Devour: Death & Decay Book 1 (23 page)

Day 5
12:42 am

Liv couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled up as she strode down the street. She was almost home.

She could see the house now, sitting on the darkened street, and her pace quickened. The house wasn’t impressive. A small ranch-style one-story with tan siding, a small porch, and a decent-sized yard for Elli to play in. But it was her home.

A few ferals stood motionless in the street but she avoided them easily enough. She sprinted the last few steps up the driveway and eagerly took hold of the doorknob. Her fingers shook as she clumsily attempted to get the key into the lock.

Finally, the key slid home and she twisted it, throwing open the door.

“Colin!” she called out frantically. “Colin!”

She shouldn’t expect him to be here. He had a lot further to travel than her and a river to cross, but the hope welled up inside her just the same.

No one answered. No sounds at all came from the house.

Liv dashed to the master bedroom. He had always been a heavy sleeper. Maybe he was still asleep. “Colin!” Her heart sank a little when she found it empty.

Liv cast around desperately, trying to think of somewhere else in the house he might be.

The basement. Maybe he had taken refuge in the basement, where the ferals would be less likely to hear or see his movements. Her footsteps were quick and panicked as she threw open the basement door.

“Colin!” she called from the top of the stairs.

There was no answer. She still couldn’t be sure. She leapt down the stairs two at a time. The basement was bare. Only a few boxes and a love seat that hadn’t fit in the living room occupied the extra space. Colin clearly was not here.

Liv felt all of her energy drain away. Colin wasn’t here. She had known deep down that he wouldn’t be, but the affirmation was crushing. Her mother and father hadn’t been home. Jen and Corey were gone. And now she was alone again.

The stairs felt almost insurmountable to her once-again weary muscles. For a brief minute, Liv considered sleeping on the love seat, but decided that sleeping in her own bed was worth the trek upstairs.

As Liv shuffled through the living room, she looked around. It was a disaster. Not the world-ending disaster that reigned outside, but the kind of disaster a toddler could leave in her wake. Toys had been haphazardly thrown around. The carpet was a meshwork of crayons and plastic food.

When Liv had left a little more than four days ago, she had expected to come back home and tidy things up shortly before Elli went to bed. But they hadn’t come home. The toys had simply waited where they had been left.

She shuffled past the clutter and towards the bedroom. The bedroom wasn’t untouched by the toddler tornado. The blanket and sheets on the bed were not neatly laid out like the ones in her parents’ room. Instead, they were knotted with the comforter haphazardly over a jumbled mass of pillows.

Liv eased the sled off her back, along with the messenger bag, and rested them against the wall. She sat down on the mattress that had been placed on the floor. Gently, she unbuckled the straps of Elli’s carrier. Despite her slow motion, Elli clutched for Liv and began to cry.

“Shush, shush,” Liv crooned softly. She searched through the sheet and found a small, light-brown stuffed horse. Elli gripped the soft animal tightly when Liv pressed it into her hands. Colin had given the horse to Liv for her birthday one year, but early on Elli had become too attached to it. Now it was Elli’s.

Carefully, Liv eased Elli from the carrier and placed her towards the head of the bed. Arranging everything became a slow dance as she tugged the blankets from their tangled mass and shifted the pillows around Elli.

Her body sagged as she looked at the sleeping child. She unzipped her jacket and looked at the bloody mess it had become. It would have to be cleaned, not now.

With a groan, Liv stood up and marched over to the bathroom, tossing the jacket in the tub. Slowly, so as not to enrage her sore muscles, she removed the layers of clothing and tossed them into the tub on top of the jacket. The pants were a meshwork of blood and dirt. They were probably trash now.

Liv reluctantly turned towards the mirror and looked at her shadowy reflection. If she hadn’t known otherwise, she would have sworn that what looked back at her was a feral. Blood didn’t touch her skin, but her features had become gaunt from stress, lack of sleep, and poor eating. Dark circles encompassed her tired eyes. Her hair was knotted and stuck out wildly from her head.

The magazines formed a colorful patchwork across her skin. Bright images, mostly of homes more perfect than hers, food too beautifully presented to eat, and thin models promising the secrets to achieving their perfect bodies.

She looked closely at the images. The world’s obsession with appearing perfect. The perfect home. The perfect body to adorn with the perfect clothes. The perfect meals, presented to the world so people would believe you were perfect.

She didn’t want perfect. Maybe she had before, even if she hadn’t been willing to admit it. Now she just wanted her imperfect life back. Her imperfect house with the garage door that was on its last leg. Her imperfect husband who would try to go grocery shopping and forget half the list. The meals they would make, though not nearly as pretty as those in the pictures, were delicious all the same.

