Revenants Series (Book 2): Remnants

by Elisabeth, Lee

  “Containment, remember?”

  “Right.”

  A sick feeling washes over me. They’ll kill us for trying to save our lives. They think we’ll spread the infection…perpetuate the outbreak. They’ll do anything to stop that from happening. The sound of gunfire in the distance drives that point home. Other military units...how many, I don’t know...are out there, somewhere, making sure others don’t leave the city. I’ve never been more scared in my life. Mostly because I don’t know what awaits us beyond these doors.

  Nevertheless, it’s time to go. I look at Aiden.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  I nod. Together, we push the doors open and run blindly into the dark night.

  June 1, 2019

  Aiden and I watched the shelter burn yesterday.

  We’ve been hiding in a nearby loft, waiting for the right time to escape the city. The streets are littered with abandoned cars, dead bodies, and items that were probably looted, but got left behind in the frenzy. That’s not what’s keeping us here, though. Germs are 200-deep in every direction. We keep looking out the window, trying to figure out a way to escape without getting killed in the process.

  That’s what we were doing when we saw the flames.

  They were two days behind schedule. I’ll never know what the holdup was. Maybe they couldn’t pull the proverbial trigger, knowing they would be condemning innocent people to death. Decency didn’t win, though. The fire scarred the sky orange and red and black, as if painted by an artist’s hand; it was almost beautiful, until the distant screams made it ugly.

  “Do you think she got out?” I ask Aiden.

  He knows who I’m talking about. The woman, with her quiet confidence and murdered husband. I miss her. I miss the way she always made me feel like a cure was just around the next bend in the road. I miss the way she always made me believe I might outlive this nightmare.

  Aiden shakes his head. “I think she’s gone. Like Earl…like everyone else.”

  I press my forehead against the cool glass. “We should have brought them with us.”

  “Then we’d all be dead.”

  My empty stomach growls loudly. I sigh. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “No kidding.”

  I step away from the window. “I’m serious, Aiden. Let’s go find a car that works and get out of the city.”

  “That simple, huh?” he asks with a smile.

  “Yes. We’ll use the roof to travel to the end of the street. I’ve been looking out the window…there’s a car dealership on the corner lot. I can see its sign rising just above the roofline.” I glance at the flames still lingering over the shelter. “The Germs seem to be heading toward the fire. Maybe we can get out while they’re distracted.”

  He laughs. “That’s actually a pretty good plan.”

  I stand. “I’ll go. It won’t be as dangerous for me.”

  He shakes his head. “No way.”

  “Aiden, you know I’m the only one of us who can survive a bite.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want you going out alone.”

  The worry in his eyes is endearing, but we don’t have time to for worry…every second that passes is a second longer than we should have stayed. We’ve got to get out of this loft before we’re too hungry to travel. I already feel weak. What happens when we’re too weak to walk, let alone run?

  “I’ll be fine. I promise. But you’re staying put,” I say. I open the door to the loft. “Oh, and I’ll be driving fast when I come back for you, so get to the fire escape and be ready to jump in. It won’t be safe to come to a complete stop.”

  “Who is this brave woman standing in front of me?” he asks in wonder.

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not brave. I’m scared senseless.”

  “What changed, then?” he asks. “You seem…different.”

  “I’m not different, Aiden. I’m just tired of sitting around waiting to die, like I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

  I walk through the door before he has a chance to say anything else.

  In the hallway, I pause, listening for any sounds that shouldn’t be here. I don’t hear anything. I swallow the lump of fear lodged in my throat. I felt a lot braver when I was just talking about this plan…now, being out here alone, I feel nervous and small, and ill-prepared for such a significant task.

