Eternal Rains: A Dystopian Trilogy (BOUND Book 1)

by Doug McGovern

  I know that I have ulterior motives, but it doesn’t need to be common knowledge. As I pass the man with the dislocated shoulder, I check it out. “It’s doing well,” he says before I am able to ask. “By the way, my name’s Sal.”

  “I’m Jo. If anything seems to be going wrong with it, just let me know and I’ll see if I can do anything. I’m not a doctor, but I may be able to help.” He nods appreciatively and I pass him by, looking for the person who seems to have disappeared from thin air.

  I pass Randy, who holds the tail of the group. “Where are you going?” He asks suspiciously.

  I shake my head, using the trust that I have earned. “I just need to check something out. I’ll be back in a second.” Randy doesn’t look like he believes me, but he agrees nevertheless. I march backward for mere seconds before realizing that this is a bad idea. If Hayden left, so be it. I have no reason to find him.

  I turn back toward the group and begin speed walking in their direction, in hindsight, leaving the protection of my heavily armed group was a bad decision. When a pair of arms wraps around my waist, I still. Before I’m able to react, one of the arms around my waist moves and a hand covers my mouth and pulls me into the trees alongside the road.

  I reach for the pistol in my waistband and as soon as my fingers slide along the cool metal, it is yanked from my grasp and tossed behind us. The group is so close—maybe ten feet away, but the distance is growing further the longer we stand in the trees. “Listen to me and don’t move,” a voice whispers in my ear. And, of course, the voice belongs to Hayden.

  “Get off me,” I try to shout, but his hand over my mouth deters any literate statements from exiting my lips.

  “I’m going to remove my hand and you’re going to lie right here and not move a muscle.” I nod my head in agreement, but as soon as he lets me go, I plan on rushing back to the group and warning them. “I’m serious, Jo Leigh. This is for your own safety.” I nod once again.

  Hayden’s arm slowly untangles from my waist and his hand slips away from my mouth. I make it look as if I’m crouching and planning to follow his orders, but as soon as he takes a step backward, I pounce back onto the road. I know that if I run hard, I can make it to the group before he can reach me. I hear Hayden’s footsteps echoing behind me. I’m twenty feet away, but I’m gaining fast. Hayden isn’t gaining on me. In fact, he sounds further and further away.

  Ten feet. If I shout now, they’ll hear me and turn around, but then it’s likely that Hayden will be caught in the crossfire.

  Five feet. A gunshot rings and I slow down, unsure of who took the shot.

  And then another shot rings and Hayden’s arms are around me once again, pulling me into the trees. I watch as one of the newest members of our group falls. I lay in the dirt a few feet from the road, watching as people collapse, blood surrounding their bodies.

  And Hayden lies on top of me, making sure I don’t make a sound. It takes me almost an entire minute before I can comprehend what is happening in front of me. “Moe,” I shout. But my voice is lost among the chaos and gunshots. I attempt to crawl away from Hayden, but he doesn’t allow me to move. “Let me go. I can’t lose him too. I can’t,” I plead, but he doesn’t move. “Hayden. They’re going to kill him,” I screech. Hayden only responds by covering my mouth once again. I struggle as much as I can, but it does nothing to loosen the grip.

  I can’t find Moe in the crowd of fallen people. His large work boots don’t stick out and his massive body isn’t there. It fills me with hope when I find Jonathan standing behind a tree, firing his own shots. His expression is blank, but if Moe had died, Jonathan wouldn’t be fighting so ruthlessly. He would be devastated, and I would surely see it on his face.

  I scan the people on the ground and my heart drops when I notice Sal face down on the road. His shoulder is noticeable dislocated once again and he isn’t moving. Randy is the closest to us and he lies on his back, gasping for breath. He’s not dead—or not yet, at least.

  I find my eyes wandering back to Jonathan who is holding his own against the enemy. From my position, I can’t see who’s firing shots at us, but they’ve taken down much of our group and I can only assume that they are one of the clans. Jonathan glances to the other side of the road—the side on which I’m lying. His eyes widen and he jumps from his secure hiding spot. I can only imagine what he’s seeing and try to avoid looking in the direction.

