Broken World | Novel | Angus

by Mary, Kate L.

  “Good,” was all Parv said before turning to make herself some tea.

  It was the same conversation they had every morning, and while Vivian’s answer hadn’t changed, the sadness behind the words had eased a little more each day. Parv, too, seemed less tense when she asked the question, her concern lessening as the days wore on and Vivian slowly began to heal.

  Once they were sitting at the table, each with a cup of steaming tea and a plate of eggs in front of them, Vivian had cleared her throat. “What’s on the agenda today?”

  “Gonna set some traps,” Angus said, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Hopefully catch somethin’ before the sun goes down.”

  He shoveled the eggs in as Vivian nodded thoughtfully, her hands wrapped around the mug like she was trying to warm them.

  “Mind if I tag along?”

  Parv froze with her own mug less than an inch from her lips. “You want to come?”

  “I think it’s about time to move on with life. I’m not the only one who’s lost people I love.” She gave Parv a sympathetic look. “I told you once that you weren’t alone. Do you remember that?”

  “When we were on the way to Atlanta and we stopped at the church.” Parv exhaled like a heaviness had settled over her with the memory and she was trying to push it away. “I’d been so angry and hurt for months, and you were tired of my shit.”

  “I was afraid you were going to give up. Like Winston.”

  Silence followed the statement, and even though no one mentioned it, Angus knew Parv and Vivian were also thinking of Lila. Only two months had passed since she and the kids were killed, and the wound was still raw for all of them.

  After a second, Vivian shook her head like she was trying to push the memory away. “The point is, I don’t want to worry the only two people I have left in this world.”

  “You have Dragon too,” Parv pointed out.

  Vivian nodded but shrugged at the same time. “It’s not the same. You know how he’s been the last few years.”

  “A drunk,” Angus had said, his words bitter.

  He hadn’t touched the stuff since the night Margot died, too afraid what might happen if he lost control again. Dragon, however, had amped up his drinking after that night. Angus wasn’t sure if the other man blamed himself or if he was just trying to block out the horror of this world, but things had only gotten worse after Glitter’s death. He’d been her surrogate father while Angus was locked up and had grown attached to her. Angus wasn’t sure what it said about him that he’d been able to cope while Dragon hadn’t, whether it was weakness that made the other man fall victim to his vices, or if he’d simply reached his limit. It didn’t matter, either. Angus would fight until the day he died.

  “He’s damaged,” Vivian clarified, “barely present.”

  “Whatever,” Angus grumbled, shocked by how much he sounded like his old self.

  “Anyway,” Vivian went on, “my point is, I don’t want to do that to you guys. It’s time for me to get back to a normal routine, which means pitching in when it comes to hunting and scavenging.”

  “We’re happy to have you,” Parv said, tilting her mug toward Vivian.

  They’d finished breakfast and cleaned up the kitchen before heading out, each of them armed and carrying an empty bag so they could bring back anything they found or killed. The area surrounding the walls of Senoia had been cleaned out years ago—before the CDC fell, even—but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t come across things in the wild that might be useful.

  The settlement was quiet as they walked down the street toward the gate. Too quiet. It illustrated how much had changed in recent months and how few people were left. There had been a time not that long ago when the town had bustled during this time of the day. People would have been hard at work, washing and hanging clothes, tending to gardens, or making repairs on their homes. Now, though, they only passed a handful of people on their way out, and every single one of them looked haggard and spooked, almost like they were afraid the sun would suddenly set, and the creatures would swoop in from out of nowhere.

  The mood was catching, making Angus tense and on edge, and he found himself looking around as they waited for the gate to open. He didn’t know what he was keeping an eye out for since the creatures didn’t come out during the day, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.

  It eased once they’d left the settlement behind, though, walking in silence through what had once been a quaint town in Georgia, heading for the nearby woods where they would set their traps.

