“I can’t hold this anymore, Kal,” Abbie said, a pained expression on her face. She was hunching over more and more, which could not be good for her back.
“Come on Abs, just a few more steps to go. You’re walking forward anyway, it’s easier.” Kala quickened her backward pace, pulling Abbie along with her.
“Ahh, it’s killing my hands!”
Kala slammed her shin against the grey box once more and finally reached her bed. Then she moved it so the long side of the tote was parallel to the bed.
“Set it down!” cried Abbie, who had tears forming in her eyes. Abbie’s arms and hands were shaking violently.
“If we set it down, we won’t be strong enough to pick it up again! Now, heave!” Kala grunted and swung her end of the trunk toward the bed with all her might. She had gotten it up and over, but Abbie just couldn’t manage to pick her end up, her poor hands were finished and she dropped her end of the heavy tote.
“Crap!” Kala cursed, and put her back against Abbie’s end of the box. With a great deal of effort, she managed to shove the box the rest of the way onto the bed.
“You okay?” she asked Abbie.
Abbie glared at her, wringing her hands together.
“Right, okay. Sorry. I’ve got to go tuck Lukie in.”
“Yeah, I’ll just go get some ice for my hands!” Abbie shouted angrily after her.
“Good idea,” Kala called back cheerfully. Abbie could be such a whiner, she thought.
Luke’s room was a jungle of stuffed animals. They were everywhere in the small room: on shelves in the corners, stacked into neat rows with military-like precision on the floor, and of course, covering his bed. The room was small, probably smaller than Kala’s by half. This wasn’t due to some kind of parental prejudice. Luke simply didn’t need a lot of room. Kala, on the other hand, did.
Lukie’s room was very simple. It was ten foot by twelve foot with a closet full of neatly hung clothes. His bed was placed in the center of the space, not touching any of the walls. Most people would not have selected such a layout as it was not space-efficient.
Nonetheless, Lukie was not most people. Before Kala entered, she observed this evening’s formations of stuffed animals. The room had four corners. In each corner, extending toward the middle of the room and his bed, was a triangle of animals. They began in each of the room’s corners, then, in perfectly straight rows, they creeped out along the walls. When they were the proper distance from the corner (as determined by Luke) they formed a nice straight line from wall to wall, creating the hypotenuse of the right triangle.
It looked like a Roman battle formation, which knowing Lukie, it probably was. Luke was obsessed with order, lines, and perfection. The animals, she noticed, had also been separated by colors, with each of the four battalions being a different basic color.
Lukie lay on his back in the center of the bed waiting for Kala. . The covers were pulled up to his chin and smoothed out over the rest of his body. She knew he could not help it. His mind drove him to be compulsive about every detail in every situation. Kala walked quietly toward his bed, eying the attack bears warily, and being very careful not to disturb his carefully thought-out formations.
When she reached the edge of the bed, he smiled up at her and flung his comforter back a little. Then he squirmed his little body over to one side so Kala could slide into the twin-sized bed with him and put an arm over his chest. Luke immediately melted into her, snuggling against her neck and grasping her arm. Kala’s smile widened. He was a truly unique boy, and terribly sweet. His heart was so full of love, pure unadulterated love, for everyone. His head was a different story. Kala knew that there were figurative and literal battles that raged in his complicated mind, but his heart was brimming with love.
“I love you Kal,” he murmured softly into her neck.
“I love you too, Lukie,” Kala said, and she knew that she needed these cuddles just as much as he did. How could he have known? She didn’t have a clue. His thoughts would be a mystery to most people, but as she lay and felt his pure heart and gentle breaths against her, she thought he might know more than any of them ever would.
“Will you sing to me tonight, Kal?” he asked quietly.
Kala sighed through her nose. She took a moment before answering, “Not tonight, buddy. I have some work to do with Abbie this evening.”
“With Dad’s hunting stuff?”
“Yes, I’m gonna get it all cleaned up.”
“Okay,” the disappointment was evident in his voice.
“Tell you what. Tomorrow, I’ll tuck you in and sing you two songs.”
She felt Lukie’s soft cheeks pull into a smile against her arm.
“Thanks Kala.”
She kissed the top of his head. “Goodnight buddy.”
“G’night.”
Abbie’s composure was back when Kala returned, though she still gave her an ungrateful glare.
“So,” Abbie said, pulling the lid off the large plastic bin. She gazed inside, her eyes widening a touch. “Where do we start?”
Kala knew exactly what Abbie was seeing. Every year, Kala’s Dad took her to Louisiana to go hog hunting. It was her favorite time of year. They went for a week and killed as many hogs as they could fit in the freezers in the garage. Not that they would take more than the legal limit, they weren’t poachers for God’s sake, it’s just that there wasn’t a legal limit.
Feral hogs had been taking over the South. They weren’t a native creature and they wreaked havoc on the ecosystem. Not only that, but they were violent and dangerous to pets and children. Therefore, it was pretty much open season on hogs all the time. Usually that meant an SUV packed to the brim with the bristly smelly creatures for the eight-hour ride home.
