The huge drops of rain that have been falling since we left Brookhaven wane in strength. The water loses most of its power and reduces itself to an average sprinkle. I exit out of Coaltown and turn off onto the highway that will take us back home.
Eric is staring out the cracked back glass of the jeep while Kate is slumped over in her seat asleep. Up ahead are a couple croakers that are observing the middle of the road. Some of them are crawling around on the wet asphalt while some shamblers aimlessly follow the noise the croakers are making.
These are probably the ones from this morning. Even though we're only a couple miles from the turn off, they were able to track us this far. Which means these things are slowly adopting a means of tracking vehicles. Yet, the croakers seem confused on what to do next. It's almost like they can't tell where to go next.
I swing wide and weave in between the group of contaminates. The croakers let out a squall and sprint after the jeep. Kate wakes up and grabs her gun while Eric braces his lever action rifle across the tailgate and takes aim at the croakers that are chasing after.
I shift up a gear to build speed and put some distance between us and the croakers. "Leave them be if possible."
"What are those things?" Eric asks as the croakers slowly disappear into the distance.
"Croakers, and they're a pain in the ass." Kate replies as she puts her gun down and closes her eyes.
"Why do some of them glow? I think I saw one with a yellow chest, and another had a yellow neck."
"It's a visible sign not to shoot them there because they'll leak this gas that attracts more of them."
"It can also suffocate you. We've been calling it yellowcake." Kate adds.
"So if the croaker's head or throat is glowing, try and take its legs out. Got it." Eric states.
The gravel road from this morning comes into view. There are a some shamblers standing in the field to the left, but they aren't bothering anybody. They must have heard our gunshots this morning but lost interest once there wasn't anything exciting happening.
The tread marks from where the tires of our vehicle cut into the earth is filled with filthy, brown water. Hopefully the rain has diluted the oil and gas residue the croakers were following this morning. Maybe that's preventing them from effectively tracking us down. It's hard to say though.
I look in the rear-view mirror and try to keep the tail pipe in line with the flooded ruts. That way if the rain is interfering with their tracking abilities, the contaminates won't be able to follow us back to the house. Eric reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of 30-30 shells. He cranks the lever and kicks out three shells. The fourth turn opens the chamber but fails to kick anything out.
"Alright, I got six…seven…eight…nine…nine shells left." He loads the rifle back to capacity and decocks the hammer. Eric reaches around and checks the magazine in his handgun. "Hey Matt, you wouldn't happen to have any 380. would you?"
"I don't think so. All we got back there is 9mm, 556 NATO, some 7.62 and a case of five seven."
"Five seven? Who uses five seven?"
"Apparently the military because that's what we found in a wrecked APC." I answer.
Kate grabs the ammo can of 556. NATO and reloads her magazine. She grabs my rifle and checks the magazine. Kate opens the 7.62, loads three shells and pulls the charging handle back halfway to make sure it's chambered.
"You're reloaded Matt."
"Thanks Kate."
The house is a couple hundred yards away, but I park the jeep within the treeline and kill the engine.
"What are we doing?" Eric asks.
"I'm afraid the croakers are learning how to track, and I don't want one of those things scratching at the door tonight." I reply.
"He thinks they are learning how to adapt. If anything, he's making the walk to and from the house further." Kate sighs.
"What do you mean adapting?" Eric questions as he gets out of the vehicle.
"Because the things were bent over on the ground, and Matt suspects that they're developing some kind of intelligence." Kate adds.
"I'm telling you, these things aren't as dumb as they appear. You seen what they were doing at the gas station earlier."
"What were they doing?"
"The croakers were using the shamblers as shields to get close to these guys at the gas station. They were ducking, weaving and physically pushing the shamblers around to avoid the incoming bullets." I answer Eric's question.
"So, I'm guessing the best option is to try and avoid the croakers as much as possible?"
"It's better to overestimate these things rather than underestimate them. That's the only reason I've survived this long."
Kate knocks on the door, "Hey Jamie! We're back!"
The deadbolt on the door unlatches, and the sound of the jingling brass chain lock rattles. Jamie holds the door open and keeps her shotgun pointed outside the door. "Kate. Matt. How are you?"
Eric holds up his hands as both barrels wonder over in his direction and lock onto his chest, "It's okay Jamie. He's with me." I state.
