My heartbeat picked up as I followed after it as quietly as I could. I came to the end of the row and saw it following blindly after a small, bony deer. My heartbeat went from quick to a full-on thunderstorm at the sight of the frightened animal, and I crouched even lower. The deader reached forward and growled hungrily. The deer bleated and backed up another couple of steps. It was only small, probably just a baby, and my heart panged for it. It was like watching a weird game of cat and mouse, only with the deader following the deer and me following the deader—that was, until we all came to a dead end. It was only then that the deer began to cry loudly, realizing its mistake—that its own judgment was now closing in on it.
The deader shambled forward quicker, eager to sink its filthy teeth into the frightened beast. However, in its eagerness it didn’t sense me, and before it could grab the deer, I slammed my katana into the back of its head, feeling the soft crunch of bone trembling through my wrist. It dropped instantly to its knees and I pulled out my knife as it started to fall forward onto its face. Black gunk sprayed out from around the hole in the deader’s head, and it finally found its peace.
I looked at the deer, seeing its innocence, its vulnerability in this world without someone or something to protect it. How it made it this long, I didn’t know. I held out my hand to it and smiled, making soothing noises like I was trying to get a cat to come toward me. It continued to cry, though not as loud as before, as if it somehow sensed that I was different from the other person that had been following it. It was still untrusting, still frightened, but it wasn’t as panicked as before. I moved forward, uttering more soothing words to it, until it could not back any further away.
Even in the darkness, I could see its thin body trembling with fear, and my fingers gently stroked its soft fur. Its heartbeat frantically drummed at a hundred miles an hour under my fingertips, and I couldn’t help but shed a tear for it. All it had ever known was death and fear. And for some reason that horrified me to my core.
Because we should know more than this—more than death and destruction. More than hate and murder. This world was once a beautiful place—which, granted, I never took much notice of at the time—but if I could go back, I’d be grateful for every little thing.
Perhaps that was the real reason I wanted to find this woman: Because the child she carried was all about new beginnings, and hope. Because perhaps with that child—with that hope—we could build a real safe place, somewhere that no deaders could get to, and we could build a future from this dead world.
I gripped the neck of the deer and pulled it toward me. It struggled and cried out, even as I hushed it and rubbed its ears in an attempt to calm it, and then before it could move away I dragged my katana across its throat. It kicked out with feeble, weak legs as its blood gushed from its neck, and I held it at arm’s length so I didn’t get the blood on me. Minutes passed as it bled out, and when it was completely dead I grabbed it around its middle and carried it back to our fire.
I stepped over the deer’s mother, the carcass old and long rotten—even the flies had finished their meal on the body. I headed back to Nova, wondering how we had missed it the first time around. Its body had been torn open, its insides dragged out and devoured. Its black eyes stared emptily in front of it. Like the eyes on a teddy bear, they were cold and devoid of life. Its mouth hung open in a silent scream, its tongue lolling to one side. I moved away from it quickly, not wanting to see any more, and feeling guilty as hell that I’d just killed its baby.
If there were a mirror nearby, I knew I wouldn’t be able to look at my own reflection. I felt shitty for killing this animal, though I shouldn’t have. I mean, it’s ridiculous that I felt any remorse for killing something that would sustain me, and keep both me and Nova alive. It was something that only a weak person would feel, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop the guilt that poured through me, the sadness that engulfed me as I carried the innocent animal back to camp, its weight a heavy burden on more than just my arms.
It had survived this long with its mother, and then between me and the rotting deader, we had wiped this entire family away. It broke my heart, but my stomach ached with the need for food, for the nutrients that this animal would give me. I knew I was being a total freaking girl over it, but I told myself that it was okay as long as no one knew. As long as everyone kept on believing the tough girl image that I projected, no one would ever know how weak I really was.
Nova stood when I came out of the shadows, confusion covering her face, which quickly turned into a wide smile as she clapped her hands together in delight.
“Well, darlin’, I didn’t know you were treating me to supper.” She laughed and took the dead deer from me. “Skinny little thing, isn’t it?” she said, poking its ribs.
“Better than nothing,” I replied.
“True that.” She opened her backpack and pulled out some plastic bags from our supplies. Who knew that these things that had once polluted so much of our world would in fact be insanely useful at the end of days?
