The Grey Ones

by Candra Baguley

Chapter 11

  Morning couldn’t come any faster for me. I spent the rest of the night planning what I would tell Travis. By the time he woke up at dawn, I had our whole conversation planned.

  Sitting across from me, he listens intently as I tell him everything I learned while he was sleeping. From who they are, down to where they are. The only detail I leave out is the fact that I already agreed to join them.

  “So what do you want to do?” I ask quietly, careful not to wake Ty who is still sleeping next to us. He must have gotten cold in the night because he’s using Travis’s camouflage army coat for a blanket. And beneath his head, he has utilized his pants as a pillow.

  “Here’s the plan.” Travis says in a leader tone. “We’re going to get ready, pack up, then head South West to Portland. No long breaks. We want to make it there by tonight.”

  “Do you think we can make it there that soon on foot? Should we hotwire a car or something?” Billy chimes in. Without looking at us he continues to shove the radio in his backpack. With how big the power supply is, I’m not surprised there’s no room for much else.

  “The sound of an engine will only bring attention to ourselves. We have a better chance of making it there alive on foot.” I reply quickly.

  “Isabelle is right. Now let’s pack up and get out of here. We leave in five.”

  With the sun beginning to rise, the morning sky has been painted pink-orange. Gazing up at the grey clouds moving above, I opt for a hoodie. My hands dig into my backpack, under the travel size first aid kit, and pull out my old college sweatshirt. The thick cotton warms my skin when I tug it over my head and down my waist. Feeling satisfied with my decision, I glance at Ty to make sure he’s warm.

  Sitting with his camouflage jacket over his shoulder, his eyelids blink heavily. He looks exhausted as he leans himself against Cano. If Travis hadn’t woken him, he probably would’ve slept another hour or two.

  I reach into my backpack and pull out the first aid kit. Setting it down in front of me, I begin to unwrap the bandages from both wrists. The wounds from the Grey One’s claws are beginning to scab over. Still, the antiseptic wipe stings when I wipe it over the finger sized holes.

  Once I’ve finished cleaning the gashes, I glance over the kit. Seeing there’s only one bandage, I decide to let the wounds breathe. We need to save the medical supplies for times in need.

  I throw the backpack over my shoulders as Travis slips his loaded handgun into the holster attached to his hip. He glances over at me, then gives a quick nod at Ty. “He ready?”

  “Yes,” Ty says, mid-yawn, “I’m ready to go.”

  The cold air blows my long hair back when I step out of the barn. As I walk through the grassy field I twist back in time to watch the sun rise above the tall mountain. We have at least thirteen hours to make it into Portland. Quietly, we step through the trees while listening for any threats that could be lurking.

  It takes us a few hours but we finally make it to the interstate right off the river. The sun is high above our heads deducting the risk of running into of the murderous creatures. Now we only have to worry about keeping an eye out for any looters.

  As we stroll up to a green street sign, Ty grunts loudly. “Fifty-eight miles?” He stares at the numbers on the sign like it’s a bad grade. By car, we could be there within forty minutes. But walking... this is going to take a lot longer than we had anticipated.

  “Looks like we’re not going to make it into Portland by tonight.” Billy says under his breath.

  Travis turns around on his heel and stares at the three of us. Cano is by his side, his eyes glued on Billy. He sounds irritated when he replies, “You’re right.” His head shakes as he continues, “New plan. We’re going to walk as far as we can until the sun is about to go down. We will then find shelter for the night. At sunrise, we continue to Portland.”

  “What about the looters?” Billy asks, his voice still quiet.

  “We pay attention to our surroundings while using the tree coverage to conceal ourselves. Since they attacked you in the city, we’ll need to be on high alert when we arrive in Portland.” Travis takes a gulp out of water before placing the canteen back in the side of his backpack.

  “And if they do, bother us, then what?”

  Before Travis could say anything, I cut in, “Then we will take care of it.”

  The nervous boy bites his lip and nods.

  Sweat beads dripping from my forehead, I pull the warm hoodie up and over my hair. With the sun beating down on me, the cool breeze feels good against my skin. I turn my head from side to side, scanning for a more shaded area to walk. On the other side of the road there are trees bunched together alongside the river.

  “Come on, there’s more shade on this side of the road.” Scurrying across the black asphalt, I make my way down the dirt hill towards the river.

  We use the shade from trees and continue to walk until it’s time for a lunch break. Ducking under a bridge, we begin to divide the food.

  Billy takes a can. Reading the label, he makes a sickened look. “I’ll pass. Not a big fan of tuna.” Giving it back, he returns to fumbling with his radio.

  I roll my eyes and stare at the water. Being on the river reminds me of last summer. Ty graduated kindergarten, and we wanted to take him to do something fun. He chose a day at the river, as a family. We spent the next afternoon paddle boarding and swimming. By the time we made it home, Ty was asleep for the night. With Travis being gone so often that day became a cherished memory for me. And a reason to fight back.

