Broken World | Novel | Angus

by Mary, Kate L.

  “But you’re so…” She looked him over, her mouth pulling down in the corners, her expression confused and uncertain. “Nice.”

  Angus pressed his lips together in thought. The sun was warm on his face, but the air cool against his skin, putting him in the uncomfortable position of being both chilly and sweaty at the same time. He’d removed the brown jacket he’d taken from the cabin and had it draped over his arm to help combat the warmth of the afternoon sunshine, and as a result his skin prickled with goosebumps. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. He liked the feel of a chilly fall day. Once upon a time, it had been his favorite season. Back when he’d been able to escape into the woods with a bow or rifle, a cooler of beer, and sit for hours just waiting for a deer to stumble upon him. He could still remember the crisp air on his skin, chilling his cheeks and ears and the tip of his nose, and the scent of dirt and freshly fallen leaves. It had been his one escape in a life that had never really been his own.

  “When the virus happened,” he began, his gaze focused on the bursts of orange, yellow, and red in the distance where the leaves had begun to change, dotting the hills that rolled on for what seemed like forever, “it changed everybody. Good or bad, the choice was yours. Some people who’d once seemed so good, who’d fit into the old world perfectly, chose the evil route. Maybe they’d always been evil.” He shrugged to illustrate that he didn’t know or care. “Or maybe seeing everybody they loved die twisted somethin’ inside them, breakin’ them. It’s hard to say, and it don’t matter no more, ’cause they’re long gone.

  “Other people, though, took in the horror of this new world and let it mold them into somethin’ better. There was people who’d always been good. People who’d been mothers and fathers and teachers and doctors before, but there was others, too.” He finally looked toward Naya, squinting against the bright sun. “People like me. See, I didn’t appreciate life the way I shoulda back then. Wasn’t totally my fault, not with how I’d been raised, but I was to blame for some of it. Can’t deny that. After, though, when the world went to shit, I saw the people ’round me fightin’ to survive, fightin’ to make sure the horror didn’t destroy them, and try as I might to resist it, I couldn’t ignore what was happenin’. Couldn’t pretend the things I was seein’ didn’t affect me as much as it affected them.”

  Naya turned her focus to the distant horizon, her expression thoughtful, and for a few seconds they walked in silence. Then she looked at him and said, “You’re saying if the virus hadn’t been released, if the zombies hadn’t come, you would have stayed an asshole your whole life?”

  “That’s what I’m sayin’.” He paused, hesitated, then shook his head because he couldn’t hold it in, but he knew Naya would never understand what he was about to say. “Gotta be honest ’bout the whole thing. I can’t say I regret how things went down.”

  This made Naya stop walking. “What?”

  Angus stopped as well, turning to face her. “I ain’t sorry. Not ’bout any of it.”

  “You mean the virus that killed most of the population? The zombies? The creatures?” She waved her hand toward the ruins of a building at their side. Only two charred walls remained, the support beams a twisted mess of metal from the fire that had ripped through it who knew how long ago. “The ruination of the world?”

  “I know you ain’t gonna understand. Lord knows I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t lived it. But it made me who I am. Helped me appreciate life. I can’t regret that. Don’t matter how much it all hurt or how lonely it’s been. It was meant to be.” He looked up, smiling at the clear sky above their heads like he could see into the heavens where his friends were waiting for him. “I don’t know what waits for me when I leave this world, ain’t sure anybody can ever know for certain, and I never thought I’d be somebody who believed in God or fate. But I am. As twisted as this has all been, it was meant to be.”

  Naya said nothing, and Angus finally tore his gaze from the sky so he could look at her again. She wasn’t frowning, and she didn’t seem as outraged as she had a moment ago, but she still didn’t act like she understood. Not that he was surprised.

  He started walking again, waving for her to follow, and she jogged to catch up. She didn’t say anything once she was at his side, and they continued in silence as the sun shone down on them, warming Angus’s face, and the cool, autumn air swept across the road, raising goosebumps on his skin.

  They traveled a couple hours before stopping so they could eat, stretching the break out longer than usual, then continued until the sun had moved low in the sky and they finally reached the ruins of an old town that was less dilapidated than the others they’d passed. The buildings were skeletons of what they’d once been, hollowed out and pathetic looking, but a few had roofs and most had their walls.

  Angus stopped at the first one they came to, peeking his head inside so he could look around. It was a jungle of rotting furniture, debris, and weeds. The front of the building had been intact, giving off the impression it might be a good space to take shelter, but looks could be deceiving. The back wall had crumbled, leaving a gaping hole and making the building totally unsuitable.

  “There’s gotta be another,” Angus said, shaking his head as he started walking again, continuing down the weed choked and fissured road.

  Naya followed him as they inspected building after building, each one as run-down as the last. It almost felt as if something other than time had swept through this building—perhaps a tornado or other large storm—because not a single structure had been left untouched. They reached the end of the street before finally coming to a building that still had four walls. It was made of brick and had been an office of some kind and looked fairly sturdy despite the years of neglect and the abuse of Mother Nature.

