Broken World | Novel | Angus

by Mary, Kate L.

  Angus let out a bitter snort of a laugh, but he was grinning. Happy for the first time in— He didn’t know how long.

  “Hell, there was always monsters, it just wasn’t easy pickin’ them out before.” He shook his head as memories swept over him, awed by how suddenly they had come back. “It was better, though.”

  It wasn’t exactly true, at least not for him. He hadn’t had much of a life before the zombies came, hadn’t really cared about anyone or anything other than his brother. Back then, everything he’d done had been for Axl.

  After the virus killed most of the human race and the dead came back, things had gotten better in a strange kind of way. It had been a struggle at first, and he’d had to work hard and fight—himself more than anything—but he’d found a bizarre sort of family in his fellow survivors. It had taken him by surprise, but it was true, and it had changed him for the better.

  “I wish I could have experienced it,” Naya said.

  He nodded, not knowing what else to say. The truth was, Angus wouldn’t change the way things had played out even if he could. Not the part about the zombies, although he doubted the girl at his side would have understood that. She couldn’t comprehend that even though the virus had killed most of the population and turned them into flesh-eating monsters, Angus wouldn’t have lifted a finger to change it if he were somehow transported back in time. Hell, he wouldn’t even change the twenty years he’d spent in the CDC, because it had taken him on a journey that had transformed his life. It had taught him how to love, had given him a daughter, and had taught him to appreciate the people around him in a way nothing else would have ever been able to.

  The creatures, however, he would change.

  They walked a few minutes in silence before she turned to him again, still squinting against the bright sun. “Were you married?”

  The question caught him so off guard that he was unprepared for the rush of pain, and he had to clear his throat before he could respond. “Not before, no.”

  Naya either didn’t catch that he’d brushed her question off, or she realized he didn’t want to talk about it, because she didn’t ask him to elaborate, instead saying, “What about television?”

  “Television?” The question made him laugh.

  “Yeah. My great grandma told me about it before she died. About people acting out stories you could watch. It sounded fun.”

  “Yeah, it was.” Angus let out a low chuckle as he thought about that long-lost piece of technology and what a big part it had played in his childhood. “Was a nice way to get your mind off real life, too.”

  The girl frowned. “Why would you want to get your mind off real life? I mean, weren’t things really good back then?”

  “Always good to have a distraction.”

  As if realizing he was avoiding answering her, Naya’s frown deepened.

  Angus understood her curiosity, he even understood why the past must have been confusing. Confronted with the horror of this world, it must have been difficult to imagine that anything from before could have been less than perfect. It made him feel bad—guilty, even—for not answering her more decisively, but the last thing he wanted to do was dredge up memories of his childhood. They’d faded even more than the ones involving zombies, and he was fine with that. The less he remembered about that period of his life, the better.

  Wanting to give her something to think about, though, he said, “Met me an actress once.”

  “Actress?” Naya’s eyebrows pulled together like she’d never heard the word.

  “One of them people who acted on the television.” She’d actually been a movie star, but he didn’t know if Naya knew the difference, so he let it go. “It was after the zombies, but I’d seen her on television and knew who she was. She was real nice.” He smiled to himself. “Became a good friend, too.”

  “Wow.” Naya paused, her mouth turning down as she thought about it. “I don’t really understand how money worked, but I’ve heard about it. She probably had a lot of it, right?”

  “More than me.”

  The old Angus would have scowled and maybe even spit, and the very mention of money would have put him in a foul mood, but there was no bitterness in his words. It had been a long time since money had meant anything—either to him or to this damned world he was stuck in—but the lack of resentment still surprised him. In his younger years, Angus never would have been able to talk about how little he’d had compared to other people without getting angry. Even after the zombies came and things changed, he’d had a difficult time.

  They lapsed into a contented silence after that. For years, Angus had been desperate for a companion, desperate to once again have someone to converse with, but now that she was here, he found it difficult to know what to say. He was out of practice when it came to making conversation, and it didn’t help that his companion was a fourteen-year-old girl.

  Even so, just having her at his side was a comfort. He enjoyed the simple pleasure of listening to two sets of footsteps scrape against the ground, of hearing her breathe and knowing he wasn’t alone in this world. He’d been so sure he was. So certain he’d never see another living, breathing person again. He’d been wrong, and the knowledge was exhilarating.

  Hours had passed in silence and more than half the day had slipped away by the time Angus caught a glimpse of something through the trees that made him stop. The sun was right overhead, shining down and making the water sparkle, and when he strained his ears, the rush of the river was just audible over the other sounds from the forest.

  “Should take a break,” he said, nodding toward the trees. “Get us some water.”

  Naya seemed to not know what to say, and she didn’t reply as she followed him through the brush lining the road and toward the river.

