A World Fallen

by Carter, Nicholas Lawrence

  Her eyes glow, her skin radiates, the hair on her arms perks to attention. “This is love.” she thinks to herself. “This is why we live, for these moments. The small, intimate, quiet ones.” She kisses him again, running her hand through his black hair.

  “I love you.” she says.

  Her words are soft and soothing. They encapsulate everything there is to know about her. He sheepishly grins, feeling like a young boy infatuated for the first time.

  “I love you too.”

  “So,-” her green eyes twinkle as she picks at him- “about this work you’ve been going on about all morning?”

  “Yeah, we should get to that, huh?” he replies, not wanting to let her go.

  She leans in and kisses him again. Harder and with more passion than before. She runs her finger along his cheek, then his jawline, tilting her head, her eyes following her own digit

  “For we are mighty and ripe, sweet prince, and the world will be our oyster.” she whispers.

  “You amaze.”

  A smitten look fills him, a half grin upon him, his wonder not allowing the full formation.

  “And you inspire.”

  She gently breaks their hold, her gaze shifts down to the stones and wood

  “Let’s finish the pit.”

  He hesitates for a moment, then bends down to help her.

  “They’re going further west than we’ve gone before.”

  His tone does not hide his worry, nor does his expression.

  “Hey.” -she waits for him to look at her- “It’s going to be alright. Rad knows what he’s doing.”

  Her attempt at comfort works, as usual. She’s motherly without having ever been a mother, or even had siblings to help care for. She is the glue that holds their little family together. Among them this is an agreed upon adage.

  Hawaii and Zee fill the passing hours of building the fire pit with playful banter and shared gleeful glances. Usually, reconstructing the pit area is a quick job, however they had to use their chair stumps for fire wood. It rained a few days ago causing their wood retrieval mission to be delayed until today.

  After the pit, and new stump chairs, had been constructed Hawaii returned to the barn to put away their tools. They were lucky to find this place, especially so far out. This fact is not lost on him. When they happened upon the property the house had worn down, and the roof to the barn was largely dilapidated.

  They spent almost a year repairing the house and the barn, and fortifying their new home to suitable and safe living conditions. It isn’t perfect, but it’s the best they’ve had in years. There isn’t a day that passes that Hawaii isn’t thankful for this.

  “Whatcha doing ko’u aloha?”

  Zee’s question brings Hawaii back to the present. He turns around to see her standing in the doorway of the barn. The sunlight shines in from behind her, illuminating her figure, and casting a seductive shadow over him. Without even trying she manages to take his breath away.

  “I love when you speak my tongue.” he says, sauntering over to her.

  She raises her brow and bites her lip.

  “I love when you do other things with your tongue.” she replies, as seductively as she has ever been.

  “It’s been a while since we’ve had sex in the barn.”

  He is not coy in his intentions, and her reaction aptly conveys her understanding.

  “Hmmm, I think you’re inferring something, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  He chuckles as he pulls her into his arms. She wraps a leg around his hip. She giggles as he kisses her neck. She runs her hand along the back of his head, taking in the passion of the moment. She grabs a handful of his hair and pulls his head away from her body. She stares deeply into his eyes.

  “You are a dragon, and I a fairy, and we shall play until the days no longer count.”

  Her words entrance him. Her essence woos him.

  “I don’t know how you do that, but I love it.

  His reply is soft and kind, his hands on her body gentle, she leans back into him. Their lips collide in a glorious display of fervorous affection.

  ◆◆◆

  Zee sits up from the grass, her arms propping her upward. Her hair falls onto her face, covering her cheek. Her smile has not faded in minutes. She gazes over the wonder of the lover she has come to know so intimately.

  “You know, you’re not half bad at that.” she teases.

  “I give all the credit to you ko’u aloha.” he lovingly replies.

  She throws her head back being as animated as she can.

  “Ah yes, me, a woman of the world and a woman of the land.”

  Her joy elicits laughter from him. He brushes the hair from her face.

  “If you were land, it would be the only land for me.”

  Without a moments pause she places her hand upon his cheek.

  “For if you were land, and I an explorer, my roots would be settled here and now.”

  “Alright, showoff. We’re not all poetic like you.”

  She kicks a leg into the air and sticks her tongue out at him, scrunching her face in a mocking manner. The two lovers resume their chores, a daily schedule that Zee sets up for everyone at the beginning of each week. He reorganizes the barn moving all of their most important equipment to the front and their lesser used items to the back.

  Zee tends to the small fruit garden on the far side of house near the back perimeter. It’s not much yet, but from her previous knowledge of the garden in their former community, Zee has been successful in growing strawberries and the first year stalks of blackberries.

  Across the yard from the fruit garden Zee has also started work on a vegetable garden. The expansion of this is a new endeavor for her. About a year ago she planted some bush bean seeds they were fortunate enough to find in the house. Vegetables and fruit aren’t abundant in this area, but she has managed to find some apple trees that they pick every few months, and she transplanted some turnips and eggplant to the garden.

  Together they clean the house and make sure their safety measures are intact. Hawaii is thorough in his planning, and as such they finish their duties with an hour to spare before night falls. They settle down around their fire pit. Hawaii starts the fire, and sits next to Zee.

