Molterpocalypse (The Molting Book 3)

by C A Gleason

  Yes, she was beautiful, but she wasn’t nice, so not the one for you.

  Take the apartment closest to the street, easier to move out that way. Don’t decorate it; you aren’t staying.

  Don’t worry about rising in rank; you won’t be in the military long. You’re not a lifer.

  It was ironic, but staying light and fit to move whenever it was necessary was something he had learned even before the military, when he was a teenager because he had lived in a few apartments. It was ingrained in him even more while he was a soldier. Because he’d moved so many times—hundreds, if including field exercises while wearing a uniform—and for most of his adult life, he took that lesson with him even when he was no longer a soldier. That way he felt he could stay ahead of danger.

  Heike was zipping back and forth with dishes so quickly it was as if she thought she were being timed, but it was only because once her job was over, she could go do whatever she felt like doing within the safe confines of the cabin. This morning, she clearly wanted to get back to her horror book. She placed the last plate roughly in the sink, and it clattered on top of the others.

  “Be gentle. It will break,” Doreen said.

  Heike grimaced. “Sorry.”

  “That’s OK. Now go get dressed for the day. Before you play.”

  “I was going to get back in bed and read some more.”

  “You don’t want to stay in bed all day like some lazy person.”

  “I’m not!” she protested. “I’m simply the most comfortable while I read there.”

  Doreen considered her decision far longer than her daughter’s patience lasted. If Doreen said no to her then Heike would have a look on her face that little girls did when they were mad but doing their best to hide it, and it would probably last for days.

  “Just for a while,” Doreen said. “Then Jonah will have something for you to do.” She looked over at him expectantly.

  “Really?” Heike said. “What?”

  “Um . . .” Jonah said. “Yes, something very important. That needs to be done and I will think about how to explain it.”

  “Go read, Heike!” Doreen said with a hint of humor.

  “Yay!” Heike said as if it were the best thing she’d ever heard and quickly disappeared into her room.

  Doreen and Jonah laughed. What went on within the confines of their walls had almost nothing to do with what stalked, hunted, and fed everywhere else on the planet. Especially while they were having a meal together. They were in control of their lives. They weren’t victims, refused to be, and laughter was one of the best weapons to wield against adversity. Doreen began cleaning the dishes at the sink.

  “Want me to help?”

  “No, I want you to sit and relax.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Jonah being who he was, it only took a minute for a familiar necessity to tug at his mind. One that he’d been meaning to get to. So far this morning, he had chopped wood, exercised, listened to the radio, gone over his map, checked on the trucks, examined the lock on the cellar door, and eaten so his belly was full. He’d even gotten a decent night’s sleep and was working on a cup of coffee. All was right in the world. All he had to do now was some paperwork, but his insides weren’t quite ready.

  “This is nice,” he said. “It really is, but I’ve been thinking about a certain mission.”

  “To clear?”

  “Always, but I’m talking about a different kind I’ve been planning, exploring farther than normal. And I want you to be prepared for when I leave.”

  She paused her scrubbing. “How far?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She resumed her scrubbing. “You’re not leaving the country, are you?”

  “No, no. Not that far. I just need to see what’s out there. Beyond the extended perimeter. Briefly.”

  “That you control.”

  “I know it’s dangerous. I do.”

  “When?”

  “Soon. Once there’s a little more snowmelt.”

  “Why?”

  “Gut feeling.”

  “Like in the cave?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you have a bad dream about it?”

  “If I did, I don’t remember. Spring has never begun so early for us since we’ve been here.”

  “There’s still snow on the ground.”

  “And probably a few more snowfalls in the forecast, too, but we can’t deny the time of year. I don’t want us to be overwhelmed by . . . a threat that’s just around the corner, besides the obvious. Something we aren’t aware of. What we don’t know enough about.”

  “Oh. So it’s just a scouting mission?”

  “Mostly. There could be anything out there. Even other food stores, ones I’m not aware of. It’s not as if we’re getting low on what we need, but we probably only have about six months’ worth of food.”

  That was only because they hadn’t been rationing much lately. They ate as much as they wanted, but he didn’t want to say that. Admit it. They really had more than six months’ worth of food, but he was only referring to what was stored in the cellar for the present conversation. Jonah had buried food all over Germany, and most of it would last for years, last them that long, too, but it still wasn’t enough for him to be comfortable. Realistically, no amount would.

  When it came down to it, enough never seemed to be enough, and to limit what they ate would take away from their lives, especially Heike’s. They wanted to make everything as normal for her as possible. They used to be much better at rationing, especially Jonah when he was on his own after Oberstein, but the lack of danger led to a feeling of normalcy, and normal felt good for all three of them. It was difficult not to indulge if you remembered what it was like to be hungry. If they really needed to limit how much they ate each day, they could and they would, but for now it wasn’t necessary.

  “But you hunt,” she said.

  “Yes, but I never know how long I’ll be able to do that.”

