Odium (The Dead Saga.) Read online

  “Yeah, you do stink,” Emily says seriously.

  I laugh again. “You don’t smell too pretty yourself.”

  She laughs in return and blushes.

  “Can you drive?”

  Emily shakes her head. “My dad always promised to teach me when I was old enough. I’ve sat in one and I know what all the gears and pedals are. Well, what I remember. It’s been a long time, you know?”

  “That’s okay, that’s good. If you know the basics, I can teach you as we go.”

  She smiles like it’s family vacation time. I don’t have much choice in teaching her, since I can’t cover all that road on my own if we want to make it there sometime soon. Besides, it could end up being a great survival skill for her if anything happens to me. I feel the urge to protect her at all costs, and the feeling takes me by surprise. It shouldn’t, really. I risked my life just coming over the wall with her, but in some respects I wonder if I had used her as an excuse. I was tired of being stuck in there and being bossed around all the time. I wanted to see what the world had turned into. Not very much, by the looks of things so far.

  “We’re going to need fuel soon, too. The Beast was only a quarter full, and I wasted most of that revving the shit out of the engine and running over zombies.”

  “That seems like a good way to waste fuel.” She smiles at me.

  “Yeah, I think so too.” I smile back, but at the back of my mind, I can’t help but worry about having to try and get fuel. We were lucky enough to find a car that started in the first place; I can’t see that we would be that lucky again.

  We load everything back in the trunk and climb in. It seems Old Man Riely was having a garage sale at some point and had piled clothes and ornaments into the boxes in his garage. Emily had managed to grab some of the clothes and throw them into the back for us. They are…well, old man clothes—checked shirts, brown cargo pants with a surprising amount of pockets, old shoes—but thankfully there are one or two women’s items. His daughter’s, no doubt. I grab a long-ish black dress and a black jacket—it’s really not appropriate for an apocalypse, but it’s clean, which is a blessing. Emily tries on some of the cargo pants and slips a belt around her waist. I have to make a new hole in the belt leather with my knife to get the pants to stay up, since she’s so skinny. Funny: they were too small for me and they’re too big for her. Go figure. I shove my feet into my Doc Martens, and revel once again at my good thought to put them on the day it all went to shit. Doc Martens last through anything.

  We follow the road to a small turn-off where I can see the river go under a small bridge. I climb out and scout around for any stray zombies, but there’s nothing that I can see. That’s the good thing about rural areas, I guess: no houses generally means no hordes of zombies, just the occasional lost one. Poor little lost zombie.

  I fill some old water bottles, and down one of them without thinking. I bite my lip and worry for a second, then decide there’s nothing I can do about it now, anyway, and quickly refill the bottle, this time adding one of the water purification tablets we had found earlier before climbing back into the car, feeling less depressed. I’m not sure if it’s the fresh air, clean clothes, and lack of zombies, or the fact that we have cleared some of the stress that has been building between us.

  Wait, yeah I do. It’s definitely the lack of zombies, though clean clothes and a relatively clean conscience are a bonus too.

  About half a mile down the road, there’s a garage. It’s small, with only one or two pumps and a small shop, but its smallness could work to our advantage. There’s an array of trees surrounding it, and hopefully we can fill up my Beast and get on the road again without any problems. Of course things never go according to plan when you need them to.

  Ten.

  We pull up to a pump, take a hasty look around, and I jump out when I see the coast is clear.

  “Nina,” Emily whispers across to me and I look back in at her without replying.

  “Will they be turned on?”

  I crinkle my forehead up in confusion.

  “Don’t they turn them off or something at night?”

  “Let’s hope that someone did a bad job and left them both on when it went to shit,” I reply.

