And the Blood Ran Black

by Nathan E. Harvey

  Back outside, the world seemed unbearably bright. The rain had dissipated, but the cold remained. During the few hours they had been underground, the temperature had seemingly dropped by twenty degrees. Though they were all improperly dressed and freezing, the group moved on as quietly as they could from the growing hoard across the hill. Once out into an opened clearing, they paused to rest and plot out their next move.

  Brooke listened as the brothers bounced several ideas off one other, none of which seemed very appealing to her at all. The unfortunate sequence of events had significantly limited their list of available options. She loathed the fact that all of their careful planning and execution had landed them in a place perhaps no better than if they’d wandered aimlessly in the wilderness in the first place. She thought to herself that, ultimately, their only option was to wander in search of food and warmth. Feeling as low as she had since her sister’s death, Brooke sat silently and hugged on Hillary, trying in vain to keep them both warm. Smelling smoke, Brooke looked up through the gap in the trees above, fully expecting to see smoke plumes from a rapidly approaching wildfire. Brooke was instead greeted by the most vibrant rainbow she’d ever observed. Hillary saw Brooke staring up, and was thrilled with the sight.

  “Hey, look,” the young girl pointed up. “Do you think it means God is gonna help us, like after the flood?”

  “Unfortunately, kiddo, God didn’t choose to do this like he did the flood,” John said. “People did this, and I don’t know if God is very happy with all of us right now.”

  Hillary looked to Brooke for confirmation.

  “I sure hope He helps us,” Brooke said. “We could really use it about now.”

  “You want to pray with me?” Hillary asked Brooke. “Whenever we need God, we’re s’pose to pray.”

  “Sure, I don’t see why not,” Brooke smiled. “But we have to be really quiet while the guys think, okay?”

  Hillary smiled and bowed her head, folding her hands in the most stereotypical prayer stance. Brooke watched Hillary until the girl looked up to confirm that she too had closed her eyes. Together, the two sat silently with heads bowed.

  While they still prayed, a faint squeaking noise became audible. Timber growled but remained relatively calm as the slow, consistent squeak was seemingly just out of sight and approaching. Brooke anticipated that the sound was soon going to emerge from the trees just down the hill from where they sat and abruptly halted Hillary’s prayer. The group all watched anxiously as a lone zombie emerged from the brush and wandered aimlessly, still not having sensed them.

  The zombie wore nothing other than its hiking boots, tattoos, and large backpack. John couldn’t envision a scenario that would’ve resulted in the zombie losing all of its clothes while managing to keep the pack on, except that the hiker had been naked even before death. Hillary stared curiously at the grotesque sight until Brooke instinctively covered her eyes. The effort seemed vain, considering the other atrocities Hillary had already been calloused to over the past several weeks. This one, though, was particularly disturbing. One arm was dragging a hiking pole by the wrist strap, and the other arm had been severed at the elbow. Its previously slender stomach had puffed out significantly from the gaseous buildup of decomposition. The belly landed, in John’s estimation, somewhere between that of an impressive beer belly and that of a nine-month pregnant woman. Perhaps most notable of its injuries was the gaping hole in its head. An apparent gunshot had blown off a portion of the thing’s skull, leaving a gut-wrenching black ooze of a crater. The wound was significant, but somehow the thing still walked.

  John quickly finished the job and disposed of the lone zombie after he’d confirmed that no others were in close proximity. Moto walked over and began rummaging through the thing’s backpack. Inside, he found a few much needed granola bars, matches, moleskin, water purification tablets, some headphones, and a journal.

  The group shared a modest lunch while dividing up the man’s belongings amongst themselves. Moto claimed the headphones to go along with his own phone, should he find a way to charge it. Brooke applied moleskin to her and Hillary’s blisters. John thumbed through the journal, noting a few interesting posts of observations and speculation about the outbreak and decided it would be worth keeping. As he finished flicking through the pages, John spotted a hand drawn map inside the book’s back cover. Though the drawing had been significantly smudged by rainwater, the remaining legible sections showed landmarks, a dotted line, and an X--just like a treasure map.

  “Check this out,” John said, rotating the book toward the others. “What do you think it leads to?”

  “I think I can read some of it,” Moto squinted at the unintelligible blotches of text. ‘Reoccurring dream where I’m one of them… can feel the pain they must feel… in my joints, my stomach’s relentless ache, my absence of a heartbeat…considering ending it just so I can be sure that… family is surely gone… don’t intend to find out if the nightmares were a foreshadowing of my ultimate fate.’

  “None of it is about the map?” Brooke peered at the page between the brothers.

  “Nothing,” John frowned. “Just a note from before he uh...”

  “The zombies still hurt?” Hillary asked. “Is that why they’re always groaning?”

  “No, no they’re completely gone,” Moto turned to comfort the eavesdropping little girl. “The real person is already in heaven. It’s just an empty body walking around.”

  “Hey, do you think that’s the three peaks above the river that we saw before? When you were tracking the deer?” Brooke asked John, pointing to one of the few surviving landmarks indicated on the map.