Jamie lowers her shotgun and locks the door back. Kate slings her backpack off and digs through some of the supplies she collected. Eric nervously eases towards the dinner chair furthest from the living room and sits down. Rebecca is sitting behind the couch and playing with her little stuffed cat.
I sit across from where Eric is and pull the sandwich bags out of my backpack. There are several empty water bottles laying around the trashcan. Perfect. I won't even have to waste any of the pills Adam shoved into my bag. Although he had no idea what he was sticking in my pack.
"Jamie, I'd like you to meet my friend, Eric. He was one of the few that escaped the city with me when all this started." I say as I pour some Tannerite into a sandwich bag and seal it shut.
"Nice to meet you." Jamie says as she stares at the food we have left.
Eric doesn't say a word but gives a half-hearted gesture to acknowledge that he isn't ignoring her. I grab an empty water bottle and carefully fold the bag of tannerite in. This won't be enough to blow someone up like it would in video games or movies, but it will be enough to severely mangle someone. It definitely won't kill someone wearing body armor, but it will be enough to knock them down and leave the person dazed. It's more of an anti-armor, stun arrow.
I run an arrow head throw the mouth of the bottle and tape it shut. The bottle is still a little wobbly, but it's got enough reinforcement that it won't work its way out. Eric takes the initiative and hands me a couple more water bottles.
"Let me guess? Survival manual?"
"Of course. The only reason I'm still here is because of that thing." I reply as I fill another sandwich bag full of tannerite.
"Why exactly did you start reading those things?" Eric asks.
His question brings back some memories. There were several reasons why those survival manuals ended up in my possession. One was because they're just interesting. It reminded me of some of those stories my grandpa would tell me when he was in Vietnam, and that's what piqued my interest in survival tactics.
What really fascinated me was the section about weapons. How people had to forge makeshift traps and explosives in order to even the odds against an overwhelming force. Then there were the hardcore elements such as having to be able to identify eatable plants and licking the dew off leaves for water.
"Mainly because it's interesting, but that wasn't the main reason I got into reading manuals." I open my backpack and pull out the survival guide I've been using as a reference and making notes in.
"You see, my family was on the brink of losing the house because dad, and a bunch of other people who worked for public services were facing budget cuts. The lucky ones like my dad got demoted while the others lost their jobs. People were claiming it was because the city budget couldn't allow it, but we know better."
Eric flips through the book and glances at some of the diagrams on how to identify poisonous plants from nonpoisonous. He grabs a handful of pages and zips around the final chapter.
"Yeah. I think everyone knows that the money collected from the tax hikes and people losing their jobs wasn't for funding schools or improving the roads." Eric says.
"Believe it or not, I had a very pure and innocent outlook on life once."
"Bullshit." Kate jokes.
"Nope. Serious. In fact, I was so innocent I actually believed that if my family ended up losing the house, we could all live off the grid and because I was reading those manuals, I felt like I could be the one that saved my family. That was until I met Blair." I state.
Kate's head snaps in my direction at the very mention of Blair's name. The look on her face doesn't seem like she's enthusiastic about hearing the rest of the story. Kate goes back to cleaning her rifle but is listening much more intently now.
"Because of the debt that kept accumulating, my dad was forced to work a lot of overtime. Despite his efforts, it still wasn't enough. One day when I was walking home after school, Blair asked me if I needed a ride. While we were in the car, Blair said that he knew about our family debt, and those who caused it."
"He told me that not only could I get the money needed to help with the debt, but I could fight back against those who wronged my family. However, I was forbidden from telling anyone. That Friday after school, Blair gave me a bag filled with oxycodone, rohypnol, a couple bottles of rum and an address."
"When I arrived, these guys that looked like they were in college gave me a stack of bills that totaled up to twelve hundred dollars. When I tried to give the money to Blair, he politely declined and said 'consider it a sign on bonus' and that we would alternate. He'd keep seventy percent one deal, then I'd keep seventy percent the next deal. From that moment, I was hooked because Blair never went back on his word."
Rebecca pats Kate on her back, "What's row-hop-null?"
Kate tosses her rifle down on the couch and storms off to the room we slept in last night. I don't say a word as she slams the door shut. The muffled sound of the bed creaking under her weight seeps through the threshold. Jamie sits back in her chair, folds her hands and stares up at the ceiling. Almost like she's contemplating.
Rebecca walks over and sits down beside me, "Matt, what is row-hop-null?"
