Dying Days: Origins 2 Page 9

  Now he was lost. So close and yet so far away, he thought. He unconsciously put his hand on the tarp and sighed. The girls curled up together, still sobbing, and closed their eyes.

  Chris realized he was touching the tarp and pulled his hand away, ashamed he'd done it so quickly now. Like he'd be bitten or diseased from the touch. This has gone from bad to worse, he thought. A part of him wished he'd stayed locked in his home. Maybe the zombies had washed past Iowa and were gone? Maybe the government had wiped them out. "Maybe I'll see zombie pigs fly," he whispered as he got back into the truck and started the engine.

  He drove for six miles until he came to a crossroad. Left or right?

  Since getting into Canada (thanks to the chaos back at the border, where the zombies were busy ripping apart the few living that remained), he'd been driving from memory. Chris had stared at the map over and over each night, plotting their course and trying to stay ahead of potential bad spots like major cities or river crossings.

  When they'd been attacked two nights ago and lost nearly everything, the most important item was the map. Food and water could be replaced (not easily, but in theory it could), but finding another map of the upper part of the United States and Canada was impossible.

  Chris closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. He knew Thunder Bay was around here somewhere, because a sign two hours ago said it was one hundred miles. Or maybe it was kilometers? Chris was having trouble remembering the ratio. He was getting too tired and was enjoying having his eyes closed when one of the girls banged on the back window.

  "Someone's coming, daddy."

  It was getting near dusk and he could see the distant twin headlights far down the road, the way they'd come. Someone who didn’t care if they were seen. Chris needed to outrun what were surely the marauders, coming to finish the job.

  "Sit down and hold onto each other," Chris yelled. He put the pickup in drive and turned left, which was as good a way as any at this point. With any luck, he'd be able to drive a few miles without using the headlights or using the brakes and giving away their position.

  He'd lost too much weight too quickly, and he knew before long he'd hallucinate and be no use to the girls. Or to his wife.

  Chris concentrated on the road ahead, leaning forward over the dash to see where the road was without use of the headlights. He was driving as slow as he could and taking pains to keep his foot off the brake. One tap and the red backlights would be a beacon to those coming up quickly.

  There was a side road, a dirt path going a few feet into the dark woods before Chris lost sight of its conclusion. He looked in his side mirror and could see whoever was following was catching up. He wouldn’t last a mile if they took the same road.

  “Hang on, girls,” Chris said and turned the wheel, slipping his foot off the gas as he turned onto the dirt road. Once he was sure it was a straight path for at least a bit he gunned it.

  The pickup coasted around a turn and Chris tapped the gas again. The headlights of the pursuit were lost in the woods behind him for now.

  Another sharp turn and he gave it more gas but restrained from hitting the brake as the natural path suddenly cut back and the pickup shot over a slight ridge in the road and into the tree line.

  Chris corrected the wheel, picking up his feet so he didn’t give away where they were and praying to God to help him.

  The pickup slowed enough running through the underbrush and Chris turned the wheel, clipping a tree. The truck came to rest without too much of a problem, which he was thankful for.

  “Girls, we need to get out. Right now.”

  “What about mommy?” Allie asked.

  Chris wanted to cry but needed to be strong. “We’ll come back for her. I promise.” He hoped he wasn’t lying to his daughter. Even though Jean was… gone… his ultimate goal would be to bury her body when they finally found a safe haven. If he could find it.

  The girls got out, both shivering in the cold night air.

  Chris took both by the hand and walked a few feet in front of the pickup truck before stopping at a tree. “I want you both to put your hand on the bark and don’t let go until I say so. Got it?”

  “No, daddy. Don’t leave us,” Edy said. He could hear her voice hitch and knew she’d be crying hysterically in a second. He needed her to keep quiet.

  “Edy, honey, don’t start crying. Please,” Chris said and sighed when she did, the noise carrying in the silence.

  He gripped his daughter by the shoulders, knowing he’d regret it later but knowing he didn’t have time to coddle her. This was a new world, and he wanted to cry himself. His girls would need to grow up quickly. “Stop crying or the bad people will hear you and we’ll die.”

  “Daddy…” Allie said.

  “It’s true. We are really in trouble. I want to move your mom’s body from the truck in case the men following us find it. I can’t have them take her body, understand? I will be back in a minute. I’m right there. You can see me moving. But you need to be quiet or we’re not going to last another ten minutes.”

  Chris turned and walked back to the pickup truck, expecting his daughters to cry, but they remained quiet. He scanned the woods but couldn’t see headlights or hear a car engine. But he knew they weren’t safe.

  The tarp holding his wife’s body was in an awkward position in the back of the truck and he had to waste time climbing into the bed and dragging the body back to the tailgate. All the while he felt eyes on him from the darkness, expecting a zombie horde or someone breathing with a shotgun to step out and finish him.

  “Calm down and get through this,” he whispered. The girls needed him now more than ever. They needed him to be strong or at least act it.

  Once the tarp was pulled off the truck he placed it gently over his shoulder and carried it away from the girls and into the woods.

  After a hundred feet or so he was growing tired and placed the tarp beside a thick tree, hoping it wouldn’t be seen from where the truck was parked.

