“Only five miles. We could use some supplies, bandages, tape, bullets, anything that can be used as a weapon. It’s been hard to hunt when we only have one gun and knife, and sometimes fishing is taking longer than we’d like.” says Norman.
Karo gestures, then continues on past the sign, keeping to the middle of the road, so as to have enough visibility, as well as distance and time, to react to anything that could potentially jump out at them.
The group treks onward to the small town that lay ahead, hopeful to find anything of use, and to avoid any unwanted determents. Daisy, Norman, and Patrick stay close to Karo as they follow behind him.
The road begins to branch off on either side into numerous streets. A few houses can be seen from the road, but Karo would rather not venture too far down these side paths. It is more probable that houses will have supplies than old stores, as the stores will have defined places for items, making them easier to pillage, and also making that the probability of the items still being inside much smaller.
He did previously spend several hours in a sizeable supply store, resulting in the finding one cooler, four thermoses, but nothing else of use. So, he’s quite confident in his preference of houses over stores for supplies, but houses bring the great danger of a smaller, more confined setting.
The first structure they come upon, that is directly off the road, is a small gas station. The windows are completely busted out, the fuel pumps are black and charred, and the roof is collapsed in. Whatever happened here was brutal, and the sight of it is enough to keep them from closer examination.
Not more than a quarter mile after the gas station, they come across several houses on the either side of the road. These houses are immediately off the road, and not down side roads, as the previous ones were.
Karo gingerly rests the cooler on the road, then unstraps his backpack, retrieves his crowbar, and places his pack on the ground next to the cooler.
“Not taking it with you?” asks Daisy.
“Too bulky, too easy to grab ahold of.”
“Makes sense.”
Norman moves closer to the cooler, not wanting it be unsecured, then regards Karo.
“What do you want us to do?”
“Just wait here.”
“Three houses, it would be quicker if we each searched one, and Patrick stayed with our stuff.” says Daisy.
“Quicker, yes, but not the best idea. We shouldn’t separate like that.”
“So, you going into an unknown place alone is the preferred alternative? You, the one person who knows where we’re going, and knows the people there.”
A barrage of hot air purges from Karo’s nostrils.
“Yeah, sure, you’re annoyed, but I’m not wrong.”
A cutting glance from Karo stops any follow up remarks from Daisy.
“Damnit.” he says through his teeth.
“What?” Norman inquires.
“She’s not wrong.”
“Come again big guy?” she replies, with a half grin.
“There’s no good way to go about this, but we shouldn’t separate at all. The houses area too far apart. If I get pinned down, yelling for help is dangerous. We can’t all three go and leave Patrick by himself.”
“So, what then?”
“We all need to go, don’t see any other valid option, other than not going at all.”
“We could always just do that, not go at all.”
“We could, but Norman was right about the supplies. We’ve got scraps, anything would be helpful, never know what situations will present themselves the rest of the way.”
A long silence falls over them. Karo intently studies the two houses on the same side of the road, the third being on the opposite. The closest is about thirty feet away, the one after on the same side another twenty, and the opposite house somewhere in between them. Daisy brushes her hair out of her face, moving her gaze to Karo.
“What’s the plan then?”
“I don’t want to leave our stuff laying around, in case we have to make a break for it.”
“Agreed.”
“We’ll all go together, slowly. We’ll take the two on the same side first, the opposite one last, one at a time, only moving to the next house if the current one doesn’t provide anything. We’re not going to be greedy. Too much at stake for that, and we don’t have time to waste.”
A timid, and cautious approach to the first house ensues. As they get closer to the sizeable house, they can see that the two bottom windows on the side of the two story home are broken. Karo moves around to the front to further inspect. The front door is bowed out, and crooked, but it looks to be jammed in place. Could be from the weather, or from something he doesn’t really want to consider, but can’t afford not to.
The back door has been removed, and lays on the ground. The hinges are severely rusted and broken. He can’t discern if they were broken from inside or outside, or if the door was forcibly removed. The other side of the house has three bottom windows, all broken, and two top windows, also broken.
The back door leads into the kitchen. The floor is water logged and slippery. It snowed here, and the door has certainly been removed for some time. They hastily, though quietly as possible, search the kitchen. The cabinets are all closed, which Karo finds odd. They’re mostly barren, save for some undiscernible small food boxes and spoiled cans.
The cabinets under the sink provide a few molded bottles and containers. The smell emanating from under the sink is putrid, bringing Karo to tears. Beyond the kitchen is a hallway that looks to lead into a living room. There are four doors in the hallway.
Karo tenderly pushes the first door open to reveal a bathroom, a dirty and ravaged one. The shower curtain is on the floor, torn up. The mirror is cracked all over, the toilet is broken, and a the tub is covered with dry, dark brown stains. Could be blood, could be rust, he decides to leave the room alone.
The next door leads to what appears to have been an office room. A large desk sits along side the right wall, a computer monitor is on the top of the desk, the computer itself is underneath it. There are papers all over the floor, small holes in the walls from where various things were hung, a broken dry erase board laying face down, several shelving units and filing cabinets, and another door that presumably leads to a storage closet on the far side. Karo turns to Daisy, whispering to her.
