The World That Remains (Evergreen Book 2)

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Umm. Don’t worry about that anymore, okay? You’re home now.” Harper kissed her atop the head.

  Lorelei giggled. “Okay.”

  “Gonna go look around. You lot should get to bed.” Cliff stood and gathered the bowls. “I’ll wash these when I get back.”

  “I got it.” Harper stood, carrying Lorelei over to the sink. “It’ll dry out and get hard to clean before you get back.”

  “Are you going to carry her around all night?” asked Cliff, grinning.

  “Yeah. Pretty much.”

  Lorelei giggled again. “I gotta go to the bathroom.”

  Jonathan stood. “I’ll do the dishes. You can’t do ’em one handed.”

  “Are you going to hold her over the toilet, too?” asked Madison, then stuck her tongue out.

  “No.” Harper finally let herself smile.

  She did carry the girl to the bathroom, but set her down at the door.

  A short while later, with the dishes done, everyone’s teeth brushed, and the Mossberg close by, she lay in bed with Madison on her right, Lorelei on her left against the wall, and a cloud of toothpaste fumes hanging over them. She and Jonathan had rigged empty cans on every window as well as the front and back doors. Hopefully, they would be loud enough to wake her up if anyone tried to sneak into the house.

  Harper stared at the ceiling, furious and heartbroken at Lorelei’s birth mother. She assumed the woman had told the girl multiple times that she ‘should have gotten an abortion’ and/or she wished someone would kidnap her. Whether Lorelei didn’t understand or chose to ignore the meaning, she couldn’t tell. Though, the girl talking about trying to buy an abortion at a store—as if it were some object—gave her hope the child truly had no idea how her bio mom felt about her.

  Worry kept her wide awake. Though the time couldn’t have been that late, probably not even eleven yet, she dreaded the approaching morning like she stayed awake until 2:00 a.m. Her body had gotten used to sleeping soon after sunset and waking soon after sunrise, like people did before alarm clocks.

  She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of her sisters’ breaths until finally, sleep snuck up on her.

  18

  Intuition

  A few days later, Harper walked the kids to school like she led a bunch of small soldiers on a sneak attack raid deep into enemy territory.

  Once at the classroom, the kids zipped over to their desks. Harper hovered at the door, tempted to spend the whole day there, not wanting to let her siblings out of her sight. However, she did trust the teachers to keep them safe. With three of them in the room, it didn’t seem likely that a moody child could up and walk away without being noticed. Also, the ‘Shadow Man’ would probably avoid such a large group.

  Before she could leave, Violet hurried over. “Harper… one sec.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Mila Cline didn’t show up today. Would you mind checking on her? I’d just like to make sure her mother kept her home sick and it’s nothing to worry about.”

  An ill feeling writhed in Harper’s gut. “Uhh… sure.”

  Violet picked up on the alarm in her eyes and clenched her jaw. “Trying not to jump to conclusions. The other kids have been avoiding her, so I’m thinking she might’ve not wanted to show up anymore to avoid being teased.”

  “Hope so. I’ll go right now.”

  “Thanks.” Violet smiled, then hurried back to the nine-to-twelve-year-old students.

  Harper fast-walked down the corridor to the main entrance, heading along the road to the right. Mila and her adoptive mother lived in a house off Pinehurst Drive, reasonably close to the school. Pinehurst paralleled Route 74 at the westernmost edge of the development. In fact, Mila could probably see the farm from her bedroom window. Before the war, whoever lived in that house got to enjoy all the noise of traffic on the highway.

  Her nerves still hadn’t fully recovered from the false alarm with Lorelei. Anxiety drove her to a light jog, sweating hands made holding the shotgun a challenge. She had no explanation for why her fear had ramped up so much, but an inexplicable sense told her something bad had happened.

  She followed the road south from the school until she took a right onto Canyon Circle. At the loop, she cut between houses and went into the forest, knowing that if she kept going generally south, she’d reach Brookline Road, to which Pinehurst connected. Days of walking around memorizing street signs finally paid off. She really felt like she knew the area backward and forward. Violet said ‘Mila’s house’ and she knew exactly how to get there as fast as possible. Only a horse would speed things up. The militia did have some mountain bikes, but they wouldn’t work too well in the patches of forest between houses.

