Novels2Search

6: Survivor

Cassandra knelt before the fire pit, poking at the gray circle of stones and the burning logs inside with a stick absentmindedly. She sighed, her thoughts dwelling on the altercation that had occurred the night before. It had been a stupid fight, over a stupid game, with even stupider people. She knew it shouldn’t have bothered her so much, but she had felt the need to get out of Greir regardless.

The flickering bonfire cast shadows against the crushed cars around her, reflecting light against small parts of chrome not yet tarnished by the all-consuming rust that plagued the rest of the junkyard. An outer fence with barbed wire divided the outlying woods from the yard, and the smashed vehicles served as a hiding place. Even on moonless and black nights, no one could see the glow of the fire inside their alcove at any angle, even above. As uncomfortable as it was to have rusting metal balancing on the wreckage above her head, Cassie believed this was one of the safest places around besides Greir. The only way in or out of the camp was through an old school bus rigged with booby traps.

As the water in the black pot began to boil, her stomach growled. It had been since before their early morning departure she had eaten last and the ten miles she had put behind her made the hunger worse. As if to answer the pangs in her belly, the door to the bus groaned open and a blue heeler came padding towards her, tail wagging so hard he nearly bent his body in half. Cassie smiled, turning her attention to pet Scout and baby talk the good boy with admiration. He licked her hands in greeting, then settled down beside her, panting with his tongue out.

Behind the dog came a man in cargo pants and a long-sleeved camo jacket, cradling a small rifle in one arm, and holding out three squirrels by their bushy red tails in the other. A proud smile stretched across his face.

“Thank goodness,” Cassie said, taking the squirrels eagerly and setting them on a makeshift car-hood table. “I was just about to whip up my mud pie special, and I know how much you love those.”

Dan laughed, then took off his baseball cap and wiped the sweat off his brow with his arm. “Oh, yeah. What a shame. Can’t remember the last time I munched down on an earthworm and enjoyed it, but I bet you could eat a whole plate full considering it’s your specialty. You probably wouldn’t even mind letting me have your squirrel, you love it so much.”

Cassie couldn’t think of a clever retort, so she let it go with nothing but a smile. Since Dan had found and brought the food back to camp, cleaning and cooking the animals was her duty, and one her stomach demanded she begin quickly. As she worked, Dan settled down into a seat made from rubber tires, leaning back with a loud groan that made him appear older, and more dad-like, than he actually was. He was in his lower thirties and not a very serious guy, especially when it came to relationships, and seemed to prefer only the occasional fling rather than being romantically attached to anyone for a time long enough to become a father.

Even so, a small part of Cassie regarded him as her own. Dan had always been there for her, helping her work through her own emotions and guiding her when she needed it most. It was Dan who had suggested that she come along with him on this supply run, and Cassie had taken the opportunity to get away from Greir and the other teens who had tried to pick on her and get her upset for their own entertainment. The trip was a welcome reprieve from that drama, to heck with the the chances of danger.

Cassie dropped the cleaned meat into the boiling water, then added salt, flour, and cayenne pepper seasoning to make something of a thick squirrel gravy and make the small amount of food a bit more filling. They had brought a few cans of old beans along with them, but they wouldn’t open those until they were absolutely needed. Maybe not at all if they could help it.

“You know,” Dan said, sitting upright, “you get much better at starting fights ‘ol Sarge is gonna put you on tunnel duty to burn the fire out of you.”

“I did not start anything!” Cassie argued. “They asked me about my family. I don’t want to talk about it. Never have, never will, and they know that but continue to pry and make up dumb rumors. Evaline came up with some baloney about how I’m a human-turtle mutant raised by a ninja gutter rat, and I’m only upset and ornery all the time because I lost my shell. I mean, who thinks up stuff like that?”

