“What are we going to do?” Ti asked his brother.
“Keep moving at first light. Did you see—?”
“Yeah, thousands of them, moving across the hills,” Joseph interjected as he and Raoul came up to speak with the brothers.
The men all nodded to one another in acknowledgment before Yen turned to Joseph.
“What did you see in Roosevelt?”
The man sighed deeply before responding.
“I made it over by the high school before I really got an idea of what was happening. When I came around the line of buses outside the school, those things were running wild, attacking people and eating them. I only got a few moments to absorb what was happening before a group of people came running up to me. They were on foot and had a shitload of those things chasing behind. I tried to help, but only one person would fit on the horse with me. I was trying to help a woman with her child up into the saddle when the rest of them tried to pull me off the horse. They were scared and desperate. I was fighting with them when those things caught up. One of the things bit me on my calf, and my horse got bit in three places by them.”
“Was anyone trying to fight the things?” Ti asked.
“I heard a lot of guns from all around, but I couldn’t see anyone shooting. Like I said, I only got to watch for a few moments before I was fighting for my life.”
They listened intently to Joseph’s story, hoping it would shed some light on what was happening. Instead, they only got more frightened. It took Yen a long time to fall asleep that night. In his mind, every nocturnal movement by man or animal became one of the things coming to devour him. By the time he fell asleep, the moon was well past its apex. His dreams that night were haunted and his sleep was restless.
The next morning, they were all awake as soon as the sun crept to the horizon, the temperature rising by over thirty degrees in a matter of minutes. Some of the older people, having been up for hours, had coffee and a meager breakfast of rice and beans started. Yen awoke and sat listlessly for a few minutes while he gathered his nerve for the day. Finally, he set about arranging his gear so that he didn’t have to hold the bundle, lashing most of it to Petal before he moved off to see to the rest of the people.
Having opened his mouth, and laying their course out, he was now responsible for his people’s well-being. He wanted to offer comfort and some kind words of encouragement before pushing them through another hard day of travel. As he moved among them, a speck of darkness to the west of them caught his eye. He tried desperately to force his eyes to focus on the shifting hill sides before Raoul moved next to him, pushing a pair of binoculars into his hands. Yen put them to his eyes and blinked until he could focus through the lenses, finally settling them on the mass of darkness.
He had no idea how to estimate how many of the monsters moved towards them from the west. Many thousands of them crossed the canal, approaching them from roughly a half-mile distant, just on the other side of Route 88. They were not running, however; through the binoculars they seemed to be moving at a slow walk. He jerked his head away from the horrid sight, thrusting the binoculars back to Raoul.
“Up! Everybody get up, now!” he screamed at those around him. “Get up and get your shit ready, we are leaving. Now!”
The fires were stoked and kettles were on for the morning coffee or tea. Tired eyes took him in from all around, but only a few moved to pack gear.
“That darkness coming across the canal,” Yen pointed back west. “They have walked through the night and are almost upon us. Move!”
Without waiting another moment’s pause, he ran back to his brother and their horses. They mounted up hurriedly and started moving eastward. The rag-tag group of pedestrians followed behind as soon as they could break camp. If the pace they set the evening before was slow, the pace of the tired, elderly people today was entirely unacceptable to Yen. He galloped back three times in the first hour to spur them to greater speed. The dirt trail they followed was a little-maintained access road, though it was more traveled than the trail from the day before. Clouds of dust billowed up from the horses’ hooves leaving the people behind hacking and breathing in their traildust. Yen and Ti knew these trails well from a childhood of exploring, and by the time mid-day arrived, the trail swung north and they moved the procession off-road in to continue eastward.
“They are catching up?” Joseph asked, trotting up to ride alongside him.
“Yes,” Yen said flatly, referring to the thousands of slow moving things pouring over the hills and through the canyons behind them. “Tonight, they will catch us. Maybe earlier if we get any more injuries.”
*
“So that is when you left them?” Tar asked Yen, feeling like he already knew the answer.
Tar lit a cigarette and took in the visage of the man seated across from him, taking a measure of him. It was his first interview since he and Linda had agreed upon the need for them, and he was very wary of the group of nearly twenty Ute that had shown up at the western barricade a week earlier.
*
Nick scanned the horizon for signs of life or help while Christine relieved herself in the pickle bucket behind the air-conditioning unit. Nothing moved as far as he could see, but the shifting and shuffling of the dead below and the snow falling lazily through the steel gray sky. After Nick had taken his turn on the pickle bucket, the two stood for as long as they were able to stand the cold atop the snow-covered roof. They looked and listened in silence, their arms wrapped around one another. Finally, Nick’s bare chest had enough of the frigid morning and the two retreated back down to their kitchen shelter. He made the first of his rounds, checking the door jambs for cracks and peering underneath to see how many of the dead still lingered outside. Once he was satisfied that they were safe for the moment, he sat down next to Chris.
