A World Fallen

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A World Fallen Page 25

by Carter, Nicholas Lawrence


  “Yeah, hot and tired, ya know?”

  “I feel you.”

  The almost adult fixes his cap back atop his head, his eyes squint as he regards Rad.

  “What do you think it’s really like there? At Oasis?

  “Shit, I don’t know.”

  “You think it’s actually like she says?”

  “I hope so.”

  “A real city with people, jobs, food, girls.”

  Rad’s lips curve up.

  “That last one is important.”

  A snort, then a chuckle, flow from the Puerto Rican teen.

  “Hell yeah it is!”

  Outlaw’s lips purse, then squeeze to the side.

  “Did you ever, ya know, do it? Like back in the community?”

  “Nah man, I mean, really, just your sister, Zee, and those two cousins, Rachel and Monica, were the only girls close to our age, and they weren’t havin’ it.” he replies, scratching his neck.

  “Did you try though?”

  “Kinda? I would talk to Rach, but she was pretty weird.”

  “Both those girls were weird.”

  “True, they had a messed up life though.”

  The young man’s head bobs, he exhales sharply.

  “What about you man? You ever try?” Rad asks.

  “No, Sweetie never really let me hang out with anyone by myself, except for you. She didn’t trust no one, even the people we grew up with.”

  “She’s come a long way. She used to be so fuckin' mean.”

  “Shit, she’s still mean! She’s just happy now, most times.”

  A bellow of laughter unexpectedly leaps from the tall man, he slaps his hand on Outlaw’s shoulder.

  “That’s the truest shit you ever said!”

  The nearly adult teen chuckles with his friend.

  “How come we’ve never talked about this before? We used to talk about everything, but we never talked about this.”

  “I don’t know, it’s like, uncomfortable, I guess?” Outlaw replies, with a dipped brow.

  “Yeah” -his shoulders shrug- ”I guess. It’s not right now though.”

  “Nah, but we’ve been through a lot more since then.”

  “You right about that.”

  The group in front of them comes to a stop and forms a crude circle. The conversing males pick up their stride to join the others. As they close in, hushed words from KP become clearer.

  “...right up there, only a few miles, probably less.”

  “What’s going on?” Rad asks, his eyelids sagging.

  “There’s a small stream that converges a few miles away, it’s a slight detour to get there from here, but the quicker we get to it the better. We can follow it for about two days before we’ll have to break off.”

  “Okay, so what are we talkin’ about then? We go to the water, right?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Why not?” Outlaw inquires.

  “Because, she says the infected populate near flowing water. People stay near it, so the infected do that now too.” Zee interjects.

  “It’s not certain that we’ll encounter any diseased, but it’s more likely if we stay close to running water for long periods.” KP adds.

  She scratches her arm, looking over the wondering eyes before her.

  “We’ll have to travel hours away from the water each night to make camp, but we’ll have constant water for two days. The stream leads us around some towns, so we can avoid them, and it’s a pretty straight shot making our overall trip shorter. Even with the added times of setting up camp.”

  Rosaline brushes her hair out of her face. Her hand continues to caress Mikey’s shoulder.

  “Getting to Oasis is our goal, and getting there as quick as possible is definitely best, but I don’t want to put anyone in more danger if they’re uncomfortable with it.” she says.

  Hawaii bites his lip, and shares a glance with Zee.

  “We’re not experienced with traveling out here. You two are, so what’s the better option?”

  “There aren’t really better options, not anymore. Every decision comes with risks, we just have to manage those risks with clear minds and quick reactions. If I were alone, I’d be going to the river. I’d rather have a known source of water for a couple days, than not have one.”

  “If it were just me and Mikey, I’d take us to the water too. You go long stretches out here without ever seeing any. I hate adding to the possibility of running into diseased, but we can’t live without water. It was the only instance when we would actively put ourselves in more danger.”

  “You put yourself in plenty of danger when you approached us.” Hawaii replies, with a tilted head.