Dan tried his best to stifle a laugh, but when it slipped through and Cassie grew cross, he apologized and said, “Come on, Cass. Evaline didn’t come up with that, it’s from an old show. Besides, you were playing spin the bottle, what did you expect? Especially with those kids. And what’s the harm in just telling them anyway? If anything, it would stop them from coming up with new rumors. Maybe they’d let up on you.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know it’s from a show. But you’ve said it before; you give an inch they take a mile. I’m not budging. My past is mine alone. They just want to rub it in my face that I’m the only orphan in Grier.”

“Those kids are jerks, but I don’t think they’re malevolent like that.” Dan let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Just do me a favor and think about it. If it gets much worse, I’m afraid I’ll have to tell them. I can’t stand those kids picking on you all the time because then I have to hear about it. And I don’t like to hear about it. You could stop it if you’d only open up a little and stop being so stubborn.”

Cassie groaned, refusing to argue about it any more. They sat and watched the fire in silence until the squirrel thickened and softened enough to come off the bone easily. The salted taste of wild game, followed by the slight spice of the pepper, was a welcome feeling in her belly despite the pitiful amount. Dan and her had split the food evenly, preferring to feed Scout a portion of the kibble they had brought with him. As the dog ate, Cassie stroked his fur and thought about what Dan had said. She knew he was right, but swore she would not budge. They did not speak the rest of the night.

Soon, the chill of early morning was upon them. Cassie rose and woke the others, Dan groaning and Scout wagging his tail happily. The fire was little more than ash and a single tendril of rising smoke, but they did not re-kindle it. As they rolled up their sleeping bags, Dan said, “So, our list of duties include the grocery store on 9th street for cans, the repair shop off of the interstate for welding rods and wire, and the courthouse parking garage for gas. How long has it been since you’ve been out?”

Cassie thought about it. Most of the time she stuck to smaller tasks around Grier and never ventured outside. “Probably three months,” she guessed.

Dan paused, eyeing her with worry.

“I know the rules,” she said. Pointing to her fingers, she counted them off: “Don’t walk down the middle of a road, or at least stay on the sides. Don’t try to peace talk your way out of an encounter, run. Hide in basements, not on a main or second level. If they are heavily armored traversing stairs is a risk they won’t often take, and if you’re upstairs when they blow up the building you’re dead. And finally, don’t get stung. Oh, and aim for the face.”

Dan nodded, seemingly pleased with her recital of the codes that kept them alive, then handed over the rifle he had used the night before. Cassie took in her arms and cycled the bolt. Small in calibre, low in recoil and sound, and an easy seeing scope made it perfect for plinking holes in the glass viewports on the bugs’ helmets. Dan’s weapon, on the other hand, was a shotgun loaded with scatter-shot ammo for the exact same reason. They had learned early on that brute-force rounds capable of punching through armor wasn’t worth the effort it took to find ammo for those firearms. Instead, being stealthy and precise was often the better tactic. Or at least that’s what Cassie had heard from the others.

“All right. Let’s head out,” Dan said as he threw his pack on his shoulders. “Should only take a few hours to gather what we need if we’re lucky.”

She nodded and followed, putting Scout between them before stepping up into the bus and re-setting tripwires as they left their cozy hideaway. The skies were clear, the yellow glow on the horizon just beginning to illuminate the metal graveyard. Birds were chirping from the woods that surrounded the chainlink perimeter. There wasn’t a thing in the world Cassie liked more than the early morning peace of a quiet world.

And that’s what it was, for the most part. Quiet and lonely. Hiding underground in cramped quarters with the rest of the survivors in Grier was suffocating, but being outside when so little of the old world remained made it feel like an adventure. There was excitement in her veins, ever present so long as the possibility of danger clung to the back of her mind. Of all the years she had been on her own and then with the other residents, she felt as though this year was the safest of them all. She remembered thinking the exact same thing the year before, and the year before that one, too.

