Revenants

by Lee Elisabeth

  "Only if you promise not to ask about my marriage. I'm done talking about that."

  "Deal."

  With that, we follow the others....me and this beautiful, wounded creature I may never fully know or understand.

  * * *

  Chloe

  Erek takes us around to the back of the store.

  "Where are you taking us now?" I ask.

  He stops in front of an old steel cellar door. "We're going into the cellar," he says.

  "Why?"

  "You want weapons or not, Princess?" he asks, irritated.

  "Geez, don't be so touchy."

  He rolls his eyes and bends down, lifting one door, then the other. The inside of the cellar is dark, and its wooden staircase reminds me of the stairs leading down to the basement in my grandmother's old farmhouse. A shiver runs through me. That basement used to give me the creeps when I was little...this cellar isn't much better.

  Erek straightens up and looks at me. "What is it now?"

  "I don't know," I say. "What if there's a Rev down there?"

  "A what?"

  "A Rev...you know, one of them," I say. "That's what we call them."

  He snorts. "Where'd you come up with that? Some ridiculous zombie site you found before the web crashed?"

  I cross my arms. "The thesaurus, actually."

  Now he laughs. "And what word were you searching for, pray tell?"

  "Something that returns. The word revenant popped up in the results. Seemed appropriate," I say, shrugging my shoulders.

  He grunts. "Well, there's no Rev in the cellar. I promise. So can we get a move on, or are we just gonna stand around until one does show up?"

  I peer into the opening of the cellar then look back at him, asking, "How can you be so certain?"

  "Because this is his store," Wayne says. "Ain't that right?" he asks Erek.

  Erek just smiles at Wayne. "Can't get nothing past you, can I?"

  "How did you know that?" I ask Wayne, surprised.

  Wayne shrugs. "Man knows his way around the inventory....and he knew it had a cellar out back. Wasn't his first time in it, even if it wasn't his."

  Erek nods. "Yeah, I know my way around it, alright. And down there," he says, pointing to the dark stairs, "is a gun-lovers paradise."

  "Yay, can't wait," I say dryly.

  He laughs. "Come on, Princess. Let's go show the boogeyman you ain't a scared little kid anymore."

  I roll my eyes and follow him down the stairs. Wayne, Daniel and Meredith fall in step behind me. We're like a line of ants faithfully following our Queen, possibly to our deaths. The cellar smells old and wet; a dank mixture of mold and earth. A few steps later, we're lined up in front of a walk-in gun safe. The metal doors are thrown open wide, exposing a variety of guns, knives, and other weapons designed to inflict serious damage.

  "Alright, you first," he says, pointing at Daniel.

  Daniel looks around, confused. "Me what?"

  Erek looks at him for a minute, then says, "You were an office lackey before, right? You ever go shooting?" he asks.

  "No. Never had a reason to."

  "Okay," Erek says, looking back at the locker, "that's cool. I'll start you out with this," he says, pulling out a flat-black gun.

  Daniel reaches for it. "Why this one?"

  "That's a Glock 19," Erek explains. "It ain't fancy, but it goes bang every time."

  Erek turns to Meredith. "I'm giving you a Glock 19 5th Generation," he says.

  Wayne is chomping at the bit to get in the locker. Erek laughs. "Go on, man. Take your pick."

  Wayne goes straight to the crossbow propped up in the left corner. He looks like a kid in a candy store as he slides the strap over his head. "Yeah, boy," he says, grinning from ear to ear. "I've missed the feel of one of these."

  "What is it?" I ask.

  "That right there is a Tech 29. You miss a Rev with one of those, you ain't getting it with any other bow," Erek says.

  "Well, what do I get?" I ask.

  "What are you carrying now?"

  "Oh, right," I say, reaching into my waistband for the gun I've been carrying since the beginning. I take it out and hand it to Erek. "My dad gave it to me when I left for college."

  He studies it for a minute, turning it over in his hands. "Yeah, this is nice for a .380. But you'll need a primary weapon. Something with a little more stopping power."