"It's…very difficult to explain, but the long and short is that it's supposed to be medicine, but people use it to do bad things." I reply.
The shame and humiliation of my life choices set in. The back of my throat aches and swells up like a case of strep throat, and the building pressure in my chest feels like it's about to burst out. Yet, nothing hurts more than seeing Kate upset. Eric and Jamie are trying to find something to say but both are afraid of speaking since there isn't really anything that can be said.
"Have you done bad things Matt?" Rebecca asks.
"Yeah…A lot of bad things. Things I have spent days and nights wishing I could take back."
Rebecca sits her stuffed cat on the table and pets it like an actual animal, "Before we had to run away from the city, mommy used to tell me that everybody makes mistakes. Some worse than others, but regardless, they're mistakes. Row-hop-null sounds like really nasty stuff, but I know you're not a bad person."
"What makes you say that?"
"You feel sad. I can tell because of how quiet you got when Kate threw her gun down. She only throws stuff around and quits what she's doing when she wants to cry."
Rebecca reaches over and uses her thumb to pull my left cheek down. A drop of water rolls out of my eyelid and sticks to her hand. A tear leaks out of her left eye, and her emotions try to overwhelm her. Rebecca fights the urge to cry, but she sniffles and wipes her nose.
"Before dad died, he asked why me and Kate were crying. He reached over and tugged on my left cheek. He said that we were sad, and then he tugged on his right eye. He said that he was proud of me and Kate, and that was a fact because happiness leaks from the right eye and sadness bleeds from the other." Rebecca says.
"I shouldn't be saying anything because it's none of my business, and I'm not telling you what to do, but if I were you, I'd try and apologize." Eric states.
I take a deep breath and try to come up with the words. Although it feels like there's nothing that can be said to help the situation. A random memory of when I went to church with Samantha one Sunday comes to mind. The preacher said that no matter how far you run, or how little you try and negate collateral, your sin will explode regardless, and it will not only hurt you, but those around you.
I silently scoffed at that man, and the congregation at the time because Blair had it engrained into my mind that we weren't hurting anyone other than those asking to be. Blair said that if people want to live decent lives, let them. If they want to destroy their lives, then that's their choice and our service.
Mom, dad and Adam were mad at me all the time, but I failed to see the bigger picture. Although they weren't destroying their own lives, they were still collateral because of my actions. The families of those people I sold to were caught up in my actions despite not being the target.
Blonc…Blonc…
"Hey…Kate?" I knock on the door.
There is no answer. Nor is there any sound coming from the room. I step back and think of what needs to be said and how to phrase it.
"Kate?" Still no answer.
I gulp down some air and clear my throat with a tiny grumble, "Listen…about what I said…what I've done…I could spend this entire time trying to justify my motives or even pass the blame off, but I spent most of my life doing that already. It was stupid of me to believe what I was doing was just, and I know that…my decisions not only affected me, but hurt others in the process. Especially the ones…I really care about. I know you're mad, and you have every right to be, but I hope one day, you'll be able to forgive me."
Absolutely no sound comes from the room. One could hope that things will work themselves out, but the situation feels like it's based around loaded dice and roulette rather than what's going on in the heart. Who am I to complain though? My whole life was nothing but a gamble, and even though I was one of the few winners, I still lost everything.
I wonder back into the living room and sit on the couch. Jamie rocks back and forth in her chair while Eric continues to read from my survival guide. Rebecca walks over and sits down beside me.
"Are you going to be alright?" Jamie asks as she dips out a spoonful of soup and hands it to me.
"Eventually."
Steam bellows of a piece of carrot that's stewing within the brown broth. Jamie dips another spoon in and stirs around. She fishes out a piece of meat with some corn and hands it to Rebecca.
"Oh, I see how it is. Give me the carrot while Rebecca gets the meat." I joke as I dump my spoon into my mouth. The diluted, bitter taste of the carrot sticks to the sides of my mouth as I chew a couple times and swallow.
"Picky, aren't we?" Jamie says with a smug grin. Eric snickers under his breath while Jamie fills a bowl of soup and hands it to Rebecca.
"There's no time to be picky Matt." Rebecca teases as she picks around her bowl and scoops up some carrots and corn.
"I suppose you're right. Does that mean you're going to share with me? Huh? Huh?" I reply as I gently hold onto her spoon. Rebecca giggles as she tugs her spoon away from me and sticks it in her mouth.