  I pick up the hose, which dangles down to the ground instead of sitting in its holder, and squeeze the handle grip, silently praying that the end of the world hit this town during the day. Nothing happens for a second or two, but finally, after a weird gurgling sound, fuel squirts out at me, missing my boots by millimeters. That’s the last thing I need. Though I do like the smell of gasoline, I can’t see it being advisable to get it all over me. I look at the other pump and see its nozzle hanging limply to the ground too. I unscrew the pump cap and push in the nozzle, letting the fuel fill up the Beast for a few minutes before it comes to a shuddering stop. I guess we aren’t the only gas thieves around here. I glance in at Emily as I screw the fuel cap back on. She’s smiling like it’s Christmas. I have the urge to smile back, but fear is tickling at my neck. It’s too quiet out here.

  I look back up into the sky, watching a couple of birds circle above us, before sliding back into my driver’s seat and starting it up, vaguely happy to see the gas gauge jump back up to a quarter full again. At least it will keep us going for a little longer.

  “It was on,” I smile. “I didn’t manage to get much, but some is better than none, huh?”

  Emily nods. “Should we look inside?” Emily looks past me at the small convenience store. I follow her gaze. The place looks trashed, and god knows what or who else is in there.

  “No, I think we should just keep going. We have enough stuff to get us by for now at least. No point in risking it.” Though I’m tempted by the candy stand I can see through the window.

  “This could be the last stop we make for a while though. There could be some really useful things in there,” she whines.

  I glance at the candy rack longingly again. It’s tipped to one side and I can’t tell if there’s anything on it anymore, but the colorful little sign is beckoning me regardless. I unclip my seat belt with a groan, turn off the engine, and slide back out, reaching in and grabbing my knife as I do.

  “Okay, but you wait here.” I turn and make my way across to the store with Emily falling into step beside me.

  “I thought I told you to wait in the car.” I don’t look at her, but keep going.

  “You did.” She smirks.

  I frown at her while she continues to smile, and I have to look away before I smile too. Damn infectious smile that she has.

  The doors are locked tight, so we scout out another way in, only finding a small serving hatch that’s partially open—not enough for a normal-sized person to squeeze through, though.

  I look at Emily, and then at the size of the gap. Even she’s too small, but she takes the lead and pushes up the small window. It’s stuck in place, but after a couple of attempts we manage to get it up further, and I boost her in through it and into the dark building beyond.

  My heart races as I follow her on my side of the glass to the doors. She turns a little lock on the door while casting a furtive glance behind her, and I push past her as it clicks open and strain for any noise inside.

  “See, aren’t you glad I came now?” She smirks.

  “No,” I grip my knife tighter, and let my eyes get used to the shadowy store, taking in the mess lying around. There’s not much left of anything; people have clearly raided before us.

  “I told you this was pointless,” I say to Emily through pinched lips.

  She ignores me and continues to root around on a shelf. There are empty packages of cookies, drinks cans, and bags of chips, but nothing more.

  I check out the candy rack and, to my surprise, find a bag of Jolly Ranchers, which have fallen behind the stand. A smile breaks the scowl free from my face.

  “Woot! Look, Emily, cherry Jolly Ranchers!” I can’t hide the childish excitement from my voice. “I used to love these.” I rip the p
ackage open and grab one, shoving it in my mouth before holding the bag out for Emily to take one.

  I won’t lie. I few carnal noises may have escaped my lips, but the embarrassment is worth it for the pleasure that is exploding within my mouth.

  “Don’t move.”

  A gruff voice barks out from somewhere inside the store, and for a moment I’m not sure that I really heard it. I’m so lost in the moment of the sweet. It’s tingly, and the sugar on my tongue is creating a rush of saliva and making me swallow repeatedly. I lean back further against the wall with a satisfied hum. If I die today, then it will have been worth it for this one moment.

  “I said, don’t move.”

  Nope, definitely heard it that time. I open my eyes. Damn, when did I close them?

  A man comes from around the back of one of the aisles, aiming a shotgun at me. I presume it’s a shotgun, it could be a semi-automatic nuclear device for all I know about weapons. What I do know is that it’s big and scary-looking. Unlike the man holding it. Sure, he’s big, but even I can see he has a rugged charm about him. I swallow the candy whole, nearly choking on it as it goes down.