  “If it is, we might be able to find our “X” after all,” John nodded. “Even without the other clues, this will give us a solid point of reference with the hills in relation to what I can only assume was supposed to be the river.”

  “C’mon, Hillary!” Brooke called out with a renewed optimism. “Let’s go find your answered prayer!”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

  After a grueling hike, they all stood looking down from atop the “trinity hills”, as they’d come to refer to the formation next to the treasure map’s final destination. From there, they not only found the reason they’d been smelling smoke all day, but it was also possible for them to look out across the expansive terrain, surveying the area for what the map’s “X” might have been indicating. In the distance, massive plumes of smoke could be seen rising up and suffocating the majority of the sky. In some sections, a warm orange glow flickered from below the looming darkness, in all likelihood indicating that the fires were still actively expanding and engulfing the countryside. What had previously felt like a typical overcast fall sunset now loomed as an ominous floating mountain of ash blotting out the late afternoon sun. Though they didn’t appear to be in immediate danger, the fires did indicate just how bad things were becoming around the larger cities that had been targeted.

  “Is that fire from the airstrikes you think?” Moto asked between violent coughs. “Is it just gonna keep spreading?”

  “Until it burns itself out, I suppose,” John said. “I don’t see anyone intervening. And why would they? It’s just burning out all the zombies as far as the people in D.C. are concerned.”

  “Well for our sakes, I guess we just pray for more rain,” Brooke said. “Thank goodness the ground here is as wet as it is.”

  “You’re dead on,” Moto said. “Remember those wildfires a few years back? The ash from California covered up half the country. Imagine the damage if they strike up fires in all the major cities and just let them burn free. There won’t be any crops to find or any animals to hunt before long. The world would become a pretty impossible place to live.

  “In the short term, I just hope that fire isn’t going to drive all the zombies toward us,” John said softly enough that Hillary couldn’t hear. “I wonder if that’s why so many were coming up on us at the cave.”

  “Well, let’s find this ‘X’
first off,” Moto said, pausing to cough. “At least maybe that can help us with one of the impending dooms on our list.”

  “I knew there wasn’t a house anywhere out here,” John said with a sigh, surveying the lower area behind them. “We would’ve seen it before if there was anything that size. I just figured there must be something worth finding if it’s worth drawing out on a map.”

  “Maybe it was just a weapon or food stockpile that someone else already found,” Moto said. “There’s no telling how long that hiker had been dead.”

  “Well, standing up here and flapping our gums isn’t gonna answer any questions,” Brooke said as she worked her way down the hill with Hillary in tow.

  Before following, John and Moto took one more look with the map from their high vantage point to pick out what area they’d use as the center of their search.

  They could tell decently by a distinct curve of the river that they were very near their target area but found nothing more than a few small clearings in the trees. An extensive search of the immediate area surfaced nothing of note, and as their stomachs began to grow into knots from hunger, their emotions also began to tighten.

  “The whole thing is so smudged we could be miles away for all we know,” Moto grumbled. “That freaking map could be pointing to a damned dog house the next county over, while we’re out here digging through the leaves.”

  Moto stopped his rant abruptly upon noticing a few flecks of white stuck in the hairs of his arm. He looked up, along with Brooke and John to see that the smoke was inching ever closer, and the ash had already begun its descent back to earth.

  “Does this mean the winds changed?” Moto asked with wide eyes.

  John and Brooke made unsure eye contact and gave Moto no response.

  “Snow!” Hillary exclaimed, with her chin raised and her tongue extended.

  “No, sweetie, stop. That’s ashes,” Brooke said, brushing the flakes off of the little girl’s hair and jacket.

  Unfazed, the little girl shrugged and skipped over to a small limb to initiate a game of fetch with Timber as the adults reconvened. Before long, one of Hillary’s throws wound up in a thicker patch of vegetation that even Timber didn’t deem worth the effort to retrieve. Instead of simply picking a new stick, though, Hillary slowly trudged her way through the wall of sticks and leaves in order to reach their toy. Suddenly, she jumped back and began sobbing, as Timber looked on with visible concern.

  “Was it a snake?” Brooke asked, rushing over.

  John inspected the small wound on the girl’s shin. “Probably just some bramble briars.”

  “Try again,” Moto called from where Hillary had been injured. “Barbed wire.”

  Closer inspection of the area revealed large amounts of sharp wire, and even trip lines attached to empty soda cans. Though their efforts were slowed without the benefit of gloves, it eventually became clear that the wall of vegetation was also placed intentionally surrounding a decent sized area. A mound of bricks hinted at a fallen chimney. In the center of it all was a small square section that didn’t fit with the area surrounding it. The reason became obvious when Moto reached down and swiped away at the flat section of ash and leaves to reveal a square area of particle board. Beneath the board was a metal, hinged door with a small handle.

  “Please, God, be a prepper,” John said, before Moto yanked at the heavy door.

  An awful concoction of aromas arose from the hole which housed a ladder similar to that of a manhole.

  “Sewers?” Brooke asked, holding her nose.

  “Out here? Doubt it,” Moto laughed before succumbing to a coughing fit.

