She rolls her eyes. "And Erek's never wrong, is he?"
"Chloe..."
"Look…I know the tents aren’t safe, and I know we need to relocate. Just promise me you'll consider looking for something nearby before we head clear across the state on nothing more than some rich man's theory. Please?"
"Chloe, it's not just a theory. Emily's dad..."
"He killed himself, Daniel. Think about that for a minute," she says. "He could have left for the coast months ago, but he didn't. Why? Then, he offs himself." She shakes her head. "You and Erek are so determined to leave camp that you're not paying attention to the details."
"I'm sure he had a good reason for not leaving sooner," I say, even though I can’t conjure up any possibilities right now.
She snorts. "I can't think of a single reason to stay behind if he had a better alternative."
"Emily's sister was dying."
We turn to find Landon standing a few feet away from us, his face ashen. Heat rises in Chloe’s cheeks, letting me know she feels as awful as I do about the overtly insensitive conversation that he obviously overheard.
"Landon, I'm sorry," Chloe says. "We didn't know you were standing there."
"What happened to Emily’s sister?" I ask. “Did she get bit?”
He sighs. "No. Her cancer returned at the end of April...more aggressive than the last time. She was scheduled to begin treatments in late-May. Obviously, that didn't happen," he adds quietly. "She was in agony. Especially after the pain medication ran out. There was no way she could travel that far.”
“So, you waited for her to die?”
He nods, obviously remembering his sister-in-law’s final moments. His voice cracks. “She suffered...a lot…and someone as kind and gentle as Lila should never have to suffer."
"What happened?" I ask, although I already know the answer.
"She died in the middle of the night…maybe a week ago now…but she didn't stay dead." He takes a minute to collect himself before continuing. "We didn’t think she would come back since she hadn’t been bitten. We weren’t watching for it.” He wipes his eyes. “She attacked Emily’s mother, Eleanor. Albert had no choice. He had to kill them both. I should have done it...I should have taken that burden from him, but I couldn't."
He stops, unable to continue.
Emily walks up. Her arms are crossed, and her face is twisted into an ugly sneer. "What my husband is trying to say is he froze up when it mattered most," she says coldly. "My father couldn't bear to live after murdering his youngest daughter and wife. So, he opted out, and in the span of one day, I lost my entire family."
"You still have Landon," I remind her.
Her lip twitches. "Yes. I still have Landon."
"Your dad didn't kill them, Emily. They weren’t themselves anymore," Chloe says, trying to comfort her.
"Dead is dead. No matter how it happens. Come on, darling." She turns on her heel and walks back to the tent. Landon follows obediently, head low, shoulders slumped. He looks completely defeated.
I turn back to Chloe. "Okay," I say.
"Okay what?"
"I'll consider something closer for the winter. But come spring, we're heading east."
Chapter Ten
Chloe
I'm sitting at the edge of camp where the highest peak overlooks the access road below. It's half past noon…maybe a little later, not earlier. The sun's heat feels good on my face; it contrasts nicely with the chill lingering in the air.
I'm watching a young woman make her way up the road.
Wayne's binoculars bring her closer. She's younger than she is older; she could pass for twenty-five, twenty-six. She has long, wavy brown hair, with highlights...the kind you can't buy at the salon. Her eyes are concealed by large, reflective sunglasses. Her lips are dry and cracked, and she's moving slow.
Too slow.
Dehydration.
I also notice her hand tightening around what looks to be a large gun. I'm still trying to learn the often-subtle differences between weapons. Erek has been trying to teach me, but I'm a slow learner when it comes to things that don't interest me. As far as I'm concerned, a gun is a gun, and the person holding it may or may not choose to end my life with it. So, I don't care about the specifics...I only want to make sure they don't get that chance.
Wayne joins me. "Whatcha got?" he asks.
I lower the binoculars. "A woman. Approaching from the east. At least, I think it's east."
"Is she that way?" he asks, pointing toward the road.
I nod.
"Then that's east." He drops down beside me and motions for me to hand him the binoculars. I sit quietly while he assesses the situation. "Seems to be alone," he says.
I take a sip of water from my canteen. "Maybe. Maybe not. I didn't see her until she popped out of the tree line."
He grunts and returns the binoculars. "Guess we'll find out soon 'nough."
I lift the binoculars again. "Let Daniel and Erek know. I'll keep an eye on her," I say without looking at him.
"Okay. I'll go find them."
I search for her again using the powerful lenses of the binoculars, but she's gone.
"Wayne!"
He stops and looks over his shoulder. "Yeah?"
"I don't see her anymore."
"Let me see those," he says.
A few seconds later, he hands the binoculars back, and says, "She's still there. Passed out cold or dead, though. I'll go down and get her."
"Are you sure you should?"
"If she passed out, she needs help. If she's dead, she needs to be dealt with."
He turns and heads down below to greet our unexpected guest, while I watch, and ponder how she found us in the first place.
* * *
Daniel
"I'm sorry about your family."
Emily doesn't look at me or respond. She just stares at the empty air in front of her and silently lets me know she couldn't care less about my attempt at polite conversation.
