Find Me Series (Book 3): Finding Hope

by Trish Marie Dawson

  I leaned toward Drake. “Talk later?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Get some rest.” To Keel, he warned, “Don’t kill us.” Then he pulled his hood over his head, and wrapped an arm around my upper body, inviting me to use his chest as a pillow. For a moment, I tensed, but it was a different feeling from the pressure of his hand on my leg. It was surprising how quickly the position became comfortable. And quickly, as if all the energy had been sapped from my body, I let myself drift asleep.

  When we woke up, it was from the uneven ground of the Ark’s long entrance road.

  “We made it,” I said with relief while rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

  “Did you doubt that we would?” Keel grumbled.

  “I did,” Drake said, allowing the sarcasm in his voice to coat each word.

  Keel looked away from the road long enough to glance at us huddled together on the passenger side of the truck. “Happy to disappoint,” he said.

  We drove the last few minutes in sleepy silence, listening to the truck’s tires move over the ground, dipping into the grooves and teetering over rocks, spitting gravel out like the wheels hated the taste. We passed the Tank first, and I was surprised to see a dim light on inside one of the small library windows that peeked out at us just a few inches above the ground.

  “Did you see that?” I asked Drake.

  “See what?”

  Keel answered for me. “Seems we might have new arrivals. What joy.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  O ur observation on the way in was accurate. There were new people at the Ark. But they were stuck in the Tank for the next month, so the fact that they existed was the only information we were given. And it wasn’t offered; I had to ask Ryder about it more than once before he caved. He said that there were half a dozen people in the group, and the doctor had been summoned when the strangers first arrived, but he wouldn’t tell me why. I could have stripped out of my dusty clothes and stood before him naked, and it wouldn’t have broken his resolve to be a law-abiding Ark citizen and disclose more private information. Ryder was annoyingly loyal like that.

  After our quick conversation with Ryder, we went our separate ways. I found myself alone in the courtyard facing due west, into the direction where the underground bunker just barely rose above the ground. I was curious about the newcomers, more curious than I thought I’d be when someone new came around. But I didn’t know why. It was inevitable for the scouts to stumble upon a stranger or two. A group of survivors, even. And with Joe out flying for weeks, searching the cities, he brought back a straggler here and there. We saw him less and less. Rumor had it, that he’d taken up living in the small apartment above the airport hangar. Regardless of where the newcomers came from or how they got to the Ark, Ryder said they didn’t all stay, with no mention of where they went. I was too exhausted to analyze statistics, having been drained during our eventful yet unproductive day out, so eventually my gaze moved from the sandy horizon up to the pine trees that surrounded our hovel in the mountains.

  Keel was pissed about returning empty-handed. Drake was pissed as well, probably for no better reason than his shorts were too tight in the crotch. And I…I was tired. I was so tired that I could have dropped to the ground where I stood and slept for a week. When a wicked blast of cold winter air hit me, it was decided: hot shower, then warm bed.

  * * *

  Morning came too soon. When Drake nudged me awake, Ryder was standing nervously at the door, a paper in his hand, an expression of apology on his clean-shaven face.

  “What?” I mumbled.

  Drake straightened up and pulled a pale grey sweater over his head. “Good morning to you, too.”

  “What time is it?” I rolled onto my side and struggled to focus on Ryder. The smell of Drake’s toothpaste filled the small space between our bunks.

  “Um,” Ryder said with a swallow, “I hoped to chat with you last night, but you came straight to your quarters.”

  He wasn’t leaving until he gave me whatever he held in his hand, so I swung my feet over the bed and stormed across the room, snatching it from his hand.

  “What’s this?”

  Drake was pulling his boots on when Kris came around the corner, nudged her way past Ryder, and vanished into the bathroom. I stared at the door, my mouth hung slightly open, wondering where she’d been off to so early. Or so late.

