A pause in the conversation was all I needed to know that Kady agreed with me that bringing the kid here was stupid. But the tone of Kady’s voice when she next spoke told me she agreed with our compassion.
“I’m—I’m going to go on a water run with Blake.”
Kady ran off quickly. I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t want to be there, either. Not because I was scared of the little girl; I wasn’t. But because I didn’t want to be the one to make the ultimate decision if Oliver couldn’t. My sister’s grave was just to the left of me, and I had a flash of having to bury this other kid beside her. My guts turned into knots. I knew I just couldn’t do it.
I could still check out Evergreen Fishing Resort and see if anyone were holed up there. Or, if the army brats had stripped it clean of anything useful. I could take the short way through the woods and along the lake, and be back before the end of the day.
“Connor, you and I need to get out of here for a while.”
Connor barked as if in agreement.
Chapter Thirteen
Connor and I wandered into the woods toward a deer trail not far from the colony. It led to the other road that was less traveled—the one that ran alongside the lake and didn’t pass any cottages or homesteads. I hadn’t taken it with Oliver for the same reason I knew the army brats would never take it—we’d never find anything to scavenge.
The woods were quiet and cool. Connor was rushing to keep up with me, sniffing at the air. As long as he was calm, I knew I was safe from deaders. Where the trees were thinner, the sun burned down on me. Sunscreen. One more thing to add to the list of items we needed. I tried to stay where the leaf canopy protected me, as I had to find out who else might be there. In a situation like this, even friendly people could turn deadly when their resources disappeared.
I pushed through the woods, slapping at mosquitoes and brushing away spider webs. Connor stayed close behind me but was not as adept at moving silently through the brush. He would learn. As I hacked at the branches with my machete, clearing as much of a path as I could, I felt like that little boy, not so long ago hiding from his stepsiblings. A cornered lamb, forced to become the lion.
Where are my sons? My stepfather’s voice echoed in my head, as it had a month earlier.
“I had no choice!” I screamed back, but not in my memory. My voice echoed in the woods, with only a murder of crows taking flight to answer me. Connor tilted his head. I got a grip on myself, pushing the memories down. I am not that boy anymore, I told myself over and over. I had not been that boy since that day . . .
Cows mooing interrupted my thoughts. The animals sounded calm, as if people were caring for them. Cows at the resort? Someone had brought them here. I needed to know if the army brats had, or someone else. Whoever it was, I couldn’t assume they were peaceful. The law made most people kind—and now there was no law.
Metal creaked in the gentle breeze. When the creak was at its loudest, I came to a meadow where I discovered more than a dozen swaying gibbets—iron cages suspended from trees. A decomposed corpse, sometimes several, with flies buzzing and feasting, was inside each one. The flies so numerous they sounded like an airplane motor. I hid my face in my palm, hoping to filter out some of the stench. It didn’t work, but I pretended it did.
I paced along the row of cages until I found one containing a man who was still alive. He was unconscious, breathing in heavy rasps. Connor rushed below and sniffed the cage. I watched to see if he’d yip and flee. He didn’t. I looked up to another nearby cage and examined the body inside. Black from decay, with skin hanging from the bones. His jaw was open, and he had no teeth. I looked at the living man and wondered if it would be the same with him.
Using one of my machetes, I poked the live man just to see if he really was alive. I longed for the time when the dead stayed dead. I glanced down at Connor, who paced around the gibbets, sniffing. He wasn’t whining, or fearful in any way, so maybe these men weren’t infected. I used the blade to open the man’s mouth. He made a sickly sucking noise, as if his jaw were stiff as a rock. Black ooze dripped from his lips. I saw only blackened gums. I couldn’t help but feel as though I were walking into a trap.
Connor suddenly burst into barks and growls. Not at the man in the cage, but at the forest around us. I drew my other machete and waited. I was expecting deaders, but instead two army brats emerged from the trees. One was taller, with long blond hair and no weapons. The other, pointing an AK-47 at me, was shorter but very broad and well muscled.