  The sound of the rushing water grew as they picked their way through the dense foliage, coming into view after less than a minute. Angus eyed the bank leading to the river, trying to come up with a plan of attack as he dropped his bag to the ground and dug through it. The edge was steep and covered in little pebbles, the earth loose in places, and the water rougher than he would have liked. It wouldn’t be easy getting down, and getting back up was going to be twice as difficult because there was nothing to hold on to and there would be little to no traction.

  He pulled the small stainless-steel kettle from his bag, but before he could stand, Naya had snatched it from his hand.

  “I’ll fill it up.”

  Angus jumped to his feet, his hand out like he was going to grab her arm. “Wait.”

  The girl had already turned toward the embankment, but she paused so she could glance back at him.

  “It ain’t safe.”

  “I can do it.”

  Angus followed when she once again started walking, unsure of what to say or do. He was the adult, and he’d promised Naya’s mom he’d look after her, but he was ill equipped for the job and unsure how to stop the girl from doing this reckless thing. She was so determined, and he was still mostly a stranger to her. Would she even listen if he tried to tell her what to do?

  He stood at the top of the bank, real worry clawing at his insides as he watched Naya climb down. The river rushed past them, seeming twice as violent now that the girl was moving toward it, but she didn’t hesitate. She kept her feet sideways, her boots parallel with the water to give her better traction. One step, two. Naya held the kettle in one hand, keeping it out in front of her, while leaning back so she could cling to the various weeds as she went. None of them were particularly big and would do nothing to keep her from falling if she slipped, but they probably helped her maintain balance.

  Her feet slid a few inches, and Angus’s pulse quickened. He wanted to call out and tell her to be careful, but he was afraid it would startle her, causing her to slip even more, so he clamped his mouth shut while curling his hands into fists at his side.

  Naya paused, made sure she wasn’t going to slide again, then as cool as if nothing had happened, she kept mo
ving.

  She made it to the river without any more trouble. There, she planted her feet and crouched beside the water, removing the lid from the old kettle once she had. She dunked it under, allowing the water to fill while Angus watched in tense silence. The task was finished in seconds, then Naya stood, turned, and headed back up.

  Angus watched her climb, the tension in him rising. She dug her feet in with each step, and leaned forward, using her free hand to help pull herself up. It had been years since he’d felt anxiety like this. If the girl fell, if she slipped down the hill and landed in the water, he wouldn’t be able to help her, and the river would surely wash her away. Then he’d be alone again.

  Naya was still four feet away when he stepped forward and held his hand out, wanting to help but not daring to go any lower just in case the loose earth gave away.

  “Take my hand.”

  She reached up, threw her body forward, and clasped his hand with her free one.

  Angus pulled her up the rest of the way, letting out a sigh once she was on flat ground.

  Naya was breathing hard, but there was pride in her eyes when she held the kettle up. “I told you I could do it.”

  He wasn’t sure how to respond, so all he said, was, “Should make a fire.”

  Naya’s shoulders slumped, and some of the light in her eyes faded. Had she wanted him to tell her she’d done a good job? Angus had never been one for positive reinforcement, had never had it himself, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to go about it.

  “Okay,” was all the girl said before setting the kettle down and moving toward the trees.

  He followed her, and wordlessly, they went about the task of gathering sticks so they could start a fire. Naya seemed upset or even disappointed as she worked, and Angus couldn’t help wondering if he’d let her down in some way. She wouldn’t meet his gaze as she gathered an armful of sticks and was still frowning when she took them back to where she’d left the kettle. He had his own load of branches, which he set on top of hers, and she was still frowning when he got to work arranging the wood. She also acted like she was purposefully avoiding looking at him.

  Once he’d prepared the wood, Angus pulled the two pieces of flint from his backpack and struck them together. They sparked, catching on a few dead leaves, and Angus blew out a soft breath as he added a couple more, shooting Naya another look. She was still frowning. The fire spread, the flames licking at the wood he’d arranged, and he blew again. Waiting. Thinking. Coming to a decision.

  Once he was sure the fire caught, Angus sat back. “Nice job gettin’ the water.”

  He didn’t look at Naya when he said it, mainly because he wasn’t sure if it was the right thing, but also because he was uncomfortable with the idea of praise. He’d never gotten it as a child, had never given it to his brother—who he’d practically raised—and he squirmed at the mostly foreign sentiment.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Angus saw Naya beam, and some of his discomfort eased.

  “It’s really not a big deal,” she said.

  “Sure, it is.” Now that he’d started it, he decided to go for broke. “Took a lot of guts.”

  Her smile stretched wider, and the tension seemed to leave her body. He found himself feeling lighter. Giving praise was an odd thing, because it didn’t just make the recipient feel good. Angus, too, felt like he’d been given a gift.

  They sat in silence while they waited for the water to boil. The sun was bright, its rays intense and beating down on them, but it was welcome because the air had barely warmed since this morning. Angus looked up, noting how the leaves on a few of the trees had begun to change color. They were still mostly green, but shades of gold were visible in a few places, telling him fall was well on its way. Hopefully, they found either the mystical shelter Naya was looking for or somewhere else before winter hit.

