The Chasing Series Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Hamrick, R M

  Audra moved from maple tree to maple tree, pulling the shriveled winged seeds from branches, shaking off the cobwebs. Flavors would differ from tree to tree, but winter declared they would all be bitter. Still, snapping the wing off and popping the seed pod into her mouth — it was better than nothing.

  Audra recalled Gordon’s directions to find the town. It had to be close. Maybe not close enough. Or maybe she was lost. The sky’s grey whiteness vaguely lit the forest, but also hid the time from her. She pushed forward. The cool day would lead to a cold night she wouldn’t want to suffer in her flimsy summer tent. She needed walls. Shelter.

  While she was sure the letter would find its way in, she wasn’t so sure if she’d be allowed to accompany it. Audra and Osprey Point no longer had anything of value to offer. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it. For now, she just wanted to find the small town before the sun tumbled from its hidden perch.

  * * *

  Audra all but stumbled upon her destination. She had been sure she was lost, but the small main street with its defunct traffic light popped up in the wood. A few shops barely justified it being called a town before. Now, it was tired and ghostly. It would be like any other small hub for farming neighbors, except for the giant chain grocery store just on the outskirts which had seen its demise before the world’s end. Audra imagined that the store had gone out of business just as quickly as it had popped up, leaving a parking lot that would never be filled and a building much too large for anyone to utilize. Until now.

  The curb against the road had been stacked with overturned grocery carts, creating a barrier of materialistic waste from the droves. Every defense against the zoms risked drawing the attention of marauders. This wall of coated metal carts was a shiny beacon for those looking to take. Audra refused to underestimate them and took caution as she scooted through the opening in the carts.

  A few feet onto the concrete parking lot were parked cars, lined bumper to bumper. The path to the green sedan in the center looked well-traveled. Audra found the driver’s door to be unlocked and most of the interior gutted. Audra slid through to the other side, where she opened the passenger door and slipped out. There, another line-up of cars, this time an opening between two of them. She looked over the row to find more vehicles, all positioned purposefully.

  Settled dust on hoods and roofs indicated the residents carefully walked around them for their ingress and egress. Maybe to shed doubt on the store’s occupancy, or perhaps to keep scent trails intact. It was a maze or a queue, really — a way to slow small groups of wanderers. It wouldn’t stop a large herd though. They’d just flood over the cars.

  Audra pulled a rag out of her bag. It wasn’t white but it would have to do. She didn’t want to be mistaken for the sick. Holding it over her head, she walked the circuitous path.

  When in Rome.

  As she finally reached the store front on the other end of the parking lot, she heard a throat clear above her. She looked up to see a long rifle pointed at her from the roof, steadied on a rusty security camera. 50/50 the rifle was loaded. 20/80 he could shoot and wasn’t just up there for show. Behind the rifle was a ruddy face with a bulbous nose.

  Audra waved her little raggedy flag once more.

  “I’m Audra. I’ve got mail for someone inside.”

  “Mail?” the man pulled his face away from the rifle, and used a hand to scratch the back of his head in thought.

  “Yeah, for Haleigh and Eliza Bottman,” she said as if postal work was common. “Do you have anyone here by those names?”

  His round shoulders shrugged. “Do you have any weapons on you?”

  “Just my blades.”

  He nodded his head towards the entrance.

  Her word was enough?

  Guess he didn’t think much of her. Audra had assumed defenses would be tight, considering their flashy entrance. Instead, Audra couldn’t find reason this place was unmolested. Seemed they let anyone in.

  Either side of the windowed front wall had been reinforced with freezer units filled with cash registers and other worthless machines. Audra walked through the entrance. On either side lay the previously sliding doors and boxes to support them for closing up for the night.

  A woman with short curly hair streaked with silver, and deep lines in her bronzed face approached Audra and without introduction, she brusquely patted her down. Her hands ran down Audra’s body. They paused at the knives, feeling size and features. Guess they wouldn’t take her word for it after all.

  “Where ya from?” she asked, folding her arms over an oversized army fatigue jacket.

