The Withered Series (Book 1): Wither (16 page)

“Goldie,
huh?  And I pegged you for an unconventional sort of girl.”

“Sorry
to disappoint.”  I place my hands back on the grain sack
and prepare to begin again.  After a moment, I turn and find him
still staring at me. “I usually vent in private, if you don’t
mind.”

His
expression is obscured behind his mask but I’d wager he's
grinning.

“Why
do you still wear that thing, anyways?” I wipe my brow clean
with the bottom of my shirt.  The chill morning air nips at my
stomach as I let the material falls back into place.  I switched
out my sweater for a frilly floral shirt when I woke in respect of
Natalia’s final moments.  The instant it was over, I
chucked that shirt in the trash and traded it for a men’s long
sleeve cotton V-neck shirt that is two sizes too large.  I
knotted the material at the base of my back and rolled the sleeves.  

Cable
watches me for a moment as I turn my back on the bag and plant my
hands on my hips. My knuckles sting where the skin has split.  I
can’t help but feel smug as Cable slowly removes the gas mask.
 “Habit, I guess.”

“Still
think this crap is in the air?”

His
broad shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. He uncrosses his legs and
walks toward me, leaving the sun at his back.  I spy large
patches of shadow moving across the field beyond.  The clouds
have begun to move back in.  I can feel a change on the air but
keep my fears to myself.  The last thing I want is to be caught
in a winter storm while on the run, but I gave my word.  One day
and I would leave and never look back.

“I
reckon it won’t make much difference now.” He tosses the
mask aside.

“Why’s
that?”

Cable
hikes his leg and sinks down onto a square bale of hay.  The
whole barn smells of it. That and spilled oil from the relic of a
tractor in the far corner.  He kicks out his leg, his boot
slamming back into the hay.  He rubs his hands together, losing
himself to that inner world that nothing can penetrate, then grabs my
pistol and begins methodically cleaning it.

I
sigh and turn back to the feed bag.  My grunts are the only
sound in the barn for several minutes.  I duck and weave, as if
matching wits with an opponent.  I’m sure Cable knows that
I’m faking most of the moves.  A soldier with any decent
training would see right through my bravado but I can’t just
sit around and wait. I need to prepare.  If what Cable and Eric
said yesterday is true, my life is in danger from far more than this
contamination. What started out as a need to vent has become
something like borderline desperation.

Glancing
over at Cable, I consider asking him to teach me how to use that
pistol, but we have very few weapons as it is and far fewer bullets.
 I notice that he’s laid the gun in his lap and is busy
scratching at his palm.   I squint to look closer,
wondering if he’s picked up a splinter while hunting for
supplies, but when he sees me staring he shoves his hands in his
pockets.  “I’m sorry about Natalia.”

“Me
too.”

“I
uh…” I rub my hand along the back of my neck.  “I
just want you to know that I support your decision to move on.  It
will be good for Eric to say goodbye but not linger.”

Cable
looks around the barn, leaning back to look up into the rafters
overhead.  Tools hang from rusting chain: hoes, shovels, pitch
forks and something that looks like a handheld tiller for a garden.
 “She genuinely cared about people,” he finally says
when he returns his gaze to me.  “Eric most of all.  I
think they could have made it, you know?  A decent couple.”

I
sink down into a crouch and wait for him to continue.  For once
he might actually be in a talking mood.  “Eric knew her
from before all of this. I guess he was kind of sweet on her back
then but she never really had time for stuff like that.  Her
work was her life.  By the time Eric figured that out, it didn’t
matter anymore.”

Grabbing
a handful of hay, he shoves a long strand between his teeth, as if
he’s always done it.  There is a weird familiarity about
the action, making me wonder what Cable was like in a previous life,
before the mutations, before the Marines.  I can’t recall
if he ever told me where he was from. Only that he was from the
South.

“Why
did she help me?”

Cable
leans back, crossing his arms over his chest as he rests his weight
against the wall.  The weathered wood holds firm, despite the
knots and evidence of termite damage near the floor.  “She
was a scientist.  One of the best, according to Eric.  She
spent her life devoted to helping people, to discovering cures to
unspeakable horrors.  You were a piece to a larger puzzle but
she knew if you remained there you wouldn’t be able to help the
world.”