  Other than the rhythmic sound of water dripping, the building was quiet when they stepped inside, and right away it had Angus on alert. He paused just inside the door, listening, and behind him Naya did as well.

  “What is it?” she asked when he didn’t move.

  “Too quiet,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he tried to get a look around.

  The walls blocked out what little light was left, and the room was crowded with debris. Pieces of the ceiling had fallen, and wires hung from the holes, twisted and coated in dust, and old furniture that sat rotting. Chairs were lying on their sides and covered in vines that had snaked their way in through the broken windows, and weeds sprang up in random areas, thriving despite the thin coating of dirt on the floor. There were a few piles of scat, too. In a corner and beside the front door, but it was old. Dried out and shriveled.

  Bones, both human and animal, were visible in places. A small skull from a rodent, ribs, a spine that could have only come from a person. A spider had made a home in the eye socket of a human skull, and cobwebs covered nearly every surface, the old ones hanging lower than the others and swaying in the breeze. Bugs and leaves and other small items clung to them, and here and there one of the arachnids was visible. To their right, a large yellow spider was perched in the middle of a huge web, its oval body plump and its legs thin and long. The thing was bigger than Angus’s hand and would have been creepy if not for the utter silence in the building. The lack of noise overshadowed everything else and had the hair on his arms standing on end.

  He put his hand on his knife. “We should go.”

  “There’s nowhere else, and it’s getting dark.”

  He swallowed, looked around again, peering into the dark corners of the room. He had a bad feeling about this.

  Naya was already moving, though, walking past him and deeper into the building. She had her knife out and her steps were light, but Angus couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

  “We should go,” he hissed.

  The girl kept walking.

  Swearing under his breath, Angus followed her, his gaze darting around as he did. The main room—which had been the lobby—was too open and exposed for the creatures, but he had no idea w
hat the doorways on the other side of the room led to. Anything could be lurking in the shadows.

  The air was thick with the scent of mildew and rot when he sucked in a breath, searching for the telltale sweet scent that would verify what his swiftly beating heart was trying to tell him. It wasn’t there, though. He sniffed again but smelled only rot and earth and nature.

  Angus walked faster, cobwebs tickling his face as he moved deeper into the building despite his better judgement, where he caught up with Naya, but she didn’t glance his way. They were treading lightly, being careful where they stepped, but the crunch of their footsteps still seemed loud amid the quiet, and Angus felt his heart quicken.

  As he approached the first doorway, he slowed his steps and tightened his grip on his knife. His heart was pounding now, and his sense of dread had risen even higher. He knew what he was going to see before he peered inside, or at least he thought so. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust enough to make out the figures in the darkness, but once they had, his breath caught in his throat and he froze. It was then that the sickly-sweet smell hit him, and his stomach rolled.

  Naya was a couple steps behind Angus, and he reached out to grab her arm, forcing her to stop as well. He already had his finger to his lips when she looked his way, and her gaze darted past him to the dark room. Her eyes grew wide, fear shimmering in them.

  He leaned close to her, his lips against her ear, and whispered, “Back out real slow.”

  She took a step back, her focus on the doorway.

  Angus followed her gaze. The room was pitch black, but through the thick darkness the figures were just visible. A lot of them. Ten at least. They stood close to one another, their shoulders touching, their backs to the doorway. Unmoving. They were still in rest mode, which was good news, but it wouldn’t be long before they woke, and he and Naya still hadn’t found a safe place. They needed to. Now.

  Like the girl, he kept his gaze on the door as he took a step back. His focus moved to the floor, evaluating where he needed to put his foot, then he looked up once again. One of the figures shifted, and he almost froze, but he forced himself to keep going. He had to get out of the building and somewhere safe.

  Naya was lighter than he was and seemed to be able to pick her way across the room more easily, and he was still only halfway to the door by the time she’d made it outside. She watched him from the sidewalk, her big eyes moving from him to the dark room as his gaze bounced from the doorway he was fleeing to the floor then to the girl. He took another step, looked at the dark room, glanced down, stepped, moved his focus to Naya. He was almost there.

  A scraping sound echoed through the room, and once again, Angus almost froze. He forced himself to keep walking, though, this time his focus solely on the dark room. He half expected one of the creatures to come screeching from the blackness, but nothing did, and then, to his relief, he reached the door and was stepping outside.

  He grabbed Naya’s arm and pulled her away from the building. “Come on. We gotta find a place!”

  The area was in shambles, though, every building crumbling. They were in a drier part of the country now, possibly part of what used to be tornado alley. It explained why only one building was still standing, because even in the most rundown towns they’d come across, he’d been able to find a small room to barricade himself in. Not here, though.

  Desperate for a solution, Angus stopped in the middle of the street. The road beneath his feet was cracked and fissured and dotted with potholes, covered in dead leaves. Weeds and even bushes had grown, forcing their way through the crevices left behind by nature and time, and rusted out cars lined what used to be the sidewalk. It had fared better than the road since it was made of concrete, but even it was cracked in places and overgrown with foliage. The abandoned vehicles, too, were covered in greenery, and most had their doors hanging open. The interiors wouldn’t do since they were missing windows, but maybe, if they got lucky, they might be able to hide in a trunk. He’d done it before, but it had been years. Still, it seemed like the only option at the moment, because the sun would soon be setting, and they were running out of time.

