When I didn’t respond to him, he stomped through the doorway. A gust of wind rushed through, leaving me covered in goosebumps and shivering. Instead of walking into the house I turned on my heel and marched back to the car. I squatted down on the far side of it. I pulled my hood over my head and punched the ground repeatedly. I didn’t stop until the skin on my knuckles had split open. I dropped backwards onto my butt with a sob. I stared out beyond the fence, at the trees that surrounded us. For at least twenty feet there was nothing but stumps that littered the ground around the perimeter of the fence. Someone, probably Rick, chopped them down. Firewood most likely or just to keep it clear.
A few raindrops hit my hood before the downpour began. I didn’t move. Within minutes I was soaked to the bone, but I just didn’t care. So much had happened that I still wasn’t sure how to process it all. I get why Rick was upset but he doesn’t understand. I have mom, Emmie, Jack and Lily to think about. I can’t come back empty handed without at least trying. He’ll murder them. I couldn’t. I can’t, I can’t handle that. I can’t lose them. They’re all I have left. The only family that I care about.
My vision started going blurry, my eyes started burning. Before I could even try to stop myself, I was bawling my eyes out. The tears flowed and mixed with the rain. I sobbed and let all the raw emotion pour out of me. Not caring how loud I was, not caring how my throat burned. The sobs were only interrupted by my lungs, desperate for air. It poured out of me, leaving just a shell behind it. I didn’t want to think about how terrible everything was, how little chance there was of actually succeeding.
“Alice?”
I jerked my head up. It was Dean. I didn’t hear him over my crying. My cheeks flushed. “You shouldn’t be out here.”
He shook his head, “No I shouldn’t. But you didn’t come in.” He was using the blazer to keep himself standing. He stared at me with sympathy in his eyes.
I slapped the ground angrily, splashing him and myself. “Rick’s right you know. This… being out here is suicide…” I trailed off, wiping my face.
“Just come inside. You’ll freeze out here.”
It was either the sympathy in his voice or it was the soothing tone he was trying use, but it just flipped a switch.
“Why should I? You and Richard, you two are out here because a mad man told you to. We’re not going to find anything and my family is going to die because there’s nothing but ghosts out here!”
He dropped his head, “If you come in, we’ll show you the evidence we have.”
His words cut through the whirling in my head. I looked up at him, his shoulders were slouched and he had wrapped his arm around his abdomen. There were lines across his face that weren’t there just days ago. Just looking at him made me swallow my anger. I climbed to my feet. “You need to get inside.”
He smirked. “Only if you promise to actually come in and stay.”
I groaned softly. “Fine.”
Dean walked slowly but steadily back to the house. I followed him closely just in case he fell. I opened the door for him and held it for him while he walked through it. I followed him through it, I made sure the door was shut and locked before looking around me. My jaw nearly dropped in surprise.
It was clean in here. It looked like a living room that I had stepped into. It was square with light green walls, there were squares on the walls of lighter green where pictures or decorations had been hung. The carpet was short and a grey color, it probably used to be white. Dirt was tracked in over the floor, with pieces of wood led from the door to the fireplace that was situated in the center of the wall that was to my left. It was bricked in with bricks jutting out so if coals or embers escaped the grating, they would land on the bricks instead of the carpet. In a half circle around the fireplace where two couches and a recliner. The recliner was in the middle, directly in front of the fireplace. It was made of brown leather material; the armrests showed its age. The leather was peeling back, revealing black material underneath. The two couches were mismatched. The couch closest to me was dark blue with fine white lines running through the material. In the back of the couch there were large slashes showing the wooden skeleton underneath. The other couch was grey with blue, black and red stripes running through it with various thicknesses. Even from here the brown stains on the cushions were visible.
Directly across from the front door was a doorway that led into the kitchen. From here I could see the refrigerator and counters situated on a linoleum floor.
The same wall that the door was on were the windows, they were boarded up from the outside. Here on the inside though instead of boards it was plywood covering the window from top to bottom. The only source of light was coming from the fireplace. I stepped further into the room and another door materialized. It was catty corner to the door that led into the kitchen. I could only presume that it led into the rest of the house.
