Lost Read online

  THE COLLAPSE

  part two: lost

  V.A. Brandon

  Copyright © 2014 by V.A. Brandon

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced without express written permission from the author except in the case of brief excerpts embodied in published reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Story Description:

  Separated from Garrett, Amy and her friends must now venture out into the highway and make their way to the farm. The trip shouldn’t take longer than a day. It should be fairly easy.

  Except they run into cannibalistic Runners along the way.

  Lost, they wander down unfamiliar roads. Little do they know that, at the end of the path, they will find themselves stranded at the worst place they could possibly imagine.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 1

  The stink in the fruit and vegetable shop grew worse by the hour. Amy lay in the dark, trying to ignore the phlegmatic groans and hisses outside the small building. It was unsettling to know that a thin wall was all that stood between them and the Runners outside. How many of them were out there? Ten? Fifty? A hundred? Were the streets just teeming with them? She squeezed her eyes shut, willing them to go away. They sounded close. Far too close.

  A fly buzzed past Amy’s ear, and she jerked in fright. Even the smallest touch made her jumpy. She quickly sat up and squinted into the darkness. She could make out the sleeping outlines of her friends on the ground, but she couldn’t tell who was who. How could they sleep so peacefully with all that noise outside? Weren’t they afraid? With a heavy sigh, she lay down again, telling herself to calm down, when a soft rustling noise in the far corner caught her attention. It stopped, then began in earnest again. Fear turned to ice in her veins.

  Amy bolted up. “Who . . . who’s there?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mouth was dry. She swallowed painfully and tried again. “Who’s there?”

  “It is me,” Marie whispered back. “Please lower your voice, Amy. We must stay quiet.”

  “I know that,” Amy replied, annoyed and relieved at the same time. She rose to her feet and stumbled toward Marie’s voice, stretching her arms out before her. She tripped over a plastic fruit box, but managed to avoid falling flat on her face. When she reached Marie, she grabbed the young woman’s shoulders to balance herself.

  “I could not sleep,” Marie whispered as she rummaged around the fruit boxes. She bent down to sniff at something, then jerked back as she tossed it away. “Oh! That smells terrible. We cannot eat that.”

  “Is there anything left for us here?” Amy asked, faintly amused. “I thought the flies and ants took care of that.” She grabbed the nearest apple when Marie stopped her.

  “Be careful,” she warned. “There are maggots in some of them.”

  Gagging, Amy dropped the apple as though she had been burned.

  The two women fell silent as Marie dutifully checked the boxes for edible fruits that hadn’t been ravaged yet. Luckily for them, she found some oranges. They were pretty ripe, but at least they hadn’t started to rot.

  They sauntered over to the vegetable corner and were pleased to find edible potatoes, onions, carrots, and garlic. Marie immediately began filling clear plastic bags with them.

  “This is very good,” she said happily. “We will eat them for breakfast and save our canned food for another day.”

  They decided that each person should carry at least ten potatoes; more, if they didn’t mind the weight. It would feed them for an extra several days while they were on the road. Satisfied with the results, the two women sat cross-legged under a window, enjoying the scant moonlight that filtered in. Amy was profoundly grateful that the owner had thought to put up security bars over all the windows in the shop. It gave her a sense of protection, at the very least.

  “I feel bad about Ms. Wentworth,” Marie said softly. She looked into Amy’s eyes. “What happened in Justin’s apartment? Why was she fighting with Patrick?”

  Amy sighed and rubbed her face. “Patrick was trying to steal her food. It was always about the damn food.” Her gaze traveled over to the sleeping forms sprawled on the floor. Having adjusted to the dark, her eyes could now pick out which one was Patrick. The older man was lying on his back, looking as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Marie stared hard at Patrick. “Do you think we can trust him?”

  “No, I don’t,” Amy replied with a mirthless chuckle. “Not one bit.”

  “Does he have to come with us?” Marie asked carefully.

  Amy didn’t answer right away. She had been asking herself the same question ever since the accident with Ms. Wentworth. Why does he have to come with us? But then, how could they leave him? He wouldn’t survive one day without them. As annoying as he was, Amy didn’t want to be responsible for his death. And besides, there was another reason.

  “Justin won’t leave him behind,” she said finally. “It’ll just eat away at his conscience, until he decides to risk everyone’s life by coming back for him.”

  Marie ducked her head. “I am sorry. It was a terrible suggestion.” She paused. “I am usually not so mean-spirited.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Amy said with a wry smile. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about it. Heck, I even thought about tossing him off the balcony when Ms. Wentworth fell over.”

  Marie shook her head, not knowing what to say after that. Truthfully, Patrick brought out the worst in them. If they managed to reach the farm without killing anyone along the way, it would be a miracle.

  ***

  “Hey, wake up. It’s time for breakfast.” Patrick sounded irritated as he nudged a foot against Amy’s right hip. When she didn’t get up, he nudged her again. “What’s wrong with you? Are you sick or something?”

  Amy cracked open an eyelid. “Stop poking me with your foot. And yes, I am sick.” She sat up and glared at him. “I’m sick with worry, that’s what. We all are.”

