Chapter Seven
I thinned out the creatures at the back of the credit union with the slingshot. I didn’t have nearly enough marbles to wipe them all out, nor did I want to waste too much of what I had. Oliver offered to shoot them with his crossbow, but I thought we might need his bolts later. Once we were all fleeing, we wouldn’t exactly have time to risk retrieving marbles or bolts from the creatures’ heads.
The boys lowered Connor and me. When my feet were firmly planted on the ground, I drew my machetes. The puppy on my back was heavy, and I worried what might happen if I got knocked onto my back in a fight. Get to the dirt bike, I told myself.
Fighting and killing the creatures was never an option. There were too many, and eventually one would get the bite that connected. The only useful things were two spilled tin garbage cans. The bags were ripped open, and flies buzzed around the rotting remains. I’d never expected the apocalypse to smell as bad as it did.
I walked over to the tins, took the lids, and glanced up at the credit union roof. The three boys still watched, and I was betting they were half expecting me to just sneak away. I could have. Being killed by deaders was a risk, and helping these three boys survive made them competition for supplies. I should have just let the boys die. Had they known the plan that was forming in my mind of how I could use them to take down my stepfather, they may have preferred that I left them to die on that rooftop.
Connor managed to squeeze his head out from the sack and lick the back of my neck. Hard to believe he was the same dog that bit my hand only a few hours earlier. I sheathed the machetes, careful not to slice Connor in the process. I ran a get-away course through my mind. Around the building, to Cariboo Highway, and straight out of town to where I’d stashed the bike. Question was, how long would the creatures follow before they chose to reset? And could they run faster than me?
It didn’t help that Connor squirmed inside the pack. I heard him whimpering, and now I had to move fast. If he started barking before I was in place, the creatures would be on top of me fast. I crept around the building to Cariboo Highway, feeling the eyes of the three boys on the roof. I was reminded of what had happened after I was beaten up in the town. Of the shopkeeper who’d rushed out to help, yanking Tom off me.
There’d been shouting, and I just sat on the ground. My nose bleeding. Helpless as this pup in my rucksack. I didn’t want it getting back to my stepfather that I’d been beaten up, so I’d crept away as the shopkeeper shouted it out with the bigger boys. As I stood on Cariboo Highway in front of that shopkeeper’s store, I decided I wasn’t going to be so quiet.
I didn’t need to glance up at the roof to know that Big Guy was watching me so hard that his gaze pierced into me. I couldn’t help but feel that he and I would one day come to blows, and I would have to kill him. Why save him, then? I had no reason to help these boys, except that in every comic I’d read, the hero never went back on his word. I asked myself the question I would ask a thousand times more: What would Batman do?
I held a tin lid in each hand. The creatures bumped against the credit union door. Once they noticed me, I would be committed. Ready or not. I breathed steadily. Sweat beaded on my forehead. I gritted my teeth. Then I banged the lids together and yelled. Connor howled. The creatures all stopped what they were doing and turned to me. Fresh meat. They started to run.
“Run!” Oliver yelled. I’d frozen, but his voice clicked my brain back into survival mode. I turned to sprint. Connor started squirming again and knocked me off balance. I swayed a little and turned to see the creatures gaining fast. By the time my feet were moving and I was running, I felt as if it were too late. Connor barked as if begging me to run, run, run!
I knew how quickly the creatures were gaining by the loudness and shrillness in Connor’s barks. When I got to the bike, I glanced behind. None of the creatures had stopped, as they were all almost on top of me. I got the bike up and started it, and just as I sped away, the first hand was on me. Then a second, and a third.
But I was away before any of them got teeth anywhere near me. Maybe now that they were in motion, they’d just keep going until they eventually found someone—or something—to eat. I rode toward our rendezvous point.
The bike sputtered and rolled to a stop at Loon Lake Road. The puppy stuffed into my backpack squirmed and let out a frightened yelp. I climbed off the bike just as the pup kicked hard. He was moving into different positions as if trying to get comfortable. To coddle him would be to kill us both. Either I was his pack leader or he would become creature food.
