“Where would we go?” I asked.
“Somewhere. Anywhere. If we survived there has to be others who might have as well,” Kyle said. “Maybe there is somewhere safe, maybe there isn’t, but I knew that this place - while it might seem safe right now, it won’t be safe forever. Besides,” he said. “You will eventually get bored of my company.”
I looked at Kyle and for a moment he seemed as serious as the grave but soon his lips curled slightly, and he laughed. I couldn’t help it, I laughed as well. It had been a long time since I had laughed or heard anyone laugh. It felt good, even if it was just for a moment. When the laughing was done the serious talks continued until we had a plan in the works.
Kyle took the first watch while I rested after we properly cast my leg. For the first time since this all began, I actually slept through the night. When Kyle woke me at 5am for my watch I actually felt rested. I watched him as he went to lay down where Dr. Harron used to sleep. In a few hours I would be leaving the hospital for the last time.
I waited until I could hear the sound of soft snores before I got carefully to my feet and left the morgue, heading to the crematorium. The flame burned low, whatever gas had been left in the reserves for the hospital was slowly burning out. Crossing the room, I turned the gas off, all that was left was a pile of ashes where Dr. Harron had been less than twelve hours before.
As I stood there staring at the ashes of my mentor and friend, I realized just how easy it was for everything to suddenly be gone. That nothing in this world was ever made to be forever. All we could do was enjoy what we had, when we had it, nothing more. Turning away from the oven I returned to the morgue, Kyle was still sound asleep, and I returned to where I had been sitting.
Reaching into my pack I pulled out a blank journal. I had planned to start journaling long before the world had gone to hell but could never find the time. As my life had changed completely and I was no longer splitting my time between friends, family, work, and a social life, I decided there was no better time to start then now.
Putting the pen to paper I began writing. Dear journal. The world ended months ago, but I feel maybe life is finally about to begin.
.EIGHT.
Nothing is What It Seems
The hospital was behind us, off in the distance, before I turned my head for the first time to look back. I had been dreading the feelings that would come up but to my surprise nothing surfaced. It was like a value had been turned off inside me. I swore I would never cry again the morning Kyle helped me climb carefully up to where the ladder had fallen inside the shaft and then across the makeshift ledge, he had made to the elevator doors.
Kyle had gone first, made sure the first floor from the elevator to the front doors was clear before letting me up. I fussed about it because it was a dangerous move, but he said it was for the best. Whatever had up wandering the upper floors of the hospital had either moved in another part or had departed completely.
The journey from the hospital was slow at first until I could manage through the rubble with the help of Kyle and crutches, we had taken from the emergency room. We had kept moving from sunrise until the sun hung lowly on the horizon.
Now as I started back at the hospital, barely in view far off in the distance, there was no emotional response. Everything that I had that was in that hospital, the friends and colleagues, there were all dead and gone.
“We can hold up in here,” I heard Kyle say behind me.
Turning around I noticed he was standing near what looked like a restaurant, the windows were blown out and the building next to it was nothing more than rubble. Although there were no windows, the inside of the small restaurant looked intact. Perhaps we would find food that had not yet spoiled. Most of it would have, of course, the bombs fell months ago, and other survivors would have likely looted any place that looked like it could be looted.
“I don’t want to spend the night out here in the open,” Kyle said. “On the streets. We have been lucky enough to not have come across any threats, but that doesn’t mean they are not out there waiting.”
Kyle was right and it wouldn’t just be whatever lived in this world now, other humans, not turned, survivors, looking for a way to keep going could also be a threat. One of the types of people Dr. Harron had mentioned, the ones who did anything to survive including killing others, those were the people that would scare me the most. Slowly, using the crutches to keep me level, I climbed over the rubble as carefully as I could, heading towards Kyle.
“Do you know this place?” I asked Kyle as he stood in front of the shattered windows.
“I do,” Kyle said. “I used to come here every weekend with my grandmother before she passed. It was an old-style diner. A jewel lost in the concrete jungle, that’s what my grandmother use to say. She loved things that took her back to her childhood, to simpler times.”
Kyle seemed lost within his own thoughts. Reaching out I placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. He turned to me and smiled, softly, but in his eyes, I could see the same pain I knew hid within me.
“Let’s go inside,” I said. “The sun will be gone soon, and this world already scares me during the day, I don’t want to be out in the open during the night.” Kyle nodded and started forward, pushing past the door which leaned against the frame on a single hinge. Following him I looked back out across the destruction and carnage that we had just travelled through.
Off in the distance, towards the hospital, I thought I saw movement. It was small, quick, but it was there. Squinting I tried my best to catch a glimpse of it again, it was gone. Perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me; perhaps not, either way we were both exhausted and my leg throbbed with pain. Leaving behind the broken world I headed inside, following Kyle towards the back of the restaurant.
“What's wrong?” Kyle asked me. “You look like you seen a ghost?”
I was going to say I thought I had but I decided not too and simply shook my head. If I said I’d seen something Kyle may feel inclined to check it out, leaving me here alone and risking his life. I would not allow another person to die risking their life for me.
