The candles weren’t great, but the mirror across the wall reflected their glow. While Charlotte found herself squinting, there was more than enough light to tell she was in a bathroom. The wall tiles were the same dull coral as the floor. Distorted flickers of candlelight shone on the clear water filling the coppery bathtub.
“You didn’t.” Laughing, she drew her fingertips over the surface. “Oh, gosh, it’s even warm.”
She turned her head to Arthur, who stood fidgeting in the doorway. “How long did it take to clean all this?”
“U-um—” he fussed with his collar “—I mean, I wasn’t going to fall asleep, anyway, so…” He looked at the water. “I-it’s okay, though, right? I, um, tried to find a clean tub, and—look!” He grabbed at the towel rack just to the side of the bath. “This house even had a nice towel!” He laughed loudly for some reason of which he wasn’t entirely sure.
He managed to cut off when Charlotte hugged him.
“That’s so sweet!” she cried, grinning as she released him. He immediately fell back on his rear, his face red and his mouth contorted as if he weren’t sure what emotion he was supposed to display.
Giggling, she helped him up. “I appreciate it.”
He emitted some sort of squeak before hastily clearing his throat. After some period of stammering, he squeezed his eyes shut and said, “I-I’ll go, um, keep guard, then?”
“Right.” She nudged him towards the door. Watching him sideways, she added, “Also, if I catch you peeping, I’m emptying a magazine in your chest.”
“U-u-understood!”
Shutting the door and twisting the knob to lock it, she unloaded her bags. She could still hear Arthur chortling to himself until she settled into the water.
~*~
Making sure she had loaded up everything, Charlotte gave her hair one last scrub with the towel and stepped to the door.
“It’s me making noise,” she started, fiddling with the doorknob to unlock it, “so don’t shoot. We really don’t want to do that again.”
Stepping to the side, she opened the door and stepped into the hallway. No monsters jumped at her, but Arthur wasn’t right there bobbing on his feet in anticipation. A look to her left proved he was slumped against the wall, his eyes closed and his strung bow lying on the carpet. She stood and waited before sighing and jabbing two fingers into his stomach.
With a choking sound, he bent double enough to lose friction with the wall. Stumbling away, he rubbed at his eyes and looked about frantically.
“You weren’t going to fall asleep, anyway, huh?” Charlotte started, hand on her hip.
“What?” Bewildered, he stared at her for a moment before checking his pockets and then finally seeing his bow on the floor. He stooped to pick it up and scrutinized it, though not without throwing glances back at her.
“Good morning,” she deadpanned.
“Oh.” Face turning red, he cleared his throat and checked the hallways. “Any zombies stumbling through would have, er, woken me up. A-anyway, no point in staying here any longer.” With a nod, he hurried to the stairs.
“How do I keep falling asleep? I must have a concussion.” He rubbed his forehead.
“Doesn’t matter how. Assume you need sleep until you’re sure otherwise.”
He paused, looking behind him before he flushed and hurried on to the front door.
She sighed. “We’ve burned enough daylight today, so I’m not stopping unless you really need it. Just promise you’ll give yourself the chance to sleep all you need tonight.”
“Um, right.” Squinting at the sunlight as she took the lead, he nodded. “I promise.”
“Okay.” She strode ahead, double-checking her direction before heading back towards the lake. “We ought to make it to Austin today, so be prepared to point the way once we’re in the city.”
He nodded again, withdrawing an arrow to take down a monster. Telling herself the saved bullets were worth the time, she waited for him to get the arrow back, and then she led them off again.
~*~
It wasn’t yet noon when Charlotte saw the bridge. Though the sun had been sapping her energy, she sped up immediately at the sight of the thing.
Obscured by faces of rock until now, the street stretched over the water. Its rust-colored arches cast sharp shadows on the asphalt. Once a bit closer, Charlotte could make out the concrete median and its crumbling copies at the bridge’s edges. As far as she could tell, the actual road looked fine, and nothing seemed wrong with the supports besides a little flaking paint. She needed no better.