  By her estimation, she’d made it about halfway to Brookline when a soft thump broke the silence up ahead. It sounded like a rock landing in the dirt. Harper slowed, raising the shotgun just in case, and changed course a bit to the left where the noise came from. Another, similar, thump happened a few seconds later. Harper advanced in that direction, half expecting to find a mountain lion pawing at something.

  Mila strolled into view among the trees about fifty feet away, head down. She wore her usual black jumper dress with the pleated skirt and ballet flats. The girl kicked a pinecone, sniffled, and kicked at another one. “Everyone hates me, but I don’t care. I gotta stay away.”

  Aww. Harper exhaled relief out her nose. That poor kid. How do I explain to her that the creepy act is making the other kids avoid her? She lowered the shotgun, stood out off her tactical crouch, and walked after her.

  Mila sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her arm, which appeared to be trembling. “No one’s gonna care when I’m gone.”

  She’s terrified… That girl really thinks someone’s after her.

  Harper stepped up her walk to a jog. She resisted the urge to call out, not wanting to spend the next ten minutes chasing her. That girl had been hiding how scared she’d really been for weeks. If she got caught shaking and crying, she’d run away.

  When she caught up to within about thirty feet of the girl, a dark form leapt out from the trees at Mila’s right, pouncing on her and lifting the child off her feet. Mila emitted a yelp of surprise, muffled by a hand over her mouth. She didn’t struggle or kick, hanging limp in his grasp almost as if she knew it pointless and had simply given up.

  Harper whipped the shotgun up to aim at a man wearing a black hoodie, gloves, and baggy, black pants. A quite physical—non shadowy—live person. “Hey!” she shouted. “Get off her!”

  The man spun toward her. A featureless, rounded black mask like a fencer’s covered his entire face, except for two cut eye holes, some substance smeared around his eyes underneath to darken the skin. His left arm encircled Mila’s body. His right hand covered most of her face.

  “I said, get off her.” Harper took five rapid steps, closing to within twenty feet. “Do it now!”

  He released his left arm, supporting the girl entirely by the hand over her mouth, clutching her head against his chest.

  Always watch their hands, said Cliff in her memory. He’d shot that guy when they found Summer. Harper hadn’t even noticed him going for a weapon until he lay dead on the road.

  She lowered her gaze to his left hand, which crept toward his belt. In an instant, she made the decision, trusting years of training at the target range with way more faith than she ever expected to need.

  Harper snapped her aim point up to his face and fired.

  His skull jerked backward. Something flew from his left hand and whistled past her ear. Mila slipped out of his grasp, tumbling to the ground at the same time the man collapsed over. The girl grabbed her forehead and curled up in a ball. Harper advanced, closing to within two paces of him, still aiming at his chest. True, his face appeared about the same size as the pie plate targets she’d pumped full of buckshot for years, but not one of those targets had a nine-year-old’s head a mere six inches below it.

  “Nice shot,” said Mila, cal
m as anything.

  The man still appeared to be breathing. She leaned closer, examining his face where she’d shot him. A few pellets had embedded in the mask, not penetrating it. Three had made holes, surrounded by fibrous frays, suggesting at least some of the buckshot had gone into his cheeks. That’s armor… I think I just knocked him out.

  “Wow…” Mila picked herself up and crept over to hide behind her. “You got the Shadow Man! You really got him! He… he’s…” She burst into tears.

  “Shh… It’s okay.” Harper’s heart raced. All the emotion of nearly losing Lorelei yesterday came crashing back down on her, almost making her pull the trigger again—but she stopped herself.

  “Gunshot,” shouted Marcie in the distance.

  “He’s not a monster,” whispered Mila. “You got him. I thought he was gonna take me and nothing could stop him, but you stopped him.” She clung to Harper from behind, trembling.

  “Yeah…”

  “Who’s firing?” yelled Darnell.

