“But I’m eighteen and Randy is probably fifty. He won’t try anything,” I reply absentmindedly.
“Jo,” Moe says, stopping and pulling me to a halt beside him. “I’m not getting into it with Randy if he tries anything on you. But for all we know, you could be the last girl on the planet. Age doesn’t matter, so think about that next time you think you’re invincible. You may have a great time with Jonathan and me, but you don’t know what the rest of this group is capable of doing.”
But he’s wrong in so many ways.
I can take care of myself and I have.
I’m not the last girl on Earth. I may be the second to last, but I’m not last as long as Charlie stays alive.
I don’t enjoy it here. I’m only here so Charlie won’t have to be. I do enjoy Jonathan and Moe’s company, but I’ll leave in an instant if I need to do so.
I know I’m not invincible, but I know that nobody else is either.
I am with the militia to find survivors and keep everyone away from Charlie. Nothing else matters—just my baby sister.
*****
Chapter 14
We’re on the move by sunrise the next morning, which is a common occurrence for our group. We take advantage of the sunlight because when it’s dark, it’s no longer safe. We don’t know what’s roaming in the darkness, so it’s best to avoid it.
“Hey Jo, we’re taking the lead today,” Moe shouts from across the camp. We try to keep our camp as condensed as possible, but with thirty-three members, we need enough space for everyone to sleep comfortably.
“I always take the lead,” I scoff. I reach toward the ground and strap my pistol in my waistband. It’s a police issued Glock 22 and one of the most reliable firearms I’ve attained. Most of the people in the group—aside from Moe, of course—have a Smith & Wesson gun, but they didn’t have the opportunity to ransack a police station after the rains. Moe and I have the same gun and agree that it is extremely reliable.
After clearing out the police station lockers, I have enough ammunition for my Glock 22 to fill an entire duffel bag.
I reach to the ground and throw my large backpack over my shoulders. It’s huge, but it holds everything I could possibly need in a sticky situation—a spare set of clothing, plenty of ammunition, two bottles of water, and a few granola bars. I call it my bugout bag and we all have one. We never know when something may happen, so we must be prepared.
I walk toward Moe and Jonathan, who are still gathering their bags. They share a tent with one another, so they take turns carrying their camping equipment. I don’t use a tent, for I don’t have a partner and find it to be a waste of time and effort. If I had a partner, it would be different. “You are wasting my time,” I tell them with a lighthearted tone.
“Chill, Jo. We all have tents to take down, unlike you,” Moe retorts. Jonathan throws his rifle strap over his shoulder and stands straighter. He isn’t talkative, though he does add to our conversations occasionally.
“Tents aren’t necessary. They’re a waste of time, space, and patience. Plus, without them, you can see the sky every night. The stars are a lot brighter without all the city lights polluting the world.” I’ve always loved stars. “There aren’t enough bugs left to pester us and we can hear the rains coming a mile before they reach us, so I have plenty of time to cram into your tent.” The rains still fall occasionally, but the thick black goo is heavier than ordinary water, so it’s louder and easier to predict. When the clouds start turning black around us, we prepare for the rain.
“There are still some bugs out there,” Jonathan says.
“Yeah, like bees and ants, but there aren’t enough to make a difference. It’s not like you wake up with them crawling all over you,” I argue. The rains were erratic. They didn’t kill everything as we had once thought. In fact, when it came to plants, they didn’t seem to impact them at all. And some insects—like bees, ants, cockroaches, or flies—weren’t killed. When it came to people and animals, the rains were poison. Fish and sea creatures—as far as we could tell—didn’t survive either.
“We all know you’re tougher than us, Jo,” Moe says sarcastically.
“Whoa,” someone shouts to our left. “Who are you?” I lay my hand on my firearm and turn toward the ruckus. Guns are drawn and pointed at the person who dared to wander to our camp.
I rush forward, not yet drawing my weapon. Something brings me to the mysterious figure standing in the shadows of the woods. I take a few steps closer and tilt my head, trying to recognize the features of the man—the broad shoulders and long, black hair. But when my eyes land on the confident charcoal eyes, I am thrown into a memory I’d much rather forget.