It was the best. Not because Kala loved shooting — which she did — not because the hunt was both exhilarating and dangerous — which it was (her father’s leg had been gored by a tusk several years ago, and had an impressive scar to show for it), not even because they were able to pack two full freezers of meat for barbecuing and pulled pork sandwiches. It was all of that.
The reason it was Kala’s favorite was because it was just her and her dad. Kala was a lot like her father, but they didn’t hang out much because Jack was busy at work, and when he wasn’t at work, Kala was at school. They tried to have as many family dinners as they could, but she didn’t get him to herself very often.
“You’re like a tough teddy-bear,” she told her father once. He really was. Her dad was a big man with a rough exterior. Other men nodded at him with respect and gave him a wide berth. Kala knew that when it came to him and her mother, Dad was definitely the softy, especially with Kala. She was his little girl and he was her daddy. He took it easy on her - came close to spoiling her at times.
When they took off on their hunting trips, he went from being her dad to her buddy. Every night, even though it was quite warm, they made a campfire, relaxed, and basked in each other’s company.
“It’s good for conversation,” Jack would say. Then he would tell her stories from his childhood and jokes he learned growing up - some of them decidedly not appropriate.
Jack tried to teach her things with these stories, and she did learn.
“You need to have all the facts and then decide what you want to do for yourself.”
She didn’t understand what he meant by that when she was younger, but as Kala grew, she could feel his influence in her. She never took anything at face value.
“Check your sources.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that even if you hear something, if you read something, if you see something, don’t just believe it automatically.” He paused then said, “What I mean is, question everything. If something is legit, you’ll be able to double check it using mor
e than one reference.”
Kala had contemplated this for a minute.
“Understand?”
“I do. What about the Bible? We’re supposed to just believe that, right? That’s what Reverend Sal says.”
Jack had grinned at his daughter and wagged his finger at her. “Now you’re thinking. No way to double check that, is there?”
Kala shook her head thoughtfully.
“Time for bed, kid.”
Kala loved their camping and hunting trips, she really did. She gained something more than just quality time with Dad, though. Looking down into the plastic tote she thought, I’m kind of a badass, too. She could shoot damn well, that was for sure, and that was a good skill to have.
She reached into the tote and took out an AR-15 Blackout. She pulled it back into her shoulder, feeling the familiar cool touch of the composite stock against her skin.
“We start by unloading the bin. Then we clean the guns.” Kala grinned and then set the AR down on the floor beside her bed. “You still remember how to shoot don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” Abbie replied indignantly. “I came out shooting with you guys just a couple months ago, remember?”
Kala nodded in acknowledgement. She remembered. Abbie wasn’t a great shot, not like her and her father, but she was okay. Passable, is what her dad would say. Abbie could hit a tin can at fifty yards, but probably not at one hundred.
“Why are we getting these out, Kal?” Abbie looked at her pointedly.
Kala shrugged nonchalantly. “Just to have them all cleaned up and ready.”
“Kal, really?” Abbie was staring at her.
Kala sighed. “Okay, my dad is worried.”
“About, the zombie things?”
“Ugh, don’t call them zombies; we don’t know what the hell they are. But, well, yeah. He said he thinks things are going to get really bad.”
“Like, really bad?”
“Yes. He wants us to get the guns ready so we can defend ourselves if they start to overrun the city.”
“No way, there’s not that many of them, are there?”
Kala sighed again. “You’ve heard of the black plague, right?”
Abbie rolled her eyes. “Don’t patronize me; just get to your point.”
“Fine. The black plague almost completely wiped out Europe. It started with a handful of rats that were carrying infected fleas on board a ship. They hit land and boom, multiplied like crazy. Then everyone was dying.”
“And your dad thinks this could be like the Black Death?”
“He didn’t come right out and say that, but he implied that it was going to get very dangerous for us.”
Abbie let out a deep breath and said, “Okay, but this is pretty scary. After what happened to my sister, I mean. I just thought it was a freak thing.”
“I know Abs, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get you really scared again after, you know, Mariah.”
Abbie nodded. She reached down into the tote and pulled out the Smith and Wesson 500. She cradled the big gun in her palms.
“My dad always says to hope for the best and prepare for the worst,” lamented Abbie. When she looked up at Kala she had a tear running down her cheek. “I just wish my parents were here, Kal.” Her voice broke when she spoke.
Kala took the gun from her and wrapped her arms around her friend’s shoulder. She hugged her tightly. “I know, honey. Just help me out here, okay? Let’s not think about it too hard.”
Abbie nodded, then shook her head. “We’re going to have to think about it, and talk about it.” She pulled the gun back from Kala and held it up, the eight-inch barrel gleaming. “If we’re going to need to use these, we’d better have a plan. We’ll need to be able to defend the house.”
Kala smiled at her friend’s determination and nodded to acknowledge her agreement. Sometimes non-verbal communication said just as much as words. “All right, so what guns did you shoot with us?”
Kala and Abigail began pulling firearms and magazines out of the large tote and lining them up on the floor.