“We checked them already,” the blond kid said, “they’re staying dead.”
“Connor, heel,” I said sharply, and Connor stayed at my side. His teeth were bared, but he was quiet.
“I’m Timothy. This is my associate, Gareth.” Timothy held out his hand, but I stayed where I was. I scanned the surrounding woods for signs there might be more of them. “You dumb? It ain’t polite not to at least say ’ello.”
“Hello-who-are-you?” I said, all in one breath.
“I told you who I am. You daft? You belong to that colony at the resort, yeah?”
Gareth brought his hand onto his pistol. I saw signs of people hidden in the trees. Shadows. At least two I could see. And only one of me. Suddenly I wanted to write this down. I reached into my pocket for my notebook, and Gareth took his pistol out of the holster. I showed him it was just a notebook, and he and Timothy both relaxed.
“Oi! You don’t have to write down where you’re from,” Timothy said with a snort.
“I’m not,” I scribbled down the numbers so I wouldn’t forget, “I’m not telling you where I’m from.”
Timothy snapped his fingers. Three girls emerged from the woods, all carrying AK-47s. My chances had slipped from slim to none—and my mind raced fast to consider other options. If I attacked, they’d mow me down before I hacked off one limb. Connor could distract them, and I could get away. But then I’d lose Connor. I wondered what the chances were of some deader just wandering over to us.
Slowly, I bent at the knees and placed my knives on the ground. When I stood back up, Timothy nodded at Gareth, who took out a pair of manacles. When Gareth grabbed my wrist, I twisted his arm and kicked out his knees. I clicked the cuffs on him as he collapsed to his knees on the ground in front of me. Timothy’s crew cocked their guns and aimed them at me. Or rather, at us.
“Let him go!” Timothy yelled at me.
I crouched behind Gareth and made myself a smaller target. Connor got behind me like he understood. I grabbed my machetes, sheathed one and pierced the other into Gareth’s side so that he cringed.
“Tell them,” I said.
“He has a knife and is sticking it in my side!”
Timothy burned red with anger and shouted. These kids were playing war and treating life as though it didn’t matter, but they weren’t running off a plan of any kind.
“I’m going to disappear into the woods. Gareth is coming with me. When I’m safely away, I’ll uncuff him and set him free.”
“No!” Timothy yelled at me. “I’m in charge!” He stomped his feet and threw a tantrum. A memory flashed through my mind of my sister not wanting to eat her vegetables. That time, my sister had brought out the wrath of my stepfather.
“Your other option is that I slit his throat, and you come pick up the pieces.”
“Uncuff him now!” Timothy screamed at me.
Two shots fired. Two of Timothy’s soldiers splattered blood from their forehead before going down.
“You’re not alone.” Timothy swung toward the woods with his gun.
In fact, I was alone. But he was right about someone else being in the woods. Someone who was neither an army brat nor one of mine. I knew exactly who had come.
I whispered to Garrett, “If you want to live, you have to do what I say.”
Just then, my stepfather emerged from the woods with six of his colony behind him. They weren’t carrying assault rifles, but they did have hunting rifles capable of taking us all out.
“Who am I?” My stepfather spoke with an arrogance as if everyone should fear him. “In the land of the blind . . .”
“The One-Eyed Man is King!” the people with him all shouted in unison—including those still hidden in the woods.
“I bet you know who I am, yeah?” Timothy spat. “I own the stockpile of weapons the army left behind when everyone died. You don’t want war with me, mate!”
The chuckle from my stepfather sent rivers of fear up my spine. Suddenly I couldn’t help but become that little boy forced into the woods. Hunted by the sons his stepfather loved.
“Garrett, when I say run, if you want to live, you better follow me,” I whispered to him. I knew I should use him as a shield and get away, but this kid was innocent and just following whoever he believed had the greatest chance to survive. Right now, that was me.
