HOOD: A Post Apocalyptic Novel (American Rebirth Series Book 1) (31 page)

She pulled on the straps to the man's military rucksack, tightened it against her shoulders. Her wet palm held tight against the rough grip of the pistol she'd taken from her assailant. The safety was off. She had to be ready. She took a deep breath and broke into a run, wanting to put more distance between her and anyone that could be looking for her.
Where the hell am I going? What direction is this, even?
She took comfort in knowing it was deeper in the woods, which felt farther away from mankind. The intense loneliness of her situation closed in on her, though it was not stronger than her desire to escape.
I don't know where anyone is. I don't have anywhere to go. I don't even know where the hell I am.
She wanted to burn the thoughts away, but they would not relent.
I'm alone. I'm lost. I have nothing. Shut up, just keep running.

Her lungs burned, her stomach yearned for sustenance, her hair caught in her eyelashes, messing up her vision. The harder she pushed her body, the more distant she felt from anyone who might be hunting her. So she did not allow herself to stop.
If that guy came after me, who else will? What would they want with me? It's not like I'm anyone important. When they took me captive at the refugee camp I just figured it was slave trade.

The idea of being someone's slave again sent shivers through her. She wanted to block out the memory of being Leonard's property forever. The sick fuck had killed her family. As hard as she tried to block out those memories, she still had dreams of hunting him down, driving a knife into his chest over and over. And nightmares that he was still alive, and no matter how many times she escaped or what dark corner she hid in, he always found her.

But in that hellish time, she met Hood. She never expected it. Which was part of why she felt the way she did. He had stayed by her. Fought for her. He had believed in her, forgiven her, trusted her. Loved her. She lived in a dark place back then—when she was sent to find Hood and Whiskey, she expected cold cruelty from every survivor she met. But he had not allowed the world to make him numb and heartless. From the first time she met Hood, she felt a way she hadn't since the first time she fell in love as a young girl. She had long tried to deny those thoughts, for fear of the loss that would come with loving someone again only to lose them. But she could not deny them now, now that he was gone.
Stop it. Stop thinking about this. You're just going to make it worse.

Her foot caught on something. She hurtled forward into the tall grass, tumbling over rocks and knobby roots until she came to a stop. She sat up slowly, bruises aching, her palms stung, scraped. Her breath was wild, frantic as she scanned the scene.
What did you think would happen, sprinting headlong in the dark?
She could barely make out the outline of trees, haggard bushes, and wild weeds.
The pistol!
She looked down at her empty palms, then at the ground around her. She crawled around the area, feeling through the tall grass with her hands.
Everyone is gone. You'll never see them again. You have nowhere to go. You're going to die alone, sick and starving, huddled in some abandoned building somewhere.
Her search grew more frenetic, climbing to her feet and crouching over the ground, clawing wildly at a huge spread of ivy.

She stood up straight, trying to discern which way she had come from.
I can't see a god damned thing.
She hung her head, running her hand through her hair gently, leaving it to rest on the back of her neck.
Why is this happening to me? God, tell me, is this hell? Having to live on without a goddamned clue, alone, everyone I love ripped from me?
Her eyes started to sting and blur, tears of self pity wanting to force their way out.
No, I won't.
She took in a deep breath through her nose, calming herself.
Take a second. You're okay. Stop acting like a crazy person. An hour ago you were the Kaiser's captive. Now you are free. That is something of a miracle.
She breathed easier now, taking in the cool, woodland air.

You are free. Do something with that. Hood might still be alive. You might see him again someday. First things first, get the hell away from wherever the Kaiser is.

She pulled off the rucksack, moving to a nearby tree and sitting down. She unstrapped the top, feeling inside. She felt the handle of something and pulled it out. It was a flashlight.
Bingo!
She felt a stack of folded papers tucked inside the bag. At a glance, she could tell that they were maps.
Alright, if I can find a town or a crossroads I might be able to figure out where the hell I am.
She dug into the bag again, pulling out a hunk of stale bread and dried meat wrapped in a cloth. She tore off a chunk of each and chewed them, savoring what she would have easily considered inedible in an earlier life.
Gotta have water in here.
She dug around once more, producing a steel canteen that sloshed as she shook it.
God, yes. Thank you, Mr. assailant. Sorry about the head trauma.
The metallic water tasted like sweet honey, the cool liquid refreshing her parched tongue.

She replaced everything but the flashlight and re-strapped the bag. She stood up straight, like gravity had less pull on her now.
This is not the end. This is just the beginning. You're going to survive. You'll find a way. You'll find other people like you. You'll find. . . You'll find whoever and whatever you're meant to find.
She clicked the flashlight on, pointing the wide beam at the grass that waved gently in the wind, looking almost like it moved of its own accord. She strode forward, feeling something solid move beneath her foot. She lifted it, and beneath her step the black pistol rested on a bed of grass, waiting for her. She smiled, picking it up, looking to see if it had gotten dirt in it.
I heard guns work best when you step on 'em first. Gets them motivated.
It was Hood's words in her head, his dumb joke in his voice.
I miss you. I'm not afraid to say that. I'm not afraid to say I love you, or that I wish you were here beside me.

She turned off the flashlight, letting the darkness envelop her. Better to move unseen in the dark, just a figure in the shadows. Her steps made little sound, and she knew she could stay undetected by anyone who came looking.
Just like old times. No one can find you when you don't want to be found.
She tucked the pistol into her jeans, and pulled her hair behind her ears. She felt her wrist for a hair-tie, where it usually would be. But there hadn't been one there for a long time.
Damn. First thing on my list. Well, second, next to more food.

