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Authors: Miriam Bell

The Deepest Red (15 page)

BOOK: The Deepest Red
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Connor stares out into the darkness after the young girl. His hand tightens into a fist, whitening his knuckles. I turn to Clover, only to view a tear slide down her cheek. Sorrow and regret line her face making her older. At moments like this it is hard to believe she is only fifteen. I turn away afraid to say a word. I’m not the only one who has lost someone. The red zone is new to me, the infected are new to me, not being sure I’ll make it home safe is new to me. Clover and Connor had been wandering in the red zone for months before they found me. I don’t want to imagine what they may have gone through during that time but a hidden part of me is curious. The part of my mind that replays Tom’s death over and over, asking what could I’ve done to save him. It wishes they would confide in me, tell me the whole truth so I can comfort them as Connor had comfort me. 

When I’m sure the infected are out of hearing range, I gently grab Clover’s hand.

“Was that her, your sister?” I whisper ruefully.

She regards me.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell after a while, being exposed out in the weather changes their appearance a lot.”

She sniffs weakly and Connor appears placing his arm around her. She curls into him much like I did only long minutes before. She looks so small in his arms.

“I don’t think that was her,” he whispers down to her. Clover nods her head and leans into Connor even more. “Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

His face becomes gentle as his calming deep voice soothes us both. He continues. “We’re safe up here for the most part. I’ll keep watch for the rest of the night.”

She doesn’t argue with him only nods her head again as if in a trance. I lean my back up against the wall as I watch Clover try to fall back to sleep.

She struggles with wanting to get comfortable for a bit, then stills after cradling Connor’s hand to her.

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep too,” I say, catching Connor’s eyes with mine. “I won’t be sleeping tonight anyway.”

He studies my face letting a kind smile skim right below the surface.

“I’m good, but thanks though.”

I nod, looking down at my feet. I retreat into myself knowing I won’t be visiting dreamland anytime soon. Images begin to crowd me as I let my brain wander, the face of the mutilated woman’s head falling to the ground, Tom’s lifeless expression, and Dad’s disappointment when I told him I was joining the scouts, all flash before my eyes. The odds of me staying sane after this seems to be against my favor.

Connor reflects my sitting position across the small space, his black boots touching my leg. He gently strokes Clover’s soft blond hair attempting to calm her as she whimpers in her sleep. I begin to hum hoping to control my fear. It ebbs but never fully goes away.
I want to be home.
Connor sits looking at me. After a while, I stare back at him. We don’t talk. We don’t move. We just sit there acknowledging everything and nothing at the same time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When morning finally comes, I’m thankful for the daylight. The fears of my dream are finally left to rest with the sun’s warmth. After our visit from the infected last night I wasn’t able to get much sleep. The images of the infected child, Tom and the white crow mask flashed in front of my eyes all night, but the new day brings other challenges beyond trying to sleep.

I shift my eyes to see Connor sorting through his supply bag. Clover sits beside him doing the same.

“Good morning,” Clover says in a strained voice.

“Hey,” I reply as I sit up and stretch out my back.

Connor looks up at my greeting with a sad smile.

“We have a long day of walking ahead of us,” he says in a gruff tone. “If you’re certain we’re welcomed at the prison, we’re going to need you to lead the way.”

I nod and sweep my braided hair up into my fisherman hat, tucking it away from view.

“I’m certain.”

I straighten my clothes the best I can, wanting to smooth out the wrinkles. The action doesn’t do any good.

“I know the way,” I say. “We need to head north from here and cut west when we reach the old courthouse.” Their eyes hold steady on me. “No problem,” I finish and then wait for Connor’s response.

“Ok then.” His eyes drift to Chevy and then back to me. “We taking the mutt?”

At the same time Clover and I chime in together.

“Yes!”

We grin at each other in comradery.

“Chevy doesn’t want to live alone out here in this horrible place and I don’t want to leave him behind,” Clover says and embraces the fluffy puppy in her arms, giving him a slight squeeze.

Chevy licks her cheek and paws at her shoulder.

“Chevy? Is that what we’re calling the thing now?” Connor lifts his eyebrow in a defiant way. “Fine, but no one carries Chevy,” he continues, emphasizing the puppy’s new name. “We need to be alert. Last night, more infected were underneath the tree house then I thought was in the whole territory.”

He glances at the puppy held firmly in Clover’s arms.

“If the mutt wants to stay he will have to walk like everyone else,” Connor says and pets the side of Chevy’s head as the puppy playfully nips at his fingers.

After our breakfast of dried jerky, we’re on our way. We decide to continue walking in the woods opposite the way of the infected horde. We hike north, weighted down by our supply bags and memories. After seeing so many infected the night before I’m more cautious of my surroundings. Every noise makes me tense. I stop and watch for their rotten bodies to appear out of the never ending trees. Interesting enough, this process is made extremely annoying when there is a small dog prancing around you.