“So, I’ve shot both of the ARs, the Blackout and the Whisper,” Abbie said, pointing to the two semi-automatic rifles. “I’ve also fired the Smith and Wesson, though it kicked so hard I think it sprained my elbow,” she said with a frown.
“Well, if you hold it right, it doesn’t do that. Your stance has always been sloppy.”
Abigail sent daggers her way with her eyes.
“I mean, it could use improvement. Okay, anyway. Well, that’s good.”
“I’ve fired the shotgun-”
“The twelve-gauge?”
“Yeah, but only with slugs in it, I never fired any kind of shot.”
“So you haven’t used the 4-10, which is really just for little stuff anyway, and you haven’t shot the Winchester?”
“No. It was so heavy, I couldn’t hold it steady.”
“It’s a long rifle, for long shots. Heavy as shit, but dead-on accurate.”
“Yeah well, I haven’t used it.” Abigail surveyed the guns on the floor and assorted magazines lying next to them. “So, where’s all the ammo?”
“It’s in another small tote; Dad never likes to keep them in the same spot.”
“Okay, well we’ve got tons of guns, now what?”
“Dad said to be prepared, so let’s clean out the barrels, load up the magazines and have these all on standby.”
“Just in case?”
“Right, just in case. Your folks will be home in two days, so then there will be even more of us to keep safe.”
“And to help keep each other safe,” Abigail added.
“Right, exactly. I hope my dad is wrong,” Kala said as she fingered the skeletonized stock of one of the two AR-15s. “But if he isn’t, we’re probably going to have to hole up in the house for a while.”
“I wish he would come down here and tell us more about what he thinks is happening.”
Kala pulled the last of the firearms out of the tote. It was in a textile tactical holster. Her own personal pistol. She pulled out the M & P 9mm and held it up in front of her face. Her hand squeezed gently on the grip. It was light and perfectly balanced for her.
“And you’ve never shot this one.”
“Of course not, it never leaves your side.”
It was strange, Kala thought. When the hunting box opened, she felt herself slipping into a different mode, a different plane of being. She wasn’t Kala, the geeky science nerd from Dade High; she was Kala Bear (her dad’s name for her), a hunter who was knowledgeable and responsible with her weapons. She was also a deadly markswoman. With the Winchester, she could take out a boar at three hundred yards, and she had no problem putting a full 17-round clip into the ten-ring with her 9mm.
“I wish my dad was down here with us too, but he’s pretty sick. Before he went to bed, he told me he was going to take the day off tomorrow and that we were going to board up the house just like we do when there’s a hurricane. He’ll have a plan.”
“Why do you think this is happening now? I mean, this seems so sci-fi, doesn’t it? Even though I saw it first-hand.”
Kala sat on the bed and motioned for Abbie to come sit with her. Kala put an arm around her and they leaned their heads against each other.
“Love you, Kal.”
“Love you too, Abs. We’re going to get through this, okay?”
“Okay. Kal?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think I could shoot someone.”
Kala was silent for a minute.
“I know you could though, Kala.”
“What, am I some kind of psycho or something?”
“No, I just know how much you love your family, even your mom.”
&
nbsp; Kala wrinkled her nose.
“You would do anything to protect them.”
“I would,” Kala said with a sigh. “But I don’t know if I could shoot a person, Abbie. I mean, shooting a hog is easy when it comes right down to it. Line up the target, track the movement, and squeeze the trigger. If the gun is in your shoulder and your eyes are good, you’re going to hit your target. Shooting a person though, I don’t know about that. I’m glad we’ve got my dad. He’ll know what needs to be done.”
Abbie was watching her with a curious look on her face. “You know, you get more complicated the longer I know you.”
They were silent for a moment until Abbie burst out laughing.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“This is just so messed up Kala. I mean, this is SO messed up.”
“Why are you laughing like an idiot, then?”
“Because I don’t want to cry, bitch!” Abbie swung out and slapped Kala on the arm, hard.
“Hey!” Kala slapped her back, then grabbed ahold of her and held on tight. Abbie’s breathing was hard and fast. “Pull it together, Abs, it’s going to be okay.”
“How can you be sure?” she whispered into Kala’s shoulder.
“It has to be okay, it just does.” But she wasn’t sure, not really.
Abbie’s breathing slowed down and she pulled back from Kala.
“I just remembered, it’s your birthday tomorrow.”
Kala said, “Humph,” with a shrug.
“You can finally get your driver’s license. That is, if we can make it through the zombies.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not holding my breath. Guess we’ll see in the morning. Maybe this whole thing will be over by tomorrow. I’m sure the center for disease control is working on it around the clock.”
“Right, okay, so let’s load up those magazines now!”
Chapter 18
Silently, the spider crept up the outside seam of the tent. The material, which seemed so impermeable and slick to the human touch, was surprisingly porous. The nimble arachnid found many footholds in the densely woven fabric and followed the seam until it reached an apex at the top of the tent. Here the fabric was stretched tight and the three seams that came together were starting to pull apart, creating a half dollar sized hole. The spider inspected this chink in the tent’s armor, and determined it to be suitable.
Pathosis (A Dark Evolution Book 1) Page 14
