The Last Legacy (Season 1): Episodes 1-10 (37 page)

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine.” I lied. It wasn’t fine.
 

The house ahead was shaded by what looked like hundred-year-old beech trees. The building loomed with a tension so vast it felt monumental. My fingertips tickled as I stepped forward alone.

“You stay with Mr. Gavin, okay?” I pulled Marcus into a hug, resisting the urge to cry. Every time I left someone it could be the last. I smiled at him as I turned and walked towards the boathouse.
 

I held my gun up with both hands as I made quiet steps down the hill. Wind blew across the water, making white peaks form across the tops of the waves. The navy blue water looked frigid as a chill crept up my spine. My body broke out in goose bumps as I wrapped my arms around myself.
 

I blew out a breath. I could do this. I needed to do this to protect everyone. I wanted more responsibility; I wanted Jim to take me seriously. And I had to prove that I could handle it. Now that I was up close and personal, the boathouse appeared larger. I walked around the side to a dirt path and found the front door.
 

It was deep red and rickety, swaying with the unrelenting gusts of wind. I kicked the door and then paused outside it, listening for any sort of movement. I sighed when nothing replied. It must’ve been safe. I took one hand off the gun and pulled open the door.
 

Salty, fishy smells came through the door first. My stomach heaved, and I reached up to cover my mouth. There were only small windows, making the house dark despite it being the middle of the day. I pulled a flashlight out of my backpack and clicked it on.
 

My heart violently pounded in my chest. My palms sweat so profusely that I worried the flashlight might slip to the floor. “Hello?” I called out, trying to be quiet yet loud at the same time. I leaned into the house to look for a body, swallowing the lump in my throat.

I stepped just a foot in. A metal rack hung against the far wall. Boxes piled from floor to ceiling. I took another step in. My beam from the light bounced against the floor, my hand jittery with nerves. To my left was an assortment of fishing poles, string, and other fishing paraphernalia. Maybe one of the guys knew how to fish. If the lake had any, we’d be set on protein for a long while.
 

Nothing stood out to me. I walked towards the boxes against the wall, hoping to find some food or supplies or something that could be useful for us down the road. I put the gun in my back pocket and pulled open a box to check what was inside.
 

I heard the groan before I felt the shove. My head bashed against the metal rack as I was pushed from behind. The eater grabbed onto my arm, trying to pull it towards its cracked teeth. My vision spotted as I turned over, the eater hunched over my body. I kicked at the eater’s face to get it away from me. It fell backwards, releasing me, and I scrambled to my knees.

I searched around for something I could use as a weapon. But all there was near me were cardboard boxes. I reached behind my back to grab the gun from my pocket, but I didn’t have enough time. The eater grabbed onto my leg and crawled further onto my calf. I gave up on the gun and kicked him into a nearby box, forcing it to make a loud crash.

The eater was barely phased, coming back after me with what seemed like more anger. Its cry grew louder, its movements sharp. This eater was stronger than me despite the fact that half its skin molded off. Its limbs were bare bones.
 

I kicked it again, shoving its shoulders backwards, and used the second to stand up. I leapt off the floor and sprinted across the room. Somehow the door to outside shut. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the eater only a few feet away. The house wasn’t big enough, and I wouldn’t have enough time to get out without him grabbing me.
 

My stomach churned so hard I thought I might puke. But I held back and tried to focus on killing this thing. I reached into my back pocket, but my gun was missing. Panic welled within me. I looked around frantically, my eyes darting around the room in search of a weapon.

I grabbed onto one of the fishing poles. The eater stood before me, about two feet away. I whacked it in the head with the pole. The eater grunted but otherwise appeared unfazed, his steps not faltering. It continued towards me, moaning like it was in heat. I could barely breathe, fear overwhelming me. My throat closed and dried.
 

I pulled back like I had a baseball bat and hit the thing right at the corner of his temple, shattering its skull. Blood seeped out from its eye socket, dripping onto the ground. In the darkness of the room, I swung the fishing pole again and connected with its body, making it collapse to the ground.
 

I took this as my one chance to kill. I positioned the tip of the fishing pole over what I guessed was the eater’s head and then dug the pole into its skin, hoping that I’d make it through the bone. Pushing with all of my strength, I fell forward as it sunk in, killing the eater with one final jab.

My body broke down as I laid beside the dead eater, staring into its sunken-in, gray eyes that were dead and glassy, red veins jutting out. The flashlight ignited his face as it lay two feet away from me. I crawled through the drips of blood on the floor and grabbed the light, shining it around the room to make sure that there were no more eaters.

My head ached near my temples, pain pulsing. My shoulder throbbed from when I had been shoved into the rack. But despite my ailments, I stood. I was smarter this time as I checked out the room. I peeked outside the door, surveying the road to make sure Marcus and Gavin were unharmed. When I saw them sitting together on the curb, I shut the front door. I grabbed two boxes and dragged them in front to seal it shut so I wouldn’t get ambushed by another eater.
 

I paused and took a breath as I opened one box to see what was inside. Cartons of dry milk were stacked in neat rows. I pulled a few out and saw that there was at least ten white boxes.

It wasn’t water, but it would help a lot. If this was a storage area, there might be more. I stepped on top of a large box and climbed up to the window. I checked to make sure there were no more eaters outside. When I saw it clear, I dragged the boxes away from the door and grabbed my flashlight and gun, hidden behind a large box. I threw my backpack over my shoulder and exited the house.

I had to get rid of the body. I didn’t want Marcus to be frightened by the decaying flesh or the fact that half of a fishing pole jut out of his eye socket. Plus, we’d have to come back in and search through the boxes, and nobody would like the disturbing dead man just lying there on display. It made my stomach churn and I was the one who killed it.
 

