Lost in the Apocalypse

by Mortimer, L. C.

  In reality, they would probably kill her or capture her and rape her, but she had to try. She wouldn’t sit idly by and let these criminals take over her house. This was her place. She had worked her ass off to lead the life she did.

  Yes, her little garden was a bit weedy and pathetic. She’d spent more time penning her latest romance novel than she had weeding. Sometimes when she got caught up in characterization or development, she forgot to do the little things. Like garden.

  Still, Emily’s place was nice. It was home. It was her haven.

  She hopped out the door and frowned. The group had been talking, but they suddenly went silent. Five set of eyes turned and stared at her, unblinking. Emily heard a cricket chirp.

  She raised her gun and pointed it at the man who had kissed her.

  “Get. Out.” She held her hand steady, trying not to shake. She had never killed a person in cold blood before, but they didn’t have to know that. These were trespassers, and state law said she could shoot them. Granted, there wasn’t much of a government anymore and these folks probably didn’t know anything about local laws, but still.

  She had every right to get them off her land. They needed to leave and they needed to leave now.

  “Get off my land,” she repeated. This time her voice audibly wavered, and she felt a pang of disgust shoot through her. What was wrong with her? She had just killed her sister and her sister’s best friend and she actually felt bad for threatening this guy?

  The five people just stared at her. Finally, the big guy with the scar started laughing. His chuckle filled the quiet air and soon everyone was joining him.

  Everyone that is, but Emily.

  “Hey! I’m serious,” she said as harshly as she could. Why were they laughing? She could be a badass. They didn’t know. She had killed two would-be Infected and plenty of actual Infected and the last thing she needed was their crap. Not today. Not on her watch.

  “Sweetheart, you couldn’t kill him if your life depended on it,” the kid with the green hair said. He must have been 19, maybe 20. “You have a heart of gold and we all know it.”

  “Save yourself some trouble, doll,” the scarred man stepped forward and held out his hand. “Give me the gun and we’ll forget this whole thing happened. You can stay in your side of the house and we’ll all leave you alone.”

  “Fuck you,” Emily spat. She turned, positioning her body so she was aiming at Scar now. Unfortunately, that meant she was momentarily distracted and no longer paying attention to Neil or the woman. The woman took advantage of the opportunity and kicked her in the leg, which caused Emily to lose her balance. She tripped and Scar quickly took the gun from her and tossed it aside.

  “Are you ready to calm down?” He asked when Emily glared at him. She hadn’t been this pissed off since Stephanie Kline went out with the boy she liked in the 7th grade. Stephanie knew Emily had a huge crush on him, but dated him anyway. This was just as bad. Maybe worse. Definitely worse.

  Instead of answering, Emily frowned harder, wrinkling her forehead. She might not be able to fight off this group of assholes, but she could make their stay horribly unpleasant.

  “As I was saying,” Neil started speaking again and everyone turned away. He was obviously the leader of the group. Scar stopped staring at Emily and turned back to Neil. Or, as Emily would secretly refer to him, probably-looked-better-with-less-hair-gel. Seriously, who had time to gel their hair in the apocalypse? She hadn’t showered in weeks, much less found time to do her hair.

  Yet here she was, standing in front of a group of fucking models. It just figured that was her luck.

  “We need to figure out where we’re going to hole up. I give it an hour, maybe two, before this thing really hits us.”

  A few people murmured things, but Emily was trying to figure out what he was talking about.

  “What are you talking about?” She asked. She had never been good at being anything but blunt.

  “Haven’t you looked at the sky?” The other woman asked her. “Seriously, honey, take a look.”

  Emily glanced up. Green and yellow. Storm colors. She had been so distraught worrying about getting home that she hadn’t paid attention to the weather.

  “Do you have a storm cellar?” Neil asked, but she just shook her head. Zombies and now a tornado. She was really out of luck.