Dad was dead, Mom was crying crimson tears and coughing up thick, red fluid—blood. Romo and Karter were lying on the floor, unable to move. The sickness had overtaken everyone but Charlie and me, which was devastating. I found myself praying that I would die alongside them, but I never became infected.
It was seven days after the rains had ended and everyone was dying.
Charlie was glued to Karter’s side as he took his last breath and didn’t move even once his heart had stopped beating. And judging by her expression, she wanted hers to stop, as well. Charlie loved him more than anything and he left her. Nothing could have prepared her for the pain she felt. I could almost feel her pain as she kissed Karter’s closed eyelids one last time, but I couldn’t think about that.
Because someone was at the door, and last time I let someone in, they infected and ultimately killed my entire family.
I turned to Charlie. “Stay here. Watch over mom and Romo,” I instructed, leaving no room for argument.
I made my way to the door, careful not to make a sound. There shouldn’t have been anyone at the door, but part of me hoped that it was a doctor—one who could fix my mother and best friend. I needed someone to help. I had no idea what I was doing and nobody would answer 911. Nobody would answer the phones at the hospital in which my mother worked. It was almost as if nobody was left after the Red Death.
I swung the door open and was immediately engrossed by the galaxy eyes on the other side of the door. They were the same eyes I couldn’t get off my mind for weeks. They were the same eyes that I finally put to rest when my father died. And as they stared at me in relief, I wanted nothing more than to rid myself of them forever.
“You did this,” I screeched, not concerned that someone may have heard me. “You didn’t tell me that they would die! My entire family is dead because of you—because you didn’t tell me.” I shoved his chest and he hardly flinched. I lifted my fist to punch him, but something inside me wouldn’t allow me to cause him physical pain.
“I didn’t know the severity of what was happening. It wasn’t intended for such a tragedy to occur. I’m so sorry,” Hayden said remorsefully.
“How—how did you not know? You had to know. Someone had to know this was coming,” I plead. I didn’t know why I was arguing. The damage was already done. Everyone I knew was dead or dying and there was nothing I could do to save them.
“It was not predictable. You need to listen to me, Jo Leigh,” Hayden said. I was listening, but it was unlikely that I would retain whatever he told me. “Jo Leigh,” Hayden said in a firmer tone. He took a step forward and grabbed both sides of my face with his large, soft hands. I looked him in the eyes with my full attention. “You need to stay safe and keep moving. Go west and don’t stop. You cannot die under any circumstances. Do you understand me? You stay alive and travel west. I will find you eventually, but until I do, stay safe.”
And Hayden left without saying another word. It was the last time I saw him.
Until Now.
The shouting of our men brings me back to reality. “Stop,” I shout, just loud enough for them to hear me. Even Randy, our leader, turns his full attention to me. I lift my hand from my Glock and walk toward Hayden slowly. I wasn’t expecting to ever see him again, but I should have known. Hayden hasn’t ever lied to me.
/>
When I’m a few feet from Hayden, I stop. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
My group stands behind me, backing my decision to trust the man. But truthfully, I don’t know if it’s the right decision. “I told you I’d find you,” he says.
I shake my head and look behind him, ensuring that we’re not about to be commandeered. I’m sure the rest of my group is just as cautious. “Do you have anyone else with you?” I ask him. If he’s part of a group, it is important that we know. They could be dangerous.
“I do. Eight men—two injured.” I shake my head and signal for a few of us to flank the woods behind him. “You won’t find them there,” Hayden says as the men pass him. “We’re two miles east—near the city.” Our men turn toward the city and head out. Randy goes with them and leaves me in charge of Hayden.
“Stand down,” I instruct the men on my flank. I realize that Moe is standing to my left and Jonathan at my right. “He’s a friend, guys.” Jonathan nods his head and backs away, still not taking his eye from Hayden. Moe doesn’t move. “Moe, we were friends before the rains. He’s safe. I know what I’m doing.”
