Dying Days: Origins 2

by Armand Rosamilia

  "What about my family?"

  "I haven't heard a shot since we began talking. Either everyone is dead or they've lost the taste for killing innocent people. But we need to move, because they will come after us, hard," David said. His hope was they'd shot to scare them off because they knew, despite the odds, they were up against someone who knew how to use a gun.

  David looked at Chris. Now that he'd calmed down he wasn't nearly as mad at the man as he'd been, and he hated that he'd lost his cool. He smiled. "We'll head two miles down the road and then pull over. The longer we can relax and get our bearings the better off we're going to be when we return. Saddle up," he said and got into his vehicle. He didn't wait for the old man and the teen to get in before he pulled away.

  "That was a bit harsh," Cheryl said. "Don't get me wrong, I totally get it. But still… we're dealing with civilians who haven't been in these situations before."

  "I know. I lost my cool," David said slowly.

  "It's not about losing your cool, hun. It's about teaching Chris and his family how to survive. And we need to remember, most of the people we meet, especially in these critical first few weeks, are going to need a lot of help." Cheryl tried the radio as David drove. It was just static. "We're also going to need gas sooner than later, especially with what Chris is driving."

  "Agreed. I'm just… we can't save everyone on the road, you know? And let's be realistic. This guy's family is dead, and they aren't coming back. We'll be wasting ammo and time to attack a score of heavily-armed men. I don't like the odds," David said.

  "Then keep driving," Cheryl said simply. "Chris will follow and the old man and his grandson will be forced to join us until they find somewhere else they want to be."

  "Is it that simple?"

  Cheryl shrugged and looked straight ahead out the window. "You tell me."

  "You know me better than I know myself," David said and laughed.

  Cheryl smiled. "It doesn't look like we were followed."

  David pulled over onto the side of a side road they'd been following for over three miles. No sense in stopping too soon. Everyone exited the two vehicles and David herded everyone between his truck and the corn field as a natural barricade.

  "I'm going to make this nice and short. It would be in our best interest to get in our cars and make a run out of here, due south, and find gas. It would make sense to count our losses and thank God we're still alive." He put up his hand when Judy looked like she was going to say something. He glanced at Cheryl, who was covering her mouth. He was sure she was grinning. The woman knew him so well. "But we're not going to run away and leave this man's family for dead. We're going to go back and rescue them." Whoever is actually alive, he thought. Though he doubted he'd find anyone.

  "Then let's go," Chris said. "What are we waiting for?"

  "Nightfall. If we turned back now, they'd hear us coming. We're going to walk back and scout it out before it gets dark. Then we make our move." David turned to the old man and put a hand out. "I'm David. I'm sorry for being so rude."

  "I had it coming. I almost got you and your lovely wife killed. I'm Albert and this is my grandson, Vern."

  "We'll need the general layout of your property and the fields in the area. Position of where the militia is setup and how many we can expect with guns. I need to know who might be alive in your family and where they usually stay." David turned to his wife. "Can you get Albert a pen and something to write on? I think we're going to be here for a few hours so we might as well be productive."

  "I'm going to walk back and make sure we're not being followed," Cheryl said. She turned to Chris. "Grab a rifle and walk with me."

  Chris looked at his wife, who frowned and went back to the car with their kids.

  David knew Cheryl was asking him to walk so she could show him the proper way to scout behind but Judy was the jealous type. This was going to get interesting, as they worked with the family to survive.

  Vern, Albert's grandson, went over to the car and began talking with the girls. Judy looked defensive at first but quickly relaxed and stared at David.

  "How are you holding up?" he asked Judy.

  "Fine." She walked over, kicking rocks. "Actually, that's bullshit." She looked back to see if her kids had heard her. "I'm not doing well at all. This is so new to me."

  "To all of us. We need to keep our heads and stick together. Chris is a good man, but he needs to get a crash course in survival. He needs to protect you and the children," David said.