  Doreen was quiet for about a minute. “You said briefly. How brief?”

  “About a day or two and be back by one of those nights. I’ll just slide into bed with you. Be back before you know it. You’ll hardly know I was gone.”

  “Then you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

  It was Jonah’s turn to be silent. Doreen dipped the dishes in the second sink filled with hot, steaming water and a rubber stopper at the bottom—for now—and placed the clean dishes on a drying rack set over a towel on the countertop. The water in both sinks was ready to drain downward into pipes, empty into a jug, and then fill separate buckets.

  If there was ever a clog—young girls tended to forget what could go down the drain in a dry cabin and what couldn’t—all Jonah had to do was disassemble the pipes, clear the clog, and put it all back together, which he’d had to a few times. Heike hadn’t made that mistake in a while, though. She was a little older now, showed it in her maturity, had always been a smart girl, and like all women, young or old, had a good memory.

  “What about my father?” Doreen said.

  “Nothing would change. If we did move, we could leave a note or a map for him. I don’t think we’re going to leave any time soon, though. I’m too uncertain about things, and I need some clarity.”

  “Do you want to go back to America?”

  “What?”

  “Once this is all over.”

  Jonah clasped his hands behind his head. “Do you really think that will be possible?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Jonah had many reasons to go back to the States, mostly to seek out his family. For a while, he had also wanted to go back because he wanted to explain to the families of his friends what had happened to them face to face. But he didn’t know if those he intended to speak with were even still alive. Most likely not.

  “Go back? I haven’t really thought about it seriously for a long time. The only reason is for family . . .” He was a
ware that Heike was probably listening, but he always did his best to be honest with her. “Honestly, I don’t even know if they’re still alive.” Jonah’s hands went to his lap to interlock, and he leaned on his knees. “Where’s this coming from?”

  Doreen shrugged. “I’m wondering what the next step is for us. You seem intent to leave.”

  “I’m not, but we’ve been here for—”

  “I know we can’t stay here forever, but how exactly . . . ? This new mission, are you going on foot or by vehicle?”

  “Before we move, I want to know what’s going on in other places.”

  “You didn’t answer me.”

  “By truck. Your dad’s truck. Both trucks are dependable, and as long as I keep the doors locked . . .”

  “Yes, you can drive through them, but almost any vehicle can get overturned by a Behemoth.”

  “Except it’s not them that scare me.”

  “What then?”

  “We have it good here. What I do, what we do, keeps us safe. We’re secluded. But the fact is if a day comes when things change drastically in unforeseeable ways, and we aren’t safe anymore, and we’re forced to leave without knowing where we’re going, we’ll undoubtedly encounter somebody who understands the value of the truck we’d be driving. Not to mention everything we’d have with us. I don’t have to remind you that your dad shot at me when we first met. And that was shortly after the Molting began. I can’t help but think of what people are capable of now.”

  “You think I haven’t thought of that? How stupid do you think I am?”

  Jonah definitely didn’t answer that question. He knew it had just slipped out. Even with all attempted normalcy, the stress of surviving seeped through on occasion. He didn’t say anything for what felt like five minutes. Neither did Doreen. Both doing what men and women did to make a relationship work best, which was to respect each other’s feelings the best they could.

  Heike had no doubt been eavesdropping but had likely gone back to reading by now. Jonah and Doreen didn’t want to argue in front of her even if she was technically in another room. Not ever, if they could help it, even though squabbles had sparked up in the past. They argued in private whenever possible.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “It’s OK.” Again, Jonah thought of Heike and what she must think about everything going on, but he was hardly ever secretive about his missions. “I figure I go out once and get the lay of the land, more east, where I’m unfamiliar. That way, when we do eventually move, I’ll know where to take us.”

  “He’s right, Mom,” Heike said from her room.

  Doreen stared at him. “I know he is, honey,” she called out, “but if he thinks he isn’t taking a radio with him, he’s crazy.”

  Jonah winked at her and finished the last sip of his coffee. “OK. I’ll be back. Coffee and breakfast equals paperwork.”

  “Gross!” Heike said from her room.

  “Heike,” Doreen said.

  CHAPTER 3

  With his binoculars in hand, and with the last snowfall melting, the cocoons looked almost beautiful, practically as noticeable as holiday ornaments as they sagged from the branches of the very large trees they hung from. His shots had been more accurate as of late, which was to say he’d spotted more to destroy. That was helped by the change in season, so it was far easier to notice new ones forming. Heike’s method of recording cocoon placement according to time using the pocket watch, pen, and paper—her present to him during the previous holiday—helped even more for accuracy.

  After some grumbling from a certain little girl, Jonah had finally been allowed to haul the holiday tree out of the cabin. There was only so much space inside their small quarters, so it had been nice to make more room as it had been before. Plus, it made him less nervous not having a dried tree near a burning woodstove. Still, those blasted pine needles still occasionally poked him when he sat down on the couch for weeks afterward. To the amusement of the ladies, he seemed to be the only one it happened to.