It seemed to her that the more time that went by, the chances of her running into a patrol and dying appeared to be lessening. Based on the opinions of others, and of her own, the Culicidae had gone from a constant presence after their first appearance on Earth, to an occasional occurrence. They were still dangerous, and living was still nothing like it had been before the initial attack, but Cassie wanted to believe that for some reason the aliens were dying out. Her pessimism and lack of proof was the only thing holding her back from truly committing to the idea, but there was hope.

The three of them made their way though the junkyard, passing by the wrecked heaps of rusting metal until they stepped through the chainlink gate. Staying to the side of the old dirt road and just inside the tree line, they were safe from aerial patrols underneath the autumn canopy. The cool breeze rustled the leaves above, and at her feet, as Scout veered off only slightly to sniff the ground. He was well trained, never going too far away or out in the open.

Within a half a mile they reached the outskirts of Cleveland. Passing between houses and sticking to the alleyways, the town was mostly abandoned, and as expected, silent. If anyone lived there, they did well not showing signs of life and habitation, such as a running generator or the tilled earth of outdoor gardens. Just as Cassie was beginning to think that this place had managed to avoid the destruction of the invasion, she noticed that an old victorian house down the road was a complete wreck.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The whole side of the home was missing, exposing the upper and main level’s interior to the outside world. Debris littered the lower floor, upstairs a little girl’s bedroom was painted pink, and the office next to it had an entire wall of crumbling bookshelves. The edges of lumber where the house yet remained were singed black and circular in shape like a giant ice-cream scoop had gutted the home.

“Disintegration blast,” Dan said, noticing her pause to look at the home. His eyes were tender and sensitive as he examined her. “Hopefully no one was inside.”

“Yeah,” Cassie murmured. Disheartened by the sight, she turned back towards their destination and began to walk again.

In a single file line, they walked down the sidewalk of Center Street, hugging the buildings as tightly as possible. There were no trees and no big vehicles to hide their presence, which unnerved her a bit, but they pressed on for two blocks. As they had suspected, a small mom-and-pop grocery store was nestled between Scarlett’s Curious Curiosities and Bike Tech on the main strip. The Cleveland General Store was a red-brick building, and to her dismay, the front windows were all shattered.

With a sigh and crunching glass underfoot, Cassie led the way inside. A single register and counter sat on her left, and rows of empty metal shelves were lined up before her. A thick layer of dust coated everything. The cool outside air blew against the nape of her neck sent chills down her spine. Entering one of the aisles, she said, “Empty, empty, empty,” with distaste.

“Now hold your horses, we just got here. Give it a minute,” Dan said as he put Scout down on the tiled floor a safe distance from the shattered glass. “I bet someone hid some cans they couldn’t carry somewhere nearby. Don’t be crawling into your turtle shell just yet.”

Cassie glared at Dan, who grinned, unperturbed, and stepped down a different aisle. With a groan, she began the search, sifting through disarrayed boxes and trash and occasionally wiping dust with her sleeve as she went. Looking above the shelves by jumping, and underneath by laying on her belly, she hoped to find at least one unexpired silver can. Instead, she found a single jar of peanut butter wedged beneath a shelving unit. With a groan, she pulled it free and lurched to her feet.

When she reunited with Dan and Scout at the end of the aisle, she waved it in the air with glee. “Look what I found, boy!” She let Scout sniff the plastic container, who licked it, then turned away. Cassie was surprised.

“He probably doesn’t even recognize it,” Dan said with a shrug.

“Here, I’ll just give him—“ Cassie stopped unscrewing the jar, then sighed. “I better wait, huh?”

Dan nodded, and that was it. Until they absolutely needed the peanut butter, it had to remain sealed to retain whatever shelf life was left. Once it was exposed to air, it would begin to spoil.

Searching the rest of the general store and the apartment on the second level provided them with a few other good finds; two boxes of fettuccine, a can of tomato paste, a half-empty box of graham crackers, and a handful of individually wrapped beef sticks. While their collection wasn’t much of a treasure trove, it was enough to feed them during their supply run and at least have something to turn in to the kitchen staff at Grier. The pasta was the most valuable, so Dan and her agreed to save that.