  I follow the exit signs to a metal door at the end of the hall. I open it slowly and peek into the stairwell. I don’t see anything, but I can hear a Germ somewhere below, maybe three or four flights down. That’s okay. I’m not going down. I quickly climb the remaining two flights of stairs until I reach the roof access. The sunlight that greets me when I open the door is bright and cheery, but the stench of death and rot hangs in the air like a bad omen. I stand still for a moment, trying to slow my breathing and heart rate. To my left, I see the sign for the dealership peaking over the roofline, just like I remembered. I begin making my way toward it.

  When I reach the end of the roof, I discover a narrow alley separating the loft and the dealership. I hadn’t anticipated that…I thought the buildings were connected…but it is what it is. Below, hundreds of Germs limp up and down the street in front of the dealership. Some look fresh, others look like they’ve been dead for several weeks; their clothes are shredded, and their skin is peeled back from their bones like tinfoil around a baked potato. I can’t look at them without feeling the urge to vomit, so I turn my attention to the inventory parked just outside the dealership. The cars in the lot aren’t shiny anymore...some of the windshields are busted, and a few cars are completely burned. I start to worry there might not be any suitable transportation left in the lot.

  Just when I begin to lose hope, I notice a large, extended cab truck with a lift kit sitting at the far end of the lot. It’s near the exit, like it was put there just for us. I study the make and model, committing the details to memory, then I turn and walk to the nearest roof access door. It’s locked. Figures. I look around, searching for something I can use to break the knob. A long metal rod leans against the roof wall a few feet away. Its length will make it awkward to swing, but it’ll have to do. I check the roof again before going to retrieve it…luckily, I’m still alone.

  Back at the door, I strike the handle repeatedly until it falls from the door like a severed limb. I wait for a minute, holding my breath, listening for sounds in the stairwell and praying the noise didn’t draw any unwanted attention. Hearing nothing, I descend the stairs until I reach the first floor. Now I just need to make it across the alley to the side door of the dealership.

  I hope it’s unlocked.

  I check both directions. Germs are walking past each end of the alley, but they still seem focused on the inferno at the shelter. None of them notice me crouched in the alley. I creep toward the glass door set in the side of the building, marked “SERVICE DEPARTMENT”; it’s unlocked. I open it slowly, looking around.

  I’m looking for the key box.

  I finally see it hanging on the far wall, near the managers desk.

  Of course.

  I make my way across the showroom to the metal box. I can’t help but notice the Germs just outside the glass walls of the dealership. They’re so close. I feel like I could reach out and touch them if I wanted to. Their decaying bodies are a canvas of varying shades of gray; their eyes are vacant, and their clothes are torn...some are completely naked, like they died in the shower or while making love.

  The door to the key box swings open with a loud groan. It takes a few minutes, but I finally locate the key for the truck. So far, so good. Now I just have to make it outside and into the truck, then get back to Aiden, all without getting trapped.

  Easy enough.

  A low growl stops me in my tracks.

  I turn around just in time to see a Germ lumbering toward me. It seems faster in the low light of the dealership. I jerk back, hitting my head hard against the metal key box. The Germ keeps staggering forward. I look around, franticly searchin
g for a weapon. I race toward the nearest desk and grab the keyboard, turning just as the Germ reaches for me. I swing the keyboard as hard as I can. The impact jars my elbow as the plastic connects with the Germ’s face.

  Undeterred, it grabs my neck, burning a nasty gash into my skin with its black fingernails.

  It’s incredibly strong…before I know it, I’m flat on my back staring at the name Eddie stitched onto the right breast of a soiled mechanics shirt. I push against him as hard as I can, but I may as well be pushing against a brick wall.

  I cry out as the last of my strength fades.

  It’s over.

  I’m done.

  The muscles in my arms tremble, and I can feel my joints buckling under the fatigue of this very unfair wrestling match. Finally, I let my arms fall and the Germ, with its rotten, filthy breath collapses on top of me. I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for the attack, but instead I hear the crunch of bone, and the Germ falls on top of me, crushing me under its weight.

  I open my eyes to see Aiden standing over us, iron bar in hand.

