Odium IV: The Dead Saga

by Claire C. Riley

  There are only seats for three people, so Vicki takes this as her chance to go and clean some of the guns they found on their last drive out. It’s a job she apparently loves doing. And it leaves me, SJ, and her kid Moo on guard for the day, which is more than enough.

  Moo is the oddest kid I have ever met. Dark blond choppy hair, blue-green eyes, and an attitude that’s killer. As the day wears on I realize that there’s more to her than just her snippy attitude and typical teenage eye rolling. She’s funny, and caring, and she loves her mom more than anything in the world.

  Before the world went to hell she loved Justin Bieber, and she loses cool points for that, of course. But she also laughs when I say I hope Justin was the first to get eaten, and she doesn’t throw a fit over my flippant comment, so she gains some of those cool points back.

  The best thing about SJ and Moo, though, is how they bounce off each other so much. They are both competitive, compassionate, and love each other so much that it makes me ache for Nina. Moo hates being up here because of her fear of heights, but she still does it regardless, and I realize that they are rarely without each other. They’ve lost the rest of their family over the past few years, but it’s clear that they have no intention of losing each other. Even if that means practically living in each other’s pockets constantly.

  I think of Nina and how often we went off to do our own thing and I wish I could take it all back and live like Moo and SJ. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation without her.

  I look out toward the horizon, thinking I’ve seen the truck returning, or at least dust billowing which would imply the truck was returning, but after several tense moments I realize it’s just a couple of deaders in the distance and I sigh.

  “Nothing?” SJ says and I shake my head no. She seems concerned for me, and it just makes me like her all the more. I think Nina would have liked her too. She’s a real protective mother-bear figure—soft and cuddly on the outside, but hard on the inside. And I have no doubt that she’ll gut anyone who might try to hurt Moo.

  “They’ll be back soon,” I say, sitting back down. My leg is feeling so much better since Stormy loosened the stitches. The stronger pain relief is helping also, no doubt.

  “I hate being up here,” Moo says for the sixth or seventh time in the past couple of hours. She’s sat cross-legged on the floor, sharpening her knife and doesn’t bother to look up at either of us as she says it.

  “I know,” SJ says, her gaze lingering on her daughter. Her face lights up with a smile a moment later. “Hey, Moo, do the thing, the dance. Show Mikey!” SJ laughs.

  Moo rolls her eyes dramatically in a gesture that reminds me of Nina, but then she smiles and stands up. “Fine, but just once,” she says and then begins doing some weird dance move—if it can be called that.

  I frown and raise an eyebrow. “Is she okay?” I ask, only half joking.

  SJ laughs harder. “It’s dapping. It was all the craze back then.”

  “Mom! Dabbing—it’s dabbing, not dapping!” Moo groans and sits back down before picking up her knife and continuing to sharpen it.

  But I’m still stuck on the Back then comment referring to pre-apocalypse. I don’t think about back then very often. Certainly not in the way of what I miss or what’s changed. I always figure, what’s the point? I mean, everything has changed and I miss everything too. Well, almost everything.

  “Hey, Mikey, do you want Moo to teach you how to dab? She taught me, she’s a great teacher,” SJ says cheerfully as she tries to pull me back out of my funk.

  I laugh but decline the offer. My gaze strays to the horizon once more, where a truck is clearly headed our way. Dust is billowing up behind it, creating a cloud of smoke in its wake. I stand up and look through the binoculars, feeling a little hope as our truck comes back into view.

  “I’m heading down to the gate. I’ll get Vicki to come on up,” I say as I climb down the ladder, not waiting for SJ to reply.

  Alfie is already rolling the gate open when I get there, and O’Donnell drives the truck through, parking it in its place. She opens the door and climbs out, with Kelli and Ricky doing the same. Kelli pats my arm and offers me a small smile as she walks by.

  O’Donnell nods for me to follow her as she and Ricky head toward Aiken’s house.

  “Well? Anything?” I ask, trying not to sound too frantic.

  O’Donnell shakes her head. “Nothing on the kid. It looks like he went into the field for sure.”

