by W. A. R.
“I don’t know Brian.” She whispered harshly, and the creature still heard her, jerking his attention to her again. “Something isn’t right.” She whispered, almost frightened, and she was correct. Miles could feel it too. He lifted his arm, pressing against her chest but never taking his eyes off of the creature before them.
“Get in the truck.” He told the both of them, and Amber took a step back. The Biter snapped his lifeless eyes to Miles and he positioned himself in front of Amber, glancing sideways at Brian. “Brian! Get in the truck!”
Brian lifted his gun, ignoring Miles. “I got it.” He muttered and before Miles could think the Biter turned his focus to Brian and his gun. Within a split second the Biter was moving. Miles shoved Amber back as the Biter advanced towards Brian, whose eyes widened in fear and shock. He fired the gun, missing completely as the creature moved. The creature acted as if sensing his danger and that thought flashed through Miles’s panicked mind before he acted.
The abomination was running; its main focus was Brian. Miles’s blood froze and he rushed to the back of the truck, pulling one of his two pistols from its holster on his hip. Amber moved quickly, removing her gun as well. The Biter reached Brian in seconds and slammed him painfully against the truck, snapping his teeth at Brian. The Biter gripped Brian’s shirt and Brian shoved at him, yelling with the effort it was taking to merely keep the creature’s teeth from reaching his flesh. Brian’s feet kicked loosely at the dirt beneath him and he was unable to gain his balance; he was held up solely because of the Biter’s grip on him. Miles rounded the back of the truck on quick feet, Amber rounding the front. Miles lifted his gun and fired, skimming the Biter’s head. The monster stopped and jerked his attention to Miles, cocking his head to the side.
“Oh shit.” Miles muttered as the Biter released Brian, who fell to the ground. The Biter stood, growling at Miles while Brian scrambled on his knees to his gun. Amber appeared from the front of the truck, removing her leather jacket and gripping the length of it between both hands. Miles took a step back, hoping to draw the Biter’s attention. Fear escalated and pounded in his system.
It worked.
The Biter took off in a run, Amber hot on his trail, his focus entirely on Miles. Miles didn’t run. Instead, he waited, watching nervously as the creature advanced on him. Amber jumped and wrapped her jacket around the mouth of the monster, pulling it tight as they tumbled on the ground. She didn’t let it go, and she shrieked with the force of it. He gnawed at the fabric and Miles rushed forward when she rolled one last time, forcing the creature onto its stomach. She whimpered as she put all of her weight into her knee that was pressed against his back and pulled back on her jacket, lifting his head from the ground.
“Shoot it!” she shouted through her teeth. The Biter struggled against her and then suddenly he just…stopped. His head dropped, his fingers quit clawing at the dirt; it was as if a switch had been turned off. Miles reached Amber, Brian on his way. Amber was breathing heavily, and slowly she dropped the jacket from her hands. The Biter’s head landed against the ground with a thud. Brian helped her up as she scrambled away from it, her hands shaking. Miles studied it. It was completely unmoving, its jaundiced eyes staring into oblivion. He kicked it. Nothing. It was dead.
“What in the hell was that?!” Brian exclaimed, glancing frantically around them for any more creatures of similar skill. Amber chest was heaving and worry coated her features.
“Is it dead?” she asked as if she couldn’t really believe it. Miles stepped back towards the pair. His heart hammered in his chest.
“I…I think so.” He swallowed against the emotion running through him. Adrenaline was pulsing through him and he knew he was shaking. “And it was a Biter…”
“It fucking ran!” Brian shouted and Miles shared a look with Amber that he immediately understood. It sensed danger as well. She had caught it; he had caught it. He shuddered at the thought. It simply wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. “And how did it die?”
It was a good question, and one that Miles didn’t have an answer to. “I’m not sure; he just…died.” Brian stepped away from Amber and ran a hand through his hair. Miles noted the bite mark on the creature’s left shoulder and instinctively he glanced at Amber’s knee, seeing a bloodstain coat her knee from where she held it down. She crossed her arms and stared at the monster as Brian advanced it. A gunshot echoed against the trees around them as Brian put a bullet into the Biter’s head.
