I knew what I looked like; a freak. The hoodie was thick, and looked bulky from the lightweight Kevlar vest I wore beneath it. I wore black cargo pants which matched the black combat boots that protected my feet. I had a pack attached to my back, since sometimes it was impossible to make it back to the shelter and hiding out was required.
I searched the dead body, and found one handgun which I shoved into one of the many pockets of my pants. I secured the crossbow back on the cord, and pulled the heavy corpse back into the shelved storage room to hide it. I retrieved the arrow from his larynx. “Should have been a nicer guy,” I whispered to the corpse. “Lesson? Don’t be a dickhead, you’ll live longer.”
I liked keeping the odds in my favor, and one was always a good number. I heard footsteps, so I pressed my back to a shelf as I snatched my crossbow from the pull cord, and grabbed a fresh arrow rather than use the one I had pulled from his buddy so the blood wouldn’t muck up my aim. I inhaled slowly, and controlled my heart rate as the man called out for his friend. He continued walking into the dark as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
I guess it was easy to think like that when you preyed on the less fortunate or weaker beings. Once again I auto-cocked the string and slid my arrow in, as I used the scope to aim between the shelves. He was smaller than the first guy, but his eyes were hard and his hands were fisting with irritation.
“You better get your ass out here; don’t think I won’t leave you and keep the girl to myself! Was tired of sharing her with you anyway!” he shouted as I pulled the trigger. I enjoyed the sickening crunch of muscle and tissue as it ripped apart his heart.
I stood up and walked to where he was bleeding out. “And I’m sure she was sick of being shared with the both of you, too,” I snapped and ripped the arrow out of his chest. I’m not into forgiveness or rehabilitation. I have enough on my plate without worrying about those who hurt others.
I walked out to the car, and the moment the woman saw me, she screamed. I rolled my eyes. Overly dramatic much? I walked to the car, shimmying off my pack, and opened the door. I shoved my pack onto the passenger side and slid into the driver’s seat, thanking the powers that be; those idiots had left the keys in the ignition. I could drive this heap and ditch it when I came back for my bike. The woman had been handcuffed to the door of the backseat and was now in full hysterics, probably thinking she’d ended up in the hands of yet another monster, but I didn’t have time to waste right now. If I had to pick between my motorcycle and her…Let’s just say I’d pick the bike. It helped me to protect and feed those in the shelter, and was a necessity. It was a Ducati, which my father had personalized for just about any type of apocalyptic scenario. It had off road tires, and could actually go off road as most four wheelers could. I’d hand painted on the camo-green skulls, and airbrushed the rest of the bigger details onto the gas tank. Needless to say, this bike had both necessity and emotional attachment.
I parked a few feet from the shelter and pulled my mask off to look at her. The moment I did, she stilled.
“You’re a woman!”
“Last time I checked,” I smiled and watched as tears slid from her eyes. “Who were those men?”
“They killed my baby, and shot my husband,” she said before she started her hysterics again.
“Look, I’m sorry for what they did. You’re safe now and they won’t be hurting anyone else ever again. You gotta stop crying so I can explain a few things before I allow you into the shelter.” I gave her a moment, because personally, I couldn’t imagine what she’d been through. “Got it together?” I asked and when she nodded her dark head, I continued. “My family is in there, and some others we found in similar positions as yours. You can stay here, but if you do, you’ll be asked to help. We all work together there and we all help out. No free rides.”
She nodded emphatically. I felt a twinge of regret knowing she’d lost a child.
“We have children here, ones who we found alone, or found with bad people. They need reassurance and love, so you know, love on them, or whatever. They are alone in the world, and depend on us.”
“Were they found with men like…” she couldn’t finish her sentence and I didn’t need her to.
“Some; some we found in homes around here curled up with their parents’ remains. It’s sad either way. Everyone has lost someone from the flu but unlike us, they don’t understand what’s happened. They don’t need to know yet. No good can come from it.”
“You have food and water?” she asked.
“First things first, name?”