Rick stepped into the room from the kitchen. “Door locked? You see that metal bar, flip it down across the door. And shoes off.” He disappeared back into the kitchen.
I grabbed the metal bar and flipped it down. It sat across the middle of the door. I knelt down to unlace my boots. After unlacing them I stood and pulled them off of my feet. Outside the blazer roared to life. It revved its engine and after a moment the engine shut off. I peeled my soaking jacket off of me and hung it on a hook to dry.
Dean had already kicked his shoes off and he was sitting on the dark blue couch. I sat down next to him and drank in the heat of the fire. My pants felt like a second layer of skin. The water was making them cling to my legs. I needed to change but the fire felt so good. It was warming me to the bone.
When Rick stomped into the room I didn’t even look up. The fire was mesmerizing, it was beautiful. When my bag hit me in the shoulder I yelped in pain and shot to my feet. I kicked my bag out of my way and stomped to lean against the wall. Even from here I could see him grit his teeth.
“Just let me see that shoulder.” He growled.
Immediately I dropped my other hand from where I’d been holding my shoulder. “It’s fine.” I hissed. “I just need to clean it and change the bandage.” I lied. There was no bandage and I really haven’t cleaned it. So that’s not a lie that I need to clean it.
“In the bathroom I have a camping shower set up. I’ll show you as long as you don’t mind cold water.” Before I could move to get it, Rick picked up my bag and disappeared down the hallway.
I really had no other choice so I followed him. I turned the corner and was faced with a short hallway. To my right there was one door and to my left there were two doors. Rick was opening the nearest one to my left. A lantern was illuminating a white and blue tiled floor. The counter was dark blue, it matched the blue squares on the floor. The counter had plenty of space with the sink in the middle of it. Two brown wooden cabinets sat on either side of the sink. Next to the counter was the toilet and next was a deep bathtub with glass doors in place of a shower curtain. Then across from the sink were more cupboards, presumably holding towels or other supplies. Underneath it there was a bar that could hold towels or whatever.
Rick showed me how to work the camp shower but before he left, he leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.
“What?” I didn’t bother trying to hide my annoyance.
“Just wanted to say if you have a death wish there’s quicker ways than by infections.” He walked out and slammed the door shut behind him.
I twisted the lock with a huff. I peeled my clothes off of me and hung them on the bar to dry. My arms were fine. The cuts were almost nonexistent. I stared at my shoulder in the mirror. It was an ugly shade of red. The scab jutted out from my body. But it was smaller than it was even this morning. I lifted my arm above my head and it hurt but the fact that I could do it made me feel more confident. I shook my arm out and stepped into the shower.
A while later I stepped out of the bathroom, still towel drying my hair. I had a clean pair of cargo pants on, they were my
last clean pair, and a flannel shirt to go with it. I walked into the living room and dropped my bag near the end of the grey couch, which I promptly dropped onto. Rick was putting more wood into the fire. Dean was still sitting on the blue couch and was nodding off. Richard was shuffling through his bag on the other end of the couch.
I dropped my towel onto the arm of the couch and proceeded to try to finger brush my hair. Rick stood up and with a look of utmost disgust ripped my towel off the couch and stalked off into the hallway.
I shrugged. Whatever.
Rick stalked back into the room and lowered himself onto the recliner. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Well? Where’s this ‘evidence’ that you have?”
Richard pushed his bag away from him and turned to fully face Rick. “Nothing is set in stone. We have sufficient evidence to support this venture. The evidence that we have was acquired through the use of drones and scouts that have voluntarily used gone out in one’s and two’s, who have encountered people whom we have strong suspicion of being immune. They-“
Rick interjected. “How do they know that these people are immune?”
Richard pursed his lips. “They witnessed the said people being bit by infected and days later those people were still perfectly healthy.”
Rick leaned back in his chair, a strange look on his face. “That’s it?”
