Rise Once More (18 page)

Amy please wake up. For the love of anything holy, just show me a sign that you are ok
Amy lay unresponsive in the backseat of the of the 1977 Corolla. Haus laid his head on her chest to listen for a heartbeat. It was faint, yet strong, the thumps of each heartbeat echoed in his ear.

His ear pulsed with each heart beat, starting off slow, each beat seemingly stronger than the last, he wasn't sure if he was imagining it growing stronger, or was it his imagination giving him false hope.
Was she getting better? Or had he disillusioned himself once again? Looking for positive signs, when there might not have been anything before.
A distinct thump, one he could not have imagined, led the charge.

Amy's hand slapped Haus on his cheek, it was an awkward blow, like a drunken swing at a bar fight. It was her. Amy was alive, and she was fighting. She was pissed off, but that would have to wait. She needed rest. Haus jolted back, watching her flail around almost aimlessly, her arms waving around trying to reach for something, but finding little use.

Haus closed the back door, a feeling of ease starting to enter his mind, and he decided that he should drive for a bit while she came through. Haus sat back in the driver's seat and sped away, the fortress what out of sight now, but he couldn't help but look in the rear view mirror as if at any moment they would be followed.

He saw a road sign up ahead, indicating that the Tennessee border was 107 miles to the south, but the road marker indicated I-75. He knew the interstate would have to be avoided, yet he still needed to get in the general direction of south, and in route to Georgia. He pulled over, and did a hard turn in the middle of the vacant road.

He backtracked a few miles, and then started down a worn out highway. It's paving was in very poor condition, pocked with holes exposing dirt underneath, and snake trails of tar patches every few feet. It looked as if he was driving on a sea of flattened black eels, the chassis of the old car lunged after each bump in the road, the steering wheel vibrating his hands until they felt tingly numb. Like the feeling someone gets after using a chainsaw or other small engine equipment for several hours.

It was late afternoon by his guess, as he looked out at the setting sun, it positioned to his right, and suspended low on the horizon floating among some small wispy like clouds. He directed the car straight ahead of him, keeping the sun to his right, and at least they were heading south. He could navigate this way for a few more hours; at least until the sun went down, then he would just have to guess.

The car was a rusted pile of shit, almost nothing worked, but it didn't matter much as long as the wheels kept turning. The longer he drove the rust bucket, the more he came to appreciate it; it was a relic of a forgone past; small, compact, and thankfully conservative on fuel. Heated leather seats really didn't matter much anymore; the only thing that was important was when to fuel up. Those seats were nice, but you had to fight for your life for a drop of gasoline.

Haus was startled as a warm hand fell upon his shoulder, resting calmly, its delicate touch made him relax. It wasn't the cold hand of the infected, but rather it was Amy, fully awake now, and very confused. “Haus... Where are we?” Amy said in a drug laced stupor.

Chapter Twenty One

Noodlin' in the Dark

Haus continued to drive south, the sun completely faded behind the clouds as he explained their current situation to Amy. He explained the crazy Nazis, his agreement to grant their freedom, and how they were nearing the Tennessee border. He also explained his past, and exactly why the Nazis were so interested in him. Amy was surprised by it all, but had little reason to doubt him.

“
Haus.” Amy said.

“
Yeah?” Haus replied.

“
I'm starving. Can we stop soon?” Amy asked. It was easy for Haus to keep driving forward, his body was running on almost pure adrenaline, and he himself hadn't even thought of food for countless hours. He couldn't even recall the last time he ate as well. Haus pulled the car over at the next cross section of highway, it was a gravel road intersection, and he turned out onto it for a few yards.

He wanted to be sure that the car was out of immediate sight, and then went to the trunk to retrieve some food from the Nazi’s supplies. Amy sat in the back seat when she heard Haus cursing out loud. “Fucking kraut heads! This is what they call food? Just freaking amazing...” Haus stared down at the bags of so called food, shaking his head in disgust after the many mason jars filled with nothing more than sauerkraut.

Haus actually did enjoy sauerkraut, but a little goes along way, and the idea of living off of it made him sick to his stomach. The sun had completely set in the sky, darkness was fast approaching, and he could see the light green flickers of fire flies darting around in the dimming air. Amy exited the vehicle, joining Haus near the trunk, a giggle exited her lips.

Haus shot her a look of disbelief, but it only caused her to burst out loud into laughter. Amy heaved forward, struggling to gain oxygen into her convulsing lungs, with tears streaming down her face. Haus angrily kicked the gravel, spinning around as he quelled his anger.

“I love how you think this is funny! I don't find one damn bit of it funny.” Haus said. Amy was finally able to compose herself, a half-hearted chuckle escaping every few seconds, until she was straight faced once again.