  My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of music in the distance. A drum solo from an eighties rock-and-roll song takes me straight back to childhood; Growing up listening to Queen and Motley Crue with my dad. We all freeze when the music is joined by shouts and excited screams. The exhaust pipe roars loudly as the tires rumble on the bridge. Suddenly, the brakes coming to a screeching stop before the end of the bridge.

  Travis signals for us to move back to hide in the cluster of pine trees near the road. Careful not to make too much noise, we climb up the small hill under the bridge. Their deep voices erupt in laughter as we disappear into the dense trees on the other side of the road.

  Travis drops his backpack and weapons bag in the dirt. He digs through the weapons, returning with a pair of binoculars. “Can you climb it?” He tilts his head at the green tree beside us.

  The massive tree stands at least thirty feet tall. I glance back at the bridge and realize I’ll have to climb around fifteen feet to see anything. And without any other coverage the high up, I’ll need to find a way to stay hidden. Turning to Travis, I nod and respond quietly, “Give me your coat.”

  The coat feels sweaty and hot from being worn all day, but the camouflage will help me blend in with the trees. I wrap the binoculars around my neck and prepare to climb. Bark digs into the palms of my hands when I use the thick branch above my head to pull myself up. A gust of wind blows through the gorge filling my nostrils with the sweet smell of pine. I push aside the memories of picking out Christmas trees with Ty every year and focus on the task at hand.

  When I make it to a branch high enough up to see the top of the bridge I pull the binoculars to my eyes. As I look through the narrow circles I find the two boys that were shouting before. The one with long hair jumps onto the ledge and begins pretending like he’s going to fall off while the other watches, laughing. Both of them are grasping onto bats with nails sticking out all over. I stare closely at their acne covered faces and realize that they can’t be older than seventeen.

  “What do you see?” Travis says just loud enough for me to hear.

  My jaw drops open to respond, but a high pitched cackle forces my attention back to the Ford pickup. A woman around my age hops out of the driver side door with a bottle of liquor. Her choppy, black pixie hair looks like someone cut it with a knife. She take a gulp of the clear liquid inside of the glass bottle before throwing it to one of the boys in front of her. Not expecting
it, the bottle hits him in the chest before dropping to the ground and shattering against the asphalt. The boy on the ledge sounds like a hyena as he breaks out in laughter.

  “Idiot!” She shouts, then turns back to the truck. “Kawika, grab the other bottle!”

  “Isabelle.” Travis calls out again.

  Remaining focused on the strangers, I reply, “There are two males, one female, and another person I can’t see.” The car door slams shut when a bald man hops out of the passenger’s side carrying a bottle and a shotgun. “There’s another man. And, they have weapons.”

  After walking around the front of the truck the man, who looks to be twice our age, tosses a bottle full of clear liquid to the long haired boy. This one catches it and jumps off the ledge. He grins tauntingly at the other boy. He takes a few gulps then turns his attention to the woman. Her voice is too quiet to hear from this distance.

  When she’s done talking, the man she called Kawika turns to his side - revealing a tribal tattoo on half his face. He walks over to the girl, lifts her up, and kisses her sloppily. When they finally pull their tongues out of each other’s mouths, she points a finger back at the truck. Nodding in agreement, the older man throws the shotgun over his shoulder and walks away. I watch him move slowly towards the bed of the truck. When his shaved head disappears behind the back, the young girl begins to squeal loudly. She jumps up and down; clapping with so much excitement it reminds me of a little kid receiving their first bike. The two teenage boys stand next to her and continue to take turns drinking the clear liquor.

  When Kawika returns, he’s not alone. A battered man walks with his arm wrapped over his shoulder, using him for support. His face looks bloody and bruised as he limps towards the girl half his age. His camouflage pants are covered in a brown and red mixture, what I presume to be mud and blood.

  “Do they look like they can be trusted?” Travis asks from below.

  I remain silent. Something has changed in their body language. They crowd around, as the hurt man struggles to stand in front of her without help. His body sways from side to side as his swollen green eyes break out in tears. He sobs so loudly that I can hear him from here.

  The young woman ignores his cries as she gestures for the older man’s shotgun. When her hand extends out to grab it, the injured man loses his balance. His fingers clutch onto her arm for help, but she quickly yanks it away, sending him down onto his knees. In the blink of an eye, the bald man loses his temper and nails him in the back of the head with the shotgun. My palm presses against my mouth, as the injured man falls face first on the ground at her feet. He lifts his bloody head from the pavement and extends an arm out, pleading for help. Without a moment of hesitation, she pulls her steel toe boot up and slams it down on the back of his skull. His body goes limp as dark red liquid seeps out and pools around his head.

  My body cringes, and my throat gags at the image burnt in my brain. I’ve seen corpses, but I’ve never seen anyone be murdered by another human being before. We’re supposed to be on the same side. I continue to watch in horror as the two younger men throw his dead body over the side of the bridge. He crashes below. Narrowly missing a group of boulders, his broken body becomes submerged.

  “Isabelle, tell us what you see.” Travis whispers. His voice sounds frustrated.

  I wait to climb down until after the group has piled back in the truck. Black smoke fills the air while the truck speeds past the trees that we’re hiding in. When the engine roars off in the distance, I drop down from the last branch.

