Forsaken World:Coming of Age

FORSAKEN WORLD

COMING OF AGE

Book
Two

THOMAS A WATSON

Copyright © June 15, 2016

THOMAS A WATSON

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Credits

Edited by Amanda Shore

Cover Art by Christian Bentulan

              This book is a work of fiction. People places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the written consent of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Thank you for acknowledging the hard work of this author. If you didn’t purchase this book or it wasn’t purchased for you, please go purchase your own copy now.

Dedication

To my granddaughters, Mia Marie and Katarina Marie. It will be many years before either of you are ever allowed to read this. Love you.

Chapter One

Jennifer bolted up in bed, clutching her chest with a gasp. Feeling her heart pounding but not feeling any blood, she looked around the room and saw Allie and Carrie asleep on the bed across from her. Realizing where she was, Jennifer threw back the covers and put her feet on the floor and her head between her legs, gasping for air as the terror she felt from the dream subsided.

“They would’ve killed us,” she mumbled, closing her eyes after dreaming about the people Lance and Ian shot almost a week before. Knowing it was the right thing to do and living with it were two different things, she was finding out. “I need to talk to the guys and see how they’re dealing with it,” she said and got up.

Jennifer smiled as she walked over to check on the girls, seeing them cuddled together and sleeping soundly. Noticing they had kicked the covers off again, she covered them up and headed for the door. She glanced at the clock as she opened the door and grunted, “I remember a time when I would go to bed at four a.m.”

Jennifer stepped out into the hallway over to the girls’ bathroom. Glancing in the mirror as she walked by the sink, Jennifer saw her hair going everywhere. “Damn, I could scare someone to death,” she said, grabbing a brush and wetting it in one of the sinks.

As she brushed her teeth, she remembered seeing Lance the morning after the shooting just sitting downstairs in the bunker in front of the computer, watching the video of his mom. She could tell he had been crying, but she knew better than to ask about it. Boys were very peculiar about crying or having a girl—or anyone for that matter—know they were crying.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she said, “I played in the mud with them, and they see me as an outsider. I’m barely older than them, but they act like I am in college instead of fifteen. Granted, I’ll be sixteen in a few months,” she said to her reflection then rinsed her mouth out. “Well, Ian does. I don’t think Lance gives a rat’s ass how old I am.”

Wiping her mouth off, she finished up, walked out, and glanced at the “men’s” bathroom, as the boys called it, and saw the door was cracked open. Seeing the “men’s” bedroom door also open, she stepped over and looked in. Like always, it was immaculate and orderly: beds made, floor clear, items in neat rows as if the room was about to undergo a military inspection. It shouldn’t have surprised her; their rooms at home looked the same. The only difference was those held more stuff yet were just as neat and organized.

“It really is like a crime against nature for boys to be this neat and orderly,” she huffed. Turning around, she looked at the U sectional that sat in front of the massive projection screen on the wall. She walked over and didn’t see the boys asleep. For some reason, when they were in their room, they kept the door locked, and for the life of her, Jennifer couldn’t understand why.

Glancing at the kitchen, she saw the coffee pot on with half a pot left. She trotted over with a grin and grabbed a mug, poured herself a cup, then headed downstairs to the basement then into the bunker. The master control computer desk was empty. Jennifer started getting worried as she stepped over and noticed the main forty-inch monitor had a status bar running. It was loading a program.

“What the hell are they doing?” she said, sitting in the chair and watching the status bar as files flicked by. The status bar didn’t have a name. She looked down at the desk to see neat stacks of paper and started flipping through them.

She saw they were printouts of survival message boards, and all were dated before they had shut down the internet connection from the cabin. “Infected really like noise” was highlighted with a marker on one page. A few pages down, she found another highlighted message. “Infected don’t get tired. Can only move at a fast walk but can go much longer than a person. Haven’t heard from anyone that has seen one get tired and stop chasing someone unless they see someone else to attack that is closer.”

“This is Lance,” Jennifer said, pushing the stack away as she sipped her coffee and flipped through another stack from a different message board. Pushing that stack aside, she reached for another and saw the notebook Lance had used to write down what he had observed about the stinkers—or what others called infected.

