It took Noah a full minute to realize he’d fallen. For the past few hours, he’d been running and hiding and surviving and his body had finally had enough. His head was pounding; his nerves were frayed. He squinted at the sun.
The forest felt like it went on forever.
He was no longer certain where he was or what direction he was traveling. Up until now he’d been following the progression of the sun, navigating his way west. Now he wasn’t sure where he’d ended up.
Was he going the right way? Was there another road ahead?
For all he knew, Noah had doubled back and was heading into the arms of his pursuers. He tried to sit up but fell. His consciousness was fading and he was powerless to stop it.
Sooner or later someone would find him. Whether it would be the men or the infected, he wasn’t sure. Did it even make a difference anymore?
Either one would end his life.
His mind spit images of the creatures. He saw them tearing and biting and clawing, their faces barely human. He clenched his eyes shut, hoping to rid himself of the images, but the creatures had already morphed into the men chasing him. Their faces sneered and snarled as they pursued him through the wilderness, laughing at his futile attempts at escape.
But he’d killed them. One of them, at least.
He’d stabbed the man through the neck with a stick, and the man had bled all over the forest floor. And then he’d shot another. The vision returned to him through the haze, and suddenly he was gagging and coughing and hoping he could forget.
He was no better than all the rest. Maybe he deserved to die in the woods.
The heat of the sun enveloped him and his eyes fluttered closed.
It took him a few seconds to realize there was someone was standing over him.
A hand grabbed his arm. Noah tried to struggle, but he was too weak. Somewhere beside him was the rifle, but he had no strength to grab it.
“It’s all right,” someone whispered.
Noah forced his eyes open. Through the glare of the sun he could make out a young woman. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail and she was holding a bottle of water.
“Don’t make any sudden movements,” she warned. She flashed his rifle at him.
Noah parted his lips to speak, but his throat wouldn’t cooperate.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
He tried to find his voice, but his mouth was dry, his lips chapped. The girl handed him the bottle of water and scampered back a few feet, as if she was afraid of him. He took the water, ready to drink, but then thought better of it.
What if it contained the virus?
He pulled himself to a sitting position while the girl eyed him with concern.
“You should drink it. It’ll help.”
He shook his head and cleared his throat.
“I can’t,” he said.
The girl’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“It might be infected.”
Having spoken the words, he swiveled his head around the forest, as if one of the creatures might spring out at any moment.
“What’s your name?” the girl repeated.
“Noah.”
“Can you walk, Noah?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Let me help you.”
The girl lowered the rifle and moved toward him. She held out her arm and he took it. Regardless of who this girl was, one thing was clear: he wouldn’t make it without her assistance.
The girl pulled him to his feet. Noah wobbled but stayed upright, head still spinning. He clung to her for support.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“Chester.”
“Am I still in Colorado?”
“Yes.”
“I thought that—”
“Save your energy. If you want to live, we need to move.”
“Where are we going?”
“Does it matter?”
Noah smiled grimly. Even though they had just met, the truth lay unspoken between them.
Wherever they were going was the same as where they’d been: nothing was ever certain, and no one was safe.
Noah clung to the girl’s arm, letting her lead the way as they progressed through the forest. Her appearance had given him renewed strength. The prospect of shelter, real shelter, was enough to propel him forward and sustain him.
Food and drink would be next. But he’d have to worry about that later.
For the first few minutes, they walked in silence, focusing on the mission at hand. He noticed the girl had a knife and a pistol holstered at her side, but she was carrying Noah’s rifle in her hand, aiming it at the forest in front of them.
He’d let her take it without issue. If it weren’t for her, he’d already be dead.
Before long, the light of a clearing emerged. The sky shone a magnificent blue as the warm rays of the sun slipped through the trees. He trudged toward the clearing, hoping they’d find solace there.
The forest seemed to have grown darker with every step, and he was grateful for the chance to get out. After a few minutes, the girl spoke.
“I’m Caddy,” she said in a hushed tone.
“Thanks, Caddy. I thought I was going to die in there.”
“Don’t thank me yet. We’ve still got a ways to go.”
The girl looked over at him, her eyes coated in fear. Whatever she’d seen in the last few days was probably as bad as what he’d seen—maybe even worse. There was no way she’d survived this long unscathed. She pointed through the trees.
“My house is beyond that clearing. It’s on a small dead-end street.”
“Are you alone?”