A gun fired and I felt Garrett slowly drop dead from my grip. My stepfather was pointing his pistol at me—I hadn’t even noticed him take aim with it. Now I was completely exposed. Dead.
“Boy, it ain’t our time yet,” my stepfather said, without taking his one good eye off Timothy. I knew he still spoke to me. “But when it is, your death will not be quick. It will not be simple. It will be a masterpiece.”
“What the blast is going on? You—don’t move!” Timothy pointed his gun at me, but someone fired from the woods, right at his toes.
“I’m going to let both of you live,” my stepfather said. “Make no mistake. I am letting you live only so you can see your compound given to me without a war. Given to me, because I am the rightful heir to this land.”
“Why would I give you my compound?” Timothy asked.
I turned to leave and slapped my leg so Connor would follow. I didn’t see what exchange happened, but I heard my stepfather’s men all shout, “Because the One-Eyed Man is King!”
His blind followers. Them, he could lead into any fire he wished. Even to Hell itself.
WHEN CONNOR AND I RETURNED to our colony, everything was quiet. I stopped at the tree line and listened for Big and Skinny’s football games, Kady’s complaining, or Oliver’s orders. But the field was eerily empty, covered with a heavy silence. I readied my blades in case of deaders. However, Connor sniffed along the ground calmly as he found a place to make his mark. As I approached the house, no one greeted me from the roost. For a sickening second I wondered if the army brats had beaten me back to the house. Maybe they knew about us all along, and now everyone but me was dead.
Imagining Oliver dead sent a rage into my blood so that I shook uncontrollably. The thoughts of scavenging on my own, of the constant worry that someone might take over my home when I had to sleep, of being all alone when my stepfather finally launched his attack—all this pushed a pain into my chest like a great weight. I imagined back to when I had discovered the bloody sheet in the master bedroom, and how wrapping myself tightly in it seemed to squeeze out this pain.
I took out my notebook and considered writing down what was wrong, but as I stared at the blank page I didn’t know what to write. I flipped back a few pages to when I had met my crew, and rubbed my fingers over the names. Oliver, Blake, Tom, Kady. Should I cross them off, maybe tear out the page and pretend they never existed? Was it my fault if they were dead because I’d never forced them to train properly?
The front door to the house was closed. I stepped carefully, one foot before the other on a sideways approach. I turned the door handle slowly so that when the door opened it made no noise against its hinges. Inside the home was as quiet as outside, and I knew no one was there—at least no one alive.
First, I checked Oliver’s room. Empty. Then, Skinny and Big Guy’s. And finally, Kady’s. No one was home. I was alone.
“H-hello?” called Kady’s voice from the front door.
I rushed to meet her. I saw her cheeks were smeared with grime and tears. Connor stopped beside me.
“What happened? Where’s Oliver?” I asked, prepared for the worst.
“Th-the girl,” Kady began through broken sobs, “you better get to the lake.”
I burst through the doorway and dashed for the lake. I crashed through the path that led from the edge of our clearing through the woods to the beach. Big Guy and Skinny were kneeling beside Oliver, each with one hand on Oliver’s shoulders. I stood silent. And listened to Oliver’s gentle sobs. He sat in the grass, his gun cast aside. His head slouched and his shoulders jerked up and down. He was sobbing over the dead girl in front of him.
Kady rushed past me and kneeled beside Oliver, tucking her head against his shoulder. Oliver stroked the girl’s hair, her blood pooling where the bullet had entered her forehead.
“I–just–wanted–her–to–see–the–water–before . . .”
Kady let Oliver go as his voice broke into sobs. Big and Skinny stood. As they all walked past me, they patted my shoulder. Oliver turned to me. His face tear stricken and his mouth open as if to speak. Though his lips moved, no words sounded. But I could make out him mouthing, “You were right. Oh god, you were right. I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t.”
I kneeled beside him and wrapped my arms around him. I squeezed him tight, the way my mother’s sheet had held me tight. To push the pain out of him.