Opening the notebook, Jennifer shook her head, glancing at the neat, numbered entries. Flipping through the pages as she sipped her coffee, she gulped when she reached the last numbered entry. “Four hundred and twenty-two,” she gasped, leaning over so the coffee from her mouth didn’t hit her legs. “He was only at sixty-four at Doug’s.”

She glanced around. “Where’s Dino?” she said then looked at the monitors. “Where the hell are the boys?”

She searched the dozen computer screens, each one divided into four or six images and showing the fifty-plus cameras around them. She finally saw movement on a screen from one of the cameras over the backyard. Dino, Doug’s huge Mastiff, was walking around. Narrowing her eyes, she looked at another screen and found the boys.

It took her a second to realize what they were doing. “You have got to be shitting me,” she said, getting up. “They are washing that fucking Hummer in the middle of the night.” On the monitor, she could see them with pressure washer wands spraying off the H1 Alpha Hummer.

“They went outside and didn’t even wake anyone,” she huffed and stormed out of the bunker.

She ran upstairs, set her coffee on the table, and eased back to her room. She shoved her feet into her boots and looked at her pants lying on the end of her bed. “Screw it,” she huffed, walking over to the nightstand. She grabbed the lanyard with the massive key for the cabin and put it around her neck. Putting her M4’s sling over her head, Jennifer controlled her breathing as she stepped out of the bedroom. “It better be a good reason for not getting me up to help,” she said, grabbing her coffee.

Pushing the back door open as she held the rifle under her arm, Dino trotted over. Not able to help it, Jennifer smiled as she reached down and patted the massive dog. “Are the boys being stupid?” she asked as Dino looked up with his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

After the door closed, she looked up and was shocked at how bright it was out. Looking up at the full moon and clear, star-filled sky, Jennifer shook her head.
I guess it’s not so crazy to work outside with this much light,
she thought. “They still could’ve woken me up,” she mumbled and walked over toward the ATV shed.

As she went around the RV awning on the west side, she saw them walking around the Hummer, spraying it off beside the ATV shed. Both of them looked like they were wearing rain suits and their NV goggles. She stopped, seeing the front of the Hummer pointed up in the air. “How in the shit did they do that?”

As Jennifer slowly walked over, Ian looked back and saw her in his NV goggles. “That girl needs to put more clothes on,” he grumbled as Jennifer walked over in the sleep shorts and shirt she was wearing when she had run to his house in what seemed like years ago but was just over two weeks.

Letting the trigger go on the pressure washer, Ian turned around. “Hey,” he said, smiling, and flipped his goggles up.

“Why are you and Lance washing the Hummer at night?”

“It needed doing,” Ian said, turning around. “If we have to use it again, it needs to be somewhat uncontaminated from stinker nut juice.”

Shaking her head, she said, “Lance couldn’t take his ride being dirty, huh?”

“Yep,” Ian said, pressing the trigger on the washer. “In his defense, he’s right. Don’t step in the body parts.”

Furrowing her brow, Jennifer looked down and dropped her coffee mug. “What the fuck?” she gasped, seeing a pile of arms, legs, a rib cage, and other body parts. She eased closer and saw a skull that had a stab wound between the eyes. “Is that a head?”

“Yeah, found it in the rear wheel well,” Ian said. “Dino’s pissed because we won’t let him play with them.”

“It was
alive
?” she asked, not knowing how else to phrase it.

“Hell yeah, pissed Lance off big time. He said he doesn’t give rides to shit heads. Grass, gas, or ass, nobody rides for free. Man code rule,” Ian said, walking around the Hummer as he sprayed. “We played a game of soccer with the head until Dino snatched it and took off running. We had to chase him down to take it away and kill it.”

Shaking her head as she walked around the rather large pile of body parts, she mumbled, “You guys can be complete idiots for two that are so smart.” Looking at the front of the Hummer, she saw they had driven it up on some ramps that had to be six feet tall. Lance was standing under the front end and spraying the undercarriage off. “He loves this thing a little too much.”