  With my eyes focused on Travis’s, I whisper, “We need to talk. Alone.”

  “Why? What did you see?” Billy questions from behind him.

  “Hey Billy. Can you help Ty feed the dog?” Travis says, tossing an unopened can of tuna his way.

  “Yeah!” Ty shouts next to Cano.

  “Fine.” Billy replies, pulling the tab open on top.

  “What happened? What did you see?” Travis’s voice pulls my attention back to where he stands in front of me.

  With my eyes focused on Ty, I say quietly, “Those people were crazy.” I stop talking when I feel the knot in my throat that’s becoming painful from holding back. Blurry eyed, I blink back a few tears before asking, “How are we supposed to beat the Grey Ones if we’re busy fighting each other?”

  The warmth of Travis’s chest soothes me when he pulls me in close. Without replying he listens to me continue, “There were three guys and one girl in the group. I saw that they had weapons, including a gun and nailed baseball bats. There was another guy; he was hurt. They beat him and then threw him over the bridge.”

  “Those must have been some of the looters Billy warned us about.” Travis says quietly. “We need to get moving again. To remain hidden, we’ll need to walk through the heavily treed areas. The river it will lead us to Portland.”

  “Why are we staying in the trees?” Ty’s voice chimes in curiously.

  Travis and I exchange nervous glances. With a soft tone, I reply, “We just need to be more careful now that we’re getting closer to Portland.” When I turn to walk away I hear his little voice again.

  “How come?”

  My shoulders slump. I turn around and kneel down in front of him. Being face to face with him the small random specks of green in his blue eyes are more noticeable. I respond calmly, “There are bad people out there. And the closer we get to bigger cities, the more of them we’re going to see. Them, and the Grey Ones. So we want to make sure that we’re careful not to be found.”

  “Okay. You could’ve just said that.” He says with a small smile before continuing, “Is it time to go yet?”

  “Yeah, son,” Travis answers, “Let’s get moving.”

  We use the river for guidance while we move quickly through the heavily wooded area. Birds chirp softly in the branches high above our heads. My stomach begins to growl as I think about the taste of grilled fresh meat. If we weren’t in such a hurry, I would shoot those birds for dinner.

  When I peek over my shoulder, Billy has fallen behind a few yards. He walks slowly while carrying his backpack in his arms. With an ear to his unzipped backpack he fumbles with the knobs on the radio. When he speaks quietly into the microphone it dawns on me that we accomplished what wanted - Find other survivors who want to band together. But Billy was never looking for that. He was, and still is, looking for his family. When he sees me staring at him he picks up the pace.

  He speaks a little louder as he says, “Hello. My name is Billy. I am heading towards Portland to find other survivors. Mom, dad, if you’re listening please meet me there. I will check this radio channel every day in the morning, afternoon, and evening to listen for you guys. Please find me.”

  When Travis overhears Billy, he stops walking and looks back at him. He opens his mouth opens to say something, but I shake my head quickly. His dark eyebrows knit closely together, giving me a curious look. When he catches onto me trying to buy him a little extra time to reach out for his family, he shakes his head and says, “Billy, turn off the radio. We need to listen for any and all threats.”

  The boy immediately stops walking and stares at Travis. His face flushes. Behind his thick frames I can see the anger building up inside of him. His normally quiet voice raises, “You aren’t going to tell me when I can or cannot reach out to my family.”

  Travis clenches his fist angrily. With his eyes narrowed in on him, he barks, “I will when it comes to the survival of my family.”

  “What about the survival of my family?” Billy’s voice raises a few notches higher. The branches overhead shake as the chirping birds fly away.

  Travis storms towards him. They stand face to face, the tips of their noses practically touching. When he speaks, it’s through clenched teeth, “You can turn that damn thing off and shut up. Or, you can take your precious radio and find your family by yourself.”

  The lanky boy stares at him in silence for a few seconds. His chest heaves up and down. Looking around us
, he shakes his head and drops his backpack in the dirt. “Fine.” He mutters, squatting down. Travis watches him shut down the power supply and radio. Once he stands back up, he nods at him then turns back to Ty and Cano.

  “Let’s move out.” He demands, grabbing hold of Ty’s hand.

  Cano hesitates to follow when he notices I’m still staring at Billy. He glares off in silence; his long face is still bright red from anger. It takes him a few seconds to shake it off and move.

  Cano trails right behind me when I jog forward. Catching up with Travis, I whisper, “You didn’t have to be that mean about it.”

  “He’s going to get us all killed if he keeps doing stupid things like that. He should know better.” He argues.

  “You’re right. But since he’s sticking with us maybe we should think about teaching him a few things.”

  “We’ll see how long that lasts.” Travis grumbles.

  I chew on the inside of my cheek instead of replying. I have no reason to defend Billy, or the stupid things he does. Still, there’s this part of me that feels sympathy for him. This world is crazy enough, and to be in it alone must be a scary thing.

  “Hey guys,” Billy calls out behind us, “Is that what I think it is?”