Darkest Before Dawn (A Guardian's Diary Book 1) (2 page)

I chose to sit beside Grayson on the couch, and watched the news from there. It was grim, and there was a new reporter now, who was telling us how her co-anchor had become sick, and was now deep inside the quarantined area. The news was getting worse, and when Grayson lifted his head, I could see the worry in his gaze. Grayson and I took more after our mom with our red-blond hair and blue eyes than Dad’s dark brown hair and gray eyes. Some of our nastier neighbors referred to us as the ‘Milk-man’s kid’s’ which didn’t help things growing up, either.

“It’s going to be okay, kid.”

“You can say that, Emma, if it helps you sleep better at night,” Grayson said as he stood and grabbed his Game Boy. “I’m going to my room. Wake me up for dinner, Ems?”

“Sure thing,” I said and watched as he left the room. I shot an irritated look at my dad. “You shouldn’t be playing this with him in here.”

My dad didn’t budge, didn’t turn around or even acknowledge that I’d spoken. He flipped to the next channel, and shook his head as a reporter and his cameraman were wading through long white plastic-looking bags stacked inside of what looked like a tent. I squinted to try and make out what I was seeing past the news ticker at the bottom of the screen that was running statistics of dead in cities like Seattle, Olympia, and Spokane. The reporter reached down with a box cutter, and sliced the bag open.

“Oh my word,” Addy whispered in a horrified tone as a face came into view. There were thick, black-looking lines that had spidery black tendrils fanning through his face where I knew his veins should be. The man had dried blood caked to his nose, eyes, ears, and lips. I didn’t think they could show something like that on TV. Was this reporter trying to pull a ‘Geraldo’ or was he honestly trying to report what was going on?

I wanted to throw up, because I knew what the rest of those bags had inside of them now. They were bodies, hundreds of dead bodies being stored in the ventilated tents because the hospital morgue was too full to take anymore. “Turn it off,” I said, downing my cup of wine without realizing it. I reached for the bottle. “I should be at the clinic.”

“No way! Emma, I agreed to let you get a job there because that knowledge is needed, but no way in hell are you leaving this shelter.”

“You didn’t
let
me do anything! I’m needed there; those people need help!” Panic and despair welled up in me with the need to do
something
to help.

“They won’t make it, and if you go out those doors, Emma, neither will you!” he snapped angrily as his wide eyes turned to me, full of worry.

I sat stunned, but it only lasted briefly as Addy’s sobs sounded from beside me. I wrapped my arms around her tightly and promised her everything would be okay, even though I knew it would never be okay again.

Chapter 2

Present Day

Six months had gone by, and while most of the town’s two thousand plus inhabitants had died, some had survived. Some others had managed to escape town and now lived on its outskirts or deeper in the wooded mountains surrounding us. Some of them we took supplies to since they’d refused to come to the shelter. Newport is a small town that butts up to two other small towns and sits on the border of Idaho. Our town is so small; you could literally walk from Washington to Idaho in less than twenty minutes if you were so inclined to.

My dad had begun the process of burning the dead and had led us around town, showing us what needed to be done as far as cleaning up and foraging for supplies. With the breakdown in services and information, all bodies were burned to prevent the possible spread of the virus or diseases like typhoid. Winter wasn’t too far off and we had to gather as many supplies as we could, especially with the growing numbers in the shelter. Since there were mostly girls in our little group, we’d all trained with him. He also was the one who came up with the idea for us to wear disguises since we’d been privy to a few cases of rape, and other abusive scenes which we’d saved a few women from. We all wore black hoodies with sugar skull masks that hid our hair and features.  The sugar skull masks were a find that we scored on one of our earlier trips to Spokane. We’d found a case of them in an abandoned costume shop and altered the intricate masks to a more masculine version with Sharpies to hide our gender. While we appreciated the protection of the hoodies and masks, it wasn’t very pleasant when the temperature hit 106 in the summertime.

We’d cleaned out the stores and other shops to prevent the goods from being taken out of town. Luckily, a supply train for the stores in town had stopped in Priest River, and no one else had noticed it hidden deep in the thickly wooded area. The only thing we lacked was meat, but that was easily hunted for. Soon after the discovery of the train cars, we’d received increasingly desperate radio distress messages from a group trapped in Montana and my father had left to find and help them make their way here, to the shelter. 