“All right,” Dan said as he handed Cassie Scout over the glass-strewn window frame, “gas time.”

Placing the dog on the sidewalk, a safe distance from the shattered glass, Cassie nodded. This time, she knew where they were headed. Half a block down towards the center of town sat a concrete parking complex adjacent to the courthouse. When Dan had clambered his way safely out of the general store, they began the short trek down the sidewalk and arrived at the gate within minutes.

To the left and the right, cars and trucks sprinkled this level’s slow incline upwards. They ignored the first dozen, seeing that the gas covers had been left open and knowing that most likely someone else had already siphoned the gasoline out of those. But as they followed the ramp, turned around to ascend the other way, they failed to find a single undisturbed vehicle.

“Has someone been through all of these?” Cassie asked. “One of our guys has been here before, right?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, his expression grim as he turned away from the open gas cap of a red sports car. “William was out here less than a month ago. He said there was still gas to be had, so I guess we just press on.”

And they did, up through the second level and into the third and final ramp. The parking complex was not packed, but filled enough to make it a disappointment that every single car so far had been tampered with. As her mind stirred and struggled with negative emotions, she thought about how she had never had the chance to learn how to drive. Even in Grier, her lack of experience resulted in her being held back from the occasional drive when an emergency justified the heightened risk of driving on an open road. She sighed. “You’ve driven before, right?”

“Not for a long time, but I used to have an old Corvette for cruisin’ back in the day. It wasn’t much, I was mostly after the name when I bought it, but I loved that car. Doesn’t get much better than a road trip with a soda in the cupholder, a bag of these flaming hot triangle chips, and an even hotter chick in the passenger seat, if you know what I’m getting at.” Dan winked, then turned away. “Man, what I wouldn’t give…”

“T-M-I, Dan. I don’t need to know about your pre-invasion pass-times.”

He chuckled, slung his shotgun over his other shoulder, then stopped where he stood. Ahead, the ramp inclined upwards to the parking garage’s last level; the rooftop. Light shined down through the opening, but the sky above had slowly turned gray and cloudy as they spent their time in Cleveland. He bit his lip, considering something, then asked, “What do you think? We take a chance and head up there?”

“I don’t know, you’re the boss.”

Dan hummed. “We’ll just take a quick peek and see if anything is up there. Stay to the sides of the ramp.”

Cassie commanded Scout to sit. She didn’t want him running out into the open ahead of them. Using an open palm, she told him to stay as they made their way up. When her head cleared the concrete roof she saw a single dark blue SUV almost fifty yards away. It was near the edge of the building, and the only vehicle on the top level. Cassie began to turn around, thinking it was not worth the risk or the time, when Dan held out a hand and said, “Hold on.” He was biting at his lip again, thinking. “The gas cover is still on. I can see it from here.”

“Ehh… I don’t know. It’s way out there and there’s nowhere to hide. We’re several stories up, too. Do you think it’s worth the risk?”

Dan teetered on his feet, anxious as he went through the mental gymnastics necessary to justify it. “We only need two gallons. It won’t take but five minutes.”

“You sure?” Cassie asked. “No take-backsies.”

He grinned. “Yeah, come on. We’ll do this quick.”

Cassie signaled to Scout, who came padding up the ramp, and they took off towards the lone car. Racing towards it, her legs strained. As tired as she was, it felt good to stretch them out and work them up. In moments they were beside the SUV, Dan kneeling as he pulled the clear siphoning tube from his backpack. Cassie threw hers on the ground, then opened the gas cover and cap with deft fingers. The tube went in, down to the bottom of the tank, and Dan got the siphon started with his mouth. He spat gasoline, then gagged a little as he inserted the tube into his one gallon milk jug. Cassie dug hers out of her bag, then turned and leaned her back against the car, standing on lookout. From up here, it seemed she could almost see the whole city of Cleveland stretched out before her. She would have been willing to bet it was a nice place to live back in the day.