  “I wasn’t going to let you have all the fun, Alli,” he says with a smile.

  My head falls back to the hard floor. I’m exhausted. I lift the keys in the air. “We’re in the black truck. Lift kit.”

  He throws the Germ off me, grabs the keys and helps me to my feet. I can smell the scent of the Germ all over me. It’s disgusting.

  “Can you make a run for it?” he asks.

  I take a few deep breaths, trying to regulate my breathing. “I think so,” I say.

  He hits the door remote for the truck from inside the building. Its lights flash twice before going dark again. “On the count of three. One, two, three…”

  We spill out into the parking lot, all arms and legs and pounding hearts. Three Germs notice the commotion and begin lumbering toward us. I jump into the passenger seat and pray I picked a truck with gas in the tank.

  Two of the three Germs reach the truck and begin pounding on my door and window. I lean away from the window. “Aiden…” I say.

  “I know, I know!” he yells. “I’m hurrying.”

  Finally, the engine roars to life and he puts it in drive, speeding out of the parking lot and onto the main road. I watch the three Germs in the side mirror. They’re growing smaller the farther we go. Once they’re out of sight completely, I allow myself to release the breath I had been holding.

  “Where will we go now?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Don’t know. I just hope we survive getting out of the city.”

  June 2, 2019

  Aiden is sitting in the driver’s seat, squinting against the late afternoon sun as it burns through the windshield. We’re parked in the middle of a narrow mountain road, trying to decide whether to keep moving up, or turn around and head back down the mountain. It’s getting dark, and we haven’t found shelter for the night. Aiden is thinking…mulling over various options…but judging by his furrowed brow, he’s not drawing any helpful conclusions.

  “I can’t believe we haven’t found a place to stay yet,” I say.

  He looks at me. “Doesn’t look like tonight is going to be our lucky night, either. Pretty remote area,” he adds.

  “Yeah, but you’d think there would be something. Maybe we should have headed down the mountain instead of up.”

  “I don’t like the idea of being on low ground,” he says. “There might not be a lot of suitable houses up this way, but there’s not many Germs, either.”

  “I guess.”

  “Alli, trust me. Okay?” His blue eyes hold my gaze. “We’re safer on the mountain.”

  “I trust you, Aiden. I just don’t like the idea of sleeping in the truck again.”

  He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a pack of peanuts. “Dinner?” he asks with a smile.

  I take the small packet. “Do you ever miss fast food?” I ask as I tear into the plastic.

  “I’m vegetarian…so, no.”

  “Of course you are,” I say, smiling. “I bet you wrote sad love songs in your spare time, too.”

  He cuts his eyes at me. “That’s not stereotypical at all.”

  I shrug. “For what it’s worth, I bet you were the cutest emo boy at work.”

  He laughs. “First, I’m a man, not a boy. Second, I’m not emo…I just like black t-shirts. Third, I worked alone before the world ended, so I would have been the cutest by default. Not really something to brag about it.”

  I pop one of the peanuts into my mouth and chew it slowly, savoring the small bit of energy it provides. “Where did you work? Was it an underground art studio? A vape shop? A pet store?”

  He makes a face. “A pet store?”

  I shrug. “I’m trying to think of trendy businesses in the city.”

  “Bent Needle,” he says.

  I know the place. It was an up-and-coming tattoo parlor in downtown Asheville before it closed its doors for good on May 13. Considering Aiden’s inked skin, it makes sense he would specialize in skin art. “Yeah, that seems more believable than you owning a pet store,” I admit.

  “I always dreamed of going out on my own,” he says, ignoring me. “Saved for years to make it happen. Guess I’ll never know if I would have been able to keep it going or not.”

  He’s right. There’s a long list of things we’ll never know. He’ll never know if his business would have beat the first-five-years odds, and I’ll never know if the elusive hot guy from the apartment down the hall would have talked to me if the world hadn’t collapsed on top of us one Friday evening.