I passed an upturned drum filled with dirty rainwater—not safe to drink, but it was hella good to wash up in. I sank my hands into the icy water and scrubbed away the blood.
“Do you know what to do with that thing?” I asked. Because I sure as hell didn’t. I saw what Mikey did to the rabbit and I could possibly mimic that, but this was not a rabbit.
“Just leave it to me,” she said, and lay it down on some tarp we had found earlier.
She pulled out one of her knives and began to slice away at it, and even though I had just killed it, I couldn’t bring myself to watch her. I stood guard as she cut away at it, the sound of tearing flesh and fur, snapping bones, and the smell of the blood making my stomach churn. But it also made me hungry, and I turned around to see if the food was ready to be cooked yet.
Nova had the deer in several sections, and was still digging into it with her knife. She glanced up at me and chuckled. “Come bag these guts and bladder up, darlin’, but we’re cooking the liver and kidneys—plenty a’ nutrients there for us.”
I shook my head with a grimace. “Nope. I’ll dispose of them, but I will literally vomit on my shoes if I have to scoop and bag any guts.”
She laughed even louder, and despite me retching as she dangled a leg in the air, I managed a small laugh too.
“You have to learn how to do this sometime, you know,” she said, but I turned away as she scooped up the insides and tipped them into one of the plastic bags. The sound of them sploshing together made me retch loudly. “Come and get em’.”
I turned around and headed closer to her, reaching for the bag of guts. She swung the bag at me like a child dangling a worm in front of her younger sibling, and laughed and jumped away.
“Nova.” I scowled, but she did it again anyway and laughed even more. “Stop that, that’s disgusting.” I finally snatched the bag from her and darted away, holding the bag as far in front of me as I could.
“You’re such a baby sometimes, Nina. Get rid of that and see if you can find some more wood for the fire so we can cook us up some food.” She began separating the body parts of the animal, and I headed back into the car graveyard to bury the insides somewhere that wouldn’t attract any deaders. I passed the deer’s mama again and made a mental note to go a different way on my way back out. Every time I saw her dead eyes, guilt traveled up my spine. I also wondered about moving her corpse in case her blood attracted any deaders. Deaders tend to stay away from anything that was already dead—as if there was something in the scent of the living that attracted them, and as soon as that little flash of life is extinguished, they were no longer interested.
But I didn’t like taking chances.
I carefully climbed up onto the roof of a rusted out car and placed the gore and entrails inside, under the driver’s seat and out of the way, and then I climbed back down. The air was cold, and I hurried back to Nova using a different route than previously, wanting the heat from the fire.
I stumbled upon a car that looked like someone had been living in it. Clothes and blankets covered the backseat, a couple of plastic bags filled with various items like half-empty water bottles and canned sardines. I wondered if all of this stuff was the deader’s that I had killed only an hour ago—obviously before he was a deader—because if so, then this stuff was free for the taking. Yet a niggling feeling made me leave everything. It felt wrong taking any of the things, just in case it was somebody else’s and they came back for it. Though if we had locked them out of the scrapyard for the night, they were going to be either killed or seriously pissed at us tomorrow morning regardless. Because by locking them out we had either sentenced them to death or given them a nightmare night of survival. I closed the door on the car without taking anything and continued back to Nova. We had food—fresh meat now—and supplies. I couldn’t steal someone else’s things when it could mean life or death to them. I wasn’t a killer—well, not a human-killer, anyway. I did just kill my first deer, after all.
*
I bit into the meat, pulling away thick chunks of stringy flesh. It tasted so good, and I couldn’t help but let out a low, satisfied moan as it slid hotly down my throat. I would be embarrassed if Nova wasn’t having the same reaction as me. I dropped the bone into the pile at my feet and took another leg. I shivered because of both the cold night air and satisfaction from the food.
Surprisingly, for such a skinny animal, there was more than enough to feed us. It was possible that our stomachs had just shrunk due to the lack of food, but whatever—I was just glad to be feeling warm with food in my belly. I took another bite, the meat coming away easily. Though possibly a little overcooked, it was still oh-so-delicious.
“This is good, right?”
I looked up at Nova, who was sucking the marrow out of a bone, and I nodded but didn’t speak through my mouthful of meat.
