Taken Over

by Erica Stevens

  Even with all the destruction and obvious death, those damn bottles were still completely perfect. It was unnerving.

  Lloyd broke away, skirting around the chairs and broken tables as he stalked behind the bar. He studied the shelves for a moment before pulling a nearly full bottle of Crown Royal down. “What are you doing?” Bret hissed as Lloyd slipped it into his backpack.

  “We make it through this I’m going to have a celebratory drink.”

  I studied him for a long moment before shrugging absently. Sounded like a damn good plan to me. Lloyd opened the swinging kitchen door with the tip of his rifle, holding it ajar as he craned his head to see inside. He nodded to Bret to follow him before disappearing through the doors. Bret vanished swiftly after him.

  I turned my attention back to the quiet street. The dog had made its way toward us. Now that it was closer I could tell that it appeared to be some kind of lab, shepherd mix. Its coat was matted, its ears hung lopsidedly. It looked completely lost and lonely. I wanted to call it to us, wanted to pet it and offer it some comfort and love, but I was afraid that its attention to us might be noticed by something else. Something far more sinister.

  Unfortunately, the dog spotted us. Its head lifted, its limpid brown eyes focused upon me, one of its dangly ears rose as it lifted its nose. My heart thumped, I wanted the dog to come to us, and I desperately wanted it to leave. Please, I silently prayed, though I didn’t know if I was praying for it to stay or for it to go.

  And then, drawn by the potential of food, comfort, and companionship the animal began to slowly approach. Its head was low; its ears drooped as it approached cautiously. I didn’t want to think what the animal had endured that made it so shy and hesitant. I knelt as it crept slowly through the door, my hand stretched out as it moved nervously closer. It sniffed at me, but still did not touch me as it stopped a few feet away, its nose stretched forward.

  “Careful Bethany,” Jenna said softly.

  Its wet nose bumped against my hand, for a moment it looked slightly stunned, and then it was pressing closer to me. My hand dug through its fur, brushing over its collar. Its tags clinked softly as I wrapped my arms around its thin frame and hugged it to me. I could feel the sharp edge of its bones through its thick fur. My heart ached for the poor thing but it was one of the most wonderful things I had felt in a long time. In this small, emaciated creature I felt a kindred wounded and forsaken soul. I clung to it for a long moment, its scent was pungent but I did not pull away from the pitiful animal. I pulled away from the dog and tugged its tags toward me.

  The dog’s ears cocked as I whispered his name. “Barney.” Then his tongue licked over my face and he buried himself against me. For some strange reason tears welled up in my eyes as I buried my face in his neck. Barney had lost people that loved and cared for him also, he had been completely alone, until now.

  I pulled back from him as Lloyd and Bret emerged from the kitchen. Lloyd’s bright blue eyes narrowed on Barney and I, he frowned intently as he eyed the dog. Bret offered a half smile, but his eyes looked troubled as he glanced toward the doorway. “We found some stale bread, not the best but better than nothing.”

  I held out my hand for a piece of bread. Lloyd stared at me before eyeing Barney again. I thought he was going to protest, thought the soldier in him was going to come rearing back to life, but he didn’t offer any complaint. He simply broke off a piece of bread and handed it to me. I offered him a small smile as I took the hard bread and offered it to Barney. He sniffed it cautiously for a moment before taking it with surprising gentleness, considering his obvious lack of food, from my hand.

  “Take his collar off,” Lloyd said briskly. I nodded as I slipped the jingling collar from Barney’s thin neck. The dog’s soft brown eyes followed me as I dropped it on the counter. “We need to get moving if we’re going to make it through this town.”

  CHAPTER 5

  We slipped swiftly down the street, darting through buildings, hiding within the shadows. Lloyd and Bret searched another restaurant but came up with only more stale bread and frozen hamburger patties. After that crappy gathering, it was determined to just skip the restaurants that had been picked over already in an attempt to make it down the street faster.

  Lloyd took the lead; he maintained a conversation with gestures alone as we moved steadily forward. Barney stayed close by my side, his head raised, his ears perked as he listened for danger. It made no sense but I felt oddly safer with him next to me, there wasn’t much Barney could do, but I knew he would sense any danger long before we did.