  “Okay, that’s progress at least, right?” I ask.

  O’Donnell smiles at me. “Yeah, it is. As my mom used to say, no news is good news, right?”

  I’m not so sure on that. Right now I’d kill for some news—any news. Dead, alive, I just want to know where he is. But I also know that that possibility of finding out anything substantial is slipping away each and every day. If he’s alive, he’s safely tucked away somewhere and we might not find him ever again. If he’s a deader then he’s shambling the hell away from here. And if he’s dead—well, that didn’t bare thinking about.

  We reach Aiken’s house and climb the steps, but when I start to go inside, Ricky puts a hand on my chest. “He’ll call for you if he wants to see you.”

  I glare at him and grip his hand as I move it off me. My gaze strays to O’Donnell, but she purses her lips in defeat.

  “He’ll call you if he wants to see you, Mikey,” she says and turns to go inside.

  “Fine,” I say, wanting to say something else but know I need to keep my calm.

  Ricky glances down at my freshly bandaged leg. “I see you’ve been resting up. That’s good.” And then he turns and walks into the house, shutting the door behind him.

  I sit down on the steps, feeling like a waster, because that’s exactly what I’ve been doing today—resting. It’s what I needed, but not what I wanted to do. In fact, I’m beginning to feel like an injured wolf. And injured wolves get taken down by the other dogs in the pack. As voices drift out to me from inside Aiken’s house, I swear to myself that I won’t be the weaker wolf for long.

  The door eventually opens, and O’Donnell and Ricky come back out. Ricky walks away giving me a mock salute and O’Donnell sits down next to me. I stare at her profile for several moments while I wait for her to speak.

  “We’re going back tomorrow. We only watched them for today,” she says.

  “And tomorrow?” I ask.

  “Tomorrow we need to take them down.” Her voice is filled with frustration and dread, as if this isn’t what she wants to do at all, but of course it’s the NEO way, and Aiken is calling the shots.

  I let her words settle before I reply. “Who are they?” I finally ask.

  “Honestly, we don’t really know yet. But what we do know is that they’re dangerous. There’s a lot of them, and they have a lot of weapons,” she laughs without humor, the same dread in her tone as moments ago. She turns to look at me finally. “They could turn up here at any time, and though we’d win that battle, we’d lose a lot of people in the process. Aiken won’t take that risk. He won’t risk any of our people.”

  She stands up and I copy her, and when she walks away, I follow silently. We head over to her house, but when I try to follow her inside she places a hand on my chest like Ricky had done, and stops me.

  “I wasn’t,” I start. “I mean, I didn’t think—”

  “I know,” she replies. “But I don’t want the lines getting blurred again. You’ve made your feelings clear, and I want to respect that.”

  I run a hand through my hair. “I wasn’t following you for that reason,” I say with a small laugh.

  “I know, but who’s to say I didn’t want that to be the reason?” She winks and goes inside, shutting the door behind her, and I’m left all alone on her porch, feeling like a kid who just got dumped before prom.

  I only followed her because I don’t know where else to go. Who else to talk to. Phil is still out with Aimee and some others on a supply run to an old grocery store,
and with nothing new to tell Joan, I don’t want to go over there.

  I circle around Haven three or four times, eventually heading back to Phil’s house and sitting on his porch swing while I wait for him to come back. I’m hungry again; my stomach is growling something fierce, but I don’t want to take Phil’s food without checking with him first. And I don’t feel like I’ve done anything to earn any food from Haven stores. So I sit, and I wait, feeling lonely and confused. And hungry.

  *

  I wake in the morning, still on the porch swing outside, only now I’m lay down. A steaming cup of coffee is on the floor, and its strong smell is wafting up to me. I know I woke up several times through the night, with images of Adam being torn apart by dogs and deaders, or Nina being blown apart by Fallon. Yet each time I woke, I hadn’t been able to find the energy to go inside and go to bed so I’d stayed on the porch swing. Or maybe I was piss-scared of being attacked by Foxxxy and Zazz again.