“I mean, this is really good. Not just good, but good-good.” She threw her bone into the pile and grabbed the last leg. “I don’t remember the last time I ate without being rationed on it. Or maybe it’s because it’s real meat, and not some freeze-dried crap of some sort.” She took a chunk between her teeth and began to chew, grease sliding down her chin that she wiped away haphazardly with the back of her hand.
I swallowed what I was chewing and nodded again. “It’s really good” was all I managed before I took another mouthful of deer. I hadn’t realized quite how hungry I was until the deer had started cooking, and the scent of fresh meat had sent me almost insane with hunger.
We finished off most of the animal, for once not being careful to ration and just eating until we were full. I packaged up the leftovers into more plastic bags and put them into our backpacks for the following day. It felt oddly comforting to feel so full of food that I had a slight tummy-ache from it. Comforting and satisfying. My head was achy and tired, my eyes sore from the need to sleep.
I put out the fire and we climbed up and into one of the cars, both of us piling inside to sleep. After finding a wandering deader we’d agreed it was probably not safe enough to sleep on the ground, even if we were almost certain that there were no more lurking in the dark. It was just not worth taking the risk.
Nova took the passenger seat, laying it all the way back and stretching herself out, and I took the backseat. I sat up for a while, staring out of the dirty windows. It began to rain, slowly at first but eventually coming down harder. The sky was dark and thick with clouds, not a single star to be seen. Even the moon was hidden from me, and after a while I finally drifted off.
I woke up early, jumping upright as my dreams still flashed before my eyes, the sound of screaming ringing in my ears, and the taste of blood in my mouth. Nova was snoring peacefully, unaware of my freak-out, and I was glad of that.
A light sweat covered my brow and I wiped it away with the sleeve of my sweater, embarrassed that the memories were still haunting me. How could something still affect me after so long? And when would they stop? They had stopped for a while, when I shared a bed with Mikey—as if his presence had soothed my fractured soul. But since we had been apart, they had started again, and with vigor.
It was early, by the looks of things, and I automatically looked at the watch on my wrist, though it was a fruitless exercise. My watch had stopped working six months or so back, yet I still wore the pointless item because it reminded me of home, and made things seem more bearable. You know, like, ‘
holy shit let’s chop this disgusting zombie’s head off before it eats us, but hey, let me check the time first.
’ Whatever—it made me feel more grounded to wear it, even if it didn’t work anymore.
I lay there staring up at the ceiling of the car, looking at the rust stains that covered the interior, and the spiderwebs that had been built into the dusty corners. I watched a fast-moving spider scurry in from the cold outside and run across the roof and into its web. I grimaced, and I swear to God it was staring down at me. I was so glad that I hadn’t known it was the night before
—
otherwise I would never have been able to sleep. I sat up, not being able to stand the spider’s constant staring any longer, plus I didn’t trust the shifty little bastard not to jump down onto my face. It was huge and hairy and might have had fangs. Hell, it could have been venomous for all I knew. I didn’t want to run the risk of falling back to sleep and it falling in my mouth!
I shuddered, the involuntary tremor running through my body and giving me the heebie-jeebies. I gave myself a mental shake and forced myself to calm the hell down. I looked out the window and saw that nothing had changed while we’d slept, in the world or in the scrapyard. It was still the same crappy place we went to sleep in, and the same zombie-infested world as yesterday. Not like I had expected it to be any different, of course, but one day—you never know—maybe we would wake up and all of this would be a dream. But I suppose “nightmare” would be a better analogy.
I sometimes fantasized about that: waking up and it all have been something my crazy mind had created. I imagined that Ben was still alive and we still lived in our little house with the brown fence. That I still got to wear pretty shoes and makeup, and that if I was hungry I could just go to the refrigerator. I imagined the long bath I would take, with a face mask and bubbles and hair treatments, and our comfy bed that I would sleep in, curled next to my husband’s warm body.
It was stupid and unfair to do it to myself, but sometimes it was hard not to. Sometimes the reality of this world was just so horrific that I needed to get away from it—
t
o get lost in memories and imagination and think back to when things were good, and safe, and I didn’t have to fight for my life every day. I never told anyone else I did this, mainly because I couldn’t bear to voice these thoughts. They were mine, and they stayed inside me. No one else could have these thoughts and memories.