  The day was alive with activity. Birds flew from branch to branch, calling out to one another in cheerful tunes that echoed through the trees, while small rodents scratched at the ground or scurried for safety at the sound of the approaching humans. Dead leaves crunched underfoot as Angus, Parv, and Vivian walked, and the wind whistled through the forest, rustling the foliage and making branches click together. It was so different than nighttime, which was quiet except for the occasional howl from the creatures as they hunted, that it helped the last little bit of unease melt from Angus. They were safe during the day. They could go into the forest and not worry about being hunted by an unearthly being that lived only to sink its teeth into human flesh. They could walk hand in hand, allowing the sunshine to warm their faces, and know nothing would interrupt their reverie.

  “It’s a beautiful day,” Vivian said.

  “That it is.” Angus’s gaze had moved to his wife, whose head was bobbing.

  They traveled a bit farther before stopping to set up the first round of traps. Creating the delicate snares was almost second nature to Angus now, and Parv, too, acted as if she could do it in her sleep, and in no time, they had a few set up and were moving on.

  They repeated the process in three more areas, keeping the grouping of snares spread out but close enough that they wouldn’t have to travel far to check them. Once that was done, there was nothing to do but wait. And hope.

  During this part of their trip, Angus and Parv would typically sit in a blind and hope some unsuspecting game would cross their paths, but Vivian was with them today, and since she wasn’t much of a hunter, Angus wasn’t sure how to proceed.

  He headed to their usual area anyway, pausing once they’d reached it.

  “We usually climb up there,” he said, waving to the tree stand he’d mounted more than ten years ago.

  Vivian looked up, lifting a hand to shield her eyes and squinting. Her lips pressed together, thinning out and emphasizing the lines beside her mouth. They’d gotten more pronounced lately—probably due to the weight she’d lost—but she was no less attractive than she’d been the day Angus and Axl picked her up on Route 66. Her looks had matured with age, making her appear not old, but distinguished, despite the gray now streaked in her dark blonde hair.

  “I remember sitting here with Axl.” Her gaze was still on the tree stand. “I’d come out with him to check the traps, then stay while he hunted.” Her lips pulled up into a sad smile, and she turned her focus on Angus, dropping her hand to her side. “I don’t suppose there’s room for three of us up there, though.”

  “It’s a tight fit with two,” Parv said.

  Vivian let out a sigh. “I figured as much. I can stay down here. Maybe do some scavenging. Who knows? I might find some wild carrots or onions or something else useful.”

  “You sure?” Angus asked.

  He hated the idea of her being on her own but told himself it wouldn’t matter. There was nothing really dangerous in the area anymore except a wild animal or two, and they were skittish around people these days—too used to the zombies, probably. Animals were more likely to run at the sight of a human than attack.

  “I’ll be okay,” Vivian said, smiling as she looked around. “It’s nice to be out here. Relaxing.”

  “Be careful,” Parv said.

  “I will.”

  Angus and Parv stood side by side as Vivian walked off, her steps sure, her head up, and a smile on her face. She looked better th
an she had in months, and it was a relief. Angus had never really thought Vivian would give up the way Winston or Lila had, but he’d been worried about her anyway. Worried the losses would change her, chip away at the person she was until he didn’t recognize her anymore.

  “She’s going to be okay,” Parv said as if reading his mind.

  He tore his gaze from his sister-in-law’s back and focused on his wife. “I know.”

  Parv smiled.

  He mounted the tree stand first, wanting to make sure it was still safe before Parv climbed up. The small metal platform secured to the trunk was just big enough for two, and to Angus’s relief, it didn’t wobble in the least when he pulled himself onto it. He and Axl had set it up back when they first moved to Senoia, and even though it had started to rust in places, it felt as sturdy as it had ten years ago.

  Less than a minute after he’d gotten settled, Parv pulled herself up and took a seat at his side. They weren’t too high, fifteen feet off the ground at the most, but the position gave them an excellent view of their surroundings. If any large game headed their way, there was no way they’d miss it.

