”

  “Wow, that’s pretty late for a kid your age. My parents didn’t let me go to bed at ten until I was like thirteen. Maddie got to stay up ’til nine before I did though, but she had way more homework than I did at the same age.”

  He grinned. “Maybe if teachers hadn’t given so much homework, people wouldn’t have been mad enough to nuke everyone.”

  Harper laughed. “I think the problem was a little more complicated than excessive homework.”

  He stuck out his tongue.

  “Night, kiddo.”

  “Night, Harp.”

  She stepped out into the hall—and came face to face with Cliff, practically colliding with him.

  Harper gasped and jumped back, light-headed and near to fainting.

  “Christ on a crutch,” muttered Cliff, appearing equally startled. He caught her by the arms to keep her from falling over backward. “What’s got you so jumpy?”

  Once she remembered how to breathe again, she coughed and fell against him, holding on until the trembling stopped. She told him about the possible creep, but mostly, she’d just freaked out because he’d snuck up on her in the dark, even if by accident.

  “Sorry. So damn used to covert ops, I just exude quiet. It becomes a lifestyle. They even trained us how to fart without a sound.”

  She laughed. “That’s so wrong.”

  “Possible it’s the same person who’s been swiping food from the quartermaster.”

  “Someone’s stealing food?” Harper blinked.

  “Not tons. But there have been multiple break-ins at the storage area. No one’s sure how they’re getting in, since there’s no damage and the door’s still locked. I’m thinking it might be an inside job. Someone’s probably sneaking food out rather than ‘breaking in.’ But, we’re watching the place.”

  “Why would a food thief spy on kids?”

  “Might have just been hiding and waiting for ’em to go by.”

  Harper folded her arms. “Mila said she was followed.”

  “Mila.” He quirked an eyebrow.

  “She’s not insane. Just… creepy.”

  “Curtains with spider decorations are creepy. That girl’s going to slit someone’s throat before she’s fifteen.”

  “Please tell me you’re making a sick joke and not getting a feel off her like you did with Tyler.”

  He patted her arm. “Mostly sick joke. She’s young enough she might grow out of it. What’s your gut say about this guy sneaking around?”

  “Danger.” She pressed both hands into her stomach. “I’m scared he’s going to hurt someone. Pretty sure he was watching me and I couldn’t see him, but I just had this feeling like he wanted to hurt me.”

  “All right. I’ll see if Roy’s up for checking around the north tonight.”

  “Cool.”

  “Heard you had some excitement today.”

  “Yeah.” She filled him in on Al Gonzalez. “What if whoever lived here before comes back?”

  “What else would we do but let them have their house?”

  Harper stared down at her sneakers. “Yeah, you’re right. Guess I’m starting t
o get used to it here.”

  “Go to bed, kiddo.”

  She raspberried him. “Night, Dad.”

  Two days came and went with little excitement.

  Al settled into his old house with the Parkers. Despite the initial hostility between them, he wound up reminding Diane of her father. None of the kids had come forward with any more stories of being watched, though several militia members had received reports of someone or something creeping around the west part of town after dark. One person described an unusually round bear.

  It frustrated Harper that no one had been able to find who or whatever skulked around Evergreen, but only a handful of militia patrolled at night due to the limited number of lanterns available, and those wouldn’t last forever. Even though the school and the clinic kinda had electricity back, neither one had any exterior illumination. No street lights worked, no houses had power, leaving only the moon and stars to see by after dark. Cliff had been used to night watch without a light source, and he’d been working on training a few people. She’d gotten the thirty-second version: stay as quiet as possible and move slow. If she thought someone approached, sit still and look for motion. Also, peripheral vision worked better in the dark than direct sight.

  Despite it being late morning, Harper still thought about those techniques while patrolling. Every time she heard a sound that might have come from a person, she’d freeze in her tracks and listen, hearing Cliff say ‘the human eye is attracted to motion’ in her head. It felt ridiculous to be standing there out in the open instead of diving for cover, but at night, that wouldn’t matter. Without the sunlight, the darkness would conceal her more than the sudden, rapid motion of a dive.

  Also, since she didn’t wear anything even close to camo, standing still in the daytime wouldn’t help much. However, she considered it decent practice since Walter would eventually add her to the night rotation. She kept her fingers crossed that wouldn’t happen for a few years at least, until all the kids she had to watch reached an age where they could be alone. Adding Lorelei to the family bought her more time.

  Rustling to her left drew nearer, fast enough that she scrambled to get the shotgun off her shoulder. She pivoted toward the motion, but stopped short of aiming at a Mom-aged woman with chestnut brown hair and a frightened expression. It took her a few seconds to remember the woman’s name, Katherine Bowden. Her son Noah turned thirteen back in January.

  “Harper,” whispered Katherine. “Someone’s broken into the house.”

  “Are they still there?”

  Katherine looked back over her shoulder at the tree-studded hill she’d come down. “I don’t think so. Some food and my gun are missing.”

  Harper nodded, then hurried up the incline, cutting across properties to the east, heading for a house that faced the next street over. As with most houses no longer occupied by their pre-war owners, the locks had been removed from the front door with the exception of the deadbolt. She entered with the Mossberg raised, aiming around while searching upstairs and down.

  A scattering of granola bar wrappers littered the kitchen floor near the door to the yard, along with a muddy sneaker print. It looked larger than her shoe, and wider, so she didn’t think a child had done this—though she had seen some freshman boys with big feet. After clearing the basement, she felt certain no one remained hiding in the house, and returned outside to Mrs. Bowden.

  “There’s no one in there anymore. It’s safe.”

