Away From the Sun (13 page)

“You could have been a little nicer to him,” she says.
 

“I suppose so,” I say.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.
 

“My father. He’s keeping a lot of secrets from us.” A guard opens the front gate and we’re on the road. I let out a sigh and lean my forehead against the window, watching as the fog spreads across the glass in front of me. “I’m just about through with all this, Ashley.”

“I know.” She reaches over to me and places a hand in mine. I look down at her thumb and watch it as it caresses my hand. Such sweet fingers. I cup her hand in both of mine and bring it to my lips. I hate that these hands have had to kill; that these hands have had to fight off the undead. It breaks me to know that her enticing eyes have seen all the horrors that this world has to offer.
 

I hold her hand for the next hour as I think about our future. Our past. Meeting Ashley was the best thing that ever happened to me. Now, I know people say things like that. But I always question in my mind if they really mean it. People throw that phrase around like it means nothing.
The best thing that ever happened to me.
For me, it’s true. If it wasn’t for Ashley, I would be dead—body
and
soul. She is the only person that helps me see the light in this bleak world. This
underworld
as I like to call it.
 

We drive on and on. We’re headed to a secret outpost that my father constructed near the town of Marion. It’s an unassuming place—nothing anyone would think to try to raid. In fact, it’s just a locked hatch in the ground that only needs a key. Though safe from greyskins and bandits, the area surrounding is teeming with dangers at every corner. The last time I was there, I was actually bringing in supplies to store. I was attacked by greyskins from every angle. That time, I didn’t actually make it to the hatch. I had to abandon the supplies and drive away. I can’t think of that place without a shiver going up my spine.
 

I squeeze Ashley’s hand tighter.
 

“What is it?” she asks.
 

“What would you think about driving on past Marion?” I ask.
 

“What do you mean?” she says with a smile.

“I mean we get to Marion and we keep driving.”

“What, and forget about getting the weapons?”

“Forget about everything,” I say. “The weapons…Shadowface…my father. Forget it all.”

“You can’t just forget about your father,” Ashley says.
 

I can’t keep myself from rolling my eyes. I let go of her hand. I can’t say how many times she and I have talked about this. No matter what I tell her, she can’t seem to comprehend that he isn’t really my father. At least, not in the sense that I care anything about him. If Jeremiah died tomorrow, I’m not sure I would have any guilt or sadness. In fact, I fear that I might even feel a bit of relief. All the secrets. All the lies. He is the most secretive human being I’ve ever met. Being around him, thinking about him, makes me cynical. He makes me feel hatred and I don’t like it.
 

“I’m sorry,” Ashley says, “but I’ve committed myself to this. We’ve worked so hard to get me in a position to get close to Shadowface. If he really is coming to Elkhorn, there’s a chance he will want to see me.”

She speaks of our plan—something the group has been working on since the day Ashley joined with us. She
will
be able to get close to Shadowface, but that doesn’t mean I want her to anymore.
 

“Why is it important?” I ask.
 

“You know why. You have your own reasons for wanting to bring him down.”

“Or her,” I say.

“What?”

“That’s just it. We know nothing about Shadowface. What if
he’s
a
she?”

“What difference does it make?”

“The difference is that we are chasing after someone without a face,” I say. “I want Shadowface to fall because of the kind of person he is, not because of what my father says about him.”

“I agree,” she says.
 

“But what kind of person is Shadowface?” I ask her.
 

“A power-seeker,” she says. “A person with no checks or balances. A thug. A coward for refusing to show his face. He asks for allegiance and when he gets enough support, he will start taking places by force. We need to stop people like him so there is time for society to rebuild itself as it should be. Back to the days before the outbreak.”

This is where the two of us disagree and she knows it. That fact doesn’t keep her from preaching it to me, however. She hopes for the
glory
days
when two political parties stand against each other, slandering names and doing their best to destroy the opponent, no matter what the cost. Just as long as some fascist or communist gets a chance at the big boy’s chair. I’ve tried to explain to her that there was little difference in Shadowface and the people that held office before the outbreak, but she disagrees with me.
 

That’s fine,
I think to myself. It’s not like a two-party system is going to rise out of the ashes anytime soon. Hopefully I will be long gone and dead before I have to see that.
 

“Shadowface doesn’t have an infinite reach,” I say to her. “We can drive and keep on driving. If he gains power…so what? He can only have
so much
power. If we just keep going…”

“We’ll find another Shadowface,” she interrupts. “You know running won’t do anything. And we will both be thinking about it all the time.” She sighs. “I just want to do what’s right.”

That’s the problem.
Everyone is doing what is right in his or her own mind. That’s why there is such a thing as conflict. That’s why people have wars. How many people see themselves as the bad guy?

I suppose that’s me.

If I am the only one to see things the way I do, the one that has a different view of life than anyone else in the known world, a view that puts a positive spin on the greyskin outbreak and condemns the thought of a new government—doesn’t that make me the bad guy? What if my view
is
the correct one and others just can’t see it?

That makes me the bad guy.

A few hours later, we are close to Marion. Ashley and I have spent most of the ride in silence. I don’t expect her to keep driving once we pass the
Welcome to Marion
sign, but I sit in anticipation anyway. Oh, what a feeling it would be if she didn’t let up on the gas. To watch the town go by and become smaller in the mirror as we keep driving would feel like freedom. It would be like we were new people with a brand new set of dreams and ambitions. Gone would be the weight of my father’s deceit. I would embrace life. I would breathe the air differently. I would care nothing for anarchy, or the wretched two-party system. I would do my part in society in a peaceful and respectable manner. I would help people rebuild. I would change.
 

Ashley squashes those dreams with the sole of her boot as she steps on the brake, slowing us to a stop at the edge of town.