She scurried along the shore drop-off before stepping over the metal railing at the grounded part of the road. Arthur, putting his bow away for now, stomped along after her, getting onto the road with less finesse.
She watched him retrieve his bow from its holster. “You sure you don’t need anything to eat?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “No, I’m fine. I’ve, um, eaten enough of your food, anyway.” He paused to catch his breath. “I’ll eat something once I shoot it down.”
“Wait long enough, and you won’t be able to shoot something down.”
He drew his shoulders up briefly. “I’ll manage, I promise. Let’s keep going.”
“All right,” she said, not convinced but walking ahead regardless. She glanced in both directions before straying into the right lane.
“Are there cars running these days?”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Not that I know of. Why?”
“Oh, er—” he scratched the back of his head “—you just seem to be checking for them a lot.”
“Ah.” She looked at the curves of metal arcing above them. “Habit, I guess.”
“I see.”
Watching him turn to shoot down an infected, she stopped, folding her arms. “It only takes one moving car to cause damage, though. Can’t be too careful, you know?” Passing a hand through her hair, she took a second to relish in how clean it was.
“I suppose.” He went over to retrieve his arrow. Cleaning it off, he turned back towards her and frowned. “Are you all right? You seem a bit, er, perturbed?”
“Oh, no, I’m fine.” She pivoted on her heel and got back to walking. “There was just…” She sighed. “I didn’t know her, and I didn’t see it happen. It was a while after the worst of things, when we wouldn’t have expected any cars, especially in the towns. But one of my best friends—his little sister was hit head-on by an SUV barreling through. The driver never stopped, but that wouldn’t have made a difference after the collision, anyway.” She rubbed her shoulder.
“Oh.” He bit his lip, letting his gaze slip onto his shoes. “I’m sorry.”
She exhaled. “Yeah. Not fun stuff.” Clearing her throat, she watched the arching bridge top descend as they progressed. “But hey—we’re finally crossing the lake. Let’s celebrate now and reflect on the worse stuff later, right?”
“Sure.” He thumbed a loose belt strap as they sidestepped a crashed car.
Wiping some sweat off her forehead, she smiled at the lake as it passed beneath. Ahead were trees and houses, not city skyscrapers and certainly not colleges. But that could be changed with more walking. In the mean time, this obstacle was down. She couldn’t say how many more would come, but they’d made it past one.
10
One more lake crossing, and they arrived in the city. Keeping an eye on the street signs, Arthur led. He hadn’t shot anything since cutting across the golf course near the shore. If this was Austin, where he had shoved through crowds fleeing from legions of zombies, the quiet was more than unsettling. Then again, there didn’t seem to be that many zombies in general compared to the start of things.
After some more walking, a monster finally emerged from behind a tree, its jaw slack in a growling grunt as it hurried towards them. In its condition, it wasn’t able to cover much ground before an arrow sent it sprawling. Rubbing his side, Arthur walked over and retrieved the weapon. No other zombies attacked h
im in the meantime. He glanced over his shoulder to check on Charlotte before continuing to walk along the street.
Having no reason not to, she continued following him. In general, he always gave the impression he had no idea what he was doing. But now he was striding ahead, checking street signs without commenting or hesitating. That didn’t necessarily mean he was leading her in the right direction, but it made him seem more capable. At any rate, if they were near Austin, he would know the area better than her.
As she kept an eye out for infecteds, her gaze dragged over houses. Plenty of abandoned homes had crossed their paths already, but that had been no more than a small neighborhood at once. Here, houses were crammed in along the road, block after block, street after street. Dozens—hundreds must have passed by, coating the ground on either side as far as she could see. And every single one of them was empty. Every single resident dead.
“Wh-what?”
It took Arthur’s flustered remark for her to realize she was right behind him, clinging to his arm.
