The crown of her head pokes out of the darkness. She stops and looks in my direction. I don’t flinch or make any sudden moves. I don’t want to spook her and send her back inside.
A bit more of her body emerges. Her tangled hair drags through the dirt. She tilts her head to the left and stares in my direction. I remain still.
She crawls the rest of the way out and gets to her feet, then takes cover behind the stack of crates to her right and peers out.
“You ok?” I inquire. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
She hesitantly shakes her head from side to side.
“Good. Do you have a name or should I just call you Blondie?”
She stays guarded behind the crate with only a portion of her dirty face visible. “My name is Stacey.”
I unfold my arms and sit up. She flinches and drifts back behind the crates a bit further, but she doesn’t flee.
“Nice to meet you, Stacey. I’m Cal. Cal Jensen.” Her large eyes look about the barn, no doubt searching for the men who were after her. “You no longer have to worry about them.”
She brings her left hand up and rests it against the side of one of the crates. She looks about a moment more as if she doesn’t believe me. “Did you kill them?”
“I did. I moved their bodies. They weren’t a sight for a young girl to see.”
“I’ve seen worse,” she counters.
“I imagine you have, unfortunately.” I grip the top of my Stetson and slip it back on the top of my head. I stay seated and extend my arm toward her.
Stacey doesn’t draw back this time, but she doesn’t come to me either. Her large, sad eyes just stare at me.
“Are you a good man, Cal Jensen?” she finally inquires.
I lower my arm to my side. “I’m about as good a man as one can be in such a torn world,” I respond. “I don’t much like hurting folks that don’t deserve it, if that’s what you mean.”
Inch by inch, Stacey moves out from behind the crates and cautiously comes toward me. The light from a hole in the roof shines down on her sad, flushed face. Tears streak her dirty cheeks.
The tops of her bare feet are bruised and covered in small cuts that continue up her legs. Her arms are in much the same shape. She stops just shy of the blood pooled in the dirt. She tilts her head down and takes in the dark crimson color, before she looks back up at me.
“Like I said, you’re safe now. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her bottom lip quivers. She’s trying so hard to be brave, but the pain and sadness consuming her spill out of her eyes. Her body shudders as she begins to sob uncontrollably.
I stand and move to her. She opens her arms wide and embraces me in a tight hug. I pull her in and hold her close as the sobs escape her mouth.
Although I can’t remember my daughter, this feeling of having Stacey clutched against me is familiar. I haven’t felt it since receiving the imprint and becoming an Agent.
Every day, we all face many horrors, and seldom are we afforded the chance to have a moment such as this. For years, I have pondered what my purpose is and what will become of a man who has known nothing but killing. Even after the bombs dropped, and a large portion of the population was snuffed out in the blink of an eye, I’ve had to take lives to survive.
Holding her shows me that I can have purpose once more, and perhaps, redeem my soul in this Fallen World.
* * *
3
Stacey finally pushes away from me and swipes her forearm across her eyes. She sniffles and tries to compose herself. She takes in a deep breath and exhales it through her pink lips.
“Thank you for saving me,” she softly says with a slight tilt of her head. “I’ve been on the run for the past day. I didn’t think I’d make it this far, before they caught up with me.”
I offer a half-smile, which is something I haven’t done in quite some time. There isn’t much to smile about nowadays.
I grab the bill of the Stetson and nod. “No thanks needed. Nothing worse, right now, than cannibals. Looks like you did fairly well, considering you didn’t have any shoes on. Trudging through the woods had to be hell on the soles of your feet.”
She peers down at her naked feet and wiggles her dirt-covered toes. “I had shoes, but I lost them in the woods, before I had a chance to put them on. My parents shoved them in my arms and told me to run and not look back. To not stop, until I was safe.” She glances toward the opening of the barn. “All I remember was a bunch of commotion when I left. Screaming and yelling. Then some gunshots.”
Stacey folds her arms across her chest and stares at the open barn doors. Tears start to flow once more. She sniffles, then lowers her head as she swipes them away.
She’s tough. That’s for sure. Braver than most I have seen out here. It took courage to do what she did, to leave her family behind and run away from the horrors.
I glance in the same direction she is. “Can you tell me exactly what happened?”
“A handful of those men showed up in our little town of Lansdale three or four days ago. They seemed nice enough, and they weren’t causing any problems. They said they were hungry and asked if we could spare some food and a few rooms for the night. We don’t have much, but most everyone in the community was willing to share what they had with them.”
I nod.
“I’m not sure when, exactly, the rest of them arrived. I think it was sometime in the middle of the night, and that’s when things in town went bad.” She laces her arms over her chest in a guarded fashion. She looks to her right, then her left as if searching for something. I’m not sure what it could be.
Stacey cranes her neck and looks past me. She steps around the pooled blood and sits down on the crate. She smooths out her dress, and she tucks her hair behind her ears.
“Sorry. My feet hurt.”
I lower myself down to her eye level. “No need to be sorry. Please, continue.”