  Lloyd stopped as he reached the end of the street. He held his hand to halt us as he poked his head around the corner of the last building. He nodded briskly toward us. I took a deep breath before plunging into the open behind Lloyd. It was only thirty feet until we hit the woods again, but it seemed more like thirty miles as we were exposed, open, and even more vulnerable than we had been throughout the whole trip down the street. My heart hammered, my lungs burned as I pushed my legs to their very limits of speed and endurance. I’d never run so fast in my life but I was afraid that it wasn’t going to be fast enough, that I was going to be spotted long before I reached the shelter of the woods.

  Lloyd plummeted into the woods, disappearing from sight as he dropped down an embankment. I followed swiftly behind him, not caring where he had disappeared to, what might be waiting for me. I only cared that I was no longer on the street. The drop was further than I had expected. The ground fell out from underneath me, my arms pin-wheeled as I fell a good eight feet through the air. Lloyd was already rolling out of my way and climbing swiftly to his feet.

  An involuntary grunt escaped me as I landed hard. My ankles ached but I was falling, rolling as I tumbled swiftly over. Lloyd grabbed hold of me, helping me to my feet as he pulled me out of the way in time for Jenna, and then Bret. Barney simply trotted down the side of the embankment, his tongue lolling as his eyes seemed to laugh at us.

  “Let’s go,” Lloyd ordered briskly.

  “How much further is it?” Jenna asked quietly.

  Lloyd pulled out the GPS as he began to jog slowly through the woods. He frowned as he raised it high, studying it carefully for a moment. I held my breath, hoping like hell the damn thing finally worked. Lloyd’s shoulders slumped with relief. “Two point eight miles. We can be there in about half an hour if we hurry.”

  I was exhausted but the possibility of finally reaching one of our destinations was far too tempting to slow me down. We moved swiftly through the woods, Barney stayed close by my side, his tongue lolling as he panted slightly. There was a bright step in the dog’s gait that hadn’t been there when he had been wandering the street. Apparently a simple piece of bread and a little affection were all that he needed to be happy again. I was heartened by his presence and took strength in his determination and suddenly joyful attitude.

  I turned my attention from Barney to find Lloyd watching me. “Hope he doesn’t bark,” Lloyd muttered.

  I shot him an angry look but didn’t respond. I hadn’t thought of that, but I wasn’t going to respond to Lloyd. Following the GPS we came across a small back road lined with trees and white picket fences. For a moment I felt as if we were on the edge of a stage, as if we were looking at the scenery from some play. It was so still, so calm and peaceful that it robbed me of my breath. Where many other roads had destruction littering them, this one did not.

  “Scary,” Bret muttered.

  I seconded that. Barney sat at my side as I crouched down, resting my fingertips on the ground. The scent of dirt and rotting leaves assaulted me. I inhaled deeply savoring in the raw scent of the earth. My earth. “That’s my aunt’s house,” Jenna breathed pointing at a cheery yellow house with soft blue shutters. The potted plants hanging from the porch beams were swaying gently in the soft September breeze. They were beginning to die from lack of water. The whole thing was so damn eerie that I wanted to turn and bolt back into the forest. This air of pristine perfection di
dn’t seem right. Not at all.

  I glanced at Barney, but he wasn’t nervous about the strange road. “The dog seems to thinks it’s ok,” Lloyd muttered.

  “Barney.”

  “What?”

  “His name is Barney,” I told him.

  Lloyd rolled his eyes as he turned his attention back to the road. “Barney thinks it’s ok.”

  We stayed perched by the side of the road studying the house for a moment longer. “Then let’s go,” Jenna said forcefully.

  “Wait.” Lloyd held out a hand, his eyes narrowed as he glanced first one way and then the other. “This whole thing…”

  “Is just wrong,” I finished for him.

  His eyes came slowly toward me. He nodded once, briskly. “It appears safe and we can’t stay here,” Bret said. “We either move now or we stay here until…”

  “Until we know it’s not safe,” Jenna retorted sharply.