  I sit up and stretch out my back before reaching down and picking up the mug of coffee. I drink it as I walk inside the house and call Phil’s name. He pops his head out of his animal room and gives me a smile. In his arms is a light-brown-haired skunk, but I can’t remember what her name is.

  I follow him inside and see that thankfully I’ve missed feeding time. At least the day seems to be starting better than yesterday.

  “Good sleep?” he asks with a laugh.

  “Oh yeah, the best,” I grumble, swallowing back the coffee. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “You looked pretty peaceful out there, dude.”

  “It was dangerous,” I reply. “If a deader would have gotten in,” I start but then stop talking, because what’s the point? What’s done is done, and it was my responsibility to keep myself safe, not anyone else’s.

  Phil is watching me carefully, a small smile on his face. “I’ll wake you next time,” he says simply.

  “Thanks,” I reply. He puts the skunk away and then moves to another tank, and I decide I’ve seen enough for one morning already and I head out of the room. I put my mug in the kitchen and head back outside to the porch, and moments later Phil joins me. He shuts and locks the door behind him.

  “No strange visitors last night then?” he asks.

  “I’m assuming you mean your creepy-crawlies?”

  He laughs. “Yeah, or anyone else.”

  I frown and stare off into the empty street. “No, nothing and no one.” It’s still pretty early and people are only just starting to wake up. I can see curtains being drawn back from windows and such but no one seems to be up and ready to roll yet.

  We make it over to Aiken’s house and Phil knocks on the door once. The door opens and I see it’s Kelli this time. She smiles at me and jerks a thumb to the living room.

  “He’s in there, waiting for you,” she says. “Leg feeling better?” she asks as I pass her.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I reply.

  I’m barely limping today and I’m already feeling a lot better. The swelling has started to go down in my leg, and the antibiotics are doing their job. I’m hopeful that I’ll be allowed to go with them today, especially if they plan on taking out that crew in the barn—though I can’t say I agree with doing that just yet. Sure, they shot at us, but maybe they saw us as the threat. After all, we had been heading toward their home. And what would NEO do if people were heading towards Haven? Would we wait and ask questions later? Or would we shoot what we perceived to be the enemy before it arrived? I had a feeling that I knew the answer to that question already.

  Ricky and O’Donnell are already there, and they look up as Phil and I enter.

  “You rest up that leg yesterday?” Aiken asks immediately, his matchstick in his mouth again.

  I nod. “Yes, all day. But I was on guard duty, keeping watch, so I was at least trying to pull my weight.”

  Aiken seems pleased by that. “And how’s it feeling today?”

  “Much better,” I answer truthfully. “Still hurts a little, but I’m not limping and the swelling has gone down. Meds are definitely working.”

  “All right, all right,” Aiken says with a smile. “Well then you better pay attention to what’s going on if you’re heading out with the group.”

  I sit down, feeling grateful that I can do something more useful today. “O’Donnell said you want to take out the other crew?” I pose it as a question, though I already know the answer of course.

  Aiken nods. “Indeed we do. Can’t go having a threat like that sitting on our doorstep. I’m not risking my people.”

  “I agree,” Ricky says. “It’s not worth the safety of everyone in Haven.”

  O’Donnell looks uncertain but she nods in agreement regardless when Aiken looks across at her. She leans over the map and points to a small area. “Yesterday, we hid the truck there and went around the back, here.” She points to another part. “I think we can do the same thing today by flanking the other side, here.” She points to another part of the map. “We can check for the kid that way too.”

  Aiken doesn’t look completely convinced that it’s the best idea, and neither am I, but I’m grateful that she’s still trying to think of Adam and how to get him home.

  “And if this other crew sees you, what then?” Aiken asks, his voice tinged with irritation. “You’re cornered.”

  O’Donnell shakes her head. “Those fields are so overgrown, there’s no way they could see us in there. We’ll have plenty of cover to take out that crew and we can look for the kid. It makes sense, Aiken,” she says, pleading my case for me.