  “Over here! Need backup!” called Harper. “Got the son of a bitch!”

  Two small wounds oozed blood into the black fabric of his shirt at the base of his neck. Harper almost threw up at the sight, but not because of the blood. Those pellets had to have passed mere inches from Mila’s head.

  Darnell jogged into view from the southwest, probably coming from Route 74. Marcie approached from the east. Both sped up to sprinting once they spotted her.

  “What the hell?” asked Darnell, eyeing the guy on the ground.

  “That’s the bastard who’s been sneaking around spying on kids. Mila missed school today. Violet asked me to go check on her. Found her wandering around the woods and this guy just jumped out and grabbed her. Tossed something at me, so I shot him.”

  “Knives. The Shadow Man has lots of knives. Special knives. He throws them and they stick in people and they die,” said Mila.

  Marcie sounded two short blasts, a ‘need help’ tone.

  Darnell stooped over the guy, patting him down. “Damn, this guy’s suit is full of hardware. All sorts of knives and shit.”

  The man stirred. Mila ducked completely behind Harper, shaking. Darnell jumped up, pointing his hunting rifle at the guy, who moved a little, but appeared to lose consciousness again.

  Ryan Herman and Ken Zhang came jogging over within two minutes. While Marcie filled them in on what happened, Harper turned to check on Mila. She almost passed out at the sight of blood running in a trickle down the child’s face, but before total panic set in, she realized a crescent shaped welt and small cut marked her forehead… probably from the plastic wad swerving down and hitting her. Not a lead pellet. Red ringed Mila’s eyes from crying.

  Harper cringed, barely able to believe she’d taken the shot. Gingerly, she traced a finger over the mark. “I’m sorry…”

  “If you didn’t shoot him, you’d be dead. Then I’d be dead, too. It hurt, but it’s okay.” She smiled despite still crying.

  “Wait here a bit, okay? I’ll walk you home as soon as I can.”

  Mila nodded.

  Harper took a deep breath and approached the other militia.

  “Crazy shot,” said Ken.

  “He went for a knife. I… like ten feet away. Not much spread. Just instinct. Knife went flying off to the left.”

  Ryan knocked on the facemask. “Wow, is this Kevlar?”

  “Walmart Kevlar.” Darnell laughed. “Probably fiberglass or maybe someone got a hold of Kevlar weave and made it themselves. Definitely not military grade.”

  “Bah.” Marcie rolled her eyes. “Military grade only means it costs ten times what it should.”

  The guys laughed.

  Ryan and Ken removed multiple belts and bandoliers containing strange leaf-shaped knives with tiny handles as well as four larger combat knives. Harper and Marcie roamed around in search of the knife he’d thrown, but couldn’t find it. Mila stood a short distance away, staring at the man as though she expected him to spring back to life at any second and kill everyone there. The sight of ‘creepy girl’ looking like a frightened normal child struck Harper as beyond weird.

  “Well, let’s haul this guy to the doc.” Darnell grabbed the man’s left arm.

  Ryan took the other one. The two men proceeded to drag him off with Ken keeping a gun trained at him.

  “Why don’t you go on and bring her back to her mama,” said Marcie. “Head over to the HQ and explain what happened to Walter once you got her settled in.”

  “Okay. I will.” Harper approached Mila. “C’mon. Think this is worth a day off school.”

  The girl emitted a feeble chuckle.

  Marcie followed the men to the highway, also keeping her weapon trained on the unconscious man.

  “Are you hurt… umm except for your forehead??” Harper cringed. “Sorry.”

  “No. I’m okay.” Mila bit her lip. “Please don’t tell anyone I was crying, okay?”

  “Sure.” Harper took the girl’s hand. “So, that’s the Shadow Man?”

  “Yeah.”

  Did she see him before? How long could this guy have been around here?

  “Did you know he was going to attack you today?”

  Mila walked along at her side, staring down.

  “Hon?”

  “No. Not today specifically, but I knew he would get me. I can’t believe shooting him worked.”

  “Do you want to talk about why you didn’t go to school?”

