What Remains (Book 2): What's Left

by Fuller, James

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  What's Left

  Epilogue

  What’s Left

  Book Two

  James Fuller

  What’s Left

  Copyright © 2019 – James Fuller

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For permission requests, please contact the publisher.

  Formatting by Rik – Wild Seas Formatting

  The scope on the .303 rifle was damaged; two distinctive hairline cracks marred the upper left side of the outer glass. It only truly affected the shot when facing toward the direction of the sun; the light formed a strange prism within the scope, throwing off the distance and visibility of a target. If bullets were easier to come by it would have been a challenge happily accepted to learn to perfect a shot with such a handicap. But bullets were scarce, more so for a gun she wasn’t even allowed to have; undamaged scopes even more so. But this was life.

  Auska grinned, patting the side of the scarred-up rifle as if it were alive and would understand the affection. It was a hard-won trophy from nearly two years ago. She had killed its previous owner while his pants had been down around his ankles. He had thought he had cornered a helpless woman, lost and alone in the woods. He had promised to spare her life if she allowed him to ravish her body with little resistance. Playing the part perfectly had made him drop his guard. He had died too quickly for her taste, but she couldn’t afford to risk him getting the upper hand again. The fact that she had been caught off guard for him to sneak up on her in the first place angered her still to this day.

  Her lithe frame and youth were one of her most valuable assets in the dark, hardened world she had been born into. As much as she detested playing the weak and helpless maiden, it was a skill set she had used several times and to which she owed her life. She liked to believe he would have been proud of her for her resourcefulness. “Any weakness one can exploit to stay alive is one you should use. Honor and heroics will get you killed.” Words he had left imprinted on her very soul in the time they had travelled together.

  A flood of fresh guilt and pain assaulted her momentarily, for honor and heroics had proven his downfall... for her. She pushed the guilt away quickly, knowing it would do nothing to help. The past was done, over; only the future remained. Survival and seeing tomorrow; nothing more. To put too much hope beyond that would likely end in disappointment for many.

  Looking through the scope again she scanned the narrow area ahead. Two infected staggered about in the shadows of the trees, ever searching for living flesh to consume. They would find nothing at this time a day. Animals had learned their scent long ago and knew to stay far away from these devilish creatures. Only if an unprepared traveler happened by would they have a chance at feasting during the day.

  Travelers this far north were few and far between now. Most thoughts of a safer place had long faded into myths and legends, and so people accepted whatever life they could find. But when night came, that was their time and she had no doubt they would find a bedded down deer or elk, or some other helpless creature that didn’t stand a chance in the dark of night.

  Glancing up at the afternoon sun she knew it was too late to make it back without her absence being noticed. Hopefully, Barry would look the other way, or maybe she could bribe him again. Either way, she didn’t care. Bring on whatever punishment they found fitting for breaking their stupid rules and laws again. She wasn’t hurting anyone. She almost wished they would leave her behind, lock the doors and refuse her entry; at least then she’d only have one thing to worry about... herself. She grinned; not like she couldn’t still get over the walls unnoticed if she wanted.

  Auska slowed her breathing, waiting for the shot to come; it would only be a matter of time. The weight of her knife on her belt reminded her she could save a bullet if she wanted to live dangerously. But she didn’t want to risk it, not today of all days. Today was important to her, today she had to live. Tomorrow was another matter entirely.

  A cool breeze picked up and nipped at her face and bare hands, but she ignored it. Over the last eight years, she had become accustomed to the cold weather the north gave out. With winter quickly approaching, it would only get worse in the weeks to come until winter’s grasp squeezed them in tightly and trips outside the walls were almost nonexistent.

  Auska’s finger caressed the worn trigger delicately, her heart quickening as the two infected lurched and stumbled closer together. She had to be ready, she would likely only get one chance at this and it had already been near an hour. She hated waiting, but patience was important for survival. He had taught her that and often.

  “Come on you mindless fucks, I don’t have all bloody day,” she whispered, knowing it would take her at least an hour or more to get back to the others if they even waited for her. She really didn’t want to end up getting caught out here at night again. It wasn’t the danger that bothered her. It was the lying as to why she hadn’t returned with the group that was the hard part. Of late her rogue activities were frowned upon more and more, with punishments more hindering to her lifestyle.

  Sanctuary was, for all intents and purposes, safe and livable and for most more appealing than life outside the walls, regardless of the strict rules and crooked politics. For Auska it was almost worse, for her entry had been founded on a lie, one that at the time she didn’t even know about. Yet the council and many of the folk within still held her in contempt for it. The only reason they hadn’t been discarded was that Vincent and Kelli had promised to work themselves to the bone and do whatever was required of them. The first year had been brutal, but soon they had earned their place within Sanctuary, made a handful of friends and even a life if that’s what one could call it. But they seemed happy, fulfilled in a way, but she never had. If anything, she just felt emptier each passing year.