I dropped the bag on the ground and opened it. The pup leaped out, shaking himself and spinning around to face me. Then he raised his shackles, bared his teeth, and let out a low growl. I knew he wasn’t really growling at me. He was just confused and scared. I picked up the bag, grabbed the bike by the handlebars, and pushed it to the side of the road for better cover.
“Follow me or not, your choice,” I said to the dog.
I glanced over my shoulder. Connor sat with his head cocked to one side. He had this dumb look on his face as his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. I gave my leg a hard pat, and the dog came running to my side.
My stepfather would have been so ashamed of me. I remembered lying on my side in the woods the first time my stepsiblings hunted me. They hadn’t touched my face, but they had kicked my back and chest. Because my lungs hurt so much I felt as if I were breathing underwater. I cried and wailed, hoping for someone to come and rescue me. I had run so far and long that I no longer knew where I was. If I hadn’t found my way back, would anyone have cared enough to get me? No. Not that night, and not this day. The difference? I was no longer that helpless kid hoping his tears would save him—I was now the one in charge.
I decided to wait until I had counted to a hundred for the boys to catch up. If they were too scared to leave the roof, they might still be stuck up there, and I was at least the rest of the day’s walk from home. What would happen if I waited too long and it got dark? If I used a flashlight, would that just be a summons for the creatures? Or more army brats? How safe would we be at Kady’s, if the men who had tried to kill her knew we were hiding there?
Connor heard them first, but this time he didn’t bark. He sniffed the air, letting out a low growl. I knew by the fear I sensed in his wide eyes that he sniffed deaders. I leaned down to pat his head.
“Good boy. That fear will keep you alive. Us alive.”
He gave a good few sniffs at a ditch on the steep side of the road just before the woods on our right. I propped the bike on its kickstand and drew my machete and baton. My safest bet was to climb a tree and pick them off one by one with the slingshot. But as Connor scampered between my feet, I knew I had to protect him. I never should have saved him.
The rustling of bushes grew louder until it echoed all around me. I stayed focused on where the dog sniffed. The trees and wind could distort sounds from the woods. Connor’s senses were more trustworthy than mine. I looked where he looked.
The first wail pierced my ears, and my heart began to race. I recalled asking my mom, “Are there monsters in the dark?”
“Yes,” my stepfather would answer for her.
I thought of this as the sun beat its hot rays—and as the first in what looked like a dozen deaders spotted me. They had followed me from the town, going through the woods, a more direct route. By accident or conscious decision? I wondered. Once again, I transformed into that little boy lost in the woods, trying to hide from his older stepsiblings.
I remembered our game of hide-and-seek. Except when they found me, they had beaten me up. The first time, I didn’t fight back. I took the blows and shed tears hoping for someone to rescue me.
This was not that day.
The dog let out a howl as the first deader lunged. He was faster than I’d expected, but I ducked beneath his grab and sliced one of his arms clean off. Hacking off a limb did nothing to stop him. Before the next one came, I quickly sliced upward and lopped of
f his head. As it fell, two more scrambled to get me.
Run! my instincts told me. But if I did, I would have to leave the pup behind. I staggered my legs, and danced in a diamond pattern over him. This martial arts technique allowed me to face all four directions, and to protect both myself and the dog. My blades were like fans around me, ready for the next deader to lunge.
One grabbed my arm. I sliced his elbow. Another deader bumped the first one, and I cut both. Another deader grabbed my hair from behind, and as I was knocked off balance, I kicked like a mule behind me. My foot connected with a decomposed chest. But instead of knocking him away, my foot caved into his ribs. I was caught like a fox in a snare. I managed to slice his head clean off, but my foot stayed stuck.
More came. The pup cowered beneath me. My foot wouldn’t pull free. I was as good as dead. A big deader rushed me and tackled me to the ground, and just as he was about to bite me, a bolt slammed into his skull. Had it gone clean through, it would have pierced mine. He dropped dead on top of me. More bolts cleared the area of danger, and I was saved from deaders. But in this world that did not mean I was safe.