  “Today’s list,” Ryder answered. His curious gaze moved from the bathroom door to me and back again. “Does she always get in this late?”

  “Technically, she’s getting in early,” Drake corrected. He stood, pulled a beanie onto his messy burnt caramel-colored head and slipped into a thick flannel shirt. When he walked by, I got a whiff of the previous days’ excursion from his shoes - dust and more dust.

  He pushed himself out into the hall and Ryder cleared his throat, ready to retreat to safety. “See you topside in five?” he asked.

  “Can’t I have a coffee first?”

  With a wink, he pointed directly above us. “There’s a thermos upstairs waiting for you.”

  Lovely. He was taking the fact that we’d volunteered for scouting seriously. If you returned empty-handed, you kept going out daily till you came back with a sufficient loot. Weekly runs were required to keep certain supplies in check - like fuel, batteries, weapons, and even the little things that we went through quickly - like coffee, teas, sugar, soaps.

  I was dressed in two minutes, wearing a pair of tight jeans that were an inch past my heel, a sports bra and a sweater with extra long sleeves. I knew I’d have to update my wardrobe soon. Being back in an environment with regularly scheduled meals was starting to flesh out my bones. Not that I was complaining, because being well-fed was something to be thankful for. But as I pulled my messy hair back into an equally messy bun, and searched around for my thick scarf and a clean pair of socks, I had to hold my breath when I bent over.

  My hope, as I jumped into my boots, ignoring the loose laces, was that somewhere along our drive there would be a clothing store where I could find a pair of jeans I hadn’t stolen from my teenage roommate.

  “Kris? I’m heading out. Will be back later today, okay?” I said through the bathroom door she’d hid herself behind.

  “Sure!” The water faucet went on, then off, and back on again.

  Before I walked away, I chewed on my lower lip, wondering how she was doing. If she was okay. If I needed to pull her aside for ‘the talk’ or not. “Can you and I have some quiet time later?” I asked the door.

  Though she hesitated with her answer, and apparently dropped her brush onto the floor, she opened the door a crack and smiled at me. “Sounds good. Oh, it’s cold outside. Take a coat.” Then the door closed again.

  I grabbed one of Drake’s jackets, since it was closer, and slung it over a shoulder. “Hey! I’m leaving Zoey, so keep an eye on her, okay?”

  “Yep!”

  To the dog, I said, “You be good. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  She offered up a solitary huff, then realized she wasn’t going topside with me, and settled happily onto my bunk, taking extra care circling her spot before she collapsed with her head burrowed into my pillow. No doubt her black hairs would be all over my bedding when I returned. It was getting easier for her to see me go, something I wasn’t exactly pleased with.

  The air was indeed cold, the temperature having dropped dramatically from the day before. Drake’s jacket was thickly lined, but still I pulled my hands into the cuffs and wrapped my arms around my midsection while circling the main building to the back, to the small dirt road that led around the property.

  Drake stood off to the side, a thermos in his hand, and a pastry of some sort in the other. When he saw me, he gave me a once over and a nod, then handed the food over.

  “What is it?” I asked, sniffing the food.

  He shrugged. “Some sort of fiber muffin thing that Fern made. It was all I could grab from upstairs on short notice.”

  I rotated it in my
hand and gave it a sniff. “This is a muffin?”

  With another shrug, he kicked at the dirt around his feet. “Coffee’s strong.”

  “Well, there’s that,” I said, relieved. “Thanks for bringing this out.”

  We waited another minute for Keel to show up with his truck. Drake kicked at the ground in silence while I struggled to get down a few bites of the muffin. After each swallow, I chased down a gulp of hot coffee. By the time the muffin was gone, so was one quarter of the thermos, and my taste buds.

  “So, are you going to talk to me about yesterday at all?” I asked his back. He stiffened, then turned around to look at me.

  “Exactly what part of yesterday do you want to talk about?”