  Her body tensed as she knew the moment grew closer. His words echoed in her mind once more: ‘Never tense up, stay loose, a loose body reacts faster to a possible change in a situation.’ Licking her lips, she rolled her shoulders a few times, trying to unwind them.

  They were so close now; once again she ensured her aim. Three feet... two feet... “Come on you bastards,” she cursed silently. One foot... Her finger tightened dangerously on the trigger... Half a foot... So close… She had to remind herself to breathe.

  The rifle kicked in her arms, but she knew how to absorb it with ease. The bullet cleared a hundred yards in a blink, entered the first skull and exited through the second, dropping both infected to the forest floor, unmoving.

  “Eighty-six.” Auska grinned, shouldering the rifle. She retrieved her pack and made her way down into the small clearing.

  If any other infected were within the area they would come to the sound of the gunfire, but she was confident that she had scouted well and there was nothing around for a few miles.

  Before going to the rusted-out car she checked on her kills, making sure her shot was true and there wouldn’t be any unwelcome surprises. They were both dead and would no longer be a threat to anyone. From the look of them, they had been mindless creatures for some time; barely more than a few strains of matted hair remained on their rotting heads. Their clothes were nothing more than moldy strips pasted
onto putrid flesh. Eyes milky and dead, yet their sense of smell and hearing were impeccable; it was one of the reasons they were so dangerous. That and their seemingly endless strength and stamina. They never seemed to tire, nor did pain affect them as it should.

  Auska went to the corroded, half-buried shell of a car. The kind of car it had been she had no idea. The time where vehicles were plenty and knowledge of them widely known were long gone; she was a child of this world, had never known the world before. Anything of use had decades ago been stripped cleaned and likely traded a hundred times over by now.

  Now it served as nothing more than a landmark or a place for a traveler to spend the night if they were desperate enough. The car offered little protection from the elements and even less against the infected. There were no doors or glass in the windows, leaving the rusted shell wide open. But that wasn’t why she was here.

  She unclasped the silver chained necklace she wore and fingered the worn key a moment before pushing it into the lock. With a little work, she got it to turn again and it popped open. A musky odor seeped out but not nearly as bad as other times. The hinges creaked loudly in protest as it was forced open the rest of the way, allowing fresh air and sunlight into it after months without.

  Tears stung her eyes and she stared down at the trunk’s contents. Contents she herself had put there three years before after an extremely dangerous endeavor that had almost gotten her killed several times. But there was no regret and she would have done it a hundred times over if she had to.

  The bones were dirty and grey, dried pieces of what had once been skin or flesh resiliently clung onto their owner. Only the skull was clean, stripped down to the pure bone and washed thoroughly. She had considered cleaning the rest but knew he would have scolded her for wasting time on something that mattered so little. But it did matter; at least to her it did. One day, when she had more time, she would clean the rest in honor of him. To preserve what was left for as long as she could or until the time came when she no longer needed him; then she would find a spot he would have liked and bury him. Somewhere he could be alone, as he had liked.

  Sitting on the edge of the car Auska picked up the skull and moved it back and forth between her hands casually as if it were a ball. “You know, I’m still mad at you for lying to me all those years ago. You knew the cure was fake, you should have told me, I could have handled it. I would have handled it.” She sniffed back her emotions, this was a conversation she had had with him now several times. “You would have made me like you made me handle everything else that came at us. You would have slapped me and told me this was life and to fucking deal with it. You would have said a cure was a fairy tale my parents had created to give purpose to all this misery, to shelter the innocent girl I had been. I would have argued, and you would have slapped me again, told me the fairy tale was dead and an innocent girl I was no longer.” A long paused ensued, with a mournful sigh she continued, “It would have been better that way. You might even be alive to scold me still. To teach me all the things you didn’t get a chance to. I miss you, even more each day that passes. I hate how things are now. Sanctuary isn’t what we thought it would be... not at all how I dreamt it would be or even how my father promised it would be. It is a horrible place. I hate it, I hate them and all their rules and laws. They are stupid and corrupt, almost no better than what’s left out here in the wild. At least out here there is an honesty to it. No falseness to what needs to be done or how it’s done. I want to leave, but where else would I go? What else would I do? Sanctuary is the safe place that everyone wants to be. I should be thrilled I get to live there while others suffer worse than I, day after day, and yet I hate it there. Each year that passes I feel like I am even more of an outcast than the day I arrived.”

  She stood and began pacing around the car, still holding the skull out before her as if looking into the vacant eye sockets would make the skull understand her better. “It would have been different had you survived and come with us. You would have made them listen, would have made them do things better, smarter.” She nearly laughed at the thought. “No, no you wouldn’t have, you would have told them to fuck off and just left them to their delusional world after taking what you needed.”

