Ash: Book One in the Rising Ash Saga (2 page)

              “What's happening?” Rachel asks as the boy continues to pull bites off his morsel of jerky.

              I turn back and press against the door to the large mansion. Not much longer and this building will be surrounded by shuffling, broken-soled shoes, scuffling forward, mindless to whatever is in front of them, capable of no reason at all.

              “We can't get in there,” she says.

              “Why not?” I ask.

              “It's a historical building. The door is locked.” She points to the large metal green sign which apparently explains the significance of the property. I had not taken the time to read it.

              I pull my sleeve down over my hand, forming a fist which I use to punch through the window pane nearest the knob and unhook the lock. She winces at my actions, but seconds later the door swings open with ease.

              “But...” she stammers.

              “Everything is a historical building at this point,” I say as I push open the door. “There's a horde over the horizon. I understand the sentiment. Really I do, we don't have time to find another place right now. They'll be here within the hour.”

              Her eyes dart wildly from me to the close horizon past the road. I see in her gaze that she expects any second for the creatures to appear, swarming over the hillside like a colony of ants. She nods and ushers the boy towards the open doorway. 

              Once inside, I find the largest piece of furniture, the ornate footed sofa, and scoot it in front of the door. I steal a glance towards the boy. The way he clings to his mother and watches me with those wide trembling eyes leaves me feeling unnerved. I move silently around the room double-checking the security of the windows. I wonder what they had been through. Obviously something, based on the pallid circles under his eyes.

              “This room is secure,” I say as I turn towards them. “Unfortunately, we are just going to have to wait them out as they pass by. The two of you should stay in the middle. I'll stay on watch just in case.”

              “Just in case of what?” the woman asks.

              I glance down at the boy, nothing more than a flick of the eye. She nods, her expression drawn. 

              “Should we stay quiet?” she asks.

              “It wouldn't hurt. I still haven't figured out what attracts them. I know they are not very smart. We can't be too careful, but I don't see them getting past the stairs.”

              The crash of breaking tree branches echoes from the hillside outside, propelling us all into motion. I cross the room and check the windows. The two of them lower slowly to the floor, landing in a cross-legged pile, arms grasping at each other. The fear in their eyes, downright palpable. I reach down to my belt and pull out the sheathed knife. I place my other hand around the crossbow and pull it around to my shoulder, wincing at the loud click when I remove the safety.

              I see the first one appear over the horizon.

              The horde moves at a snail's pace, lurching forward one step at a time. The front lines of them scatter here and there in chaotic wandering, but for the most part, they look like a sea, one entity mindlessly absorbing anything that crosses its path. The first ones of the pack reach the freeway and make their way across, one step at a time. One of them stumbles, and just like that, it becomes absorbed, trampled over by the others, no longer visible.   

              We could be here for a while.

              The edges of the horde stretched to the horizon on either side, partially because of the narrow window impeding my vision. It is not very deep, maybe half a mile at most. I hold my breath as they near, keeping my eyes on the bottom of the stairs leading up to the front door where I stand, my crossbow at the ready, with nothing but the thin membrane of wood between me and them.

              I have seen them take stairs before, but it involved several of them falling and forming a gruesome ramp. The others then gained traction eventually and made their way up that way. It could also mean they contained the capacity of brain function for problem-solving on some level. Either that or it was a fluke. Hopefully, it is the latter.

              By this time the sound has reached all of our ears, the slow moan and shuffle, the grating pull of flesh against earth. The worst part is the mindlessness of their movements. I turn my eyes to the first step down below me as they shuffle forward.

              The first wave makes it to the stairs.

              Toes bump against the rise of the step. One falls forward and my breath catches in my throat. It makes no move to correct itself. The rest of them shuffle around it, moving towards the edge of the large house like water in a rocky stream bed. I exhale. 

              We all wait, none of us moving a muscle.

              After several minutes the horde begins to dissipate as they move past, winding to just a few stragglers. Finally, the last one disappears out of range.

              “I think they are gone,” I whisper. They both let out audible breaths. It would be another hour before it would be safe to leave the mansion. I turn away from the window and sit down with them. 

Two

              “Were the two of you headed into town also?” I ask as I turn back towards the window. The sky had become a dull slate blue, but clear as far as I could see, excellent weather for a supply run.

              “Yes,” she begins. “I'm afraid we lost our food with the car also. We've been on the open road for a couple of hours before you found us. I didn't think we would have survived for very much longer if you had not shown up when you did.”

              “I didn't do much of anything,” I say as I stand, brushing the dust off my jeans. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

              “Would you come with us?” Rachel asks. “Safety in numbers, and all that?”