  “Daniel and Marie made baked potatoes,” Justin quickly cut in, trying to defuse the tension. “We’ve got orange slices as well. So let’s eat.”

  The five of them sat on the floor and ate their meals in silence. Patrick devoured his potatoes, ignoring the rest of the group as he ate to his heart’s content. The rest of them ate slowly, each lost in his or her thoughts. Amy listened carefully as she bit into the soft, hot flesh of her potato. The streets sounded deserted. Maybe they would be able to sneak into the car park and get Justin’s jeep. With a glimmer of hope, she hurriedly finished her potato and reached for another one.

  “So, you think Garrett will come back for us?” Patrick asked, wiping his hands on his pants.

  Justin shook his head. “I doubt it. It’s more likely that we’ll meet up somewhere along the highway. We’ll have to find our own transportation out of here.”

  “We do not even know if Garrett and Benson made it,” Daniel said, shooting a worried glance at his wife. He knew that Marie had taken a strong maternal liking to the kid. “The last time we saw them, there were Runners hanging onto the campervan.”

  Patrick snorted. “Oh, please. If Garrett can’t even handle a couple of Runners, then we’re better off on our own.”

  When Amy opened her mouth to protest, Justin reached out and squeezed her arm. He shot her a stern glance. Not now, his eyes warned
. She glared at him, but complied all the same. This wasn’t the place to have their usual petty arguments.

  Daniel carefully peeked out of the window. “I cannot see the Runners.” He turned to look at Justin. “When do you want to get your jeep?”

  “Right now, if we can,” Justin answered as he stood up to join Daniel at the window. He glanced at the rest of the group. “Is that okay with everyone?”

  Nods all around. With that settled, they slung their stuffed backpacks over their shoulders and picked up their weapons. It was time to leave this place.

  “All right, Daniel and I will go and get the jeep. Be prepared and wait for us here. As soon as you see us, run.” When the others didn’t reply, Justin and Daniel stepped out of the storage room door, holding their weapons in front of them. The rest of them trailed behind, their nervous eyes darting this way and that to make sure that there weren’t any Runners lurking about. With a sly grin, Patrick positioned himself between Amy and Marie, since he had no weapons. Amy shook her head in disgust and walked on.

  The three of them squatted in front of the shop, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible while Justin and Daniel crouched and ran across the street. Soon, they disappeared into the dark car park. Amy’s gaze wandered, then froze as it landed on a severed hand on the sidewalk near the apartment building. Some of the fingers were clad in cheap jewelry.

  It was Ms. Wentworth’s hand.

  Amy bit back a groan, but the sound managed to escape from her lips, anyway. Be quiet! she scolded herself, but the whimper came again. And again.

  Patrick jerked in fright. “What’s making that noise?”

  Belatedly, Amy realized that the sound hadn’t been coming from her. The whimpering grew stronger, a familiar noise made by many lovable pets. Understanding dawned on her. Could it be . . . ?

  “It is Walter!” Marie whispered as she lowered her head to look under a parked car.

  At first, Amy could only see a dark-colored backpack beneath the car. Then she noticed the furry black face poking out from the unzipped top, its shiny eyes staring back at them.

  It was Walter. And the poor thing had been outside all night, in the presence of the Runners.

  With a breathless cry, Marie crawled over to the car and reached under to grab the bag. As soon as she pulled the bag to her chest, Walter arched forward and began licking her face in earnest, grateful to see a familiar face. Marie crawled back to them, looking relieved as she hugged the dog even closer.

  Amy nudged Marie’s backpack toward Patrick. “Since you aren’t carrying anything, you might as well help out with this,” she said, raising her brows. “Marie has to carry Walter.”

  To her surprise, Patrick nodded and quickly slung the heavy bag over his shoulders without complaint. She wondered if Patrick was finally willing to help out, but that thought soon vanished when he smirked at her.

  “All the food in this bag is mine now. Just so you know.”

  “You really want to play that game?” Amy shot back. “Because once you hog that food, you won’t be getting any of the food in our bags when you run out. You’ll have to scrounge more from elsewhere.”

  It seemed Patrick hadn’t considered that. His face reddened with anger, but he clamped his mouth shut and didn’t say anything. It was just as well, because Justin’s jeep suddenly burst out into the morning light, weaved, then came to a screeching halt about twenty yards from where they were squatting.

  Daniel threw open the door. “Get in!” he yelled, frantic.

  Several Runners ran out of the car park, snarling as they picked up speed. When Patrick saw them, he yelped and raced toward the waiting vehicle, not looking back to see if Amy and Marie were following.

  Amy pushed Marie forward. As the two women sprinted toward the car, Patrick slid into the back seat and impulsively shut the door closed.

  “Damn it, Patrick! What are you doing?” Justin shouted as he whirled around in the driver’s seat. Voices rose and a brief struggle ensued as Daniel leaned over to open the door again.

  Marie and Amy slid in once the door opened, and Amy hurriedly shut the door after her, breathless with fear.

  “Go! Go!” Patrick shouted, then screamed as something slammed into the windshield behind them. Amy tossed a frightened glance over her shoulder and saw spider cracks spreading over the glass panel. Several more hits, and there would be nothing more than splintered pieces of glass stuck around the window frame.