“No.” Caddy paused. “I’m with my mother.”
Noah sensed she was uncomfortable with the discussion, so he allowed the conversation to fade. He put his efforts into walking—one step at a time, one foot in front of the other. The sooner they reached her house, the sooner he could recuperate.
The sooner he could come up with a plan.
As they traveled, he continued to glance behind them, looking for the men who’d pursued him. There was a chance they were watching. Even though he had a companion and a rifle, the odds were still against him.
If anything happened to Caddy, he’d feel guilty. They’d only just met, but already he felt responsible for her. She could have easily gone past him in the woods; instead, she’d chosen to stop.
These days, compassion was rewarded with death.
Caddy noticed him looking over his shoulder.
“Is someone after you?”
Noah hesitated. “No. Yes. I mean—I took care of them, but there may be more coming.”
The girl drew back. He tried to put himself in her shoes. To her he was a stranger, no more familiar than the men who’d pursued him. How did she know he wouldn’t murder her? He did his best to explain.
“They ran me off the road this morning and chased me into the forest,” he clarified. “Then they did this.”
He pointed to his face. He could only guess what he looked like, but he was sure it wasn’t pretty.
“They took everything I had and ruined my truck,” he continued. “I barely got away. The only way I survived was by taking one of their weapons.”
He motioned to the rifle she was holding. Caddy nodded. She took hold of his arm again, but this time he noticed her grip wasn’t as tight.
He’d have to earn her trust. Given their circumstances, he couldn’t expect much more than that.
The trees had started to thin and Noah could make out the road beyond them. The last time he’d seen pavement was when he’d seen the army vehicle. He still wasn’t sure if he’d been hallucinating or if it’d been real.
“I thought I saw an army vehicle on the road back a ways,” he said. “Did you see it?”
The girl shook her head.
“We should go look for it. We might be able to get help,” Noah said.
Noah furrowed his brow and looked behind them. How far back had the men been? In his efforts to escape them, he’d been traipsing the forest forever. Now he’d lost track of where he’d been.
“I think it might have been a few miles that way.”
The girl gave him a look. “Are you sure?”
“No,” he admitted.
“You’re in no shape to travel. We should get back to my house.”
He nodded and kept his eyes glued to the road ahead.
Where there was a road, there were bound to be vehicles. Maybe even the men who were after him. He pictured the black F150 that had run his truck off the road and shuddered with fear. The men had struck without warning, ramming his vehicle. He couldn’t recall their faces, but he remembered there were five of them.
That meant there were three more.
Noah had been so preoccupied with getting away that he hadn’t been able to identify them. In his mind, the men were a jumble of beards and laughter, a faceless mass that delighted in his pain.
Killing two should’ve been vindication, but instead it made him feel hollow. No one should be forced to do that.
Noah stepped through trees, leaning on Caddy for support. They were almost to the edge of the road. At the bottom he could see a row of houses.
“Mine is the last one on the right,” Caddy said.
“Have you seen any infected here?”
“Not since last night.”
She tugged him along, quickening their pace. After a few more steps, she ducked behind a tree and she pulled a pair of mini-binoculars from her pocket.
“Where’d you get those?”
“They’re my mother’s. She likes watching the birds.”
Noah watched as she surveyed the landscape, then turned his attention to the neighborhood below. The properties were at the bottom of a decline about a half-mile away. There were eight in total, each identical in shape and size. Prior to the infection, the neighborhood was probably quaint and desirable; now it was littered with debris.
Noah could see cars parked in the center of the road, their wheels turned at odd angles, their drivers nowhere in sight. Garbage cans were emptied onto the street; garden tools and hoses were strewn about the yards. Noah didn’t see any bodies, but he assumed they had to be somewhere. In contrast with the eerie calm, the neighborhood looked like it’d been demolished, and he could only imagine the struggles that had taken place there.
Caddy swiveled the binoculars from left to right while Noah kept an eye out behind them.
“All clear?” he whispered after a minute.
The sun beat down from above and Noah wiped his face with his torn shirtsleeve.
Caddy grabbed hold of his arm. Her entire body had stiffened.
“Oh no!” she hissed.
She pointed to her house and handed Noah the binoculars. Something was moving in the backyard. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed it before.
He pressed the lenses to his face.
A woman in her forties was leaning out the second-floor window of the house. Beneath her was a cluster of the infected.