I’d been his second in command and knew how to do everything he did on a daily basis. He’d been gone for almost a month, and with each passing day, I was losing hope. He’d said two weeks at the most, but I knew trekking through the mountains to avoid marauders and lawless men was dangerous. Time kept passing, and he could be hurt, or worse. Dead. I’d refused to acknowledge that thought, but everyone else whispered it when they thought Grayson or I couldn’t hear them.

I knew the possibility of him being alive was slim, but I also knew miracles happened… But did they happen to me? Probably not. Did it mean I should give up on the man who everyone called crazy, who saved us all in the end? Nope.

He was the reason I was out tonight on patrol, looking to help anyone who needed it while protecting the shelter from anyone finding it. He was the smartest man I knew, and had taught us how to survive, which was what I was doing now. Surviving the ‘end of days’ with a pack of pissed off women. We were fortunate that the few other men in the shelter hadn’t decided to go with him, preferring to risk the possible bitch-a-thon that occasionally broke out inside the shelter, to the possibility of death outside of its sanctuary.

I adjusted the mask and hoodie as I made my way through the town. I flexed my gloved hands and waited for a lone car to pass me. It wasn’t like we got much traffic in our remote location; it was just that some of the people that came through here had been pretty bad and it was wise to be wary of any newcomers. When this had begun months ago, we’d thought our biggest problem would be finding food. Wrong; it was the creeps who decided they found lawlessness appealing and made victims of those who had survived the virus.

I’d been watching this car circle around for the last hour; it had three occupants. A woman and two mean-looking men. The woman looked scared and pretty much broken. She had bruises on her face, and scrapes on her lips as if she’d been abused. One of the men kept up a steady stream of verbal abuse at the woman, confirming my suspicion that these two assholes were responsible for her current condition.

Hmm, bow or gun? Bow; it was silent. I needed the element of surprise. Besides, ammo was hard to come by and I could make more arrows. I pulled out the crossbow, which had been attached to my backpack for easy access on a pull cord. I flicked my finger over the button to silently auto-cock the string, and nocked the arrow onto the guide as I peered through the white skeletal mask. I needed to get the guys out of the car and away from the woman. I smiled as one exited the car to enter a darkened store, which was empty; I knew because I had cleaned it out last month.

I slipped into the darkness through the back door, and waited in position, watching through the crossbow scope, for him to shine his light in my direction before I released my arrow. There was stunned shock on his face as he took in my black Misfits hoodie, which matched the skull mask I wore.

“What the fuck?” he asked, and stepped forward. I released the arrow and watched as he hit the ground without another sound other than the thud as he hit the tiled floor.

I knew what I looked like; a freak. The hoodie was thick, and looked bulky from the lightweight Kevlar vest I wore beneath it. I wore black cargo pants which matched the black combat boots that protected my feet. I had a pack attached to my back, since sometimes it was impossible to make it back to the shelter and hiding out was required.

I searched the dead body, and found one handgun which I shoved into one of the many pockets of my pants. I secured the crossbow back on the cord, and pulled the heavy corpse back into the shelved storage room to hide it. I retrieved the arrow from his larynx. “Should have been a nicer guy,” I whispered to the corpse. “Lesson? Don’t be a dickhead, you’ll live longer.”

I liked keeping the odds in my favor, and one was always a good number. I heard footsteps, so I pressed my back to a shelf as I snatched my crossbow from the pull cord, and grabbed a fresh arrow rather than use the one I had pulled from his buddy so the blood wouldn’t muck up my aim. I inhaled slowly, and controlled my heart rate as the man called out for his friend. He continued walking into the dark as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

I guess it was easy to think like that when you preyed on the less fortunate or weaker beings. Once again I auto-cocked the string and slid my arrow in, as I used the scope to aim between the shelves.  He was smaller than the first guy, but his eyes were hard and his hands were fisting with irritation.

“You better get your ass out here; don’t think I won’t leave you and keep the girl to myself! Was tired of sharing her with you anyway!” he shouted as I pulled the trigger. I enjoyed the sickening crunch of muscle and tissue as it ripped apart his heart.