Stopping, Lance reached up, yanked something out from under the body, and tossed it to the side. It landed in front of her, and Jennifer jumped back, looking at part of a hand. “Oh, that’s so gross,” she said with a shiver.

Seeing movement, Lance stepped out from under the Hummer and lifted his NV goggles up. “Sorry, didn’t know you were there.” He grinned.

Another shiver racked her body as she looked at the disembodied hand. “You two could’ve done this during the day.”

“We have enough shit to do for decades during the day. Now I understand what ‘not enough hours in the day’ really means,” Lance said, walking away and setting down the pressure washer wand. “If we can do something outside before daylight, we need to do it.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Giving a shrug, he said, “There are only two washer wands.”

“You left us inside by ourselves.”

Shaking his head as he walked over, Lance huffed, “It’s not like we left the door open. You were in a cement cabin; you and the girls were fine.”

“I told you I want to be included,” she snapped, stomping her foot. “You two are going to have to start talking to me more and including me in on this shit.”

Seeing Jennifer stomping her foot, Ian laid his wand down. “Wonder what we did to piss her off this time,” he moaned, walking over.

“Um,” Lance said, racking his brain for a response.

“I can’t help if you two don’t include me,” Jennifer snapped.

“We only have two washers,” Lance offered again, hoping it worked this time.

“Uggh,” Jennifer groaned, and Lance stepped back, disappointed his explanation didn’t work again. “So I take it you want me to cook breakfast then and get the ladybugs up?”

“Uh, no. We laid out some bacon to thaw out so we could start breakfast when we were done,” Lance said, and Jennifer’s eyes narrowed, making him step back further. “What? We were going to cook; we weren’t going to ask you to do it.”

“I can do something,” she almost growled. “Shit, you two don’t have to do everything. I’m here also. Hello.”

Not sure what she was saying, Lance replayed the conversation over a few times.

“We were just cleaning the Hummer, Jen; don’t get bent out of shape,” Ian said, stepping beside her.

Spinning around with daggers in her eyes, Jennifer glared at Ian, making him freeze. “You two are going to start including me in your conversations and tasks so I can help. I can be a big help, you know,” she did growl that time. “I can’t learn the shit you two know unless I start working with you.”

Ian looked up at Lance, who shrugged and shook his head. Turning back to Jennifer, Ian asked, “What do you want to talk about and help us with?”

“Urrrg,” Jennifer groaned, stomping her foot and storming off back to the cabin. “I’m part of this team too!”

Watching her walk off, Ian shook his head as Lance walked over. “What the fuck? I asked her what she wanted to talk about and help with,” Ian huffed.

Stopping beside Ian, Lance watched Jennifer unlock the back door and try to yank it closed. “I’m glad that door weighs like half a ton with a hydraulic hinge so she can’t slam it; otherwise, that would be loud as hell.”

“What were we supposed to do?” Ian asked, waving at the cabin. “All she could’ve done was sit and watch us.”

“Maybe that’s how she wanted to help?” Lance offered with a shrug.

“Please, she dropped her coffee when she saw the body parts,” Ian scoffed, pointing at the mug beside the pile. “We talk to her all the time, so what is she getting at?”

“Dude, I don’t speak ‘female,’” Lance huffed. “We include her in everything, so I have no idea what the hell she’s getting at.”

Ian grabbed Lance’s shoulder. “You think it’s her time of the month? I heard women act crazy then.”

Getting worried, Lance glanced at the cabin with trepidation. “Be damned if I’m asking her that,” Lance said, wondering if they should just stay outside.

“She’s part of our team. We have to find out what’s bugging her.”

“Fine, you ask her,” Lance said as he started taking off the rain suit. “You’re the one in love with her.”

“Hey, she’s beautiful, smart, and tough. She’s here, and you have to admit she’s a big help.”

Walking over to the ATV shed, Lance hung up the rain suit. “Not going to deny she’s a huge help, and I’m glad she’s here not only because she’s safe but this would be a lot harder without her here helping,” Lance said, turning around. “But damn, she bitches all the time.”

“Well, go find out why she’s mad,” Ian snapped, hanging up his rain suit.

“Why in the hell do I have to do it?” he huffed. “You’re the one that wants to marry her.”