  He left the kettle on the fire longer than necessary, wanting to make certain it had boiled enough to kill anything that might be lurking. With no watch to time it, it was all guesswork these days, and he didn’t want to risk possibly drinking tainted water. It had happened before, and the ensuing sickness had made him wish for death even more than a lot of other things had. Which was saying a lot.

  Once he was sure enough time had passed, he pulled the kettle from the fire and set it aside to cool. Then he stood.

  “Gonna head into woods and see if I can find us anything to eat.”

  Naya got up as well. “I can help.”

  Angus frowned, his gaze moving toward the surrounding forest. Gathering a few branches at the edge of the tree line was one thing, but he didn’t like the idea of her wandering through the woods. There was too much that could go wrong. Too many predators that would happily rip her to shreds.

  He looked back at the girl, holding her gaze as memories of what it had felt like to be a father swept over him. He wasn’t this girl’s dad, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel responsible for her. He did, and it probably would have been the same even if he hadn’t promised her mother that he’d look out for her.

  “Why don’t you stay here?” It wasn’t a suggestion.

  Naya frowned, studied him for a moment before nodding slowly. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” he repeated, then headed into the forest to search for food, leaving the girl standing by the fire.

  The meal he managed to scrounge up was meager. A squirrel, which he’d gone to great lengths to kill, and a handful of walnuts he was able to get from some low hanging branches, which he would roast over the fire while the kettle cooled. It wasn’t a lot, but it was better than nothing—which was something he’d had to make do with more times than he could count—and Angus felt satisfied with it as walked back to the camp.

  Naya sat by the fire, quiet as she watched him skin and cook the animal. The silence continued as they ate—Angus passing off most of the food to the girl because she needed it more than he did. If she noticed, she chose not to acknowledge it, which made Angus have to bite back a smile. They might not have known what to say to one another, but having someone with him—even if they spent most of their time in silence—was better than he’d remembered.

  After eating and putting out the fire, they continued walking. They stuck to the roads despite the poor shape they were in, and every time they came to a turn, Naya dutifully pulled out her compass to check the direction. Angus never bothered looking at the thing, unconcerned if they were traveling west or east as long as the girl was happy, and each time she pointed which direction she wanted to go, he dutifully headed that way.

  The day wore on with neither of them saying much more than a few words here and there, but the silence was comfortable. Part of him longed to ask about her life, about her parents and her childhood, but another part was afraid the discussion would open old wounds. For both of them. So, they continued in silence, traveling the deserted countryside as the sun made its way across the sky. At some point, clouds moved in, occasionally blocking the sun from view and casting shadows across the road. It made the day chillier, made it seem more like fall than even the early morning air had.

  A small building appeared in front of them when they turned a corner, and Angus jerked his head toward it, breaking the silence for the first time in more than an hour when he said, “Should probably think ’bout findin’ a place for the night.”

  Naya’s head bobbed in silent agreement.

  The sky was clogged with clouds now, entirely blocking the sun from view, but not the light. Still, Angus could tell it was setting. They had maybe twenty minutes of daylight left. Not a lot, but enough, assuming the building was in decent shape.

  There was no door, and the front windows had been knocked out as well, allowing them to step inside with ease. The crunch of their footsteps echoed through the air as they picked their way across the room. Naya was behind him, silent but alert. He’d been a little concerned about traveling with a companion after all this time, not wanting to have to worry about watching someone else’s back as well as
his own, but he shouldn’t have been. The girl was young, but this world was all she knew. She’d been born into this horror, and she understood it. Knew how to survive, knew when it was okay to make noise and when to be quiet. She was able to keep her footsteps light despite unseen debris, and she was always alert. He admired her, truth be told. Admired the way she’d carried herself throughout the day and the fact that she hadn’t let her mother’s death destroy her. He knew she was hurting, understood the grief she was carrying all too well, but she hadn’t let it break her, and that wasn’t an easy thing to do. Especially when there wasn’t anything else to cling to.

  Angus paused in the middle of the room, and Naya stopped as well, but he didn’t look back at her. He was too focused on listening, straining his ears as he studied their surroundings. The building was beyond dilapidated, with no glass in the windows, crumbling walls, and a ceiling that was barely intact, but it was their only option. Night was setting in, and they needed to take cover. Soon.

  The dirt and other debris scattered across the room made it difficult to search for scat, but that didn’t stop him from trying to scan every inch of space. There was none, at least as far as he could see, and the air was thick with mildew.

  “Looks okay,” he mumbled to himself as he once again started moving.

  Naya said nothing, but the crunch of her footsteps told him she was following. He had no clue what the building had been, but it was small and had only one door at the back. Hopefully, it led to an office or storage room they’d be able to take cover in for the night.

  The door was metal and rusted from age, but mercifully still attached, and the hinges groaned in protest when he pushed on it. It swung open, but only a little before stopping with a thud. Still, it was enough that he’d be able to squeeze through.

  “Should be able to take cover here for the night,” he said.