I wiped at my eyes, determined not to cry. The sun was shining today, though the air still felt cold and dampness clung to it. At least the sun was out—
a
nd that could only mean that winter was on its way out. Everything always seemed better when the sun was out. In such a dark and brutal world, a little sunshine could make everything seem…a little more hopeful, perhaps—
f
or at least those thirty seconds when you could close your eyes, tilt your face up to the sky, and imagine that you were far, far away. And it made a good respite to the freezing temperatures we’d been traveling in.
From this position I could actually see over the fence and out of the yard. It looked pretty quiet out there, actually—no movements either near or far—and that was good. I was hoping that we could travel back to the truck and get moving again. Because we couldn’t just leave it there full of all our gear. It had everything we needed to survive, and while I knew that Nova could handle herself and would no doubt be able to create some new style of weapon from some old rusty car parts if she had to, I would much prefer to have our nasty ration packs and weapons that we had brought along on the trip.
I yawned, a face-stretching, jaw-clicking yawn. My eyes watered and I stretched out my shoulders, pulling my arms across my body one at a time until I heard a satisfying click in each shoulder. I glanced back up at Mr. Skinny Legs. He was still sat there, watching me, and he continued to creep me the hell out.
“Nova,” I whispered and nudged her shoulder.
Her snoring lightened but she didn’t wake up, so I nudged her again.
“Nova!” I whispered a little louder, startling her awake. To my surprise, she jumped out of her seat and fell into the footwell of the car in two seconds flat. Her weapon was in hand as she stared up at me.
“What is it?” she whispered, peering up slowly out of the window to her right.
I held my hands up and tried to restrain my chuckle. “Whoa. Easy, tiger.”
She looked back at me and scowled. “Everything’s good?”
I shrugged. “I’d hardly class this as ‘good,’ but we survived the night, yes.”
“Then what?” she hissed, still clearly confused as to why I had just woken her.
“I’m getting up. I’m hungry. I just didn’t want you waking and being worried where I was.” I shrugged again.
She climbed back up into her seat and lay down again. “Nina, you should never be allowed to wake people up. Ever.”
I leaned over the back of her seat and stared down at her, but she already had her eyes closed again. “It’s not my fault that you’re wound up so tight. You’re like a freaking cobra!” I whisper-shouted, though I had no idea why I was whispering, since she wasn’t actually asleep anymore.
“You startled me,” she said drolly, her eyes still firmly shut. “You should never startle a ninja.”
“You are not a ninja,” I snorted.
“I could be,” she murmured already drifting back to sleep.
“Whatever,” I replied tartly. “I’m going to look around. There’s a huge spider back here and it’s creeping me the hell out.”
Before I could move, Nova was back on her feet and climbing out of the car. We were two cars high, and we precariously began to climb back down.
“Ninjas don’t like spiders, then, I’m guessing,” I said with a chuckle as I followed her down.
She met me at the base of the car, because apparently ninjas can climb quicker than me, and I grinned at her over the roof of the beat-up Ford that separated us. She ignored my amused stare, instead going through a quick inventory checklist of the items situated on and around her body. I’d do the same but I’d feel kinda stupid doing it. She was way more armed than me with several knives tucked into various sheaths from waist to ankle, and a shotgun strapped to her back. Satisfied that she had everything, she looked over and gave me a quick nod, and we headed back to where we’d had our campfire the previous night.
The telltale circle of rocks and burnt-out fire pit are still there, but any other sign that we were there was removed last night. Nova set about starting another fire for us, and I emptied the buckets that I’d cleaned out and left to fill with rainwater overnight.
Twenty minutes and we were sitting in front of a small fire with fresh water and some of the meat from last night. It was still delicious, and filled the empty hole in my stomach once again.
“So, the plan for today?” Nova asked, gnawing on a bone.
I threw my current bone into the fire and swallowed down my water. “We head back to the truck and hope the deaders have gone. They don’t normally stick around for long once they sense there’s no food source. If it hadn’t been getting dark the night before, we could have easily waited them out.”
“I just hope that it’s still all there.”
“It’s still early.” I checked my watch out of habit, though it still said ten to two, like it had for months. “If we set off now, we could be there in the next two hours.” My head was beginning to throb, my sinuses feeling swollen, and I worried that I might be coming down with a cold. It was actually miraculous that I hadn’t already, to be honest, what with how much time outside in the rain and cold I’d spent recently. Still, I hoped that it faded away without actually making me sick.