“
You should have been more specific.” Amy said, one again bursting into laughter, this time not nearly as intense. Haus wrinkled his brow and slammed the trunk shut. Haus looked at Amy again; her youthful pale skin cast an orange like glow as it reflected the last of the sun's rays. He looked at her eyes, locked his gaze for a minute, and a fire fly landed on her cheek. She didn't acknowledge its presence as she stood staring back at Haus.

The small insect flashed small pulses of light from its abdomen; the green glow reflected off her eyes, the light bent by the convex shape repeated the image several times. It reminded Haus of watching a firework burst into the dark sky on Independence day. The smell of the warm muggy air had a sickly sweetness to it, a small bead of sweat formed on his forehead as he felt the blood rush to his face.

He hadn't felt like this in years, like he was teleported back to a junior high dance, and he was looking at...
What was her name? I honestly don't know or care.
Haus almost had to remind himself to breathe, his body sending a subtle signal to his brain that the carbon dioxide needed to be expelled sooner rather than later. He exhaled slightly and drew in a large breathe of the night air. Amy was the first to break the silence. “So do want to go knock off a 711 or what?” She said jokingly.

A wide smile streaked across his face that twisted slightly into a devilish grin. “That sounds like a great idea Bonnie.” Haus tossed her a wink as he pretended to tip his hat, he imagined it resting upon his head, a vintage wide-brimmed hat to complete the illusion. Haus opened the passenger door to the Corolla, motioning for Amy to get in. “Ladies first.” He said in a gentlemen-like tone.

Amy blushed a little, dipping slightly in a curtsy, holding her arms out as if she was holding out the corners of a dress. “Sure thing Clyde.” Amy said as she sat down in the passenger seat. Haus quickly closed the door and regained the driver's seat. The car sputtered as he turned the key, and to both of their relief started, and they were once again heading down the road; the headlamps of the car casting shadows as they drove along the old gravel road, both eyes staring out in the darkness for signs of civilization.

***

Ed's Bait and Tackle
. The hand painted sign was illuminated by the cars headlights, as Haus peered inside, while Amy sat in the car, doors locked just in case. It wasn't her idea to lock the doors, it was Haus's, she was a big girl and capable of taking care of herself. She just played along with it; because she thought it was cute he was always trying to protect her.

Haus had that big brother aura about him to her, but lately she has sensed that something about him had changed. His remarks were not nearly as snarky; they had become somewhat softer, as if he saw her more as an equal rather than a little girl. In her mind that was a good thing, she despised be treated like a princess, a child hood working hard on the farm had firmly removed any notions of being treated like royalty.

It was a strange effect that happened to everyone living off the land. The soil packed under finger nails, the smell of grease, and the constant funk of mild body odor. You know, “farmer smell”. It always humbled a person, and after years of the never ending demands of the farm a person is left with not a feeling of entitlement but of indebtedness to the Earth. She was a cruel master, some years a family could barely eat, while others the cup overflowed with massive bounty.

Haus returned to trunk of the car, retrieving the tire iron, and set out smashing the small panes of glass that separated them from the lock. It was not your typical double paned glass door you see at a traditional store, in fact the entire building reminded him of a converted home than a purposely built business. He reached his arm in slowly, avoiding the jagged edges of glass shards, twisting his arm awkwardly until he fumbled the lock free.

  The door swung open with a creek, as the old rusting hinges groaned out, the sound tore at Haus eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. Haus stepped inside the dilapidated structure, only a few feet inside the smell hit him, his face soured in disgust. It wasn't what he was expecting, and he stepped back outside. Coughing a little as he exited the door threshold.

He raised his t shirt to cover his nose, and reentered the store. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for any signs of movement, he made a full circle of the small store front, opening every window along the way. As he approached the northern-most wall, he noticed the smell growing rapidly in intensity that is when he saw a small walkway and a half open door.

He approached the door cautiously, knowing that the source of the smell lay shortly behind that door, and with a little luck he might have the jump on it. Haus noticed the reflection of the cars headlights on the wall, and he looked up to the mirrored anti-theft dome above him. He stopped, reaching up and adjusting it to shine light down the small walkway.

Haus calmed his nerves a bit, firmed his grip on the tire iron, and used it to push open the door. Just as the door began to swing open, the light went dark, and Haus instinctively fell backward. His eyes trying to adjust to the darkness, then just as quickly as it disappeared, the light once again shown down the hallway.

Haus dry heaved as the smell entered his nostrils, his shirt no longer around his nose shielding it from the putrid vile that smothered the building in the scent of decay. He regained his footing, looking into the small room, seeing the source of the smell wasn't a body at all but thousands.

Thousands of small fingerling minnows floated on the surface of their containment tanks, their bodies white in color and bloated, gills flared out with sign above them. Guaranteed
to catch a fish or die trying!

