A World Fallen

by Carter, Nicholas Lawrence

  “Whatever you decide is what we’ll go with.”

  Karo takes another long moment before speaking.

  “We have to go through it. We need as much daylight as possible while searching the buildings.”

  “Alright.”

  “Move slowly, don’t speak, and be on high alert.”

  Karo enters the brush first, moving slowly, and Jack follows. The rainfall adds an unexpected benefit in this densely wooded area, the wet ground prevents leaves from crackling. Unfortunately the constant slapping of moisture on their bodies makes it harder for Karo to know if he’s being painted with fresh blood left on the trees and plants, or just water.

  The wooded area is long in distance, but shallow in depth. The two make it through the unwelcomed determent in under an hour. The road they passed on their initial travel to the trailer is now visible, and from what Karo remembers the buildings aren’t too far from where they are currently.

  Their travel remains quiet until they reach the paved road. To Jack’s surprise it’s Karo who strikes their conversation back up.

  “How’d you find the boy?”

  “Patrick? Stroke of luck, I guess. We stumbled upon him laid out on a creek bed.”

  “How’d you know he wasn’t a diseased?”

  “We didn’t at first. We thought he was just a dead person. We watched him for a few minutes and Norman could see he was breathing, but it was shallow. We’d never seen a diseased like that.”

  “So you took a risk?”

  “An educated guess. He was dirty, had self inflicted cuts on his arms, was malnourished, and there were fresh splotches of vomit around him. It was clear he was sick. He’s a kid, we couldn’t just leave him there.”

  “He could’ve been infected and you’d all be dead now.”

  “It was a chance we were willing to take if it meant saving a kid’s life.”

  “Not an educated move.”

  “No, I guess not, but it was the right one.”

  Karo doesn't audibly respond in full, but reacts with a bob of his head and a soft grunt. The buildings are in view now. Karo stops them and kneels down. He instructs Jack to lay flat on his stomach, doing the same along with him. They scan the buildings for a good passage of time.

  “What do you know about him?” Karo whispers.

  “What?”

  “Patrick, what do you know about his past?”

  “Not much. He lived with his parents until his father became infected and killed his mother, then he had to kill his father to survive. He’d been on his own since then until we found him.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  Karo rises to his feet, and Jack joins him. They timidly approach the buildings. Karo instructs Jack to stay close, they’re not going to split up. The first building is two stories. Two backrooms upstairs are hidden behind locked doors that Karo decides it’s best not to try and pry open. From the clothing scattered about it’s apparent that once upon a time this store served as some sort of apparel shop. This place doesn’t provide anything of use, putting a damper on their trip.

  The second building appears to have been a sort of general store, and brings a sliver of sunshine as they find a roll each of gauss and duct tape and a two boxes of 9mm bullets. The shop is quite small allowing them to fully search it in less than twenty minutes.

  The third building has bars in the window panes and shelves tipped over behind the broken glass doors. They wont be able to easily enter this place, and as such they leave it be.

  The fourth and final building was a grocery store. Any food they find in here now will be far beyond it’s expiration date, and not worth the trouble of eating. That wont be an issue for them since there isn’t one ounce of packaged food left anywhere in sight, not that they would take any if they found it.

  Jack finds a rusted crowbar left on a water drenched shelf, bringing his collection up to two crowbars. After about two hours of searching the aisles, and not finding anything else of use, Karo moves them to the fairly large stock room in the back. The doors weren’t locked, but the splatters of stained blood gave them a momentary pause.

  Upon entry their nostrils are stuck by an overwhelmingly sour stench. The only light in the humid stockroom comes from the two small windows on the far side, and the slight hint of light breaking through the stockroom doors from rest of the store. Empty boxes are strewn about all over. A dolly resides suspiciously wedged up against the back door, keeping it shut. They are only inside for a few minutes before a morose sense of dread cracks the air like lightning in a storm--something rustles just beyond the view of the faint light breaking past the windows.