  He hands the gun back to me. "I'll give you a Glock 19, like Daniel," he says. "When you get more comfortable with it, you can try something else."

  I take the gun in my hand. It's strange. It doesn't feel like the one my dad gave me. It's heavier. Deadlier.

  "What's the matter, Princess?"

  I shrug. "It just....feels strange, you know. Standing here in a dark cellar, holding a gun...hoping it'll help me survive the end of the world." I close my eyes. "It's like something out of a horror movie I saw once."

  "Nah," he says, closing the locker doors with a loud clang. "Strange is waking up one morning, not remembering what you're fighting for, or why you started fighting in the first place." He turns around and looks back at me. "This ain't strange, Princess. This is....."

  "Survival," I finish for him.

  He smiles. "That's right. Don't forget it. I ain't trying to bury your spoiled butt out here in the woods."

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chloe

  I'm standing in front of a makeshift table behind the old trailer. It's really just an old wooden door balancing on two sawhorses, but it serves its purpose, which at the moment is to hold visual aids for our first crash-course in survival.

  Erek is explaining something, but I'm only half listening. I guess some small part of me believes as long as one of the guys are around, they should be able to handle the things I don't already know how to do. Or, maybe I just have trouble paying attention for long spells of time. Mom always said I had the attention span of a squirrel. For years, she had me on varying doses of ADD medication, but I couldn't tell if the pills actually helped me, or if they just made my mom feel better about my inability to focus.

  "Crayons can...hey, Princess...you listening?"

  I look at Erek. "Yes, I'm listening. You're talking about crayons."

  "Yeah, but what can they be used for?"

  I have no idea. A blush creeps across my cheeks. I look at the others. Their expressions betray what they're thinking...even they think I haven't been paying attention. No use in lying about it, then. I clear my throat, and say, "Could you go over it one more time?"

  Wayne spits a stream of tobacco juice onto the dirt.

  "When did you start dipping?" I ask, using the opportunity to divert the attention from me.

  Wayne points to Erek. "Got it from him. Saves my smokes."

  I put my hands on my hips and look at Erek. "You know, maybe not smoking and/or dipping could be factored in to your survival lessons."

  Daniel sighs. "Okay, so we've all established Chloe wasn't really listening."

  Erek tosses the box of crayons down on the table and walks to where I'm standing. "Listen to me, Princess. I don't care about his lungs or my gums. I care about not getting eaten by some three-day-old corpse, or dying because the person standing next to me cares more about looking cute than paying attention to something that actually matters. Got it?"

  If he wanted, he could burn a hole straight through me with those grey eyes of his. I'm embarrassed by the verbal lashing, so I say the only thing that comes to mind. "So, you think I'm cute?"

  His eyes widen slightly, before they narrow again. He spits a stream of tobacco juice onto the dirt at my feet. "Figure of speech, Princess. Now, pay attention. I don't like repeating myself."

  He stomps back to the table and picks up a box of crayons. "Crayons can be used as candles, if needed. Moving along...."

  Daniel inches closer to me. "Can you try to be a little less obvious?"

  "About what?"

  "Oh, I don't know....not caring?"

  I roll my
eyes. "Look, just because you and Meredith made up, and you're not being a total titty baby anymore, doesn't mean you've earned the right to tell me how to act."

  "Oh, that's..."

  Erek slams his fist down on the table, interrupting us. "When y'all are done chit-chatting, let me know. Or, maybe you'd like to cancel training altogether....see how long you last in Asheville without knowing any of this?"

  "Sorry. Please continue," I say, blushing anew.

  So he does. We spend the rest of the afternoon learning things like how to dig a proper hole for feces; how to make a light bulb using a gallon jug, bleach and water; and, how to build a fire, using whatever happens to be available.

  It's actually pretty interesting, once I start paying attention.