  "I know. It's just…" Judy smiled. "I really need to pee."

  David held out his rifle. "Take this and go into the corn. Fifteen paces and no more. Straight ahead. Duck behind a stalk but make sure you can see the car and truck at all times."

  "I'm scared."

  "That's normal," David said. "The fear will keep you from becoming complacent and forgetting to keep alert. It will keep you alive."

  "I home school my kids," she said.

  "You can still do it."

  "I did it because I wanted to keep them away from the horrible world outside our doors. I wanted to shield them from drugs and peer pressure and smoking and pedophiles and pollution and… I did them a disservice."

  "You did what you thought was right as a mother," David said.

  "You and your wife don't have kids?"

  David shook his head. "We didn't think it practical just yet. It was in the plan but not for another couple of years." He smiled. "We were too busy collecting guns and ammo to worry about offspring. I didn't even have a pet, because if a situation like this arose we'd have to make some tough choices I never wanted to have to make."

  "Would you have done it all differently if you'd had kids?"

  David looked down the road, where Cheryl and Chris were still in sight. "No. I think we would've still done everything the same. Who knew this shit would really ever happen? You see TV shows and read books but it isn't real. None of it."

  "But here we are."

  "And we need to keep moving and keep ahead of the horde," David said. "We've monitored it successfully so far."

  "What's the ultimate safe haven?"

  David shrugged. "We're heading due south and east. I imagine Florida will be our final stop. Where we make our stand. Who knows if anything will even be there by the time we arrive, or if we'll get caught behind the lines and not be able go south? All we can do is keep moving."

  "Chris said you had a cabin in Canada."

  "We do. It's more of a bunker, actually. Well-stocked with provisions. The food and water will last us months. Enough ammo and animal traps as well. It has a fresh water stream emptying into an enclosed area and wooden and chain-link fencing surrounding it for a square mile. You could walk right past it and never know we were there." David sighed. "And we have no choice but to head the wrong way."

  Chapter Five

  Chris stopped walking when he realized Cheryl was no longer next to him. He spun around and she had her rifle aimed to the corn field on their left.

  "What is it?"

  "Shh," she said. "Follow me. Gun drawn in the air. Shut up."

  Chris obeyed. He was going to make a conscious effort to learn from Cheryl and David. He needed to protect his family.

  He started walking through the field when Cheryl stopped and pointed behind her. Chris shrugged. He had no idea what she meant.

  "Get behind me and walk in my steps. You're making too much noise and moving the corn stalks. If anyone is watching us, we're about to get shot. And slump down so you're not as big a target," Cheryl said quietly before turning back around and moving again.

  Chris got behind her, watching to see where she was stepping. He marveled at how fast but silent she could move. The corn stalks she touched barely swayed and looked like the breeze had pushed them.

  He was so intent on watching where she stepped he walked right into her, but she didn't go down. In fact, he bounced back. Holy shit is she tough, Chris thought.

  Cheryl turned her head and
glared at him. She motioned for him to stay put and he understood it. Cheryl pulled out a knife and handed it to Chris. "Do not shoot," she said and holstered her pistol. Another knife, this one longer, appeared in her hand. She kept moving and looking back after a few feet to make sure Chris wasn't following. She shook her head and put her hands down until he crouched.

  I'm going to get this, he thought. One of these days. Hopefully before I'm killed.

  Cheryl was already gone and he strained to see if any of the stalks were moving.

  To his left he heard something moving through the field. There was no way it was her, because the person moving wasn't attempting to hide the noise.

  And it was getting closer to Chris, who had the knife in one hand and the gun in the other. He knelt down, thinking he could hide from whoever it was and also, maybe, he could see them before they saw him. Where was Cheryl?

  Through the rows of corn stalks, he saw a pair of feet.

  It was someone just walking through the field like they didn't have a care in the world. And they were heading in his general direction. He decided to walk toward where he last saw Cheryl and see if he could distance himself from whoever it was.