  “Hey princess,” Green Hair said, snapping his fingers in front of her face. She looked up, but before she could come up with a nasty retort, his face softened. “We need to find a place to seek shelter before the storm comes. I know your house is your beloved darling or some shit, but we need a real, legit place to stay. Do any of your neighbors have a basement?”

  They didn’t. None that she knew of, anyway.

  Billionaire Boy didn’t have a house on his property and though Emily had explored the forests extensively, she’d never noticed an abandoned storm shelter or anything like that. Old Man Peterson up the road had a crawl space, but she didn’t think that would actually do anyone any good.

  Then she remembered.

  “Um, yeah,” she said. “There’s a house about two miles that way,” she pointed in the opposite direction of town. South. It was off the highway, but only barely, and she wasn’t sure it would still be safe. If hitchhikers or vagrants had wanted to take a house after the apocalypse, it was very visible from the road, but it had a basement.

  “Basement?” The woman asked, gently prodding Emily for more information.

  “Yeah,” she gulped, realizing she was about to abandon her home with these weirdoes. She didn’t have much choice thanks to the storm, but the decision still hurt. “It’s got a full basement. Probably even still has some beer in it,” she looked to Scar and he nodded.

  “Grab what you need,” Neil said to the group. “We leave in five. Oh and princess,” Emily turned back, knowing he was unfortunately talking to her. “No more funny business. I’d hate to have to leave you behind.”

  She huffed and stalked back into the house, barely resisting the urge to slam the door. The rest of the group came in behind her and began stuffing things in their bags. She ignored them and walked to her room. She grabbed a clean duffel bag from the closet and placed it on the bed. In went a clean change of clothes, a notebook, a couple of pens, and a picture of her family. She didn’t need much.

  She had lost everything important to her.

  Emily carried her duffel bag outside and tossed it in the back of the truck. Then she went back inside and scrounged around the kitchen, looking for food.

  “We grabbed it all,” the female said to her. Then she smiled and said, “I’m Kari.” Emily took a minute to look at the woman. She wasn’t being mean. If anything, she seemed to be almost apologetic. It was a surprise coming from the stranger. After all, they were living in the apocalypse. Were people really kind anymore?

  The few survivors Emily had met on her journey had been incredibly hostile. No one wanted to help anyone else. Everyone knew there were few resources left, so you had to hoard what you could when you could get it.

  Even an introduction was unusual.

  “Emily,” she finally managed to say, and Kari smiled.

  “Nice to meet you,” Kari said. “Sorry about the introduction, though. Probably not the way you wanted to make new friends.”

  Emily just shrugged and headed back to the truck. She climbed into the bed where Scar and Green Hair were also sitting on their bags. She decided that even though this sucked, she might as well be nice. She’d already pissed them off. She didn’t need to be an unforgivable bitch.

  “I’m Emily,” she said to them.

  “Cody,” said Green Hair.

  “Robert,” said Scar. They all nodded at each other semi-politely. Robert gripped a rifle in his arms. After a minute, Kari joined them in the back of the truck.

  “Hey Butter,” she yelled, and the tall biker-looking guy came out of the cabin.

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t forget the booze,” sh
e winked. Butter rolled his eyes and went back inside, then came back with a bottle of vodka. What was left of it, anyway. It looked like someone had punished it pretty hard.

  Emily shot Kari a questioning glance, but Kari didn’t explain. Butter sat in the cab and Neil came out of the house, closed the front door, and came to the bed.

  Emily gave him brief, but accurate directions, and he nodded. He climbed in the front of the truck, started the engine, and then they were off. She tried not to stare at her cabin as it disappeared from view, but she couldn’t help herself.

  This had been her home.

  She hadn’t even been home for an hour and she was leaving again.

  Chapter 6

  The wind was whipping her hair around her face and by the time they reached the house, Emily was ready for the apocalypse to be over. She pushed her hair back again and again until she finally gave up and decided to get used to the taste of it in her mouth.

  Kari took pity on her and handed her a hair band.

  “Is this the place?” Neil asked. Everyone got out of the truck and looked at the house in front of them. Emily nodded.