  “You saw the wrappers on the floor? The thief ate three of them right there, and took the whole rest of the box.”

  “Yeah. I saw. Someone’s been stealing food from the quartermaster’s.”

  Katherine frowned. “Can’t say I’m surprised. She’s not giving us enough.”

  “Liz is doing her best to make sure everyone gets a fair amount to survive on. Things will improve once the farm is at full capacity.”

  “It’s hard telling Noah we have to make the food last.” Katherine shot a worried stare at the cabinets. “Boys his age need to eat.”

  “I know. I know. We’re doing the best we can with what’s here. When did this happen?”

  “Late last night. Whoever it was came in while we slept. Didn’t notice until morning.”

  “Where was the gun?” asked Harper. “Did they go into your bedroom and not wake you up?”

  “Umm…” Katherine looked at the floor, seeming like an older version of Madison caught doing something wrong.

  So weird. She’s old enough to be my mother and she’s like afraid of getting in trouble. “Mrs. Bowden?”

  “It’s… it was on the coffee table. I know, stupid of me to leave it there. But I didn’t want it going off in the middle of the night right next to me.”

  “Guns don’t just randomly shoot by themselves, but I know they can be scary if people aren’t used to them.” She bit her tongue before saying something like maybe she’s better off not having it. “So the thief didn’t go upstairs to the bedrooms?”

  “If they did, we didn’t notice.”

  Harper examined the back door, discovering a faint muddy smear on the inside knob. Not like fingerprints would be of any use. Grr. What would real cops do to investigate this? She took the little notepad Walter gave her out of her back pocket and scribbled down the particulars of the event with a stubby pencil.

  “I’ll file a report. I’m guessing you don’t know the serial number of the stolen gun?”

  Mrs. Bowden stared at her, clueless.

  “Figured. What kind of gun was it?”

  “A little black one.”

  “Handgun… do you know what size bullets it used?”

  “The ones that are round on one end and flat on the other.”

  Harper’s eye twitched. “Did it have a part in the middle that spins around or did the bullets go in a box that went in the handle?”

  “The box thing. It’s pretty small, only took seven bullets at a time. Noah said it’s a Sig. Does that help?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “Probably a 9mm. Okay, that helps a lot. Black you said?”

  Katherine nodded.

  “Got it. If we find it, I’ll see it’s returned to you.”

  “You don’t sound like you expect to find the thief.”

  Harper stashed the notepad back in her pocket, then slid the pencil into her front pocket. “It’s not like police technology is what it used to be. We’re pretty much stuck looking for someone with a box of Nutri-Grain bars and a handgun. Though, I doubt anyone would walk for miles specifically to target your house. Someone must have randomly come this way. I’ll check other houses in the area. Might be someone snuck into town without going through the admission process.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  Maybe Roy will know what to do. He used to be a city cop. Or Walter. He worked for the sheriff.

  Harper exited the Bowden house via the back door, but couldn’t find any noticeable trail of footprints. She knew the two nearest houses contained official residents, both with children and both likely away working on the farm at this hour. It didn’t seem likely that they would be willing to steal, but then again, they had children to feed, too. People could do desperate things for their kids.

  She went to the left house and knocked. When no one answered, she entered, shotgun out, and conducted a similar search as she’d done in Katherine’s place. She mostly looked for signs of burglary or someone in there who shouldn’t be, but kept an eye out for a box of granola bars. Finding nothing there after about a half hour, she went to the next nearest house on the right side and repeated the process. The normality of the homes got under her skin, triggering an upwelling of sorrow. Except for the lack of power, they looked like ordinary houses where people had gotten up and left for no reason. She could almost pretend the war hadn’t happened.

  Heh. I’m basically playing Skyrim for real… just walking into people’s houses and looking at their stuff. All these things people bought. Televisions, stereos, video game systems… Who used to
live here? Are they still alive? I bet they miss their home. She missed hers too, but had already tried her best to let go of it. She couldn’t return to the house she’d grown up in. Mostly because it held the bodies of her parents. That, and wanting to avoid abduction and assault. Also, starving kinda sucked, too.

  The third most distant house from Katherine’s had no official occupant, so she didn’t bother knocking. After searching the kitchen and finding nothing, she went down the hall on the ground floor, performing a cursory room-to-room sweep, including closets.

  At a thump on the ceiling, she froze, gazing up.

  Someone’s in here.

  She fast-crept back to the living room and aimed up the stairs, listening for a moment, but hearing nothing. Step by step, she advanced to the second floor. The eerie feeling of not being alone and not knowing who she might encounter made the hairs on her arms stand on end. With each room she peered into and found empty, anxiety grew that some giant, hairy wild man who’d been living rough since the bombs fell would leap out at her with a knife. What if the cow hadn’t fallen to a mountain lion? Could a person have done that, the same person who’d been sneaking around town? Maybe she had gotten worried over nothing and he hadn’t been eyeing the kids with bad intentions but simply didn’t want to be discovered?

  How would he react to being caught?

  … and he had a gun.

  Harper held her breath and nudged the last door in the upstairs hall open with the shotgun. A queen-sized bed appeared to have been used recently by the world’s most restless sleeper, the fitted sheet peeled away from one corner, the spread on the floor.

  The sense that someone to her right breathed reached her consciousness.

  Expecting attack, Harper spun and aimed at a figure hiding in the corner, shouting, “Don’t move!” before her brain processed the information coming from her eyes: she had her shotgun trained on a slender girl around the same age as her with long, straight brown hair, wearing only a delicate gold chain necklace and several hickeys.

  The naked cheerleader screamed, thrusting her hands up as if being robbed.