Richard shook his head. “No. They’ve also witnessed people in biohazard suits moving around in different cities. But mostly around the last known hospital that was known to be functioning.”
Rick ran his hand through his beard. “How old is this info?” There was something odd about his voice. His face was blank, purposely blank. It was the same look that dad would get when mom would ask him about work.
I stopped trying to detangle my hair. “You know something.” Rick stood up abruptly. I followed his progress through the room. “Rick. What do you know?”
“How. Old. Is. It.” He asked through clenched teeth.
I turned to look at Richard. His dark eyes gleamed in the firelight. He was evidently thinking along the same lines as I was, because he voiced what I was thinking. “You’ve seen them. You can take us to them!” his voice rose an octave or two.
Rick shook his head very slowly before he left the room. A moment later a door shut.
Richard was staring at the doorway where Rick had disappeared. “He knows and he will take us to them. He has no choice.”
“And what are you going to do, hold a gun to his head.” I snapped.
Richard turned his gleaming eyes onto me. “If I have to then yes.”
I rolled my eyes hard enough that the room blurred. “There’s better ways of convincing people to do what you want.” Dean murmured.
Yeah, like threatening to kill your whole family if you don’t do what you’re told. I pulled my feet up underneath me and slowly leaned to the side to drop my head back against the armrest of the couch. The only sounds that filled the room was the crackling of the fire, the rain on the roof and the sounds of breathing.
Rum jumped up onto the couch and set his head onto my leg and slowly blinked his eyes. Between the warmth of the fire and Rum I was able to slowly relax my body. One by one my muscles unclenched. It didn’t even occur to me to set a watch before I drifted off to sleep.
…
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the silence, the second was how cold it was. I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly to get them to focus. It was no good, the room was too dark to make out anything. I pulled my arm up to rub my eyes but they got caught on a blanket. Compared to the rest of my body my face was freezing. I sat up, pulling the blanket up with me.
I could hear soft breathing, not the like someone was trying to be quiet but of someone sleeping. A furry body was snuggled behind my knees, I could only assume it was Rum since he was there when I fell asleep. I was almost warm under my blanket but the cold was attempting to penetrate through it. The idea of abandoning my small nest was almost horrifying. It was no good, I was never going to get properly warm. I threw my blanket off of me. Immediately I was covered in goosebumps, I started shaking from the cold. Above my head the rain was hitting the roof with such ferocity that if anyone ventured out, they’d be soaked in minutes. The wind howled around the house. Crossing my arms across my chest I tip-toed over to the fireplace. I felt around for the poker, I know Rick had left it here. Somewhere. My hands flew around the bricks, not daring to venture too far forward. My left hand landed on a cold piece of metal. I picked it up and shoved it into the fire place. Embers glowed dully. I don’t have to start from scratch at least.
I slowly stacked kindling over the embers with a log strategically placed over it. In between the spaces I pushed crumpled pieces of paper. I held a long, twisted piece of paper against one of the embers and waited for it to light. Softly I blew air onto it. It glowed brighter. I kept blowing. After a moment it ignited. I pressed the small flame to the other pieces of paper. They ignited, slowly the fire grew. As it grew, I leaned closer, soaking up any heat that it was giving off. The kindling caught, within minutes the fire was hot enough to start eating the log. I stacked another piece onto it before I climbed onto the couch to wrap myself back in the blanket. The fire was mesmerizing to watch. Fire consumes everything. There’s nothing that fire won’t at least touch, nothing is safe. With those thoughts I fell back into a dreamless sleep.
…
Rick didn’t have much stockpiled in his kitchen, but what he did have all three of us browsed through. I ended up with a can of cream of chicken soup with rice and vegetables. The only heat source was the fireplace, so carefully I made a hole in the top of the can for ventilation and very awkwardly I held the can of soup out the fire with tongs. Dean was sitting on the couch to my left, wrapped in a maroon blanket. He was eating tuna fish, I think. Richard was waiting for his turn with the tongs to heat his can of soup. None of us knew where Rick was. The last I saw of him was earlier this morning when he woke me up by throwing more wood on the fire this morning. I could only assume he was either doing something or he was avoiding us. The avoiding us seemed more likely.
