He looks at me sharply and laughs nervously.
“You protected me? Why?”
“Because it was the right thing to do.” I reply, incredulous. “Life is precious, or didn’t you know that?”
“Ha, that’s a hoot. Life is cheap. Wake up.”
“No, you need to wake up. I saved your sorry ass. Your life is mine now.” I tell him, as he looks at me.
He snorts in disgust, and begins to lean down to pick up an assault rifle.
“Don’t.” I warn him.
“Where are your friends?” He asks as he scoops up the gun.
“Here.” I hear Max growl from the bushes.
The man turns, raising the assault rifle. I hear the gunshot, as Max shoots the man in the head. The gun drops from his hand as he drops to his knees, before falling sideways.
“What the hell?” I ask angrily.
“You can’t reason with some people, Angela.” Max says and holsters his revolver as he strides toward me.
“I can try.” I respond, and sigh in frustration. “It can’t be just kill or be killed. I refuse to believe that.”
“These guys are not worth shedding a tear for. Trust me.” Max says and places his hand on my shoulder.
“Geez, what the hell happened?” I hear Jason’s voice.
“Their leader shot them.” I say, and shake my head in disbelief.
“Hey, new guns.” Jeremy says happily as he marches over toward the dead men.
“We have a problem.” I tell Max. “They went that way.” I say and point down the highway, in the direction we were heading in.
“Okay. Plan B.” Max says grimly.
Nine
Max drives us back north to the closest town, and we spend the next two hours going from house to house. We check for supplies, and siphon gas from the dust covered cars.
I find myself in a house, staring up at a family portrait. I wipe the dust away and look at the happy faces. A man, his wife and two children smile at me from the past.
They’re probably long dead by now.
My shoulders slump, and I smile at the photo.
This is what a family looks like.
I turn and look around the dark living room. The main window looking out over the front yard has been broken, and the long off-yellow drapes flutter in the late afternoon breeze. I step over the dark stains and head through into the kitchen area. The drawers and cupboard doors are all open.
A mouse darts out from one of the lower cupboards, and makes a B-Line for the rear door. Its little feet and my breathing are the only things I hear in the house.
Abigail is with Theresa and Jason a few houses down, and Max and Jeremy are one block over to the east. I hear Andrew’s footsteps outside in the front yard, as he shuffles his feet while keeping watch.
I head back into the hall then step carefully upstairs.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” I call out, but I’m greeted by silence, as I expected.
I check the bedrooms, and find them picked clean already. Even the mattresses are gone. A small ragdoll lies discarded on the dusty carpet. I scoop it up and shake the dust off. Its yellow pig-tails are made from wool, and feels soft to the touch. I blow the rest of the dust from its little pale smiling face, then head back downstairs.
“Anything?” Andrew asks when I emerge.
I hold up the doll and smile. Andrew rolls his eyes and strides to the sidewalk.
“This street is dead. Let’s find the others.” Andrew says and begins heading north up the street toward the next intersection.
“How old were you when this all happened?” I ask as we walk.
He glances at me sideways, before turning his head and checking the doors and windows as we pass.
“I was a baby. So I don’t remember much.” He says and waves his hand around him. “This is all I know.”
“Me too.” I say, and he looks at me sharply. “I mean, this is all I know too.” I add.
“Max says we’re lucky.” Andrew says and sighs. “No happy memories to draw upon? Yeah, we’re really blessed.” He says sarcastically.
“Did Max find you?” I ask, as we make a right at the intersection.
“Kind of. My parents found him hiding in our basement, at least, that’s what they told me.......before they.....you know......” He trails off and walks in silence for a few minutes.
“Max has been good to me. Jeremy too. They’re a good bunch.” He smiles half-heartedly at me. “I know we got off on the wrong foot. Sorry about that.” He changes his rifle to his other shoulder and rubs his nose on the back of his sleeve.
“Considering what I’ve seen so far, I’m not surprised.” I say and wave at Samantha and Rebecca as they emerge from a half-demolished church.
“Hi, guys. You find anything?” Andrew asks as we approach the girls.
“Got water.” Rebecca replies and holds up a large blue plastic container.
“Let’s go.” Samantha says and crosses the street with her shotgun at the ready.
We head down another street littered with demolished cars and pickups. I try not to notice the skeletons, but then I do notice something. The end of a holdall is sticking out from underneath a ruined station wagon.
“Hang on, guys.” I say and lean down and grab hold of the rear wheel arch. I stand up and lift the rear of the station wagon off of the ground. “What’s that?” I ask and point with my free hand.
“Whoa.” Andrew laughs nervously, before stepping forward to take a look. “Hmm?” He murmurs and grabs the black holdall and places it on the sidewalk.
I lower the car and watch as Andrew unzips the bag and opens it up.
“Alright!” Andrew beams as he pulls out half a dozen handguns.
I roll my eyes and step around.
We need food, not more guns.
He zips the bag up and hefts it on to his shoulder with a grunt. I look back at him.
“Do you need a hand?” I offer.
“Would you mind?” Andrew says, so I take the holdall with one hand casually and start walking.