  “We’re getting low on gas,” I say, peering at the gas gage.

  Aiden pulls the truck to the side of the road. We’re dangerously near the edge. I peer out the window; it’s a straight drop down the side of the mountain. “We’re stopping here?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

  “Um, maybe because if we turn the wrong way, we’ll fall over the side of the mountain.”

  “Better hope we turn the right way, then.”

  “Aiden, seriously.” I feel a swell of panic rising in my chest. I don’t want to stop here. It’s not safe. It can’t be safe, sitting on the edge of a 500-foot drop.

  “This is the perfect spot,” he reasons.

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Have you seen a Germ climb a mountain?”

  “Well, no, but…”

  “You stretch out across the back seat,” he says, cutting me off. “I’ll sleep up here.”

  We settle into our beds for the night. I look up at the roof of the truck, listening to Aiden settle into the front seat. Shadows roll across the ceiling; each time the wind shakes the trees surrounding us, the shadows bend and dance while a symphony of crickets provide the tune. It’s peaceful. Farther away, I hear gunshots and the steady hum of a helicopter. I imagine soldiers tearing through the city, shooting Germs and exterminating survivors as their hysteria reaches a fever pitch. My chest hurts…like my heart shattered, and the only thing left of who I used to be is laying in pieces at the bottom of my ribs. If Aiden hadn’t overheard the soldiers talking that night, we might have died in the shelter, like all the others.

  Like the woman who lost her husband, but not her hope.

  “What are you thinking about?” Aiden asks from the front seat.

  “The shelter.”

  My throat is tight. It feels like a new leather glove that still needs to be broken in. I want to cry, but I’ve decided that tears are a waste, and they don’t change anything anyway.

  “What about the shelter?” he asks.

  “Just how glad I am we left when we did,” I say.

  “Yeah. We lucked out.”

  “Did we?” I ask. I shake my head. “I’m not sure anymore. Maybe we just delayed the inevitable.”

  “We can’t outrun our fate, Alli. What’s meant to happen will happen.”

  After that, he falls silent. A few minutes later, I hear him snoring softly in the front seat. I lay there,
thinking, turning his words over and over in my head, first one way…then another. No matter how I look at them, they tell the same sad truth.

  Aiden and I are going to die.

  It’s only a matter of when.

  June 5, 2019

  The truck runs out of gas, for the second time, at a lonely stop sign in the middle of nowhere.

  It’s mid-morning.

  The gas can in the bed is empty.

  We sit in the cab for a minute, forced into a worried silence, each contemplating the next best move but afraid to say what we’re really thinking…we don’t have a clue of what to do next. A green sign planted on the opposite side of the road provides two options; Lowell to the right, Eden to the left.

  “Coin toss?” Aiden asks.

  I look at the miles posted in white beside each town. “It says Lowell is only four miles. Eden is nine,” I say. “I vote Lowell.”

  “Less distance is good,” he agrees. “Hopefully we’ll find some gas, or another ride closer to town.”

  Destination decided, we climb out of the truck and start walking toward a town I’ve never heard of before today. The June sun is hot, and the air is dry; we’re pouring sweat within thirty minutes…shedding moisture we can’t afford to lose.

  I’m thirsty. Thirty minutes later, I’m panting. Gas is the least of our worries. If we don’t find water soon, I won’t be able to keep walking. Movement in the distance catches my attention. It looks like a small group of people. I glance at Aiden to see if he’s noticed them. He has.

  “Can you tell if they’re alive?” I ask him.

  “They’re limping…moving slow…but they could just be tired, like us,” he says, squinting into the distance.

  “Should we turn around?”

  “I didn’t walk this far just to turn around,” he says.

  “What if they’re armed?” I ask, worried.

  Aiden shrugs and keeps walking, determined to move forward. As the distance between us lessens, one of the travelers throws a hand up in greeting. I feel a shot of relief run through my veins, chased closely by fear…so they’re not Germs, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous.