“How about,” Arthur started, “we mull it over for a while? I could go further into the trees and see if there’s anything to eat.”
She looked at the sky, but there weren’t any birds around. “That sounds pretty good.” Her gaze slid back to Arthur and the various bruises visible on his person. “Will you be able to handle it?”
“Of course.” He stood up. straining to keep from wobbling or stumbling, neither of which would help his case just then.
She watched him. “Are you sure? I don’t want you eaten by wildlife or infected just because you want to show how much of a macho man you are. I can survive the day without another meal if you’d rather stay and recoup.”
Arthur sighed. To be honest, he wouldn’t mind a nice nap in the sunshine right now. Even if he wouldn’t actually fall asleep, not moving around so much might dull some of the throbs and aches from his fight.
But it wasn’t as if he’d never been hurt before. He’d made it through the apocalypse. He could push aside a few sore muscles and a headache to get some food.
Besides, he couldn’t just let her go hungry, now, could he?
“I can handle it.” He pulled his bow out of its holder.
“All right.” She looked up at him with a smile. “Good luck.”
Flushing, he nodded and hurried off.
Charlotte watched him before gazing across the river, southwest. She probably wasn’t going that way. So, backward or east? Backward, there could be a bridge or boat she had missed. East, there had to be a bridge soon enough, especially if Austin was close. It was a gamble either way, so she may as well have trusted Arthur. Going east a bit wouldn’t hurt anyone, anyway.
~*~
The sun hung low in the sky when steady footsteps crunched behind Charlotte. She pivoted to see Arthur finally emerging from the trees. Managing not to stumble over a shot monster, he ambled to the pier, two coyotes slung over his shoulders.
Scooting to make more room for him, she watched the meaty pelts plop to the ground beside her. Arthur soon followed, making little effort to keep his head from smacking the wood.
Barely hearing him groan over her stomach rumbling, she looked him over. No bite marks, or bad scratches for that matter. The dead coyotes looked whole enough for her tastes, too.
“Not bad,” she started, sweeping bangs out of her face.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, eyes closed. “Barely managed the second one, to be honest. Lucky the bugger didn’t rip my leg open.”
“I’m glad he didn’t.” She waited, watching him, but he didn’t move any more than necessary for breathing. “So—” she reclined onto her elbows “—did you figure out which way Austin is?”
“I’m not certain.” He gripped his elbows. “But, um, I really am under the impression it’s east, almost straight out.”
She exhaled, watching a cloud dissipate. “All right. We’ll head that way after we eat.”
Her smile was too fake for Arthur’s tastes.
“I mean… you don’t have to,” he started. “I’ve already held you up, and, I mean, he’s probably dead, anyway.”
She sat up straighter, turning her head towards him. “It’s someone in particular, then?”
“Ah?” He looked off to the side. “Um, yes. My roommate.”
“Huh. And you think he’s still hanging around the college?”
He shrugged, tilting his head back. “He was back home—still in the area—when things started getting bad. I can’t be sure if he went back to the university, but he liked the place enough.”
She nodded even though he wasn’t looking at her. “Once we’re in the city, you know how to find the university, right?”
“Yes.” He closed his eyes. “If my memory fails, there should be plenty of street signs.”
“Okay.” With an exhale, she swung her gaze out to the east. No city skyscrapers poked over the trees. But there were no good signs to the west, either. It was going to be a long walk either way. “Do you think you can go ahead and skin the coyotes now? I can do the rest if you want to nap while they cook.”
Arthur pushed himself up on his elbows. “Yes, I think I can manage.” With a grunt, he succeeded in sitting, though he still had to let his head stop spinning before he took off his backpack. As she slid the first kill in front of him, he fished out the skinning knife.
“I’ll get some firewood together.” She stepped into the grass. “Keep an eye out for infecteds since we’ll both be distracted.”
“Will do.”
Arthur watched her walk to the nearest tree and start splintering wood.