  Jonathan must forget about the opposing shots and as soon as he’s on the road, his body becomes riddled with shots. I scream behind Hayden’s hand, but the scream doesn’t reach even my own ears. As the rest of my group falls, I can’t peel my eyes from my friend’s bullet-riddled body.

  *****

  Chapter 16

  It feels like hours of sitting in the bushes and after a while, I stop trying to pull away from Hayden. Jonathan’s body stopped moving mere moments after he was shot. I still don’t know where Moe is or if he’s safe, but judging by the silence surrounding us, I can only assume that he and his friend Jonathan suffered the same fate.

  “I think they’re gone,” Hayden mumbles and scoots away from me slowly. I don’t dare move. I didn’t see the people as they marched through, for I was more concerned about my friend’s death. I noticed only small parts of the people—their huge boots and uniform steps as they marched. They didn’t stop to survey the deceased or search for us once everyone had fallen. They continued marching, unaffected by the large-scale massacre. It was as if we were a mere road obstacle in their eyes.

  I find myself unable to speak, but I bring myself to my hands and knees and survey the forty bodies lying on the road. “Jo Leigh,” Hayden begins. “You do not want to look for your friends,” he says. I shake my head and crawl in Jonathan’s direction. Something inside me is unable to comprehend the bodies I am evading. They’re still warm, but oddly still. My eyes lock on Jonathan and I stand on my wobbly legs, almost falling in the process of standing. My torn boots aren’t doing me any favors, but I don’t feel the stabbing pain from the ripped insoles.

  “Jonathan,” I whisper, dropping to my knees in front of him. He doesn’t move, breathe, or flinch. He’s still as warm as he’d always been, so he can’t be dead, can he? “Please get up,” I plead as tears stream down my cheeks.

  “Jo Leigh, we need to get away from them and keep moving,” Hayden says, but I hardly comprehend that he is speaking to me.

  I stare at Jonathan and follow his outreached hand to a single figure along the tree lines. He is sitting in a fetal position and holding his abdomen, but despite the pain in his posture and childlike fragility, I can tell that its Moe and he is still alive. “Moe,” I whisper. I stand on my rubber legs and wobble in his direction before falling into him. Blood seeps through his fingertips, but I pay it no notice. He’s the last one alive. “How—how are you alive?” I ask.

  He doesn’t speak. He holds his gun in his fingertips and stares down at it as if it’s tempting him. “I was supposed to protect him. It was my only job,” he mumbles. The gun that he twirls in his fingers makes me feel vulnerable.

  “Moe, you have me. I have you. We’re not alone,” I whisper. He’s my only friend, but part of me knows that I’ll never be as close to him as Jonathan was.

  “Jo Leigh,” Hayden says with a warning in his tone.

  Moe lifts his hand and I finally see the full injury on his abdomen. It’s not a single gunshot wound. Two holes are torn through the shirt and a third has penetrated his arm, which I hadn’t noticed before now. “Moe, listen to me. You’re going to be okay. We can get you medication and bandages. We can stitch up the holes and you’ll live a long life.”

  We all know that there isn’t much truth behind my words. Sure, we’re close to a city, but the likelihood of me entering and exiting with medicine is slim to none. On top of that, if a bullet nicked any of his vital organs, I don’t know how to do surgery. The chances of an infection are high, chances of survival are low, and we can’t hold onto hope. But I will, n
evertheless. “I can’t live without him,” Moe says. His hand on the gun steadies and he looks up at me. “Go with Hayden and trust him. All he wants is your safety and he will explain when you’re ready. He is to you what Jonathan was to me and you’ll understand one day. I’m going to die soon, and there’s nothing you can do about it. But you need to go before they come back to clear our bodies from the roadway.”

  I shake my head and look at the gun in Moe’s hand. Why is it loaded and what does he plan on doing with it? “You don’t have to die.”

