Survival Instinct (Book 4): Defensive Instinct

by Kristal Stittle

  “We’ll meet up with the others and head home,” Jon confirmed as he picked up Thumper’s reins. The horse bumped his shoulder with his nose, eager to go back outside.

  Once everything was out the door, they headed back the way they had come.

  Not one of the young men had noticed that they had been spotted.

  ***

  They reached the secondary camp by sundown. The carts felt like they had gotten three times as heavy before they were pushed through the rollup door.

  “Good job, guys.” Lenny slapped Danny on the shoulder as he entered. The door then rattled shut behind him.

  Inside the mechanic’s shop attached to the car dealership, Lenny and Shaidi had been left in charge of guarding their temporary forward-operating base. In one corner stood three other horses. In the opposite corner stood a pair of large horse-drawn carts. One of the carts was already loaded up with supplies from previous days.

  “I’m going to take care of Thumper. Can you get the map?” Jon asked, already starting to remove items from the horse’s back. The beast of burden looked excited to see his fellow horses, and kept inching his way toward them.

  Danny was grateful to release his cart and let Lenny take over.

  “Shaidi outside?” Bryce asked as they moved toward the larger carts. The gear would be unloaded and made ready for moving out tomorrow morning.

  “Yeah, she found a way up onto the roof,” Lenny answered as Danny made his way further into the garage.

  Against the back wall was where they had set up a sort of living quarters. Every time Danny saw the seat that had been removed from the back of a van, his heart gave a lurch. The first night after the zombies came, he had spent it in a garage similar to this one but much smaller. It was there that his brother Mathias had found him, but it was also that same night he had seen five-year-old Alice for the last time before she was killed. Although the van seat was the comfiest place and they took turns sleeping on it, Danny wouldn’t take a turn. He couldn’t.

  Why do I always find myself in garages? he thought as he approached the tool bench beside the little living area. Even on the cruise ship, he was often in a makeshift garage that had been set up for the helicopters. Danny had wanted to be a helicopter pilot growing up and got to live his dream for only a short while. Thanks to a complete absence of fuel, their helicopter had eventually been stripped down for parts to be used elsewhere.

  On the tool bench was spread a map of the area. The garage and its immediate surroundings were marked with a red circle, while larger blue, green, yellow, and purple squares jutted out around it like dandelion petals. Danny followed the coloured blocks to their outer edge, where he located the quadrant they had finished searching. Picking up the next coloured pen in the sequence—purple—he drew a box around the area. He then picked up green and placed a tiny dot on the painting supply store that was in the next search area. The grid around the garage had been paying out quite a number of supplies and they might return to it on their next hunt. Looking at the rest of the map, Danny scanned the areas where they had already been. Unfolding the map would reveal dozens of red circles in the middle of colourful squares that spiralled out from them. They liked to stagger their scavenge sites this far out, so that other humans couldn’t just follow the emptied places back to where they lived. Checking the map, Danny figured it would take at least two days but more likely three for them to get back home to the container yard.

  “Map’s been updated,” he told the others as he walked over to help them move the supplies from the smaller carts to the larger ones. It didn’t take long before it was all ready to go, the shopping carts themselves strapped to the backs of the large carts while the flat bed trolley hung off the side of one. The next morning, the horses would be harnessed together to the carts and they could head out.

  “I’m going to check on Shaidi,” Danny said as he headed outside. The others were settling around the living area, spreading out their sleeping mats once more.

  Outside, the streets were quiet and dim. The sun had sunk below the horizon, but still threw rays of coloured light onto the few clouds drifting by overhead. Garbage clung to the curbs, but not much. The place was a ghost town. Small animals skittered about, often just out of sight. Insects droned as they always did, only they were more noticeable not having to compete with the sounds of traffic, TVs, and conversations. Danny knew it wasn’t safe to stand around on the street by himself for too long. Zombies and dangerous humans weren’t the only threat out there. A wild pack of dogs could easily be deadly, and they once spotted a pride of lions that must have escaped from a zoo and had managed to survive. There was no telling what other animals had escaped. Then there were the rats. Rats were carriers of the disease, and it made them extra aggressive, more prone to biting.