  They were silent out of necessity, but it was a comfortable way to sit. Side by side, each of them holding a bow, Angus’s hand resting on his wife’s knee. Parv was alert, her gaze trained on the surrounding forest as she waited for an animal to appear, but Angus found it impossible to take his eyes off her. At the time, he hadn’t known why he couldn’t stop staring, he’d just known no matter how many times he told himself he needed to be ready, he couldn’t stop his gaze from straying. He’d felt mesmerized by Parv that day. Had found himself tracing the lines of her face with his gaze, memorizing them, soaking her in like he was on the verge of dehydration and she was a cool glass of water.

  He was still looking at her when she shifted, moving to lift her bow, her arrow nocked and ready. Angus had jolted from his stupor and followed her gaze, which was trained on the distant forest, to find a doe hesitantly picking its way through the bushes. Its ears were up, its eyes huge as she looked around. The left ear twitched when Parv pulled the string of her bow back, but the animal didn’t seem aware of their presence. It was more like it was being cautious.

  Parv had been a crack shot from the beginning, and that day was no different. She released her arrow, and it flew through the air, hitting its mark with no problem. The deer jumped as if startled and stumbled a few steps before taking off, dashing into the forest and out of sight.

  “It won’t get far,” Parv said, shifting so she could throw her bow over her shoulder. Then she was climbing down.

  Angus followed, still feeling like he was half in a trance. By the time he reached the ground, Parv was already on the move, her gaze focused on the forest floor as she searched for the trail of blood that would tell them which way to go.

  Finding its trail was easy—she’d hit the animal’s vital organs as intended—and they headed off, tracking the deer’s progress through the forest.

  Angus hadn’t thought the animal would get far, but he’d been proven wrong before. Sometimes, the will to live carried you farther than you were intended to go—something he’d seen in both humans and animals. They tromped through the forest, their boots crunching against the ground as animals darted for cover. The drops grew closer together. Bigger. Still, they didn’t find the animal.

  He was getting frustrated by the time they came to the old train tunnel. He’d seen it before—they’d been all over those woods by that point—but he’d never bothered going in. It was long and curved, the exit impossible to see, and pitch black. Not exactly appealing. Too bad for them, the deer seemed to have no such concerns about the darkness.

  They stopped at the entrance, staring into the black abyss in silence.

  “Could just let it go and hope we got somethin’ in the traps,” Angus said.

  Parv exhaled, her gaze moving from the tunnel to the forest at their backs, her mouth turning down. “I hate letting it go. I mean, it can’t have gotten much farther.”

  “It was a good shot,” Angus agreed.

  Parv looked up at him, her lips now an exaggerated frown. “You have a light?”

  “You know I do,” he said.

  He handed his wife the bow while he slid his backpack from his shoulder, unzipping it so he could pull out the old-fashioned lantern and two pieces of flint. More than ten years had gone by since they had electricity, and lighting the thing took no time at all. Then Parv had handed his bow back to him and they’d headed inside, Angus holding the light low as they walked, illuminating the ground and the trail of blood left by the deer. The puddles were bigger now, as if the animal had been moving slower as well as bleeding more. They’d have to come across it soon.

  Ten feet in, and the darkness seemed to engulf them. The sound of their footsteps bounced off the walls in a taunting way, and the wind howled into the tunnel from behind them, brushing his hair into his face and creating an eerie sound that when joined with the other noises made him feel like he was walking into a haunted house. There was something else as well, though. Something he couldn’t quite place. A scratching of some kind.

  Angus told himself it was just an animal. A rat or maybe even something bigger. An opossum or raccoon. Despite how hard he tried to assure himself, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and that uneasy feeling from before they left the settlement returned. His heart was pounding harder, sweat beading on his upper lip despite how chilly it was in the tunnel. Something was wrong.

  “Parv,” he whispered, reaching out with his free hand to stop her. “I think we oughta turn back.”

  He felt like he’d been here before. Like he’d said this before.