I slowly looked over my shoulder. Oliver was standing with Big Guy and Skinny.
“That’s twice we saved you,” Oliver said, though I could see by his face that he wanted to say more.
I yanked my foot from the deader’s chest and tried to ignore the slime that covered my boot. Instead of saying thanks, I remarked, “I was starting to think you three weren’t gonna show.”
Skinny and Big Guy were both scavenging the dead. Oliver knew I owed him my life. He stared at me, but what was I supposed to say?
I picked the bike back up and started to leave. Connor stayed close on my heels. Skinny and Big Guy followed, carrying a handful of stuff. From the looks of it, they had found a few flashlights and rings of keys. What did they plan to do with keys? I took out my notebook and wrote all this down. Afterward, I started for my home, choosing not to tell them about Kady just yet. For her protection, I needed to know for sure I could trust these guys.
ON THE WALK BACK, THE only noise was my stepfather’s voice in my head telling me what a fool I was. Everyone is the enemy. Eventually, there will be a fight for leadership—probably first with Oliver, next with Big Guy. I ignored that voice as it told me to let them die now, rather than have to kill them later. I knew, as we trudged down the road, that his voice wasn’t completely honest. My stepfather would have an army, and he’d be confident he was coming after only me—his cowardly son. I glanced behind at my army of three. My chance to survive the real threat: my stepfather.
The road curved into our driveway, with woods on either side. I stepped around the rotting soldiers along the perimeter. Connor smelled them and froze. He barked high-pierced yelps and refused to go on any farther. This I’d have to train out of him. Grabbing the pup by the scruff, I dragged him with me. He would learn not to fear if I showed no fear.
“What the . . .?” Big Guy whispered.
When I turned back, I saw all three guys were frozen where the bodies began. They stared at me.
“It’s okay, they’re really dead.”
“That’s so not the issue,” Oliver said.
“Well, I didn’t kill them,” I said, wondering if that was what I was missing. I let go of Connor, and he sat with his body pressed against my leg. He panted loudly and drooled on my shoe.
“Then who killed them?” Oliver asked. His tone reminded me of my mother’s when she’d ask one of us kids something she already had an answer to.
“My stepfather.” I was betting that wasn’t the answer they expected. I started back toward the house, meandering around the bodies, with Connor only a few steps behind me.
“You’re that crazy family that was on the news,” Oliver said. “The cult that was stockpiling weapons for the apocalypse.”
“It’s getting dark. We should get indoors. Tomorrow we’ll start to clean up,” I said.
Eventually they all followed, muttering a lot of stuff that I couldn’t make out. A plot to kill me? Concern that I was crazy? Did I need to point out that the apocalypse had actually happened?
“What’s in the shed? Guns? Food?”
Big Guy’s words were like sponges forcing their way into my brain. As they expanded, the pressure on my ears caused a ringing. I grabbed my chest, held myself tight and breathed.
“Never go in there! You will never go in there!”
“Wow. You need to seriously chill out,” Big Guy said, as he thoughtlessly pushed his way past me.
Connor growled, but still stayed behind me. Big Guy opened the house door and walked inside, as though never considering there might be danger. That brashness would work to my advantage. I had no loyalty to him. He was an expendable; they all were. They could be the bait if they were naive enough to head into bad situations first.
I stepped inside after them and headed for the roost where I’d feel safe. I could see the entire territory, and though it was covered with bodies, at least they were staying dead. Connor couldn’t make it up the ladder and whined until I shot him a hard glare. He sat, panting heavily. Oliver took out his water bottle and gave Connor a drink.
I took a seat on the sleeping bag, and my muscles started to ache. Running on adrenaline had drained me, and now exhaustion was settling in. Inside the house, the others rustled through the rooms. I heard whispered gasps—probably at the blood in my parents’ room. Bet they were wondering if I’d killed them.
The others climbed up to the roost and sat against the rails. I turned to face the woods on the outskirts of the field. No need to be afraid. They could have just let me die had they wanted me dead.