  Chris took two steps and stepped down on rotting husks, which snapped like brittle twigs. The sound was deafening.

  When he bent back down and looked for the feet, he wasn't surprised to see they were heading in his direction now. Chris was sweating, the gun and knife slick in his hands. Where was Cheryl? He wanted to call out to her but knew she'd kill him. It was already obvious she didn't really like him. This was only going to make it worse.

  The person stepped out from between the stalks and headed directly toward Chris, who now saw it was a zombie. An actual dead person walking and staring at him with dead eyes. Cold, dead hands at his side. Who was he before all this? Was he a local? Did Albert and Vern know him? Was he a family member or a neighbor, wandering his fields for eternity and looking for human flesh?

  Chris raised the pistol but remembered Cheryl had told him not to use it. A gunshot would make too much noise. What if there were others in the corn field? He tucked the gun in his waistband like he'd seen on television but it wasn't comfortable. The gun felt like it was going to fall down his pants.

  The zombie was only a few feet away and coming right at him. Chris could see dried blood on his chin and the front of his plaid shirt. His eyes didn't blink, which was unnerving to Chris.

  "Stay back," he said, knowing how stupid it sounded. He waved the knife in his sweaty hand in what he hoped was a threatening manner. And then dropped it to the ground.

  Chris fell to his knees to retrieve it but he couldn't see the knife. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit…

  The zombie stepped on the downed husks on the ground in front of Chris, the crunching sound reminding Chris of what his bones would sound like when the zombie was done breaking them.

  "Idiot," Cheryl mumbled as she stepped from out of the cover of the corn and rammed her knife into the zombie's face, killing it. "Get up," she said to Chris before turning and walking away. "Stay with me."

  Chris, embarrassed, retrieved his knife and ran to Cheryl. "Excuse me."

  "Stop talking."

  "No. I will not. We need to talk," Chris said. "Right here and right now."

  "What?" Cheryl asked, spinning on her heels and approaching Chris. "Do you want to have a chat? Talk about the weather? The football game? Where the kids will go to college? We don't have time for this shit. Or for you making anymore noise."

  "What did I do to make you hate me so quickly?" Chris asked.

  Cheryl looked shocked at the question but quickly recovered and frowned. "What are you talking about? I don't hate you… it's just… we need to keep moving."

  "And I'm slowing you down?" Chris asked.

  "Yes… no… forget it."

  "I won't forget it. I am really grateful for the help you and David have shown my family. You really have saved our lives, but I'm not a child. I also won't be patronized and looked down on. If you have something to say, just say it already," Chris said.

  "I'm sorry," Cheryl said. "If I'm treating you coldly, I apologize. But I'm not going to die out here because of your stupidity. Get your head out of your ass. And your wife, too. She's sitting back in your car doing a fucking crossword puzzle while I'm out in the literal field killing zombies. And you'll draw every one of them in a hundred mile radius because you can't adapt and listen to what we're saying. You need to get your shit together. Not for you but for your daughters, who won't last an hour by themselves." Cheryl shook her head. "Neither will you or your wife. Right now David and I are keeping you alive, so shut up and pay attention to the lessons. I don't want to become a zombie because you couldn't figure simple shit out. Are we clear? It isn't because I hate you. I don't know you. I could care less about you other than you're still here to keep me alive. Got it? Everything else means absolute shit."

  Chris could only nod his head.

  "Are we done wasting time?" Cheryl asked before walking away without waiting for an answer.

  Chris followed her back to the road, where they walked on the side near the fields. Cheryl stopped every hundred feet or so and cocked her head to listen. Chris got into the rhythm of her movement, and eventually was doing the same a second before she was, calculating her movements.

  Cheryl got to an intersection and stared at Chris. "You're getting it. I'm going this way, and you're staying here. I'll be gone ten minutes. No more. If I don't come back, you run back to David and let him know. Got it?"