He glanced between Amber and Miles. “Just in case. He’s dead now for sure.” And with that he turned to the truck. “Let’s get the fuck outta here before anymore come up.” He said and Amber turned to look at Miles before shuddering and making her way towards the truck. Miles followed slowly behind, attempting to reign in his racing heart and his overwhelmed mind. What in the hell had just happened?
Later that evening, Amber sat on the porch swing, her music box in her hands, Brian sat in the living room sharpening his knife blade, and Miles walked around checking the perimeter. They had gotten home and had discussed what had happened with the others. It was the first that anyone had seen or heard of such a thing. It heightened their fear and Miles immediately felt as if they should have kept it to themselves.
What if there are more?
What happens next time?
New fear and new heightened paranoias; not that Miles could blame them. The entire thing had scared him senseless. He had never come against an actual predator like that. But still, in order to save the rest of the family anguish and worry they had dropped the subject, deciding to discuss it later that night after everyone else with the exception of George and Shelly had gone to bed. Looking up at the rising moon, he knew it was about that time. Slowly, he made his way to the front of the house, and upon rounding the corner of the house, he saw that everyone else was already on the porch, waiting for him. Brian’s face washed over with relief at the sight of him and Miles forced a smile.
“Alright, what really happened?” Shelly asked pointedly, seemingly irritated. She didn’t believe it, and possibly thought it was their idea of scaring the kids for fun or even scaring them for fun. He sighed and Brian began the story for the second time that day. Slowly, Miles made his way towards the swing where Amber sat, watching George’s and Shelly’s reactions to what they were being told. He eased down beside her, remembering everything that Brian was describing. He watched the fear hit Shelly’s face like a slap and she turned red. She began firing questions at them. Are there more? What else did you see? Do you think there could be more? Miles wasn’t sure about that last question. It was possible he reasoned, but at the same time it was like a horrible nightmare.
“What should we do?” George asked gently, firmly believing them but not letting the worry control him. Amber sighed then, and he knew she was so very tired.
“What can we do?” she asked and no one answered. She exhaled heavily and continued. “All we can do is wait, see if there are anymore. We’ve never seen it before…so maybe it was just a one-time thing. The kids shouldn’t go out without an adult from now on either. I’d feel better that way. It was fast.” And Miles found himself agreeing with her. She was right yet again. All they could really do as a precaution was keep an eye out whenever outside the fence…not that they were going that far again anytime soon.
“There isn’t anything we can do but be more careful and keep an eye out.” He said and he watched as Brian nodded, opening his mouth to speak again.
Miles felt his mind drift away to the events of that day as the others continued talking. He thought back to the music box that now rested between him and Amber. He thought about the family of corpses locked away in a room for eternity; immortalized in all of their innocence with the exception of the father, the husband. He remembered the smell of it all, the sight, and the sick feeling that settled itself in the pit of his stomach because of it all.
“I’m glad you are all alright.” Shelly interrupted his thoughts, her voice tired. She step
ped forward and gripped Brian’s shirt in her hands, pulling him to her. Brian wrapped his arms around her and Miles saw Amber grin lightly in the moonlight at the sight. “And since there isn’t anything we can do, I think you should all get some rest. George and I will do patrol tonight.” She said and George nodded vaguely at her suggestion. They all nodded and bid Shelly and George goodnight after a few minutes. Brian slowly made his way up the stairs and Miles aimed for the living room, wishing to rest by the fire for a little while before falling into his normal restless slumber. Amber escaped into her bedroom, and he slowly undid his holster and guns, laying them on the coffee table. He then shed his jacket, placing it next to them before lowering himself into the recliner. He kept his boots on, unsure of whether or not he was ready to take them off just yet. He was debating this whenever Amber appeared in the doorway.