  Karo grabs Jack’s arm, gripping him firmly. He slowly retreats them back in the direction of the entrance. A confusing sensation of terror and heat bound down upon Jack in a flash, then he feels another grip upon him--this one pulls at his shirt.

  Jack spins around in a haste filled blaze, the scant light from the sun shines upon a lumbering and decrepit figure looming over him. The foul aroma permeating off this creature clogs his throat, choking him. He tries to call out to Karo, but dry heaves interrupt him.

  The infected reaches out for Jack again, but Jack is pulled away from his grasp. Karo, having felt Jack turn in a furry, didn't need to see the diseased to know what was crashing down upon them. He rips Jack with him to the side, getting clear of the monster. He redirects his attention to see the towering horror following their path.

  The infected moves slowly and with a limp. It only has one arm and half of its face has been eaten away. The transition from living to diseased could not have been pleasant for this one. The rustling from beyond the light is getting closer. There are at least two diseased in this room.

  Karo only has a moment to decide whether or not to use his gun and introduce the potential of alerting more to their presence. He keeps it holstered. Jack has fallen into a stammering state, incoherently rambling under his breath.

  "Give me the other crowbar." Karo whispers.

  Jack's attention turns to Karo, but the words do not register. Karo smacks him across the face, bringing forth a puzzled look from his distressed partner.

  "Get it together! Crowbar, now!"

  Jack nods furiously, sliding his backpack off his shoulders, and pulling the crowbars out. Karo lunges forward in a mad dash, smashing the diseased over the head. It plops to one knee, momentarily stunned. Karo stabs the pronged end of the weapon into its eye socket, knocking the infected to its back. Karo stabs down again into its head, penetrating the soft weathered flesh and splattering brain matter across the floor.

  Jack feels a pressure on his foot. He looks down to see a legless infected clutching his shoe. Instinctual reaction takes over, flooding him.

  "Shit!" he fearfully exclaims.

  He jumps forward, but this diseased has maintained some strength and its grip does not break. Jack tumbles over smacking the floor hard, his crowbar rattles and sings as it meets the concrete. The sound of boxes being pushed in the far reaches of the stockroom pound the air like thunder.

  Jack kicks at the infected clutching his foot. His wild swings miss repeatedly, until fortune slips into his favor and he connects against its face. Its mouth opens showing its jagged and red stained teeth. Jack kicks again, and again, until finally the hold is broken. Jack scurries to his feet.

  The crashing of metal against the floor rings out from the darkness. A frenzy of stomps and stamps slash their ears. A hand grabs Jack's forearm and squeezes with great pressure.

  "GET TO THE DOOR!" Karo screams.

  Jack is pulled forward violently. In a daze of cold sweat and heart pounding emotion he turns his head to see the figure yanking him. Elation washes over him as his eyes set upon Karo's backpack. The hurried man tugs him along to the stockroom entrance.

  They burst through the stockroom doors, their bodies crashing against them with force. Jack stumbles, slipping on a slushy box on his way out. Karo slams the doors shut and presses his
back against them with all his might.

  "Find something big now!" he exclaims.

  Jack pushes himself back to his feet. He frantically looks around the dim grocery store until his gaze meets a cracked and partially toppled over area of a large shelf. He rushes over to it and pulls on it with all his strength. The shelf hums as it breaks apart, but doesn't fully dislodge.

  "I need help!" he screams out.

  Karo grits his teeth and races from the door over to Jack. They tug and pull on the shelf loosening it more with each attempt. Karo backs up several paces from the shelf, then charges forward in a full sprint. He crashes into it hard with his shoulder. He retreats and charges again, this time fully separating it and falling to the floor with it.

  The terror filled men drag the separated shelf portion toward the stockroom doors. As they approach, the left door flings open, smacking loudly against the wall. Karo rushes the infected as it exits the stockroom, his crowbar held high and already positioned for the head.