  “Osprey Point. It’s a —”

  “We know Osprey Point.”

  “You do?” Audra was surprised.

  “Is it true you have a cure?” she asked curtly. Her flinty demeanor cracked as her brows furrowed into one. She stared down at Audra with one hip cocked, waiting.

  Audra found she couldn’t voice the words. She shook her head. They had no cure. The woman didn’t need to hear it out loud. Her face settled back into its grim features and stiff expression.

  Now, bad news was just news, but still its delivery wasn’t Audra’s forte. She hadn’t even fully entered the establishment, and she already wished to be done and gone — despite winter’s nightly bite.

  “Do you know where I can find Haleigh and Eliza Bottman?” Audra asked.

  The woman gave the same nod as the man outside had. “Black woman and a little girl? They’re in the produce section.”

  The answer confused her for a moment before she recovered and copied their nod. The dimness of winter came through the store’s skylights, illuminating grocery store aisle signs. Faded in color, they hung from the ceiling, outlasting the time when shelves upon shelves were stocked with cardboard- and plastic-wrapped food.

  Now those shelves had been arranged to create stalls for the living. Some of the families appeared to be in transit. Others, as if they’d been here for several years. Audra walked toward the back corner previously for produce. Some of the cubiclees had curtains. Others had not managed such privacy. But in each cubicle, the soft glow of lanterns unsuccessfully fought the bleary evening.

  A group of children giggled, danced, and skipped past her, ignoring the gloom of the weather. Audra wasn’t sure if Eliza was in the short-statured crowd, but they all appeared healthy and washed. The place did feel a bit like a sanctuary with its tall walls and ceilings, but Audra couldn’t help but consider it was only protected by a wall of shopping carts, a few cars, and a man on the roof. What would stop a group from coming in and robbing or killing them?

  In the produce section, the display coolers had all been removed, leaving dark scuffs and electrical outlets where they once stood. Audra tried her best to casually glance into stalls for a sign of Haleigh or her daughter. Toward the corner, she spotted a woman with dark hair pulled back by a kerchief. She was tall and slender. The woman, as if she felt eyes on her, turned. She wore long flowing slacks cinched tight around her waist, and a soft jersey tank underneath a moth-eaten sweater.

  “Haleigh Bottman?” Audra asked.

  Her brown doe eyes blinked as the skin around them wrinkled a bit.

  “Yes?” She wrung the scrap of cloth she was using to dust.

  Audra had spent most of her hike rehearsing ways to tell this woman her ‘long-dead’ ex-husband had written them a note. None of her approaches seemed great. She’d go for simple.

  “I’m Audra. I’m carrying a letter from Gordon for you.”

  “Ta— what?” she stuttered. Her arms came out in surprise, hitting the LED lantern.

  Despite her ill-fitting clothes and some security vulnerabilities, Haleigh had a good setup here. And if Gordon’s reconnaissance was correct, she also had a husband. It crossed Audra’s mind that Haleigh might not want to read the letter.

  In the swinging light, the woman found her way to her cot and sat down.

  “Is he—?” she whispered.

  Audra didn’t
know how to answer that. He hadn’t written it years ago if that’s what she meant.

  “It’s complicated. I’m sure his letter explains,” she said as she reached for the letter from her coat.

  Audra was surprised by her body’s own frailness underneath the layers. Winter was making everything bare. No matter.

  Haleigh’s intentions for the letter were made clear as she snatched it from Audra’s hands. Audra gave it freely.

  Haleigh’s eyes swept the handwriting before she clasped it to her chest. Large orb tears rolled down her cheek. She whimpered again before she pulled the letter back into her sights. Audra wondered if she could even read it with the glassy tears distorting her vision.

  Audra felt a rare amount of social awkwardness as she waited for Haleigh. She looked from side to side of the aisle, but there really wasn’t any place to go. She settled on sitting against the edge of their stall wall, her back toward Haleigh. Audra refused to see the fall of her face as she reached the letter’s conclusion. Audra would never have written a letter like this. Why give them possibility just to rip it away again?