  “How many more of you are there?” He moves closer to us, checking back over his shoulder nervously. His head is shaved, but dark hair has started to grow back.

  “How many more of us? What?” Emily looks from me to Gun Guy warily.

  “People? Women? Men? Whoever,” he half shouts, keeping the gun’s aim steady on us.

  “No one,” Emily whispers. “It’s just us two.”

  “Shut up.” I look at her with narrowed eyes and she shrugs at me like it’s no big deal.

  “Is that your Hummer?” His eyes widen at it, a grin spreading across his tanned face. I want to stamp my feet in frustration.

  “Yes. Our Hummer. Get it?” I snap back bitchily.

  “Not for long.” He looks back at us with a smile, and backs toward the door. “Throw me the keys.”

  “No.” I glare.

  “Nina, just give him the keys.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, Nina,” he mocks from the glass doors. “Just give me the keys, Nina.” He smirks at me, but not for long as a zombie slams into the glass behind him and all three of us scream.

  “Shut up. More might come if they hear you,” he shouts.

  “Hey, you screamed too,” I shout back.

  The zombie bangs its meaty fists against the glass, smearing its mouth across it as if the glass was ice cream and it was cooling itself down from the hot sun.

  “I did not.” He hits the glass angrily with his fists, right where the zombie is. The zombie doesn’t even flinch, but continues its assault on the glass. It really is quite perverted to watch as its tongue licks back and forth, leaving a strange gloop in its wake.

  “Yes you did. It was even louder than Emily’s scream, and she’s just a kid,” I snort.

  Emily shoves me in the side. “Hey, I’m not a kid.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “Sorry,” I look at him again, “but he did.”

  “Does it really matter?” she asks exasperatedly.

  “YES!” Me and Gun Guy shout in unison.

  The shop falls silent as we stare at each other, playing the ‘who can give the other the most evil look’ game. Eventually Emily breaks the ice.

  “Seriously. You don’t seem like you want to hurt us, not really, and we obviously don’t want to hurt you…” she begins.

  “Speak for yourself,” I bite back. He raises an eyebrow at me.

  “That zombie out there is stopping any of us from getting out of here right now, so can we all just calm down? We are going to need to help each other, not fight.” She looks from me to him and then back again. “Nina? Please?”

  Gun Guy lowers his gun slowly, all the time keeping watch on me. Good thing, too, because I want that gun before we part ways.

  “Fine.” I grab another candy and pop it in my mouth. Now that the imminent danger seems to be over, maybe I can finally enjoy it. I stop and look at the scruffy dead person outside. He used to work here, by the looks of his overalls. He’s fat and balding, with no arms. Hence all the licking, I guess. I shudder. I wonder what the hell happened to his arms?

  “Hey, I wonder what happened to his arms?” Gun Guy shouts over to us with a laugh, while putting his hand up close to the zombie’s face. I cringe at the idea that we’ve had the same thought.

  The zombie is going wild on the other side of the glass and tries to bite through it, breaking a couple more of its teeth in the process, and we get to watch the whole glorious spectacle. Fantastic.

  Emily has continued rooting through the shop for anything else we can take, seemingly oblivious to the guy with the gun, who might decide to take us hostage and torture us. Wouldn’t be the first time. I shudder, and look at him. He’s packing some cans into a backpack, and looks like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Not that he doesn’t seem like a badass, but the guards behind the wall all had a certain look about them—a soulless look, I guess. Gun guy doesn’t, at least not so far. He seems more of an opportunist than anything. I swallow another luxurious mouthful of sweet-tasting saliva.

  “Can I have one of those?” Gun Guy is standing in front of me, staring greedily at my bag of candy. I don’t want to share them with anyone—certainly not with a gun-wielding maniac. Especially if this is the last bag in the world.

  “No, they’re mine.” I clutch the bag tighter.

  “Don’t be mean.”

  “Don’t be whiny,” I retort.

