The Deepest Red (10 page)

“I bet he has been sitting there watching us as we walked passed.”

Tightening his arm’s grip, he glances back for my response. I ease out of his arms, regretting the loss of his warmth. An expression that I don’t recognize passes over Connor’s face but he lets me go without comment.

“I don’t see a mother anywhere. What do you think happened to her?” I ask and begin to walk slowly toward the furry pup. “Hey there, sweetie. You want to come to me?”

I hear Connor shift behind me.

“Does he have foam around his mouth?”

I focus on his cute little face.

“No, he seems healthy. He’s so fluffy, I can’t tell if he is skinny or not. Bet he’s hungry.”

I carefully reach around to my supply bag and pull out a piece of dried jerky.

The puppy watches me cautiously, his head bowed. I marvel at his beautiful blue eye and the other’s deep brown.

“Be ready. If he runs I want to catch him,” I say as the dog takes in every movement I make-waiting to discover how I respond to him.

Once I break the jerky into smaller pieces, I smile as his nose sniffs the air. He looks to be a cross between a golden retriever and an austrian sheppard. My heart leaps at the thought of keeping him.

His cute little button nose leans further forward, sniffing the air violently. The weight of his front body on the small hill causes him to tilt forward. In a flash of feet and fur, the small puppy tumbles down the incline landing with a thump on my feet. Before, I can help myself, I bend down scooping him up in my arms. He’s dazed from the fall but becomes alert when I place the dried jerky to his mouth.

His downy fur gives way, and I feel his fragile body underneath. He seems thin but not unhealthy. His nose continues to sniff my muddy hand as he nips the pieces of jerky from my fingers. His tail pops the side of my waist repeatedly. I giggle at his excitement. I’d read that dogs wag their tails when happy, seeing this precious beast do so only endears him to me more.

“Well, looks like we’ve a new member to our group,” Connor says as he walks up beside me. He lifts his hand and rubs the soft fur of the puppy’s head. “Been awhile since I’ve seen any wild dogs. They usually stay away unless they smell food.”

Connor steps away searching the surrounding woods.

“Never seen one this young without a mother. Something must have happened to her,” he muses. After checking the area a slight smile appears on Connor’s lips. “Cute little thing.”

I smile back up at Connor as I cuddle the puppy against my neck. It squirms a little in my arms.

“I always wanted a dog. I read so much about them back home,” I say.

Connor lifts his hand to pet the puppy again but quickly lets his fingers drop.

“You shouldn’t keep him. He’s a responsibility you don’t need right now, He’ll only slow you down, and if an infected attacks…” his voice trails off as he looks down onto my pouting face. I watch as his sad smile forms. “Okay, I’ve got a feeling I couldn’t stop you from keeping the thing anyway.” His voice is low but gentle. “Let’s go. Clover is probably far ahead and we need to catch up.” He glances over my shoulder. “I want to set up the campsite before evening so we can hunt and get cleaned up in the daylight.”

Connor places his hand on my lower back, guiding me in front of him. The touch sends a tickle of heat racing up my spine. Ignoring it, I position the puppy in my arms and continue to feed him jerky as we hurry to catch up to Clover. Her path is easy to find. A pine cone sits at attention every other tree. I roll my eyes at the sarcastic implication as snickering resonates from behind me. I set myself at a light jog, cradling my new fluffy friend. He whines a little at first but then settles in for the ride.

“I might name him jerky,” I say in a breathy voice.

“Please don’t,” is all I hear in response.

Chapter Six

By the time we finally reach the treehouse, the small puppy in my arms had become a heavy weight. My muscles strain from carrying him the whole way. It was worth it though. The dog wouldn’t have been able to keep up with us any other way and I really wanted to keep him.

I don’t know if it is the fact I’m far away from home, the fact I left home with my Dad not speaking to me or the sudden death of Tom that has my body falling to the ground in exhaustion. The puppy pounces from my arms landing beside me on all fours. His excitement is back as he takes in the idea of me being on the ground at his level.

I stretch my body out on the dirt underneath the live oak trees and gaze at the leaves. I take relief knowing that I’m at a location I can rest but my body gives me constant grief. My legs are stiff and my lungs hurt. Puppy takes advantage of this opportunity to slam his body into my side, his tail flapping in the air. His head burrows up my torso not finding purchase and then in frustration he jumps onto my stomach. Running up my body he comes to rest on the length of my chest, his paws on each side of my face, attacking me with his horrible breath and gritty tongue.

