Revenants Series (Book 2): Remnants

by Elisabeth, Lee

  Remnants is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text Copyright © 2019 by Lee Elisabeth

  Cover Copyright © 2019 by K. Leah

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States.

  Title page art from an original photograph by depositphotos.com

  Also by Lee Elisabeth

  Revenants

  To Brinny, Jay, and Bay - the three of you make my heart sing.

  Prologue

  November 30, 2019

  Meredith

  I breathe deeply, drawing the crisp mountain air in through my wind-blistered lips and nose. It burns my nostrils and throat, and everything else it touches as it enters my lungs and then again when I exhale.

  My eyes sting.

  The late-November cold is nearing the point of being painful; I need to find a hat and jacket soon, maybe some gloves...a thicker pair of socks wouldn't be terrible, either. I miss the warmth of August for only as long as it takes to remember how miserable the summer months were, and how much I hated being damp and chafed after a long day of walking. I’ll settle for being cold any day. The cooler temperature helps me stay awake during the seemingly endless days, but it keeps me awake at night, too, which isn't ideal.

  I'm tired.

  I pause, allowing my throbbing feet a quick rest; only sixty seconds...maybe 120, if I can get it...just long enough to catch my breath.

  It’s alright. It’s not like the Apocalypse is going anywhere.

  But he might.

  I can’t allow too much distance to stretch out between us; if I do, this hungry world might swallow his tracks again, and we’ll be separated forever. A deep dread runs its spindly fingers up my spine, reminding me how I felt when I lost him, months ago. I couldn’t believe it, but the facts were undeniable. He had disappeared, like a wily magician had waved her wand over him and whispered, “abracadabra”. I couldn't find him anywhere.

  I was sick…and angry.

  I gave up.

  I figured that was it, game over. Without him, any hope I had of reversing this plague was just as lost as he was. I felt like an utter failure; like I made it all the way to the endgame to find out I had nothing left on the board but pawns. So, when Chloe and Daniel showed up in that dingy gas station in middle-of-nowhere-Wilco and invited me to join them, I thought, why not? What did I have to lose? Once I realized the answer was “absolutely nothing”, I agreed to follow the siblings on their quest to Asheville. I pretended to help them look for parents who had most likely been dead since May, while I simultaneously searched every nook, cranny, and shadow for the man I let get away.

  By the grace of God, I spotted him just beyond Lowell’s city limits, after a bloody battle with a herd of Meths…or Revs, as Chloe and Daniel had named them. We fled Lowell in Erek’s pickup truck, hoping to find suitable shelter before nightfall. The old truck was reliable despite its dents, rusted steel, creaks and groans, but it couldn’t push through the snarled tangle of abandoned cars on the highway, so we parked it on the shoulder of the road, and walked the remaining two miles to an old hunting camp Erek frequented during his younger years.

  It took a bit of time to get there. We had all our worldly possessions on our backs, and they were as heavy as the road was long. I remember wiping my brow, thinking, if I never have to walk anywhere again it would suit me just fine. Then I looked up, and poof! there he was, like providence had placed him there for only my eyes. He was alone, shaded by the tall trees at the edge of the highway, but still visible. I couldn’t let the others see him. They might react, and I couldn’t allow that. No, he was mine...a gift for me, and only me...so I distracted them with a worried expression and a, “hey, I think I saw something over there!” While they peered at the trees on the right side of the road, searching for a threat that wasn’t there, I watched him slip into the trees on the left side of the road and disappear.

  That was the moment I decided to leave.

  The decision was made for me. I had no choice...right? I had to follow him. It was the only way to remedy what I allowed to go so terribly wrong. It was the only way to protect my new friends...the only way to protect Daniel. I convinced myself he would make his peace with my disappearing act; maybe not at first, but certainly before the end of winter.

  So, I left the small camp, with tears in my eyes and a debilitating ache in my chest.

  I didn't allow myself a backward glance.

  I didn't deserve one.

  The sound of a twig snapping under the weight of a 180-pound man interrupts my thoughts. I’m glad. I don’t want to think about Daniel, or the others. I don’t like thinking about my broken heart, so I fold it up and shove it back into my pocket. Maybe one day I’ll pull it out again and nurse the pain, but right now I have a job to do, and it involves following a man to a cure I’m not 100% sure even exists.

  He moves along, seemingly oblivious to my presence.

  Tracking him reminds me of a game I used to play in my father’s house on cold, rainy days when going outside wasn't an option. My dad would hide...tucking himself away in some impossibly small space...while I ran up and down the hallways, in and out of rooms, giggling and yelling, "I'm going to find you, Daddy!" over and over again until my tiny voice was hoarse. I can’t help but smile at the memory. Those were happier times, when a simple game of hide and seek meant the world to a five-year-old girl.

  But this game of hide and seek is different.

  Deadlier.

  Nevertheless, I can’t let him get too far ahead.

  I start moving again, ever the faithful tag-a-long. I've been following him through these woods for weeks now, wondering when he'll finally slip up and lead me to the person who allegedly holds the cure for this modern disaster in their veins. Sooner or later, he’ll make the right turn, or stumble down the right driveway, and all but fall into the lap of the one I so desperately need to find. I wonder how much farther I'll have to walk. How many more steps I’ll have to take before I finally see what salvation looks like, and if it’s big or small, or altogether fabricated?