I stood up and walked to where he was bleeding out. “And I’m sure she was sick of being shared with the both of you, too,” I snapped and ripped the arrow out of his chest. I’m not into forgiveness or rehabilitation. I have enough on my plate without worrying about those who hurt others.

I walked out to the car, and the moment the woman saw me, she screamed. I rolled my eyes. Overly dramatic much? I walked to the car, shimmying off my pack, and opened the door. I shoved my pack onto the passenger side and slid into the driver’s seat, thanking the powers that be; those idiots had left the keys in the ignition. I could drive this heap and ditch it when I came back for my bike. The woman had been handcuffed to the door of the backseat and was now in full hysterics, probably thinking she’d ended up in the hands of yet another monster, but I didn’t have time to waste right now. If I had to pick between my motorcycle and her…Let’s just say I’d pick the bike. It helped me to protect and feed those in the shelter, and was a necessity. It was a Ducati, which my father had personalized for just about any type of apocalyptic scenario. It had off road tires, and could actually go off road as most four wheelers could. I’d hand painted on the camo-green skulls, and airbrushed the rest of the bigger details onto the gas tank. Needless to say, this bike had both necessity and emotional attachment.

I parked a few feet from the shelter and pulled my mask off to look at her. The moment I did, she stilled.

“You’re a woman!”

“Last time I checked,” I smiled and watched as tears slid from her eyes. “Who were those men?”

“They killed my baby, and shot my husband,” she said before she started her hysterics again.

“Look, I’m sorry for what they did. You’re safe now and they won’t be hurting anyone else ever again. You gotta stop crying so I can explain a few things before I allow you into the shelter.” I gave her a moment, because personally, I couldn’t imagine what she’d been through. “Got it together?” I asked and when she nodded her dark head, I continued. “My family is in there, and some others we found in similar positions as yours. You can stay here, but if you do, you’ll be asked to help. We all work together there and we all help out. No free rides.”

She nodded emphatically. I felt a twinge of regret knowing she’d lost a child.

“We have children here, ones who we found alone, or found with bad people. They need reassurance and love, so you know, love on them, or whatever. They are alone in the world, and depend on us.”

“Were they found with men like…” she couldn’t finish her sentence and I didn’t need her to.

“Some; some we found in homes around here curled up with their parents’ remains. It’s sad either way. Everyone has lost someone from the flu but unlike us, they don’t understand what’s happened. They don’t need to know yet. No good can come from it.”

“You have food and water?” she asked.

“First things first, name?”

“Cathleen,” she whispered.

“I’m Emma. It’s nice to meet you. Wish it had been under better circumstances. Now you need to know one thing, Cathleen, if you fuck with my family or hurt anyone we have promised to protect, I or one of the others in the shelter will kill you. We’ve all sworn to protect those who are in there. You can be one of them. The alternative isn’t something you want to find out about.”

I handed her off to Addy, who met us armed with a trusty pair of bolt cutters, and took off in the car. I made it back to my bike, which was still there, thankfully. I exited the car with mask and hoodie securely back in place, the weight of my pack on my back, and suddenly felt the additional weight of a stare. I looked around but could see nothing. I wasn’t alone, though I was sure of it. I climbed on the bike and did a once over of the area around me. Nothing.

Decision made, I would probably go someplace to hide tonight, rather than take the risk of bringing trouble back to the shelter. I headed up the old river road and released the throttle. If anyone was following me, they wouldn’t be for long. When I reached the river, I climbed off the bike and pulled my crossbow from its resting place on the pack before I moved to the water.

I could still feel the stare on the back of my neck, but that was impossible. I turned and eyed the bushes as a branch snapped. My eyes strained to see into the dark terrain. I could hear something, but it sounded more like a wild animal than a piece of shit human.  I reached down and pulled out a flashlight, shining it into the thick brush.

It was hard to see in the dim light through the mask. However, I was not removing it. We’d saved countless women from rape, and worse. Don’t ask what the worse was. It was pretty rank, and just disgusting.

The bushes moved, and I involuntarily stepped backwards. Great, Emma, just friggin’ great! Crossbow in one hand, the flashlight held firmly in the other. If it’s a bad guy, maybe you can club him to death with a crossbow, or better yet, light his way to you! I clicked off the light and brought up the bow, resetting it and glared at the bushes, daring them to move wrong.