  Moe shakes his head gently. “It’s my time to go,” he says. I notice Hayden’s gentle grip on my arm and have the urge to rip my arm away, but I don’t. Why does Moe want me to trust Hayden?

  “Jo Leigh, we must leave,” Hayden instructs.

  “Be careful, Jo. And don’t be stubborn. Just listen to him,” Moe says. He knows me almost as well as my entire family had known me. Three months with a person ensures that you know them well.

  “Please don’t be a hard head. Try to save yourself,” I tell Moe with a serious look. After all that has happened, mustering a smile is too much. “I love you, buddy.”

  Hayden pulls me away before I can hear his response. I don’t speak for about five minutes of slow walking, but when I hear a gunshot echo in the close distance, I jump. I know the type of gun that was shot based on the sound it made and I know who shoots a Glock 22 other than me. I continue to hobble along without saying a word to Hayden, but I’m sure he knows where the sound originated.

  *****

  Chapter 17

  “Are you going to tell me why we’re running?” I ask Hayden. He all but drug me away from my dead friends and ordered that we head as far west as possible, but I was never given a reason. He handed me my gun as we began walking and I slipped it into my waistband. That’s the most interaction we’ve had since leaving Moe.

  “You don’t need to know. Not yet,” he says firmly, leading the way. I find it harder to continue walking in my jagged, torn, and practically unusable boots. They have been rubbing my heels raw for days and I didn’t think to strip one of my friends of their belongings. It was too personal and I had a hard time doing that with people I had never met, not to mention the people I have spent the last three months of my life protecting.

  I sigh and continue limping behind Hayden and slowing him down. He turns toward me and his eyes are drawn to my boots. I look down at the brown monstrosities attached to my feet. “Why do you have these boots? Why don’t you have proper apparel?” He asks. I can almost detect some anger in his tone and I stop in my tracks.

  “Tell me why we’re running,” I insist. Hayden takes a deep breath and turns to face me fully.

  “You can’t handle the truth yet,” he says. He reaches toward the ground and before I can figure out what he’s doing, he has one of his boots in his hand. He throws it at my feet and removes the other before I can say a word.

  “Whoa,” I say, holding out a hand. “I’m not taking your shoes. I’ve had these for months and they’ve done just fine,” I defend. My boots were functional a few months back, but they aren’t durable and they weren’t made to last.

  “Your boots are worn,” Hayden explains as if that’s a good enough reason to give me his own.

  “And you need shoes as well. I can live with these until I find another pair. I’m not wearing your boots. Now, why are we running?” I persist. I’ve never been one to give up easily. In fact, I’ve always been obnoxiously persistent and stubborn. If Hayden had known me before, he wouldn’t be attempting to withhold information.

  “They’re terrible people. I think you called them clans? I heard someone in your group talking about them.” I tilt my head and look up at him. “They’re trying to kill everyone who is unwilling to join them. I believe it’s the lack of a governing body that gives them the ability to take charge. They are moving from the east to the west, following the disease in its tracks. We are running west until we can’t anymore. There’s nothing to do but outrun them. They have numbers and weapons, and we have nothing.”

  I’m thrilled that he’s finally divulging his information. I feel another step closer to him as he explains something that he knows, but I know that for each thing he tells me, there are five more things that he’s hiding. “How far west are they?” I ask.

  “There are groups everywhere. Sometimes you’ll run into an individual, but groups are more common. Individuals are often rogue and far more dangerous and unpredictable. I’ve encountered a few and none of them have gone down easily. But the masses have just entered the country. They can’t be further than the coastal areas. But as they grow closer, more groups follow. We’re not safe here,” Hayden explains. I believe everything he is telling me. It makes sense.

  “We’re in Nebraska. We just crossed from Iowa in the last few days. If they’re in the coastal areas, we’ve made good time. They can’t catch us,” I say. My mentality has been severely wounded by the losses of my newfound friends and reunion of a person from my prior life. This may be why it takes me so long to realize the largest dilemma in this situation. “Wait, they’re heading west?” I ask. Hayden nods as if it’s blatantly obvious. After all, he did just explain their route. “And they are going to scour everywhere that the disease reached?”