Moe leaves me with Hayden, but I notice him keeping his eye on us. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” I admit. I hoped to never see him again. It seems like every time he enters my life, something tragic happens.
“Don’t take our group, Jo Leigh. We’ll only slow you down,” Hayden insists.
“It doesn’t matter. We’re not in a hurry anyways. Plus, eight more people could be helpful. Numbers are everything.” Hayden takes a deep breath and pulls at the tips of his hair.
“You don’t understand,” he tries to explain. “Your group needs to move more quickly. They are catching up and they’ll kill us all if they find us. You and your group need to continue west, and you can’t stop.
I take a step closer. “Who is going to catch us?” I ask. Hayden closes his mouth and his jaw sets in a firm line. “Hayden, who is catching up to us?” I ask, grabbing ahold of his upper arm. If we’re going to be in danger, I need to know the details.
“I cannot explain,” he says tightly. I shake my head and laugh, but the sound that leaves my lips is bitter and I almost flinch from the hostility I unintentionally produce. But if he can’t explain, I refuse to listen to his warning.
Stubbornness has always been my greatest downfall.
*****
Chapter 15
It took two hours for our men to return with eight additional people. As Hayden warned, two of them are injured. One man has an infected cut on his leg. The cut could have started as a small slice, but it’s now green and blue, swollen, and it has overtaken his entire calf. Without medical assistance, there is no way the man will survive.
The other man looks healthy at a glance, but as I stare at him, I notice his injury. He looks content as he sits still, but his shoulder is angled oddly. As I walk toward him, I diagnose his problem as a dislocated shoulder. “How long has it been like this?” I ask him. The man looks at me and widens his eyes, looking me up and down. I can’t help but wonder if I’m the first woman he’s seen in months.
“About a week,” he explains. “We had to climb trees to hide from some acid drinkers and I fell out.”
“Acid drinkers?” I ask, realizing that I’ve never heard the term before.
“Yeah, some people who drank the water died, but some of them survived. The ones who survived the water seemed to also escape the Red Death, but they’re some deformed hellions, let me tell you. I’d rather die than become like them,” he explains. I haven’t come across any acid drinkers, but I’m sure it will happen eventually.
“Well, falling out of the tree was bad luck, but I know what’s wrong with you and I can definitely fix it if you give me a chance. Are you sure it was two weeks? No more?” I clarify. He nods. “Your shoulder’s dislocated and your body has been healing around the dislocated shoulder, so we need to pop it back into the socket.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you sure you know how to do this?” He asks. I nod my head. “Because you look like a teenager and I’m sure there’s someone else who has experience in fixing shoulders, right?” The man sounds rightfully nervous. A dislocated shoulder hurts.
“My mom was a nurse and my sister suffered from seizures. She would fall and dislocate her shoulder sometimes, so my mom taught me to relocate her shoulder before she came out of her seizures. It was best to fix it before she got comfortable.” I hate using Charlie’s name in past tense, but I don’t want anyone to know she’s alive.
“You can fix it?” He asks with hope in his tone. I nod my head and take another step toward him.
“It will hurt—maybe worse than anything else you have ever felt. It will be worse than when it was dislocated, but if I don’t fix it and it completely heals like this, you won’t have much function in your arm for the rest of your life,” I explain gently.
“Do it,” he says confidently. He peels away the makeshift wrap and I stand behind him.
“Okay, this is going to hurt a lot. I’m going to count to three and—” Before I can finish my statement, I jerk his shoulder back with more force than I’d typically use. I know it will break away two weeks’ worth of healing, so it won’t relocate easily. Fortunately, on the first jerk, his shoulder pops into place and I take a deep breath, holding it back for a moment. He howls in pain and reaches for his shoulder, but I slap his hand away. “Give me your wrap,” I instruct.
With shaky movements, he hands me his wrap and I tie it around his shoulder in a makeshift sling. “Are you done?” He asks. His face is pale white and sweat glistens his forehead.
“I am. Just try to refrain from using this arm as much as possible. It needs some time to heal and it won’t be too difficult to dislocate it again in this state. It’s fragile right now.”
