Eat, Prey, Decay: 7 Tales of the Apocalypse (Zombie, Dark Fantasy, Dystopian, Horror, & Post-Apocalyptic Boxed Set), page 8
Will and Dusty came back.
“All clear,” Will said. “Let’s head to the kitchen and get started,” he told Summer.
“I’ll keep watch here,” I said. The three of them moved off.
I couldn’t see anything moving outside. I headed toward the long hallway down which Jamie and Ian had disappeared. When I reached hallway, I heard their voices. Their words were heated. I accidently caught a snippet of conversation. What I heard made me pause.
“All I’m saying is apologize, man. Not everyone can just blow a kid’s brains out. You’ve got no business yelling at her like that,” Jamie was saying.
“She knows it was just in the heat of the moment. She’s fine,” Ian replied.
“Christ, Ian, after everything you put her through you expect her to just pick up where you left off, with all your bullshit still intact,” Jamie said.
“What the fuck is it to you, brother? What are you doing with her all the time anyway? What have you got on your mind?”
“At least I’m seeing her for who she is, not who she was. Which is more than I can say for you,” Jamie replied.
“You better step off, brother. You better step off,” Ian warned.
“Or what?” Jamie replied.
There was a glass door at the end of the hallway. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted movement outside. I followed the hallway the opposite direction from where the brothers were arguing. I didn’t want to hear anymore. At the end of the hallway, I leaned against the glass and looked outside. There was no one there.
I pushed the door open and went out. I looked around. There was no one, but to the right of the shooting range sat a gray wolf. It sat on the lawn looking expectantly at me. I walked down the stairs and moved slowly across the lawn toward the animal.
The wolf turned and trotted into the tall grass. I saw only its tail wagging through the tall weeds. It reappeared on the other side of the field where the grassy met the edge of the forest. It turned once more and stood looking at me. It was almost like it was waiting.
A moment later the door on the porch opened. I stood still and didn’t look back. I was waiting too.
“What is it?” Jamie asked, coming up behind me.
I turned and looked. Only Jamie had come.
“A wolf, there, by the tree line,” I said, pointing.
Jamie peered toward the woods.
The wolf turned and trotted into the forest.
“That’s unusual,” he said.
I nodded. “Let’s go check out the shooting range.”
Jamie walked silently beside me. I could tell he was thinking, and I really hoped he didn’t know I’d overheard their argument. Embarrassed, I felt like a snoop.
We rounded the earthen wall and walked down the steps to the shooting stand.
“Booyah,” Jamie said.
There, laid out on the tables at the shooting stand, was row after row of guns and ammo.
“They must have been doing hunter’s safety training or something,” I said as we walked amongst the tables, picking up the rifles.
“I don’t know what they were doing, but I sure am glad,” Jamie said. “Come on, let’s get the others,” he added, and we headed back.
Jamie went to pull the SUV closer to the range, and I went inside to get some help. As I walked toward the kitchen, I heard Summer and Ian talking.
“Your reception was so beautiful. You remember the cake? Mom and I almost dropped it carrying it up those back steps,” Summer was telling Ian.
They both chuckled.
“Yeah, it really was beautiful. You and your mom really did a great job,” Ian replied.
A lump rose in my throat.
I walked into the kitchen just as Dusty and Ian exited the storage cupboard pushing dollies with boxes of food. I smiled. “You think that’s a good haul, wait until you see what we found out back,” I said.
We finished loading Ian’s truck with the cases of canned foods then headed around back to the shooting range where Jamie had been loading my SUV. We loaded all the guns and ammo. Inside, we’d also found several more cases of ammo. Though it had been a rough go, the haul was worth it.
It was after noon when we left Mara Hunting Club. Jamie and Will rode in the back of Ian’s truck keeping the supplies secure while Summer and Dusty took my SUV. I rode back with Ian. As we pulled away from the club, I looked in the rear view mirror. The wolf appeared again at the edge of the forest.
Ian turned the truck toward town. The image of the wolf fell out of sight. We’d been riding in silence for a long time before Ian finally reached out and took my hand.
