Desolation (Book 1): Aftermath

by Butler, Simon L.

  Just on dusk, Ashe whispered to get my attention, “Jack!”

  “What is it?” I called back.

  “I think we are being watched,” she said. Her words caught my attention immediately as I rushed to her side. She pointed towards the town, a little further southeast along the highway. Sure enough, nestled amongst the ruined rusted out wrecks was a grey pickup truck, moving slowly along with its lights off. I couldn’t make out much detail beyond the outline of three figures sitting in the front of the truck.

  Ashe backed away inside the house and took up a defensive position just inside the door. I kept my rifle down as they neared the dirt road, surely those idiot slavers would not have trailed us this far. I stood on the porch, keeping my rifle slung over my shoulder while my hand hovered over the Glock. I was trying not to appear threatening, but that was a constant challenge for me. I watched as one of the passengers climbed out of the truck, disappearing up into the embankment on the far side of the highway while the other two turned onto the dirt road and drove up to the gate, cutting the engine before getting out. A short middle-aged woman with tied back greying black hair climbed out of the driver’s side, while a tall man of similar age stepped out and approached the gate. Both appeared well-armed, carrying assault rifles and were likely being covered by a sniper indicating they were well trained and probably well set up somewhere nearby if they were still out this close to dark.

  Knowing Ashe had my back, I approached cautiously, watching for any further sign of ill intentions. They stopped at the gate even though it wasn’t locked, and waited for me to let them in, which was a good sign. “Good evening,” I said politely as I approached the gate.

  “Good evening,” the woman said. “Sorry to intrude, but we noticed some new neighbours had moved in while we were on a trade run and thought we would introduce ourselves.” Her voice was kind, but there was an edge to it that said ‘don’t fuck with us’. The man said very little and seemed to be there mainly for appearances and muscle.

  I tried to play it cool, speaking calmly, “I apologise if we have caused some distress, we thought this place was abandoned, so we just stopped for the night. We were just passing through and needed a spot to hold up. I assume this is a safe house of yours?”

  The woman nodded and eyed me with a strange expression, like one of familiarity, but she seemed to quickly squash the thought and spoke. “Yes, this is one of our safe houses, so you are technically trespassing.” Her words made me worry for a moment before she held a hand up to stop me from responding. “But as you didn’t know, then it’s fine, just try and restock the food supplies before you leave and we won’t have any problems.”

  I nodded, glad that they seemed reasonable. “That’s fair, we will filter some water for this place as well, there doesn’t seem to be any around.”

  “There is a creek about fifty meters that way!” She pointed east towards Thornton. “We put a well in a few years ago, not far from the bridge. It should be clean, though I definitely recommend filtering it just to be safe.”

  “Understood! Thank you.”

  She seemed to relax slightly as if she had finished assessing my demeanour. “How many of you are there?”

  “Just two,” I replied calmly. “We are not here to cause trouble, and there was a herd moving a few kilometres back along the highway, so we didn’t want to be exposed while we try and get some sleep,” I explained, adding, “You guys are welcome to come inside. Feel free to bring your friend if you want. I’d hate for anyone to get hurt because of us with the herds on the move.”

  There was uncertainty in the woman’s expression before she nodded in agreement. The two of them walked in cautiously, their weapons ready. But once they saw Ashe slowly emerge from the doorway, they visibly relaxed. The universal sign of a decent person these days seemed to be the company of a woman who is not beaten or battered. The third person in their group emerged from the tree’s moments later. She was young, maybe a year or so younger than Ashe with a scar on her cheek and forehead with long honey-blonde hair tied into a ponytail. She climbed over the front gate and moved up beside the older woman. “What’s your name?” the older woman asked her eyes meeting mine.

  “I’m Jack, and this is Ashe. And you?”

  The woman’s face lit up momentarily as she looked to the man next to her. “I’m Natalie, this is Michael, and his daughter Millie.” The name of the woman instantly brought back a memory of the short, dark-haired woman that had been a second mother to me as a child. Her expression softened before the woman took a step forward. Her face was difficult to read; it looked like she was smiling but about to burst into tears when she asked, “Where are you from Jack?”

  I hesitated to answer, a sense of familiarity filled me as well. Could it be? I couldn’t get the words out, but the memories and thoughts flashed through my mind.

  “I’d recognise those eyes anywhere,” the woman said as she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around me, her tears spilling out. She stepped back after a moment and looked at me with piercing green eyes. “Good god, you look like your father!” She shook her head, whispering to herself.

  I tilted my head slightly, then asked, “Do you mean John?”

  She turned to look at me, her eyes welling up as she stared for a long moment before blurting out, “I thought you were dead!” She wrapped her arms around me instinctively, holding me tightly, her arms refusing to let go. She looked confused at first, taking a moment to lower her rifle as she stepped forward cautiously.

  The woman then backed away slightly, her look of relief and joy turning to concern. “Your mother?”