Bushes; I was warning bushes, really? Get on the bike, Emma! Choices, shit, choices were overrated. I could see a few here, though.

One: Stand here like a blooming idiot and shoot the bushes.

Two: Get on the bike and pretend I didn’t threaten to murder bushes. Well, in my head I did.

Three: Go into the bushes and search out what had moved and kill it.

I moved toward the bike and lowered the crossbow. Well played bushes, well played. I straddled the bike and started it. Once I secured the crossbow to the bike’s saddlebags, I took off again. I headed back to town. It was safer there because there were a lot more places to hide. I needed to check the fish traps and then make sure they still had bait, but I wasn’t giving away their location to any animals, or friggin’ bushes! It would just have to wait for tomorrow.

In town it was deathly quiet. It was weird sensing the silence. It was one thing to wish for it, but another to hear it. Crickets were the loudest, but on a calm evening, you could hear frogs, birds, and other critters rustling around in the night. Tonight there were only the sounds of crickets and my motorcycle. I climbed off the bike in front of one of the houses I knew needed to be cleared. I had been here earlier today and had to abort what I was doing when I heard that car going through town.

Inside were four bodies. Mr. and Mrs. Jameson, and their once beautiful twins, all of them had died in that house. No one was sure how the Rh Viridae virus had picked its targets, or why it had allowed some of us to live. There was no rhyme or reason to how it selected to kill us. It just did.

I walked into the house and stepped right back out. Yuck. The dead stank! You’d think after all this time I’d be used to it. No such luck! I brought out the coroner’s cream and lifted the mask only far enough to place it on my upper lip and then dropped the mask back into place. I scanned the area as that tingling sensation of being watched came back.

If someone was out there, they were keeping their distance. Which suited me just fine, but it still made me itch to figure it out. I went back inside the house and carried out the twins, one at a time, in a sheet, and just barely managed to keep the tears in my eyes. I’d known this family, and had babysat the twins for extra money on the weekends. I placed them on the wood pile I’d stacked earlier today, and then went back inside for their parents. Mrs. Jameson was easy, but Mr. Jameson had some extra weight which sucked. I got him out, placed him with his family, and looked around the street.

Where was this person hiding? The houses on this block all had dead corpses still inside, which would make it unbearable to sit inside, or hide. Not to mention the diseases that came from the dead, from not being able to bury them correctly. I brought out the fuel and splashed it over the unfortunate family and then got on my knees and said a quick prayer to the heavens that they be accepted with only my humble blessing to send them on.

When I got back up to my feet, I brought out the book of matches, struck one on the cover and tossed it in. The flames leapt to life, and tears fell for the family. They’d been damn good people, and no one had deserved what had happened—no one.

Flames as big as this in the night would be seen a long way off, so it was time to go. I would probably come back with a team of girls tomorrow and finish the next few houses. I turned to head back to my bike, but someone was standing close to it. On instinct, I pulled one of my handguns from its holster and aimed straight for his heart. I couldn’t speak, because I’d give myself away. I tilted my head, and cocked the weapon.

He held up his hands and smiled. “Now, now, little boy. I come in peace.”

As if.
Boy!
I lifted my brow even though he couldn’t see it. He had long blondish-brown hair which was pulled back into a ponytail which gave him a ‘Huntsman’ look. His eyes and skin tone were hard to make out in the moonlight and the shadows flickering off the bonfire behind me; it was creating an enchanted feeling inside of me.

He scanned me briefly before he spoke and it felt as if his eyes were looking right through my disguise and straight into my soul. I shivered briefly before narrowing my eyes beneath the mask. It was impossible for him to see me, or determine anything else with the baggy clothes I wore.

“Do you speak?” he asked, and I shook my head. “No?”

I didn’t bother to move the second time, minus lining up and adjusting the gun sights better. The more he spoke, the more noticeable his faint accent became. I couldn’t quite place it, but it sure wasn’t from around here.

“A mute, then?”

Man, he was thick!

“Okay, I’ll play. This town, how many people are left?”

He stepped closer, and I stepped back and the heat of the fire grew hot against the clothes I wore. He moved around until he was able to lean against the house.

“Use your fingers, I’ll count.”

I held up my middle one.