  Once the lesson concludes, everyone disperses and I start clearing the work table; not because I want to, but because Erek assigned chores to each of us. He says it's part of our training, but it feels more like we're working so he doesn't have to. I store the last of the crayons in their cardboard box. When I look up, Erek is staring at me with an odd expression.

  "What?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious.

  "That song you were just singing," he says, coming closer.

  "What? Oh," I say, blushing. "Sorry. I didn't even realize I was singing out loud."

  "Why were you singing it?"

  I shrug. "I don't know. It's just some old song my mom used to sing to me when I was little...before I went to sleep each night."

  "My sister used to sing that song," he says, getting a far away look in his eyes. "I never understood why it was such a big deal for a piece of fruit not to have a stone." He laughs, but it sounds sad instead of happy. "Kara had a beautiful voice."

  "Do you know if she's alive?" I ask, quietly.

  He shakes his head. "She was traveling abroad when it happened. She loved to travel." He shrugs. "I'm not even sure what country she was in when everything went bad."

  I place a hand on his forearm. "Maybe she's still out there, Erek....somewhere."

  He nods, but doesn't speak. Nor does he attempt to move his arm from my touch. We stand there, lost in a moment that's only ours. He looks so vulnerable right now; different than any other time I've interacted with him. It's endearing.

  I begin to think this old watch dog might be more bark than bite.

  Chapter Fifty

  Daniel

  "So, today was interesting."

  Meredith looks up from the bowl of stew resting on her lap. "Yeah, after I eat this I'll probably get to test out that latrine lesson."

  "Nice."

  She shrugs. "Why hide it?"

  Wayne and Erek are sitting on the porch, talking about the best kinds of traps for catching wild game. Chloe is inside, curled up in her sleeping bag, already dozing off for the night. It's just me and Meredith, sitting beside the fire, eating the last of the Brunswick Stew Erek made for us. I'm not entirely sure what's in it, and I didn't dare ask, but it tastes good and it's filling, so I eat it all.

  "I'm sorry again about the other day."

  "Stop apologizing. It's over and done with."

  "Well, I wanted to apologize...again...especially since I'm about to ask my daily question."

  She smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Couldn't let a girl enjoy her dinner in peace, could you?"

  "Don't worry...it's nothing too personal."

  She sets the bowl of soup on the ground. "Okay, what is it, then?"

  "What was your favorite dessert before the world ended?"

  She raises an eyebrow. "That's your question? My favorite dessert?"

  "That's it."

  She thinks for a minute, then says, "I guess it would have been cheesecake, with cherries on top. Man, that stuff was great. I'd probably sacrifice one of you for a slice right now."

  I laugh. "I know what you mean. I'd trade my firstborn for a bite of peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream."

  She blanches. "Said by someone who never had a child."

  "What?"

  She clears her throat. "If you ever had a child, you'd know you could never trade one of them...not for anything."

  "Well, yes...that's true, I guess."

  It occurs to me that Meredith may have had a child before the world ended. It wouldn't be that far-fetched, considering she was married for a time. But I will respect her wishes and steer clear of anything too personal, or even remotely related to her marriage. For now, I'll just have to rely on my imagination to fill in the blanks. I look at her and smile. After a moment she relaxes and picks up the bowl of stew.

  For today, it seems the wounded animal won't take my fingers.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chloe

  "How did you get into the whole military surplus thing?" I ask Erek.

  He just finished showing us how to field dress wounds; both superficial and serious. I wasn't very good at either, and it made my stomach feel queasy, but I survived the lesson. If only barely.

  He looks up from the cord he's holding. "That thing?" he repeats, smiling.

  "You know, the surplus business in the middle of nowhere. The arsenal in the cellar. That thing."

  He shrugs. "Seemed like a good fit."

  "How? You don't look like the type of person who would own a place that."

  "And what would a person need to look like to own a surplus store?" he asks.

  I shrug. "I don't know....like Wayne, I guess."

  Wayne stops cleaning his gun. "And what's that look like?" he asks, offended.