“Hey.” He addressed her, sitting up in his chair. He would be a liar if he said he wasn’t worried about her. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the notice of something in her hands. “Are you alright?” he asked and she smiled at him.
“Yeah. As fine as I can be.” She told him, stepping forwards. “Are you?”
He shrugged. “Same.” He offered by way of an answer.
She shifted on her feet before edging towards him. “I just wanted to give you something. I told you I like to find something for everyone.”
“Yeah?” He replied, confused and yet at the same time his heart had picked up its pace. He swallowed, his mouth having gone dry.
“Well,” she began, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and he smiled at her despite himself. The fire danced across her face and he wished for just a moment he could tell her how much he admired her. “I brought this with me when we left to come here. It was yours anyways…but…here.” She said roughly, thrusting something at him.
He eyed her cautiously before glancing at the item in her hand. He reached up and slowly took it from her. It was an envelope, faded and yellow, thick with paper in it. It had been opened multiple times, worn from use. He turned it over, seeing her name and an address in the top left corner, and his own name and his old address in the center. There was a stamp with a red return to sender stamp underneath it on the right. He jerked his gaze to where she had been only to see that she had disappeared. He scanned the living room for her, finding her in the doorway, watching him with a genuine smile on her face.
“Thank you for the music box.” She said softly before disappearing into the darkness of the house, her fingers sliding along the doorframe behind her.
He watched her leave and even after she left, he stared at the point of the room where she had been until he felt his heartrate slow. Slowly, as he was cautious and afraid he would tear the old, stiff paper, he opened the envelope and removed a single, folded sheet of notebook paper. His eyes were riveted to the trembling of his fingers as they unfolded the paper, the sight of black ink coming into focus through his blurred vision. He couldn’t stop the moisture from leaving his mouth, making it hard to swallow and he couldn’t stop the weight from resting on his shoulders. Holding the paper between his deft fingers, he read words she had written to him long before…words he had never gotten:
Miles Preston,
All this time, what I was waiting for and still am waiting for…is you.
Chapter Thirteen
A month later
Brian turned over in his bed and reached for Shelly. His hands skimmed the old sheets and he only felt the cold spot where the sheets were. Eyes still closed he furrowed his eyebrow in confusion. Where would she have gone? He asked himself. His eyes were heavy and it was a sheer force of will that they opened. He groaned as he sat up and threw his legs over the side, reaching for the jeans that lay on the floor at his feet. His body told him he didn’t want to move but his mind told him that he needed to. He stood, pulling the jeans on and grabbing a shirt before rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Shelly!” he called out for her, grabbing his pistol and knives that rested on the nightstand. They scraped against the wood, and that was all he heard. He rolled his neck, easing the tension from it. He had been feeling the tension lately; it stemmed from Shelly and her withdrawing from him; it stemmed from the vast amount of Biters that had been coming to their fence; and it stemmed from…well, life in general. He could pretend that this new life they lived was a walk in the park, but then again, it did put wear on one’s body on a daily basis. He yawned, feeling renewed from his rest. It had been a little over a month since they got back from their outing, and he was glad they had decided to not venture out that far unless absolutely necessary; his mind body and soul was tired.
He could admit that the Biter had really shaken him up. It had been fast, and strong. He shuddered just thinking about it. But, he thought, it had been a month since that occurrence and they hadn’t seen anything even remotely similar to it. And so, the excitement of it all had died down and they fell back into their routines. He wondered every now and again if it was an advanced form of Biter, but how? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that it had been a monster and that it was dead. And that in itself was another question that plagued his mind. How had it died? It had just…stopped. He groaned and rubbed a hand across his face. It was entirely too early in the morning to be thinking about those things.
