"What for?"
"Everything. Taking us in. Teaching us." I look at him. "You're probably the reason we're still breathing. So, thank you."
He spits a stream of tobacco into an old cup. "Don't mention it, man. I was getting tired of being alone, anyway. So maybe y'all are helping me, too." After a minute he asks, "You think Chloe's still mad?"
I check my watch. It's only been two hours. "Oh yeah....we've got at least another three hours of the silent treatment."
He smiles. "If I had known that's all it'd take to buy some silence, I would've been calling her nosy at least once a day since the beginning."
We both laugh. Somewhere, from inside the trailer we hear Chloe yell, "I heard that!", and we laugh even harder. It feels good. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to just sit around, joking about the trivial things in life. Things like a mad little sister and age-old silent treatments.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chloe
I don't care how much they laugh. I'm not nosy.
Why is it a bad thing to want to know more about the people you're spending time with? Why is it a bad thing to ask questions? I bet if I was a man asking the same things, I wouldn't be called nosy...I'd probably be lauded for my civility and thoroughness.
You'd think the Apocalypse would have destroyed gender-biases, too, but I guess that was too much to hope for.
Meredith sits down on the sleeping bag beside me. "You still feeling salty?"
I roll my eyes.
"They were just kidding you."
I raise an eyebrow.
"Okay, okay....I was just kidding, too."
"I'm not nosy," I say.
"No, absolutely not," she states solemnly.
I roll my eyes again. "Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"
"Oh, come on...you can't sulk about this all day. You're wasting precious time. We could all be dead tomorrow."
"Well, when you put it like that."
"I mean it, though. Life was always too short...even before...but now it's really too short. And we didn't mean any harm," she says, nudging my shoulder with hers. "You know we all love you."
I sigh. "You're right. I'm just...I haven't been sleeping great since Lane and Kelli...died...were killed." I rub my face. "I don't even know how to describe what I'm feeling right now."
"I know. It's been hard for me, too," she says, looking at the floor.
I shake my head. "Yeah, but you can't tell. You always seem so calm and in control. I wish I could be more like that."
"But I'm not, Chloe. I'm terrified, just like everyone else. Maybe more so," she adds softly.
"I don't believe it."
"It's true."
"Then what's your secret?"
She shrugs. "I guess I still believe life will reset itself...eventually. I pray I'm alive to see it happens."
"Prayer," I repeat. "Yeah, I'm done with that. Daniel was right. No God would allow something like this to happen."
The color drains from Meredith's face and tears glisten in her eyes. "I agree. God wouldn't do something like this. But, God gave man free will a long time ago...and it's been getting us in trouble ever since."
"What's that supposed to mean? We did this?" I shake my head, suddenly angry. "No. I didn't do anything. Kelli and Lane didn't do a thing. None of us asked for this, but we're all dying anyway."
"Chloe, I..."
"No! I'm tired of praying for some miracle that's never coming! I'm tired of everything!"
"You need to hit something."
We both look up to find Erek standing in the doorway.
"Don't tempt her," Meredith warns.
He snorts. "Not me, Sweetheart....although she'd probably like to."
I cross my arms, mad all over again. "Why does she get a nice nickname and I get Princess?" I ask, making a face when I say the word princess.
"Because of that right there. Now, come on...I'm taking you to get some of that aggression out," he says, motioning for me to follow him outside.
I stand up with a huff, and follow him out of the trailer and into the surrounding forest. This is stupid. I don't want to go anywhere with him, or anyone else. I just want to stay in my bed (if you can even call it that, since it's just a sleeping bag) and sulk for the rest of the day. Maybe for the rest of my life.
We walk for what seems like forever, when Erek finally stops and points at an old wooden post sticking out of the ground.
"Well, what about it?" I ask.
He hands me a bat. "Here. Take it."
"What do I need this for? And should we even be out here? It's not safe," I say, taking the bat from him.
"If you don't get your emotions under control you're not going to last much longer, anyway, so I wouldn't worry about it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Look, I didn't want to tell you this, but your attitude sucks," he says, shoving me closer to the post. "So you're gonna hit this post with that bat until you start feeling better, or until you break your wrist. Whichever comes first."
I stand there, feeling self-conscious and silly. "I can't do this with you looking at me."
A second later, he's in my face; close enough that I can smell the soap he used to cleanse his body this morning. His grey eyes narrow into slits. "Listen, Princess, you're gonna hit that post, and you're gonna hit it now, or I'm gonna tie you to it until you stop acting like a spoiled brat! Maybe if I'm lucky, a Rev will come along and fix that crappy attitude for you!"
I feel ashamed, but just as quickly an incredible anger washes over me. How dare he? I shove Erek in the chest as hard as I can. "Don't you ever call me a spoiled brat again! You don't know me! You don't know what I've been through or what I've seen these past few months! You don't know anything!" I yell.
I turn and unleash my wrath on the wooden post. I bash the post with the metal bat. "I'm tired of not being in control of my own life!" I yell, then bash the post again. "And I'm tired of watching people I care about die right in front of me!" I hit it a third time. "And I'm sick and tired of not knowing what happened to the people I love, or if they're alive or dead!"