“Help
the world?” I scoff, rolling my eyes.  I sink down onto
the ground, tucking my legs before me.  I dust my hands off on
my pant legs, leaving dirty hand prints behind.  “I’m
just one person.”

Cable’s
expression tightens as he leans forward.  “For all we know
this whole thing started with a single person, a single virus, a
single mutated gene.  Why would you think one person couldn’t
fix it all?”

Blowing
my hair out of my eyes, I shrug.  “Because I’m no
hero.”

“How
do you know?”

I
avert my gaze, focusing intently on the bald tractor tire sitting
beside him instead of his piercing gaze.  “I just do.”

“Hmm.”

I
listen to his steady inhale and exhale, wishing that he would leave.
 He makes me uncomfortable at times.  Usually when he’s
trying to get some deep message across to me.  It’s not
that he lectures me, but it’s pretty darn close to it.

“You
don’t know me,” I whisper, turning my cheek to press it
against my knee.  My muscles ache from training.  My head
feels light and airy. I’ve pushed myself farther than I should
have.  I’m still recovering, but I will go crazy if I do
nothing but wait and pray for a miracle.

My
pleas on the radio have gone unanswered all day.  Last night,
not long after the moon hit its highest peak in the sky, we heard the
choppers fly over.  Their light shining in through the windows
would have woken me if the noise hadn’t.  We’d
planned for that, made sure we hide in interior rooms just in case.
 They couldn’t have seen us from the air, but that won't
stop them from checking all the same.  The question is: how many
other homes do they have to search before ours?

“You’re
a good person, Avery.”

“What
is good?  Helping an old lady across the street?  Giving a
kid a balloon just to see them smile?  Handing out money to a
homeless person who is hungry?”

I
raise my head. “None of those things matter anymore, Cable.
 There is no good left in this world.  Only greed.  Only
murder and evil and nothingness.”

“You’re
wrong.”  He slides off the hay bale and scoots toward me.
 He never breaks eye contact with me as he draws near.  I
can smell the scent of sweat on him, see the sheen on his skin.  He
spent most of the morning helping Eric try to hotwire the old Ford
truck in the yard.  A hose sits near the front of the Humvee
that was used to siphon gas in the hopes that it will work in that
old clunker. He also worked to stash our supplies in bags for us to
carry out of here if we had to leave on foot.  Planned
tirelessly on securing the house, wiping all evidence of our presence
except the Humvee.  Not much we can do about that.  

He
has hardly stopped long enough to close his eyes for a few minutes
since we arrived here. He’s done the work of five people.  I
could never fault him for not caring about our protection.  No.
I’d almost fault him for caring too much. I know where that
path leads and I wouldn’t want that for him.  

Cable
motions with his hand between us.  “You and me, we’re
still good.  We give a shit.”  He points toward my
chest.  “I’ve watched you these past few days and
have witnessed your desperation each time you switch on that radio.
 You risk your own life each day we remain here and for what?”
He ducks his head to meet me in the eye.  “For a friend.”

I
wrap my arms around myself and rock slowly.  “She’s
probably gone.”

“Yeah,”
he nods in agreement.  “She just might be, but you never
gave up hope.”

“I
should never have let myself care.  I’ve spent my whole
life keeping people at arm’s length. It was safer that way.”

“That’s
a hard way to live.”

I
shrug.  “It’s how I survived.”

“And
that?”  He turns to look at the grain bag.  “You
learn that along the way too?”

“Maybe.”

He
stares down at my hands, no doubt noting the bruising and cut skin.
 “I could teach you to shoot.”

“No.”
I shake my head, knowing that I’d only waste precious
ammunition.  Maybe if we come across a pawn shop or gun cache
somewhere then I’d be willing to learn.  “That’s
your thing.”

“So,
what? You think you’re going to pummel them to death?”

I
smirk, laughing at his grim expression. “I’ve learned a
thing or two living on the streets.”

His
mood shifts as he rubs his jaw, his nails grazing another day’s
addition of growth.  “Killing someone, even in
self-defense, isn’t easy, Avery.  Don’t fool
yourself into thinking that it is.”

