The Last Legacy (Season 1): Episodes 1-10 (11 page)

Almost as if reading my thoughts he said, “Next time I’m gluing it to your face.” My breath hitched, and I choked on a laugh. He turned the corner of the stairs, facing me, a wide smirk on his face. I smiled to myself as I hopped the last two steps.
 

He held up his left hand in a stop position and froze. I ran right into his back. The thick walls and small windows blocked the daylight from coming inside, shielding the downstairs in spooky shadows. I peeked over his shoulder and saw what made him stop in his tracks.

At the front door were six or seven eaters. The wood door had a glass window on the top half. They walked into the door repetitively, their hands batting against the windowed part, their knees clashing against the wood.
 

We stepped into the lobby and saw the entire front of the building had glass windows from floor to ceiling. More eaters piled against the side, meandering with no apparent direction. My insides shook and I stepped closer to Jim. The eaters weren’t hitting the windows, yet, but there were so many that I feared we’d be ambushed.
 

“Back exit.” Jim grabbed my hand and led me around the circulation desk. He must have scoped out the area when I was asleep because he led us straight to a janitor exit behind the children’s section. He hid me behind the door as he peeked out.
 

“Good,” he said as he took my hand. He led me out the exit, which was eater-free. Jim squeezed my hand as he took out his knife, holding it in the other. I stayed positioned a little behind him. I let go of his hand so I was ready for anything.
 

I couldn’t remember which way we came in, but it looked similar to our route. Trees lined the back street. I could tell we were on a main road. The library sat on a large plot of land, against the road with black street lamps and inviting wood benches every few feet.
 

White and yellow lines ran up and down the paved main street. The only stoplight was black and lifeless and hung down the center of the road about two buildings down. At the very end of the street was the gas station Jim spoke about, a little speck of hope.
 

It seemed obvious to hike down the center of the street. We’d have options in case eaters came out of buildings. We could run down the alleys to the back roads if need be. It was the faster route by far. But I had a feeling it would get us killed. There were a few eaters shuffling down the street, no purpose or real direction it seemed. One eater sat on a bench, unmoving.

“What’s the matter?” Jim stood with his back too straight, his eyes too wide.

“I’m just debating which way to go.” He stared straight down the road, eyes narrowed. He smacked his lips as if deep in thought.

“The street looks clear, but I feel like if we went down it, we’d be those idiots in a horror movie that die first.” Jim gazed down at me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, tugging me close to him with a small smile. He kissed the top of my head, taking me completely off guard.

Much to my surprise, my initial instinct wasn’t to back off. It was to revel in his comfort. I didn’t know what the gesture meant, only that it seemed so foreign to us both. Jim tightened, his body rigid as if he just realized what he did. I kind of stood in shock, not knowing how to move forward without turning the situation awkward.

“Then we’ll go around,” he said all business-like.

As we ventured around the buildings to a back street, I debated asking him about the display of affection. Did he see me that way? Or did he just want to comfort me? Was it a pity kiss? A sorry-my-brother-almost-raped-you-so-I’m-guilty kiss? I honestly wasn’t sure. But I decided not to question it. I didn’t care to know why he did it. Only that I was okay with it.
 

Every step he took, I had to take two to match his pace. I didn’t want him to let go of my hand so I hurried my steps. My chest constricted, and my breaths sped, every muscle pinched.
 

“Shit.” His arm fell from my shoulders and clutched the rifle that hung over his back. He pulled it over to his chest and nestled the back end into his shoulder.

Instinctively, I reached my hand back and placed it on the handle of the gun. I had never used a gun before in my entire life, but I’d had to hold one before. I had blocked out most of that entire night, but I remembered when my foster dad attacked one of the younger girls, and I had to use it as a threat. I couldn’t remember much other than that. But the feel of the gun was exactly the same.

“The noise will bring more towards us. Only shoot if you have to.” Jim started to step forward but stopped around the side of a brick building. There was a playground behind it, a red tube slide with a tire swing hanging from a low tree. A child sat on the park bench with her back to us.
 