              I glance at the two of them, taking stock. Survival depends on having a group, even a small one can make all the difference. I see no visible weapons between them, nothing showing any particular speed or skills in a fight situation. I already know they would slow me down to some degree. If we did join up, it would be to their benefit. I would have to be careful.

              Marcus' eyes dart around the room, his shoulders momentarily relaxed now that the excitement had passed. Rachel is right. They would not have survived much longer.

              “Okay, sure,” I say. “I think we can watch out for each other.”

              They both nod.

              “First thing's first. We need to find a vehicle. Yours is out of commission?”

              “We lost it a few miles back to the West.”

              “Do you have any belongings there? Anything you need to go back for?”

              “No.” A flicker of emotion passes over her face, but just as suddenly it is gone.

              “Just as well,” I say. “I want us to keep moving. I was in the process of circling the outskirts of town, but after than horde, I think we should follow the path they took.”

              “Do you think that's safe?” she asks. “What if one of them circles back?”

              “They don't travel that way. When there are that many together, they keep moving forward. They go over or around anything that blocks their way. But never back. If they do veer away, it's off to the side. I've learned it is safer to follow a horde as long as we keep our distance. They actually did us a favor.”

              “I don't know, I still think the road would be a better option,” Rachel says.

              “This way is clear. We can't know the same about the road.”

              “I see.” She swallows hard, making a thick clicking sound in the back of her throat before she nods.

              “Marcus,” I say as I crouch down to his eye level. “I'm going to need some help from you.”

              “Me?” he replies scrunching his nose up at me. This is the first time I have heard him speak.

              “Yes, you. Can you tell me what is your favorite color?”

              “Um...” He scrunches up his nose as if considering the importance of the question. “Blue?”

              “Are you asking me or telling me?” I add a small grin to attempt to ease his discomfort.

              “Um... I'm telling you.” He stands a bit straighter, firming up his shoulders. “I like blue.”

              “Okay great, Marcus. You know what we are going to do once we get into town?”

              “What?”

              “We have to find a car. There's going to be a whole lot of cars and other vehicles there. All different colors. What about we keep an eye out for the shiniest blue car we can find. Sound like a plan?”

              He nods vigorously with a grin his face.

              “Okay,” I whisper. “It's go time.”

              We step out the front door. I keep the crossbow at my side in case we run into any trouble. After scanning the horizon and taking account of the small breeze, I motion for them to follow. I stay in front, tracking the path after we leave the mansion. Marcus walks behind me and Rachel bringing up the rear. I reach into my back pocket and give her my other switchblade, but this is mostly a gesture on my part. I do not have much faith in her abilities as a fighter, even if she would put in a good effort. The sun is bright. Now and then a bird chirps, alerting me that we are traveling the right direction. The time to worry is when the birds go silent.

              “When is the last time the two of you have eaten?” I ask.

              “Not since the car broke down. About an hour before maybe. We had found our way into an abandoned grocery store.”

              “That's good. We'll keep an eye out for something quick for you guys.”

              The next place we come to is an old diner, surrounded by trees and vines already making their way towards pulling the walls down, snaking through the windows like bony fingers. Eventually, the whole world will look like this, I know. That is what I have learned by growing up in a dead world.

              Nothing lasts.

              Everything falls.

              Everything.

              I wonder sometimes what life will be like for that boy. He must have been born around the same time that everything went to hell. A child of the fall. They are rare, as there are not many of us left, but there is something remarkable about the children who have only known this world, some kind of steeliness, absent in those who remember. 

              “Where did you come from, Rachel?” I ask. “Before, I mean. Before... you know.”

              “Cincinnati,” she answers. “I was in insurance sales.”

              “Insurance sales?”

              “It's not even worth explaining,” she says with a small laugh.

              A skittering of branches catches my attention off to the left. Immediately I raise my hand for them to stop. They freeze instantly and I reach for my bow swinging it around into position like I had done a thousand times before. The trees surrounding us block out the view. We stand in the center of a small grove, grown up with briars, flattened a bit by the passing horde, but tangled and thick regardless.

              Marcus backs into Rachel, and I see her fingers tighten around the handle of the knife tucked into her belt clutching to his shoulder with her other hand. Her eyes dart from me to the origin of the sound.

              A mare horse steps into view, lining up perfectly with the cross hairs of the eyepiece. A sense of relief washes over me, but I cannot relax yet. 

              I take aim.              

              Seconds later, the leaves behind her come alive as her tiny foal trots out next to her. I exhale and lower my bow casting a glance towards the other two. We needed the food of course, and I could have easily taken both of animals. But we have no place to field strip them, and seeing the wonder light up on Marcus' face at the sight of the baby horse, let me know I had made the right decision. If either of the animals had been injured or if the foal had been alone things would have been different. This time, I would pass.