“You should have let me do it,” I whispered in his ear. “You should have let me be the one—”
He buried his head into my shoulder so hard that I had to stop speaking. Now he understood me a little more, and on those occasions when I’d have to act to save us, he wouldn’t think it came easily to me. He would understand all the emotions I didn’t know how to show.
While I held Oliver tightly, I looked at the girl on the ground nearby. The bandages lovingly wrapped around the bite mark on her arm made me wish that Oliver had been spared this truth for just a little while longer.
Chapter Fourteen
Oliver, with an emotionless smile, watched Big Guy shovel the last bit of dirt over the girl’s grave. We didn’t even know her name. All we had was a cross we’d made from two sticks to remind us that she had ever lived. My memories drifted back to the day before when Oliver had seen me wallowing by my sister’s grave, and how he’d gotten me moving to make me feel better. He had refused to let me sink into despair. No doubt that had saved my sanity, as a result.
“Let’s go for a walk,” I said to Oliver. “Now is the perfect time for us to check out Evergreen Fishing Resort.”
Kady was standing on his right, and Skinny was in the roost. Both were shooting me hard glares, which I ignored.
“Maybe he’d like a moment,” Kady growled back at me.
“No,” Oliver said, “I don’t want a moment. Ethan’s right. I need to do something.”
Oliver took my hand, and I followed him to the house to get our packs. Big Guy gave us a weird smirk. Inside the house, I refilled our bottles, and Oliver emptied the previous day’s haul from the packs and onto the living room floor.
“They can sort this out,” he mumbled. “Where to?”
“We’ll take the short way to the resort,” I told him. He took my hand again, and when our skin touched I felt him shaking. “But there’s something I need you to see first.”
We left the house and I pulled him toward a path. We headed down it until we came to a high log, which we leaped over and began making our way through dense woods.
“Where are you taking me?”
Without answering his question, I took him through the woods to a cabin in a clearing. Most likely poachers had built it, thinking no one would stumble upon it this deep into the woods. The same reasoning my stepfather had used for choosing this location for his hunts: no one would ever catch him. He had never counted on a cabin being here. Had never counted on the leg traps I’d find inside. Or me having the conscience to do more than simply wait for my stepsiblings to find me. Me drawing them to the
cabin. Drawing them one at a time. To prove to my stepfather that I was as good a hunter as them.
“What is this place?” Oliver asked as he slowly walked around it. He ran his fingers over the duct tape on the shattered window. He looked up at the moss growing on the roof, and tapped the log walls that were stacked tight. A good three-yards of dirt separated the trees and the cabin. Oliver wandered around the cabin and I stayed still by the trees. I waited while he walked to the back. Where he would discover what I wanted him to find. Connor sat on my feet, impressing me with what a good guard dog he was fast becoming.
“Oh. My. God,” I heard Oliver say from the opposite side of the cabin. “Weren’t you taking me for a walk to get my mind off this shit?”
I wandered slowly around the cabin to find him standing still, gazing at two decomposed bodies in the dirt. “This is where my stepfather’s sons, Kyle and Zeke, died.” They were piled together against the cabin. “This is where I killed them.”
“Why would you bring me here?” Oliver stared at me in the way Bruce Wayne must have stared at the man who murdered his parents.
“My stepfather would send Kyle and Zeke into the woods to hunt and beat me. This is where I proved I was the most worthy to survive the apocalypse.”
“And you thought it was the best time to tell me this just after I killed a kid?”
“This is my Fortress of Solitude. Where I go when I need to recharge. Where you can come, too.”
Oliver’s shoulders relaxed, and a small smile emerged from his lips. “You’re sharing your biggest secret with me?”
“Go inside the cabin. Cry it out. Rest. There are military meals stored here. Do what you have to do—”
“Because . . .?”
I hoped Oliver understood me. That he knew this walk was about more than just getting over his sadness.
“I found my stepfather, and you and I need to figure out just how big a threat he’s become.”
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