Without thinking, I ran to her. Jim swore behind me. What if she needed help? She was alone like I was and needed someone. Dark brown hair hung over the back of the bench. The girl sat there, not moving. My feet crunched against the wood chips on the ground, and it startled the girl. Her head darted around and snapped towards me when I was only feet away.
 

She had glowing red eyes like an eater, but I didn’t want to believe it to be true. If she’d been left here alone, surely she’d be tired or something. How could a child turn so evil? I refused to believe just from the eye color.

I inched closer to her. She stood, her movements mechanical, and limped towards me. The bottom half of her leg was missing. All that was left was a stump, but she used it to walk, almost like a cane. A sob got caught in my throat as I watched this child move. I stopped and stared, trying to understand the image before me.

She growled, low and seedy. She sounded like a dog in heat, groaning and moaning as she stumbled towards me. Her arm hung out of its socket, the left one lifeless and dead. She could only have been seven or eight when she became infected.
 

I didn’t know if eaters had feelings, but her life was taken. The second the bombs were dropped she was already dead. She only wanted one thing and that was to kill me. But did that make it right for me to kill her?
 

There was no way I could give up the hope that one day this could be reversed. Scientists didn’t go extinct, and maybe right this very second they were trying to find a cure. Any day the fate of our world could change, and then what? Could I live with myself if I killed her?

I felt Jim’s presence behind me. I didn’t want him to kill her. We could leave her and run. The eaters were much slower than us. There was no way she could chase us. She didn’t have to die.

“No!” I yelled as Jim stepped in front of me with his knife raised high. I reached for his arm, but it was too late for the little girl. Jim swung his knife right at her face, and impaled her right between the eyes.
 

It squished as he took the knife out, the sound disturbing—something I’d never be able to erase. I clawed at Jim’s arm as she fell to the ground, her body a mangled mess. Tears clouded my vision, and I fell to my knees crying. Now she had nothing, no hope of coming back.

“Lana…”

“Just stop.” I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I didn’t want to sit here and cry, but I didn’t want to just ignore the fact that a child just died. This wasn’t right. Whoever did this was seriously fucked up because everything had changed. How was this okay? How could we live with this? My soul hurt.

There were no such thing as morals anymore. We had to kill or be killed, and it wasn’t fair that I was being put in this position. I didn’t want to murder her. I knew what Jim did was for the best. Deep down, I knew it. She could’ve gone to the library and been the one to kill us down the line.
 

I got it. But that didn’t make it right. I sniffled and bit the inside of my cheek, trying to get back into the right mind frame. We still had to go to the gas station, and my aching stomach forced me to stand up. The sun dipped behind the two story brick building behind us, and I knew we’d have to hurry.

“Are you okay?” Jim asked, his voice whisper-like.
 

“Let’s just go.” My voice was the opposite of his, shaky, yet loud and strong. I had to hide my emotions, cover them up like a dirty secret. I had to be brave or else Jim would see me as a hindrance. I’d be alone again if I couldn’t get my emotions in check.
 

I began towards the station in the way we were headed. Jim was behind me. I hurried because I didn’t want to see his pity-filled look. I passed a darkened alley, quickly glancing to the side. An eater stumbled out, knocking over a trash can and creating a loud commotion.
 

I knocked the eater backwards away from me and followed him to the ground. His voice was loud, his clothing ripped all over. His white skin appeared skeletal. In one quick motion, I buried my knife in his eye until my hand pressed against his plastic-feeling skin.
 

When I pulled the knife out, blood followed, trickling and creating a pool on the pavement. I wiped the blood from my knife on my knee, stood up, and kept walking.
 

The next eater that attempted to attack us, Jim killed. It was becoming easier for us to move fast and work together. We paused across the street from the gas station and surveyed the situation.
 

“Let me go in first,” Jim said. Four eaters swayed near the second pump. Another three shuffled and punched at a car at pump four. Jim held his hand up, and I crouched down behind a decorative tree on the side of the road.
 