I pulled my soup off of the fire, carefully setting it on the outward bricks to cool. I passed the tongs to Richard, who eagerly scooted forward to heat his soup. My soup was too hot to grab with just my hands. I used my blanket to wrap around it and I retreated to the couch. I swirled the soup around with a spoon before I tentatively took a bite. It was hot and everything in it was mush but it wasn’t bad. Compared to some of the things I’ve had to eat, this wasn’t bad at all. I shoved more into my mouth. As soon as I swallowed it, I was shoveling more into it. Overall it was just thick soup, thick delicious soup. I scrapped the can trying to get every last drop out. If I could fit my head in the can, I would’ve licked it clean.
At that point Rick came stomping through the front door. He slammed the door shut, slamming the dead bolt across the door. He shook his coat off. “Good news. The temperature stopped dropping.” He dropped himself into his recliner. He stretched his arms above his head, arching his back.
Richard broke the silence. I shared a glance with Dean, this was not going to go well. “You obviously know something that you’re not sharing with us. But what you don’t understand is what’s at stake here. We need to find these people. We need to find them and find out how they’re surviving. Even if you’re not willing to take us, then the least you can possibly do is point us in the right direction and tell us where to go.”
One side of Rick’s mouth twitched. “How old is your information?”
“Does that even matter?” Richard sneered.
Rick cocked his head to stare at Richard with both eyes. “How. Old. Is. Your. Information.” He lowered his voice till it was nothing but a growl. At the sound of it the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
After a moment, “I’m not authorized.” Richard stated. He sat back on the couch, crossing his arms across his chest.
“I’m not
authorized.” Mimicked Rick. “Then why’d you even bring it up?”
“Because at least making a decent effort of locating them is the only way my family stays alive.” I spat out. I flexed my hands before setting them on my legs. “I don’t give a damn hold old their information is, but what I do give a damn about is what you’re hiding. You know exactly what was in those med kits. The same med kits that basically brought Dean back from death’s door. And you know what Richard is talking about.”
Rick pursed his lips, before jumping out of his chair. “What can I say, you all convinced me.” He clapped his hands together with a nauseating grin. It showed every single one of his teeth. “Let’s just hop in my blazer and go! What do you say? Let’s go and chase ghosts!” he looked at each one of us in turn, his grin only widening at our silence.
I couldn’t take it. I just couldn’t, not anymore. I jumped to my feet and advanced towards him slowly, balancing on the balls of my feet. “Did you not hear what I said?” My jaw was clenched hard enough that is was almost impossible for me to spit the words out. “My family’s lives are on the line. We come back empty handed, with nothing, they die.”
He shrugged. “Not my problem.”
I was standing close enough to him now that I could smell his sweat. Body odor was wafting off of him. He didn’t even smell this bad yesterday in the confines of the car. But that wasn’t something to dwell on.
In one fluid motion, I pulled my arm back while clenching my fist. I shoved it forward and hit him directly in the jaw. Rick propelled himself backwards before tripping over his chair. He landed flat on his back with an oof. Before he could recover, I launched myself to land on top of him. I curled my fingers though his shirt to pull his face up to mine. “It is your problem now. Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you by pounding your head into the ground.”
He stared defiantly at me before jerking his head forward, ramming it into mine. I lost my grip on his shirt while trying to not fall backwards. I deflected one of his fists aimed at my head. I missed the other one; it hit me in the ribs. I doubled over in reaction. A third punch hit me in the side of my head knocking me off of him. I tried to scramble to my feet but a foot came from nowhere. I rolled to avoid it. He aimed anther kick at me but I was prepared. I caught it and jerked, pulling him to the ground. He grabbed the couch instead. I climbed to my feet and lunged for him. I hit him in the stomach. The face. Under my fist something crackled. I pulled it away, a stream of blood was pouring from his nose.
Dead Paper Birds Page 19