Or my awkward condolences.
Ever a glutton for punishment, I continue. "I lost a brother to cancer. It was a long time ago, though," I say. I don't know why I brought Ian into this, but it seemed important to let her know I understand how she feels. I want her to know that I’ve learned the hard way that cancer is a monster that devours not just the sick, but everything else in its path, too.
She turns to look at me. "Did your brother come back from the dead and eat your mother?"
I sigh. "Okay, this was a mistake. I'll leave you..."
"Wait."
I pause…half-sitting, half-standing. "Yes?" I ask.
She looks straight ahead, not meeting my eyes. I think I see tears in her eyes, but I’m not entirely sure she’s capable of showing emotion other than hostility. She sighs. "I'm sorry," she says. "I shouldn't have lashed out at you. You were just trying to be polite."
I sit, slowly, in case she suddenly turns on me again.
"I'm sorry…about your brother," she says stiffly.
I nod, but don't speak.
She straightens her back. "Lila was the favorite, you know. Everyone always went on and on about how beautiful and talented she was. She played the violin," she says, looking at me. This time there’s no mistaking the tears in her blue eyes. "And what was I good at? Nothing. Absolutely nothing," she finishes, bitterly.
"I'm sure that's not true," I say, trying to make her feel better.
She snorts. "It’s true. I'm just the daughter who wasn't worth sticking around for." She wipes a tear from her cheek. "He wishes it had been me instead," she says after a long silence.
"Even if your father favored your sister, I doubt he'd want either of you to die," I say.
"I wasn't talking about my father."
She stands and walks to her tent. I can tell from the way her shoulders tremble that she's crying, albeit silently. Whether she's mourning her family or her marriage, I may never know.
Chapter Eleven
Allyson
I was walking.
I think.
I don't remember why, though.
Or to where.
Was I looking for something?
Maybe, but if so, what?
I don't know. Everything is fuzzy...just a black hole where memory should be. I open my eyes to a light so bright it's painful. The silhouette of a man floats above me, suspended in air and framed by a halo of white light.
Did I finally die? Is that what this is? Just like that…one minute alive, the next snuffed out like I never existed. I wonder how it happened. Maybe I died at the farm...but no, I left the farm...didn't I? Yes. I left the farm. So, I must have died somewhere else. I feel a set of strong, solid hands on my arms, shaking me.
"Hey. Can you hear me?"
I always wondered what the first few seconds of the afterlife would be like. I've read about Heaven...all good Christians have...but, I always wondered. Would I see my grandparents? Or, my friend who died when we were just kids? Would it be confusing?
"Hello?"
I try to focus on the shape hovering above me. "God?"
A short laugh followed by a "not hardly" clears the fog. I remember now. I'm not dead. I was walking...chasing a pillar of smoke in the mountain sky. My arms and legs are pinned to the cold ground. A swell of panic rises in my chest, and I utter a broken and thirsty scream. I try to wriggle free, struggling blindly, until my vision clears enough to reveal a road-worn man kneeling on his knees beside me. His strong hands are locked around each of my wrists like handcuffs.
"Hold on, now. Easy," he says.
I stop fighting. In my weakened state he's too strong for any of my thrashing to matter, and it's wasting energy I might need. I lay as still as I possibly can. Only my labored breathing cuts the silence around us.
"If I let you go will I regret it?" he asks.
"It...depends," I manage. My throat feels like shredded cheese.
"I'm not gonna hurt you, so be cool. Okay?"
I nod. He releases my arms and leans back on his heels. He has long, shaggy brown hair, and a short beard. I catch a glimpse of a worn shoulder holster when the wind catches his leather jacket.
"Who...are you?"
"Name's Wayne. You?"
"Alli..." I clear my throat. "Allyson." I lick my cracked lips. "I saw smoke..."
"Yeah, I warned them 'bout that." He turns and spits, then looks back at me. "Think you can walk?"
I try to sit up, but I'm dizzy. So dizzy. I fall back to the ground, exhausted. "I think...I…think…I just need to rest a little while longer," I say.
"Not here, you don't. It's not safe."
He lifts me off the ground. After a few quick adjustments, he begins walking up the road. A couple of minutes pass, but it seems longer than that. Maybe because I haven't been this close to another person in a long time...not willingly, anyway. I rest my head on his shoulder. Not because I want to, but because I can't hold my head up another second. It feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, and all of it aching. I breathe in the scent of leather and the faded aroma of tobacco and campfire mixed with sweat.
"Almost there," he says.
I lift my head long enough to see a group of colorful tents bordering a campfire and a large box truck parked a couple yards away. And people. It's just a small group...maybe 5 or 6 people, total. But I know from experience that looks can be deceiving. I tighten every muscle in my body, instinctively preparing myself for a fight.
He must sense my unease, because he says "you'll be safe here" like there's no reason in the world not to believe him.
But he hasn't seen the things I've seen.
Or known the survivors I’ve known.
My face is nearly touching his. His eyes are a dark blue...which should be a happy color...but his seem sad. I want to trust him, but how many times have I been fooled? No more. Being naive in this world will get you killed. Or worse.