Cable’s
words fall heavily over me, stealing away the smile that teetered on
my lips.  “Have you done it?”

His
nod is slow and forced.  He refuses to meet my gaze.
 “Seventeen.  That’s my count so far.”

“Before
or after the world fell apart?”

His
adam’s apple bobs.  “Fourteen after.”

I
blow out a breath and lean back.  “And the other three?”

He
shakes his head.  “They were a mission. Nothing more.”

“As
easy as that, huh?”

Cable
falls still.  “I didn’t say that.”

“No,
you didn’t, but you’re sure as heck trying to make it
sound like that.”

“What
do you want me to say?  That ending a life gets easier each time
you do it?  Well, I hate to tell you, but it doesn’t.
 Each time is just as fucked up as the last.”

I
lean forward and wait for him to re-engage with me.  “You
killed twice for me.  I know that cost you something.”

A
vein pulses down the center of his forehead as he struggles to
control his emotions. Guilt? Shame?  Fear?  I can’t
tell.  Probably a mixture of all of those.  “You did
what you had to do.  There’s no fault in that.”

He
drills his gaze right into me and for a split second I recoil.
 “There is always fault in death.  Especially when
it’s face to face.  Those final moments haunt you
forever.”

I
reach out and place my hand on his forearm.  He looks down at
it.  “That’s what makes us different than those
people out there.”

He
follows the direction of my arm as I point to a small cluster of
Withered Ones emerging from the dense tree line.  The wooden
fence proves too tricky to maneuver for the two on the far left side
of the group. The others walk on, leaving their companions behind to
repeatedly march into the fence.

“They
aren’t people,” he says.

I
purse my lips, hesitating before I speak.  “Maybe they
still are.”

“What
do you mean?”

I
jerk my head toward them.  “What do you see?”

He
clears his throat and pulls his hand out from under mine.  The
warmth of his skin lingers only a moment.  I rub my palm against
my leg to remove the feeling of his touch.  “Six Moaners
out for a stroll.”

“They
aren’t strolling, Cable.”  I wait for him to tear
his gaze away from the Moaners to face me again.  “They
are walking, in the same direction, at the same speed.”

He
slowly turns back toward the doorway.  I lean forward, near
enough to see the pulse thrumming against his neck.  “They
are in step with each other.”

His
breath hitches as he finally sees exactly what I have seen for the
past several days.  “That’s not possible,” he
mutters under his breath.

“And
yet it is.”

His
brow furrows as he turns to look at me.  His eyes widen as his
nose brushes against my cheek.  I quickly sit back.  His
gaze searches mine but I turn away, tucking my hair behind my ear.
 Clearing his throat, he repositions himself, placing space
between us.  “I never noticed before.”

“I
did.”  I trail my fingers through the dirt.  The barn
floor is a mixture of dust, old fallen leaves and stray bits of hay.
Beneath is a layer of hard dirt.  “I think one of them
grabbed me.”

Cable’s
head whips up.  “What?”

I
chew on my lower lip, digging my nails deeper into the ground.
 “Before I was taken by those soldiers, I was in this
pharmacy looking for supplies.  I heard it when I entered. It
was dark, pretty much impossible to see.  To be honest, after
the herd I passed through in the street I’m amazed I went in
there at all.”

A
smirk tugs at his handsome features and I know he’s about to
toss out some crap about me being stronger than I think I am, so I
rush ahead.  “It grabbed me by the wrist.  I could
feel how cold its skin was, like a tepid bath on a hot summer day.
 It felt...wrong.  The skin was loose, kinda floppy I
guess.”

“What
happened?”

“A
bag came down over my head and the next thing I knew I was being
tossed in the back of a truck.  Woke up in that blood bank a
while later.”

I
stare at dust motes floating through the air instead of him. I feel
him watching me, weighing my words.  “I know it sounds
crazy.  Trust me, I’ve wondered if I’m losing it so
many times, but I know what happened.”

“I
believe you.”

“Do
you?” I lower my gaze toward him. He stares back with an
unwavering gaze.

“Yes.
 I do.”

“Why?”

“Because
you said it.”