They were going to Austin, then. He didn’t completely understand why. It was out of the way, and Charlotte didn’t like abandoned buildings, of which there would be plenty. Only he had reasons for going, and they weren’t particularly good. What were the odds his roommate was alive? Not to mention how little the chance was that he had come back to the dorm and lived there for years. Would he even be in the city at all, if he had survived this long?
At the same time, Arthur couldn’t fight the stupid need to check. And maybe they would stumble upon something good for Charlotte while they were there.
Sure. Zombies at the best, bullets through her at the worst.
With a sigh, he shucked the last of the coyote organs from the meat and started on the next animal.
Why was he putting her through this again? It didn’t seem very kind. He would make sure she wouldn’t get hurt, but that was cancelled out when he was the one endangering her in the first place. Wonderful impression of himself he was giving. Not that he was capable of much better.
So off to Austin it was, vain or otherwise. He would just have to hope for the best.
And he was so wonderful at that.
9
By evening, the coyotes had been eaten and the pair was ready to move. Charlotte led the way east, taking it upon herself to do the shooting as Arthur dragged his feet behind her. Just ahead was a one-road neighborhood, but avoiding it wasn’t worth the trouble. There were few enough monsters looking for a bite to make them think humans had deserted the place.
As the two crossed a short eastward bridge, Arthur watched the last of the picnic tables disappear. Not a big deal. He didn’t need a table to throw a picnic, and he wasn’t prepared yet, anyway. He’d have to find some game that tasted a bit better than coyote, as well as some other fixings.
A rasp of breath tickled his ear.
“Holy sh—” Seeing Charlotte still ahead of him, he managed to catch his mouth as he turned. “—sh—” he cut off in a wheeze as he backed away from the zombie that had somehow snuck up on him.
Charlotte turned at the same time as him and fired on the monster. Ejecting the cartridge shakily, she frowned at the infected as it hit the ground with a squelch.
“Did you just notice him, too?” Arthur started, standing straight to make it seem like he had regained his composure.
“Yeah.” She slid the bolt back in place without looking away from the monster. “Sorry.”
“No worries.” He crossed his arms, eyeing the corpse. “It looks like he wasn’t about to bite me, anyway.”
Charlotte quickly reached the same conclusion. While the creature seemed healthy, as far as infecteds went, its lower jaw was gone. The frayed, exposed gore in the unnatural gap was enough to coax her gaze elsewhere.
“No reason to stay stopped.” Glancing at her compass, she waited to make sure Arthur was following before she continued across the road.
Sudden appearance aside, that infected had been pretty fresh. It was probably an unaffected human a few days ago. Where had it been then? Had it come here from Austin? If so, there wasn’t a good security system over there. Or perhaps they hadn’t found the cure and instead chased their infecteds away. That was a worse idea than going ahead and shooting them, though.
The infected could have left as a human, but that possibility wouldn’t yield much information. Austin didn’t have an iron grip on its inhabitants,
that was all. The guy could have been fleeing from some terror in the city. But, from the looks of the other monsters here, he would have been the only person to head this way recently. Or he could have come from somewhere else entirely. Saying anything would be jumping to conclusions.
Still, if a rambling infected could make it from Austin to here within a few days, the city must have been as close as Arthur seemed to believe.
Shooting down a monster—just another farther-gone one—she scrubbed a hand through her hair and frowned.
“Are you all right?”
“Eh?” She slid her hand back onto the rifle and glanced behind her at Arthur. The corners of his mouth bent down as he peered at her.
“Yeah, yeah.” She faced ahead again. “I’m just sort of a mess. Wouldn’t mind a shower, but the clouds aren’t looking too promising.” She sighed. “Or a nice, warm bath… But that’s all right.” She grinned back at him. “If you can still stand the smell of me, I don’t have much to worry about yet.”
“Er, right.” Nodding, Arthur rubbed his shoulder and looked off elsewhere.