“Just sore,” I said rubbing my leg. “And exhausted. There's a door at the back,” I said pointing towards the back of the restaurant. “Perhaps we can fortify a bathroom or if the kitchen is enclosed that. I don't want to risk something getting in at us and,” I said as Kyle covered his mouth yawning. “Neither of us have enough energy to fight off, as you put it, human but not human creatures.”
Kyle nodded rubbing his neck. “I'll see if I can get some of the booth cushions off; they will make sleeping a little more comfortable than the floor. You can check the kitchen and bathroom,” he said holding out the fun grip first. “But be extra careful. Bullets don't like enclosed spaces.”
I headed towards the kitchen first while Kyle started on the booth cushions. Drawing close to the door I flicked the safety on the gun. For the most part the restaurant was cleared of debris. It really did seem as if it had been spared the worst of the world ending.
Reaching the kitchen door, I peered through the small porthole into the dark kitchen. It was dark beyond the door, the kitchen, it seemed, was lost in the darkness. Pressing my ear against the door I closed my eyes and concentrated; listening for anything that would suggest something, or someone, was in the darkness.
Pushing the door open just a crack I stopped and listened again. It was faint but it was there. I could hear it, somewhere in the darkness someone was breaking rapidly. Closing the door slowly I backed away quietly, turning towards Kyle.
“Hey,” I said in a low whisper. I said it twice more, a little louder each time and finally Kyle looked up. He seemed about to say something, but he must have read the look on my face because he stayed quiet. “Kitchen,” I said. “Breathing.”
Kyle got quickly to his feet, placing himself between me and the kitchen the way a parent would stand between their child and danger.
Oh no, I thought to myself. He's
one of those people like Dr. Harron. Of the two kinds of people Dr. Harron described, it seemed Kyle was one of the ones who would sacrifice his own life to save others and now he was risking his life for me.
I was about to tell him to stop but he had already crossed the room and was leaning against the door. He placed his finger against his lips motioning for me to stay quiet. Though I noticed it now, I had not, noticed that Kyle had a flashlight in his hand.
Flicking the flashlight on Kyle stood foot against the door and peered in through the porthole window. Quickly he put his gun away and disappeared into the kitchen, I followed as best I could, pushing through the door.
I found Kyle consoling a young child. The child was caked in dirt and crying holding onto Kyles leg for dear life. My best guess put the child about eight years old. Letting the door close I approached Kyle and the child; when the child saw me, she recoiled as if bitten by a snake.
“Calm down,” Kyle said trying to sooth the little girl. “This is Joanne, she is a friend of mine. We won't let anything harm you.” Shaking like a leaf, the little girl sobbed into Kyle's shoulder.
I wanted to gather the scared little girl up, hold her and promise her everything would be alright - but I couldn't, that promise could never be certain to be kept. She reminded me of my niece, poor little thing.
“I know it will,” the little girl said; her tears were gone, the sobbing stopped. “For me.” The girl pulled back from Kyle a half grin on her lips.
Strong arms wrapped around me and the sound of gun hammers being pulled into place echoed throughout the kitchen. Kyles hands were in the arm, the fun dangling from his hand.
“Tie him up,” a deep commanding voice called from behind me. “Take the girl and lock her up, we will question her first. Make sure our friend her,” I assumed her meant Kyle. “Doesn't try any funny business.”
Two men, a larger one and a smaller one, came out from behind me flashlights aimed at Kyle. They took his gun and his pack, wrapping coiled wire around his wrists. Kyle tried to speak but the larger man swung his meaty fist, hitting Kyle hard in the stomach knocking the wind out of him.
I cried out and tried to run to Kyle but the man behind me pressed what felt like the barrel of a gun to the back of my head. “Unless you'd rather just die here,” I heard him say. “I suggest you cooperate.”
Standing still I kept my arms at my sides, shaking as I watched them tie Kyles hands behind his back, not to kindly, before dragging him to his feet. Kyle coughed as he tried to catch his breath. The little girl, the one who Kyle had tried to console simply skipped by me with a big grin on her face, sticking out her tongue as she went by.
I fought back the urge to grab the little girl by the hair and… my thoughts trailed off into the darkness, what had I become? Thoughts of killing a child, even though the child had given us over to people we knew nothing about. Nothing was what it seemed anymore, even defenseless children were nothing more than traps to draw in caring people.
If we get out of this, I wondered to myself, how could I become the person that Dr. Harron wanted me to be if I would never be able to trust anyone we came across. Kyle was half dragged out of the kitchen before I was shoved to follow him.
There was a pickup truck out front that was started and loaded with what looked like supplies. The truck, when we had entered the diner had been empty and looked like it had crashed into the broken wall across the street. Had it all been a setup then? I wondered. Nothing is what it seems, those words repeated over and over in my thoughts.
“Get moving,” a gruff voice said behind me and the man who spoke shoved me forward. I stumbled forward almost pitching forward into the street.