Scout barked, then barked again. A touch of fear rippled through Cassie. “What? What is it, boy?” She scanned all around, but couldn’t see anything. Not on the ramp they had come from, on the streets below, or in the skies above.

“Shut him up,” Dan commanded. His hands were shaking as he moved the tube from his jug to Cassie’s. “He’s going to give us away.”

And then she heard it: the high-pitched whine of alien machinery just moments before the black craft breached the cloud cover, angling down towards them. Elliptical in shape, the thrusters on the bottom and sides glowed a pale green. The monstrous shuttle floated towards them almost lazily, an illusion caused by its size and distance. She knew, in reality, the ship was miles away and zipping through the air towards them.

“We’re already spotted!” Cassie screamed.

Dan looked up, his eyes growing wide as he cursed. “We gotta get out here.” Removing the tube and letting it hang and drain gas onto the concrete, he fumbled as he screwed the cap back on the jug and tossed it to her. Cassie stuffed it into her bag, then threw it over her shoulder, but by the time she looked back at the ship it was already upon them, slowing down as it moved to intercept them. A blaring tone echoed across the town, oppressive and terrifying. Panels on the bottom of the ship slid open, and Cassie did not want to stay around to find out what it would drop. She began to run towards the ramp, urging Scout to follow her.

“Quick!” Dan yelled as he began to run towards the nearby edge.

“Where are you going?” Cassie yelled, pausing mid-stride.

He ripped a bundle of paracord from a pouch on the side of his bag, thick and red, then motioned to a power cable strung between the parking garage and a telephone pole below. “No time to argue,” he said, cutting the cord with his knife into two three-foot lengths. “We won’t make it all the way through and out of the garage before we’re cornered in here. Use this cord to zipline down. I’ll get Scout one-handed right behind you.”

“You can’t carry Scout with one hand and hang on with the other! You’ll fall!”

Dan pushed her to the suspended cable, threw her section of paracord over it and motioned for her to take it. She did, hands shaking as she prepared to launch herself from the top floor. Butterflies filled her stomach as she looked down off the edge to the street below.

“Better to fall than get trapped,” Dan said. “Now do as your ninja gutter rat master taught you and cowabunga it!”

He pushed her. Cassie screamed and cussed Dan out as the safety of the concrete ledge disappeared and gravity took her. She swore she thought she was going to plummet to the ground beneath her, but the power cable and the paracord in her hands held strong. In seconds she was across the street, lifting her legs to brace against the impact of the telephone pole. She stopped herself, feet and knees stinging slightly, then let go of the cord, wrapped her arms around the pole, and slid to the ground. Even though fear commanded her every move, she was surprised and impressed with herself for pulling it off.

She turned back, looked up at the top of the parking garage above her. From this angle, she couldn’t see the space ship, but knew that it had to be right on top of them if it hadn’t landed somewhere nearby. The whining of its engines was loud and clear, echoing off the buildings around her.

Dan appeared above her, stepping up onto the concrete barrier of the top level with Scout scooped up into his right arm. The dog was barking, fighting to be free of his grip. Cassie tensed, concerned for the both of them and afraid she was about to witness one or both of them falling to their death.

A low thrumming sound filled the air, building up as it increased in pitch. A wash of green color blossomed underneath Dan, glowing like radiation, and tearing through the concrete as he tried to throw himself to the side. She watched his footing crumble, disintegrate into black dust in the blink of an eye. The power cable flopped onto the street in front of her, useless now. It happened so fast, her brain couldn’t register what had happened to Dan and where he had went. Had it got him? She couldn’t believe it.

Faintly, from above she heard a voice say, “We’re okay! Get out of here, Cassie!”

Cassie swallowed. As much as fear racked her body, she could not leave Dan and Scout to die or be captured. She loved them both, and couldn’t imagine living in Greir without them. With a shaking voice, she shouted, “I’m coming!” and took off across the street, heading towards the parking gate entrance.

Cowabunga it is.