I try to turn my head back and forth to escape his assault but it is no use I’m laughing too hard to make any real attempt. The heaviness in my heart lightens with the comfort of this little beast. I don’t regret the decision to bring him with me. Tessa, I’m sure, is going to love him.

“Don’t let that thing lick you in the face,” Connor chastises and leans in over me, looking down at my current situation. “No telling what kind of diseases the little mutt has? At least bathe him first.”

He turns away from me and I hear the sound of his supply bag hitting the hard ground. I put my hand up and swat at the dog to stop. With a tiny growl the pup jumps off of me and starts to sniff the ground. I sit up leaning my weight on my back arms and peek at Connor.

“If I didn’t catch anything from being so close to you, I should be fine.”

Connor gives a soft laugh.

“If you want to try again, I can lick your face,” he jokes.

A erotic picture of Connor doing just that enters my mind and to my surprise the idea doesn’t repel me but I won’t be admitting that fact out loud.

“Gross. No thank you. I’ll stick with the mutt.” A grin crosses my face.

“Fine, suit yourself,” he playfully scolds.

From a short distance away, a shrill sounds. Clover’s voice rings out from the creek side.

“Oh look! A puppy…” she bellows.

A small snicker escapes my mouth.

“Keep it down, stupid. Have I taught you nothing?” Connor chides, watching the surrounding trees. “You know, I’m starting to really hate that saying,” Connor mumbles to himself.

I smile and turn to see Clover almost skipping her way toward us. The puppy lays cuddle up in her arms, his tiny tongue reaching out to stroke her cheek.

“This is the cutest little thing,” she says with a smile, bouncing the fluffy critter in her arms. “Where’s its mother?”

Connor looks annoyed.

“Millie spotted the beast out in the woods and decided we needed a mascot. We didn’t find the mother,” he replies.

A beautiful smile spreads across Clovers face. The excitement she had the first day I met her is back with vengeance.

“Okay,” Connor straightens. “Put the dog down. We got some work to do before dark.” He points to the small animal. “Clover, put it down. The thing isn’t going anywhere, we’re feeding the monster now.”

Clover making a face, gently places the puppy on the ground with a huff. Upset to be placed on the dirt the puppy claws at her boots seeking her attention, but soon realizing the exertion is in vain, settles down into a section of nearby leaves.

“Now, I’m going to hunt for something for us to eat tonight. We need firewood, some shrubbery, and some decent size rocks for a fire.” He narrows his sites on Clover. “Did you check for rotted wood and things to repair, like I taught you?”

Clover shifts in her stance.

“Yeah, I did. There are two decayed pieces on the side but the roof is fine and the flooring will hold.” Pointing past my shoulder, Clover says “The main house is up the hill about three quarters of a mile. I haven’t checked it out just saw it from afar.”

Connor follows her hand and nods in agreement.

“I’ll check the house out while I’m gone.” His gaze finds me. “I’ll see you soon.”

Then he’s gone. My body protests as I make myself stand from the ground. Connor was right. We had things to do before we could finally get some rest. I double check my weapon making sure the knife is secure and begin gathering firewood. When I grip a small stone in my hand I imagine the bloody print of before. I take a deep breath.

“I can’t believe you found a puppy.” Clover’s voice breaks me from my daze like status. “I mean, I know wild dogs are in the area but to find one without a momma. That’s just strange.”

I empty out my arms full of broken sticks onto the ground. Looking up at the treehouse, I realize the structure is going to be a tight fit for all three of us. I wouldn’t call the design a treehouse myself. It wasn’t even in a tree. The raised box was more of a boy’s fort, I would say. The old wooden building sat upon four large post reaching about twelve feet into the air. A ladder had been fashioned by placing wooden planks every foot on one of the support post. At the top of that post was a cutout that served as the door. The whole thing was five feet across and ten feet in length and I think that was being generous.

My nerves start to bubble up as I realize I would be in the confined space with Connor. I don’t mind Clover since the idea I must protect her has lodged itself inside of my brain but sleep won’t come with Connor so close by. These two people are practically strangers and the situation I met them in was horrible but I’m not aware of any other better options. I hate to admit it but I find myself trusting Connor even though he scares the crap out of me sometimes. I look back to where the puppy is laying down pawing at a few leaves.

“Yeah, it’s strange the momma is nowhere to be found. Maybe when Connor comes back he’ll tell us he found her, not that I’m giving the puppy back by any means,” I say.