"Eric isn't it?" Jamie asks.
"Yeah."
She fills another bowl and holds it out, "Food is ready."
Eric gets his bowl of soup and walks back to where he was sitting. Jamie prepares two bowls and sets them off to the side as she makes herself one. She sits back in her chair and blows into the steamy broth.
"Matt?"
"Yeah Jamie?"
"Take this to Kate and offer to eat with her."
"Why?"
"Because I think you two need to patch things up before they get worse. Besides, food tends to bring people together regardless of the situation."
"Well, if you think it's going to work, then I guess it wouldn't hurt to try."
"That's the spirit." Jamie cheers.
She hands me the bowls of soup and sends me on my way. Jamie is right about trying to patch things up, but Kate hasn't really had time to simmer down. Getting splashed with boiling soup isn't on my to do list. However, the sooner we can put this behind us, the sooner we can focus on what matters, and that's reuniting with my group and heading to Melissa's.
"Hey Kate, I brought you some soup. Jamie just made it, and I thought since you haven't eaten in a while, you might be hungry."
"Leave it at the door."
"Well…I was thinking…."
"Leave it at the door." Kate interrupts.
I sit one of the bowls of soup at the front door and walk off. There's no point in even trying at this point. This is a done deal. Yes, this is something that's been self-inflicted, but I also feel like I deserve a chance at some kind of redemption.
Eric scrapes his spoon across the bowl and takes one final bite. I sit my soup down beside him and grab my battle rifle, "Here Eric. I lost my appetite."
"Where are you going?" Eric asks.
"I'm going to bed." I reply as I turn my flashlight on and head outside.
"Are you seriously going to sleep outside?" Jamie states.
"Yup."
"Come on Matt. It's just a petty argument. It'll be resolved by tomorrow morning." Eric tries to reason with me as I open the back door of the jeep and get in. "It's dangerous out here. So just…come back in. Please…"
"There's only three beds and a couch, and I don't feel like sleeping on the floor tonight."
"Then I'll sleep on the floor! It's the least I could do!"
"You said it yourself, it's just a petty argument. Kate is mad, I'm mad, and we need some time away from one another."
Eric takes a step back and thinks about the statement. He sighs in frustration, but comes to a mutual understanding that I'm right. A little time apart from one another might make both of us realize just how much we really mean to one another.
"Matt?"
"Yeah?"
"Promise me something."
"What is it?"
"When I step out tomorrow morning, the jeep will still be here."
The statement causes anger to flare up within, but it's an understandable statement. What little patience I have left quells the flames building inside my heart.
"It's bad enough I'll never see my father again, but I don't want to wake up and see my brother gone as well."
"I'll still be here. Promise. Go get some sleep Eric. Tomorrow, we'll sit down and discuss what comes next."
"Sure. Goodnight Matt."
"Goodnight Eric."
I shut the door and clear the back seat off. Humid air seeps through the cracked glass and continuously keeps the inside of the vehicle hot enough that a blanket won't be needed to stay warm. I turn my flashlight off and lay down in the seat. There is just enough moonlight to keep the environment from being pitch black.
The sounds of crickets chirping and bullfrogs belching by the ponds sing a natural melody. I tense up and cling to my rifle as a high-pitched howl muffled by the trees rip off in the distance. Several more barks, snarls and whimpers join in. The stress fades away as I put my rifle down and realize that it's just coyotes. It doesn't make it any less terrifying though when they're not the only things out there.
Their aggressive howling joins nature's symphony and produces a familiar tune that takes me back to the days my family and I would go camping. In a strange way, this is kind of like that. Except I'm all alone, and it's even scarier than I remember.
Everything will be alright. Everything will be alright. Think Matt. Think. I jumped the gun and Kate reasonably turned her back. Understandable. Tomorrow will be much better. I will wake up underneath the sun's gentle gaze, Kate and I will be over our little fit. I'll apologize, she'll forgive me, and we'll all head for my house tomorrow. Nothing but good times ahead if I can keep them alive.
A yawn forces its way out of my mouth, and the feeling of drowsiness sets in despite nature's horrific soundtrack playing in the ambient background.
"Goodnight Eric. Goodnight Rebecca. Goodnight Jamie. Goodnight Kate." I whisper as I close my eyes…