I holstered my gun in the waistband of my jeans and pushed open the door, propping it wide with a box. I tried not to look in the eater’s eyes as I grabbed onto his ankles and dragged him.
 

My grip slipped as his weight flopped over to the side. His shoe slid off as my hand collided with his bare flesh. I gagged at the smell of his decaying foot. His skin was so white that for a moment, I thought it was pure bone.
 

I wrinkled my nose and turned away from the body that was half in the hut, half out. Now I was really screwed. Breathing through my mouth alone, I reached down for his pant leg. I didn’t want to touch his flesh again, so I dragged his pants to cover his ankle and then grabbed him.

Only a few more feet, and he’d be out of sight. With each step and pull, his weight seemed to be growing heavier. Maneuvering him around the corner of the house seemed to be the hardest. He just kept slipping, and I lost my grip. I pulled at his ankle to get a better hold. But as I tugged on him, his leg snapped right off, detaching from his body.

I shook my head, unbelieving what had just happened. I looked down at my hand still holding the lower part of a leg with the foot. I didn’t know what to do. I had a fucking leg in my hand! I threw it down on the ground and spun around so I didn’t have to see it. I slammed my eyes shut, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes to erase the image, but the picture engrained in the back of my mind.
 

My stomach emptied as I heaved against the side of the hut, resting my hand against the wall to hold me upright. My entire breakfast was gone, and a hollow feeling took its place. Tears blurred my vision. Without looking at the eater, I kicked it farther and shoved it around with my foot to get it behind, out of sight.

The place where the leg had once been was pure red and gooey. I turned away, not wanting to gag or dry-heave more. I lifted up my gun, readying myself for anything, and walked back to the street. Marcus waved at me while Gavin narrowed his eyes.
 

“It’s all clear,” I told them as I stopped at the bottom of the hill. A few eaters meandered down the road, probably overflow from those that took over Gavin’s house. I fought the urge to run over and kill them just to expel some of my anger. My emotions peaked and dripped.

Marcus ran ahead of us, and Gavin limped his way towards the hut. “What happened to you?” He gestured down at my blood-stained jeans. I only had one clean pair left in my bag, and I made a mental note to change.

“Had to kill an eater.”

“Nothing else?”
 

“Nope.” I faked a smile as I picked up my pace. It was a cruel way to get away from Gavin, but I wasn’t in the mood for chit-chat, or pity or whatever else he’d throw at me.
 

“Whoa!” Marcus yelled from inside the hut. My heart thumped, and I sprinted towards the hut to see what was the matter. When I ran through the doorway, Marcus stood with brown coating his face. He smiled wide, the crevices of his teeth filled.

“What are you doing?” I pulled his arm back so he couldn’t take another bite. He glared up at me with his green eyes but didn’t eat more.
 

“There’s a whole box of chocolate bars. I just ate one of them.”

“What if we don’t find any more? We have to save up food. No more.” I shook my head. “Wrap it up and save it for later.” He bit his thick bottom lip as he covered the chocolate in the wrapper and stuck it in his front pocket.
 

“Why don’t we go through the boxes and organize them while we wait for the others?” I jumped at the sound of Gavin’s voice from the doorway behind me. He stumbled through, shutting it behind him.
 

While Gavin’s head was in the right place, I didn’t want to go through the boxes. I wanted to run to the house and find Jim and Scarlet. I didn’t think I could take another brutal kill, but them being gone made my stomach churn. I worried when Jim wasn’t near me.
 

I bit the cuticle of my nail as Gavin sat on a large box, sifting through a smaller one. I nodded for Marcus to help, and he did.
 

We had gone through all of the boxes. I stood against the high-up window with my forehead pressed against it, watching for any sign that the group was coming back. It was uncomfortable having to hang onto the ledge—the window pressed against the ceiling—so I hopped down and went outside.
 

Marcus and Gavin followed, and I shut the door behind us. I didn’t know where they went, but I pressed my back against the door. The metal bit into the back of my skull, but I ignored it.
 

I needed to see Jim come down that damn hill. I stared at the road, willing and praying that they’d magically appear. I needed him to. I needed him, period. My fingers trembled as I clasped my hands over my lap, trying to pass time.
 

I must have dozed off because I was jolted awake by someone tripping over my legs. I jerked up as Marcus stumbled forward, my ankle bending backwards.
 

“Sorry, Miss Lana,” Marcus said as he crept over me. I rubbed the back of my head as he sat down beside me. I smiled at him, putting my brave mask on.
 

“How are you doing, buddy?” I asked him as I pulled my gun out from behind me. It had dug into my hip while I slept.
 

“I know you said not to, but Gavin said I could. So I ate it.”
 

It took me a moment to figure out what the hell he was talking about.
 

“You ate just one bar?” I cocked my head as I stared at him. His light green eyes met mine, wide and full of question.
 

“Only one. Then I made Mr. Gavin put the box of them on the top shelf so I can’t get them. I didn’t want you to get mad at me.”

“That was very smart of you.” I raised my hand and high-fived him. “The water is so pretty, right?” I wanted to take his mind off the chaos around us. I had to take mine off it since all I could think about was Jim and how he hadn’t returned yet.

“Dad!” Marcus jumped off the ground and sprinted towards the main road. I twisted my head to the side and saw people heading towards us. I tried to count and see if anyone was missing, but they were too far. Without my glasses, I couldn’t tell. With my gun in my hand, I ran to them, unable to swallow down my tears as my emotions skyrocketed.