Clover seems to consider.

“You know, Connor isn’t as bad as he seems to be,” she declares with a confident demeanor. With easy swiftness, she bends down and picks up a fallen branch- snapping the stem into pieces.

“I know in the gas station he came off as a kill them and leave them kind of guy but he isn’t. He was only wanting to protect me. This place hasn’t been too kind to us. We’ve had run-ins with drifters mostly. They tend to try to snatch me away from Connor but luckily his dad was a good teacher. They don’t make it far.” Her lips curve into a sneer. “I’m very quick with a blade either way but Connor still worries for me. He’s the only family I got left.”

She’s beside me unloading her findings as I stand a little puzzled.

“Just keep an open mind and heart with him. Okay?” she asks.

I stare at her, my mind racing at what she’s hinting at. Clover tilts her head to the side and smiles at me.

“You know how to make a fire?”

I smile back.

“I do but we won’t have too,” I reply.

I dig into my supply pack for my scouting issued lighter.

“Have you ever used one of these before?”

Her eyes go wide at the small blue lighter in my hand.

“No, I’ve seen them before but all the ones we come across never work,” she says curiously.

“Yeah, the fuel is hard to come by.” I say as I place the lighter back into the supply bag. “At home, we stockpile many rare items. We’ve been scouting in this area for years and any time our scouts find something like this it’s stored away for future use. Not everyone can get a hold of one. I’m not even supposed to use the liquid unless an emergency. My Dad told me when he was young they found cartons of these lighters in a storage room of one of the big department stores. They brought them all back and kept them in the supply rooms of the prison.”

Clover’s eyebrows crease.

“Prison?” she states in a confused tone.

I nod at her.

“I shouldn’t be saying this but I probably won’t ever see my home again.”

I begin constructing a campfire, remembering Tom’s instructions.

“My home is a prison that was located on the outskirts of the abandoned city of Zebulon.” I straighten, picking up a rock. “We’re strict on our supplies. So when I go back I’ll report to them everything in my bag and everything I brought back.”

Clover’s face asks a thousand questions all at once but the only words she speaks aloud are, “A prison, that’s brilliant. I bet you’re completely fenced in for protection against anything out here.” She stares at me in amazement waiting for my answer. I place the rock behind another, circling a pile of snapped branches. “I want one day of peace, one day where I’m not looking over my shoulder.” She glances at the sun letting the glowing rays warm her delicate face. “I couldn’t even imagine,” she says.

A small tear forms at the corner of her eye. The drop slowly releases creating a shallow stream down her pale cheek. She swipes at it quickly as I glance away saying.

“I believe I hate stones.”

Clover gives a doleful grunt.

I know I shouldn’t have told her where the prison is but I don’t think of her as a dangerous enemy. I trust her, I trust them both. All I find in front of me now is a young girl who just wants some peace.

“Maybe once we’ve rest today, I can take you, puppy and Connor back with me. I’m sure they’ll welcome you in.” I pause, admiring my work on the campfire. Now I only need the fire. “You wouldn’t be the first people to stumble onto our community,” I say pulling out my lighter. “Plus, you have information about the outside world. They’re going to need to know everything about these infected.”

Clover’s eyes become a shining shimmer of jade.

“I would like that, very much,” she whispers.

From the far left, I hear a tiny bark directed toward us. Clover and I turn to glower at the aggregated puppy. He’s almost blended in with the leaves and pine straw, all but the white band around his neck. I laugh at his attempt to hide and place my lighter beside the unlit campsite.

“Alright slave driver, we’re going. Geez,” Clover says with a laugh.

We spend the next couple of minutes gathering extra firewood and cleaning up the site. The area appears pretty nice in spite of the little hairball wanting to steal anything I place in my hands. The puppy continues to play, running around me and Clover as we work- never wandering off too far.

“We need to name this bouncing fur,” I say when Clover has finished her examination of the tree house ladder.

“I say we name him Captain,” she suggest, pronouncing captain in a goofy accent.

I laugh a little at her idea of a good pet name.

“Nah, I don’t think I’ll be able to call him without giving myself a headache,” I retort.

From the back of my mind, the old photo of my grandmother’s Corvette flashes to the front.

“No, I think I’m going to name him Chevy.”

Clover looks at the dog in thought while stretching her left arm around the front of her body.

“I like it. What’s a Chevy though.” She continues to stretch, knocking some mud off her pale pink dress.