“Nothing,” she choked, releasing her grip and stepping back.
Blushing, he hesitated. “It, er, sounded like you whimpered. Are you sure you’re okay?” He looked over her, as if some injury had caused her to seize his triceps.
“Yeah.” She inhaled shakily. “Sorry.”
“Okay,” he replied, though his brow remained furrowed. After another moment, he got back to walking. She followed, keeping her gaze on the road just ahead of her feet.
She didn’t need to be reacting like this. Hadn’t she known? If there were a more reasonable amount of people alive, Killeen would have gotten some help from them. There had to be this many gone. Surely she had figured that out by now.
Still, presuming wasn’t the same as seeing. With so many abandoned houses right in front of her, she couldn’t push the carnage to the back of her mind so easily. But she still had to. Hunt would have plenty of houses, so she needed to get used to the sight.
Austin had been huge, though. Maybe that was why anyone had yet to cross their path here. A higher population density meant a faster spread of infection, which meant a whole lot more to run away from. Were some of the immigrants to Killeen from Austin? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t ask people about their lives during the apocalypse.
A few footfalls later, her gaze had dragged from her feet to Arthur’s. She frowned.
“How long have you had those shoes?”
“Eh?” He looked down at the torn canvas peeking through the few gaps in duct tape. “A while.” He poked part of his big toe through a hole.
“Since you first left Austin?”
He nodded, coming to a stop as another monster rustled through branches.
Watching him draw, she frowned. “They can’t be much good anymore.”
He loosed the arrow and shrugged. “Nothing’s pierced through them recently. They’re not comfortable, and they slip on the smoother parts of the road. But, uh”—another shrug as he approached the infected—”none of the shoes at my house fit. By the time I decided I could use new ones, well, the closest houses were fresh out.”
She crossed her arms as he plucked out his arrow. “Keep an eye out for stores that might have shoes, then.” She eyed the duct tape, which flashed as he walked. “Those make me nervous.”
He exhaled. “All right, if you want to spare the time.”
“We can grab a few boxes in the right size and try them on at meals or something.” She wiped off her forehead. “Maybe you’ll walk faster with better shoes, anyway.”
His eyebrows sank. “Er, am I walking slowly?”
She held out a hand and made a so-so motion. “Little bit.”
Puffing out his chest, he took greater strides at once. With a laugh, she kept up.
~*~
A few shops began to creep in between the houses. Within another block, taller buildings limited visibility rather than trees. The gutted homes passed out of sight. Rolling her shoulders back, Charlotte exhaled in relief and stayed next to Arthur.
As a building with narrow windows slipped past, a dome emerged to their left. She peered at the new building as it came further into view. Was it the Capitol? It looked about right, the statue still perched at the top of the dome. This had to be Austin, then. No doubt about it.
Right before she turned back towards Arthur, she thought she saw a door slam shut. No one stood nearby, though, and the door didn’t open again. Surely she hadn’t been imagining it. There must have been a few people still here, after all.
Of course. Things couldn’t have been that bad. Just because she hadn’t seen any survivors in the neighborhood area didn’t mean there weren’t any. Maybe most of them back there had been holed up in their shelters. That was a much better idea than staying out gardening, at least.
The streets were nearly empty of cars and remains, but one parking garage was full. Abandoned cars, doors flung open and gas tank covers ajar, lay trapped by a crash at the exit ramp. Charlotte couldn’t see well enough to know whether all the owners had made it out. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to.
Directing her attention to the buildings beside them, she investigated their faces. Long and bleak, they did not look like shoe stores. With a frown, she looked ahead at Arthur’s shoes in time to see them moving faster. As they came up to a museum on the left, he picked up his pace even more. Affording a brief glance at the street signs, he hurried onto a wide footpath ahead.
She sped up as well, her boot heels clacking on the cement. “I take it you know where you’re going now.”