  Tears stung at her eyes and she quickly wiped them away. He had hated tears and would have reprimanded her for such weakness. “But you would have taken me with you. You would have told me to stay, that I would be safer there,” she smirked, “but I know you would never have left me behind... things would have been better.”

  Auska slumped down on the trunk again. “I don’t belong there, I don’t fit in. I have tried to, but I just can’t, and I no longer even want to. I hate it. I’m so lost without you, without...” she sighed, “I don’t even know anymore… purpose, maybe.”

  A cold breeze reminded her that it was getting late. “I will be back when I can get away again.” She placed the skull back in the trunk and closed it, making sure it was locked and would not be easily disturbed if someone did happen by.

  With one last look at the car, she started north-east back towards Sanctuary and the others she had left behind. She would have to stop by her stash spot and hide the rifle. If she turned up with an unauthorized weapon, it would become Sanctuary property and she would never see it again. She wondered if they were looking for her yet, or if they had just left.

  The rusted can bounced off an ancient tree trunk, propelled by growing frustration. “Goddamn it! Why does she always have to do this? We should be on our way back home by now, you know where it’s safe and warm! Not waiting around for her to casually stroll on back like it was no big deal putting all our lives at risk, AGAIN!” A handful of the others murmured their agreement, while others just rolled their eyes at the typical outburst.

  “Calm yourself, Nick, before you blow that vein in your neck,” chuckled Barry, the leader of the Eighth Division. He was the youngest of the Division leaders, at only twenty-eight, but he had proven himself time and again capable of getting the job done and keeping those around him alive.

  He had taken a different approach to the leadership of his scavenging unit, one that had worked perfectly until the new addition had been thrust upon him. Rumors had come to him about Auska beforehand, so he had been aware of her. But when the council had assigned her to his unit, he had been shocked that she had even been allowed to join a Division after all he had heard. Then one morning there she was, in his command for better or worse.

  Some days were better; others like now made for the worst, but there was no denying she was capable and deadly. If only she listened to anyone else but herself.

  The tall girl of the group chuckled loud enough to draw everyone’s attention.

  “Is something funny, Jennifer?” Nick growled at the tall brunette.

  Her crystal blue eyes locked on him and he almost took a step back at the intensity. “Very, actually.” Standing up she jumped from the stump she was resting on and started to pace the clearing casually. “What real danger have we been in this trip? Hell, what real danger have we been in since Auska joined us? Let me think…,” she tapped her chin, “…well there was that one time… hmm nope, Auska killed those ones… but then there was that other… wait no, she killed those ones, too.”

  “What about the infected we came across today?” Jordon replied nervously, instantly feeling a fool.

  “That is a very good point, Jordon, what about the infected we came across today,” Jennifer said. “I am assuming you mean the three that we came across today that were already dead, clearly by the hand of our ever so vigilant forward scout. I mean it is true, they certainly were ugly… dangerous, sure, but that was before she got to them.”

  “Yeah, but what if there had been more?” Nick pushed his grievance, though he had lost some of his edge. It was true; Auska had been the best forward scout anyone had ever seen before. Even several of the other divisions often joked about taking her off Barry’s hands.

  “Then I expect there would
have been more bodies for us to find,” Jen countered with a cocky smirk. “Bottom line is we have yet to ever be in danger when Auska has run off. The worst thing we have to ever endure is waiting a few extra hours for her to return, which she always does and normally brings back things we all benefit from.” Several in the group voiced their hearty agreement. “If anything, she’s making the damn job boring as hell now. But you know what is good about boring? It’s safe.”

  “I’ve been with the Eighth now for seven months,” Jordon put in quickly, “I haven’t even seen a living infected yet. I figured by now I would have killed at least half a dozen by the way the other Divisions always talk.”

  Jennifer slapped him on the back. “I am sure your mother sleeps soundly knowing that you haven’t even seen one.”

  “Those other Division guys are full of crap anyway,” Michael added, scratching his unshaven face. “Maybe years ago there were that many, but now? Shit, if there were more than a dozen within a twenty-mile radius, I’d be surprised.”

  “They are still out there,” Dan replied. “I’ve been doing this for three years and I’ve killed nine of them myself so far.”

  Nick turned his irritation back to Barry, ignoring the others who he was losing. “It’s your fault you know. You let her get away with it. You let her do this shit every goddamn time! Gods, if you would crack the whip occasionally with her maybe she would be so inclined to follow a fucking plan!” He kicked at the ground again. “That mouth of hers better be as good on your cock as it is fabricating a bullshit story to save her ass,” he muttered, but loud enough.

  “Stand down, Nick!” snapped Tony, a normally quiet, grimy-faced Sanctuary veteran who was also second in command of the Eighth. Tony wasn’t overly tall, nor overly big, but he was a survivor; one look at him and you knew he had made it this long by doing whatever it took.