"I don't like strangers," I whisper.
"Me neither. But what choice do you have?" he asks.
I don't respond, because the truth is, I'm fresh out of choices. They all vanished when the world caved in seven months ago.
Chapter Twelve
Allyson
I'm dreaming about the farm, with its hidden rooms and monsters, when something...maybe the terrified gallop of my own heart...wakes me. I open my eyes and blink a few times. A man's face comes into focus, slowly at first, then suddenly. I jump, startled. Who is...?
Wait, I remember.
He goes by Wayne. If he gave me a last name, I've forgotten it. He rescued me from the road. He looks concerned...or maybe he's been concerned for so long his face finally froze like that.
Why am I on my back?
I close my eyes, trying to clear my thoughts. When I open them again, I ask, "What happened?"
"You passed out again."
Okay, yeah...that explains why I'm horizontal and the dull headache budding behind my eyes. I turn my head to the left. From where I lay, I can see the camp, but it's smaller now, which indicates distance...how much distance, I'm not sure. I shift my attention back to my immediate surroundings. I'm lying in what appears to be a smaller, secondary camp. There's a blue tent to my left, and a small fire burning on my right. I pull myself into a sitting position. A wave of nausea rushes over me. I close my eyes and breathe deeply until the sensation passes.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod. I open my eyes and look around. "What's this? The island of misfits?" I ask.
He snorts. "Somethin' like that. How long's it been since you had a drink?" he asks.
“Too long. I was always partial to white wine, if you’re offering.”
“I was talkin’ ‘bout water.”
"I know. A day? Maybe two?" I shake my head. "I'm not sure. I'm having a hard time remembering."
"You're dehydrated...probably confused." He twists the cap off a black canteen. "So, here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna drink this slowly, okay?"
I nod.
He lifts the canteen to my lips and pours a tiny bit of water into my mouth. I feel like it's been years since I had anything to drink, even though I know that's impossible. It couldn't have been more than a few days but narrowing it down to this day or that day seems just as impossible. I think I still had water in my canteen...I had a canteen, didn't I...yesterday, or was it the day before?
Again, I'm not entirely sure.
"Better?" he asks.
"I...I think so."
“How did you manage to go without water in the mountains? After a spell of rain, at that?”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “I drank from a stream a few days ago, but it made me sick. I haven’t been able to keep anything down since.”
“You didn’t boil it first?”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t thinking. Dumb, I know.” And it’s true, I wasn’t thinking. Not about water, anyway. I was only worried about distance, and how much of it I could put between me and the farm.
I was careless.
He leans back, studying me for a few minutes. Just when I start to get incredibly uncomfortable, he says, "You're lucky Chloe peeped you on the road today."
I massage my temples. "I can't believe I was that foolish. If you all hadn't found me..."
"A Rev would be digestin' you right about now," he finishes.
"Rev?"
"That's what we call 'em 'round here. Short for Revenant."
I consider the name for a moment. "That's actually a pretty accurate moniker," I say, reaching for the canteen.
This time he lets me hold it myself. "A what?"
I take a drink. "I just meant it's a good name for them," I say, once I'm finished.
He stands and wipes his hands on his pants. "Alright then. Find a place to set up. I'll introduce you to everyone once you're settled."
I look across the meadow. There's a scattering of people standing around, presumably waiting to meet me. They look nice enough. I see a young woman with long brow
n hair wearing a concerned expression like Wayne's, staring at us in curiosity; a tall, lean man who favors the young woman is also watching us intently; and a second man, dressed in cargo pants, just looks bored.
I feel overwhelmed. Exposed…like something on display. The way I used to feel at the farm once my secret wasn’t a secret anymore. I turn to Wayne. "Please don't make me go over there," I plead.
He helps me to my feet. "Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You can set up here…on the island of misfits," he says with a shy smile. "But sooner or later you're gonna have to meet them. Like it or not."
* * *
Chloe
I take another look at the woman standing in front of Wayne. It looks like she’s asking him something. Maybe a favor. She looks stressed…like a wild animal that unexpectedly found itself tangled in a trap. She looks desperate, and desperation can make someone do crazy things.
"Do you think she's dangerous?"
Erek shakes his head. "Nah. She's just like us...walking around, searching for something that makes sense in this godforsaken world."
I look at him. "And what would that be?"
"What would what be?" he asks.
"What's she searching for?" I ask.
"How should I know?"
"But if you had to guess," I prompt him.
He stops whittling the piece of wood in his hand and looks at me, irritated. "What's this? Our afternoon play time?"
I nudge him in the side. "Come on, Erek...you mean to tell me you're not just a little curious about her?” I ask with a smile. “What she's been through? Who she was traveling with before she found us?"
"Nope. Not even a little," he says.
I wave him off. "Whatever. You're no fun."
Daniel laughs. "You do realize you're talking to Erek, right?"
Erek spits into his cup and begins whittling the piece of wood again. "Yeah, yeah. Go get the cans. It's time to start dinner."
Revenants Series (Book 2): Remnants Page 5