“We should give the house a once over before searching anything else.”
“Can’t we just search as we go, that way we can leave as soon as possible?”
“We can, but that’s not the smartest way to do it.”
“But it is the quickest, and it’s already mid-day.”
Karo pauses for a long moment, considering their options. She’s right, the day is getting later, and they’re on a time crunch, but safety is the most crucial aspect.
“We can’t afford the risk.” he says.
“Alright, your call.” she replies, with a nod.
“Do you need help?”
The unknown voice sends terror rushing through Karo. His face flushes white, his expression drops. He and Daisy both see the dread forming on each other. Karo whips around to see the silhouette of a figure standing several feet inside the room the hallway leads into.
He turns his attention back to the group, flinging the door the rest of the way open.
“Inside, now!” he frantically says.
Daisy, Norman, and Patrick rush into the room. As Karo follows in after them he peers down the hall to see the figure bolting at them. He slams the door shut, and throws his back against it. The thud of stomping feet precedes a viscous banging on the door. Above them a loud crash is heard, followed by the creaking of the ceiling from hurried footsteps leaving the room. A rumble, a downward tumbling, then a loud impact against a wall on the bottom level of the house.
“Did something just fall down the fucking stairs?!” Daisy asks, her pitch high, her words rushed.
More stomping down the hall, increased pressure on
the door, the slamming of more than two hands. Karo motions at the desk with his head.
“Pull the desk over! Pull it over!” he says, keeping his voice low.
Norman and Daisy pull the desk across the room, push it flush against the wall the door is on, and then shove it in front of the door. Karo quickly moves from the door and helps shove the desk up against the adjacent wall, covering all of the entry way.
The pounding cuts in half, and a voice carries over the barrage.
“I know you’re in there. Do you need help?”
Karo rips his backpack off, pulling the map out. He puts a finger to his mouth, then hands the map to Norman. Karo glances to the glassless window on the far side of the room, then back to Norman.
“Can you read a map?”
“Well enough, why?”
“This is where you’re going.” -he points to the map- “There is a huge billboard for Oasis on the highway, U.S. Route 19, multiple advertisements for it that lead to it. Follow the highway to Casselberry, the exit is Maple Drive, that leads right through the center of the city. Not far into the city, two or three miles, you’ll find Gail Parkway. It leads directly to Oasis, you can’t miss it. It’s possible they’ve expanded their boundaries so you may come across it sooner.”
“You want me to just leave you here?”
“You and Patrick go, Daisy and I will stay to deal with the infected. They’re Adapted, at least one of them is, we can’t risk being followed. We have to kill them. You two make a break for it, we’ll catch up to find you. Find somewhere safe and wait for us, but don’t wait too long. Either we make it to you or we don’t, that doesn’t matter.”
“We can’t just leave you two here!”
"The blood is all that matters."
"Karo-"
"You understand everything I told you?"
"Karo we-"
"Do you?!"
"Yes." Norman replies, defeated and worn out.
"Repeat it."
"Route 19 to Casselberry, Maple Drive exit, Gail Parkway to Oasis."
Karo looks to Daisy, her brow furrowed, her eyes drooped, his pale face a mirror of hers.
“Fuck!” -her eyes well, her head shakes- “The first fucking house we go in!”
“Are you with me?”
“Yeah, I am.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“Is it fresh enough?”
Zee’s head tilts, her hand covers part of her face, blocking the sun from her eyes. KP continues to inspect the deceased Adapted, prodding it with a knife, then running her hand across it’s torso. Rosaline remains in a firm stance, several feet behind the two, her gaze intently fixed on KP, as it has been for the duration of this trip. KP looks up from the infected, pointing to the top of the worn building with her knife.
“This old barn has provided a little bit of shelter from the sun, albeit not much, but it might’ve been just enough.
“Is this body the only option?”
KP rises from her knees, bobbing her head.
“Yeah, definitely. The other two were torn up nicely, and weren’t shaded at all.”
KP peers over her shoulder at Rosaline.
“You did this? All of them?”
“All except the one shot in the head back there.”
“This is impressive, a bit extensive and rushed, but still, impressive.”
“Didn’t have much time for planning. They surprised us, and people were in danger.”
KP pivots on her heel, fully facing the young warrior.
“Are you usually this vicious with them?”
“If I need to be.”
“Why?”
Rosaline squints, her face scrunches.
“Why? They’re monsters, killers, if I don’t do it to them, they’ll do it to someone I care about, or to me.”
“It’s interesting that you said people I care about, before you said yourself.”
“What’s so interesting about that?”
“It shows you’re selfless. We could use more of that in this world.”
Rosaline’s eyebrows raise, her clenched fist loosens. She hadn’t even realized she’d clenched it.
“You call them monsters, which to be fair, I agree with, but also killers. Are you not a killer yourself?”