“Um, yes,” he panted. Saying nothing else, he strode ahead.
Matching orange-roofed buildings with various sponsor names on their signs sped past, and Charlotte realized they had already reached the university. They just had to find the dorms.
Veering left, Arthur broke into a jog. He cast a glance behind him to make sure she was still there. Then he kept his feet pounding the pavement until he arrived at the front steps of one building. Sucking in a few deep breaths, he tried the door. It swung open without much trouble, and no zombies emerged to bite him. Checking on Charlotte, who nodded, he went inside.
The halls were dark and cluttered with the occasional abandoned hat or textbook. Regardless, he crossed to the stairs without lessening his pace. Charlotte had to take the steps two at a time to keep up, but he only went to the second floor before leaving the stairwell. With one more glance back, he hurried past several doors and then pulled to a stop in front of the last one. In the sparse light, Charlotte couldn’t make out the room number, but Arthur had gone still enough to have recognized the room.
Not quite breathing, he reached for the handle.
“Could be locked,” he muttered. “Didn’t think to bring my key—do I even have it any more?”
Fumbling to check a back pocket with his free hand, he shook his head and looked back at the door. He hesitated for a moment more before trying to turn the handle. It gave, and the door swung open.
Blinking away the dazzle, he stared at the open blinds for a moment before the details of the room sharpened. The beds stood at opposite sides, their covers unruffled. The desks were empty of everything but their unlit lamps, yet the little bookshelf was still full of textbooks.
~*~
Arthur’s roommate had been at his desk, pulling a book from the shelf, when Arthur had stomped in. Slamming the door shut, he had screamed a well-rounded series of profanities concerning his statistics class and the impossibility of the assignment due tomorrow. Finishing with an inarticulate scream, he had thrown his textbook and binder against the wall with a resounding whap. The supplies ricocheted and collapsed onto his bed before he noticed his roommate.
“What?” Arthur snapped. “Am I interrupting your studies? Well, don’t worry. I’m done with all of this.” He gave his mattress a good kick, shuffling the books and notes on it in the process. With another swear, he rubbed his face and stamped back to the door.
“I hope you’ll enjoy
your solo room,” he growled before storming out.
For some reason, Arthur would make it to the next statistics class, although more from habit than hope. His neighbor had the gall to give him a look when he failed to get up and turn in his homework. With a displeased sneer, he opened his binder to demonstrate he had a very good reason.
Only then had he seen the filled-out papers tucked into the homework pocket. The handwriting had been close to his own, though he certainly hadn’t done this himself.
He had only come up with one other suspect by the time he had handed the paper in.
~*~
Releasing a held breath, Arthur stepped over the ground-down carpet and knelt at the bookshelf. His books were still there, at the bottom. Idly he slid one out from the middle. Texas history, of all things.
“I’m assuming this is the right room.” Charlotte sat on one of the beds.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, sliding the book back into place. On the shelf above were his roommate’s. Even the vague titles were enough to scare away any student of average IQ. Integrative Medicine? What even was that?
Standing up, he looked over the room and sighed. Just him and Charlotte.
He wandered to the free bed and leaned on it with his hands. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected him to be here.” Shaking his head, he stared at the blank wall.
“It was worth a shot,” Charlotte started.
He neither replied nor budged from where he stood, so she got up and examined the bookshelf.
“What were you looking at this for?” she started, pulling out the Texas textbook.
He looked over his shoulder. “Oh, just at random.” He made a face. “Believe me, if that class wasn’t required, I wouldn’t have been taking it. I’ve never been much for history, but, more than that, the teacher was a madman.”
With a dark chuckle, he looked back to the wall, a clearer canvas for the images playing across his mind. “I don’t think he realized any of us were taking other courses, let alone trying to—gasp—enjoy the first year of uni.” He scoffed. “I honestly can’t tell you how many all-nighters I had to pull for his class alone.”
Along the Winding Road Page 7