  I felt my entire face frown at him. My eyes narrowed, my brows pressed together, the side of my mouth pushed back into my cheek, and my lips turned into thin slits. “Well, let’s start with the part where you found me…how did you say it…blue?”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yeah, that.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Look, Riley. I don’t know what happened. That’s why it freaked me out.”

  “I saw someone.”

  Drake blinked at me, took a step closer and held my gaze with his stern one. “What do you mean, you saw someone?”

  “A girl. Her father murdered her in that building. The one you found me in. She wanted to show me what happened to her. I think she did…I think she either took me with her to the past or gave me her memories or…something.”

  One of his hands came flying out of his pocket and he made a sharp ‘shushing’ sound at me. “Be careful, Riley! You don’t want these people overhearing you talking about shit like that. I don’t think they’d take it well. Hell, I can barely handle it!”

  “Fine. Pretend it didn’t happen. It doesn’t make sense to me, anyway.”

  We stood with our backs to each other until Keel pulled the truck up the road a few minutes later. And we didn’t speak until the Ark was miles behind us.

  * * *

  The three of us had to squeeze into Keel’s truck again. Which was less exciting than our ride the day before. He talked even less, Drake complained more, and I kept my eyes straight ahead, scanning the road for the Dodge or any other vehicles that weren’t there the day before. My coffee was gone within the first half hour on the road, which left me nothing to fiddle with for the next two hours. Keel referred to his map, a wrinkled and folded paper with black x’s and red lines and green circles that went through it in every direction. Based on his few checks of the map, we were headed south again, but to the east.

  For miles I followed the signs as we drove in a forced silence, noting we were going south, toward Flagstaff. We never saw any trace of the van or its occupants, which was a comfort, but not knowing which direction they went to, or which exit they took, nagged at me. Sticking to the outside of the city, Keel drove us in and out of neighborhoods until I was hopelessly lost, finally pulling to a stop inside an open-gated community. The houses were large second story structures, most with empty and unfinished driveways. The air was thick with unsettled dirt, as if a monster storm was on its way and the earth was preparing to rise up and greet it.

  “This will take forever.” Drake said, opening his door and sliding out of the truck with a doubtful look on his face. He rubbed at his lower jaw and then ran a hand through his hair again. The gross humidity in the air was fading, leaving it just cool enough for me to wish I’d worn layers. It was late morning but the weather had darkened the skies so much that my internal clock was screwed up. Had Drake not been wearing a watch, we would have been clueless to the time of day.

  Keel jumped from the truck and lifted two crowbars from the bed, handing one to me as I shut the passenger door with a dull bang. “For the stubborn doors,” he said. “Load the truck with anything on your list and be back here before dark, or you’re on your own.” Then he left us.

  “I think he killed him,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Who?”

  Not realizing Drake had moved up behind me, I twitched. With a nervous shrug, I gestured at Keel’s quickly retreating back. “The other scout. I bet he killed him.”

  “Yeah, with that ugly face of his,” Drake said, lifting the crowbar from my hand and propping it on his shoulder. “Seriously though. We should get our own ride back. Dude creeps me out.”

  It wasn’t a request for my permission, so I made no attempt to comment. Drake turned away from the direction Keel had gone in, which was full of cookie-cutter houses all appearing the same, and faced the south of the complex, where every other house stood only with its bones – the wooden beams of its skeleton – while the rest seemed otherwise previously occupied, or at the very least, finished with construction.

  “This is stupid. What are we looking for, hammers? If so, I can fill up our quota on the first house.” Drake kicked at the dirt and I watched as it clouded around his foot and settled back to the ground.

  With a shrug, I handed him the list. “No hammers, sorry.”

  “I thought you said this trip would be worth it. Where’s my damn beer, Riley?” Drake used one hand to push me sideways and I nearly lost my balance on the uneven ground and fell over.

  “Patience! Were you not paying attention to the route at all? There was a little market a few miles back. We can stop there on the way back.”