  “I’ll check it out,” John said, with his shirt collar pulled up over his nose, already putting his foot to the ladder.

  Moments later he returned with a large smile spread across his face.

  “It might have to air out a little, but I think we found what we’ve been looking for. It’s a sure ‘nough bunker full of supplies and everything.”

  John fielded their excited questions as best he could while searching through some limbs and leaves several feet from the hatch before merrily shoving away a large fallen tree branch from a pipe protruding from the soil.

  “It has an exhaust vent,” he explained, “but there’s no power to the fan. Hopefully, just opening up this pipe will give it a chance to air out some.”

  “Did the food all go bad or something?” Brooke asked.

  “I don’t really think so,” John frowned. “It looked more like the last tenant chose not to come outside… at all. So you can imagine the buildup of a mess he left.”

  “I hope you mean trash,” Brooke said.

  “Well, yeah, there’s that. And then there’s the matter of the poop.”

  “Not it!” Moto said with a smile and a raised hand, despite his deteriorating condition.

  “Not it!” Hillary mimicked.

  John and Brooke exchanged an uncomfortable glance.

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

  The amount of ash falling in the area slowed, and once John had emptied the buckets of excrement, the putrid aroma dispersed rather quickly. The group shoveled food into their faces by the fistful until their swollen stomachs were repulsed by the offer of another bite. They began sorting through some of their new embarrassment of riches with one the working flashlights they’d already come across in the bunker. Many of the items would’ve been a tremendous help if there’d been electricity, such as a radio, satellite phones, fans, and space heaters, not to mention lights. John knew the cell towers would quit working without power, but was unsure if the satellites were self-sufficient enough to have lasted this long.

  Shockingly, John’s ears perked up to the sound of an all too familiar ba da ding which indicated a cell phone had begun charging. He turned to find Moto standing by the edge of shelves with his child-like grin being illuminated by his cell phone’s glow.

  “Dude, I’m gonna get to listen to my music for the first time in forever!” Moto said without breaking the smile.

  “Where did you find power?” John asked.

  “I just plugged my phone into this big battery with an AC outlet. Somehow it’s still holding a charge!”

  “There’s no way,” John said. “No way that battery hasn’t died down here in the cold.”

  “Tell that to my phone,” Moto said.

  “Well, okay. We’ll take what we can get, I guess,” John said happily as he began inspecting the battery more closely. “Wait a second. Where does this wire run to?”

  John climbed back up to the surface and found where the battery’s wire resurfaced inside a small PVC conduit. The pipe ran along the ground some ways before ending at a decent sized solar panel that had been covered by ash. Laying down in the brush nearby was a yellow traffic sign with two caution lights. Someone had repurposed the sign’s solar panel and battery to bring electricity into the bunker.

  “Don’t waste all the juice!” John yelled down to Moto. “I know you think of music as a priority, but it’s only a small solar panel. We’re not gonna be able to re-charge the battery until all these clouds and ash move out. Let’s save it for a heater or light or something.”

  Moto glanced down to see that his phone had been charged more than enough to listen to his music for a bit and unplugged the phone without argument. Moto plugged in the hiker’s earbuds and walked to the next room where he took full advantage of a vacant cot and was soon sleeping soundly. After finding nothing stored in the bunker that was of any interest to her, Hillary followed suit by climbing into a small bean bag in the corner and immediately fell asleep with Timber curled up at her feet.

  While familiarizing themselves with their new shelter and sorting out the still useful items, John and Brooke’s stomachs recovered enough that they decided to raid the stock of alcohol that had been stored in a locked cabinet above the now useless microwave. While quietly re-locating an armful of useless supplies into the back room, John noticed that Moto had become even more feverish an
d was visibly shivering. He stretched out another blanket over his brother, though John wasn’t optimistic that it would make any difference.

  “We might have to take some precautions,” John said to Brooke. “I don’t know how much longer Moto’s gonna be able to hold on. I’m starting to admit to myself that it’s probably just a matter of time.”

  “Don’t give up on him yet,” Brooke said while scratching John’s back. “He’s too stubborn to give in to whatever this is. He’s already lived ten times longer than anyone else we’ve seen after being infected.”

  “I don’t know what I’ll do without him if he can’t beat this. I’ve never had to know life without him. He’s always been wherever I’ve gone. I can’t picture a life without that. I don’t want to,” John said softly before downing what remained of his glass.

  “I felt the exact same way about my sister before…” Brooke said. “Now, I doubt that any of my family or friends are alive. It’s a hard thing to admit to yourself. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

  “I just wish my mom could’ve met you,” John said. “I know it sounds pretty stupid, but I feel like that would’ve made it easier to lose her.”

  “It sounds extremely stupid,” Brooke laughed. “And I feel exactly the same way. I could not wait until the day I could hand my mom her first grandchild. I never even considered that she might not even be around to meet the man of my life.”

  “Man of your life, huh?”

  “Well, for now, at least. Man of my life unless a better option comes along.”

  “Unless you don’t mind ridiculously bad skin, my chances are getting better by the minute.”

  Brooke gave an obviously forced smile.