“Shelly!” he called out for her again, opening the door to their bedroom. The entire house was quiet. In the mornings the house was busy; not too loud, but he was used to hearing voices and footsteps moving about. Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, he headed towards the stairs and for the front door. The house was big, and for that he was grateful. There were five rooms: Brian and Shelly sharing, Bobby-Jean and Jackson sharing, the children, (now three of them) shared one, all three rooms on the second story of the house while Amber had one to herself on the first floor, and now Miles and George alternated on the first floor. If neither one were on watch, one slept on the couch for convenience. Amber had decided to get a room on the first floor when they had first walked in after the outbreak. It sat about 30 feet from the front door, and even though there was no bed, she hadn’t cared. She only wanted to be sure she could see that front door. Brian had assumed it was a protective, motherly thing and had let it go. The one time he had come in at night after a perimeter check, unannounced, he had regretted it. No sooner had he heard the door click shut did she barrel into him, charging from her room. He let out a grunt, muttering a string of curses when she had realized it was him. He had looked up to see her with a gun pointed at his temple. He decided it was probably best that she stayed on the first floor.
As he sauntered towards the front door, wondering where everyone had gone, he noticed a trail of blood on the floor, heading for the kitchen. Dammit. His adrenaline kicked into overdrive and he retrieved his pistol from the waist band of his jeans. He followed the trail down the hall, glancing from the blood trail to the kitchen. It wasn’t bad, it was more or less light, but it was enough to set his nerves on edge. He wondered if he could remember what it felt like to not live on adrenaline on a daily basis.
“Ow!” he heard Kyle exclaim vehemently and instantly he released the breath he had been holding. He stepped more purposefully towards the kitchen, pretty sure nothing atrocious had happened to his family. As he rounded the corner, he saw Kyle sitting on a chair staring up at Amber who held a stitching needle and was hovering over him. Bobby-Jean and Shelly leaned against the counter watching, smug smiles on their faces. Shelly had Elliot on her hip who was watching Kyle, giggling. Kyle looked angry and in pain; his right hand wrapped in white gauze that was stained red in his palm. Amber was concentrating on stitching a cut on his eyebrow, and Kyle kept moving and wincing, not making things any easier for Amber.
“Just two more and I’m done.” She said sternly, an aggravated attempt to comfort him.
“I don’t…OWWW!...need them Mom!” he told her firmly and she just shook her head. Shelly waved at Brian, who now leaned against the door frame, amused. He n
oted how she handled the small child, and briefly, he entertained the thought of her carrying their own child…damn, but would she be beautiful. He raised his gaze to her eyes, and she smiled knowingly at him before winking. He grinned. After two years and surviving the end of the world together, she still made his heart do crazy things. And yet, the distance was there. He absently rubbed at the invisible pain that stretched across his chest.
“Yes. You. Do.” Amber replied to Kyle, sticking the needle through the gash again. Kyle stomped his foot in agony.
“Then numb it!” he almost shouted and Amber stepped back, eyeing him warily. Brian knew that look. It meant trouble.
“Oh yes, allow me to assist you to the closest damn hospital, son.” She said sarcastically, making Elliot giggle even more so. “You know how to act. You were raised better than to talk to me that way or would you like a reminder?” she asked. Bobby-Jean quickly tried to hide her smile behind her hand. Kyle widened his eyes at her before crossing his arms in defiance.
“No ma’am. But please hurry.” He told her, defeated. He stayed stock still, only flinching marginally and within a minute and a half, they were done. Kyle stood and began running for the back door, only to be stopped dead in his tracks when Amber caught him by his shirt collar. He jerked to a stop and almost fell back had it not been for Amber holding him up. He gradually turned around and she handed him a cloth and pointed to the bloodied floor.
“Clean that mess up. Nobody wants to step in it.” She ordered and he begrudgingly stooped down and began mopping it up with the cloth, grumbling all the while. Brian eased away from the door frame, making his way to Shelly and Bobby-Jean while Amber cleaned and stowed away the first aid kit.
“So, uh, what happened?” Brian asked, chuckling a little at the mean look Kyle tossed his way. He had to agree that his nephew had his temper. The thought made him proud and yet worried at the same time.