I see a figure emerge from a blackened house a block away, and I wave at them. Instead of waving back, the person begins to open a car and check the glovebox.
“Hey!” I call out when I’m a hundred feet away.
The person exits the car, and begins walking away.
“Hey, wait.” I holler and quicken my pace.
“Who is that?” Andrew asks behind me as I close the gap between us.
“Wait, please.” I say, then the figure stops, and vanishes in a burst of dark light and a faint pop.
“Whoa. Did you see that?” Andrew asks excitedly as he catches up with me.
“Someone else with powers?” I say as I stare blankly at where the person just stood.
“Hey, you’re not alone.” Rebecca says as she touches my hand gently.
“Hey, guys. We’ve found something.” I hear Jeremy call out from further ahead.
He’s standing next to Max on a street corner and waving us over.
We hurry over as Max stares through binoculars at something in the distance. I follow his gaze and focus my eyes and zoom in.
“Hey, a golf course. Right?” I say, and focus back on where I am.
Max looks over his shoulder at me with his piercing gray eyes. He snorts when he sees the doll and bag of guns in my hands.
“We saw someone.” I say, and he raises an eyebrow and lowers his binoculars.
“Where?” He asks.
“They vanished.” I say.
“Yeah, just like that.” Andrew adds and snaps his fingers.
“Someone like you?” Max asks.
I shrug, making the guns in the holdall clink together.
“What did they look like?” Max asks, then trains his binoculars back towards the golf course in the distance.
“Hard to tell. They wore a hooded sweatshirt.” I reply.
“Did they say anything?”
“No. I tried to talk to them, but
they vanished.” I say and look around. “Where’s Abigail and the others?” I ask.
“They found a school not far from here. They said they would check it out.” Max lowers the binoculars and gazes up at the slowly darkening sky. “Storm’s coming.”
A westerly breeze blows some of my long white hair into my face as I look up at the clouds. They don’t look menacing, but they are gliding by above us pretty quick. I look back at the golf course. The fairways and greens are all lost in a sea of long tough grass. Anything could be lurking amongst the acres of green stalks between us and the clubhouse, if it’s even still there. I lower the bag of guns and hand the doll to Jeremy.
“I’ll check it out. Back in a pip.” I say and break into a run.
As soon as I’m several feet from Max, I accelerate. My breath catches in my throat as the streets become a grey blur. The long green stalks fill my vision in a heartbeat, then they crack and rustle as I hurtle through. I catch my foot on a thick stalk or root, and find myself flying through the grass headfirst, while my legs kick wildly in the air.
“Aaagghh.”
I fly for a few seconds before I eventually land on my shoulders, and find myself staring up at my booted feet and the rolling clouds above. The grass is beginning to sway more violently as the wind increases.
I roll over backwards and climb to my feet. I see the broken stalks in front of me, so I turn around and face the wall of grass. I listen carefully, but all I hear is the rustling grass and the wind, and the occasional cricket. I part the grass with my hands as I push through, and step carefully. After what seems like an age, I emerge from the grass and step into an open parking lot.
A dozen abandoned cars stand huddled together, collecting dust and bird droppings. Three Raccoons perch on top of one of the SUVs, and watch me curiously as I walk towards the clubhouse.
The clubhouse is a simple one story structure built from red bricks, but has some damage to the roof. The main entrance is blocked by a large silver coach. I approach the rear of the coach and start to push. The tires squeak as they slide unmoving along the parking lot. I marvel at my strength, as I push the large vehicle along with barely any effort. Once the main door is exposed, I stop pushing and head inside.
I hold my hand over my mouth as I look around. There’s so much dust. I can smell it through my fingers. My footsteps on the brown tiled floor echo around me as I walk. A couple of rats scurry past me as I enter the restaurant area. A dozen plain square tables are arranged near a large picture window overlooking the long grass outside. To the other side of the room is a long curved bar. Various bottles filled with a variety of different colored liquor hang from the wall behind the bar. Cobwebs of varying sizes hang from the lights and corners, and one side of the room is so full of webs and spiders, that I shudder and head back out into the main reception area. The other side of the clubhouse has a living room type area, with couches, coffee tables and a large flat screen television. I stare at the dark screen of the television and catch my reflection. My long white hair cascades down my shoulders like rivers of ice. Even though my reflection is darkened, my blazing blue eyes still stand out in the darkness. I raise my hand to my face, and notice the blue light on my skin.
Geez, no wonder I freaked Max and the others out.
I look back at the television, then the dark room begins to melt away.
I find myself in another room that has a television.
A man walks past me and slides open a door, exposing shelves. He plucks something from a shelf and holds it up and smiles at me. A young woman walks by me before sitting down. She has blond hair, like the man, only longer.
What is this? Who are they?
I blink, and the vision is gone, and I find myself back in the dark clubhouse. I don’t know why, but I find myself crying. I shake my head and wipe the tears away, then look around before leaving. I race back to Max and the others.
I smile when I see that Abigail and the others have arrived.
“Did you find anything?” Max asks.
“There’s a hole in the roof, and it’s dusty as hell. But it looks okay.” I reply.
I take the doll from Jeremy and head over to Abigail, who’s talking with Rebecca.