  “I could just take them from you,” he says childishly, his brown eyes still staring at my candy.

  “You could try.” I laugh. “But you won’t, will you, Gun Guy? Because if you were going to do that, we wouldn’t be talking about it.” I put them behind my back and out of his immediate reach, narrowing my eyes spitefully at him.

  “It’s Mikey.” He finally looks up at me, his eyes momentarily pausing on my breasts before finding my face.

  “So?”

  “It’s my name.” His eyes soften.

  “And again, so?” I snort and push past him. I’m pretty sure he calls me a bitch, too, but I don’t care; he’s not wrong.

  I find Emily in the magazine section, flipping through an old teen magazine. She looks up as I come close.

  “So what’s the plan?”

  That question again, really? And so soon after the last time she asked me the same thing.

  “Well, we either keep down low until the zombie forgets we’re in here and wanders off, or we find another way out. There’s usually a back exit, but since we didn’t check around the back, I’m wary of going out that way.” I shrug at her.

  “We could go out through the roof.”

  We both turn to look at our newest and most unlikely companion, who miraculously seems to have found a can of Spam and is subsequently scooping it out with his hands. It’s surprising what food survives the end of the world.

  Eleven.

  “The roof?” I ask incredulously. “Well aren’t you a real Einstein? Yeah, let’s go out through the roof. Get serious.” Sarcasm drips from me and I turn to face Emily again.

  “It’s how I got in,” he replies dryly.

  “Oh…” Well now I feel stupid. I look back at him. He’s still eating the Spam. Damn, it smells good, even for Spam.

  “I think the word you’re looking for is sorry.” He stops his scooping and looks at me while licking his fingers. I can’t decide whether he’s trying to be seductive or not, but the image is far from it. Imagine a dog licking out the inside of a can of food, the meat sliding down the outside of the can and falling to the floor. Yeah, real sexy, right?

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “So, how do we get up to the roof then?”

  A bang interrupts our talking as another zombie hits the glass front. This is way too much like déjà vu for my liking.

  “Come on, we need to go now before more turn up. There’s never just one or two.” Mikey drops the empty can, grabs
my hand, and pulls me toward the back of the store. I, in turn, grab Emily and drag her with us. His hand is sticky and disgusting if I’m totally honest, and I can’t help but flinch at his touch.

  At the back of the shop is a small storeroom, and in the middle is a pile of chairs, which Mikey must have used to climb down on. He must have made this trip more than once by the looks of this, and I can’t help but wonder where he’s staying. The store seems pretty secure if you stay out of sight, and though there isn’t much food left, there is some, I realize as I stare around the small room. Cans are loaded on some of the shelves, dried pastas and bags of cereal.

  “There’s still so much food left,” I murmur.

  Mikey glances around with a shrug. “I guess so. There just aren’t many people left in the world to eat it.”

  My stomach rolls with nerves. We’re so lucky to be alive right now; I guess I keep forgetting that.

  He climbs up first, and pulls himself up through the hole in the ceiling. I wonder if he’s going to leave us down here, but a few seconds later his head pops back through the hole and he reaches down as far as he can with his hand.

  “Come on.” He looks at us both and I push Emily forward first since she seems less capable than me.

  She climbs up partway and grabs his hand, and Mikey half-pulls her while she climbs out. A few more seconds pass before his face pops back through the hole, his hand reaching for me. I slip my candy in my pocket and climb up, gripping his warm, sticky hand in mine. He pulls me up and I find purchase every now and then with my feet. My fingers reach the lip of the access and I start to pull myself out. The boxes beneath me move and I slip, barely holding on until Mikey reaches for me again. His fingers wrap around my arm, and he pulls me up and out as a loud bang sounds out below me. His muscles strain while he does—since I now have nothing to put my feet on, I’m a dead weight. His other hand reaches for me and grabs my other arm as I finally pull free of the hole and we crash backwards. I land awkwardly on his chest as his back slams into the gravelly roof, and we both groan as the air abruptly leaves our lungs.