“Thank you so much,” he says, moving his fingers. With a dislocated shoulder, even twitching your wrist is an awful feeling. I feel bad for him.
“Hey, Jo. We’re heading out,” Moe shouts from across the camp. I give the man with the dislocated shoulder one last glance and walk away, passing the second injured man along the way.
“Do you know where we’re heading?” I ask. Moe shrugs and hauls his tent over his shoulders. Despite the lack of food and hardly adequate health, Moe is ripped. He has such a great muscle mass, an entire two-person tent, including titanium bars and a tent cover, weighs next to nothing in his opinion.
“West. The new members had a run in with some ‘acid drinkers’ in the east. I’ve never heard of those things before, but they sound nasty. Who would willingly drink the acidic rain? That’s just gross.” I laugh and we begin our trek. As previously decided, Jonathan, Moe and I take the lead. The man with an infected leg is being carried behind us, which causes a much slower pace. While usually we can walk many miles in a single day, the injuries slow us down. Hayden was right, but I wouldn’t admit it to him.
Injuries really do slow down the group.
“Do you think these guys purposely stumbled onto our group?” Moe asks me quietly. We’re surrounded by the newcomers and I don’t want him to speak too loudly. While our militia is carefully monitoring each of the nine newbies—Hayden included—I’d rather them not hear us talking about them.
“I think so, but not for any of the reasons you’re thinking.” I stop for a moment and bite my bottom lip. I look over my shoulder and find Hayden wandering through the middle of the group. For the briefest of moments, I wonder whether I should tell him about my old life, but quickly realize that I can trust him above all others. Moe has been nothing but a friend to me since arriving here. “Hayden and I knew each other before the rains,” I admit.
“Well I could have guessed that,” he retorts.
“No,” I begin, “you don’t understand. Hayden appeared out of nowhere, got hit by a car, and then healed before I could get him home and bandage him. There was literally blood everywhere, and it was his without a doubt, but there was no mark
on his skin. Then he came and warned me about the water situation like way before it happened. And he survived the Red Death like us, but what are the odds? It’s just all too weird.” I think back to my life with Charlie and widen my eyes. “And whenever my entire family died, he came to my house and told me to head west and stay safe. He said he’d find me eventually, which he did.” I shake my head and realize that I’m walking far faster than the rest of the group.
I slow my pace and look at Moe and Jonathan. Their expressions are both completely different, but equally confusing. Moe looks at me as if I just told him a joke and he’s trying to conceal his reaction. He’s laughing on the inside but attempting to look serious on the outside. Jonathan, on the other hand, looks as if he understands. It’s almost as if he knows what I’m talking about. “That’s… odd,” Moe says slowly.
“What gives?” I ask. “Am I missing something?”
Moe shakes his head and Jonathan merely smiles. “So, we’re probably going to lose two miles today at this rate,” Moe says, evidently changing the subject.
“We have to carry someone. We are bound to lose some time,” Jonathan reasons. “But we’re still moving, so it doesn’t matter. We’re in no hurry.”
But should we be in a hurry? I subtly turn my head and scan the faces of those behind me. I expect Hayden to be in the same area as before, but he isn’t. I furrow my brow and find myself straying behind Moe and Jonathan. I rush to catch up. “Do we have to go through the city to make it through or can we go around?” Moe asks.
I take a second to think. Randy typically trusts me with these decisions when I lead. “We need to avoid it. If we run into trouble, we won’t be fast enough to get away. And it’s a relatively large city, so I’m sure there will be trouble.”
“You suggest we go around?” Jonathan asks.
“Definitely. It may take an extra few days, but we can make it.” I turn to check on the back of the group and find that even at a slower pace, they are falling behind. Carrying a body takes a lot of energy and it is slowing us down tenfold. “I’m going to go and see if I can help us move faster. Keep this pace and if they fall too far behind, take it a touch slower.” Moe and Jonathan nod while I rush to the back of the group.
Eternal Rains: A Dystopian Trilogy (BOUND Book 1) Page 7