Jim ran across the street. His movements were smooth and lithe despite his large frame. His steps were quiet despite the fact that when he kidnapped me, all I could hear were his heavy boots. He went to pump four first and surprised them.
 

The one closest to him lunged with its arms wide. Jim kicked the eater in the chest. It created a domino-like effect. The eater fell back and hit the other two. They all stumbled back until their backs were against the pump. The handle rattled down, alerting the other eaters at pump two.
 

My heart rattled in my chest as Jim attacked. He knifed the first eater in the head, and it fell fast. He glanced from side to side and lifted the dead eater in front of him. He used it like a shield as the next eater came forward with its long nails and tried to claw at him.
 

I pulled in a heavy breath. I couldn’t sit back and let him kill all of them alone. I had to go help. I refused to live with guilt if something were to happen to him. I grabbed my knife and sprinted across the street.
 

All six of the remaining eaters surrounded Jim. He wouldn’t have stood a chance alone. One eater seemed more separate than the others, so I grabbed him first.
 

I pulled him by the back of his shirt and threw him to the ground. He growled. His head bashed into cement. I stabbed him in the chest, but it did nothing to deter him. I held him down to the ground with my forearm and jabbed him over and over where I suspected his heart to be. But he didn’t even act affected.
 

I delivered the killing blow right through his mouth and out the back of his head. But my knife got lodged in his bone, and I couldn’t get it out. The back of his skull cracked as I pulled his head up, bending over the body. But even with the crack, it held onto my knife good.
 

With one hand, I pushed the head down and pulled at the knife with my other. I had wasted too much time trying to get the knife out. I glanced up, and Jim backed up against a car with two eaters around him.
 

My ass hit the pavement as the knife slipped from my grip. I tumbled backwards onto the dead eater’s body. I scrambled away, kicking my feet against him and ran to Jim, weaponless.
 

With ease that was unwelcome, I pulled an eater away from Jim and threw it into the gas pump. I slammed his head with my fist, punching him. My knuckles erupted in pain, but I punched him again and again. With my last punch, his skull collapsed on itself from the nose inward. My fist mixed with brain and whatever else was inside.

“Damn, Lana.”
 

I froze, scared of what might happen when I removed my hand from the eater. I shut my eyes and let Jim take the lead. I felt the insides of the eater spill onto the ground as Jim removed my hand from his skull. Something got on my shoe, but I refused to open my eyes. With both hands on my shoulders, Jim moved me away, and I walked slowly.

“I can’t see anything, right?”

“We’re at the back entrance to the station.”
 

I opened my eyes and only saw the brick of the building. I knew the dead eaters were on the other side of the building, and I was thankful that Jim brought me here, away from the wreckage.

“I lost my knife.”
 

Jim peeked around, left and right and then behind us to make sure the coast was clear. He took my right hand into his and wrapped it in the bottom of his shirt, wiping it clean.

“Just stay behind me.” His blue eyes focused on one thing only: the door of the station. He stared past me and put my finger in the loop of his jeans. I clung to him like a child on a rope in pre-school.
 

The gas station was quiet. But not an eerie type of quiet. Jim pushed open the door, and we stepped in. A faint beeping near the front windows rang. One window had been smashed, and in its place was an outline of clear, jagged edges. An old clock ticked on the wall by the refrigerators. The sound annoyed me, and it had only been seconds.

Something smashed behind Jim and me. We both whipped our heads around towards it. A scuffle, like shoes against pavement, came from behind a rack of gummy bears and sunflower seeds. Jim stepped towards it, and I followed, hanging on.

“Please, don’t kill me!” A woman with reddish hair stepped out from behind the shelf and stood in front of us. Her hands shot up toward the ceiling and she bowed her head.

The entire world went still—or at least it felt like it. My breathing quieted, and I stared at this woman who was clearly not infected. Jim’s back went rigid. He had to have known she wasn’t a threat. She couldn’t have been more than a hundred and ten pounds wet.