  A deep hiss drained the blood from Danny’s face and drew his attention behind him. A block away, a long flat snout was making its way around a corner.

  “Danny,” a voice whispered from above.

  Danny looked up and spied Shaidi staring down at him with her cat-like eyes.

  “The way up is over there,” she pointed toward the far side of the car dealership, thankfully away from the scaly beast that was lumbering into an intersection. It would spot Danny soon enough.

  Dashing in the direction that Shaidi had indicated, Danny didn’t bother to look back. He knew well enough what was coming. Just around the corner was a ladder. The bottom had formerly had a cage locked over it, but the lock lay broken on the ground having met Shaidi’s bolt cutters. Scrambling up, Danny reached the roof in no time. He quickly made his way to Shaidi’s side and looked back down on the street.

  The alligator had made its way into the intersection and seemed to be deciding on which way to go next. A small handful of animals acted strangely when infected, their behaviours changing but not in typical ways. Alligators, for instance, suddenly shunned the waterways, and instead took to walking about in search of prey. They weren’t any more aggressive than normal, but then they didn’t need to be to threaten the humans.

  “I hate alligators,” Shaidi mumbled as they watched it make a decision and lumber off down another street. Danny didn’t really hate them, but he had a healthy fear of the reptiles.

  As the sun continued to plunge farther and farther into the west, the day became so much darker. Gone were the human-made lights to keep the darkness at bay, to reveal the monsters lurking within it; monsters like infected alligators, who loved to hunt in the inky black of night.

  “Have a good time out there?” Shaidi whispered, relaxing now that the alligator was out of sight.

  “Probably a better time than you, spending all day up on this roof,” Danny whispered back.

  Shaidi gently elbowed him in the ribs. “I have a great time up here. Get to watch all the animals who usually run away from you stinking lot. I spotted a twelve-point buck this morning.”

  “And you didn’t shoot it?” Danny pouted. Everyone had grown to enjoy the taste of venison, as it had become a common meat source. They had even captured a few deer and were trying to create a sustainable herd on Animal Island.

  “I didn’t know how long you boys would be out, and I didn’t have anything to pack the meat in. Not to mention that Lenny and I don’t have a good place for a fire of that sort. Oh, and that alligator is not the first I’ve seen in the area. There’s a bigger one lurking about.”

  “Okay, I get it.” Danny grinned and put up his hands in surrender.

  “I also thought he was too beautiful to shoot,” Shaidi added as an afterthought.

  Danny nodded, understanding. There were just certain animals on which you couldn’t pull the trigger when they were in your crosshairs. He wondered why that was.

  “We should probably go inside while we know the streets are clear,” Shaidi recommended, pulling away from the edge of the roof.

  “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

  Before he followed Shaidi back to the ladder, Danny looked up
at the sky. It was a moonless night, but the stars were coming out in ever increasing multiples. Back at the container yard, where Danny knew he was safe, he would spend hours watching the twinkling points of light so very far overhead. Now was not a good time or place however, so he quickly looked away and scrambled down the ladder after Shaidi. Once at the bottom, she closed the gate back over the lower rungs and hung the broken lock from it. It would discourage other things from climbing, but a human could easily figure out the lock was broken.

  Back inside, the other four were gathered around a tiny cook fire, putting together a late dinner. Its smoke gathered against the high ceiling, while the group of battery-powered electric lights threw a cheery glow about the garage. Even the horses, whose movements were limited by their tethers, clustered as close as they could to the solar lanterns. Danny quickly located his pack where he had left it, and unstrapped the bedroll from the top, rolling it out on the floor near the others.

  “What’s on the menu for tonight?” Shaidi asked Lenny who seemed to be the boss of their makeshift kitchen.

  “Stew,” he answered simply as he stirred a large pot. It felt like they were always having stew.

  Danny sat quietly on the floor, leaning against a thick square post, and waited for dinner to be ready. He pulled off his boots and rubbed his feet while waiting. Even after years of spending days on his feet, they still got sore, as did his hips and knees. Despite knowing this, he still went out scavenging every time there was a call for it. He couldn’t relax if he was in the container yard too long.