“Hey, sorry I yelled at you today,” he said, squeezing my fingers.
I nodded but pulled my hand back.
I looked in the mirror again to find Jamie looking at me. Caught, he smiled abashedly. I smiled and winked playfully at him. Then we headed home.
Chapter 13
When I was fifteen, Ian and I had snuck away from my grandma and his parents at the Fourth of July fireworks display to make out under the bridge. I remembered seeing, as we snuck off in the darkness, the townspeople in Grandin Park looking upward as fireworks exploded. Their faces were illuminated shades of green, yellow, and pink in the exploding light. I remembered my grandmother’s face clearest of all. How happy she’d seemed, her face glowing pink, as she delighted in the simple things of life.
Standing on the street in front of the bridge, I turned and looked behind me. Almost everyone had come. The remaining townspeople were assembled in Grandin Park to watch the newest fireworks display. Sadness and despair wracked every face. People looked like pale, hollow versions of themselves. Everyone shifted nervously. They wouldn’t miss this sight for the world but were in fear of their lives every second.
Larry appeared from under the bridge and signaled for everyone to get back. I jogged back toward the park and waited with the others. Larry made a few adjustments to the fuse box and then, with a quick movement, set something alight and ran to join us.
“Cover your ears,” Jamie said to me.
Moments later a noise, much like a fireworks finale, sounded. I felt the ground shake under me. We covered our ears and ducked. The old metal bridge groaned. Asphalt flew into the air then dropped into the river below. A huge puff of smoke enveloped the structure, and with a heave, the middle of the Hamletville Bridge began to collapse. There was an awful grinding sound as the bridge seemed to resist its destruction. Finally, the beams gave way, and the structure fell apart in the middle, the pieces falling into the river.
“She’s down,” Larry called.
“I feel like we just destroyed civilization,” I whispered to Jamie, fighting back tears.
I turned to look behind me. The residents, their faces long and pale, had already turned away and headed back to whatever they had left.
The death of the bridge ensured our survival. With the bridge collapsed, there was no way the undead could reach the town from the interstate—unless they decided to swim—which was the main route into our town. The barricades at either end of Main Street were now in place. A mess of old vehicles, scrap metal, farm equipment, and barbed wire and fencing ran cross the road and between buildings at either end of town. The town entryways were now secure enough to slow any visitors. All of us were poignantly aware that there were many farms scattered across the countryside with bodies yet unaccounted for; some visitors were expected. Otherwise there was the wildness of the forest and the dark black waves of the lake to protect us. With the bridge down, there was a certain finality to the entire situation.
We spent the next three weeks canvasing the town to rid it of pesky undead locked in houses and raiding residents’ homes for supplies. Everything was stored in the elementary school gym. We decided to work on an honors system: take only what you need. We made arrangements to rotate shifts at the school and the barricades. Everyone was accounted for and paired up to be protected. And everyone was acutely aware we’d had absolutely no contact from the outside. Thus far Kiki had no luck with the radio. The world, it seemed, had gone silent. It was something we knew but did not talk about. We were alone.
Around mid-October, Fred noticed that Tander Vineyard and Orchard looked ready to bust at its seams. A popular spot for passing tourists, the Tander Orchard usually offered fruit picking, a pumpkin patch, and hayrides every autumn. Fred Johnson had checked the Tander house, but the family was nowhere to be found. We all decided to head out one morning and collect the harvest. Ethel had arranged to show us all how to do canning and had a workshop set up in the gym. We had begun to function like an authentic village.
Jamie and Fred drove tractors with attached wagons to the farm that morning. Jamie had convinced a reluctant Frenchie to bring the girls. It took some doing. They almost never left the cabin. I didn’t blame Frenchie. If they were my children, I would have stayed put as well.
I rode with Jamie, Frenchie, and the girls in the wagon. The girls were very excited. It was a chilly fall morning. The first freeze had not yet come, but it was close. The scene looked almost like a tailgate party. There were about two dozen people there, most of them armed. Empty bushel baskets sat on the ground.
