Red River Blue
Chapter 1
The water felt colder now that a cloud had drifted across the sky and blocked the sun from shining on their backs. Wren could feel her feet sinking a little into the sandy bottom of the creek. Her arms were starting to get tired from the awkward postition she was holding them in. A piece of her blonde hair had come loose and it was tickling her nose. But she held her body perfectly still.
They had let a few smaller fish pass by them. But the one that was heading their way now was much bigger. Wren flicked her eyes towards her sister. The older girl gave her a nod. Not an obvious movement. Just a slight tilt of her head. But it was enough to let Wren know to get ready. This was the one.
The girls held their positions until the fish was almost on top of them. Wren could almost taste the fish already, along with the moisture in the humid georgia air. Rainbow trout wasn't her favorite. But there was no reason to be picky. These days anything was better than an empty belly.
"Now!," Harley hissed. Both girls yanked up on the large section of volleyball net, hoisting the large fish out of the water and into the air. They moved quickly, water pushing up her legs and wetting the legs of Wren's jeans even though she had rolled them up as high as she could. Her sister's pants were still dry. She was older. And taller. No matter how much Wren grew, she felt like she was never going to catch up to Harley, who was so tall now that even Momma had to tilt her head up to look at her.
Harley grabbed her bat and gave the fish a good knock on the head to stop it from flopping about.
"Mom!," Wren yelled. Harley smacked her on the shoulder and told her to shuddup. Wren ought to know better than to be hollering for Momma like a damn toddler. The dead ones were attracted to noise. The girls would kill them if they had to, but it was better to just be quiet and not attract them in the first place.
"Sorry," Wren whispered, her hand over he mouth now. She knew better than to yell like that. Her eyes were wide and alert as she scanned the woods around them to make sure she hadn't attracted any unwanted attention. Sure enough she saw one of the dead heading their way. It was a real nasty looking on too. It's clothes were tattered and one eye was dangling from the socket as it shuffled along.
"Harley," Wren said, yanking on her sister's shirt with the fear sounding plainly in her voice. She pointed at the monster.
"You were tha one that was being loud," Harley told her, "kill it yerself." Couldn't Wren see she was busy gutting this fish. Harley glanced at her sister. Wren was backing up, her bare feet sliding down the incline of the creek. Trying to put some distance between her and the moaming hissing monster that had it's sights set on her. She wasn't paying attention to where she was stepping. Instead Wren was staring at the dead thing like she had never seen one before. She didn't even have her knife out. Wren went to take another step back and found there was nothing but empty air behind her. She fell down into the creek, water splashing everywhere.
Harley wiped at the presperation on her brow and got to her feet. She walked right up to the dumb stumbling thing and stabbed it through the eye, dropping it instantly. Then she hurried back over and fished her sister out of the creek. If anyone was dumb enough to drown in a few feet of water, it was Wren.
"Ya really need to stop acting like such a baby," Harley told the girl after she sat her wet ass down on the grass next to the creek. Even now Wren was looking over at the dead man with big scared eyes, even though it was obvious Harley had already got it in the brain. She acted like a real scare baby sometimes.
Harley waded back into the water, cleaning her knife off carefully before she used it on the fish again. They were going to cook the fish, but she still didn't want to get any dead rotten blood on it. The sound of boots crunching on leaves caught her attention. She gripped the knife tight in her hand, but relaxed once she saw it was only her mother.
"You girls okay?," River asked as she stepped over the dead body. She had heard Wren calling for her. The girls knew not to yell unless something was wrong.
"Wren started up yellin' because we caught a fish," Harley informed her mother. She was hoping her mother would scold the girl, but of course that didn't happen. She knelt down and hugged Wren to her instead.
"How did you get all wet?," she asked. Wren hugged her momma back. She glanced at her sister before she answered.
"I fell down while we were trying to catch the fish," Wren lied. If she told her momma that she fell in because Harley was telling her to kill that dead man herself, Wren knew Harley would get in a lot of trouble. And she didn't want that.
Wren was a terrible liar. As soon as she looked at her sister before she answered, River knew her younger daughter was covering for the older one. But since the girls both seemed fine, and they had managed to catch dinner with a volleyball net, River decided to let it go.
"Come'on," River said, hauling her throughly dampened daughter to her feet, "We kin hang yer clothes out over the fire while we cook the fish."
They walked back to the small campsite they had been using. It was a rough circle of trees surrounded by barbed wire. They had not built it, only happened upon it and decided it looked like a good spot to stay for a few days. The junky camper they had been living in was parked nearby. Pointed out towards the road in case they needed to leave in a hurry. They had slept in it during the winter, huddled together under a pile of blankets. But now that it was warmer out, the inside of it got stuffy and uncomfortably hot in a hurry.
River took the fish, lying it down on the small fold out table they had. She used the back of her knife to get the scales off. There was a large pot of water bubbling over the small fire she had made. Harley moved it off and set it on the ground a few feet away to cool down so they could drink it. Cold water and iced tea. Her most missed luxury items from before the turn. That and her flat iron.
Harely's mother and sister had long soft silky hair that looked good even when they got up in the morning. Harley's was a mess of wiry blonde frizz. Tight fluffy curls that poofed out around her face and tangled up in matts and snarls no matter how many times she combed it.