  “I was desperate and worried for Mikey. I followed Sweetie, Rad, and Outlaw for long enough to know they weren’t bad people. I could tell that by how they talked to each other. But, believe me, I was confidant that I could’ve killed you all that night, and you wouldn’t have been able to stop me.”

  “Damn nena! That’s comforting!” Sweetie exclaims, hugging her lover tight.

  “Hey! I love you, now, but I didn’t know any of you then. I had to accept that there was the possibility that I would have to do something I didn’t want to do.”

  “Nah, baby, I get it. You have to protect Mikey, but now we all protect each other.”

  The short warrior woman’s eyes twinkle, her lip curls under her teeth, she leans in and kisses her companion.

  “Yeah we do.”

  “Well that’s gross.” says Outlaw, “Are we going to the river or not?”

  The unruly Latina smacks her brother’s arm, grinning at him. A long moment of silence falls upon them. KP’s gaze scans over each of them, studying their expressions.

  “We go to the river. Let’s move, we shouldn’t waste anymore time.”

  An odd reinvigoration rushes among them, and time is not wasted. They resume their trek, getting to the river in under two hours. With the sun high over head, daylight still leaving many hours before having to venture away to set up camp, the group walks along the riverbed. They stop for roughly twenty minutes to clean and refill their canteens, wash their faces and arms, and take a general breather.

  The group remains close to the river, walking nearly on its bed, until three hours before dusk is to set in. KP leads them away from the river, moving in a hastened stride for two hours with no letting up. They make camp on the outskirts of a small field, rotating watching shifts for the night.

  When morning comes, and KP awakes, she goes to awake Rosaline, and is impressed to find her already conscious. After waking Sweetie and Mikey, Rosaline joins KP in getting the others up. Fifteen minutes are allotted for repacking, then their journey resumes.

  They make it back to the river swiftly, after which KP and Rosaline are able to gather the materials needed to fasten together three crude fishing poles. The Guide continues to be impressed at nearly every turn by how resourceful this young warrior is, and with how quickly she finishes tasks.

  She has been almost equally as impressed with Mikey. In all her years as a Guide she’s never met such a well mannered and attentive child. She’s come across many, many kids older than Mikey that behaved far worse.

  KP, Rosaline, and the ever capable Rad fish for a couple hours, wading deep out into the river. They are able to catch four fish among them. Just one fish is of substantial size, the other three barely enough for one meal, and only for one person.

  KP and Rosaline suggest that they will eat the least, but that is dismissed. The group agrees that the two of them need to be nourished since they're the most experienced. The two women oppose, but realize an argument wouldn’t be beneficial.

  KP, Rosaline, and Mikey are given the three small fish, and the rest split up the biggest one. Rosaline still sneaks part of her fish to Sweetie, who refuses, but after Rosaline threatens to throw it back into the water, the Latina relents. She secretly gives half to her brother then eats the rest.

  With
breakfast finished the travel continues. Hours pass by, filled with hushed conversations, until brush too thick to pass through alters their course. They move away from the river, taking a route around the brush, then back to the river on the other side.

  The eight of them remain alert and cautious on their voyage, but that does not prevent the awaiting ambush. They couldn’t have known that death was hiding inside the thick brush. It appeared too dense to pass through, and KP is well aware of the dangers presented by such drastically limited visibility in areas like that one. In her experience it’s always better to go around, rather than through.

  Three Adapted appear from the brush. The monsters do not speak, or wait, they simply attack the moment the group passes by their lurking spot, on their way back to the river bank. KP is tackled immediately, her shirt ripped, her face clawed, and her arm bitten. The Adapted is large, and taller than Rad. It pins her to the wet dirt, thrashing down upon her in a furious rage.

  The other two separate the rest of the group and advance upon them. The survivors retreat, attempting to create space. Rosaline reacts with vigor and haste, equipping her goggles and hammer, and dropping her backpack off her, before she is reached by one of the murderous trio. An arm stretches out her to, only to be met with the cold steel of the hammer. A swift strike that fractures the morose appendage.