Liv took her knife and began slicing through the duct tape that held the magazines in place. If she was going to actually sleep in her bed tonight, she would be comfortable. She stacked the curled pages on the toilette seat, one by one, until she was free. Liv shook out her arms and legs, luxuriating in the freedom.

Back in the bedroom, she eased herself onto the bed, careful not to disturb Elli, and curled up around the child.

Just for a while, things were normal.

Day 5
2:47 am

The night had been fitful at best. The few times Liv had started to drift asleep, Jen’s screams had echoed through her mind, jolting her awake. Once she had fallen asleep, her dreams had been filled with ferals. Just like during the night they had hunted her, screamed for her flesh. But these ferals hadn’t been strangers. They were Corey and Jen, Colin, her mother and father, her grandmother, Jorden, Jay, and many other friends she’d had throughout her life.

After those few hours of sleep, Liv had been unable to close her eyes again. Instead, she slowly slid away from Elli and went to roam the house.

She looked over the smiling family photo that looked down at her from the walls. Between them, candid photos of Elli doing the sweet things that babies did. One photo had captured her with a wild, wide-mouthed smile of glee, her arm less than a second from obliterating a tall block tower. In another, she sat in Colin’s lap, both of their heads leaning back as they stuck out their tongues at the camera.

Liv turned in a circle, taking in all the pictures at once. What would happen to them? The ones on the wall were only a small fraction of the photos they had. A couple hundred more filled a plastic tub, and still more sat on a flash drive just waiting for the digital data to be converted to something tangible.

As the house sat vacant, what would happen to all the pictures, all the memories, of their family? How long could they stand against the elements? Liv’s heart broke as she thought of all the memories rotting away.

One by one, she pulled the frames from the wall. She took them downstairs, into the basement, and stacked them carefully in a small closet underneath the stairs. Hopefully, there they would be protected from the elements.

Now, the living room walls were barren and plain, their tan walls marred only by the nails that had held the pictures in place.

Liv repacked the bag. She traded out the clothes she had borrowed from the empty houses with her own clothes. Though it wasn’t much, it was nice to have her own clothes back, the same familiar shirts and pants she was used to. She restocked their food and added a few more supplies to the medicine stores.

She looked around the house again for something else to do. It didn’t look much different than the other houses that she had stayed at over the last few days. While the furniture was different, it was all relatively the same.

Those homes had been a godsend, providing her refuge when she needed it most. Would her home become a refuge for someone else?

In the laundry room, she found a half-full gallon of plum-colored paint that she and Colin had used to accent a wall in Elli’s room. She picked up an inch-wide foam paintbrush she had used to create clean lines around the edges. With her prizes in hand, she returned to the living room.

Though the sofa was large—large enough for her to stretch out comfortably on—it was light and she pushed it aside. One of the big walls that used to contain pictures was now entirely bare.

She shook the paint can vigorously, her strained muscles protesting the movement. When she thought the paint was mixed, she set it down on a plastic grocery bag on top of the coffee table. The paint was still partially separated despite being shaken, but she wasn’t painting the whole wall. She just needed to leave a message.

For a long time, Liv just stared at the wall as words roiled through her mind. There was so much she wanted to say and she would only have one chance to say it.

She submerged the paintbrush in the dark-purple paint and touched it to the wall. It stood out starkly against the soft, tawny beige. Even in the dim predawn light, she could see the spot.

She moved the brush quickly, only stopping to dunk it in the paint again. Whenever she pressed the newly wetted brush on the wall, the paint ran. The dark lines on the wall were hasty but they didn’t need to be perfect.

Welcome to our home.

If you’re tired, we have beds.

If you’re cold, we have clothes.

If you’re hungry, we have food.

If you need protection, we have walls.

May you find the comfort here that we once found.

Be quick. Be quiet. Be safe.

She stared at the wet paint. Tears rolled down her cheeks. As much as she wanted to believe that they would return, that this disaster would soon be righted, she didn’t. The world around them was changing.

It would never be the same.

Before Liv could stop it, sobs began to rip through her body and Liv sank to the floor. Her body shook as she let out every tear she had been holding back. Her vision was blurry as the tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

She missed Colin and her parents. She cried for Corey and Jen. For Nate and Lydia and Aaron. For the horde of infected children they had seen earlier that night. For the people trapped in the church. For those who had died on the highways. For her own fear and loneliness. For the future that would never be and the future that now lay ahead.

Liv pulled her knees in close, not trying to stop the tears as they poured out. She had turned on a faucet and she wasn’t sure she would be able to turn it off again.