  Aiken goes silent while he stares down at the map. His matchstick moves from side to side while he thinks about it, and I do a silent prayer that he agrees to this plan, because there’s not a chance in hell I’m not looking for Adam today. And if they think Adam’s gone into that field, that’s exactly where I’ll be going. Even if it kills me doing it.

  “All right, all right, let’s do it then. But, O’Donnell, your first priority is taking out that crew. Once that’s done, you can properly search for the kid without worrying that someone’s going to shoot you in the back. Ya hear me?”

  O’Donnell nods. “I hear you, boss.”

  Phil laughs. “We’re gonna need bigger guns.” He turns his attention to Aiken. “Can I take the rocket launcher?”

  Aiken grins. “That sounds like a damn good idea.” He turns to me then, his expression suddenly serious. He frowns as he thinks over what he wants to say, but I can already tell it’s not something I’m going to like.

  “Just spit it out, Aiken,” I eventually say.

  “Ricky here thinks your friend is dead,” he replies, his head jerking towards Ricky.

  I watch Aiken, knowing by the twitch in his jaw and the cool stare that he’s testing me, and probably Ricky as well, but I can’t work out which way around would make me the winner. On one hand being a NEO means sticking together and protecting one another no matter the cost, so we should go after Adam and rescue him, or make sure he’s definitely dead. But on the other hand it’s a dangerous mission, especially now with the barn full of lunatics shooting at us. Will Aiken want to risk his crew for one kid? For me?

  In the end I have to go with my gut. Mainly because if Nina taught me anything it was that sometimes, there was no other real option than to say what’s on your mind and be damned with the consequences. Of course, she also taught me that it didn’t always work out so well when you did that.

  “I think he might be right, though I also think Ricky is a pussy,” I say. “But I have to try and find Adam. I owe him that much. So I think we should go and try to find a helpless little kid, clear that barn of whoever is hiding in it, and take all of their supplies. Then we can begin clearing to the west, and take control of it.”

  I don’t even look in Ricky’s direction when I talk, though I can bet what his expression is right now.

  Aiken smiles again. “You’re a cocky son of a bitch, and I like that about you, Mikey,” Aiken says, clapping
his hands together.

  Aiken stands up and moves to the window, the sun warming his back, and he looks over us all. O’Donnell and Ricky stand up, both tense and ready to go, and Phil and I follow suit.

  “Let me tell you a little story,” Aiken begins, his hard gaze moving over us all. “My daddy used to drive trucks for a living,” Aiken eventually says. “He’d be gone for weeks on end. An ice road trucker, they used to call him. One of the best in the business. Nothin’ ever stopped him from making his delivery. Not even zeds.” He shakes his head and moves the matchstick from one side of his mouth to the other. “He was a stubborn old bastard. By the time he made it back home to us, my mom was a zed.” Aiken reaches up and pulls the matchstick free of his mouth, and then he runs his tongue along his teeth, a look of disgust crossing his features. “She’d already killed my sister before I could stop her, but she didn’t get me. No, sir.”

  “Boss?” Ricky says cautiously.

  Aiken’s gaze slowly moves to him. “My daddy had put others before his own family. His own pride before his wife. His arrogance before his kids.” He reaches up and puts the matchstick back. “I killed him in his sleep that first night home. I waited for him to bar the windows better than I had, and then when he was sleeping I slit his throat.”

  Aiken stops talking and walks toward us, his stare deadly, and I realize it’s the only time since my first night here that I’ve felt truly threatened by Aiken—that I realize how dangerous he really is. His nice guy act is just that: an act. A pretense to keep us all at ease. I had wondered what made everyone jump when he told them too, because the Aiken I had seen was easy going and laid back, but I saw it now. He was a leader, and he was in control even when it seemed like he wasn’t.

  O’Donnell reaches out and pats Ricky on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get going.” She grabs his jacket and begins to walk away, pulling him with her. “We’ll be back before nightfall, boss,” she says.

  “You see that you do,” Aiken replies. His gaze meets mine, a small frown between his eyebrows.