“Here.” I say as she looks up at me with her big blue eyes, and hold the doll out to her.
“What’s wrong?” She asks and takes my hand.
“Nothing.”
“Why do you look upset?”
“Do I?” I ask, and touch my face. Tears are still flowing down my dusty cheeks. My heart feels heavy, but I don’t understand why.
Who were those people?
“Is that for me?” Abigail asks and points to the doll in my hand.
“I thought you might like it.” I say as she takes it from me and caresses its head.
“Thank you.” She gushes and crushes the doll to her chest.
“Did you find anything useful at the school?” I ask Theresa, who is sitting on the sidewalk with something white hanging from her mouth.
She takes the white object from her lips and exhales pale smoke.
“Found these.” She says, and waves a white and red rectangular package. “We found those as well.” She says and points behind her at some boxes.
I take a quick look into the boxes. Two boxes are filled with books, and four more boxes are filled with bandages, syringes, blankets and lots of small bottles. As I check another box, I feel the first spatter of rain. Jason picks up Abigail, and Max starts walking towards the van. I heap a few boxes on top of each other, then lift them and start loading the van. Within ten minutes, we’re pulling up into the golf course parking lot. The rain is falling more violently now, and as we unload the van, the rain turns into hailstones.
“Quick.” I tell Samantha and Rebecca, as they park the Harley next to the van and station wagon.
Once everyone is inside, I head quickly to the front of the large coach and push it in front of the main entrance. I crawl underneath the vehicle and then join the others inside. The hail is battering the coach in rapid succession now, and is making a helluva noise. The others have setup camp in the living area, and as I brush my wet hair from my face, I slump down into one of the couches.
“I’ll keep first watch. The rest of you, get some rest.” Max says and shoulders an assault rifle.
I try not to look at the television, and decide to close my eyes. My mind is racing. Images are starting to flash through my mind, and voices that are strange and yet familiar are speaking to me.
Britney? Who’s Britney?
Ten
“Angela?” I hear Abigail’s voice. She sounds worried.
I open my eyes, blink a few times, then my eyes begin to focus. Abigail’s standing near me, her hand is on my arm.
“What is it?” I ask wearily and yawn. It’s still dark.
“Who’s Mitchell?” She asks, wide-eyed with wonder.
“Huh?” I ask.
“You were talking in your sleep. You kept saying the name, Mitchell.”
“Was I?” I blink slowly and sit up. Mitchell? “I don’t know why I did that, Abi.”
“Oh.” Abigail says, looking deflated.
“I wish I could remember.” I say and pat her hand gently. “Sometimes, I see faces and hear voices. But I don’t know who they are.”
“I thought your memory might be coming back.” She says and sighs heavily.
I pick her up and place her in my lap.
“I’m sorry.” I say, and brush some loose strands of blond hair away from her sullen face.
The storm outside sounds like it’s starting to move on. I hear the occasional patter of rain on the roof, and the howling wind is now just a low whistle, as it blows under the main door.
“I wish you were my sister.” Abigail says suddenly and leans into my chest.
I put an arm gently around her shoulders.
“But we are sisters.” I say quietly. “You’re all my family now.”
“I’ve always wanted a si
ster.” Abigail whispers into the darkness as she presses her cheek against me.
I smile and ruffle her hair. I hear some footsteps behind me.
“I’d like a word.” I hear Max’s gravelly voice.
I stand up and set Abigail down in the couch, and put my finger to my lips and stroke her cheek. Max nods his head for me to follow him. I step over the sleeping forms of Samantha and Rebecca, then follow the dark form of Max towards the restaurant area.
He stops near one of the square tables and sits down. I take the seat opposite, and sit down gently. The pale moonlight coming in from the large picture window highlights the right side of his face. His eyes look tired.
He sits quietly for a few seconds, just looking at me with a sad expression, while he adjusts his side holster.
“You and Abigail seem to be fast friends.” Max says quietly.
I nod my head and look out of the window at the swaying grass.
“She’s a special girl.” Max says. “I remember when she was just three years old...” He stops as a quiet laugh bursts from him, then he brushes his moustache with his thumb. “She chased after a Raccoon, who had managed to get in through a cat flap in a house we were staying at once. She chased that thing all over the place. She just wanted to pet it, I think.” He says, and I can see his beard move as he smiles at the memory.
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, and he sighs and sits back in his chair.
“I need you to promise me something.” Max says.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just.....if anything should happen to me.....I want you to......protect them. Can you do that?”
“Nothing’s gonna happen.” I reply nervously.
“You know that’s not true. Anything can happen, and with those blue freaks, it can happen pretty damn fast.”
“Yeah......well....I’m pretty damn fast too.” I reply.
“I know you are, kid. But you can’t be everywhere at once.” He replies solemnly, then places his rough hand on my wrist.
“You got to promise me. Protect Abigail and the girls. Promise me.” He demands, and tightens his grip on my wrist.
“Of course. I promise.”
He releases me and sits back, weariness etched into his weathered face.
Cosmic Girl: Lost & Found: Superhero series for young adults - Book Three. Page 6