  “We have to be close,” she said, her voice soft. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  Axl. This felt so similar to the night Axl died. Angus had wanted to turn back then, too, but his brother had refused to listen, and he’d paid for it with his life.

  The realization slammed into Angus just as the little circle of light surrounding them illuminated the deer’s hooves. He froze, partly out of shock, but also because the bad feeling had grown.

  “There!” Parv said, her voice rising and bouncing off the walls, coming back over and over again as if trying to emphasize her excitement.

  She moved closer, and Angus lifted the light, extending his arm to illuminate more of the area. The animal’s hindquarters came into view then, followed by its body. The arrow was sticking from its torso, directly above its front leg, but there was something wrong. Something Angus couldn’t quite figure out. He’d known the deer would be bleeding, Parv had shot it, and they’d followed the trail through the woods, but there was a lot of blood. Too much. It was pooled on the rocky ground beneath the deer, shimmering red in the faint light from Angus’s lantern and smeared across the animal’s light brown fur. Why was there so much blood?

  He lifted the light higher, and the rest of the deer came into view, as did the creature. Its hands were wrist deep in the deer’s body, its fingers working as it tried to pry meat from bones when it lifted its head. In the limited light, the black veins zigzagging across its pale skin seemed twice as black, and its milky eyes less focused. That didn’t stop fear from rushing through Angus when it opened its mouth and howled. Didn’t stop Parv from swearing and pulling her knife.

  The creature pulled itself over the dead deer, blood dripping from its chin, its mouth open and painted red. It howled again, and then it was on its feet, and Angus was moving forward. In his haste to reach Parv, he’d dropped the lantern, but it thankfully hadn’t gone out. It fell to the ground at the deer’s feet, casting a soft glow that made the scene in front of them look like something out of a horror movie.

  He pushed Parv back, putting himself between his wife and danger, and was ready when the creature leapt. It slammed into Angus, sending him flying, and he landed on his back. He was prepared, though, his knife already out, and when the creature opened its mouth, ready to take a
bite out of him, Angus slammed his blade into its head, sending it deep into the hybrid’s brain.

  The creature fell, pinning Angus to the ground, but only for a second before he shoved it off. He sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to calm his breathing. This was the last time, he told himself. Next time he had a bad feeling about something, he would insist Parv listen. He didn’t care if he came across as an asshole if it kept her safe, because this had been too close. Too terrifying.

  He was still replaying what had happened when the echo of scratching started up. It seemed to surround them, to fill the tunnel and every inch of space. He scrambled to his feet, moving toward Parv as he did, his gaze darting around. The light was still glowing where it lay on the ground, but it only illuminated a small area around them. Everything else was black.

  Angus grabbed the light, lifted it, and more of the tunnel came into view. At first, he couldn’t figure out what he was seeing. The darkness seemed to ripple like water, and it made no sense. Then his eyes adjusted to the sight and reality slammed into him. It wasn’t the darkness that was moving, it was the dozens of creatures that had taken refuge in the tunnel for the day. The wind shifted, and that was when the sickly-sweet aroma filled his nostrils. Like rotting fruit or yeast. It wrapped around them, making his stomach twist, and he had to swallow down the bile the rose in his throat.

  “Run,” he said, not taking his eyes off the sight in front of him. “Run, Parv!”

  He didn’t even bother keeping his voice low. There was no point. The creatures knew they were there.

  Her feet scraped against the ground even as her hands grabbed at him. He moved with her, running backward, allowing her to pull him toward the exit, but he couldn’t look away. He watched as the hybrids turned, began to shift, began to move their way. Parv was pulling on him, and he was moving as fast as he could, turned sideways so he was no longer running backward, but refusing to take his eyes off the threat. The opening of the tunnel was visible, but the bright light didn’t make it very far into the darkness. Still, if they could make it there, if they could reach the sunlight, they would be safe. The creatures wouldn’t follow them outside. Not with as bright as it was.