  I hesitated, my eyes cast down at the ground when Ashe moved up next to me, putting an arm around me, speaking on my behalf as I was still lost for words. “She passed away.”

  The woman seemed to stop herself, staring at Ashe for a long moment, her expression softening once more as she turned to me. “I’m so sorry, Jack.”

  I shook my head, forcing back my emotions. “She died a long time ago.”

  Natalie smiled sadly, as more tears fell from her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry. I grieved for her a long time ago, but to know for sure…” She trailed off as the man moved closer, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  The five of us moved up onto the porch overlooking the beach. “Millie?” the older woman said, directing her attention to the younger girl, “Can you please bring the truck inside and bring the supplies inside.”

  “But Aunt Natalie!” the girl protested. Natalie stared at the girl for a long moment before the girl threw her hands up in an exasperated sigh. “Fine! Let’s look after total strangers now.”

  “Thank you,” the woman said calmly before turning her attention to Ashe, who was still on zombie alert, her rifle held close. “And who are you, my dear?”

  Ashe’s eyes were still a little skittish in zombie territory slowing down momentarily to answer the woman’s question. “Uhm, I guess you could say Jack and I are kind of together?” She looked to me for confirmation.

  “What do you mean kind of, dear? Is he good to you?”

  Ashe laughed. “He has been wonderful to me. The last few weeks have been…” She paused, searching for the right words. “Jack is a good man.”

  “I see…” the woman replied. “So you and Jack? This is all new, then?”

  “It’s a long story!” Ashe tried to desperately to gather her thoughts.

  The woman smiled, holding out her hand. “It’s okay dear, let’s get a drink and something to eat, you can tell me all about it.”

  Natalie and Ashe moved into the house, leaving Michael and myself to help Millie with a dozen bags of supplies.

  The man seemed to be on alert holding a rifle, his balding head making him look tough. We were about the same height, though my ragged-looking hair probably gave me a slight edge there. His shoulders were huge though, he was well-fed and strong, it was easy to see why Natalie took him with her if she wanted the impression of muscle. He certainly had an in
timidation factor about him, and his demeanour and eyes were serious. He was incredibly fit-looking, dressed in a faded military uniform, holding the Styr assault rifle with steady hands and sharp grey eyes. “Sorry if we have disrupted something,” I said, trying to get a read on the guy.

  He glanced at me as his eyes wandered around the area, watching for signs of movement, relaxing slightly only when the young girl was back inside the gate with the truck. “It’s all good man, I just don’t like being outside the walls after dark.” We each took several bags from the rear of the truck, and I followed the two of them up into the cabin.

  I stood outside for a long moment, still a little unsure of our guests. My paranoia was hard at work yet again. I stood outside the cabin door watched the highway searching for any sign that it might be a trap or stitch up. In my experience, if something was too good to be true, it generally was. It took me nearly another hour to get the nerve to go inside with the others.

  When I did, Ashe was halfway through telling the older woman about out travels out of the red centre. “Are there really massive settlements out there?” Natalie asked, looking up at me from a glass of what looked like wine.

  “Most of what’s left of human life is out there,” I answered, “but I would hardly call it humanity in any meaningful sense of the word!” I explained, “There are tribes out there that make spending time with zombies the preferred option.”

  She nodded, understanding the implication. She then held up the bottle. “Wine? My son in law Andrew makes amazingly good wine.”

  The smell was potent, but I figured if we were going to have a mini-celebration, I would break out a bottle of whiskey. I poured a glass for myself and Michael, offering some to the rest of the room as well.

  Millie shook her head, keeping her distance from us, leaning against the wall of the cabin with her hand hovering over a pistol she had strapped to her thigh. She was pretty despite her scars. I approached her and held my hand out in the Old-world greeting. “Pleasure to meet you, Millie. We don’t have much to share, but there is some leftover Kangaroo meat if you want some.”

  She nodded slightly in appreciation but did not take my hand. “I’ll take watch Aunt Natalie,” Millie said to the older woman, before heading out to the front porch. She seemed a little less than comfortable with the exchange, and understandably so. I was a stranger to her, and so was Ashe, so her cautious nature was quite understandable – and I had to admit to feeling the same. I had to admit I liked this girl; she had a true survival instinct, which no doubt served her and her group well. Ashe had finished the story of how we came to be where we were, before moving on and explaining the smoking and drying process for the meat she had learned from Charlotte.

  Michael and I sat at a table, sharing very few words and a glass of whiskey while the two girls talked endlessly. Michael was a stoic looking man that reminded me of Hank, he said very little, but knew how to get his point across if needed. He took direction from the older woman as if it were second nature while keeping one eye on his daughter, who was keeping watch just outside the cabin door. The hierarchy of this group was strange, and in many ways, just as I had remembered it as a kid where the women seemly holding as much or more say than the men in the group.