In her old life, or her before life as Wren liked to call it, Harley had washed and dried her hair once every three days. It took her an hour to straighten it out after it was dry. It was the only was to keep it manageable. Sometimes her mom would help, if she wasn't too busy at the bakery. Her mother was fond of telling her that she got her curls from her father. Just another reason to hate that old drunk bastard, Harley thought as she shoved a random curl out of her face.
River watched her daughters out of the corner of her eye while she got the big fish ready to be cooked. Little Wren had one of her books out. She was lying belly down on her sleeping bag, chewing on the skin on her thumb. Holding the book with her other hand, she was swinging her legs back and forth with the ankles hooked together. The girl was dressed in a pair of dry shorts and a tank top since her clothes were hung up to dry out.
Wren might still be acting like a little girl, but her body was changing. Her hips were getting wider and she was going to need to start wearing a bra soon. River smiled, thinking that meant she would soon have two hormonal teenage girls to deal with. As if the end of the world wasn't enough. Wren would be easy. She had been easy ever since she was born. Harley was another story.
The older girl was sitting sideways in the green camp chair she favored, her long legs hanging over one of the armrests. Even now as she was staring out into the woods with her head resting on her elbow, she had a scowl on her face. River bit back a smile. Harley looked just like her father when she made that face. Not that she would ever tell the girl that. Not unless she didn't want to be spoken to for a week.
"Penny for your thoughts," River said, smoothing her hand down over the girl's wild curls as she passed by.
"Was wondering if we are ever going to find a safe place to stay," Harley said. There was something there in the tone of her voice. Her mother picked up on it right away.
"Got some place particular in mind?," River asked. Harley was the smart one. She had been able to read by the time she was four. Never had to study in school to pass her tests. When she felt the urge to pick up a book, she would devour the entire thing in one day. If Harley had an idea of where to go, River was more than willing to listen.
"When we were walking the creek today," Harley said, "looking for a place to fish, we saw a place. Looked like some kind of jail." Jails were built to keep people in. But they might also be used to keep people out. Dead people. The high fences and gates had stuck in Harley's mind.
"Must be the West Georgia Correctional Facility," River mentioned. She had not realized they were that close to it. But it was the only prison in the area. So that had to be what Harley saw.
"You know it?," Harley asked.
"Yeah, I visited your dad there a few times," River admitted. She had even taken Harley there once. But the girl was too young to remember that.
At the mention of her father, Harley rolled her eyes. River laughed at her. There was no point in holding a grudge against someone that was more than likely dead anyway. She flicked a little water in the pan she had over the fire to make sure it was hot enough. It hissed and sizzled. So she flopped the fish in skin side down. The crispy skin was Harley's favorite part.
"Maybe after lunch we should go check it out?," River suggested. She figured the place was probably overrun or already occupied by another group, but it wouldn't hurt to look. And she figured she ought to offer the girl a peace offering since she had the audacity to mention Harley's father in casual conversation. She swore that girl liked to pretend she didn't even have a father. Like River found her in a cabbage patch or something. Be happy I have bad taste in men, or you would have never been born. Wren was a little more neutral on the subject. But then again she never really knew the man. They had already been long since divorced by the time Wren came along.
With bellies full of fish, the girls crept silently through the woods. Wren stepped on a stick, snapping it. Harley through her a dirty look. So River took the younger girl by the hand and shifted her behind them.
"Step where I step," she whispered. Wren nodded, looking embarrassed. Wren knew she should have been watching where she was walking. She had gotten distracted, trying to peer through the thick trees and get a look at the tall fences on the other side.
The noise brought a walker stumbling towards them. Harley took it down silently with and arrow from her bow. Then she stepped carefully through a pricker patch and took her arrow back. It pulled out with a sickening sucking noise and Harley wiped the thick black blood that was clinging to it off on a bush. She signaled with her other hand. Towards a big tree that was close to the edge of the woods. They could hide behind it and get a good look inside the prison yard.
Once they got close, Rover lifted up the binoculars that were hanging from her neck and took a look though the glasses. At first it was about what she expected. Lots of dead wandering around. But then River spotted something else. She was shocked at what she saw. There were dead all over the place, and a crashed van inside the fences. But in the middle of the wandering herd, there was a woman walking through. With a dead man on a stick.
"Whatdaya see mom?," Wren asked. She was shifting her weight from one foot to the other. River pulled the cord of the binoculars from around her neck and handed the glasses to her younger daughter. She pointed where the girl should look.
"Some lady's in there, with a dead man on a leash," River said. It looked more like one of those things the people from the pound used to catch mean dogs. Like a noose on a stick. She wasn't sure what the right name for it was.
Harley had her own pair of glasses. And she shifted to look at the spot her mom was indicating. There was a woman. She was parading right through a large group of dead cannibals. And they weren't paying her much attention. It was weird. Then Harley looked further up. She saw more people up there. Running around with guns.
"Give mom the binoculars back," Harley told her sister. She nudged the girl with her elbow. It was not a request. There was an urgency in her voice.
"What is it?," River asked her daughter as she fumbled to refocus the glasses after Wren had got done fooling and messing with them.
"Up there, behind the second fence," Harley said. She was pointing with her finger, but had not stopped staring through her binoculars. Not even for one second. "I think I saw Dad."
