HOOD: A Post Apocalyptic Novel (American Rebirth Series Book 1) (18 page)

She made no response, engulfed by her thoughts.

“I'll give you a minute. We'll be just up the road.”

Hood headed off to follow Whiskey.
This was some kind of miracle.

His feet carried him on will alone down the road towards the truck, an immense feeling of relief washing over him. Hunger finally started to overtake the nausea.

Sooner or later our luck will run out. I can't hesitate. Too many more of these and we'll all die.
They weren't far from D.C., Whiskey had told him. Behind him, he heard Kerry break into sobs. His heart went out to her. Part of him wanted to turn back, give some sort of comfort to her.
God, I hope to never have to feel what she's feeling right now.
But he did not stop, eyes fixed on the truck.

Chapter 11 – Wasteland

It was like Ground Hog's Day. Whiskey stared out the windshield, a reserved facial expression retaining what must've been a sea of doubts. Kerry sat asleep in between them, and Hood stared out the window as they sped down the overgrown interstate under a muted gray sky, desolate suburbs hiding behind thin veils of trees.

Except this time, everything was different. Kerry had silently wept herself to sleep. Whiskey had accepted her presence. He no longer saw her as a threat. A burden, maybe. But he seemed too calm for the situation at hand; D.C. was just ahead. Hood was a mixture of optimism and anxiety. He couldn’t shake a strange feeling that there was something, some detail that he’d somehow missed along the way.

If everything they knew about D.C. was true, it wasn't a place he wanted to come home to. The city was now a graveyard. Anyone with a half a mind stayed away.

It was strange that the Kaiser would be there. There had to be a reason behind his presence. Was he hiding there to strike out at the Sons of Liberty up north?

None of it mattered, really. They just had to get to the church of the Epiphany. Or so the Sheriff had said. This whole ordeal was hinging on the fact that the Sheriff wasn't lying, or misinformed about where the Kaiser was after the sacking of Clearwater.
Chasing the words of an insane old bastard.

Whiskey pulled the old pickup to a stop. A wall of destroyed cars on the road stretched before them, and it wasn't something they were going to be able to navigate around. Whiskey cursed and threw the truck into park, getting out. Hood got out of the passenger side and blinked his bleary eyes. The moment they’d been closed had felt so good. He wanted to lie down and sleep. The strong winds that blew the dust from the wrecked capitol across the stygian river didn't help.

“How much stuff are we going to bring?” Hood asked, resting his forearms on the roof of the truck. As always, his automatic rifle hung at his side.

“We should stay pretty light. Just food and the necessary tools. Bring the masks, too, and some rope. I'll try to hide the truck somewhere before we go.”

“Do you think we should get a few hours’ sleep before we go?” Kerry suggested, hopping out of the truck.

Whiskey turned around to face her. “No, we shouldn't, because it's already taken forever getting' here. Do you want to take a guess as to why?”

“I'm just saying … maybe sleep for thirty minutes. You guys look like you’re falling down in exhaustion.”

“Just don't go anywhere,” he said, getting in the truck and slamming the door, driving off the road.

Hood looked at her and shrugged. “You sure you want to do this with us? We don't know what exactly we're going up against, here.”

She took two steps and looked up at the muted sky, inhaling deeply. “Yeah. I'm sure.”

“Good. I have one thing to ask you. Consider it a road to redemption, if you care for that sort of thing.”

Kerry worked her mouth. “Okay. . .uh, what is it?”

“If something happens to me and Whiskey, I want you to find my sister. However long it takes, find her. Look out for her. Not that she'll need it.”

“How will I know her? You're going to have to be more specific.”

“Her name is Taylor Huntington. She looks like, well, she looks like the girl version of me. But pretty, brown hair. . . You'll know. She's one of a kind. Tell her I love her--we love her. And that I know she's strong enough to survive.”

Kerry nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Can you promise? I know this is asking a lot.” Hood asked. He felt a bit lighter, just asking. Imagining Taylor captive in the Kaiser's empire for the rest of her life made his chest tighten.

“I promise.”

She stared at him, and he tried not to look at her, instead gazing at the barren rows of headstones that were Arlington Cemetery. It felt strange talking that way, talking as if he was going to be dead. But he needed to say it. She owed them, and this was the best payment she could give.

“I figured there was some reason you guys brought me along.” She looked down at her boots.

“We need all the help we can get. Whiskey knows that.” He climbed up to the roof of one of the ruined vans cluttering the road. “Besides. I know you're not stupid enough to try to fuck us over again. I'd pull the trigger myself if you did.” The George Mason and Williams Bridges ahead of them had both collapsed into the murky Potomac. They'd have to walk north through Arlington to get across.

“I want to help,” Kerry said, “You guys are trying to do something good. It's been a long time since I could say I've done the same.”

“Hey, if helping us eases your conscience, two birds one brick,” Hood said, staring past the river to the ruined city ahead of them. It looked unearthly, seeing so many great buildings reduced to scarred rubble. “Check out the view.”

She climbed up onto the van and stared.

“Wow.” She rested her hand at the base of her neck, taking in the full scope of the fragmented remnants of the city.

“Yeah.”

“It's kinda beautiful,” she said. “If only it weren't so horrifying.”

Hood looked at her.

Her eyes focused on the horizon, like she was searching for the right words.

“It's like the ashes before the rebirth. I can picture what the city might look like hundreds of years from now, overgrown and reborn.”

That would imply that humanity wouldn't be around or able to rebuild it. Hood searched Kerry's face. Her expression wasn't one of resignation, like someone waiting for the end.
Is she just with us out of fear of being alone? Or does she believe we're going to survive?