  Not allowing time for deliberation, Rad plows through one of the oncoming beasts. He ignores its tumble, clicks the safety off on his rifle, and aims at the monster relentlessly swinging down upon KP. Rad steadies himself, looking for an opportunity to take a clear headshot, but before he can pull the trigger a loud crack jolts the air. The Adapted jerks, its head flings up, then it slumps down on top of KP--the monster becoming a motionless mass of tainted flesh.

  The tall rifle toting man lowers his weapon, his brow raised in disbelief. Despite being pinned to the ground, despite heavy hands clubbing her face, and despite the disorienting and sudden nature of the attack, KP was able to withdraw the handgun from her belt, force her arm from under the lumbering leg holding it down, and shoot the wildly thrashing beast dead center in the head. Using only one of their precious bullets.

  Sweetie shields Mikey, keeping him behind her, and quickly moves them away. Hawaii gives his handgun to Zee, unsheathes his machete, ushers Sweetie and Mikey to Zee, then runs for Outlaw. The teen is caught in a mad struggle to unloose his backpack--a pack that the previously bowled over Adapted has a firm hold on and is using to pull the frantic teen into its vile atmosphere.

  Rosaline’s hammer cracks loudly against the arm of the beast. The creature howls, then reaches out again, but this prey is quicker than it could have known. The small woman follows up her initial attack with one fluid motion of removing her hunting knife from its sheath, lunging forward, and plunging it under the jaw of the monster. It falls limp less than ten seconds after its attention was turned on her.

  A loud shriek, a ghastly screech of pain and fear, echoes over the rushing water. A machete slashes at a downward angle, hastily and nervously. The weapon digs into bone on the shoulder, clipping off it, and sinking into neck. The Adapted falls to the side, but is not finished. It scrambles to its feet. Another scream of pain and horror, the frightened words “It bit me! It bit me!” boom off the dirt, off the water, to the sun, to the sky, and ricochet back to the ears of frazzled survivors.

  The young, optimistic, Puerto Rican teen writhes on the dirt, his hand clutched against his neck, pressing firmly, but not able to stop the blood gushing from him. Loud cracks and whizzes fill the air. The tall brutish man screams, his voice breaking and gurgling, his finger repeatedly squeezing down on the trigger of the rifle. The Adapted shakes and convulses, the bullets tearing through its body. Its attempt at standing again is cut short by a mad hailstorm of screaming lead.

  An anguished and furious Rad stands above the bipedal figure of death, the muzzle of the rifle pressing against its head, pulling the trigger until only clicks can be heard. The stomping of sneakers, another scream, a yelp of worry and horror. The disbelieving sister falls to her knees. Her arms cradle her brother, her wet eyes race over him. His hand finds her cheek, his gaze meets hers, his lip quivers, and his chest convulses.

  "I don't wanna die!"

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Karo takes Daisy’s hand, guiding her through the window. Her feet plop to the grass, and he hands her the nearly empty bottle of rubbing alcohol.

  “Pour this over the crowbar. We don’t have time to search for cloth to clean them, this will have to do for now. Just keep it hanging out of your pack. We’ll wash them in the first water we find.”

  “Should we do that?”

  “What?”

  “Clean the infected blood off in some random creek or lake? What about the people who may use that source of water later?”

  “You think we’ll be the first to do it?”

  She looks upon the hardened man from below lowered eyelids, this thought having never come to her before.

  “People have been cleaning weapons and all sorts of items in open water sources for years. They have to have been. There must be something in water, or maybe the virus doesn’t survive long in blood out of the body or in open air. Otherwise everyone would be infected by now.”

  “That’s-that’s a good point, actually. There has to be some reason most of our sources of water aren’t tainted. It’s a wonder they all aren’t by now.”

  The ravaged man’s head bobs, but he doesn’t reply.

  “They’re, what, two, three hours ahead of us?”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “That’s not long, can’t be too far in front.”