“I am, but” -her gaze wanders, the question momentarily stumping her- “I don’t feel bad about that, not about killing them. Maybe I should, they were human once. I do feel sorry for the people I’ve killed, even if they had it coming.”
“How do you judge that?”
“Judge what?”
“Whether they had it coming or not?”
“If they hurt someone, or killed someone, a person, a person who hasn’t done anything, then, well, they’ve given up their own right to life.”
“I’m not sure that I’m that far along, but in general I agree.”
“Is there a reason for these questions?”
“Just” -her lips curl up- “assessing.”
“It's only getting darker, can we get on with this, or are you stalling for a reason?”
“Oh, I’m not stalling. You can assess as well, I don’t mind, you should do it, actually.” KP says, as she turns back to the infected body.
“Believe me, I will. We will.”
KP lifts the body, holding it propped on it’s side, smirking to herself.
“I don’t doubt that.”
She studies the composition of the infected, deciding the best possible area to find the freshest tissue within it. After a long moment she cuts a piece of flesh off from the back of its calf, a square piece, thick and putrid, the underside still holding a hint of gloss. Zee’s face contorts, a shallow sound of disgust escaping her.
“What’s the plan?”
“Well, I’m going to eat this, and then we’ll wait. We can stay here, so you don’t have to worry about me becoming infected and attacking your friends.”
“But you’re immune, so you wont get infected at all, right?”
“Correct, but you don’t really believe that yet, so I’ll put your mind at ease as much as I can.”
KP moves away from the body, closer to the barn, and leans against it. She detaches the canteen from her belt.
“I’ll even stay right here, on the ground, up against the barn.”
KP holds the bit of flesh up, the rotting meat doing nothing to hide how revolting its ingesting will be. She unscrews the cap on her canteen, then exhales sharply.
“This is, by far, the worst part about being a Guide.”
Without another word she shoves the repulsive chunk of tissue into her mouth, chewing quickly, and just enough to make swallowing possible. She washes it down with an abundance of water, emptying half of the full canteen, the bottle that The Family graciously allowed her to refill at the farm.
“Want to inspect?” KP asks, looking to Rosaline.
Rosaline and Zee approach the seated woman. She holds her mouth open showing that she did swallow the diseased meat.
“You didn’t even gag.” Zee states, not able to hide her disgust.
“I’ve done this many times before.”
“This doesn’t make you sick at all?”
“If I eat too much, or mix too much blood at a time, or even separate occasions too close together, then yes, it can make me sick. It’s not like the disease though, it’s vomiting and shitting. Very, very unpleasant vomiting and shitting.”
“Sounds like a good time.” Rosaline says.
“Yeah, too much fun for sure.” KP replies, with a snort.
The ventured three settle in to wait out the duration it would take the disease to overrun a person. The first thirty minutes pass at a slog, until Zee engages in small talk with KP, which after another thirty minutes leads into a multitude of questions about Oasis. KP explains the history of the city, going into more detail about how the founders reacted directly following the outbreak. She explains their governing system as best as she can, though Zee and Rosaline find many of thei
r rules and operations confusing. She talks of the Guides, their schools, their hospitals, their accountability system, and the jobs and tasks the various citizens undertake.
“There’s a lot more to it, this is all fairly basic, and honestly it’s better if you see it, and if people more knowledgeable about specifics explain it to you.”
Zee’s optimism holds steadfast as the glow from the moon dimly lights the Earth. Her want for this to be true, her need for life to be more, for a more certain future, overtakes her doubt. Cynicism is not in her, and though she dreams of waves on the beach carrying laughter, of comforting walks at night, of lovers in fields gazing at stars, of embraces under waterfalls, of paramours swept up in longing, of the greatest desire to be passion, and not the absence of fear, she must force herself to be realistic, to accept the all but certain inevitable truth, that this woman will turn before they leave this place.
Every second that passes Rosaline’s heart pounds faster, her stomach fills and aches, her muscles tense, her bones throb, her hand ticks, her foot bounces. A sense of unwanted worry wells, then gives way to disbelief, and then hope. A dangerous, dangerous hope.
Another hour passes, then two, then three, and KP remains her informative, outgoing self. She doesn’t vomit, she doesn’t shit, she doesn’t shake, her body does not become feverish, her pupils do not change, she doesn’t convulse, she doesn’t lose consciousness, her humanity does not falter, and the light in her eyes does not fade. She is immune.
◆◆◆
The flames crackle, rising then withering, then rising again. The Family sit in their circle around the fire pit, KP by herself on the porch. Rosaline, Zee, and KP returned only minutes earlier. Mikey fidgets, not fully grasping the conversation at hand. Hawaii, Rad, Sweetie, and Outlaw share similar somber and bewildered expressions. Rosaline’s face is close to the fire, leaned in to speak softly.
“She ate a chunk of infected flesh from an Adapted. We watched her cut it out and eat it, and-and nothing happened. She never got sick, she never even showed one sign of anything wrong. She just-just stayed the same. It was the same Adapted that I killed. I’m positive of it.”
A World Fallen Page 22