The road split into a T ahead, and the rightward path soon gave way to another neighborhood street along the lake. Home after home, abandoned, boarded-up, gates sunken in and askew.
“So, Arthur,” Charlotte started, clearing her throat, “what’s this roommate of yours like?”
“Hm? Oh—” he thumbed at his arrows “—nice. And, uh, let’s say entertaining. Ridiculously intelligent; I’m not even sure why he wanted to go through university.”
She turned her right ear towards him. “Go through what?”
“Er, college. He just needed the piece of paper with ‘Biology B.S.’ on it before he went to medical school, I suppose.” He folded his arms as she took care of another monster. “He was well-off enough in his biology classes, but he could do anything perfectly. Except Literature.” He grinned. “Good thing he had me for that.”
“Nice.” She reloaded the rifle. “You’re good friends, huh?”
He blinked, head popping up. “Yes.” He chewed his lip. “Um, I guess so.”
Prodding him with her elbow, she snorted. “What, the tough-guy loner doesn’t want to admit he has friends?”
“N-no, that’s not it!” He rubbed the spot on his arm where she jabbed him. “I just… I don’t know.”
Shaking her head with a smile, she decided to let it rest for now.
Ahead, the road ended. The trees were thick, but some houses peeked through the gaps. She didn’t pause for long before deciding to stay along the shore. From there she and Arthur drifted on and off roads but kept walking. Her headache started to act up again, but the sun had nearly set, and she had to find shelter before she stopped.
A bit of exploring and monster-shooting later, she settled on a house with plenty of obstacles between it and the lake. Several shingles were crumbling, and other houses stood farther from the water. But this place had sturdy enough walls and had the extra bonus of being right in front of her.
A look inside didn’t change her mind. Skeletonized remains sprawled in the living room, and drawers and cabinets gaped empty, but the doors stood firm and the ceiling was intact. The two beds in the house were stripped of covers, but the evening was warm enough for that not to be an issue.
Arthur moved a tall dresser on carpet sliders in front of the master bedroom window as she kicked her shoes off.
“Do you want me to keep watch,” he panted, “or will we be safe enough blocking the entryways?”
“We’ll be fine. Go to the other bedroom and get some rest.”
He took a step backward. “Right.” After a glance behind him, he nodded at her. “Good night, then.”
“Good night.”
~*~
Charlotte got out of bed not long before dawn. Stretching only triggered a dull throb from her abdomen, so she pushed herself up and adjusted her clothing. With a yawn, she loaded up her bags and pulled her boots on.
She opened the door to find no figure hovering outside. “Arthur?” she started.
“Er, yes, coming!”
So he was awake. She popped her knuckles and walked through the doorway.
Arthur, fiddling with his bowstring, hurried towards her. Though his hair was always unkempt and his eyes tired, he seemed particularly bedraggled this morning.
“Did you not get much sleep?” She leaned her shoulder against the doorpost.
“No”—his hand flew to the back of his head—”but—I mean, yes, a bit, but, um, I woke up early, couldn’t fall back asleep, all that.” Watching his shoes, he shifted his feet. “Listen. While I was up, I checked out some of the other houses for, er, anything useful—you know. And if you’re ready to leave, there’s something I think you should see. In one of them.”
She blinked. “Okay, sure. Here—” she picked out a piece of jerky “—I’ll just nibble on this while we’re walking. Do you want one?”
She frowned as soon as the question was out of her mouth.
~*~
The back wall had suddenly rattled. Shivering, Charlotte had shifted, fighting the urge to look over her shoulder. It had just been he wind. Arthur had already told her the monsters never tried to get in here if they didn’t see him come inside.
With a sharp creak, the wall rattled again.
“Arthur?” Opening her eyes, she pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
He was holding up a book, but his eyes fell on her. “What is it?” He stood. “Do you need more water?”
“No, not… really.” She swallowed, sitting up a bit. “I just… You know the jerky in my backpack?”
“Er, yes.” He bookmarked and closed the book.