“Do you have water?” Big Guy asked, his voice grainy.
“We’ll have to take it out of the hot water tank. That’ll be the only clean water—and will only last us a day or two. We’ll need to build a large filter for all of us.”
They looked at me as if I had just spoken a foreign language. I didn’t have to ask if any of them knew how to build one.
“Isn’t there a lake nearby?” Big Guy asked.
“Yeah, but you have to filter and boil the water.” I turned to face them, and when none of them spoke I took that to mean they didn’t get it. “Parasites. Beaver fever,” I explained, adding impatiently, “What skills do you have?”
“I can use Facebook,” Skinny said. “Facebook status update: ‘Off the roof of the bank, onto the roof of possible crazy man.’”
The other two snickered, and I wondered if that was meant as a joke.
“Facebook status update,” Oliver muttered, “‘Will learn to sleep with one eye open.’”
Skinny and Big Guy looked at each other and shrugged. Then they turned to Oliver, who stretched by pressing his back over the rails. When he stood up straight again he rolled his eyes.
“I’m good with the crossbow. I might be able to hunt. I wasn’t exactly prepared for the world to end.” He managed a wry grin. “Bet this still didn’t wipe out my student debt.”
I nodded. “We should beef up security. These deaders seem to stay put until put in motion—unlikely they’ll wander over here. A simple wire fence might stop that if they do.”
“I can do that,” Big Guy volunteered. “I worked with my uncle repairing his fence on the farm every summer.”
“That’s a skill,” I told him flatly.
“I’m pretty good at researching things,” Skinny said more seriously. “I saw a library of survival books downstairs. I could give making water filters a shot.”
Good. Keep them busy. I didn’t tell them I’d memorized all the books. A water filter was easy; we’d just need layers of sand and charcoal. Several layers. The best thing would be a big drum for the water, like our hot water tank. The sand would filter out large impurities, and the charcoal would filter out the smaller ones. The water would get cleaner and cleaner as it passed through each layer. But we’d still need to boil the water so we could drink it. That was key. I didn
’t tell them this because I wanted them to do it. I wanted them to contribute—that would build loyalty.
Right now we had to burn the bodies, just to make sure there was no chance of disease. That could keep Oliver and Big Guy occupied. Afterward, I could teach them to grow things. It was spring, so we’d plant beets, carrots, chard, lettuce, and tomatoes.
But without knowing how contagious the disease was, could we grow anything where the bodies were lying? I took out my notepad and scribbled this all down. It was important to remember.
“We need to burn the dead,” Oliver said as if reading my mind.
“My stepfather’s supplies are in the cellar.” I pointed so they knew where to look. “We should spend the night in the shelter. It’ll lock, and we can all sleep.”
“Is there enough room?” Big Guy asked as he eyed the house.
We couldn’t all live in the shelter, and if we were going to be a colony, then we needed to move into the house. Survival was no longer about just me. And my stepfather had fortified our home for the apocalypse. As one unit, we should be invincible in this fortress.
“The house is a lot to defend,” I told them. It would also be a lot to maintain in the winter, and I wasn’t sure this crew was serious enough to do it. “Tonight the shelter. Tomorrow we figure out watch rotations so we can live in the house.”
The sun was setting. The breeze had turned cool. I’d been on that bank roof most of the day, but they’d probably been up there for the entire day. Skinny was shivering. If he had heat stroke, there wasn’t a lot we could do about it. Simple things we took for granted in the old world were now life threatening.
But tomorrow was another day. A fresh day. The first with the start of my colony, my army, one that I would use to take down my stepfather. Wherever he was.
Chapter Eight
I woke the next day in my shelter to the sound of Connor peeing on the floor beside me. I rolled onto my side and stopped myself from grabbing him by the scruff. Unless I took him right outside, punishing him for urinating indoors wouldn’t make any sense to the dog. But I couldn’t take him right outside. I didn’t know what the three strangers might have been conspiring about while I slept, nor did I know if anything was waiting for us to open the outside hatch doors.
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