  I've stuck my foot in my mouth, and there's no way out of it, so I do the only thing I can do...I blush an angry red, and stammer like an idiot, until Meredith laughs and says, "I think the word she's too embarrassed to say is redneck, Wayne."

  I cringe. "I'm sorry, Wayne. I didn't think you were listening."

  He grunts. "You don't mind me bein’ a redneck when it's puttin’ food in your mouth."

  "And I appreciate you every time I eat, Wayne. Honestly. I didn't mean any offense. I promise."

  That seems to appease him. He goes back to cleaning his gun.

  "So, why did you decide to start a business like that?" I ask Erek.

  "I was in the Navy for a while. Got out four years ago, and needed something to do. Knew a lot about guns and ammo. The store made sense." He looks at the trailer. "There's a lot of conspiracy theorists, and wannabe militia members up here in the middle of nowhere who want the stuff I sell."

  "But do you sell enough to actually make a living?"

  He cuts his eyes at me. "You don't mind tearing a man down, do you, Princess?"

  "You have to forgive my sister," Daniel interjects. "She's probably the nosiest person I've ever met."

  I roll my eyes. "Whatever. I just like to know things."

  "When it's something you don't need to know, that's called being nosy, Princess."

  "In her defense, she can't help it. It's gotten her in trouble her whole life," Daniel adds.

  I stuff the pile of bandages back into the tin box, angry. "I'm not nosy! I'm inquisitive!" I insist, my face getting redder.

  Meredith, Daniel, and Erek all look at each other and say "nosy" at the same time and laugh. I know they're just teasing me, but for some reason it really hurts my feelings, so I do what any mature woman would do...I slam the box shut and stomp off to sulk in the trailer...alone.

  * * *

  Daniel

  Chloe is mad.

  We hurt her feelings when we called her nosy earlier. She'll get over it. If that's the worst thing that happens to her today, we're doing good.

  Erek sits down beside me. "So, what's your story?" he asks.

  I glance at him. "What do you mean?"

  He pinches out some tobacco and tucks it in his lip. "You know...what's your history? Your story? What was your life like before you found yourself in the minority?"

  "Minority?"

  "Us, man....the living....we're the minority. So, what's your story?" he asks again.

&nbs
p; "I don't know. I was an accountant. I liked to hike, but nothing too serious....day trips, mostly." I look at him. "That's about it, I guess. I was pretty boring."

  He smiles, squinting as he does, and says, "Well, I ain't gonna lie...that does sound about as lame as a swayback horse."

  I roll my eyes, then laugh. "Well, what did you do that was so exciting?"

  He leans back and wraps his arms around his knees. "Man, I've been in places that would take your breath away...some of the most beautiful spots in the world." His face grows somber. "Then I've been in other places make you wish you'd never been born."

  "The Navy?" I ask for clarification.

  He nods. "During my enlistment....and after."

  "What do you mean after?"

  "I did some contract work a year or two after I discharged. Mostly for U.S. Ambassadors in foreign countries. I was security...the muscle....made sure they lived long enough to do their jobs. Pretty good money, too," he adds at the end.

  "Is that how you were able to buy the store?"

  He nods. "I could've bought three stores, but I decided land was more important."

  "Land?"

  "Yeah. Mountain land ain't cheap, but it's worth it if you want space to yourself."

  "That makes sense. I guess you had connections from your time working as a contractor?"

  He nods again.

  "But you don't do that anymore?"

  He shakes his head. "Nah, man. Not after my last assignment. It had a bad ending."

  "In what way?"

  "In the no one lived happily ever after way," he answers, letting me know that's the end of that conversation.

  I nod and look at the trailer we've been staying in. It's rough...I can't lie about that...but at least it's shelter. We don't have to walk all day, then worry about where we might sleep at night. And we're gaining valuable skills...learning how to actually survive without modern-day amenities. And, most importantly, we're armed now.

  "I don't know if I ever said thank you," I say without looking at Erek.