I hit the post a final time, then collapse to the ground, sobbing. A moment later, Erek wraps his arms around me. He doesn't say anything, he just holds me and lets me cry the last of my anger out. Once I run out of tears, I slip into a subdued silence, except for the occasional sniffle.
"You needed to get that off your chest, Chloe," Erek says softly. "Pent up emotions will only get you killed out here."
I rub my nose on the sleeve of my shirt. "How do you know?"
He sighs. "I've learned most things the hard way. We'll leave it at that."
I nod my head. "Thank you. I do feel better." I sit up. "I guess we should be getting back to the group now. I don't like being away from everyone."
He stands, then helps me to my feet. "Come on, Princess. Your castle awaits," he says, motioning toward the camp.
"When are you going to stop calling me that?"
He winks. "The day something makes me breathe my last breath."
I roll my eyes, but as he starts walking, I find myself thinking just how much I hate imagining a world without Erek and his sarcastic sense of humor in it.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chloe
"Are you ever going to show us where you live?"
Erek and I are sitting outside the trailer, resting after a grueling training session on creating perimeter alarms from recycled items like cans, mirrors, and wind chimes.
He pretends to think about my question, then says, "No," and puts another braid into the paracord bracelet he's working on.
"Why not? We're obviously not going to steal your home out from under you. Besides," I say, scratching my ankle, "I think this place has fleas."
He laughs. "Yeah, it does."
"Then let us come home with you! I doubt you're sleeping with tiny insects biting your ankles all night."
"The discomfort is good for you. Helps you
take your training more seriously."
"That makes zero sense," I say, shaking my head. "It doesn't motivate me. All it makes me want to do is leave this trailer of misery and keep walking toward Asheville."
"You'd start walking, but something else would finish that trip quick."
I pull my hair back into a loose ponytail. "You still think I can't survive without you?"
"I don't. Sorry."
"Well, I was doing just fine before I met you. Now that I have my new outfit and weapons, I think I'd be just fine," I say, crossing my arms.
"Do you even know how to load, fire, and clean your gun?" he asks.
"Well..."
"That would be a no," he says, cutting me off. "You don't know how to do any of those things because you had a headache yesterday, and opted to nap while Meredith and Daniel trained."
"Now, that's not..."
"And," he continues, "do you know how to start a proper fire? Also no, because you think as long as you have a lighter, you'll be fine. So, no, I don't think you would survive a trip to Asheville."
I huff, frustrated. "Whatever. I've never had trouble starting a fire. You're overreacting."
Erek tosses the paracord bracelet aside and looks at me. "You haven't had any trouble because you haven't had to deal with adverse conditions. But that's about to change, Princess. In another couple of weeks, hurricane season begins. That brings rain, in case you've forgotten. Lots of it."
I cringe. I hadn't given much thought to that, but he's right. Late September and early October are usually peppered with torrential downpours, and near-flooding conditions.
"And shortly after that," he adds, "you'll be dealing with early morning frost, followed closely by nights below freezing. Throw in increasing elevation, and you've got a recipe for disaster."
I sigh. He's right. It sucks, and I can't bring myself to admit it aloud to him, but he's got a point. I'm not ready to travel to Asheville. But we can't stay in this small, flea-infested trailer forever, waiting on the perfect weather conditions. I feel absolutely hopeless, like all my options and chances at finding my parents have been thrown in a big plastic bag and tossed in the garbage.
Erek must sense my despair because he leans closer and places a hand on my shoulder. "Listen. I'll get you to Asheville, but it's gonna be on my time, okay?" he says. "The right time."
I nod. A tear I couldn't catch in time cuts a dusty trail down my cheek. I wipe it away quickly, but not before Erek sees it.
"I'm sorry about your parents, Chloe," he says softly. "If they're still alive, I'll help you find them...but you have to prepare yourself for the reality that they may have been dead all along."
I nod again, but I can't speak. I don't trust myself to say a word. There's a very good chance he's right about my parents, but he's wrong about one thing.....I don't have to prepare myself for their deaths....I see it every night in my dreams.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Daniel
"Hey."
Meredith looks up from her gun. She's practicing the cleaning regimen Erek showed us yesterday. She smiles. "Hey yourself."
I nod at the gun in her hands. "Getting more comfortable with it?"
"I think so. Feels more natural now, anyway."
"Mind if I sit?"
She moves her spare rag. "Not at all. What's on your mind?"
"Erek."
"Oh?" she says, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Aren't you curious about where he sleeps at night?"
She laughs. "Okay, now you sound like Chloe."
"Really, though.....where is this elusive house?"
She shrugs. "I guess he'll take us there when he's ready. And if he's never ready, then we'll never see it."
"And you're okay with that?"
"I learned a long time ago that some things are better left alone."
"And you think this is one of those things?"
"Not necessarily. But, learning that lesson helped me realize I don't have to know everything. If someone wants to share something with me, that's their prerogative. If they don't, that's their prerogative, too."
I smile. "Duly noted."