Even if all went flawlessly and they saved Taylor and Ian and whoever else, what would they do afterwards? Find some remote place and try to live a quiet life all over again, hoping they could hide away from it all?

Hood wondered how long this would go on–if this part of history was the end of history. It seemed that humans and the planet were running a race that only one of them could win. He shook the thought out of his head. He didn't have the time or the energy for the philosophical right now.
Don't get ahead of yourself. There's enough for you to fight in front of you.

He hopped down to the ground and sat on the hood of the ruined van. The suspension creaked, as if it wanted to give out to the meager pull of gravity alone. Kerry slowly came down off the roof and stood next to him, still staring at the city across the river.

“I've never been to D.C.,” Kerry pulled loose hairs out of the corner of her mouth. “Even before the bomb, I'd never been,” she said with a hint of wistfulness.

“I grew up there,” Hood said. “A great city.”

Kerry nodded in agreement. She looked down at the ground, shielding her face from the wind in the collar of her jacket.

“Ground zero is far northwest of the national mall and most of the city.”

“What exactly are we going to do?” Kerry asked.

“Rescue Taylor and Ian from the Kaiser's men. If they're still there. We'll scope it out when we get there and come up with a plan.” Hood sighed. “I just hope they’re okay.”
I really want to know how you got caught up with the Kaiser, Ian. There better be a damn good reason.

Ian saved Taylor's life that day. Hood knew that. Maybe the two of them had already escaped together.
God, I hope so. If only there was some way to know.

Hood bit down hard on his bottom lip, staring down at the cracked road beneath him. He fought off the surge of doubt that followed. He'd never felt further away from everyone he cared about.

She sat down on the car beside him, folding one leg under the other. “Why do you think we survived?”

Hood knew what she meant. He thought the same thing.
Why would I live when so many others died?

“I don't know.”

“When I was young, and I didn't get the job I wanted, or if the guy I liked started dating my friend, I'd just say 'Everything happens for a reason.'”

Hood sniffed a blast of cool salt air blowing off the Potomac. She took a deep breath.
But?

“It feels so stupid looking back on it. From this perspective, it's like saying everyone who died, or had something terrible happen to them deserved it somehow, as if tragedy was their destiny. But I still want to believe it’s true. Maybe we're still alive because there's something we're supposed to do,” she concluded, picking flaking paint off the hood of the car as she stared across the river.

“It's comforting to think like that.”

“What do you think?” she asked, rubbing the paint flakes off her fingertips.

He licked his dry lips and looked up at the clouds, which moved sluggishly. “The way I figure it, I didn't blow up with my city when the bombs dropped, so every day past that one has just been gravy.” He managed a morose smile. “It's all just fuckin' random. It's easy to say we're supposed to be alive, because we are still alive. The dead can't say shit.” Hood scratched behind his ear. “Maybe the real tragedy isn't dying at doomsday but surviving long enough to not know what to do with yourself.”

Kerry let out a thoughtful hmph, hopping off of the car. She strode down the road and looked over at the river. She intertwined her fingers and raised her hands above her head in a feline stretch. Hood watched with an unintentional possessiveness that comes with physical attraction to a girl.
Don't let yourself get pulled in. She's fucked you over once. You might think she's good, but she's only proven she can't be trusted. She's just another body to help you get Taylor and Ian back.
Did he really believe that?

“Why don't you hate me?” she asked finally, turning to see a reaction.
Mind reader.

Hood removed his rifle from his shoulder and laid it across his lap. “Who said I didn't?”

“You open up to everyone you hate?”

“Nah, I guess not,” he rubbed his nose twice.

“You could be dead because of me.” Kerry said. She seemed almost perturbed that Hood didn't outwardly hate her. It didn't match her own guilt.
Well too fuckin' bad.

“Oh, really? Well in that case,” Hood lifted up his rifle and pointed it at her, making gunshot sounds with his mouth.

She froze for a moment, then laughed, moving the hair to one side of her face.

Hood smirked.
Act cute all you want. You've got to prove yourself.
He looked over his shoulder and saw Whiskey walking back, rubbing his neck. Hood stood up, stretching his legs.

“I think I knew, deep down, that there was no hope that my family was still alive,” Kerry said, her face turning solemn. “But I wanted to believe I could save them.”

Hood nodded slowly as Kerry turned to face the river and the broken city.
Don't we all.

♦ ♦ ♦

The hill in front of them was slow and gradual, a worn path between the innumerable white gravestones. They moved quickly and quietly. Whiskey and Hood both scanned the horizon with guns partially raised. Kerry walked ahead of them. Whiskey had decided he wanted to be able to see her at all times. She strode forward, noticeably uncomfortable.

Whiskey refused to let her have a gun, which was unsurprising, given that he had just tried to kill her. The three of them continued down the path towards the bridge. The sun was setting and the Lincoln Memorial was visible past the river.

The reality of coming home hit Hood as they strode softly past the stone obelisks with eagles atop them, onto the Arlington bridge. A number of cars were burned down to the frame, the rims digging into the dusty asphalt. One humvee had smashed through the stone railing and was half hanging off the edge of the bridge. Broken bones and scattered skeletons littered the pavement. Only around half of the black, dormant street lamps still stood upright.

“Okay, I'm willing to admit that I'm scared,” Kerry said aloud.

“There's nothin' left here. The only people we gotta look out for is the Kaiser's men,” Whiskey said calmly, gesturing to keep moving.

It looked like the city he once called home, if it had been thrown through a nightmare. It almost didn't register as reality.
That doesn't matter anymore.
They were so close now. The church of the Epiphany was just northeast of here, if he remembered correctly. His mind conjured memories of his first time at the national mall, staring up at the monuments and wondering what they meant, as he held on to his mother's blue woolen mitten.