Darkest Before Dawn (A Guardian's Diary Book 1)

by Amelia Hutchins

  I guess it was easy to think like that when you preyed on the less fortunate or weaker beings. Once again I auto-cocked the string and slid my arrow in, as I used the scope to aim between the shelves. He was smaller than the first guy, but his eyes were hard and his hands were fisting with irritation.

  “You better get your ass out here; don’t think I won’t leave you and keep the girl to myself! Was tired of sharing her with you anyway!” he shouted as I pulled the trigger. I enjoyed the sickening crunch of muscle and tissue as it ripped apart his heart.

  I stood up and walked to where he was bleeding out. “And I’m sure she was sick of being shared with the both of you, too,” I snapped and ripped the arrow out of his chest. I’m not into forgiveness or rehabilitation. I have enough on my plate without worrying about those who hurt others.

  I walked out to the car, and the moment the woman saw me, she screamed. I rolled my eyes. Overly dramatic much? I walked to the car, shimmying off my pack, and opened the door. I shoved my pack onto the passenger side and slid into the driver’s seat, thanking the powers that be; those idiots had left the keys in the ignition. I could drive this heap and ditch it when I came back for my bike. The woman had been handcuffed to the door of the backseat and was now in full hysterics, probably thinking she’d ended up in the hands of yet another monster, but I didn’t have time to waste right now. If I had to pick between my motorcycle and her…Let’s just say I’d pick the bike. It helped me to protect and feed those in the shelter, and was a necessity. It was a Ducati, which my father had personalized for just about any type of apocalyptic scenario. It had off road tires, and could actually go off road as most four wheelers could. I’d hand painted on the camo-green skulls, and airbrushed the rest of the bigger details onto the gas tank. Needless to say, this bike had both necessity and emotional attachment.

  I parked a few feet from the shelter and pulled my mask off to look at her. The moment I did, she stilled.

  “You’re a woman!”

  “Last time I checked,” I smiled and watched as tears slid from her eyes. “Who were those men?”

  “They killed my baby, and shot my husband,” she said before she started her hysterics again.

  “Look, I’m sorry for what they did. You’re safe now and they won’t be hurting anyone else ever again. You gotta stop crying so I can explain a few things before I allow you into the shelter.” I gave her a moment, because personally, I couldn’t imagine what she’d been through. “Got it together?” I asked and when she nodded her dark head, I continued. “My family is in there, and some others we found in similar positions as yours. You can stay here, but if you do, you’ll be asked to help. We all work together there and we all help out. No free rides.”

  She nodded emphatically. I felt a twinge of regret knowing she’d lost a child.

  “We have children here, ones who we found alone, or found with bad people. They need reassurance and love, so you know, love on them, or whatever. They are alone in the world, and depend on us.”

  “Were they found with men like…” she couldn’t finish her sentence and I didn’t need her to.

  “Some; some we found in homes around here curled up with their parents’ remains. It’s sad either way. Everyone has lost someone from the flu but unlike us, they don’t understand what’s happened. They don’t need to know yet. No good can come from it.”

  “You have food and water?” she asked.

  “First things first, name?”

  “Cathleen,” she whispered.

  “I’m Emma. It’s nice to meet you. Wish it had been under better circumstances. Now you need to know one thing, Cathleen, if you fuck with my family or hurt anyone we have promised to protect, I or one of the others in the shelter will kill you. We’ve all sworn to protect those who are in there. You can be one of them. The alternative isn’t something you want to find out about.”

  I handed her off to Addy, who met us armed with a trusty pair of bolt cutters, and took off in the car. I made it back to my bike, which was still there, thankfully. I exited the car with mask and hoodie securely back in place, the weight of my pack on my back, and suddenly felt the additional weight of a stare. I looked around but could see nothing. I wasn’t alone, though I was sure of it. I climbed on the bike and did a once over of the area around me. Nothing.

  Decision made, I would probably go someplace to hide tonight, rather than take the risk of bringing trouble back to the shelter. I headed up the old river road and released the throttle. If anyone was following me, they wouldn’t be for long. When I reached the river, I climbed off the bike and pulled my crossbow from its resting place on the pack before I moved to the water.

  I could still feel the stare on the back of my neck, but that was impossible. I turned and eyed the bushes as a branch snapped. My eyes strained to see into the dark terrain. I could hear something, but it sounded more like a wild animal than a piece of shit human. I reached down and pulled out a flashlight, shining it into the thick brush.

  It was hard to see in the dim light through the mask. However, I was not removing it. We’d saved countless women from rape, and worse. Don’t ask what the worse was. It was pretty rank, and just disgusting.

  The bushes moved, and I involuntarily stepped backwards. Great, Emma, just friggin’ great! Crossbow in one hand, the flashlight held firmly in the other. If it’s a bad guy, maybe you can club him to death with a crossbow, or better yet, light his way to you! I clicked off the light and brought up the bow, resetting it and glared at the bushes, daring them to move wrong.

  Bushes; I was warning bushes, really? Get on the bike, Emma! Choices, shit, choices were overrated. I could see a few here, though.