  He balked at me. “You expect me to walk through a dead construction site for the entire day…sober?”

  “Yes. You’ve been sober every day for weeks…what’s one more day going to hurt?” I snatched the list back and turned toward the first finished house. Before we reached the door, we could see through the windows that the interior still showed unpainted drywall. The floors were bare and unfinished. There would be no point to search the premises unless we wanted to collect a bunch of rusty nails.

  “Next,” I sighed.

  It took an hour and two dozen more houses later to find one that a family had appeared to move into. And apparently died inside, as well. We stood at the front door, which had been unlocked, and waved the smell of old decay away from our faces for five minutes before bothering to enter.

  “Well…” Drake said with a little cough, pulling his shirt up over his nose so only his eyes were visible, “…the stench isn’t going away any time soon, might as well get this over with.”

  We each came with a canvas tote and I swung mine out in front of me, pulling the flap over so I could easily drop things inside it as quickly as possible. “Five minutes,” I said. It was the max I could spend inside without throwing up. No matter how many times I’d been close enough to a rotting body to smell it, the shock it had on my senses never lessened. With my palm pressed against my abdomen, I begged my insides to calm down and stay put.

  Drake led the way, and I followed him quietly until we reached the far side of the living area where the room offered up two directions: the stairs that led to the second story, and the kitchen.

  “I’ll take the stairs,” he mumbled.

  I shifted the bag again, and entered the remarkably clean kitchen, aside from months of collected dust, and immediately hurried across the wide room to the back door, which I flung open; I greedily sucked in fresh air. Whatever was in the refrigerator would have spoiled long ago, so there was no point in opening it and letting the trapped odors escape, so I started with the cupboards. The first three I opened were full of expensive looking dishes, glasses and serving ware. But the fourth was full of goodies. I tossed in the boxed food and canned goods until my bag was half full, then continued looking around the space for anything that might be on the list.

  I read it out loud to myself. “Batteries, vinegar – distilled, USB cords, guitar strings, shoelaces, nail clippers, food, bottled water…and dog food.”

  The only thing I could strike off was the food. I moved back into the living area and emptied each remote or clock on the wall of their batteries and dropped the lot into my bag. There was no way o
f knowing if they would be good for long, but batteries were batteries. Even after checking the small bathroom, I found nothing else on my list downstairs.

  “Drake!” I hollered up the steps. His footsteps crossed the room above me and moved down the hallway. He leaned around the corner with a sour expression on his face, his bag also protruding with items.

  “What?” he asked.

  “What’s made you pissy now?”

  “You. What do you want?” he grumbled.

  I glared up at him and rubbed at my nose. The strong smell of death was definitely coming from the second story. “I found food and batteries. Nothing else we need today. Can you look for clippers in the bathrooms, a USB cord and…” I paused to glance down at the note. “Uh, distilled vinegar, shoelaces and guitar strings.”

  His eyebrows wrinkled together and then he disappeared behind the wall again. A moment later two boots came flying down the stairs, bouncing with wild energy on each step.

  “Watch it!” I yelled up at him, dodging a second set of shoes – a plain canvas pair. Women’s size 8. A third pair came soaring down the staircase, missing my head by an inch. The men’s sneakers had been tied together and landed with a heavy thud against the wall just behind me.

  “Good enough?” he called from the hall, kicking at a piece of loose furniture. A table? A chair? I had no clue.

  Without answering, I bent down and began the tedious job of removing each shoe lace before wrapping them together and tucking them into my bag. As I was shoving the last set into my tote, Drake rounded the corner again and descended the stairs. He didn’t pause at the bottom where I stood, but stepped around me toward the front of the house. A few seconds later, while I was readjusting the strap on my shoulder, I heard him inhale and exhale loudly from the front porch.

  When I joined him, his bag was half-full, like mine. “Did you find anything else on the list?”

  “Yes, Mother. Damn.”