  I feel my heart pounding in my fingertips and everywhere else on my body. Charlie.

  “Jo Leigh, what’s wrong?” Hayden asks. He wouldn’t understand. As far as he knows, my sister is dead. I begin pacing back and forth.

  “How fast do they travel?” I ask, ignoring his questions.

  Hayden shakes his head in confusion. “Very quickly. The stop when there is a sign of life, but if not, they continue moving forward. They don’t take breaks and don’t set up camp for the night.”

  To Hayden, my reaction of pure panic is outrageous and uncalled for. But he doesn’t know that my sister is in the clans’ direct path and she will be one of the casualties if I don’t reach her first. I peel the boots from my feet, knowing that they’ll only slow me down. An infected cut on the bottom of my foot is well-worth the satisfaction of saving my sister’s life.

  Hayden calls after me as I begin running toward the city that I was trying to avoid. I need a gas station. Gas stations have maps and that’s all I need to get back home to Indiana. Rocks knick my feet and I embrace the pain and push myself to run harder. And harder. I don’t remember ever running so quickly—though I have never needed to run as fast as I am right now.

  Buildings surround me and shattered glass lines the sidewalks and part of the roadways. Cars are parked on the side of the streets and some are stopped directly in the middle. Could this city look more like a stereotypical post-apocalyptic town? The glass in the street and the reality of this situation hits me like a brick and I stop in my tracks. What if they get to Carlie before me? What if she’s gone and I can’t save her?

  Hayden steps in front of me and he looks hardly winded. As I come back to reality, I feel the burning of my lungs and the pain in my knees and toes. I gulp the air into my lungs, but running is not the sole cause of the air depletion. Am I having a panic attack? I grasp my chest and look at the ground, trying to breathe, but my breaths grow more shallow and I am unable to consume the amount of air that my body requires.

  “Jo Leigh,” I hear beside my face. Black dots begin filling my vision and my heart rate accelerates. “Listen to me. Whatever is wrong, we can fix it. Just tell me what to do,” he pleads. I shake my head and begin wheezing. I need more air. Charlie could be dying and I’m not even strong enough to continue walking. “Shit.” Hearing that word escape Hayden’s mouth sounds almost foreign, but I close my eyes and keep trying to accomplish the simple bodily function that keeps my entire body alive. “Breathe,” he whispers in a tone that I can’t place.

  But the oddest thing happens.

  With the single command, my lungs slowly allow air to penetrate them. It’s not all at once, but little by little I attain the oxygen that my body n
eeds. Finally, after a moment, I open my eyes and see Hayden closer that I would have imagined. He stands in front of me, both hands on my hips and looking into my eyes intensely. “Thanks,” I whisper hoarsely, still hesitant to speak with the fear of losing my ability to breathe once again. I don’t know why I’m thanking him, but he did something to pull me out of my moment and deserves thanks.

  “Explain to me why you are so scared,” he says. I would typically laugh at his wording of my situation. I am not afraid. I am terrified that my sister won’t be alive when I reach her—if I reach her. Panic claws at the back of my throat, but this time, I force it back down and allow it to scourge my insides slowly and deliberately.

  “My entire family didn’t die,” I whisper the statement as if there is a possibility that it will reach ears other than our own, but it won’t. We’re the only ones here and my dirty little secret floats in the thick air between our two bodies.

  “I thought they all died.”

  “Not Charlie. And I’m going to find her. She’s alive and I have to beat the clans to her.” Hayden may not understand the love between two siblings, but he can’t suppress mine.

  “You are not rushing toward the clans. You will die and I cannot allow that to happen,” he says, leaving no room for argument.

  I take a step away from him. “You can try to stop me, but I am going. You can either help me or leave me to do this on my own. Either way, I will succeed.” There goes my stubbornness once again.

  Hayden lessens the distance between us once again. “You don’t know the awful things that are between here and your sister. It is unlikely that we will survive the journey and even more unlikely that your sister will be alive by the time we reach her.”