  They’ve known each other their whole lives and still they never tire of each others company. They started dating before they even knew what the word meant. In this rotted, carnage filled, decaying world a love like theirs shouldn’t exist, but it does, and it burns brighter and fuller with each passing day.

  It’s not long after dark, maybe two hours or so, when the others return with more fire wood. Not nearly as much as Hawaii had hoped for, but any is better than the very little they had left.

  They laugh and converse, poking fun at Rad’s failure at chopping a tree down. In the midst of their jovial gathering, during a break in the action, an unusual sound rips into Rad’s ears. He jumps from his seat and grabs one of the rifles. He points it to where he heard the sound.

  “Did you hear that?” the large faux lumberjack says.

  Sweetie hastily joins him.

  “I did.”

  “Hear what?” Zee inquires.

  Hawaii motions for silence. He turns his head toward the tree line and listens. The wind is low on this night. There’s no bustling coming from the woods as their generally is, yet, something feels off. This sensation courses through his bones. He grabs a rifle and walks ahead of Rad and Sweetie by several paces.

  The Family stare intently at the tree line. They listen carefully. They wait. Then, it happens. A woman steps out. Just as they do, she also has a gun. The light from the burning cinders of the fire barely reach her. She’s small and short, and even in the dim glow of the fire it's easy to see that she's quite tan and has long raven hued hair. That's not what concerns them about her appearance. What concerns them is that this woman is dirty, and she is shaking. Tell tale signs of a diseased, but her gun states something else. They have never w
itnessed an infected carry a weapon.

  “What do you want?” Hawaii asks.

  She doesn’t respond. She stands before them trembling, nervous, and certainly afraid. This sight does not ease them, no, it only furthers their fright.

  “You lookin' to steal from us?” Rad shouts at her.

  “NO!” the stranger hastily responds.

  Her answer was quick, but her words ring hallow. She’s lying, Hawaii is certain of it. The woman before them breathes in deeply and continues speaking before any of them can question her again.

  She says, “My name is Rosaline. I don’t want to hurt anyone."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Since the car accident the disheveled family has been walking for four days to reach Pete's house, Markus’ brother. Kylie didn’t regain her full composure until the second day. Patrick has not taken to the journey well. He’s spent the majority of his waking hours crying.

  They’re fortunate that the roads they've traveled on the way to Pete’s have been largely unoccupied, save for a few passing cars in the distance that did not halt their travels. Regardless of that Markus has kept them in fields and woods, a good distance away from the roads, trying to stay out of view of any wondering eyes that may be around. They haven’t come across any other people or any afflicted, a small victory that has kept Markus going.

  It has been Kylie’s greatest worry that they would stumble across those that are sick before they reach Pete’s. Out in the open their ability to defend themselves is nonexistent.

  As they reach the rise of the hill, Pete’s land and house come into full view. This is the first time Kylie has felt relief in days. Pete and June’s vehicles are both in front of the house. Finally, a good sign. Knowing how his brother is Markus must be cautious as they approach the house. Pete will surely be standing watch and on the lookout for intruders.

  There are no neighboring houses for miles, and no stores or shops of any kind in this area. Only long stretches of land and woods. An ideal setting for Pete. Markus has never appreciated Pete’s propensity for privacy more than he does in this moment.

  Even though Pete’s house is in view it’s still several hundred more yards before they reach his property. He grabs his wife’s hand, his attempt at comfort. She forces a smile, but they both know it’s a false gesture. There isn’t anything to smile about right now. Not even seeing family again.

  They’re afraid and confused, as they imagine many others are. They don’t know what’s going on or how long it will last. While they were in their car there were no radio broadcasts, no calls could be made or received, and no news of any kind as to the state of the world.

  They feel helpless. They are helpless. This is not a future either of them saw coming. This is not a path either of them ever wanted to walk, but it is the situation they find themselves in. They have a child to look after. They have each other to take care of. They have a family to protect.

  Pete’s house is twenty, maybe thirty, yards away now. Markus is surprised there haven't been any warning shots yet. Pete has to be aware of them by now, and from this distance, and angle, there’s no way his brother could know who is approaching.

  This is strange and entirely unexpected. He was sure he would have to convince Pete of who they are and to let them come in. He stops Kylie and asks her to wait with Patrick by the side of the house that doesn't have windows.

  Patrick is awake again and crying. No one has come out of the house to check on the commotion. The curtains and blinds have been drawn on all the windows. At least this is in keeping with how Pete is.

  Markus walks around the house to the front and over to the vehicles. He places his hand on hood of Pete’s truck. It’s cold, and the tire marks do not look to be fresh. He hasn’t driven it in days. He checks June’s SUV to find the same result. This isn’t entirely unusual. He suspected Pete would hold up in the house and avoid people, but driving his truck around the property to check the perimeter would be the most efficient use of time and resources. “Has he not been doing that?” he thinks. A peculiar, and concerning, detail.

  He walks up the small set of stairs that lead to the front porch. He considers knocking. He doesn’t want to walk in the house unannounced and get shot, but being this close to Pete’s house for this long and not being confronted isn’t like his brother.