“Can you eat some of it?”
His mouth hung open for a moment. “I suppose, but, I mean, I’ve been eating enough, and…” He lowered his eyebrows, stepping over towards her to rest the back of his hand on her forehead. “Um, are you feeling well?”
“I’m fine.” She scooted further towards the back of the couch to get cozy, and Arthur flushed, pulling his hand away from her face.
“S-sor—”
“Relax,” she mumbled, closing her eyes again. “Listen, though. The jerky’s not just for food—it’s the cure for the plague.”
Starting to recover, he bobbed on his feet, looking over at the backpack absently. “Is it now?”
“Mmm-hmm. There’s a story, but, well, it’s not that important. Just try some, okay? It’s not as gross as it sounds.”
“It sounds gross?” His eyebrows went off-kilter in puzzlement.
“Well, just because it’s…” Finally catching herself, she shut her mouth.
He eyed the bag of jerky with rising suspicion. “It’s what?”
She closed her eyes, ready to feign sleep, but it probably wouldn’t help. “It’s—” she looked off to the side “—meat from infecteds.” She ended with a cough as if it would lessen the impact of her words.
“From—” With a gasp, he stumbled back and ran to put the couch between him and the open backpack. “Are you completely mad? Er—” He ducked behind the couch, outside her range of vision. “Well, I mean, I’m obviously the mad one here, but…” He stood. “Um—get back to sleep, all right? I’ll… be upstairs reading.”
Charlotte had opened her mouth, but she’d had neither the energy nor the patience to try to convince him. Instead she had sighed and further entangled herself in the fleece blanket.
~*~
“If not,” she sighed, “I still have a few energy bars in here.”
“Um, no, I’ll be fine, thanks.” Dipping his head, Arthur took a few steps back. Charlotte followed, and he led her to the front door. He swung the door open, ready for the open air, and instead faced five monsters.
The pair jumped back, and Charlotte fired on one of the monsters before he got an arrow nocked.
“Here,” he started, nailing a second one through the eye. “I can go ahead and do the shooting again. If that’s all
right with you.”
She pulled back, though she didn’t yet put her gun down. Backing up, he shot down another zombie, but by the time the next arrow was nocked he had to snap a kick into an intruder’s face. Putting an arrow through the other one, he proceeded to bash the last monster’s head into the doorframe a few times. Panting, he knelt to get his arrows back.
Charlotte let the rifle go slack in her hands for the moment. “Looks like you’re ready enough to shoot. Be careful, though.” Pivoting her foot, she watched him wipe the infected blood off one arrow. “They don’t have to bite you to infect you, you know. Any of their blood will do.”
“Hm?” He looked up at her, squinting. “Er, right. Sorry.” He slowed down the process of further staining the carpet.
After another minute, the arrows were back in his quiver, and he led Charlotte further. Though they had to stop a few more times for a few more monsters, they soon ended up in front of a large home. A dull light shone in one of the upstairs windows, and what seemed more like faded smoke than a cloud hung behind the building.
“It’s this one,” he announced, picking up the water bucket he must have left in the yard to mark it. He gestured towards the window, which glowed with a dim light. “Upstairs.” He swallowed. “Come on.”
Unable to draw any conclusions, she followed without asking questions. The smell of charcoal faded into a general mustiness as they walked indoors. Footsteps creaking over the wood floor, he went up the stairs and stopped in front of a closed door. He rubbed his hands and eyed the panel before turning towards her.
“Sorry about the lighting.” He reached for the doorknob after a false start. “No windows and no torches, so I just found a few decorative candles and set them aflame.”
“That should be fine,” she replied, her eyebrows low as she adjusted a shoulder strap.
“Okay.” He twisted the knob but stopped, fidgeting. “You can, um, take however long you need to. I’ll stand guard outside.”
She nodded, and, after taking a deep breath, he finally opened the door and stepped aside. Her boots thumped as she entered.
Along the Winding Road Page 6