Day 5
9:27 am

Elli had been asking for Colin all morning. The act only made Liv miss him more.

“Dada!” She ran through the house, her hands cupped around her mouth as she called.

“Daddy’s not home right now, sweetheart.” Liv forced a smile across her face, trying to pretend for all the world that it was a normal morning.

But it wasn’t normal.

It was the rare morning that Colin left for work before noon. What made it worse was that Elli knew about the break in the routine. She was used to Colin being home when she woke up. He wasn’t home now, though, and she knew something was wrong.

As she wandered around, Elli passed by the big letters sloppily painted across one of the living room walls. “Uh-oh.” She pointed at the letters.

“It’s alright,” Liv said gently.

She shoved diapers and extra binkies she hadn’t thought to grab last night into the already full bag. As a last thought, she picked up the stuffed horse and crammed it into the bag. It wasn’t overly large but it took up a decent amount of the precious space. Elli loved it, though. She would tote it around the house, running up to Liv and growling. Horses were vicious creatures after all.

At night, Elli would wrap herself around the fuzzy animal and nuzzle its mane as she drifted off to sleep. Even if the stuffed horse didn’t seem necessary, it gave Elli another small measure of comfort.

They had left a short time later.

Despite the events of the previous night, the streets had remained relatively clear of ferals. Apparently, they had not followed her closer to their home.

Liv easily picked her way out of the subdivision, not following any streets, and headed straight for Highway A. It wasn’t really a highway. Like Highway K, it was just a wide road, but it would lead her to Highway 61. They could follow that most of the rest of the way.

The highway was empty. Though it was never very busy, there had always been cars on it and the total emptiness now was eerie. The cars that had poured out of the city had disappeared behind her. Instead, they stood silently in the roadway. If the people had made it out of the city, they had left this place behind.

For the most part, even the cars stopped on the road were gone. Those that had made it this far were gone, and those who had gotten stuck in the snarled traffic were behind them.

Occasionally, a car sat abandoned by the side of the road. Once, Liv was brave enough to try the keys that still dangled in the ignition, but the battery had died and not even the radio would flare to life.

This was the case more often than not. Those who had planned to stop and walk away had taken their keys. Those who had simply fled had left the cars running. Now they were either out of gas or the battery was dead.

An arm suddenly reached out and snagged Liv’s ankle. The feral had been lying listlessly in the tall grass only to be reinvigorated as she passed by. It pulled itself towards her, its jaw agape as she tried to shake her foot free. As it pulled, Liv realized why the creature had been lying in the grass.

Its legs were missing.

Its whole lower half was missing.

She had seen some gory wounds on the ferals in the last few days, but this one made her stomach churn. Ropey entrails followed in its wake as it clawed at her foot, leaving a disgusting reddish-brown smear in the grass.

The feral gnashed its teeth up at her as she fumbled to free her mallet from its sling. When she couldn’t wrestle it free, she gave up on the mallet and pulled out her knife, quickly spearing the feral through the top of its head.

For a moment, she just stared down at the wretched creature. Bile suddenly rose in her throat and Liv spun and heaved into the grass. After a moment, she straightened and rinsed her mouth out with a bit of water.

She had thought that by now she would be over the horror of the creatures, but apparently she had been wrong. If she never saw another feral again, she would die a happy woman. But that seemed highly unlikely.

Liv wiped her mouth and moved on, leaving the feral where it had fallen in the grass.

On the horizon, a small dot rose up above the flat highway, just slightly off to the side. It was a way off still, and Liv couldn’t see what it was. Most likely another abandoned car.

As she neared, the shape began to resolve itself. Definitely a car. An SUV with its front fender crumpled against one of the barriers that lined the highway. The scarlet of the paint was stark against the golden brown of the grass that baked in the summer’s heat and the sun-faded gray of the asphalt.

Her steps quickened as she approached the vehicle. Even before she came close, she could see the tiny blue oval of the Ford logo on the back. An Explorer.

Just like the car her father drove.

The one that had been missing from the driveway.

A dozen yards from the vehicle she drew her mallet. It easily slid free and she was ready for any ferals that might be hiding around the hulking car. None were easily visible, but they might be in the car or hidden on the other side.

The front passenger-side door stood open. Liv warily stepped around the side of the car to glance inside from a distance. Nothing, at least not in the front seat.

Against her desire, she circled wide around the vehicle. The other side was clear of ferals as well. But the driver’s-side door stood open. A large pool of dried, rusty red blood sat just a few feet out from the door. Something had happened here but any people or ferals in the area were long gone.

Liv approached the car, cautiously peering in the backseat as she skirted the dried blood. Her heart thundered in her chest as she moved to the open driver’s-side door to take a closer look.