  Eventually, the conversation ended after Ashe had finished explaining her story and how we met, continually talking me up with compliments, which made me uneasy. This level of social interaction was something I had yet to grow accustomed to. I appreciated Hank because he was comfortable with silence. We could sit and drink and exchange few words and still appreciate the company. But Natalie could not. She was full of questions, allowing her curiosity to sometimes cross into some odd lines of questioning.

  We eventually moved outside, eating a dinner of cold soup under the stars with a view of the beach. Ashe stuck close to me, sensing my unease while Millie kept an eye on us just a few meters away. The two girls had yet to exchange a single word or even pleasantries, and there was obvious tension between them. They were a similar age, but they were from very different backgrounds with very different experiences in their lives. But after a shared meal, the tension seemed to ease slightly. Ashe certainly seemed more relaxed in this situation, while Millie sat on the ground, cleaning her rifle dutifully. Ashe then took the opportunity to do the same, cleaning her rifle a few meters away.

  “So, what have you been doing all these years? Ashe mentioned you have been pretty nomadic for the most part?” Natalie asked as she sat down next to me, “Why didn’t you just come back? You know we would have helped you?”

  I was still quiet and finding words difficult, I did not handle emotion well at the best of times, and it was perhaps one of the main reasons I had long kept to myself. I was still holding back from our three guests as Millie seemed to be doing from us also. Ashe simply put her hand on my shoulder to reassure me. “I guess it’s a bit of a long story really, and not something I enjoy going into.”

  She nodded her understanding. “I’m sorry dear, I just want to know what happened to Amy… your mum. I need to know how it ended for her.” She hesitated, then spoke softly. “I… I loved her… and your dad,” she stuttered as if trying to explain something uncomfortable. “I loved them both. It’s why we were both ‘Mum’ because you were ‘our’ son. The three of us.”

  “Mum tried for a long time to get us back here,” I said, as I pushed my emotions further down. “But we just couldn’t get south at the time, the zombies clustered and moved in mega herds until food got scarce.” I tried desperately to think of the best way to word it, to tell her that she had done it tough because of me, that she had sacrificed everything for me only to raped and killed by a group of raiders that were less human than the zombies.

  “Speak it out loud, Jack,” Ashe whispered, “It’s good to let it out.”

  “I still hold myself responsible somewhere deep down. I could have shot my mother's attackers, but she said ‘No,’ thinking they would be satisfied once they had finished with her and that she would find me after, ordering me to run and hide. I found her two days later, her body tortured, bones broken but still alive, still suffering.” I felt Natalie and Ashe wrapping me in their arms as I felt a single tear fell from my dirt covered face as my hand reached for the necklace that I had kept wrapped around my neck all these years, finding the dirty gold ring that had once been hers. “I shot her to end her suffering and the men that hurt her like that…” I said coldly, letting the implications sink in, hesitating. “I killed them too, but it was never enough. After that, there was one more guilty party to her death, I didn’t deserve to come back.”

  Natalie said nothing, her eyes full of sadness and longing.

  Ashe stepped in, sensing my mind was shutting down, as she sat down in my lap, wrapping me in her arms around me tightly. I forced back the bubbling emotions once more and added simply, “She died in a way thoroughly underserving for the woman she was.” I held Ashe tightly, making no attempt to move away as we sat in a warm embrace.

  Natalie broke down crying before getting up and heading back into the house. Michael stood up and said, “I’m sorry, Jack, I’ll go keep an eye on her.” Leaving just the two of us on top of the sand dune with Millie, who was still cleaning her rifle, pretending as if she had not been listening. She had heard every word but did not react in any obvious way at first.

  Then after several minutes, she hissed with a low growl, “I hope you slaughtered every one of those mother fuckers!”

  Ashe just laughed and said, “I don’t doubt it for a second!”

  “Good because I’d have cut their balls off and fed it to the dogs,” She growled. “I swear most people are no better than fucking zombies!”

  Ashe took in a deep breath as if remembering her own ordeal. “Damn fuckin’ straight!”

  “Hey?” Millie said, looking at me, “You should know you’re Dad died last year. As far as I’m aware he never stopped looking. Hell last year, he wanted to head off for one last try. But he got sick
with pneumonia and passed away. Aunt Natalie was with him at the end.”

  “Were they together?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah, your dad and Natalie were married for years,” she explained. “So was your mum but I never met her. Apparently, they were in some sort of three-way relationship, it’s kind of cute when Aunt Natalie tells the story. But I swear the whole tribe talks about your dad like he was some sort of mythical figure. The stories are fucking crazy.”

  The two girls talked casually as the tension subsided between them. I just sat and listened, enjoying Ashe’s warm embrace. It was good to see the two girls sort out the tension between them, but I was exhausted and in desperate need of sleep. I gently moved Ashe off my lap and went inside to get an early night’s sleep. The cabin was small, with just one bedroom, a tiny living space and a small kitchen and bathroom. Natalie was sitting on a chair in the living area when I walked in, sipping another glass of wine. “I’m sorry about earlier,” she said apologetically as I walked in and sat down.