  Mila shrugged. “No one likes me. And, umm, I didn’t want the Shadow Man to hurt them when he came for me. Guess I don’t have to be so weird now.”

  “Nothing wrong with being weird. Maybe turn the dial down from eleven though. Weird is fine, but you could ease back on the morbid stuff.”

  “I’ll do that tomorrow. Gonna be too busy having nightmares today.”

  They passed a house surrounded by trees and continued to the road, following it around a leftward curve before taking the right onto Pinehurst. Mila lived in the first house on the right. As they approached the door, Harper noticed the girl had a leaf-shaped throwing knife concealed in her right hand.

  No wonder I couldn’t find the darn thing… She bit her lip, debated for a moment, and grasped the girl’s wrist.

  Mila gave her a pleading stare.

  “What are you going to do with it?”

  “Keep it in case the shadow man escapes and tries to get me.”

  “You’re not gonna cut yourself, are you?”

  Mila shook her head. “No. It’s for him.”

  “Okay.” Harper let go of her arm. “Just be careful with it.”

  Mila looked up at her, then with barely a second’s glance to her right, threw the knife. It stuck with a soft thok in the 0 of the house number, 2401. “I just gotta hit him in the eye.”

  She glanced at the knife, back at Mila, at the knife again, and blinked. What the hell did I just witness?

  The girl walked over to the porch, stood on tiptoe, and plucked the little weapon out of the wood. “Mom isn’t home right now. She’s at the farm. I think I want to go to school so I’m not alone.”

  “Umm… Someone just tried to kidnap you. Are you sure you don’t need time to deal with that?” She glanced again at the house number. “We could go to the farm and find your mother if you want.”

  “You’re right. I’m probably going to have a meltdown once the shock wears off and I process what almost happened.”

  “Mila?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re too good at that creepy act.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Come on then. Let’s go find your mom.”

  Mila took her hand.

  Harper walked into the militia HQ, not surprised to find Marcie and Ken already there.

  “How is she?” asked Walter.

  “Held it together until we got to the farm and she watched her mother’s reaction as I explained what happened. As soon as Michelle grabbed her and started crying, Mila fell to bits. I think the
re’s probably a normal little girl in there somewhere.” Normal nine-year-olds don’t whip a throwing knife at a two-inch target without even aiming. Something’s not right with her.

  “That’s good to hear. Excellent work by the way.” Walter smiled.

  “Yeah, no shit. Damn nice shot.” Ken whistled. “I’d have choked. Too afraid of hitting the kid, even with a rifle—and you did it with freakin’ 12-gauge.”

  She almost said she figured if she didn’t shoot, both she and the girl would die anyway, but in truth, no thought had been involved. The shot felt possible at that range, buckshot wouldn’t spread out that far in the short distance, but the risk of an aberrant pellet spinning downward hadn’t fully registered until after.

  “Well, that’s one way to combat a food shortage.” Harper fidgeted. “I’m so sick to my stomach I don’t think I’m going to eat anything today.”

  “As I’m sure you’re assuming, this is as official an inquiry as it gets. Happens most times a militia person discharges a weapon inside the town. Don’t panic, I just need to hear what happened.” Walter gestured at a chair facing his desk, then sat behind it. “Already got an idea from these two, so you’re in the clear.”

  “He didn’t die, did he?” Harper sat, resting the shotgun across her lap.

  “No. His nose is broken,” said Darnell. “And he’s in surgery to remove a few pellets from his face. Janice is sending some guys up to bring the dude to the holding cells once the doctors clear him.”

  “Okay.” She relaxed. She probably wouldn’t have felt much guilt at killing a guy trying to abduct Mila, but she also didn’t mind not having to deal with it. “Violet asked me to check on her…”

  Walter listened to her retelling of everything that happened, nodding, seeming pleased with what she said. “How are you holding up?”

  “Good. Nervous… mostly about firing so close to Mila, but I’m okay. That attack in the Walmart rattled me way more than this.”

  Marcie rubbed her throat, smiling gratefully at her. “Yeah, no kidding. That was rough. I still owe you one for getting that crazy bitch off me.”