  I rested my hand on her arm, looking to calm the simmering tension radiating from her. Her patience was obviously wearing thin and I didn’t blame her. “We’re going,” I assured her. “It may not feel right but it’s not going to get any calmer than this road. We have to go.”

  Lloyd nodded, but his eyes were distant, weary. I rose slowly, if he wasn’t going to go first, then I would. I took a deep breath, drawing on my courage as I prepared to plummet into the calm streets of what had the eerie appearance of Mayberry. I bolted forward before anyone could stop me, racing across the street with more speed than I would have possessed a month ago. I bounded up the porch steps, feeling the thump of the rifle against my back as I took them two at a time in leaping bounds. I didn’t hesitate at the door, didn’t even stop to think it might be locked (no one lived here anymore, why would they bother to lock it), as I grasped hold of the knob and flung it open.

  In my hectic pace I nearly fell into the house as I tripped and stumbled over the doorframe. I just barely managed to catch my balance before I slammed into the kitchen table with enough noise to raise the dead. “Graceful,” Lloyd commented as he swept into the kitchen behind me. He surveyed the room in sweeping motions with his rifle aimed and ready.

  That’s probably the way I should have entered the house, instead of my frantic pirouetting ballerina move that had left me with a bruised hip and an even more bruised ego. “Whatever,” I muttered, fighting against the urge to rub my throbbing hip.

  Bret and Jenna entered with the same reserve and caution that Lloyd had exhibited. Bret shook his head at me, his disapproval and censure obvious. Jenna didn’t look at me as she eagerly scanned the kitchen. She lowered the pistol she had been holding as she raced from the room. “Jenna wait!” Bret said sharply but she had already disappeared from view.

  “Mom! Dad! Aunt Lucy!” her soft cries became distant as she disappeared into the bowels of the house.

  Lloyd nodded to Bret. “Follow her. We’ll check out the lower floor. You going to actually get your gun ready?”

  I glared at him, but took his advice and pulled my rifle forward as Bret disappeared. I followed Lloyd swiftly through the house, sweeping swiftly through the rooms as we searched for anything out of place, but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. A soft thump issued from above. I tilted my head back, holding my breath as I stared expectantly at the ceiling. No shouts rang out; I could make out the sound of their soft footfalls as they moved across a room.

  “Did anything even happen on this street, or did they all take off? Did they somehow escape The Freezing?” I whispered.

  Lloyd did not look at me as he stroked the dying stalks of a spider plant between his fingers. The baby offshoots had already fallen off and dropped to the floor. There was a look of longing on his face that I didn’t understand but that left me breathless and aching for things lost. “I don’t know.”

  “None of this seems right. It’s like we’re trapped in an alternate universe, we’re the ones stuck on the side where there’s no one left. The other side is still moving, still alive and they either don’t remember that we even ever existed or they’re baffled by the sudden disappearance of so many.”

  “I had one of these as a child. I would have taken it to boot camp but they wouldn’t let me. I don’t know what became of it.” Or his family, I heard the unspoken words even though he didn’t say them. I understood the longing and sadness that aged his youthful face. Lloyd cocked one reddish eyebrow at me as he finally released the plant and turned toward me. “An alternate universe huh?”

  “Or something like that,” I managed to whisper, nearly broken by the sorrow in the solider.

  “It’s nothing like that,” he said gently. “Jenna is still moving; it only makes sense her aunt would be the same. There is no alternate universe here, only lucky people, and the highly unlucky.”

  “Which side do we fall on?” I inquired dryly.

  He grinned at me, but the smile did not reach his eyes. “I haven’t decided yet, graceful.” Though I tried hard not to, I couldn’t help but grin back at him. “This is a creepy road though.”

  “Whole damn town has been creepy so far.”

  “It has,” he agreed, idly turning his attention back to the plant.

  I left him to his memories. I needed a moment to gather my thoughts, and regain some of my courage. I could feel it waning in this strange land of seemingly utter calm and tranquility. I knew better than to think that things were just as they seemed. There was something going on in this damn town and I couldn’t help but think we’d just wandered straight into the spider’s web and that it was just waiting to spin us into a cocoon and drain us dry.