Ian and Tom approached us when we arrived.
“Swept the entire place. Looks clear,” Ian said.
“We’ve got armed folks all around the farm keeping an eye out,” Tom added.
“I want a pumpkin,” Kira squealed.
“Me too,” Susan called.
“Let’s go,” Tom said. He picked Kira up and swung her onto his shoulders.
Frenchie, hand in hand with Susan, smiled at me and followed Tom.
I grinned at her.
April, Summer, Ethel, Jensen, and Larry pulled up in Larry’s van.
Ethel emerged with a large box. “Until I figure out how to bake in a fire pit, this will have to do,” she said. “I used Mrs. Winchester’s recipe for homemade granola. Got it a bit burnt I’m afraid, and I think I used up the last raisins on the planet,” she said and started handing out small bags to all of us.
Jamie took a bag and kissed Ethel on the cheek. “You’re an angel,” he said.
Ethel pinched his cheek. “Honey, that’s you. How come you never got married? Summer, why don’t you go with Jamie?”
Summer looked like she wanted to sink into the ground. “Good lord, mother, the apocalypse is here and you’re still trying to fix me up.”
Everyone chuckled.
“Oh, there’s Frenchie and her girls. I have something special for them. Let’s go,” Ethel said, pulling Summer behind her. Summer shook her head and rolled her eyes as she passed me.
“Tom’s got people working the vines and the pumpkins. A few people are back in the cherry orchard. We still need people to pick apples. I thought we could work up here,” Ian told Jamie, April, and me.
We all picked up some baskets and headed into the orchard. Ian, his gun slung over his shoulder, kept watch. It was a beautiful morning. The sky was clear. The hardwood trees had lost most of their leaves. The remaining foliage, now drab brown, rust, and deep red in color, was about to drop. The apple trees were thick with fruit. The fallen apples filled the air with the tangy smell of decayed fruit. Yellow jackets buzzed the apples.
April was working in the tree next to mine. I could hear her and Ian chatting. I wondered what kind of relationship they’d developed over the last four years. April and Kristie had always been very close.
I filled the first basket of apples and headed back to the wagon with my load. The bushel was surprisingly heavy. Jamie was on his way back to the orchard when he intercepted me.
“Here, let me take that for you,” he said, taking the bushel from my hands.
“Got to help the little lady, huh?”
He laughed. “I’m sure you can handle it. I’m just being gentlemanly. Didn’t you hear Ethel? I’m a great catch.”
I looked up at Jamie. I’d never noticed before how different his eyes were from Ian’s. I knew they both had blue eyes, but Jamie’s eyes were a deeper shade, the blue intermixed with flecks of green and gold. I smiled at him. “What happened with that girl from Sparkstown?”
Jamie shrugged. “That ended a couple of years ago. She was nothing special.”
“Well, you’ll be hard-pressed now,” I said.
“Hard-pressed for what?”
“To find someone special.”
Jamie lowered the apple bushel into the wagon. He looked at me and gave me a very awkward smile. “I don’t know about that.”
Just then a truck pulled into the farm, music blaring loudly. Jeff.
“Hey man, you want every undead asshole left in the county following you here? Turn it down,” Jamie told him as he approached Jeff’s truck window.
Jeff got out of the truck carrying an oversized CD player. He put it on his shoulder; “Just like the 80s, right?” he said and danced his way to the back of his truck. He dropped the tailgate. There he had stashed three large coolers. Within, bottles of beer swam in cold lake water. “Want one?” he asked.
Jamie shook his head.
“It’s a bit early,” I said.
“Well, considering I might die tomorrow, I’m not really watching the clock,” he replied as he cracked open a bottle.
“But you can get to work,” I said, handing an empty basket to him, “if you want to eat.”
“Thought I might try a liquid diet,” he said, lifting the bottle and looking at it in the sunlight. “Just kidding, Layla. I’ll get going in a minute,” he said and took the basket from me.
I was just grabbing myself another basket when Tom returned.
“Jamie, can you take the tractor back to the field? They’re ready to load the gourds and pumpkins.”