You're not alone. You're never alone
, the thought struck her, as if coming from somewhere else. She smiled in the dark.
You're never alone.

Chapter 18 – Harper's Ferry

There was an undeniable feeling that everything was the way it was supposed to be. The cool night wind rushed through the jeep as it sped down the moonlit road with Whiskey at the wheel.

Even if nothing was the way they
wanted
it to be.

Taylor and Kerry were alive, the last they knew, but Hood and Whiskey would need an incredible amount of luck and brilliance just to have a chance to see them again.

At least he was with Whiskey, and they would face this together. Hood took comfort in that.
There's no one else I'd rather fight alongside.

Even if these were likely the last days of their lives, Hood envisioned scenarios where everything worked out flawlessly. But he and Whiskey both knew they were looking at incredibly long odds. Neither of them put it to words, but in the long silence, Hood knew they both were thinking about it.

They were deep in the Kaiser's territory. If everything went right, they'd go largely unseen until they got close enough to Greenridge University to even get a shot at springing Taylor. If they got caught on the way, the Kaiser's militants might just execute them rather than dragging their asses back to the University Ian had made into his capital. And as the miles went on, there was a heaviness in his heart. They had found sign of Kerry. Hood knew he would probably never see her again. Chances of finding her were slim. She's too smart to stay near roads.
I wish I had just one more day with you. One more day to just be ourselves, together.

But if Hood put it all out of his mind and stared up at the band of the Milky Way, if he soaked in the explosion of stars that lit up the sky while they hummed down the road in the dark with the headlights off, he could pretend they were back in easier days.

It was amusing to remember the early days of protecting Clearwater as easy. At the time, it had felt terrifying. Even though he’d quickly found he was good at keeping his head level in a fight, he’d been absolutely petrified during the first raids they went on.

With Whiskey's guidance though, they’d carved out a life for the little town, skirmishing with wasters for food and supplies out in the country. It had been a wild, unreal life compared to growing up in civilization. But now, he had warm memories of those days.

An empty expanse of abandoned farmland gave way to a hill covered in trees. This was followed by a river valley with train tracks parallel to the road on one side, and rushing waters that reflected moonlight on the other. Even in the dark of night, it was a gorgeous scene. Whiskey slowed the Jeep down and pulled off near the forest, driving up into a small clearing cut out for electrical wire towers. They parked amidst the trees.

“Where are we?” Hood asked.

“Corner of three states, back when that meant something.”

“Maryland, Virginia. . .West Virginia? It's gotta be.”

“Yep,” Whiskey said, pulling the keys out of the ignition and stepping out of the driver's seat.

Hood climbed out of the passenger side, moving around to the back. Whiskey heaved the electric dirtbike out of the back with a grunt.

“My Goddamned back.” Whiskey snarled. “You mind helping?”

“You didn't even ask, you psychopath!” Hood said. “Use your words. Was your mother a Sphinx?”

Whiskey leaned backwards, his hands on his lower back.

“So, we stopping for the night? What are we doin' here?” Hood asked, looking from the clearing through the words, where the latent electrical towers stood like skeletal metal monoliths in the faint moonlight.

“There's a hill up there that overlooks the whole area. We can camp there. Scope out everything and make our decision where to cross the river in the morning.”

“You've been here before?”

“Yeah.” Whiskey groaned, still stretching.

“Well? What is this place?”

“Come on, you'll see. It's a heck of a view,” Whiskey said with a hint of fatherly enthusiasm. Hood pictured him being a father to Taylor's kid, lifting a little girl onto his shoulders, the little girl wrapping her hands around his forehead as they walked through the woods, while Taylor walked alongside them, wearing the same smile as her daughter. The thought that it might never happen weighed heavy on his heart.

There's still a chance. Fight for it. People died for you to be here. Fight for them. If you feel so goddamned guilty for surviving, then do something great with the life you have left.

Hood grabbed his backpack, tucked the Beretta into his jeans and climbed onto the dirt-bike while Whiskey was still fishing his gear out of the Jeep.

“Oh no. You're sitting on the back.” Whiskey said with a grunt.

“Too late, compadre. This girl is purrin' for me.” Hood patted the chassis of the bike between his legs.

Whiskey rubbed at his forehead. “Fine, whatever. It ain't that far anyway.”

“That line would've been a lot more awesome if I could've revved the engine. Can't really rev up a battery. But I was tryin.”

“Maybe ya should've made some
vroom vroom
noises, then.” Whiskey climbed onto the back of the bike and it sank down considerably.

“Oh yeah, dammit—you're right. I fucked it up.”

He couldn't see his face, but Hood was sure Whiskey was shaking his head.

“Just go. It's up the hill.”

The bike didn't exactly burst into motion, with the two of them on it and the uphill route. But it picked up some speed. Hood wove it between the trees and around the rocky terrain as they climbed upward. After a short trek, the hill leveled to reveal a gray stony overlook, craggy and dotted with shrubs and stubby, tough looking trees fighting through the rock. Whiskey hopped off the back of the bike, and Hood dropped the kickstand and stepped off, looking out over the expanse below.

It truly was a sight, even in the dark.

A great river forked sharply in two around a spit of land where a very small town lay quiet and undisturbed. Two wooden railway bridges diverged on the north side of the river, one wrapping around the south side of the narrow town and the other around the north. The two rivers flowed quietly below, the shimmering water glinting in the moonlight. Stone pillars with rusted metal stubs jutted out of the south river where two other bridges had once stood. On the southern bank of the river that curved around the town was a tree-covered hill, one not as steep as the sheer cliff they stood on.