              We watch them in silence until they skitter off into the surrounding thicket.

              We arrive at a small square building a short while later.

              The first thing I notice is the open door.

              “Wait here,” I say. “It could be infected. I'll need to clear the building to be certain.”

              “Are you sure?” Rachel asks. “You can't go in there alone. At least, let me follow you.”

              That is the last thing I want. “I've done this many times. It will only take a few minutes. Keep your back to the wall and stay here until I get back.”

              Her eyes dart around the surrounding landscape before finally landing back on me.

              I nod, hoping to give her a sense of ease, something I was not good at most of the time. I pulled the knife from my ankle strap and stepped into the darkened building.

              I hear no sound except myself pounding on the walls and skittering my knife blade along the walls in an attempt to draw them out if there are any. I make my way through the main room with the blade held up ready to strike when necessary. Slowly pushing open the metal swinging doors to the kitchen. With the amount of dissonant noise I am making, they would have shown themselves by now.

              Finally, I stand in the center of the room satisfied that the property is secure.

              “Come on in,” I call, sticking my head out to the two of them standing side by side against the wall of the building. 

              I lock the door behind me, noticing both of their faces relax at the relief of not having to be on guard for a few moments. Marcus navigates over to one of the padded plastic booth seats and sits down, taking off his shoes and rubbing his feet.

              “It's clear,” I assure her.

              Rachel walks with me as I began to double check the perimeter. Now that the place was secure of anyone, or anything, besides us, we need to make sure no one could get in either. We check the windows one at a time running our hands along the panes of glass, testing the edges. Nothing appears broken or loose so far.

              We come to the swinging doors leading into the kitchen. Before we push through, she glances back at the boy who stares open-mouthed at the bright logo hanging above the long dead video game. 

              “He'll be fine,” I say.

              She nods as we push into the darkened kitchen.

              Our only hope was to find something canned. If the old stoves had worked, this place would have been an ideal place to set up camp. It may yet be, even without the power. I step forward and start opening doors, pulling out bowls and any kitchen tools I find. The gadgets look foreign and awkward in my hands, and I can only guess what their purpose might be. The first thing that comes to mind is how I could use each one as a weapon. At the end of the cabinets, I see an open door leading into a pantry area.

              “Rachel,” I say only loud enough to catch her attention across the large kitchen. She steps over and her mouth drops open at the sight before us.

              The small room is full of shelves, stocked full of large cans. A variety of soups, dry potato flakes, a collection of salad dressings, cornmeal, beans, canned chicken, fish and more. The amount of food is enough to feed us for a good long while.

              “Too bad none of it is fresh,” Rachel says in jest, her voice tinged with wonder.

              “I have an idea,” I say. “I know the two of you are heading East, but what if we stayed here for a few days?”

              “Stayed here? What do you mean?”

              “I mean, I know it isn't wise to stay in one place for too long, but this food is just sitting here. We can easily secure the building. It wouldn't take much more. All we would need is just a source of heat. Marcus has already discovered the booths are more comfortable than the bare ground. Maybe even just until we get our strength back. What do you think? We work on this stash here until it is manageable for us to carry the rest.”

              “Hmm.” She considers the idea for a moment. “We have been on the road for a while now.”

              “Just a few days time,” I say. “Then we will move on once we feel rested.”

              “Okay, yeah. I think it would be good for him. He's been through more than enough. It's a great idea the more I think about it. When are we ever going to see this much food in one place again?”

              We start to pull things down from the shelves. Just a few cans at first. I reach for a cardboard box of apple juice and cradle it in my left arm, piling smaller cans on top of it.

              “Marcus,” she calls through the door, keeping her voice muted.

              He appears a moment later with curiosity etched on his face. Seeing the stash, his eyes grow wide and his mouth falls open.

              “Come here,” I say as I beckon him to the kitchen. 

              I take the juice to the main counter grabbing a knife on the way. After I slice open the top of the box, I reach over to the dish area and grab a glass. He watches as I pour the amber liquid into the glass and hand it to him.

              He drinks it with a kind of enthusiasm that I have not seen in a while. He empties the glass, leaving a few droplets on his lips which he wipes away with the back of his hand. I fill it again and he repeats the whole process happily.

              The reasons I have given Rachel about staying here are only partially true. I want to make the run into town without them, and keeping then in a secure location would make that easier.

              I do not believe they would hinder me. I need to find us a car, of course, but I needed something else as well. I had to find what I was looking for, and that I had to do alone. It gave me some small inkling of peace that the child should not be out in the open. This was no world for a child. I would do what I could to get them a secure vehicle and get them headed on their way.