  “I don’t know the new owner. I was only here once.” It was last year for a church barbeque. She had spent the day hanging out with families and couples. No one cared that she was single or that she was new. They just made her feel welcome.

  She had seen the basement because one of the kids was excited about a new video game console his dad had bought. She had carefully sneaked down the rickety stairs with him to see the new setup. A few months later, the mother had gotten a job in a new city and the family had moved.

  She didn’t know who owned the house now.

  “Doors?” Butters grabbed a gun and motioned for the rest of the crew to do the same.

  “Front and back,” she said. “There’s one staircase inside that leads to the second floor and two staircases to the basement. One in the living room and one in the kitchen.”

  “Got it.” Neil led the way to the house and the group acted like they’d done this a million times before. Emily felt out of her element and decided to try to stay out of trouble, instead walking the perimeter of the house with Robert.

  She wanted to ask how he got his scar, but she knew it was rude. Maybe they’d find some Scotch in the basement and everyone would start talking, but she doubted it.

  She tried to focus on taking in her surroundings as she walked around the large farmhouse with Robert. It was a faded blue that had probably been beautiful once. Now the paint was chipped and water damaged. She hoped the new owners had left before the infection started.

  She hoped they had gotten out alive.

  Robert led Emily carefully around the house. The two of them eyed the property carefully. Unlike most of the farmhouses, there were no outbuildings. There wasn’t even a garage. The people who lived at the house had worked in town and spent most of their time at their offices. While many rural townspeople tended to have gardens or chickens, this family hadn’t taken to farm life very well. They didn’t even have a dog.

  “It’ll do for the storm,” Robert eyed the road warily. “But I don’t like how visible the house is from the road. Didn’t these people ever think of planting fucking trees?”

  She had wondered the same thing. The house was only about 50 yards from the highway, which meant anyone driving by could see it. She doubted any Infected would be wandering this far from town, but other survivors weren’t exactly people you could befriend.

  Emily and Robert moved the truck behind the house so anyone passing wouldn’t be able to see it.

  “Don’t know if we’re gonna survive this storm,” Robert muttered, “but we sure as hell ain’t gettin’ eaten by no cannibals.” Emily wanted to point out that hiding the truck wouldn’t necessarily mean people wouldn’t stop and search the house, but she didn’t bother. The wind was picking up and they needed to get inside. No one would be wandering around during the storm.

  No one smart, anyway.

  She eyed some of the lower clouds warily. It wouldn’t take long for funnel clouds to begin to form. This was Kansas, after all. Though Kansas didn’t get nearly as many tornadoes as people liked to believe, it still saw a fair amount.

  “Let’s go,” Robert said. He grabbed a couple of bags from the bed of the truck and hauled them to the back door. He dropped them down, then headed back to grab more bags. Emily followed suit. After a few minutes, the back door opened up and Neil appeared.

  “House is clear,” he said. “Let’s get it inside.”

  The three of them carried the supplies down to the basement where Kari was waiting. She had found some candles and lit them. The room now had a soft, eerie glow.

  “You’re going to burn the whole place down,” Butter shook his head, but Kari just shrugged.

  “There are worse ways to die,” she told him. Emily wanted to ask how, but she was still the new girl. She didn’t want to press her luck.

  “Cody is rooting through the kitchen,” Neil told her. “The house was empty.”

  “I guess no one new ever moved in after the last family left,” Emily said.

  “No,” he said again. “The house was empty.”

  “You think the owners will come back?” She asked, but Neil shook his head.

  “It’s been ransacked by at least one group of survivors, maybe two. Upstairs is trashed. Not by Infected, either.”

  “It looks awful,” Kari agreed. “Trash everywhere, garbage, even shit. Just all over.”

  Emily hadn’t gotten a good look. She had followed Neil in through the back door, then down the kitchen stairs. Now she wondered what she had led the group into. Would the other survivors come back? Would they want this house?