“Can you get us to the hatch?” she asks.
 

It takes me a moment to realize that she has spoken to me. “Yes,” I finally say. “Drive up to the stoplight and make a left. I will tell you when to stop.” She does as I say and I’m tempted to never tell her to stop, though she would eventually and it would turn into a fight. There’s no point in that.
 

I accept that we are going into Marion to get to the hatch. That is the decision that has been made, though I feel like it was made for me.

We pass building after building. Banks…diners…gas stations. The hatch is down the street from the city park near the water treatment plant. I’ve never taken the time to figure out exactly what it was originally used for, but my father is the one that showed it to me.
 

She drives us through the town slowly, trying to avoid any attention from the greyskins.

“This is odd,” I say.
 

“What is?”

“The last time I was here, there were greyskins everywhere.”

“Do you think they were cleared out?” she asks.
 

“I don’t know. That wouldn’t necessarily be a good thing,” I say. “Clearing them out might mean there are bandits or a settlement nearby.”

“When was the last time you were out here?”

“About six months ago. Remember when we were holed up in a town called Salem?”

Ashley nods. “Oh yeah.”

“Yeah, well, this place was awful then; I didn’t even make it to the hatch. But it seems deserted now.”

“Well, you and I both know that doesn’t mean it really is,” she says.
 

It’s true. We’ve come up on
ghost towns
before only to find out that they weren’t empty at all. It seems that multitudes of greyskins are able to hide away in the crevices of rundown buildings only to come out when there is an unfamiliar noise. They will do anything to spread the disease within them.
 

The hatch isn’t far. I have her make a right and then pull left into a field across from the treatment plant. What used to be a place that would give ample amounts of white noise to hide our own movements is now dead and motionless. In the middle of the field is what looks like a manhole cover, but has two rusted locks at the edge. Ashley backs the truck up to it and kills the engine.
 

“You ready?” she asks.
 

“Do you mean am I glad that you brought us to Marion instead of just driving away with the sun on our backs where we could live together in love for the rest of our days?”

“No,” she says flatly. “I simply wanted to know if you had your keys ready. We need to make this quick.”

I roll my eyes at her and reach into my pocket for the keys. They jingle softly as I pull them out and dangle them in front of her.
 

“You unlock the hatch,” she says, “I’ll watch your back.”

“I love you, you know that?” I say. I lean in to kiss her soft lips. She starts to pull away at first, but as my lips touch hers, she gives in and begins to kiss me back.

Her tenderness warms me, and it’s difficult to stop. She reaches up to my neck and pushes me gently away. “Are you ready?” she asks.
 

I sigh and open the truck door with as little sound as possible. I don’t close it behind me and I walk to the back of the truck and unzip the bag. The first thing I pull out is a machete. I swing it over my head and make sure the strap is secure at my shoulders. I then reach in and pull out an M-4 and hand it to Ashley.
 

“Got another knife?” she asks me. I pull out a long dagger and hand it to her. I feel for my own and find it sheathed neatly on my belt.
 

Fully equipped, I walk ten feet away from the truck and kneel next to the hatch. I look at Ashley and then all around us. It’s eerily quiet. I insert the key to the first lock and try to turn it.
 

Wrong key.
I try the other one that looks like it will fit and again, nothing turns. I look up at Ashley and a drip of sweat trickles down my nose, despite the cold wind blowing all around us. I wish I knew which key it was. My father has about twenty on the key ring, all of them important to him for some reason or another. I try the next three keys and still, nothing turns.
 

“What’s going on?” Ashley asks me.
 

“I’m not sure I have the right set,” I tell her.
 

Movement to our right grabs our attention. A single, rotting greyskin has spotted us. Ashley slings the rifle over her shoulder and pulls up her dagger. I keep trying the keys.

I go through all of them and nothing turns. I can’t help but wonder if the lock is just so rusted that it won’t respond or if I have the wrong set. As Ashley takes a few steps forward to kill the lone greyskin, I move on to the next lock.
 

Key after key, and nothing turns. I can hear the groaning of the greyskin ahead of us. It’s jaws chomp up and down, over and over. I can smell its rotting decay—the same smell that I detect around my father sometimes. Ashley makes a single stab straight through the greyskin’s forehead and it drops.

It’s a small victory, and the feeling of relief vanishes quickly as she spots three more coming in to our left. I can see four more coming in from the right. Blades won’t be enough.
 

“Toss me a rifle,” I tell her. She reaches into the back of the truck and pulls out another M-4 and tosses it to me. I check it for ammo and then take aim at the first greyskin to my right. A shot through the head and it falls. The sound of the shot echoes across the open space, probably calling an entire herd of greyskins toward us. Once the newest group is motionless on the ground, I turn and point the rifle at the locks on the hatch and shoot them off.
 

“This should have been done more quietly,” Ashley says, taking aim at another group.
 

“Can you hold them off?” I ask as I pull the hatch door open.
 

“Be quick!”

I sling the rifle over my shoulder and grab onto the ladder and descend as quickly as I can. Ashley fires above my head, no doubt perfectly accurate with each shot, though if I don’t get all the supplies out of here quickly, we’ll both be overrun.
 

When my feet hit the concrete floor, I reach to the wall and smack a few battery operated lights. I can see boxes lining the walls, each of them filled with rifles, grenades, various types of rocket launchers, among other items. I was hoping to be quiet enough so the two of us could have moved the supplies together. If my father hadn’t thought to install a pulley system at the bottom of the ladder, we might not be able to do this at all.
 

The key is to prioritize. I scan the boxes. First, we’ll need rifles and magazines. I drag a box to the lift and set it straight. I’ll be able to move the boxes upward, but how will we get the boxes to the truck? Ashley’s shooting is almost constant.