Chevy for the most part keeps up with us. He follows with his tail wagging in the air as he stomps through the leaves and jumps on an unarmed grasshopper. Once in awhile, he lags behind sniffing some strands of grass or a log that has fallen in our path. He doesn’t stay behind long, racing back as soon as we start to fade from his sight. He’s too intelligent to be just any puppy. I begin to think Chevy is the descendant of some kind of special breed, when Connor calls out from behind me.

“Everyone stop.”

I stand alert with my knife out at the ready. I survey the surrounding trees waiting for the trouble I expect is coming, but Chevy isn’t growling. I stand confused as to why we stopped.

“Stay here,” Connor says as he steps away from us.

I watch his careful movements and marvel at the fact he hardly makes a sound, his movements sharp yet graceful. I peer ahead wanting to locate what he’s sneaking up to. There is black liquid surrounding a distorted shape on the ground. I narrow my eyes and realize it is fur with a little speck of white peeking through some of the leaves. My heart fills with apprehension as I pick Chevy up and hold him close to my heart. His little head buries itself into my neck as if knowing what is about to happen.

Connor examines the animal in front of him and straightens his stance. As he walks back to Clover and me, I already know the words he will say.

“We found the mother.” Connor’s eyes sweep over Chevy. “Looks like something killed her, infected, drifter, another animal, I can’t tell,” he says.

I glance up to Connor now standing in front of me.

“I’m going to carry him for a bit till we pass this area. I don’t want him going over there sniffing his mother,” I reply.

A doleful expression crosses Connor’s face.

“Okay, I’m staying with you to keep guard. Clover, lead the way.”

She reaches out and strokes the puppy’s head.

“Poor thing,” she coos to Chevy before turning and walking away.

“You don’t know the way,” I say.

“If I make a wrong turn, speak up.” Clover calls out from in front.

I continue to walk with the fluffy creature in my arms, trying not to glimpse its mother’s rotting body along the path. I realize at that moment that Chevy and I also have a common bond. We are both motherless and living life day by day, not knowing what will happen next.

I walk in silence as Connor strides gracefully along the path way. I can tell he’s slowing his walk to stay beside me but I don’t mention it. His head turns smoothly back and forth watching the trees for any danger. After awhile of calm, Connor speaks up.

“Now is probably a good time to go over a few things with you.” He cuts his eyes to meet mine.

“Sure,” I say stretching out the word.

He takes a breath.

“More than likely we’re going to run into the infected. After last night I don’t think there will be a day we don’t spot at least one.” He lets out the breath he is holding. “When that time comes, I want you to climb into a tree.”

He cuts his eyes over to me again knowing he’s going to get a response. I don’t disappoint.

“What do you mean climb a tree? Are you crazy?” I ask indifferently and make a face.

I turn my attention back to Chevy shaking my head as I pet him. Connor glances around the trees and continues talking without looking at me.

“Clover and I have this deal,” he begins. “When trouble comes she climbs out of the way. If she can get a clear take down, she attacks, if not, she’s out of the way and no one can distract me from doing what I got to do.”

“I’m eighteen years old. You can’t tell me what to do,” I say.

“Yeah and I’m older than you. So what.”

My anger quickens my pace.

“So what?” I question. “I’m not going to run from the infected.”

“Sometimes running is the only way to survive,” he remarks, concern lacing his tone.

“Have you ever ran?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer the question.

“I don’t have to worry about Clover. She understands when to fight and when to run. I’m not sure you do.”

I bite my lip.

“I was trained to be out in the red zone,” I say, defiant.

“And yet you were completely blindsided by an infected.” He lifts his hands in front of his chest. “Don’t get mad. I’m just saying, training is one thing, surviving out here is another.”

“I’ll survive,” I say stroking Chevy’s back. He growls low in his throat. “I have to.”

Connor nods.

“The only thing I’ve witnessed about your training is that you’re quick and you fight dirty.”

A smirk forms on my lips remembering the surprise on his face when my fingers had pressed into his throat.

“What is your point?” I ask.

Connor straightens.

“My point is, I’ll train you if you want.” He steps over a dead tree blocking our path. “I need to continue Clover’s lessons and if you would like to join in you are more than welcomed too.” 

“I’ll never turn down a good training partner,” I say.

He smiles slightly.

“Only stipulation is for now when trouble comes, climb up in a tree and stay.” He glances down at Chevy in my arms. “And for God’s sake leave the dog on the ground, would you?”

His voice raises causing a bird to fly from a nearby branch.

“Shhhh,” I hiss with furrow brows.

He watches the bird fly away.

“Do you want to attract every infected in the area?” I ask pulling ahead. “Keep your voice down,” I scowl.

He stops walking, gently touching my shoulder. I pause, turning to face him. He steps forward, lightly pulling on a stray strand of hair at my nape. His fingers gently slide down the length of the lock, leaving it to rest on my shoulders.

“Sorry,” he whispers to me.

Connor’s beautiful eyes glisten as determination and an emotion I don’t recognize appears on his face.

BOOK: The Deepest Red
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ads

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