  I walked back into the kitchen. Barney was lying on the floor, his front paws crossed before him, and his head resting on them. He cocked one ear and opened one eye to watch as I walked slowly around the room. I opened cabinets, looking for food but looking more for a distraction from my thoughts and this world. They seemed to have been completely picked over. Someone had survived The Freezing, whether it was Jenna’s aunt, her parents, or other survivors I didn’t know, but the only thing left in the cabinet’s were a box of baking soda and a thing of vanilla.

  I sighed as I closed the cabinet full of cleaning supplies and turned to the fridge. My eyes widened, I felt my mouth drop as I spotted the note stuck to the fridge by a magnet. The magnet was of Jenna sitting on Santa’s lap. The picture was a good ten years old, but I had known her then, and the strawberry colored pigtails and bright smile were instantly recognizable. I spotted Jenna’s name as I tore the note from the fridge. I wanted to read it, wanted to know what it said, but it was not my note and I couldn’t bring myself to know about Jenna’s family before she did.

  I nearly ran from the room, my heart thumping in eager excitement as I rapidly searched Jenna out. I glanced into the room where I had left Lloyd, but he was standing by the window, his hands clasped behind him as he lifted his face to the sun. His eyes were closed; he had found some solace in the gentle rays warming him. There was something peaceful and almost joyous about him. I hesitated for a moment, taking comfort in the small moment of pleasure he seemed to have found.

  I tore my attention away, needing to find Jenna, and unwilling to interrupt Lloyd’s moment. I hurried up the stairs, trying to be quiet in my excited rush. I hit the top of the stairs, and turned the corner to find Bret standing in a doorway. His eyes were sad as they landed on me, his mouth was drawn tight. I froze, uncertain what to do, I held either joy or a major letdown within my grasp. I wished that I had read the note after all because judging by the look on Bret’s face, whatever was in that room, was not good.

  Bret frowned at me; his eyes darted down to my now fisted hand. He glanced back into the room before breaking away and coming to join me. “What is it?” he asked quietly.

  I looked behind him, but Jenna was nowhere to be seen. “I found a note with her name on it.”

  “What does it say?”

  I shook my head as I licked my lips nervously. “I don’t know. I didn’t read it,
it’s not my note. What’s going on?”

  “It’s her aunt, she’s frozen.”

  Disappointment and hurt for Jenna filled me, but there was also something else. Something that nagged at the back of my mind for a brief moment, something was wrong. I buried the niggling doubt beneath the returning hope that what I held was good news. There was always something wrong now. “She needs to see this.”

  Bret nodded as he turned away from me. He moved slowly back to the bedroom, looking hesitant as he stepped through the doorway and spoke softly with Jenna. Lloyd had crept up the stairs, only making a sound as he stepped off the last step and into the landing behind me. I lifted the note for him to see, but he didn’t ask any questions, and I didn’t offer any information as Jenna emerged from the room. She looked broken, drawn. Her eyes were red rimmed, her face streaked with the tears that had slipped down her pale cheeks.

  I held my breath as I handed the note out to her. It has to be good news, it has to be good news, I prayed silently. I twisted my hands eagerly before me hoping that the note held something that would help ease the broken look on her face. Jenna frowned at me but slipped the now crumpled paper from my grasp. She pulled it open, her eyes widening as she spotted her name, and the words.

  “It’s from my mom,” she breathed.

  I inhaled a shaky breath, fighting back the sudden rush of tears that sprang to my eyes. Hope tore through me, happiness and relief filled me as Jenna’s face lit with pure joy and her bright green eyes shone with tears of happiness this time. “They’re alive, they both are. Or at least they were a week ago. She says they waited a week for me, but there were other survivors moving through and they realized they had to move also. They are heading into Boston, in hopes that there will be more survivors and protection there. She’s not sure exactly where they will be. No matter what, as long as one of them is still alive, they will leave me a note either at my grandmother’s house, the science museum, Paul Revere’s house, or in a mailbox at a home on Beacon hill. She says they love me and miss me. There are tear marks on the paper.”