Nova nodded and began to pack our meager supplies away. I stamped out the fire and shouldered my backpack, and together we made our way to the gate. I climbed up to the top and looked down the road to check for any oncoming hordes of dead, but it seemed clear and I climbed back down.
Unlocking the gate, we left, making sure to lock it back up after us. You never knew when a safe place would be needed—for us or for others. We headed back down the road toward where we had left our truck stranded the previous night, a silence falling around us. Our footsteps were the only companions out there; not even a bird chirped in any nearby trees. That made me antsy, since birds only went quiet when there was trouble around. They always seemed to have the better sense to keep quiet when the dead were close. Not that the dead would really bother them. Deaders couldn’t climb, which gave the flying species of this world a far better advantage than us humans.
I think back to my previous home within the trees and marvel once again at what a tragic loss it was. That place had been fantastic and had everything we needed. The Outdoor Activity Center had been useless, but the treetop homes had been safe above ground, a sanctuary within the trees. I missed that place—just as much as I missed the people that had lived there.
The army base where I lived now was great, no doubt—secured on all sides by six-foot-high fencing, large gates, and people who knew what the hell they were doing. But having two feet on the ground makes me nervous, plus, it was huge, far too big to really be watched by everyone. They had closed a lot of the base off, in the hopes that keeping it small and tight would make it safer, but I still didn’t trust it. It would only take one weak spot in the fences to bring our world down. At least up in the trees I could always sleep safe in the knowledge that nothing could sneak up on me or break in while I was sleeping—at least nothing dead, anyway.
“You’re quiet,” Nova commented.
I yawned and swapped my katana from left to right, flexing my fingers out. “I think I’m coming down with a cold,” I said, and as if on cue, I sneezed loudly.
“Bless you,” she said helpfully. “You look thoughtful though.”
I shrugged. “I’m always thoughtful.” I smiled.
“Care to share?”
“Not really.” I looked across at her. “Why so chatty today?”
“I’m not chatty, I want
you
to be. I don’t really like the silence. The world is too silent these days. Still freaks me out. The world used to be noisy—cars, planes, laughing, talking, fighting, music.” She bent down and grabbed a rock, pulled out her knife, and began sharpening it on the side of the rock.
The grinding slice of the metal on the rock was therapeutic, and I forgot that she had actually asked me a question.
“I hate the silence of everything, makes it hard to believe that we’re not the only ones left,” she added on after a moment.
“Can’t disagree with that, I guess, but I kinda like the silence. It makes it easier to hear if a deader gets too close.”
She sighed. “So? What were you thinking?”
I looked across at her again with a raised eyebrow. “Sorry, I’m not really the sharing type.”
She snorted at me. “You shared last night.”
I rolled my eyes. “I was feeling reflective last night. Today I’m not.”
Nova huffed. “Come on, just talk about something mundane, then. I like noise. I need the noise.” She put away her knife and swiftly pulled out a different one and began giving it the same treatment. “You could sing,” she offered, and I barked out a laugh.
“No, that’s not gonna happen.”
She huffed and we continued our silent walk. Minutes passed by until the sound was broken up by Nova again. “Okay, so quick-fire round.”
“What?”
“Ice cream or chocolate?”
“Again, what?” I raised an eyebrow at her again.
“Ice cream. Definitely ice cream. Okay, milk or fresh juice?”
“I’m not doing this.” I scowled.
“Sure you are. Milk, but it has to be freezing cold, maybe even with a couple of ice cubes floating in it. Shit, I miss ice so bad! Okay, clean underwear or a new coat?”
“Underwear,” I replied without any hesitance. “But I’m not doing this.”
“Don’t be so uptight, Nina.” It was her turn to scowl now. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette. “You don’t always have to be so teenage angst about things.” She lit it and took a long drag. “I bet you listened to Nirvana your entire youth.” She laughed.
“I am not teenage angst, thank you very much.” I stared up at the road ahead of us. It seemed to go on for miles, this weird little scrapyard smack dab in the middle of nowhere, but I knew it was only another twenty minutes or so to the garage just outside the town, where we had left the truck. “We just need to pay attention. Besides, I never listened to Nirvana. I was more of a Jimi Hendrix fan.”