  Only the distance the quick-release scope was capable of viewing made it possible for him to clear the territory on foot. If he hadn’t had a scope, he would have been forced to make long treks, which might be perilous and possibly attract unwanted attention, so he made sure he not only was careful with the scope but also kept a lookout for backups. He currently possessed nine extras, but only one was another quick-release. The other scopes would require mounting, one of which already was mounted but on a different bolt-action rifle for Doreen in case there was heavy trouble while he was away.

  Some scopes were in the cellar, but the others he had buried. After the latest mission he was planning, he might not need weapons at all. It would be nice to live in a place where he didn’t have to be armed to the teeth everywhere he went. Even to the outhouse. Even better, he would rather report to a heavily armed community. It would also be nice not to be in charge for a while.

  Though a shot from a rifle caused a tremendous report and could be heard—by other people, if they were in the area, and by Molters—it was brief. Something as big and noisy as a truck engine created continuous sound, so Jonah chose not to drive to the ridges. And it wasn’t as if he stored as much fuel as he did weapons and other supplies. Fuel was something he was forced to ration. Traveling on horseback would have been ideal, but he’d never seen a horse alive since he’d returned to Germany. Plus, it would be difficult to keep one fed, and a tied-up horse would practically be bait to Molters.

  Having any animal outside would no doubt attract attention needlessly. The pigs, chickens, and rabbits raised for food by the citizens of Henrytown came to mind. But the idea of riding a horse had crossed his mind numerous times. Maybe owning one was something that would be possible in the future, when things were safer. He was used to traveling on foot anyway. It was something he’d done for many years now, since he was a younger man, but even Jonah got sore legs and feet every so often, no matter how good of shape he considered himself to be in.

  The melting snow also made it possible to spot grave mounds near the cabin, and Jonah knew the look of them all too well. Not a surprise, he expected them, just not so damn many. The farther away from the cabin he went, the more of them appeared. They practically multiplied with every booted step. Every one of them meant a frightened person had fought for their life only to be sucked dry by one of the bloodthirsty creatures, and the evidence of that was then hidden by burying it underground.

  It wasn’t necessary for him to dig them up to know what had been buried—a desiccated corpse after a Molter fed on it or just a skeleton if the remains had been in the ground long enough. He recognized grave mounds in an instant and would be able to do that for the rest of his life. His best friend, Eric, had ended up as one, killed by the first Molter they had encountered. Grave mounds were something Jonah and Eric had first seen at the hospital in Oberstein, but that was back when the Molting began. Years later, there were far more people who had died than in that town. Still, there were so many mounds near the cabin it was almost as if all mankind had attempted to seek refuge in these mountains. He could only imagine the numbers elsewhere.

  Plus, the mounds were practically invisible when the snow was deep. He couldn’t have seen them. The area hadn’t been free of Molters after all, as he’d originally thought; it had been flooded with them, or at least with people before they’d either been killed or molted. Between when Henry had come across the cabin and their arrival, a large group of men and women—and surely children—had come to get away from what had eventually taken their lives. The Molters found them and fed on them, or Infectors had used them to molt.

  Molters had been relatively scarce around the cabin, aside from a few here and there, even small packs of them, but most likely that was because they’d exhausted the land of those they considered to be prey and moved on years ago. It made the territory practically lifeless, except for Jonah, Doreen, Heike, some rabbits, quite a few birds, and a few lucky deer. Henry had been mostly righ
t; the cabin was safe, but it hadn’t always been that way. Then again what place ever is? And for how long could it last?

  If Molters could hunt down people, which they clearly could, and they could sense when a territory was absent prey and abandon it, then couldn’t the opposite be true? Would they be able to sense where people were living and establish a hunting ground? Or even scarier, reestablish a hunting ground?

  Jonah shook his head at his endless questions and chuckled silently, clouds of his breath visible, breaking the tension. He contemplated the enemy so much he thought that maybe he should write things down. Write a paper or a briefing, something others could eventually read. Not only to explain what he knew about them for his own sanity, like therapy, but also to pass on his knowledge in case he got himself killed.

  He couldn’t very well bother Doreen with every thought that preoccupied his mind. It wasn’t just a physical danger the creatures represented; they also affected people’s behavior, changed them and how they lived their lives, just as every battle for survival in the past had affected those who’d fought. But also those who had survived war.

  The necessary bullets had been fired from the ridge he designated the most necessary for today, the quick-release scope removed from the rifle and put in his black backpack, and he was going home. As he cautiously walked the woods, rifle barrel pointed safely at the ground, he saw what at first he believed to be a tree that had fallen over with its roots sticking out of the ground. He stopped and listened. It sounded like rain in the distance, but he didn’t see or feel any raindrops. Not yet anyway. Maybe there was a storm headed their way?