  He trudged back through the thick underbrush, aware how loud he was being but in the dark it was hard to be silent.

  “Daddy, it’s snowing,” Edy said and raised her hands and face to the sky when he returned.

  Chris smiled. He hadn’t noticed. Maybe snow would blanket their escape. Maybe something was going to happen that went their way for a change.

  “We need to start walking,” Chris said. “We aren’t far now.”

  Somewhere in the distance, echoing through the trees, he heard a car engine faintly.

  “There’s a fence,” Allie said at the same time Chris saw it.

  I think we made it, he thought. “Let’s go right and follow it. We need to find the break in it.”

  Chris tried to remain calm as they walked. He was very proud of his girls, because even he was getting a little spooked being outside in the middle of nowhere. Every twig and leaf they stepped on was like banging a gong. The girls shuffled their feet when they walked, kicking up every rock and branch underfoot. He told them several times to walk lightly and follow where he was walking.

  His head snapping back and forth, Chris didn’t notice the break in the fence until they were almost past it.

  The snow was coming down harder now, but not yet sticking to the ground. The girls were distracted, faces up, letting the snowflakes dissolve on their noses and cheeks. Chris wanted to cry. This would’ve been a wonderful family moment for them… if they were still an unbroken family.

  Chris felt guilty for dumping his wife in the woods for a wild animal to find, but he had no choice. There weren’t many choices he could make that wouldn’t result in something horrific at this point. All he could do is keep moving forward.

  The steel door to the bunker was found by Edy, who had better eyes in the dark than Chris. It was a good thing because if they’d relied on him they would’ve kept walking and walking.

  Chris panicked briefly when he couldn’t remember the pass code David Monsour had given him back in Iowa when
they’d first met. It seemed like years ago. So much had happened since that chance meeting, one Chris knew had saved his family’s life.

  Most of his family.

  “Daddy, I’m cold,” Allie whispered.

  Chris punched in the code and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the lock disengage.

  * * * * *

  “I’m fine,” Allie said. She uncovered the cut on her arm and showed it to her dad. “See? I told mom it wasn’t a bite. It was only because I fell down on the ground.”

  Chris nodded slowly and looked away. He didn’t want to think about what mommy thought had happened… and what had subsequently happened.

  “Two more and then it will be bedtime,” Chris said to Edy before handing her the nearly-empty box of Oreo cookies. “Save me four.”

  “Why do you get twice as many?” Allie asked with a grin.

  “Because I’m the adult. As usual.”

  Chris was trying to figure out the computer setup, with six monitors turned on but blank on the wall in front of him. He sighed and tapped the keyboard but nothing happened.

  “What are you trying to do?” Edy asked. She stood next to her dad and offered him one of her Oreo cookies. “You want to put the TV’s on?”

  Chris laughed. “I’m trying to do it, honey. Why don’t you go pick out which bed is yours?”

  “I already did. I’m going to share the big one with Allie. Watch out for a second, I got this,” Edy said and pushed gently on her dad’s shoulder.

  Amused, Chris stood and stretched as his daughter took over the chair.

  “If I can find Angry Birds I’m going to play,” Edy said.

  “If you can turn all this equipment on for me and make it work, I’ll let you play any game you want… within reason,” Chris quickly amended. “I’m going to find something to snack on.”

  David and Cheryl had done an amazing job of stocking the shelter. The pantry was packed, the shelves three feet deep and organized. There was an entire six foot long by ten foot high space just for canned goods. All sorted by kind and then subcategorized: whole corn, cream of corn, sweet corn, baby corn, sweet baby corn… some items Chris had never heard of. He wasn’t much of a cook, but he hoped he had time to learn.

  A stack of cookbooks almost to his waist was piled next to one of the food areas. He guessed he’d teach the girls how to cook. Perhaps it would bring them closer together and they could move past their mother being…

  “Hey, this is cool,” Edy said.

  Chris turned and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Every screen was on and showing a different shot of the area around the shelter in a faint glowing green color. Night vision cameras. There was a camera aimed at the main road coming in, and Chris saw two pickup trucks stopped at the intersection.

  “Are those the men following us?” Edy asked.

  Allie came over and pulled a chair up. “Can we watch cartoons?”

  “Not right now, honey.” Chris asked Edy to show him what she’d done to get the console to work.

  “It’s really simple.”

  “Maybe for you,” Chris said. He watched as the two pickup trucks split up, one heading their way. Had he parked his truck far enough away they couldn’t spot it? “Why don’t you girls get ready for bed? It’s been a long day.”

  “Are those men going to find our hiding spot?” Allie asked.

  “Not if I can help it,” Chris said and realized it wasn’t the most soothing thing to say. “We’re well-hidden. As long as we keep quiet they can’t get to us. So no one blast One Direction songs until I say so. Which I never will.”

  The girls laughed before moving off into the next room where the beds and bathroom area were. The complex was five interconnected rooms but Chris had only explored these two so far. He was sure one of them was a weapon’s hold. He could only imagine what the Monsour stockpile looked like.