  A tall, gangly girl whipped around the corner with a giant smile overtaking her face. Her hair flew behind her, the coils bouncing to a stop on her shoulders as she skidded to avoid Audra. The girl had some of Gordon’s features, although Audra couldn’t name them. Eliza’s dark brown eyes darted from Audra to her mother and back to Audra again, flashing with accusation. Audra had done something to make her mother cry.

  “Please, leave us alone,” she whispered in passing.

  Audra’s eyes followed the girl as she wrapped her mother in her small arms. The gray cot sagged under their combined weight. Even though Eliza was only eight, Audra imagined she had a good sense of how to read and comfort her mother. Audra understood the dynamic well; emotional stability of your family dictated your survival. At eight years old, Eliza was an expert.

  “I don’t think I understand,” Haleigh confessed. The wobble in her voice echoed in the cubicle.

  Audra stood up, peeling out of her pack and leaving it on the cracked tiled floor. Back in their alcove, Eliza had weaseled herself between the letter and her mother, as if to protect her from it. Eliza stared down at the words, although Audra wasn’t sure if she could read. Did they have schools in this place? From the giggles and shouts, it sounded as if they had enough children for it.

  “Earlier this year I went with some scientists and cleared out a laboratory, the one your husband worked at.”

  “Ex-husband. And ‘lived at’ would be more accurate.” Her comment more matter-of-fact than bitter.

  “Ex-husband,” Audra corrected herself. “He’d been bitten. We treated him with a replicated antidote we stole from Lysent Corp. He was healthy again and was looking for you. But, it turns out the cure we gave him wasn’t an enduring treatment. He’s going to turn back into a zo— sick.”

  “Is there anything you can do for him?” Her chin rested on her daughter’s head as she held her close.

  “We’re trying to figure out what went wrong so we can fix it… There’s a lot of unknowns. It might take some time. It might be impossible.”

  She nodded, unsurprised. Outside of Lysent, many people hadn’t heard more than rumors about a cure. And what sounded too good to be true, usually was.

  With the crux of her mission complete, Audra needed to tend to other necessities. “I’m sorry, it’s getting dark. Would it be OK if I slept on the floor of your… establishment… for the night?” she asked.

  “Oh yes, of course.” Haleigh rose immediately, letting her daughter fall to her feet. “And some food. Eliza, get the girl some food. Oh, I’m sorry — what’s your name?”

  “Audra.”

  “Thank you for doing this for us, Audra. You are kind to go out of your way in the winter to deliver a letter.”

  “Anything for Gordon. He’s saved my life more than once. I wish there was more I could do.”

  In fact, Audra wished there was anything she could do. When it came to beakers and protein markers, Audra was at a loss. She couldn’t even figure out why Satomi always reprimanded her for calling it an ‘antidote’.

  Eliza offered Audra some brown fruit leather. After thanking her, she couldn’t help but tear into it. She was so hungry. The sticky sweet stuck more to her teeth than landed in her stomach. Still, she was grateful. She worked pieces down with her tongue.

  “Thank you,” said Audra, feeling her lips stick to her jaw with each word. “I’ll sleep here tonight. That will give you a chance to write your response, if you’d like. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”

  “It will give us a chance to pack,” said Haleigh simply.

  Audra raised her eyebrows. To pack?

  “You will take us to see Gordon,” Haleigh explained, riffling through a box of supplies.

  Audra hadn’t read the letter, but she was pretty sure that’s not what it said. Gordon was clear. He didn’t want Haleigh and Eliza to watch him turn into a zombie.

  Next to the box sat a pack — large enough for a woman and a girl in times of transition. Audra wondered how many times they’d run. If they didn’t start with additional guards on the perimeter, it might come again soon.

  “Don’t you have ties here?” reasoned Audra, noting at the same time how small the cot in the cubicle was. Was Gordon incorrect on the fact she was remarried?

  “Kayle is dead,” she said as if Audra had known his name. Her eyes seemed to recede, lost in grief’s shadow. “Happened last week. On a run. I’ll have to take his place.”