  One: Stand here like a blooming idiot and shoot the bushes.

  Two: Get on the bike and pretend I didn’t threaten to murder bushes. Well, in my head I did.

  Three: Go into the bushes and search out what had moved and kill it.

  I moved toward the bike and lowered the crossbow. Well played bushes, well played. I straddled the bike and started it. Once I secured the crossbow to the bike’s saddlebags, I took off again. I headed back to town. It was safer there because there were a lot more places to hide. I needed to check the fish traps and then make sure they still had bait, but I wasn’t giving away their location to any animals, or friggin’ bushes! It would just have to wait for tomorrow.

  In town it was deathly quiet. It was weird sensing the silence. It was one thing to wish for it, but another to hear it. Crickets were the loudest, but on a calm evening, you could hear frogs, birds, and other critters rustling around in the night. Tonight there were only the sounds of crickets and my motorcycle. I climbed off the bike in front of one of the houses I knew needed to be cleared. I had been here earlier today and had to abort what I was doing when I heard that car going through town.

  Inside were four bodies. Mr. and Mrs. Jameson, and their once beautiful twins, all of them had died in that house. No one was sure how the Rh Viridae virus had picked its targets, or why it had allowed some of us to live. There was no rhyme or reason to how it selected to kill us. It just did.

  I walked into the house and stepped right back out. Yuck. The dead stank! You’d think after all this time I’d be used to it. No such luck! I brought out the coroner’s cream and lifted the mask only far enough to place it on my upper lip and then dropped the mask back into place. I scanned the area as that tingling sensation of being watched came back.

  If someone was out there, they were keeping their distance. Which suited me just fine, but it still made me itch to figure it out. I went back inside the house and carried out the twins, one at a time, in a sheet, and just barely managed to keep the tears in my eyes. I’d known this family, and had babysat the twins for extra money on the weekends. I placed them on the wood pile I’d stacked earlier today, and then went back inside for their parents. Mrs.
Jameson was easy, but Mr. Jameson had some extra weight which sucked. I got him out, placed him with his family, and looked around the street.

  Where was this person hiding? The houses on this block all had dead corpses still inside, which would make it unbearable to sit inside, or hide. Not to mention the diseases that came from the dead, from not being able to bury them correctly. I brought out the fuel and splashed it over the unfortunate family and then got on my knees and said a quick prayer to the heavens that they be accepted with only my humble blessing to send them on.

  When I got back up to my feet, I brought out the book of matches, struck one on the cover and tossed it in. The flames leapt to life, and tears fell for the family. They’d been damn good people, and no one had deserved what had happened—no one.

  Flames as big as this in the night would be seen a long way off, so it was time to go. I would probably come back with a team of girls tomorrow and finish the next few houses. I turned to head back to my bike, but someone was standing close to it. On instinct, I pulled one of my handguns from its holster and aimed straight for his heart. I couldn’t speak, because I’d give myself away. I tilted my head, and cocked the weapon.

  He held up his hands and smiled. “Now, now, little boy. I come in peace.”

  As if. Boy! I lifted my brow even though he couldn’t see it. He had long blondish-brown hair which was pulled back into a ponytail which gave him a ‘Huntsman’ look. His eyes and skin tone were hard to make out in the moonlight and the shadows flickering off the bonfire behind me; it was creating an enchanted feeling inside of me.

  He scanned me briefly before he spoke and it felt as if his eyes were looking right through my disguise and straight into my soul. I shivered briefly before narrowing my eyes beneath the mask. It was impossible for him to see me, or determine anything else with the baggy clothes I wore.

  “Do you speak?” he asked, and I shook my head. “No?”

  I didn’t bother to move the second time, minus lining up and adjusting the gun sights better. The more he spoke, the more noticeable his faint accent became. I couldn’t quite place it, but it sure wasn’t from around here.

  “A mute, then?”

  Man, he was thick!

  “Okay, I’ll play. This town, how many people are left?”

  He stepped closer, and I stepped back and the heat of the fire grew hot against the clothes I wore. He moved around until he was able to lean against the house.

  “Use your fingers, I’ll count.”

  I held up my middle one.

  He grinned, but it was lopsided. “One?”

  He pushed off the house and I fired, aiming for the right, next to his head. Close enough that it nicked his hair. His eyes grew wide, and then narrowed. “You missed,” he growled, and I shook my head. “You didn’t miss?”

  Another shake as I smiled beneath the mask.

  “Alright, I’ll play it your way and tell you what I have observed so far,” he grinned knowingly. “You don’t kill unless you have to, and yet you kill if the need arises to help someone, mostly women and children, but I think you would help men if they need it. Personally, if they aren’t strong enough to save themselves, you should let them die. I’ve been watching for you awhile today, and I haven’t seen you take off that mask yet.”

  It was time to go. He’d been watching me all day? How had I missed that?

  “Tell me, are you helping to gather slaves for someone?”

  I almost cussed, but caught myself before I did so. Oh, he was crafty! Wait, I was craftier. I tilted my head as I aimed my weapon at his head, again. He watched my hands, and for a moment, his eyes captured mine through the mask and held them. Time stood still, and something inside of me kicked into overdrive…my heart?