  Once the food had been eaten, and all but one of the lights turned off, the group of six made their way into their sleeping bags. Bryce was given the van seat that night, as well as first watch. Danny’s was in the middle of the night, his least favourite time, but then no one liked taking the middle watches and so they rotated. Curling up, Danny held the corner of his pillow with both hands, remembering an old stuffed animal he had lost when the Diana sank. As he closed his eyes, he tried to think of bright sunny days in the container yard, as opposed to the pitch-black murk of the sea.

  In the moonless dark outside, things moved in the shadows. This was the case every night, but something was different. Something stayed still, its eyes upon the garage where the scavengers rested inside. The watcher’s gaze was filled with intent.

  5

  Riley’s Concerned

  While the canoes were being loaded, Riley sifted through her packed bag again, making sure she had everything she needed. She wanted to go through the coolers as well, but once they were pulled out of the cold water of the large bay, it was a bad idea to open them.

  “Mom, did you grab my hair brush?” Hope asked, going through her own bag.

  “It’s in the side pocket,” Riley said, gesturing to her daughter’s bag. She watched as Hope found the brush and packed it in a different pocket. Although she still left the bag packing to her mom, Hope had begun having her own ideas about what went where. Riley was glad her daughter had decided to come with her.

  “Five more minutes!” Karsten called out in his German accent. He was in charge of the canoe voyage, currently making sure that all the supplies they were giving to the people at the Black Box were properly loaded. All along the end of the large cement dock were people making last minute preparations. Riley had intended for this to be a small journey, but apparently Karsten had other ideas. He had been overdue for a shipment, and when Riley had requested some boats, he thought now was as good a time as any. Riley couldn’t begrudge the man for doing his job, for turning several trips into one, but it did mean they were leaving considerably later than she had wanted.

  Hope didn’t mind the delay at all as it meant she got to spend the morning with her friends. Her hair was still damp and soaking the back of her shirt from their swim that morning.

  “Once your hair is dry, remember to put your head gear back on,” Riley reminded her offhandedly.

  “I know, Mom,” her daughter responded with a roll of her eyes, a habit she had no doubt picked up from Riley herself: those eyes that were the exact same as her father’s.

  “Are you excited to see Peter?” Riley changed topics.

  “Yes!” Hope grinned at her, showing all of her teeth which were a mix of adult and baby, with a gap along the bottom where one had recently vacated. “It’s been years!”

  “It’s been four months, actually,” Riley told her.

  “Which is like years when you’re not an old fogey,” Hope retorted.

  “Are you calling your mom an old fogey?” One of Riley’s patients was sitting nearby and overheard the conversation. “Because I don’t know what that would make me.”

  “You’re a cool old dude, Mr. Bill,” Hope told the white-haired man who liked to tell pre-zombie stories to the kids.

  “I’m a cool old dude,” Bill said to Riley in a proud voice, yet lifting his eyebrows in a knowing way that made Riley chuckle.

  “All right, gear’s packed up. Everyone prepare to board,” Karsten called over everybody’s heads.

  Riley performed a quick head count of her patients, making sure she hadn’t forgotten anyone and that no one had run off to grab a last minute item. They were all present. Forming orderly lines, those that were taking the trip to the Black Box began to board the canoes. The cement dock was very high, which meant they had to climb down ladders into the boats. It was a wobbly affair, but from experience and with assistance from those already in the canoes, no one fell overboard or had any other sort of accident. Riley helped Hope off the ladder, then took the seat behind her once she sat down. The canoes were very long, able to hold several people each along with the gear. All who boarded picked up paddles that lay strapped to the outside of each seat.

  “Everyone aboard?” Karsten called up to the woman on the dock. She would pull the ladders up once they were gone.

  She replied with a thumbs up.

  “All right, canoes, push off.”