  The Runner rammed his head into the panel again. On the third attempt, his bleeding head pierced through the glass, causing mindless chaos inside the jeep. Walter barked ferociously, foaming at the snout.

  “Step on it, damn you!” Amy yelled at Justin, clawing at his head to grab his attention. A thudding noise sounded on the roof, snapping Justin out of his trance. He slammed on the gas pedal and barreled down the street, knocking down a stray Runner idly wandering near the intersection.

  Chapter 2

  A minute later, Daniel put a hand on Justin’s shoulder. “You do not have to go so fast,” he said quietly. “I think we are safe now.”

  Justin released a long exhale and nodded. As the jeep slowed down, Daniel shifted to stare incredulously at his wife.

  “I heard a dog barking.” His tone was wary, as though he were questioning his sanity.

  Marie smiled happily. “We found Walter! He was under a parked car.”

  At the sound of his name, the dog poked his head out of the bag again. When Daniel laughed in amazement, the dog whined and leaned over to lick his hand.

  “What happened to Garrett and Benson?” Justin wondered aloud as he looked at them through the rearview mirror. “How did Walter end up underneath the car?”

  No one wanted to speculate. Patrick, however, had no qualms about voicing their innermost fears.

  “Maybe the Runners got them. You saw the way the Runners were hanging onto the campervan, didn’t you?” He settled into his seat, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. “You see, folks, this is what happens when you desert your friends to save your own miserable hide. I, for one, say good riddance to that selfish bastard.”

  Marie glared at him. “You talk too much. You are truly the worst person I have ever met.”

  Patrick squeezed Marie’s thigh in a suggestive manner. “Sweetheart, you need to do what you do best – sit there like a pretty doll and shut up. No one cares what you think.”

  “Don’t touch my wife.” Daniel leaned over and knocked Patrick’s hand away, his eyes sparking with barely concealed fury. Amy had never seen him so angry before. A small part of her wanted to see how this would play out, but she knew it was time to put their conflict to rest. At this rate, it would get pretty intense in the car real quick.

  “Patrick, how quickly you forget.” Amy flashed a fake smile. “We’re going to the farm that belongs to Garrett’s friend. That’s right – Garrett’s friend. If you despise our neighbor so much, maybe we should just part ways right now. I mean, he’s basically our ticket to that farm.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Is there a place where we can drop you off?”

  Patrick appeared startled for a brief second, then shot her a sour look as the truth of her words sank in. There was nowhere for him to go. It was imperative that he remain on Garrett’s good side, in and out of earshot. And pray that the man was still alive.

  Blessed silence fell inside the jeep. Amy closed her eyes, relishing the peace and the soft vibrations of the moving vehicle. When Walter whined softly for attention, she snapped open her eyes and smiled at the dog.

  “I have no doubt that Garrett and Benson are fine,” she said, stressing on Benson’s name as she looked at Marie. “Walter probably rolled out of the open door when the campervan weaved around the street. In fact, I bet they’re on the highway now, waiting for us at a safe spot.”

  Everyone liked the sound of that. Cheered by the thought, Justin popped in a CD and sang off-key to an old ‘80s song that sounded vaguely familiar to Amy. He was so tone-deaf that Marie st
arted giggling behind her hand. Amy shook her head, smiling, but inwardly, she felt uneasy. She hoped she was right. She prayed that Garrett and Benson were safe and waiting for them. Otherwise, their little group was on their own, and they had nowhere to go.

  ***

  It was midday by the time they reached Great Memorial Highway. Patrick sat in the back, demolishing three baked potatoes, skin and all. Walter barked at him, but the older man ignored the hungry dog and stared out the window, quickly draining two-thirds of his water bottle.

  Daniel sighed and reached into his bag, pulling out one baked potato. He gazed up at Marie, a wry smile on his face.

  “It is the last cooked potato in my bag,” he informed her.

  She shook her head. “Give it to Walter. I am not hungry,” she said, even as her stomach growled in angry protest. She blushed and cleared her throat. “I am not hungry,” she repeated, as though trying to convince her empty stomach.

  “It’s lunchtime, and we have to eat,” Justin interrupted. He pointed toward a small, hilly spot beside the highway. “Why don’t we take a rest over there? We can open some of the cans and have a hearty meal.”

  Minutes later, they sat on the springy grass and basked in the afternoon sun, eating cold spaghetti out of the can. Daniel found Walter’s bag of kibbles squashed into the bottom of his backpack. There was still plenty left for the dog. Walter wagged his tail furiously and buried his nose into the crinkled bag.

  “Not yet. You need some water first,” Marie said, running a hand through the dog’s slightly matted fur. A few steps away, Patrick watched silently as the dog lapped up the water Marie had poured into her cupped hand. His lips were pressed together, the splotchy skin around the edges indicating his irritation.

  Amy scooted closer to Justin. “What happened back there?” she asked, scrapping the bottom of the can with her spoon. She slurped the last bloated strands of pasta into her mouth. “You kind of froze in your seat.”