“I was in my bed when the loud screams woke me up. Mom and Dad came rushing into my bedroom in a panic. Said something about strangers rounding up people. Mom was crying, sobbing, while Dad was a whirlwind of panic. He said we needed to sneak out of town, but the strange men came barging in and took us away. They knocked Dad around pretty good. Mom held me close and didn’t try anything. We were taken to the large building where most of the town’s people gather for meetings.”
“Like a town hall?” I inquire.
She nods but shrugs at the same time. “I guess. I think that may be what Daddy called it. It’s in the center of town.” She wipes her nose with the heel of her palm. “Most everyone was dragged there and thrown inside. They never really said what they wanted or what they planned to do. Not at first. Once people started to disappear, the men started making comments about food that didn’t sound right. They were talking about stew meat and joking about how good it would taste. Weird part was, we didn’t have any meat. It freaked Mom and Dad out, and they said they wanted to get me out of there as soon as possible. They told me, ‘When we say run, you start running, and you don’t look back.’”
Just listening to her tale of terror sends a shiver of pure rage up my spine. The blunt instrument of force that I have grown to be wants nothing more than to bury those dirtbags in the ground. This injustice isn’t going by without the wicked being punished for what they have done. That’s for damn sure.
“Could you take me to your town?”
Her large, glassy eyes blink as she stares at me. Her lips quiver, and she takes in a gulp of air. “I didn’t say the worst part.”
I scoot a bit closer and gently place my hand on hers. “Go on.”
“There was some creature inside the town, as well. Like, something from a nightmare, but real. It looked like a large man and a lizard at the same time. I know it had a lizard’s head.”
Damn Geno Freaks. Doesn’t matter, though. I’ve had experience dealing with the abominations. It’s a gamble going back there, but I can’t idly stand by and not help this kid. Wouldn’t
sit right with me.
“You’re safe now, and I’m going to take care of those vile men and that creature,” I say.
Stacey looks unsure, as if she doesn’t believe what I’m saying. “What can you do against all of them? Against that creature?”
“I can kill them. Kill them all.”
* * *
4
It takes her a moment, but she finally nods and agrees to take me back to Lansdale.
We both stand. Her meager legs shake slightly as she draws a deep breath.
“We can wait awhile, so you can rest some,” I offer.
She shakes her head. “I really want to be with my mom and dad.” Stacey looks up at me, hope surging in her sad, tired face, and she asks me the most important question. “You’re sure you can save my town? Save my parents?”
I don’t look away. I remain steadfast in my resolve. I will handle those vile men. “You get us there, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
A hopeful smile tries to break through the pain and heartache Stacey is battling. She heads slowly for the door now that the adrenaline high she was on has all but fizzled out. I walk up behind her and place my hand firmly on her shoulder. She pauses and turns back toward me.
“Here.” I bend down so she can climb onto my back. “We’ll make better time if I carry you. And it’ll give your body a chance to recover some.”
Stacey hesitates. She bites her lip and glances about once more.
Finally, she climbs onto my back and wraps her long, slender arms around my neck. I stand up and turn toward the opening of the barn. She isn’t too heavy, and my carrying her won’t keep us from making good time.
We head out of the barn, in the direction of the open field. I take it easy, since I have her on my back, and I carefully make my way over the barbwire fence. As we trudge through the overgrown grass, she pulls her legs up higher. She stays quiet and leans her head gently against my back.
We enter the wooded area and navigate through the scantily covered trees and bushes. She directs me where to go, mostly by pointing, saying as few words as possible. She’s beyond tired, that much is certain; I can tell from the way her body rests heavily against me. Her voice is nothing more than a weak whisper in my ear.
I pause and look up at the cloudy sky through a small opening in the canopy above us. The sun isn’t as bright as it was; the day is drawing to a close. Time is irrelevant. There are no schedules to keep, no reason for the incessant ticking of the clock, warning us that time is but a fleeting moment.
Stacey doesn’t ask why we stopped, which leads me to believe she is sleeping, or close to it. It will be challenging to find Lansdale on my own, but she needs the rest. Being lugged about on my back isn’t exactly a replacement for a night’s sleep on a nice, soft bed, but it’s better than nothing.
I pivot from left to right, searching for a resting place that will conceal us from bandits or other degenerates looking for an easy mark.
Stacey stirs. She grumbles and fidgets slightly as she shifts her weight. “Why have you stopped?” she softly mutters in my ear. “Is something wrong?”
I turn my head to the side. “I’m looking for a place to hole up for a while. It will be night soon, and you need some proper rest.”
She starts to speak, but her words come out as nothing more than a muffled mess I can’t make out. Stacey remains silent as I search the immediate area for cover. I wander about until I happen upon a sort of den that should work nicely.
It is a narrow opening in the side of a rocky hill that has a large overhang concealing its entrance. I inch closer for a better look to ensure no animals are currently taking refuge inside. I don’t spot any. It isn’t overly deep, but it doesn’t have to be.
I squat and carefully remove Stacey from my back. I hold her in my arms as I glance upon her peaceful, dingy face. Her eyes crack open for a second before she drifts off again. I place her in the opening, gingerly leaning her against the rock wall. She slides down the wall and curls up in a ball, placing her hands one on top of the other to use as a pillow.