  “Don’t look so worried,” Neil said gently. He patted her gently on the shoulder, then motioned for her to take a seat. She hadn’t slept well in days and the sofa in the center of the room looked very inviting.

  Emily shot him a worried glance, then sat down. She might be making a mistake choosing to fall asleep in the company of strangers, but she didn’t have much choice. She was tired and exhausted and dirty. She didn’t think Neil would hurt her, but then, she had never been the best judge of character.

  Chapter 7

  Neil stared at Emily. The little waif looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks. Her eyes were hollow and sunken with dark, deep circles around them.

  “Who would have thought?” Robert said, coming up beside him. He grabbed a blanket from a pile and laid it over her frail figure, deep asleep on the couch. “The owner happens to be a hot piece of ass who isn’t a complete bitch.”

  “Don’t talk about her like that,” Neil said. Robert gave him a knowing grin, and Neil knew he had walked right into the man’s trap. Fucking spooks.

  “Storm’s gonna be on us anytime,” Robert said. “I’m gonna go look around.” He slapped Neil on the shoulder and left, heavy boots pounding as he made his way up the stairs.

  Cody came downstairs with a couple of flashlights and tossed one to Neil, then placed the others on a table in the corner. He made himself comfortable on a chair and pulled out a couple of small juggling balls. Then, to Neil’s surprise, Cody began juggling them.

  “You’re a clown now?” He asked. He had never seen Cody do anything besides moon over Kari.

  “Gotta do something,” Cody shrugged. “I’m bored, man.” He started with two balls and quickly added a third. He was sloppy and his technique was poor, but after a few minutes he started to get the hang of things. “I found them upstairs,” he said, catching the balls. He held them out to Neil. “Wanna try?”

  Neil took the weighted balls in his hand. The soft leather that covered them was stitched together. Colorful leather for colorful balls. Maybe the owner had been a clown, or at least had a child. He lifted the balls and carefully tossed one in the air, then the next. Soon he was juggling, just as Cody had.

  “Not bad, boss,” Cody said when Neil finally handed the balls back. He continued
practicing in the dimly lit room. Neil figured they’d both be better when it was light outside.

  Butter and Robert stomped down the stairs then. Neil turned to look at Emily, but the kid didn’t even stir. How long had she been gone for? More importantly, where had she gone? The cabin had been well cared for, but had a thin layer of dust on it when they arrived. They’d been there only one night when she showed up. Had she simply been scavenging?

  Or had she been on some sort of mission?

  She looked well enough, Neil thought. No major scrapes or bruises, no bite marks, to be fair. She had kissed him like a hungry wildcat and he wanted more, but the truth was that she was a stranger. A wildcard. It probably wasn’t safe to let her stay with them and if Neil was smart, he’d put her down quietly. The rest of the group wouldn’t ask questions when he said she had left. They knew better than to pry when some things were best left alone.

  He couldn’t, though, and not just because she was gorgeous or had a smart mouth. The truth was that Neil wanted to be a hero. He wanted to be the guy who saved someone, even just one person. Robert, Butter, Cody, even Kari: they had saved Neil as much as themselves. What would he have done if they hadn’t found each other wandering around outside the base?

  What would any of them have done?

  “Doors are locked,” Robert commented, making himself comfortable against a wall in the middle of the room. He had a flashlight in hand, flicked it on, and waved it from one staircase to the next. Strange the house had two sets. It wasn’t a setup you often saw.

  “Put some furniture in front of ‘em, just in case.” Butter added. Neil nodded. It was a good idea. Then again, Butter was full of them. The guy looked like he was in a motorcycle gang or a bouncer at a seedy club, yet he was one of the most loyal men Neil had ever met.

  “Better get some shut-eye,” Neil said. “Who knows how long the storm is going to last?”

  “I always sleep better in storms,” Kari added. She curled up in a ball on the floor. Neil tossed her a blanket and she yanked it over her body. Within minutes, she was snoring, oblivious to everything around her.