She laughs. "That wasn't directed at you. I promise."
"Well, good, because...."
"Let me guess.....you have a question," she finishes for me.
"Maybe."
"Go ahead."
"If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?"
"Another one of these nonsensical questions, I see," she says, smiling.
"Not nonsensical," I say, pretending to be offended. "I just want to get to know you better. That's all."
She looks at me, but says nothing.
"So, are you gonna answer the question?"
She slowly re-assembles her gun and places it back in her holster. Then she says, "Well, I guess I would say the beach. One with white sand, and the clearest blue water you can imagine." She closes her eyes. "I would have a small....no, a big, fruity drink, with a little umbrella sticking out of it, and my bare feet would be buried in the warm sand." She opens her eyes, and smiles.
I smile, too. "I wish you could be there, Meredith. It sounds nice."
She sighs. "Yeah, but I can't be. So, best not to dwell on it." She looks at me, and says, "What about you? Where would you be if you could be anywhere in the world?"
"I'd probably settle for being at my house, with a cold beer in my hand, watching football."
"Wow, talk about living the American dream," she says sarcastically, and we both laugh.
I start to say something else, but Erek interrupts, calling us over to the work table for an impromptu meeting.
I stand. "Guess we better go see what he wants," I say, using my hand to knock the dirt off the seat of my pants.
"Yeah," Meredith says, standing as well. "I hope he isn't finally expelling Chloe from the Erek School of Survival."
I laugh, but the thought that he might actually do that worries me more than I'd like to admit.
* * *
Chloe
We're all standing in front of Erek, waiting on some big announcement. He looks serious.
This can't be good.
"I've been thinking," he says, rubbing the stubble on his chin. "You all have been nothing but honest with me these past few weeks. And, as Chloe so eloquently pointed out earlier today, the trailer has fleas. So, I've decided to take you to my home."
I'm happier than I thought possible. "Really?! Are you serious?!"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"No, but it's not too late to pick up the habit, you know."
"Don't push it, Princess."
I smile. "So when do we get to see it? Now?"
"We have to make once last stop at the store first."
I frown. "The store? What for? I bet your house is awesome...with a big shower, and indoor plumbing, and a generator, and....."
"Let's go, Princess...before I change my mind," he says, cutting me off.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chloe
"Tents? You're joking right?"
We're standing at the back of the store, looking at a selection of tents. Erek levels his gaze on me. "I said I don't joke, Princess. Not when it comes to survival. Now pick out the one you like so we can get out of here."
"But....but, the house? I don't understand."
"I didn't say you'd be sleeping inside my house. I just said you wouldn't be sleeping in the flea-infested trailer anymore."
Wayne and Daniel each grab a box. Meredith seems to be torn between two different models. Erek looks at her. "If I were you, I'd go with the one rated for freezing weather. It'll help you stay warm when the weather turns," he says.
He turns back to me. "Well?" he asks impatiently.
I crinkle my nose. "Fine. I'll take that one," I say, pointing to a box displaying a small purple tent on its label.
"Really? I figured you'd go for a bigger one."
"Size isn't everything," I say, smirking. "But I'm sure you
've heard that before."
He rolls his eyes. "Just grab the box so we can go."
I stick out my tongue when he turns his back.
"Alright. Now, let's get each of you a better sleeping bag, then we'll head on toward the homestead."
We spend ten more minutes selecting sleeping bags, and unboxing our new homes so we can carry them in our backpacks, then we exit the store. We enter the woods, only this time we take a right where we usually take a left, and begin a thirty minute hike up the side of what feels like a small mountain. The hill eventually levels off and the trees open up to reveal a small clearing in the woods.
The first thing I notice is a small, fifth wheel camper, parked in the middle of the clearing. There are two zero-gravity chairs framing a small fire pit a few feet away from the RV, and a late-model truck parked to the side. I wonder if it still runs. Then again, does it really matter? Gas eventually runs out, engines quit working.....legs and feet don't.
I turn my attention back to the RV. "A camper?”
Erek just smiles and winks. "Welcome home, Princess."
"Why the tents, then?" I ask. "Can't these things hold like eight people, or something like that?"
He nods. "Used to. Then the world ended, and I gutted the spare bedroom to create room for weapons and a makeshift triage."
"Great. Right back on the ground," I say, frowning.
He laughs. "Look on the bright side. There's a lake about 50 yards away...so you'll be able to start washing Daniel's drawers again."
"Shut up."
Over the next half-hour, we take turns helping one another set up our new homes, until the clearing looks like it has been painted in a splatter of reds, blues, and purples. Daniel, Meredith, and I group our tents together, close to Erek's fifth-wheel...and more importantly, the fire pit.
I glance at Erek. He's crouched beside the pit, building a small fire. The muscles in his arms flex as he breaks sticks and throws them onto the growing flames. A tattoo of an eagle holding an American flag in its talons, peeks out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt. Interesting. I've never noticed it before, but now that I've seen it, I find myself wondering if he has more. His short brown hair is growing longer, taking on a slightly tousled look. His beard is getting fuller.
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