  “Follow me,” he said even though he hadn’t let go of Naya.

  He started moving again, this time focusing on the cars. Most were so surrounded by foliage it was tough to tell what kind of shape they were in, but that didn’t stop him from pushing the weeds aside so he could get a look at the vehicles they concealed. The trunk of the first one was open, and the interior rusted through in places, giving him a glimpse of the cracked pavement beneath. He moved to the next, pulling Naya with him. The trunk wasn’t open, forcing him to release the girl’s arm. He rushed to the driver’s side door, which hung open, almost backing away when he spotted a human skull on the front seat. It smiled up at him, its eye sockets empty but giving off the impression that they were watching everything he did. He pushed the thought away and got busy searching under the dashboard, pulling the lever once he found it. He hadn’t been sure it would still work after all these years, but to his shock, a click followed, and the trunk popped open.

  Naya was already studying the interior of the trunk when he rejoined her, the expression on her face telling him she understood what he was doing.

  She felt around then looked back at him. “There’s a release inside.”

  He glanced in, saw the little plastic pull, and turned his gaze back to her. “How’d you know ’bout that?”

  “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to hide in a trunk.” She climbed in, scooting as far back as she could, then waved for Angus to join her. “Come on.”

  He looked toward the horizon, which now had only a sliver of orange remaining, then back to the building they’d just fled. The sky was pitch black in that direction. The creatures would be up soon.

  Angus set the bow and quiver of arrows on the ground, knowing there wouldn’t be enough room and that they’d be safe, then climbed in after the girl. Once he’d arranged himself, he pulled the trunk shut, and the click it made sounded oddly final. Like a nail in a coffin. He hoped that wasn’t the case.

  Chapter Twenty

  It was going to be a long night. Naya was crushed against the back of the trunk, but at least she was smaller. Angus’s legs were curled, and he was lying on his side. The floor was hard and musty, and within seconds the air had warmed, making breathing uncomfortable.

  “Have you ever startled a big group of them when they were sleeping?” Naya asked, her voice low.

  He swallowed. “Once.”

  As usual, silence followed the admission, but he knew Naya was waiting to find out if he would respond. It was the story he’d avoided telling her, though. The one that would hurt the most.

  It had happened only a couple months before Senoia fell for good, on a crisp autumn day that started off so sweet Angus still had a difficult time wrapping his head around how it all ended. One moment he’d awakened to Parv’s smiling face, and the next he was holding her as she slipped away.

  It hadn’t been that fast, but that was how it felt when he looked back on it all. He and Parv had started the day off with a bang, waking to the sun shining through their bedroom window, and he’d pulled her against him and kissed her softly. He could still remember the little sigh she’d let out as his lips brushed hers, then traveled down her neck. It had been a sound of utter contentment. The kind of noise a person made when everything was right with the world.

  Being together had acted as a cocoon, protecting them from everything that had happened. They’d watched nearly all their friends die, but when they were together, the darkness seemed to slip away, leaving only happiness. It had made Angus feel like everything was going to be okay. He and Parv would get through this plague just like they had the virus and the zombies, whole and unscathed, and together until the very end. That morning, he’d felt no different.

  They’d kissed and held each other longer than they should have before finally dragging themselves from bed, and as they’d dressed for
the day, Angus had found it nearly impossible to keep his eyes off his wife.

  “What?” she’d asked after his tenth stolen glance in as many minutes.

  “Just lookin’ at you, is all,” he’d replied, smiling and totally unashamed.

  She’d returned his grin, the skin at the corners of her eyes crinkling, her laugh lines deepening and making her look more her age. He remembered watching as she ran her fingers through her dark hair, marveling at the gray that had spread over the past year. How it shone under the sunlight streaming in through the windows, and how much he loved the idea of watching it spread as the years wore on. When he was younger, Angus had never given the idea of growing old with another person more than a moment’s thought, but now it was on his mind constantly, because it was Parv, and he couldn’t imagine anything more amazing than spending his final years with her at his side.

  The smile had stayed on her face as she tied the red bandana around her head, her brown eyes twinkling with happiness like she could read his mind and was basking under his adoration. They’d held hands as they headed downstairs, hers small in his and soft despite the callouses left over from years of hard work.

  As usual, the house had been quiet that morning, and they’d found Vivian in the kitchen already making breakfast. She’d looked up when they walked in, her eyes rimmed in dark circles that seemed to get more pronounced with each passing day. She’d lost more than the rest of them, and it had taken its toll on her. She was having trouble sleeping and had lost more weight than she could afford to, but she was hanging in there, and Angus knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’d eventually bounce back. It wasn’t in her to give up.

  “Morning,” she said, forcing out a smile that looked more like a grimace. “I made some eggs.”

  “Thanks.” Parv stopped at her friend’s side, resting a hand on her arm. “You okay this morning?”

  “I’m alive.” Vivian had given a little shrug.