  Shit. The pickup truck came into view on the camera on the side path, and they followed the drive he’d taken not too long ago. Chris could only watch as the truck pulled up near his crashed pickup and three armed men got out, scanning the area as they walked.

  Chris had the keys to the pickup, so he wasn’t worried about them stealing it. But he was sure they’d dismantle the engine or shoot out the tires. Maybe they’d go no further, thinking they’d left them for dead.

  Snow was falling in lazy spirals, making it hard for Chris to see more than the outlines of the men, but he could see enough to know they were dangerous and if they found the shelter his family was in trouble.

  One of them smashed the driver’s window in with his rifle butt and opened the door. His two partners walked several feet in opposite directions, rifles pointing as they moved.

  Chris held his breath because he knew the one to the left of the camera was within a few feet of Jean’s body. He didn’t know what they would actually do with a corpse. His goal was to give her a proper burial.

  Jean hadn’t been bitten.

  But the thought of one of her daughter’s being bitten and turned into a monster was too much for her.

  Chris hated her right now for doing what she’d done and leaving him with the mess of cleaning up and raising the girls on his own in this shitty, shitty world.

  The man in the pickup truck was slumped down and now Chris saw why. He sat up and turned the pickup truck on. They weren’t going to shoot out the tires or break the windows. They were taking it.

  Bastards.

  Chris could only watch as they drove away, knowing they’d be back sooner than later.

  * * * * *

  He’d remembered a rule about hunting he’d learned from someone, or maybe from a movie: only shoot once. If you shot a second time anyone following or looking for you could figure out where you were.

  The snow was over a foot deep, and drifts came to his shoulders, but he was bundled tightly and taking his sweet time in the early morning, enjoying the cold and the sunshine.

  Chris heard something crashing through the forest not too far away and stopped, getting the rifle ready. Was it a deer? A bear? Another human?

  They hadn’t seen anyone living or undead in the woods since the first night when the truck was stolen. Chris hoped the men thought he was dead by now or lost in the woods, especially with the snow and cold.

  Even though Chris had gone through the inventory lists at the bunker (thank you, Cheryl, for the meticulous work) he knew at some point they’d need more meat to survive.

  Chris had never killed an animal before. He’d never even thought of it. Not because of some big moral issue but because of convenience. He could buy meat and chicken by the pound at the supermarket and cook it on the grill at home. There was a huge difference between hunting and buying your meat.

  The girls were safe inside the bunker, door locked and hidden. Chris had made a few improvements in the last few days. He’d gathered branches and wiped out the path leading to the safe haven. The side road was also now blocked with a log it had taken him three hours to move inch by inch by using smaller trees to wedge underneath and prod along. Chris was quite proud of himself for it, too.

  If David and Cheryl returned they’d still be able to find the place. But anyone else coming along would need a miracle to stumble upon them.

  Chris knew at some point gas and oil would become an issue, but they were being thrifty with what they had. According to the various maps left behind, a few small towns were within ten miles. It would be a long walk but worth it if Chris had no other choice.

  He estimated they could eat well and still have a year’s worth of food as long as neither girl went through a growth spurt and decided they needed to eat everything.

  The front section of the food supplies were perishables, which they’d been steadily going through. The snacks were all but gone, which was fine. It was better to be eaten than to go to waste or get stale.

  Too late, Chris had found a covered area just down the road where he guessed the Monsour’s Raptor would have been parke
d. If he’d known he could’ve hidden the pickup truck. But there was no longer a use in worrying about it. What was done was done. Chris hoped someday he’d find another vehicle for emergencies and store it there.

  Right now the spot held Jean’s body, still wrapped in the tarp. The ground was too hard and frozen to bury her properly. Chris knew it was a risk keeping her body around. Any wild animal could smell her at some point and wander the area. The barbed wire fencing to the west and north weren’t going to keep all predators out.

  Chris spent at least a few minutes a day out in the frigid cold talking to her, letting her know the girls were safe. Letting Jean know they would survive.

  Letting his wife know how selfish and horrible of an act she’d committed when he needed her most.

  Through the leaf-less trees Chris could see a flash of orange moving slowly.

  A hunter out in the woods, doing the same thing Chris was doing? He thought it foolish he’d be wearing his hunting outfit when the zombies could somehow see you standing out from the snow and trees.

  If it was a hunter it was a bad one, because he wasn’t trying to be quiet. Chris watched as the orange hat and vest moved in and out of sight as it went in the general direction of where Chris had come from.

  If it’s a zombie or a hunter, he isn’t getting near the shelter, Chris thought. He took his time walking through the woods, watching where he stepped and remembering the day in the corn field with Cheryl. She’d been cruel but she’d taught him how to do things. He was grateful. Because of her yelling at him they were still alive.

  Chris angled to cut off the hunter, taking an extra step for every three he saw the other person take. He was still too far out to get a clear look but Chris was thinking more and more it was going to be trouble.

  He caught a glimpse of a rifle aimed at the sky. It couldn’t be a zombie because they didn’t carry weapons. Right?

  Now Chris was really nervous. A hunter or a zombie that could shoot a gun was too much to handle right now. He needed to slink back to the shelter and hide with the girls.