Haus lunged forward and slammed the door shut, holding his breath as he did, and turned to run out of the building. He exhaled quickly, taking in only partial breathes in between dry heaving, trying to keep his stomach down yet getting the oxygen he needed to get out of there. He turned the small corner and rushed for the door only to run head long into a dark shadowing something.

Amy let out a yelp as she crashed to the floor, knocked back by the force of Haus's mad dash for the door. Haus couldn't contain it any longer and vomited all over the wood floor of the bait shop. Amy jumped back up to her feet, realizing what had happened, and fully taking in the smell of the place quickly left Haus behind and ran out into the fresh outdoor air.

Haus walked outside, wiping the slime from his chin and nose; the burn of stomach acid and bile turning his nose into a flaming inferno of pain and sending tears running down his face. He had always despised throwing up, more than others, because it tended to be projectile vomit. Every time it happened he looked like he was expelling some demonic possession, and the following pain of acid in his sinuses made it so unbearable that he tried to suppress the event no matter the cost.

“What was that smell?” Amy asked.

“
Dead fish...” Haus said, as he gagged once again this time successful in keeping in check.

“
Nasty!” Amy said.

“
I managed to open the windows. It should air out pretty soon.” Haus said.

“
Any infected?” Amy asked.

“
I think the place is clear. I didn't see anything until I ran into you. Didn't I tell you to stay in the car?” Haus said.

“
I thought something happened to you. I heard something and I went in to check it out.” Amy said.

Haus began to get angry.
What is so damn hard for her to understand? Just do what I say would ya!
“So what? What if something had happened to me? Better me than you OK!” Haus said angrily.

“
Why is it better if it were you?” Amy asked.

“
You don't get it. Your young and have a worthwhile life ahead of you. Nobody will miss me. Nobody needs me around. Not anymore.” Haus said, his voice trailing off as if he had said too much, or rather he just realized a truth he had refused to acknowledge until now.

“
I need you.” Amy said quietly, her gentle voice sounded sincere as she bit her lip and walked towards Haus. She placed her hand on his shoulder, her head pointed downward, but her eyes were looking up. “I can't make it to Georgia alone. I don't even know where the hell we are going, but I do know I don't want to do it alone. From now on we work as a team. Got it?”

“
Fair enough.” Haus said. The look on Amy's face let him know that this was not a negotiable demand. “Well lets see if there is anything salvageable inside.” Haus said as he walked back into the bait shop. He could feel Amy stare at him as he walked. He knew the words weren't true, he had said them out of anger, the truth was, as much as he hated to admit it. He needed her and he knew she knew that.

Amy found a working flashlight, which allowed them to turn the car off and conserve precious fuel. Haus had glanced down at the gas gauge when he shut the car off. Just a little over half a tank remained but lucky for them that meant the Corolla had a couple hundred miles left before needing to refuel. “Everything in the cooler is spoiled.” Haus said.

“Fine by me. I didn't want to eat worms anyway.” Amy said with a chuckle.

“
Yeah. Not much food to be had in a bait shop.” Haus said.

“
Score!” Amy's voice filled with enthusiasm as she held up a box of fish fry breading. “Some fried catfish would totally hit the spot.” Amy said.

“
Starving to death and catfish is your choice?” Haus said.

“
You betcha. My dad always had a fish fry on Saturday night. The neighbors even came over, it become quite the tradition back home. Everyone used to say that nobody could cook catfish like my pappa.” Amy stopped speaking, her lip quivered as she stared at the box. Memories of her father flooded her brain with happy thoughts, and the smell of frying fish.

Haus walked over to her, scooping her up in a tight embrace, holding her firmly against his chest. “You want catfish? You're gonna have catfish. Even if it takes all night.” He said gently, as she let out a small sob against his shoulder. “We got all the supplies we need here. It is a bait shop after all.”

Amy looked up at Haus; a weak smile crept across her face. “Thank you.” Amy said softly. Amy walked about the shop with a new found vigor, a sense of excitement radiated from her, as she gathered the equipment. Two fishing rods, a net, some hooks, weights, and a festering package of chicken liver. She handed over the items to Haus to place in the car. “What in the hell are you going to do with rotten chicken liver?” Haus asked.

“
Catfish love anything that smells like shit.” Amy said as she continued to search for additional items.

“
Well this should work great then!” Haus said as he held the package out away from his body, barely grasping it with two fingers, as if it contained a highly toxic substance. Amy continued to grab supplies: a canister of propane, an outdoor stove, a cast iron skillet, some vegetable oil, a spatula, paper plates, and plastic utensils.

***

It hadn't taken Amy long to find a body of water that should hold some catfish. Haus was starting to believe she was some kind of fish whisperer; there is no other logical explanation for her weird behavior. The creek that Haus had spotted apparently didn't pass her
sniff test
as she called it. He thought she just wanted to be the one to find the spot first. She had claimed that the clay making up the surrounding soil wasn't the kind catfish liked for making their beds in.