  He checks the door, it’s locked, as he expected. He presses his ear against the wooden barrier. He doesn’t hear anything coming from inside. His stomach sinks. He remembers something that he can’t believe didn’t hit him until right now; Pete has two dogs. “Where the hell are the dogs?” he wonders, feeling tension build within him.

  Something is off. He needs to get in the house. A sickening feeling gnaws at his insides. His heart pounds faster and faster. This whole situation isn’t right.

  He slowly descends back down the stairs and returns to Kylie at the side of the house. She’s managed to calm Patrick, and the toddler has slipped back into a light sleep. He’s grateful for that.

  “The door is locked. I don’t feel right about this. I’m going to check the windows. If I have to I’m going to break one to get in.” he says.

  She can see the concern painted across his face. His demeanor only serves to further unease her. She does not respond in words, she only nods.

  Pete’s house is two stories. Markus can only check the five windows on the ground level. He checks the two on the porch first. Both locked, of course. He checks the one on the far side of the house and the two around back. All locked. “Damnit Pete.”

  If he’s going to break a window it should be one he’s at level with. He returns to the front porch. He takes his jacket off and wraps it around his arm. He lines his elbow up with the glass then smashes it quickly, and with more force than was probably needed

  He holds still for a long moment and listens. He hears movement coming from inside the house. It sounds like it’s coming from the first floor. He doesn’t see anyone in the living room. He climbs through the window and over the back of the couch that is placed against the wall.

  Upon regaining his footing his mouth drops and his face stretches in confused fright. The entertainment stand has been tipped over. The coffee table is broken. The bookshelves are in disarray. The room is a disaster. He doesn’t hear movement anymore. He quietly makes his way through the living room and to the hallway that leads to the kitchen.

  He turns the corner and stops immediately. His face flushes, his skin crawls, the hair on his arms stands at attention. At the end of the hall is a figure, short, hunched over, and familiar. It is his nephew Ryan. The boy is nine years old and covered in blood. It’s dry and crusted. Markus is a good ten paces from him, but the stench permeating off the child is strong enough that he can smell it just the same as if the child were standing right next to him. It’s putrid and vile. Markus gags, and has to stop himself from vomiting.

  “Ryan, are you okay?” he softly asks.

  Ryan doesn’t move. It seems like the little boy doesn’t even see his uncle standing before him.

  “Ryan, where are your parents?”

  Still the boy doesn’t move. The distraught uncle calls to the child again, raising his voice a minimal amount.

  “Ryan!”

  The boy’s head cocks to the side, his ear turned towards Markus.

  “Are you okay?!” Markus inquires once more.

  The boy’s head snaps to face his worrisome uncle. Suddenly, Ryan takes off in a dead sprint, bounding directly at him. As the boy approaches he lets out a blood curdling screech and stretches his arms out in front of him.

  “Ryan! Stop!” Markus shouts, but the boy does not heed his request.

  Markus grabs his nephew’s out stretched arms and holds him at bay. The young boy chomps at Markus’ hands causing him to keep them raised over his head. '”Did he...just try to bite me?!” he thinks.

  “Ryan, please, stop!”

  The boy's actions do not alter. He continues to snap at the air. Markus' eyes
well without warning, purging from his ducts and over his reddened cheeks with reckless abandon.

  “No, no, no.”

  Markus doesn’t have the strength to keep these words in. They pour from him like a running brook of sorrow. He shoves the boy back.

  “Ryan! Please, stop!” he mutters through his tears.

  The boy screeches and charges him again. He moves to the side and pushes the boy into the living room. The force knocks the child down, but he does not stay prone. He scrambles back to his feet and charges once more. Markus grabs his nephew’s arms and trips him to the floor. He pins him down, sitting on his legs and holding his arms against the floor with one hand.

  "Markus?! Markus?!"

  He hears his wife scream with fear from outside the broken window he entered.

  "Don't come in here Kylie!" he frantically responds.

  "What's going on?! Are you okay?!" she asks, her voice shakes and cracks.

  "No, no. Nothing is okay." his response crawls from him.

  His sobs intensify as he realizes what needs to be done. This little boy barely got to experience life. He will never feel the wind in his hair as he and his friends cruise the back roads basking in their freedom. He will never know the nervous excitement of a first date. He'll never know the joy and heartbreak of a first love.

  This isn't what his life should've been. There was so much more for him to see, to experience. Markus grabs the small marble statue laying on the floor next to him. He holds it over the little boy's head.

  "I'm so sorry Ryan. I love you."

  His tears splash down onto his nephew's face, softening the days old blood covering him. He brings the statue down onto the boy's head, over and over until the child's rigid and morbid struggling has ceased.

  Markus would search the rest of the house after his encounter with his youngest nephew. He would find Ryan’s brother, Charlie, dead in the kitchen, his stomach ripped apart and half of his head missing. His brother Pete sprawled out on his bedroom floor, his face mangled, and his body riddled with bullets. His sister-in-law June laying on the bottom bunk of her children’s bunk-bed. A single bullet hole through bottom of her jaw and exiting the back of her head.