Ian joined us.
“Sure,” Jamie said with a nod. The old tractor kicked on with a lurch. With a wave, Jamie pulled away.
I grabbed a ladder and headed back to finish the top of the tree I was working on. I waved to April. She was hoisting the long fruit picker, a kind of clawed basket at the end of a long pole, into the top of a tree near mine. She smiled, half-tolerantly, at me.
I popped open the ladder and climbed up. When I got halfway up, two things became apparent: I needed to use the shoulder sling to collect the apples, and my sword and holster were in the way. I climbed back down, hung my scabbard strap on the top of the ladder, and swung the holster from a bottom limb. Donning the shoulder sling, I climbed back up the ladder and started loading apples into the satchel. I paused to eat a perfect-looking fruit. Its skin was mostly green but was blushed red. The sweet and tart juices filled my mouth.
In the distance I could see Jeff and Ian sitting on Jeff’s tailgate. They were both drinking. Jeff had turned the music back on. It wasn’t loud, but I could hear the beat of the rock music from where I was perched.
I had already filled my satchel halfway when I could no longer reach the apples from my ladder. Grabbing a thick branch, I pulled myself up into the tree. Once I was perched near the top, I took a break to stretch my back. The sun was high in the sky now; I was starting to sweat. The bugs were becoming particularly annoying. I stopped, pulled the small canteen off my belt, and took a long drink. I looked for April to offer her some water when I saw someone standing very near my tree. I could not make out the person well through the leaves, but every hair on the back of my neck rose. The person stood there saying nothing. They just stood. I knew then who—or what—it was.
It had not yet seen me. I cursed myself in every language I knew. My guns and sword were out of reach. I slowly pulled my feet up and slid the poyasni from my boots.
“Ouch. Dammit. God-damned yellow jackets,” April cursed.
The figure under me moved. Then I saw three others. They all closed in on her.
“April, watch out!” I screamed.
The one who had stood under my tree turned then and came back. He jogged around the bottom of my tree trying to catch sight of me. He was joined a moment later by another undead man. They both swung at me, trying to pull me from the tree.
April screamed and tried to run, swinging the apple picker at the undead men who tried to grab her.
“Ian!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Ian, help!”
Larry and Jensen had just got back to the truck. They were setting their bushels down.
“Ian!” I screamed louder. “Larry!”
The undead men bumped against the ladder knocking it and my weapons on the ground.
“Layla, help!” April screamed. She was trying to climb into the tree but they were grabbing at her.
I swung down, trying to strike one of the undead with a dagger. They were out of range, and my position was too awkward. I could neither throw nor strike. I considered jumping out of the tree but landing would be clumsy and slow. I was about to try anyway when April let out a blood curdling cry.
The men looked up. “Ian, help!!” I screamed again, waving at him. He saw me then. Dropping everything, the men took off in a sprint, weapons drawn.
Through the leaves I saw April had been pulled to the ground. She was screaming but still kicking and fighting.
Moments later there was gunfire. The undead figures hovering over April fell to the ground. I heard April crying and moaning.
They shot the two undead under my tree. As soon as they hit the ground I clambered out of the tree, grabbed my weapons, and ran to April.
We were too late. One of her sneakers had been torn off, and her foot was badly wounded. She had been bitten. Her leg was bleeding profusely.
“Someone get Jamie,” I said as I pulled on a pair of medical gloves.
Jensen took off in a sprint.
I cursed myself for my carelessness, cursed myself because April had no hope. I slid the gloves on and taking my knife, cut away April’s jeans. A nasty bite wound was revealed.
“Oh no, no, no,” April moaned.
Ian took April’s hand.
My hands shook. Larry pulled off his belt and handed it to me. I wrapped the belt around April’s leg and pulled it tight. She moaned.
Jensen and Jamie came running up. “God dammit, Ian. I told you to keep an eye on…them,” he cursed and dropped to his knees. “Go get everyone rounded up and sweep this place again,” he told his brother angrily as he pulled on his gloves.