  I pray I'll see it soon.

  When he opened the fourth seal, I heard the fourth living creature saying, “Come and see!” And behold, a pale horse, and the name of he who sat on it was Death. Hades followed with him. Authority over one fourth of the earth, to kill with the sword, with famine, with death, and by the wild animals of the earth was given to him.

  Revelation 6: 7-8

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Chloe

  It's mid-December, and the days are getting colder. Cold enough to need a fire even after the sun reaches the highest point in the sky. Cold enough to be painful without one. I should know...I haven’t felt heat from even the smallest of flames in nearly 28 hours.

  The guys are gone, which also explains why the fire is out.

  Yesterday morning, Daniel, Wayne, and Erek piled into the cab of the old box truck, waved goodbye, and set out for a town named Eden to search for supplies and food. There wasn't enough room in the cab of the truck for all of us, so I stayed behind. It wasn't a big deal. They were only supposed to be gone a couple of hours...three, tops...but they never came home.

  So, I spent last night alone.

  Without a fire.

  The constant chattering of my teeth suddenly made it seem like a very big deal.

  I keep telling myself there's no need to worry; they're just running late. They'll pull up any second now, and we’ll all laugh and wipe our brow as if
saying, shew, that was a close one! I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. Right now, I need to focus on the more immediate problem....warmth. Or lack thereof. The rain hasn't helped. Though I've grown slightly more resourceful since that horrifying afternoon when Harlan Downs gifted Everly, NC with an incurable disease, I can't get the soaked kindling to ignite. Erek warned me that lighters and matches wouldn't always be enough, but I didn't believe him. I thought I could figure it out.

  I can’t figure it out.

  This rain is different than the rain that poured down on us in September and October; it pelts my skin with tiny pieces of ice while I work feverishly to start a fire that refuses to cooperate. I throw the lighter down in disgust and yell, "Seriously!" as loud as I can to no one. My voice echoes around the empty camp like shotgun scatter before falling silent. Another angry shiver racks my exhausted body, and I suck in a sharp breath; my bruised skin aches from the steady beating of the winter rain. I sit back on my haunches and take a deep breath. Don't panic, Chloe. If I can stick it out a little longer, everything will be fine. The guys will come home, and Erek or Wayne will build a fire with a few jabs regarding my freshman attempt at fire craft, and my bones will finally thaw, and I won't feel so cold or alone...or useless.

  I stand and walk to the purple tent I call home. This is my new normal; living in the middle of the woods like a first-century nomad, hunting and gathering in the name of survival. It’s a far cry from the three-bedroom home I left behind. It’s barely large enough for me to stretch out in, and I’m only 5’4”. I could have grabbed a larger tent from Erek’s surplus store…one with built-in partitions to create separate rooms, like the one Daniel selected…but the extra space in those makes me feel more vulnerable than I already do.

  I unzip the tent and crawl inside.

  It's as simple inside as it is outside, furnished with only a sleeping bag and miscellaneous toiletries that ran empty months ago. I can't bring myself to throw any of them away; they're all I have left of what used to be my life. I pick up the empty tube of toothpaste and read the instructions and ingredients list. Again. I've read the label so many times I've practically memorized it. I'll keep reading it every day until this nightmare ends, or until I die, whichever comes first. I set the tube aside and take the lid off an empty bottle of shampoo and sniff the nozzle, trying to remember what my hair used to smell like when I washed it in this...and how happy I was the day Erek gave it to me.

  It all seems so long ago.

  A year ago, I couldn’t have imagined being in this tent, worrying about a fire I can’t start. A year ago, I would have been at an outlet mall, shopping for Christmas gifts for family and friends; or planning a date night with my boyfriend, Scott; or, chatting with my mom on the phone. A lot has changed in a year. Sadness seeps in like water through a small crack in the hull. If I allow too much of it in, I’ll sink. Everything that’s happened since May piles on top of me, and it’s all so heavy and sad...and scary. I wonder how long I can carry it around before it finally crushes me. I take a deep breath and release it slowly, trying to relieve some of the tension in my chest.

  All the worry in the world won’t bring the confirmation I so desperately need. My family and friends are out there...or they’re not. It’s simple, but so incredibly difficult to wrap my mind around. We were all separated during the early days of the incident, and once the cell towers failed, there was no way to communicate with anyone.

  We became little islands in an enormous sea of death and confusion.

  I'd like to believe Scott is in Everly, alive and well, surrounded by a group of kind strangers; trying to survive each day, just like me, but I doubt it's the truth. Most likely he died on May 14, or shortly thereafter; it’s the only scenario I can reconcile with the fact that he never tried to contact me. Maybe he's a Rev now, cursed to walk the earth forever, feeding a hunger that can't be satisfied.