  “Shit, you can’t be over sixteen with those baby blues.”

  I blinked, and considered shooting him. It would solve the issue of him being too close to my bike. Would also work to wipe that charming grin off his entirely too kissable lips.

  “Tell me, why be alone? We have room for you. We have rules, of course. Not many, but we could make a man out of you yet.”

  Thanks for the offer, buddy, passing! Besides, I was pretty sure he couldn’t make a man out of me. I was just grateful that he hadn’t seen anyone else from the shelter today or followed me there earlier.

  I turned and gave the family one last look before moving to my bike, but it had been a mistake. His hand gripped my shoulder, and I brought the gun up, and tried turning in his direction, but his viselike grip prevented it.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” he chimed, as he leaned closer and…sniffed me. I felt violated, but the moment his nose touched my throat, I felt something kick inside of my belly, and heat pooled down there. Oh, Emma, be a boy! No getting wet, not now, now ever, pull it together!

  Oh my word, he’d sniffed me! Like a friggin’ dog! What the hell was wrong with people? I turned around and faced him, forcing him to release my arm. He narrowed his eyes, and tilted his head, mirroring my earlier assessment of him.

  “You don’t smell like a teenage boy,” he mused.

  Shit. Shit. Shit!

  I tried again to raise my gun, but something in his posture made me hesitate. He wasn’t aggressive, but he was dangerously curious. I stepped back and widened my pose, seeing if he’d do the same. Instead, his eyes slid down to my legs and back up at me.

  “Go kid, before I change my mind,” he said and I wasted no time getting back onto my bike and leaving him there. I didn’t go home, because if I did, he’d follow and I knew it. Knew it like I knew today had sucked monkey balls. I made it about a mile from the shelter and once again got off the bike to look around. I didn’t feel the eyes on me, and after a few moments, I pulled out the hand held radio and radioed in to Addy.

  Nope, I didn’t speak, because it was vital that I keep my gender to myself. Instead, I used the code my father had taught us, to let her know I’d be sleeping in the big red barn on the Johnston’s property.

  “Stay safe, and don’t do anything stupid, over.”

  Beep, beep, beep. Love you, too.

  I pushed the bike inside and set up the cans which would alert me if anyone tripped the fishing wire. With the bike secured, I crawled up to the loft and sprawled out on the hay. I’d killed today, and even though it had been for a good reason, it left behind a darkness that bothered me. How many people would I have to kill before this was over? When would this be over? It had been months, and it was only getting worse.

  Lying there in the blackness of night, it almost seemed normal. Until you listened to the silence and it sank in that nothing would ever be normal again. There would be no going back; the government was gone and those small factions claiming to be there to help you couldn’t be trusted, nor could the distress calls like the one my father went to go answer. I’d heard plenty of reports of people going to them, only to never radio back just like my dad didn’t. To me, it was a dead ringer for a red flag of trouble.

  I closed my eyes without removing the mask, and slept.

  Chapter 3

  I woke up with the sun just rising. The smell of hay was rank, but what else had I expected? I sat up and looked around as I got my bearings. I’d dreamt of the man from yesterday, and it had left a tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach. I shrugged it off and reminded myself of what happened when men found women alone. Nothing good.

  I stretched my arms, climbed out of the loft, and opened the huge doors before pushing my bike outside and closing them. I did a perimeter check with my eyes and when I was satisfied I wasn’t being watched, I climbed on the bike and headed home.

  I walked in and was pounced on by Addy.

  “Bitch! I was so worried that I barely managed to sleep at all,” she whined, and kissed my cheek.

  “How’s Cathleen settling
in?” I asked, changing the subject. I didn’t want to discuss why I had hay in my hoodie, pants, and boots, and well, let’s just say it was pretty much everywhere.

  “She’s adapting. I asked her for her story for the record books.” The record book was where we kept the tales of everyone who we helped or saved along the way. It only had a few pages filled out, but eventually, we would write more. “She’s from Boise, and was the mother of a two year old who those men killed. They also killed her husband of five years, and she’s not ready to talk about it, but she seems to be healthy. She was definitely abused, but healthy.”

  “Good,” I said as I pulled off the mask and shrugged the heavy pack off. I needed a shower and to change my clothes before I went back on patrol. “How many are up and about?”

  “Kaylah, Jillian, and Greta are awake. I can wake the others if you need them.”

  “Do so,” I said stretching my back where it hurt from the night spent in the barn. “I want more of the dead burned, but we also need to grab some more supplies. We might need to make a trip into Spokane again.”

  Spokane was the closest large city, but going there was always dangerous. “Has there been any news from Kameron or anyone from his group? He should have contacted us by now.”

  “Nope, Jimmy and Grayson are working the radio this morning, and nothing has come across yet,” Addy said as she tied her long blonde hair into a tight ponytail. She’d been popular in school because she was outgoing, leggy, and beautiful, where as I was quiet and tended to hide in her shadow. Hey, if they can’t see me, they can’t make fun of me. Not like I cared what they thought; it’s just the taunting and insults can wear on you after a while.