  Together, the passengers placed the ends of their paddles against the cement wall—which had been studded with ringbolts so that the canoes could be held against it while loading—and pushed out into open water. The paddle blades were then plunged through the surface and everyone worked together to move forward. It wasn’t long before a simple song started up amongst the paddlers to help them keep in time with one another. Hope sang along, but Riley kept quiet. She had never been one for camp songs.

  On either side of the canoe train, a person in a single kayak kept pace: one out in the front on the left and one at the back on the right. The kayaks were more manoeuvrable and acted as lookouts for the convoy. They also carried high-powered rifles secured in waterproof bags. Although the canoes were armed as well, all hands would be needed if they had to escape to safety. Had Riley been travelling alone, she would have taken one of the kayaks, but unfortunately this couldn’t be a solo trip.

  It wasn’t long before they were away from the shipping container dock and heading for the gap between Animal Island and a somewhat smaller island that they used to quarantine potentially sick creatures. Between the container yard and the larger island spanned the most precarious bridge that Riley had ever seen. Nearly all the lifeboats from the Diana, along with a hodgepodge of barrels and large, plastic, dock floats, had been strapped together in a line with innumerable wooden boards attached to the tops of them. The thing bobbed and wiggled with the current and waves, its unsteady motion having bucked many people off into the seawater, earning it the name Bitch Bridge. There were plans to complete a rope railing along one side, but so far it only stretched about a quarter of the way. Riley hated that bridge and refused to let Hope cross over it, allowing her daughter to visit the island only via boat. It would be too easy to get a leg caught between its many shifting parts and have it snap. She didn’t know how her sister Cameron managed to cross it as often as she did.

  On the far side of Bitch Bridge, the rest of their water transports lay pulled up on the shore. The canoes and kayaks woul
d get damaged if they were kept tied up to the cement dock, and so they rested on Animal Island until they were needed. It was the one advantage Riley could think of having Karsten turn her trip into a convoy: she didn’t have to cross Bitch Bridge herself to get the boats.

  Beyond the overturned canoes and kayaks stood the only true structure on Animal Island. It was half-shack, half-tent, and housed the only veterinarian who had become a permanent resident of the place. Riley didn’t know how he could stand it there, especially when the wind picked up. Maybe he had crossed Bitch Bridge once and decided never again. Along with the shack were a few simple board and wire fences, but the surrounding water made the best barrier for keeping the animals contained. As Riley watched the island begin to slip by, she saw a lonely cow looking back. Cameron appeared on the hill above it, carrying a halter and clearly searching for the wandering cow. When she spotted the flotilla paddling by, Cameron raised her hand and waved. Riley, Hope, and several others who saw her waved back. On the other side of them, Quarantine Island remained empty.

  Beyond the pair of islands, they crossed the larger half of the great bay and entered the wide river. The speed of the canoes slowed down at that point, with inexperienced paddlers becoming weary on the long journey as the current worked against them. That was all right though. The river water was always much calmer, and therefore safer than the rough waves of the bay.

  Riley remembered the first time she and Hope had travelled these waters. It had been only a couple of days after Mathias had died. His loss still felt like an empty place in Riley’s heart, but back then it had been so much more. It had been a freshly ripped wound, tearing her in half and hollowing out her guts and mind. She suspected that her grief was the reason she had eventually left the Black Box with the others. The place held no memories for her beyond terrible ones. Cameron and Danny had also decided to leave, and Riley still needed their support: not just for herself, but for Hope. There had been days when it took everything Riley possessed just to get out of bed. There were days when even that hadn’t been enough. How was she supposed to take care of a five-year-old child when she could barely manage to take care of herself? The answer was that she couldn’t. Cameron took care of both of them, as well as Dakota, and Danny helped where he could. Others did as well, but they weren’t family and weren’t sure how to act in such a situation. Riley had been born to a family who prepared for every physical eventuality they could think of, but no one had prepared her for what depression was truly like. It had been easier to abandon the hospital she worked in on the Day, than to deal with the loss of her husband. If she hadn’t had Hope to worry about, Riley would not likely have made it through that dark period of her life. The Black Box only reminded her of it, which was why she didn’t visit all that often.