  “If they haven’t hit any snags, two to three hours of continuous travel is enough to put a good distance between us and them. It’s unlikely we’ll reach them in less than two days.”

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  “It also depends on how quickly they’re traveling. If they ran for the better part of those hours then they’re even further ahead. Let’s hope they found shelter, obvious shelter.”

  “Norman’s smart, they’re bunked up somewhere waiting for us.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “He wouldn’t leave me behind. You? Maybe, but not me.”

  Her sly grin returns, as does the rugged man’s grimace. Without another word he pivots on his heel and begins the trek. Daisy scoffs, and quietly laughs to herself, then follows the brooding fighter. She keeps her thoughts to herself for the first hour of their search, giving Karo the opportunity to cool off and focus on the task at hand.

  Somewhere after the first twenty minutes or so of searching a question pops into Daisy’s mind. It tumbles over in her, burning to get out. She ponders the possible answers, not finding any that qualify as satisfactory. After another forty minutes she can’t take the silence any longer.

  “Hey, I have a question for you.”

  Deep in concentration, his eyes scanning over trees, shrubs, the dirt, and occasionally up to the sky, Karo grunts, but does not offer a real response.

  “Okay, I’m going to take that as ‘Sure Daisy, what’s the goss?’ I love answering your questions.”

  His pace slows, his head swivels, he peers over his shoulder at her.

  “Goss?”

  “Goss, gossip. It’s something we used to say before the outbreak. Basically, it’s like saying ‘What’s up?’ or ‘What’s going on?’ that general sentiment.”

  “You think it was quicker having to explain that? Rather than just leaving it out entirely?”

  “I’m brushing past that.”

  He grunts again, returning his attention to the landscape in front of him.

  “So, why didn’t you shoot those infected back there? We were losing that fight, we got lucky.”

  “Honestly?” he asks, peering over his shoulder once more.

  “Well, yeah, honestly.”

  “That thing headbutted me, I wasn’t thinking right.”

&
nbsp; “And here I was thinking you didn’t want to create any extra noise.”

  “I try to avoid that at all cost, but once that thing downed me shooting it would’ve been the safest course of action.”

  “So, basically, you were just loopy and we almost died.”

  He exhales loudly, intentionally, letting his annoyance be known.

  “In the future, let’s try not to get caught off guard again. Say, for instance, let’s check all rooms before we, hey, what’s that?”

  Daisy quickens her steps, hurrying over to a large oak tree. Numerous branches protrude from the tree, barren of leaves, wet, and sagging. Hanging around one of the branches, at just about her eye level, is a faded blue piece of cloth. She tugs on the cloth, pulling it off the branch.

  “This could be from one of Norman's shirts, certainly looks familiar.”

  “It’s not even, but it’s clearly been cut with scissors, folded and cut in the middle too.”

  “This has to be from them. He’s leaving us a trail.”

  “Good.”

  “Told you he’s smart.”

  His brow lowers, he regards her with a look of expectance.

  “Can’t believe you doubted me.

  His chest inflates deeply, his eyelids flutter shut.

  “Oh, yeah, I’m irritating. You know it, I know it, you can exasperate, but nothing’s going to change. This is what made me such a good lawyer.”

  “Let’s just hope you’re as attentive and aware as you are talkative.”

  She waves the piece of blue cloth in front of her face, a flag flying as the declaration of her persistence.

  “Found this didn’t I?”

  “Just keep your eyes out for more. It’s likely he left a piece every thirty minutes to an hour. That’s what I would do.”

  He was right. About every forty to fifty minutes they find another piece of cloth. Karo estimates Norman did, in fact, leave them roughly every thirty minutes, but the trail is crude, and the slower pace he and Daisy keep makes finding them take a little longer.

  The duo continue to search for their separated companions, collecting the bits of cloth along the way. Once dusk begins to settle in they keep on until the next piece of cloth is found, then decide to make camp for the night. There’s nowhere of any value around, and Karo doesn’t want to risk losing the trial by venturing off to find safer dwellings for the night.

 

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