  Chris gave her a thumb's up and moved off to the side of the road while Cheryl began jogging away. He thought she was being condescending when she said he was getting it, but he wasn't going to argue. "Damn prepper nature freaks," he mumbled. "I'm sorry I spend my time watching TV after a long day at work, instead of canning fruits and vegetables and practicing my archery."

  He worried about his family. Could they survive in this world? He knew he was too soft. Judy coddled the girls too much. They had no real world experience. So far Allie and Edy had been quiet. He hoped it wasn't because they were shell-shocked. Chris needed to have a talk with the three as soon as they got a moment alone, maybe tonight. Before something really bad happened.

  Chris didn't like Cheryl. David was nice enough but Chris could tell the man had no patience for weak people, and Chris was the weakest around right now. Even the old man, Albert, seemed like a cunning old codger. Chris didn't trust him or his grandson, but he knew David didn't either. Not completely. How could they? The old man had tried to set them up. Maybe even now they were being set up. Chris didn't like it but he had no real vote in what they were going to do. At this point, he was driving his family around, chasing after the prepper couple in their super truck and trying not to die.

  Cheryl came back in under six minutes. "Nothing that way. I'm going to see where this way leads."

  Chris turned away when she started jogging, because she was sweaty and bouncing and… he loved his wife, but knew taking a peek at a hot woman wasn't going to get him in too much trouble. Although, if he got caught, he was sure Cheryl would slowly break each of his fingers and gouge out his eyes.

  He decided to look at anything but her chest from this moment forward.

  Chapter Six

  David smiled in the darkness. It was a clear night and with the half moon above he could see clearly, from their hiding spot, to the farmhouse, but it wasn't bright enough to deny them shadows to move through.

  And the sounds of nature were loud and present, too. Frogs from a pond somewhere nearby were croaking and cicadas filled the gaps between. The wind ruffled the corn stalks surrounding the farm, too.

  When he heard the owl, he smiled. Cheryl was in place on the opposite side, with Vern, and it meant she hadn't encountered anyone on guard duty around the perimeter. Those inside were either too arrogant to post a guard or they had something up their sleeves. David wasn't going to make a mistake and think they could
walk right up to the front door.

  Albert was with him. David wanted the man and his grandson in his sight at all times. He'd already casually mentioned to both, if they tried anything to jeopardize their positions or let anyone know they were coming, he would kill both of them. Cheryl had added she wouldn't shoot them in the head so she could then shoot them in the head when they became zombies. God, I love that woman, David thought.

  After the field incident, they'd left Chris behind, with Judy and the three kids, to protect them. David hoped nothing happened, because he didn't trust the man. He knew Cheryl was just about done with Chris, too. He'd proven he was a liability, but David couldn't abandon the Everson family. Especially now.

  One thing at a time. They needed to get moving and take this house before anyone was the wiser. "You ready?" David asked Albert.

  The old man nodded. He looked absolutely terrified.

  "We're going to get to the porch on the south side of the house. You stay to my right so I can see you at all times. Do not fall behind. I will warn you again: this is not a game. I will kill you, and anyone who crosses me."

  "I get it." Albert put up his hands. "I am not going to do anything stupid. I promise."

  David didn't say anything. He just got up and motioned for Albert to start moving. The two men went across the field quietly, getting to the side of the house without anyone yelling and raising an alarm.

  From this angle on the side of the porch, David could stick his head up and see candlelight through the slats nailed to the windows.

  "Do I get a weapon?" Albert whispered.

  David shook his head. Handing the man a gun would be a stupid move. It would then be easy for Albert to turn on him. As it was, David was waiting for Albert to call out or run for the front door at any moment.

  Satisfied he wasn't going to do it or was waiting for the right moment, or was too chicken-shit, David stood and slid onto the porch under the railing. He kept to his belly and went closer to the window.