  The diseased throws its arms up at Karo, inadvertently blocking a portion of his assault. The crowbar jams into the neck of the infected, but this isn't a killing a blow. It screeches and gurgles. This diseased is fresher than the previous one, and still capable. Its hand grabs Karo's hair pulling his head closer. In a scramble Karo rips his gun from the holster. He presses it against the rotting infected head before him and pulls the trigger.

  The infected falls limp. Karo slams his gun back in the holster and helps Jack lift the broken shelf portion. They slam it on the door, angling it into a wedged position. The pounding of limbs on metal emanates from the other side.

  There's no time to regather their composure. They race off to the entrance of the grocery store, not stopping to check their surroundings. They make a beeline for the road, alerting their course in the direction of the shallow brush they passed through previously.

  In the mad dash of getting as far away from this situation as possible they failed to notice the two Adapted rounding the corner from behind the grocery store. The macabre soulless creatures fix their gazes on the two pounding hearts in need of suffocation fleeing from their location. Once the hurried and unsuspecting foes are almost out of sight the monsters begin their slow, methodical, and deadly pursuit.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The night passed in what seemed like a slow distortion of time. Rosaline laid outside on the deck for hours. Mikey did his best to comfort her. She hadn’t felt a level of sadness this deep since she lost her mother and sister.

  Knowing she has to leave the farm, and Sweetie, has held above her head like a melancholic cloud. More than that, having to take Mikey from the first place he’s called home breaks her heart.

  She didn’t sleep, she laid on the bed waiting for morning to come, allowing Mikey to be rested for their resumed travel. At some point in the night she packed up all their things, making sure to do so quietly, so as not to disturb the slumbering child.

  About an hour before the sun rose she heard someone walking down the hall. She was able to gauge where the sound came from and surmised it was Sweetie. She wanted to rush out of the room and talk to her, but Rosaline was too nervous. Being shy around someone has been new to her. The feeling of butterflies in her stomach whenever she sees Sweetie’s face has been jarring but also elating and wonderful.

  She allowed herself to cry once more, alone in the dark, silently to herself. After the sun had been up, for what she estimated to be about thirty minutes, she woke Mikey. She didn’t want to face anyone, and she didn’t want Mikey to have to say any goodbyes.

  She and Mikey gather their things, a light load, creep out of their room, tip-toe down the hall, and descend the stairs for the last time. Knowing she couldn’t handle a final look around, Rosaline made a beeline for the front door.

  As they pass the kitchen Mikey notices the table is set for two. He tugs on Rosaline’s sleeve, alerting her to the strange occurrence. A shirt lay bunched up on the table between the two plates. A plain white shirt, one Rosaline remembers seeing Sweetie wear. On the shirt the words ‘You can’t leave hungry’ have been written in strawberry juice

  Even through the aroma of the sweet fruit Rosaline can smell the effervescent Latina’s singular scent. It is at once a comfort and a sadness. She pulls the shirt away from her face, now noticing the odd look the little boy is giving her. She shakes away those feelings.

  “I guess we should eat, huh?” she says, looking down at Mikey.

  Craving the sweet food, the child doesn’t respond, instead hurrying to the table and grabbing a handful of strawberries. Rosaline joins him, savoring the food she knows Sweetie touched.

  After they finish their breakfast Rosaline takes the rag from the bucket on the counter next to the sink and cleans the plates. Her gazes moves up to the window that resides above the sink. She scans over the farm, taking in the beauty of this settlement. She sees the barn doors open and Sweetie walk out. She’s carrying water pails, Rosaline knew this was on her chore list, and was hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

  Upon seeing the familiar woman, Rosaline’s eyes beam, only briefly, before her stomach turns and despair sets in again. She watches Sweetie for a long moment, relishing in the wondrous aura that swirls around her. It isn’t long before something else catches her eye, it’s slight and slow, and she’s barely able to glimpse it before the barn blocks her view.

  Her eyes twitch and readjust, trying to find the oddity again. Mikey moves to her, but she shows her palm to him, halting the question he was surely about to ask. She squints, studying the back corner of the barn intently.