They had briefly discussed their intimacy, but it was a short, awkward conversation; neither one was comfortable enough to say the words associated with the act. Chris had made it very clear, in no uncertain terms, that he needed to be responsible. She was terrified at the prospect of being pregnant, period, nevermind the prospect of being pregnant while trapped in an isolated kitchen with no doctors or even an adult to help. Once Chris had, again, imparted the urgency of his withdrawal, they whiled their day away as they had the past few: sex and cuddling, followed by sex and food.
The next morning, Chris woke with a start, with the fading recognition of a loud sound drifting away from her consciousness. She couldn’t be sure if it was in a dream or if she really heard it. Nick reached up and grabbed her by her arm, pulling her, and the pile of aprons she dragged off of him back down, but she shrugged his hand away. His eyes snapped open, seeing the look on her face.
“What is it, Chris? Are they getting in?” Nick sat up suddenly, fully alert.
“I’m not sure, I think I heard something.”
Nick jumped up, throwing an apron on, mainly out of modesty, to cover his morning wood, then scrambled to the doors, looking underneath first then pressing his ear to them, listening carefully.
After he moved from the second door, shaking his head, she spoke again.
“Outside, I’m sure I heard something,” she said.
Nick leapt atop the stove and was up the shaft to the roof in a flash. As Chris climbed up, she could see him on the rooftop above, waving his hands wildly. When she pulled herself clear of the shaft, she could see a vehicle driving up school drive, towards them. She was so excited that she started peeing, and ran for the cover of the air conditioning unit.
“This is it, Chris, we’re saved!” Nick shouted gleefully.
*
Tim aimed and fired the rifle, taking the top of the thing’s skull off as it roared towards them, running alongside the delivery truck. There was a flurry of movement from the backseat as Jen and Bjorn scrambled to get seated in the cramped Jeep. Many more roars echoed out from behind them, sounding clearly through the open moon roof. The loading door on the side of the supermarket
burst open, blasting a palette jack out of the way as Tim slammed the SUV it into gear and mashed his foot down on the gas pedal, pressing it to the floor. Three of the fast undead hit the side of the Jeep at speed, with enough force to send the rear tires skidding into a sideways spin as all four wheels struggled to find traction. The driver’s side wheel caught grip as one of the undead slipped underneath it, blowing snow and blood out and propelling the Jeep up the street. The first few moments of movement were gut-wrenchingly tense as the fast dead paced the vehicle, slamming and pounding on it, roaring hungrily and gnashing their teeth, all, while Tim fought to keep control of the spinning wheels on the snowy side street.
“Are they off?” Tim finally asked a quarter-mile up the road, his voice on the verge of hysteria. “Are they off?”
“Yeah, they are running after us, but they aren’t hanging on,” Bjorn called up to him.
He had his head hanging out the window, but even if he could see around the tightly packed cartons of food, there was no way he could see through the numerous layers of cellophane covering the shattered rear window. The heavy vehicle gained momentum, tearing ribbons through the virgin snow as it rumbled up a hill and through an intersection. The fear-induced speed was bordering on reckless as Tim drove, riding on the very edge of what the four-wheel-drive Jeep was capable of in the terrible road conditions, finally leaving the roaring monsters fading into the distance.
“How are we on gas?” Will asked, seeing the tell-tale sight of the highway curving off in the distance ahead and above.
“Fuck! Quarter tank,” Tim said, slamming his hand on the wheel. “I don’t know if I can handle another gas station just yet.”
A few hundred feet more and they could see that they had reached the end of the road. Tim’s jaw dropped in disbelief as the road looped back on itself in front of a building labeled Hancock High School. He checked the rear-view mirror nervously and let off the accelerator, coasting around the side of the building just to be sure the road in fact ended there, only to see a curious sight atop the roof. A shirtless boy wearing nothing but a cooking apron and skin tight pink sweatpants appeared to be doing jumping-jacks on the rooftop.
“What the…” Will said quietly.
At ground level, below the rooftop the boy stood atop, was a large mob of undead encircling the building. Tim flashed the brights on the Jeep to let the kid know he saw him. Another shape appeared on the roof, a young girl. They could faintly hear the girl screaming for help.
“I know better than to ask if, so I’m only going to ask how we are going to help them?” Will said, looking at Jen.
“I don’t know about that,” Tim stated, unconvinced that they should risk anything.
“Tim,” Laura stated flatly, the shocked, disgusted look on her face told him everything he needed to know about what she thought of his hesitation.
In that look, he could see that there was no argument to be made. Considering the fate the kids faced otherwise, he was instantly ashamed that his first instinct was to abandon them. Laura had always helped elevate him to a better person, usually without knowing that she was even doing it. Tim considered for another moment before speaking.
“How many people…living people, have we seen in the past week?” Tim asked rhetorically. “We are helping them.”
“The roof is only about ten…maybe twelve feet up. Can they jump down to the top of the Jeep?” Laura asked.
“The roof is slick with snow. They’d most likely hit it too hard and slide into the reaching arms of those things. I think we are going to have to try and lead the undead away and come back for them,” Tim said. Seeing Bjorn nod, he added, “Can you tell them we will be back?”