  And my parents? I've spent so many months dragging Daniel, and anyone else I could convince to help us, toward a shelter in Asheville that may or may not still be standing, intent on finding my parents at the expense of almost everything else. We’re closer than ever, but we may as well be on another continent. Especially after Erek and Wayne confirmed my worst fears...Asheville has been overrun by Revs.

  I cup my hands and blow into them, trying to generate heat where there is none. I'm so cold. Even inside the tent, it's nearly unbearable. If the guys don't come back soon, I'll have to go look for them. I close my eyes and whisper a fervent prayer…for all the good it will do me. I close my eyes and move my fingertips around beside me until they brush the cover of the small Bible Erek gave me several weeks ago. You need to find a little bit of that faith you lost, Princess. I could hear the challenge in his words as he handed me the gift. I hated how right he was, but not as much as I hated the tiny voice in my head whispering it couldn’t be real.

  I used to think this virus was like other diseases that left their ugly mark on history. I remember reading about them in Mr. Hanvil’s AP History class…smallpox, cholera, the black death, and other plagues with names I can’t remember just now, but this virus feels different. Or, does it only feel different because I’m living it instead of reading about it in an outdated textbook? A hundred years from now, will my great-great-grandchildren read about this pandemic, shake their heads and utter a quick, “I can’t imagine how scared Granna Chloe must have been”, before heading outside for afternoon electives and forgetting all about me?

  I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I’ll drive myself crazy teasing the knot out of this tangled thread. I toss the small Bible into the corner of the tent, frustrated.

  "Come home, Daniel," I whisper.

  Chapter Two

  Chloe

  The rain stopped an hour ago.

  Finally.

  Everything is still wet, but at least the sun is out. Maybe it’ll stay out long enough to dry the kindling so I can build a fire tonight. If it doesn’t, I’ll need to gather more clothes and blankets from the guys tents to generate additional warmth. I thought I took enough last night, but by the time I realized I hadn’t, I was too cold to leave my tent. Plus, it was dark, and I was scared, so maybe that was the real reason I didn’t go looking for more blankets.

  I release a deep sigh. It’s okay. I’m okay, and the guys are okay, and after this is over, we’ll all be okay and yesterday and today will just be bad memories that we conveniently ignore for years to come.

  But for now, today is still today, and I am still alone.

  Lunch is a can of cold beans and a bag of stale potato chips. I wash it down with a bottle of flat soda. I don’t enjoy it. Everything tastes bland and boring these days, but is it because anything not canned is out of date, or is it because I’ve convinced myself that everything in this rotten world is spoiled? I finish the last of the soda and look toward the edge of the clearing. The leaves and needles of the evergreens dance in the afternoon breeze, while the naked branches of neighboring trees watch them with envy.

  I wonder if I’ll also be eating dinner alone. I have a feeling I will, which scares me, so I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about it. Instead, I chat with myself about the hateful weather and things I could do to pass the rest of the long, lonely day. In the end, I can’t decide whether to wash clothes or sweep the dirt in front of my tent, so I take the trash from my meager lunch, minus the tin can, to the small garbage compost just beyond the camp’s perimeter. It’s only about 100 yards away, but it feels much farther when you’re walking the distance alone...which I shouldn’t be. My fingers tighten around the crowbar I’ve been carrying since the box truck disappeared yesterday. Everything about my current situation, from being the only one at camp to walking this stretch of land alone, violates a rule we’ve lived by since May.

  Never go anywhere alone.

  Which brings me back to the dilemma I’ve been chewing on for the past two days. Why did they agree to leave me here alone? Granted, it was supposed to be a quick t
rip, but these days nothing is guaranteed. It’s not like hopping into the family station wagon for a quick run to the grocery store because you’re out of milk. There’s always a chance you might leave and not come back.

  So why did they leave me behind? A woman, completely alone in a haunted and hungry world. The simple answer is there’s no simple answer, and that’s what bothers me. I can’t figure it out. I take another step, then three more. I count each one because there’s nothing else to occupy my time, and for some odd reason, counting them makes me feel less alone. I focus on the sound the frozen stalks of grass make when they collapse under my boots. Crunch. My thoughts drift…carried a thousand miles away by the soft, steady sound. I remind myself that Daniel would never intentionally put me in harm’s way. He probably thought I would be safer at camp. But just as quickly I remind myself that my brother is one of the most intelligent people I know; he’s smart enough to know there’s potential for danger at the camp too. We haven’t had a perimeter breach in over a week, but they’re not unheard of. If a herd of Revs made its way this far up the mountain, I wouldn’t be able to fight them.

  Daniel knows this.

  So why did he leave me behind? It’s a real mystery. Is it because he’s tired of protecting me? Tired of worrying about me all the time? Tired of playing guardian to someone who can’t return the favor? Or, is it because something broke inside him when Meredith left?

  I reach the compost and toss what’s left of my dinner onto the small pile of trash. It’s not very high right now; Erek or Wayne must have burned the contents just before they left for Eden. I wasn’t a huge fan of this method at first. I argued that burning plastic and paper couldn’t be great for the environment until Erek reminded me that there probably wouldn’t be many people inheriting what we leave behind, and Revs don’t seem concerned with air quality, so I begrudgingly helped them set fire to the first pile of trash.