The inside of the car was a disaster. Items had been thrown around haphazardly, perhaps by the crash or whatever chaos had ensued. But most disturbing about the scene was the blood.

Everywhere.

It was splattered across the inside of the windshield, smeared across the dashboard, and soaked into the cloth seats. It all radiated out from the passenger’s seat.

Liv recoiled from the horrific scene. Someone had died here and they had died horribly. Her eyes flitted from spot to spot as she tried to take it all in, but couldn’t. There was too much.

After a moment, she leaned back into the car, searching for something to identify the owner with. Frustrated when her search turned up nothing, Liv moved around the car back to the passenger’s side.

Sometime during the crash or the ensuing struggle, the glove box had popped open. Now all the papers lay trampled on and crumpled. A cup of soda had been knocked over, reducing the papers to a mushy mess that had dried together as one solid mass. The wad crumbled under Liv’s fingers as she gently tried to peel back the layers.

Liv growled and tossed the useless papers back into the car. She threw open one of the back doors and began rifling between the bags, looking for a purse. It wasn’t on the seat. Frantically, she felt underneath the seats. There had to be something, anything, to identify who was in the car.

Her fingers brushed against something and she yanked it out. With a triumphant yell, she deposited a purse onto the seat. But the yell quickly quieted in her throat. The purse was large, almost more like a diaper bag, with a dozen pockets of different sizes and shapes. The outside was a pale beige made of soft, fake leather. The handles were short so it had to be carried in hand or on the arm rather than over the shoulder.

It was her mother’s purse.

Liv upended the purse. Its contents scattered across the seat. Some pens, a small notepad, a glasses case, some receipts, along with other odds and ends. No wallet. Liv shook the purse furiously, then jammed her hand in the bag, feeling for anything that might have gotten stuck. Nothing.

She flung the purse back into the car and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Mom!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “Dad!” Either they were here now or they had been here. She had to find them. Screaming might attract the ferals, but she was desperate.

“Mom! Dad! Are you out there?”

Nothing but silence returned.

She stepped away from the car. They had to have gone somewhere. But where? And how would she ever find them?”

“Mom!” She stepped off the edge of the road and into the grass. “Dad!” The toe of her boot rolled over something and she stumbled.

An arm.

It lay palm up between the blades of grass, the fingers curled slightly inward. The opaque, glossy nail polish was chipped. The hand and forearm had been ripped away from the body at the elbow. Tendons and ligaments and ripped muscles trailed raggedly away. Whatever color the arm had been when attached to the body, it had taken on a sickly greenish-gray hue.

Liv backed away from the appendage, her hand covering her mouth as if to hold in the gasp that threatened to escape. As she backed away, a twinkling on the hand made her stop and lean back in.

A ring.

A simple gold band wrapped around the hand’s ring finger. Liv knelt down next to the hand and rolled it over. The top side of the ring was a single, small diamond.

Liv sucked in a breath as she stared at the hand. The arm was plump with long plump fingers. The fake nails had been manicured but were now dirty and chipped. One finger was missing the nail entirely.

The hand and the ring had belonged to her mother.

Tears slid down Liv’s cheek as she reached for the hand. She didn’t want to touch it, but she wanted her mother’s ring. The ring had survived a lot. Thirty years of marriage. Several lost stones. Even being cut off once when her mother had broken her wrist and her hand had swollen up.

Liv tried not to look as she wrestled the ring off the severed arm. Finally, with a terrible tearing sound, the ring came free.

Liv opened one eye and then the other. Thin strips of flesh dangled from the ring. She stared at the floppy bits for a moment, unable to comprehend what she was looking at.

A shrill shriek ripped from her throat as Liv violently shook the ring, dislodging the clinging flesh. Tears streamed down her face and deep, gasping sobs shook her body as Liv looked at the bloodied trinket in her fingers.

Her hands quivered as she slipped the ring into a plastic bag and dropped it into one of the pockets of the satchel. Liv looked out to the horizon, wondering what had happened to her parents. Where had their infected bodies wandered to? What would have happened to her if they had still been around when she arrived?

Liv glanced down once more at the hand at her feet. Her mother’s hand. The sight of the purple, stringy muscles, exposed now that they had been stripped of their skin, was more than Liv’s stomach could handle.

For the second time that day, Liv bent over and retched.

When her heaving finally stopped, Liv removed her gloves. She wiped her eyes and looked around the deserted highway.

She had wanted so desperately to know how her friends and family were doing. But now she wasn’t sure that knowing was better. If it meant knowing that they were dead, that they had died horribly, she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to know.