Bjorn popped his head out of the moon roof.
“We are going to try and clear out the undead, we’ll be right back!” he yelled before sliding back down into his seat.
*
“No,” Yen responded, looking incredulous across the dining room table at Tar. He was shocked at the bluntness of the accusatory question.
“They were my responsibility. Joseph, Ti, Raoul, and I spent the remainder of the day’s march trying to find a defensible canyon.”
Tar wasn’t yet sure if he believed the young man or not, but he certainly had no reason to call him a liar. Yen had been nothing but forthright and helpful. He had accepted the terms of living outside Donner without question and had gladly taken total responsibility for feeding his people, the seventeen he had rolled in with a week prior. He earned food, the agreed-upon way when it was still an option, and had taken to hunting and scrounging food without complaint when it was no longer an option.
The arrangement, “ears for food” Tar had called it, had helped keep the area around Donner clear and relatively safe, as well as allowed the newcomers a sense of purpose. It provided them with the ability to feed themselves, no matter how meager the rations were, for all of three weeks. It was a great plan, until the winter set in fully and the people of Donner had tightened their belts.
Seeing no more conversation or questions forthcoming from the man, Yen continued his tale.
*
It was just before sunset when Yen spotted a canyon ahead to the north. It wasn’t perfect, but as the sun dipped toward the horizon behind them, he knew it would most likely be their last chance before they found themselves stumbling around in the dark. The shallow canyon had walls, although not sheer, they were greater than ten feet in height. They were high enough that he doubted any of the afflicted could scale, at least not easily. The canyon also had a back wall, forming a box canyon. He knew from both hunting as well as tribal lore that this type of canyon was the best kind to lure an enemy. He would have preferred higher walls and a narrower entrance, but he hoped it would suit their needs.
“Esteban, I need you to ride back and see how much time we have. Don’t get too close and take no chances. Try not to let them see you.”
Esteban nodded and swung his mare around before galloping off to the west. Yen spent the better part of twenty minutes putting his hastily improvised plan to effect. First, they helped the infirm and elderly get atop the canyon wall, a dozen feet or more above the valley floor. Yen was in the process of instructing them that they must all lie down and remain quiet until the afflicted pass or the morning came when Esteban returned. He reported that the afflicted would be on them in a matter of twenty minutes. He confirmed that they were moving slow, not like the afflicted that initially attacked the reservation, but they were only, roughly, two miles away. Hearing the grim news, Yen and the seven other horsemen moved their horses around the far side of the canyon entrance to tie their horses up. They moved back on foot to the entrance of the canyon where they waited for the horde to appear around the final bend.
Yen planned to lead the afflicted into the box canyon and either escape by climbing the wall at the opposite end, or if that proved impossible, they would make their last stand. As six of the seven stood, discussing their chances and possibilities, the seventh rider, Javier, rode his horse back around. They all referred to Javier as an “Apple.” He was interning at the Bureau of Indian Affairs and only home from Washington, D.C. to visit his grandfather after surgery. Before they could question him, he spurred his horse away to the west, without a word. He was headed back towards the afflicted. The six remaining horsemen stood confused as to what was happening.
Javier’s purpose in riding off was made clear a few minutes later when the sound of gunshots came echoing back to them through the numerous valleys and ridgelines in this area of the high desert. They waited a tense couple minutes before Yen retrieved his horse and trotted around the bend where the approaching mob should have made their approach from. He could see the huge mass of afflicted moving northwards, away from them. They all took a moment to give silent thanks to the man, who they derided as something lesser, who had likely saved all of their lives.
“Did he just—?” he called up to Chip, his neighbor who watched from the plateau above.
Chip nodded soberly back at him. Yen vowed to name his first born son after Javier, if he lived long enough to settle down and have one.
“Well, come down from there and let’s take advantage and put some miles behind before we rest, night time or not,” Yen called back.
Once the rest of the procession had come down from atop the canyon walls and were gathered below, they moved off again, ever eastward. As they trudged along in the gathering gloom of nightfall, Yen pondered whether or not Walker would meet up with them in Jensen. He hoped fervently for it to happen; the burden of responsibility was a heavy mantle to bear and he would be glad to hand it off. The nagging thought that the elder might not have escaped from the fast ones, even on horseback, nagged at him. Once they reached the Green River, they stopped for the night. The source of fresh water would make for a much more comfortable rest and Yen figured, if they were set upon, they could always escape into the swift current.
The group clustered closely on the small patch of land that was accessible to the river. When the morning arrived, without incident, they bathed in an eddy pool, ate and drank, and enjoyed lying about in the sun. For a few peaceful moments in time, it was as if they were on a nature retreat rather than fleeing for their lives from hundreds of monsters. Their peace was shattered, the moment of bliss destroyed, when the first body drifted past them, face down in the river. It was the first of many dead, some still moving, that thrashed about in the river. The afflicted floated past in great numbers, clawing and trying to come ashore at the sight of the people.
Harvest of Ruin (Book 2): Dead of Winter Page 15