“My leg is broken,” I snapped back. “I can’t just get moving.” Bad idea. The man’s fist caught me in the jaw, sprawling me out on the ground. Stars exploded in my vision. Another man, most likely the one who had spoken to us in the first place came out of the diner and drawing his gun shot the one who had hit me in the head. Blood and brain matter sprayed on my clothes. I wanted to scream, to vomit, but I simply closed my eyes trying to get the spinning to stop.
“Get her up and in the truck,” the man who had spoken original said. “I don’t need these people dead before we get back to the safe house. Anyone else try a stunt like old John here did and you too can end up the winner of an extra hole in your head, you get me.”
There were grunts of understanding and okays before strong arms grabbed me and pulled me to my feet. I was led by the arm, like a scolded child, and helped into the back of the truck where Kyle leaned against the cab. Was this what we had left the confinement of the hospital’s basement for, to be taken hostage, likely to be killed.
Kyles left eye was beginning to swell, one of the men must have hit him when I had my eyes closed. He probably tried to come to my rescue when the man hit me and had paid the price for it, after all his hands were bound behind his back.
Three men piled boxes of recovered items in the back of the truck before jumping in with us; a fourth man, likely the leader, and the young girl hopped in the cab. Everyone loaded, the truck backed away from the apparent accident, which had been staged, and headed westward.
“Get up,” a gruff voice said harshly.
I opened my eyes, realizing I had fallen asleep. Looking around I didn't recognize anything. After we had turned westward, we had rounded the corner and gone northward - I was totally lost.
One of the men who had jumped in the truck with us climbed back into the truck and pulled Kyle to his feet, shoving him towards the back of the truck where he tripped, sprawling on the ground. The men laughed at Kyle, I wanted to scream for them to shut up, but Kyle spoke first.
“Tough guys when your victims tied up and there are more than one of you,” Kyle spit at the feet of the men. One was starting towards him when I heard the click-click-click, the sound of a gun cocking.
“Do we need to go over this again?” the man, the leader, likely even the girl’s father said as he leveled his gun with the man's head. The men held their hands up defensively. “Help the man up,” he said waving the gun. “These people are not our property and if you damage them it is taken out on me. If it's going to be taken out on me, well, I'm going to kill you.”
“We aren't anyone's property,” I said as the two men pulled me down off the truck. “People aren't property. What the hell is wrong with you?”
The man approached me, strung between two other men. “Now look,” he said the smell of stale cigarettes on his breath. “This world, the aftermath of a shithole it has become, it's not like the world we left behind. Everything is property now, things and people, the strongest take those things and survive.”
I was about to retort when I heard the sound of something growling. At first, I thought perhaps dogs had survived the end of the world but then I saw what had made the noise and it was followed by others.
Kyle had already seen them, so had the others, there were half a dozen men and women coming towards us and on leashes they led mutated humans. They looked wild, each carrying a body part gnawing on it. Turning my head, I emptied the contents of my stomach.
“See,” the leader of the men who had taken us said to me. “The strongest can control those things, then comes us; we bring gifts them to stay alive, and well you,” he laughed. “You are the gifts.”
People had become gifts, property, pets; my head was spinning. I threw up again. When I looked back the men and women who walked the mutated humans on leashes like dogs had drawn closer. How had civilization fallen so far, so fast? The lucky ones, I thought to myself were dead already; killed in the explosions and saved from what the world had become.
“Reaver,” the leader said approaching the group, keeping his distance from the leashed humans. A woman covered in tattoos with a long-barreled gun hanging from her shoulder stepped forward. “As promised, we got you supplies and even brought two gifts.”
Kyle and I were shoved forward for inspection.
“Parker,” the woman named Reaver spoke. “The last time you brought we such gifts one of them spoiled my safe house by shooting himself in the head. Terrible mess to clean up. Have you ever had brain matter all over the place you call home?”
Parker shook his head. “No, I haven't.”
“Well if one of these two mess up my safe house,” Reaver pulled out a cigarette and lit it, as if needing to let the silence build between everyone. She took a long drag, blowing out the smoke before she continued. “You will know what it's like to clean that pretty little girls brain matter off yours.”
The little girl ran to her gather, hiding under her arm. I could see the fear in her eyes now, clearly, they were afraid of these people and this Reaver. I wanted to say something, in defense of us, but when I looked at Kyle, he simply shook his head.
These people were all monsters; when they should be been working together to fix the hell the world had become, they were too busy bartering humans and threats. One of the girls who travelled with Reaver, a hot-headed teenager with black hair and brown eyes, approached us and exchanged Kyle's rope for handcuffs before handcuffing me.
“Don't even look at me,” she said to me. “I'll cut you into pieces and feed you to those freaks.” She jabbed a thumb at the air in the direction of the mutated humans on leashes. “You want to join the dinner club, huh?” The girl pushed her hand against my face, trying to illicit a reaction, everyone watching, I just bit my tongue and states forward. The girl laughed at me before pushing me in the direction of Reaver.
I wondered what happened to the questioning me first that Parker had said he was going to do but I realized now it was just a scare tactic to keep Kyle in line after he tried to save me the last time. It was as if he was saying to Kyle without speaking a word - you screw up and she pays for it.
Survival Series (Book 1): Survival Page 9