  Take his place on the run?

  Haleigh’s voice became distant and hollow. “I don’t want to. What if something happens? What will happen to Eliza?”

  Audra didn’t have answers for Haleigh, except that her own volatile community wasn’t the place for a young orphan. It wasn’t really a place for anyone. Audra hadn’t given much thought to how much more difficult life would be with a child.

  There hadn’t been many to remind her.

  “I don’t remember my dad,” said Eliza, looking Audra in the eye, her mouth small. Audra could tell she was collecting information. Her mom’s thought on death, for one.

  “He remembers you, love. But he’s sick. You can’t go see him.” The first half for Eliza and the second half to benefit her mother.

  “We need to be there for him,” said Haleigh. “No one should do this alone.”

  She mindlessly moved things around, waffling in her packing. Audra felt restless in the stale air. She had only brought trouble to this small family.

  “We were alone,” Eliza said, pulling on her mother’s sleeve.

  “He’s not alone,” assured Audra. “We have an entire quarantine area,” she offered dumbly.

  Haleigh ignored Audra’s comment. Her long fingers danced in the girl’s hair as she spoke to her. “We had each other. That is never alone. And your father needs someone too.”

  To hell with that. There was no way Audra was removing them from the produce section. Gordon’s fate had haunted their dreams for years, but they’d never be able to discard the real sight of a cold decrepit shell and the shallow gray eyes. Audra’s dreams were testaments to that.

  Eliza’s eyes were bright and sharp.

  They would remain that way.

  “I cannot take you,” Audra said firmly. “Thank you for the food. I’ll come by for your letter in the morning.” Maybe hinting that she’d leave would settle the matter.

  “No, please, stay,” resigned Haleigh. Eliza’s eyes slanted at the request, but she said nothing as her mother turned her to the small pail in the corner to wash up.

  Audra appreciated the conversation’s end. Her legs felt like they might collapse under her weight. She pulled from her feet the pieces of leather which once resembled shoes, before she slumped against a shelving wall. The air didn’t feel quite as stale from her resting position. In fact, the warmth and humidity of a community enclosed in walls was almost comforting. Audra d
idn’t have to worry about more pleas, she was fast asleep before they could fall on her ears.

  CHAPTER TWO

  COMPLICATIONS

  Satomi lay on her hay-filled mattress as she finished counting the imagined rows of tiles on the ceiling of her dark room. She stared at them so often, she felt she could see them even when the sunlight faded and her lantern burned out. The edges glowed, burned into her sight. Maybe she could see them.

  Her long black hair created a nest for her head on a pillow filled with folded worn clothes. She barely turned her heart-shaped face, fearing movement would chase away any sleep to be had. The window now in view, her almond-shaped eyes found nothing but soft moonlight filtering in.

  Satomi surrendered to another night of sleeplessness by finally moving from her static pose. Her arm silently swept the blanket beside her.

  No one.

  Ryder had left for the quarantine location, leaving Satomi to work on the antiviral. Satomi didn’t want to be apart from Ryder. More so, she didn’t want Ryder in a place where its inhabitants could become driven to eat their roommates. The virus was dangerous again — not containable. And Ryder wasn’t as scared as she should be.

  Satomi felt Ryder’s missing panic rising within herself. Her separation from her partner at least allowed her to sink into distress without an audience. A couple months had passed since she was penned in a police car like an animal, but still the fear and restlessness remained like a massive entity attached to her being. It left no room for others, isolating Satomi from friends. It loomed over her and threatened to expand so much that there’d be no room left for Satomi either.

  Her skin crept and crawled underneath the blanket until she was convinced something was in the bed with her. Throwing off the blanket, she sat straight up. Sweat beaded along her hairline and fell in droplets off her legs. Breathing in the room’s stagnant, musty air gave no relief.

  She jumped out of bed, grabbed her jacket, and raced to the door. There, she came to an abrupt stop, willing herself to move with quiet composure. No need to wake anyone. Nothing was actually wrong, right?