“Cathleen,” she whispered.
“I’m Emma. It’s nice to meet you. Wish it had been under better circumstances. Now you need to know one thing, Cathleen, if you fuck with my family or hurt anyone we have promised to protect, I or one of the others in the shelter will kill you. We’ve all sworn to protect those who are in there. You can be one of them. The alternative isn’t something you want to find out about.”
I handed her off to Addy, who met us armed with a trusty pair of bolt cutters, and took off in the car. I made it back to my bike, which was still there, thankfully. I exited the car with mask and hoodie securely back in place, the weight of my pack on my back, and suddenly felt the additional weight of a stare. I looked around but could see nothing. I wasn’t alone, though I was sure of it. I climbed on the bike and did a once over of the area around me. Nothing.
Decision made, I would probably go someplace to hide tonight, rather than take the risk of bringing trouble back to the shelter. I headed up the old river road and released the throttle. If anyone was following me, they wouldn’t be for long. When I reached the river, I climbed off the bike and pulled my crossbow from its resting place on the pack before I moved to the water.
I could still feel the stare on the back of my neck, but that was impossible. I turned and eyed the bushes as a branch snapped. My eyes strained to see into the dark terrain. I could hear something, but it sounded more like a wild animal than a piece of shit human. I reached down and pulled out a flashlight, shining it into the thick brush.
It was hard to see in the dim light through the mask. However, I was not removing it. We’d saved countless women from rape, and worse. Don’t ask what the worse was. It was pretty rank, and just disgusting.
The bushes moved, and I involuntarily stepped backwards. Great, Emma, just friggin’ great! Crossbow in one hand, the flashlight held firmly in the other. If it’s a bad guy, maybe you can club him to death with a crossbow, or better yet, light his way to you! I clicked off the light and brought up the bow, resetting it and glared at the bushes, daring them to move wrong.
Bushes; I was warning bushes, really? Get on the bike, Emma! Choices, shit, choices were overrated. I could see a few here, though.
One: Stand here like a blooming idiot and shoot the bushes.
Two: Get on the bike and pretend I didn’t threaten to murder bushes. Well, in my head I did.
Three: Go into the bushes and search out what had moved and kill it.
I moved toward the bike and lowered the crossbow. Well played bushes, well played. I straddled the bike and started it. Once I secured the crossbow to the bike’s saddlebags, I took off again. I headed back to town. It was safer there because there were a lot more places to hide. I needed to check the fish traps and then make sure they still had bait, but I wasn’t giving away their location to any animals, or friggin’ bushes! It would just have to wait for tomorrow.
In town it was deathly quiet. It was weird sensing the silence. It was one thing to wish for it, but another to hear it. Crickets were the loudest, but on a calm evening, you could hear frogs, birds, and other critters rustling around in the night. Tonight there were only the sounds of crickets and my motorcycle. I climbed off the bike in front of one of the houses I knew needed to be cleared. I had been here earlier today and had to abort what I was doing when I heard that car going through town.
Inside were four bodies. Mr. and Mrs. Jameson, and their once beautiful twins, all of them had died in that house. No one was sure how the Rh Viridae virus had picked its targets, or why it had allowed some of us to live. There was no rhyme or reason to how it selected to kill us. It just did.
I walked into the house and stepped right back out. Yuck. The dead stank! You’d think after all this time I’d be used to it. No such luck! I brought out the coroner’s cream and lifted the mask only far enough to place it on my upper lip and then dropped the mask back into place. I scanned the area as that tingling sensation of being watched came back.
If someone was out there, they were keeping their distance. Which suited me just fine, but it still made me itch to figure it out. I went back inside the house and carried out the twins, one at a time, in a sheet, and just barely managed to keep the tears in my eyes. I’d known this family, and had babysat the twins for extra money on the weekends. I placed them on the wood pile I’d stacked earlier today, and then went back inside for their parents. Mrs. Jameson was easy, but Mr. Jameson had some extra weight which sucked. I got him out, placed him with his family, and looked around the street.