  A dizzying horror bounds upon her as her initial suspicion is confirmed, there is a diseased on the farm. The infected is on the other side of the barn, swaying ever so slightly in and out of her view. Sweetie isn’t more than twenty yards away from it, and she doesn’t appear to be aware of its presence.

  Without her gaze moving, Rosaline unstraps her backpack with purpose, and lays it on the counter. She retrieves, and equips, the gloves and goggles. She removes the hammer and grips it tightly. She softly speaks to Mikey, her eyes still fixated on the unwelcomed guest outside.

  “Go upstairs, wake everyone up, gather them together in a room, lock the door, and tell them a diseased is outside. I’m gonna go get Sweetie and send her to you, then I’m gonna kill that thing.”

  The child doesn’t hesitate or question her, he leaves her side with haste, making his way to the stairs. Just as he is about to take his first ascending step Rosaline calls to him again.

  “Make sure it’s Sweetie before you open the door.”

  He nods knowing she can’t see it, and that she doesn’t need to. She listens for the creaking of his footsteps on the stairs, and once she hears it she rushes to the back door.

  She doesn’t waste any time exiting the house and getting to the corner. She takes a deep, heavy breath, then peers around the building. Sweetie is halfway between the house and barn, sitting on a stump, cleaning the buckets. Her back is to Rosaline, making this more difficult than she would like.

  She can’t call out to her. She can’t make any noticeable noise. She can’t sneak up on her, in case she frightens the unaware woman. She can’t grab her from behind, Sweetie would surely struggle, and a bucket could get knocked about.

  Rosaline puts her finger to her lips and slowly begins approaching Sweetie. All she can do is hope she catches the Puerto Rican’s attention, and that her first instinct will be to trust Rosaline, and not freak out at the sight of the goggled hammer wielder.

  She gently kicks up dirt as she closes the distance between them, hoping the sound will be enough to catch Sweetie’s attention. For the time being luck swings to her side, and Sweetie pivots on her make shift stool to see the petite warrior advancing toward her.

  Rosaline stops, her finger still to her lips. She’s relieved to see Sweetie’s brow curl as she remains silent. Rosaline slowly pats at the air, palm down, then points to the barn, and finally, with h
er fingers, beckons Sweetie to come to her.

  The Latina gingerly places the bucket on the ground, and rises from her seated position. She slowly paces toward the awaiting woman. When she is in range, Rosaline extends her hand, and Sweetie takes it without question. Rosaline pulls her in, wrapping her free arm around her waist, and retreats them to the corner of the house.

  They get to the back door and quickly enter the house. Once inside Sweetie faces Rosaline.

  “What’s goin' on nena?” she asks, her voice low and filled with concern.

  “There’s a diseased behind the barn. There’s probably more. Mikey gathered everyone upstairs, join them. I’ll take care of this.”

  Rosaline turns from her and grips the door knob, but before she can turn it Sweetie grabs her arm.

  “Hey.”

  She tenderly tugs on Rosaline, pulling them closer together. With longing resting in her gaze, her lips part again, but she hesitates for a moment, then pulls Rosaline in, hugging her firmly.

  “Be careful nena.” she whispers into Rosaline’s ear.

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  They separate, Sweetie places her hands on Rosaline’s face.

  “Don’t let anything happen to you.”

  Rosaline’s face flushes, her eyes stinging red, she nods.

  “Go.”

  Their connection holds for another moment, then Sweetie hurries to the stairs. Her foot hits the first step and she stops. She peers around the wall, only to find a closed back door. Anxious and afraid, her mind races as she ascends the stairs. She’s confidant Rosaline is capable, and yet she still worries. No matter what she tries to convince herself of, she cares about that woman, differently than she has for any other.

  Her pace quickens as she nears the top of the stairs. All of the bedroom doors are closed. She knows her brother isn’t a light sleeper, and not a morning person, it makes sense they would’ve gathered in his room. She knocks on the door, but there is no answer.