A slight shiver crosses her body, and she draws her legs in closer to her chest. I need to get a fire going. I’d rather not start one, as it could give away our position, but I can’t let her be out here with no heat. She isn’t dressed for it. Even though the days are sweltering, the nights can be cold if you’re not prepared. At least to some.
I remove my coat and drape it over her. She grabs the collar and pulls it further up on her neck. Her body vanishes under the leathery fabric, leaving only the top of her head visible. I turn and head out for some wood, but I stay close by to keep an eye on her.
The branches and twigs that are scattered on the ground won’t go far. Still, they’ll do. We don’t need a ton, just enough to warm her and make her comfortable.
It only takes a few moments before the orange and yellow glow starts to spread, and the fire engulfs the kindling. I move away and lean against the wall to the right of Stacey.
Smoke drifts into the sky as night fully envelops the wooded area. I fold my arms across my chest and stare out beyond the trees. The branches look like paltry limbs holding still in the fading light, almost as if they are planning to attack when I least expect it.
As the night wears on, the fire dwindles. The heat from the flames has warmed the enclosed area nicely. The cold fights to sneak back in, but the warmth of the shelter keeps it at bay. Stacey is curled up in a ball and has her back pressed against my legs. She discarded my coat a while ago.
I remain steadfast in my sentry mode. The tip of my knife is stuck in the ground to my left, and I thoughtfully look toward any noise that arises.
Stacey finally starts to stir. Her hands come up to her face. Fingers balled into tiny fists, she rubs her eyes, then yawns. She stretches her legs. I lean forward and hold my arm out to make sure her legs stay out of the smoldering fire. Her eyes crack open. She looks up at me, then suddenly sits up. She still looks sleepy, and confusion swirls in her heavy eyes.
“It’s okay, Stacey. You fell asleep, and we stopped so you could rest,” I calmly say.
She sits and brings her knees up to her chest, then wraps her arms around her legs and pulls them in closer.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
Stacey shakes her head no.
“When is the last time you ate something?”
She shrugs. “Can’t remember. I know I’ve eaten, but I can’t seem to recall what it was.”
I grab my coat and dig around in an inside pocket. I pull out a brown bag that is partially full of pecans. “Here are some nuts I scavenged, if you would like to eat some. They’re pecans.”
I offer the bag to her, but she barely glances at them. “No, thank you. I’m not really hungry.”
I leave the bag in front of her. “Eating something would probably help get your strength back up.”
Again, she denies the offer with a subtle shake of her head. “I’m too worried about my parents.”
I leave well enough alone and place the bag on the ground near her in case she changes her mind.
Stacey cocks her head slightly to the left. “Have you ever lost anybody you loved, Cal? I’m scared I’m never going to see my parents again.”
I stare at her sad face. I doubt she would understand my circumstances. I have limited memories of my previous life. What information I do have about my daughter, and the world before, was given to me in a briefing, after I received the imprint.
“I have.”
“What happened?” Stacey quickly asks.
Once more, I contemplate my words carefully. I haven’t had a conversation like this in God knows how long, and never with a kid.
I keep it vague, hoping she won’t probe any further. “My daughter passed away many years ago. Back when the fall happened.”
“Do you miss her?”
“I do.”
It’s a lie, but it’s not. When my mind was wiped, any memories I had that would make me miss her had been
erased. The cold emptiness of knowing about her is all I have inside of me. It was a byproduct of becoming an Agent.
“I hope my parents are missing me,” Stacey sadly says. “I miss them.” Stacey’s bottom lip quivers at the thought. The slight shimmer from the dying fire reflects in her glassy eyes. She reaches up and rubs her eyes, clearing the wetness building in them.
“You will be with your family soon; I’ll do everything in my power to see that it happens.” Offering up such powerful words is a big gamble on my part. I’m unsure of the enemy’s strength, and knowing that a Geno Freak is lurking within the town definitely complicates things. It’s not the worst mission I’ve ever taken on, but it’s not the easiest either.
Stacey’s gaze lingers on the dwindling flames as she rocks back and forth. I grab a stick and poke the fire, trying to summon some life from the kindling. It does little good.
“I think this fire has about had it,” I say. “I’ll grab some more wood and tinder, so we can get it going again.”
I start to get up when Stacey speaks. “I’m ready to go.”
I stop.
I look out into the darkness, searching for any hidden dangers that could be lying in wait.
“Are you sure? We can wait a bit longer, until it gets closer to morning, so we’re not traveling in the dark.”
She cuts her gaze to me. “I’m sure. I can remember my way back.”
“Ok.” I snuff out the remains of the fire and scoop dirt into the pit, ensuring that everything has been extinguished. The scent of burned wood fills my nose. Tiny trails of smoke are barely visible as they rise from the center of the pit.
Stacey stands up and walks outside. She clutches her arms tightly against her chest as the slight breeze brushes over her exposed flesh. She doesn’t say she’s cold, even though it’s apparent from the trembling of her body.
I grab my coat and knife, then I stand next to Stacey and slip my blade into its sheath. I drape my coat over her shoulders. She takes it without question and wraps it around her body. I turn to the left and start to squat so she can climb on my back.
From the Ashes Page 27
