Apocalyptic Visions Super Boxset (168 page)

***

The shades were barely cracked, letting in a few rays of light. Jung sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the corner. His kids were still asleep.

He liked it when they slept. He didn’t have to think about them, or worry about them needing anything. They were so still. A part of him wished they could sleep forever. He didn’t want them to see the world they lived in anymore.

Jung reached into his pocket, pulling out his prayer beads. He rolled them between his fingertips, feeling the smooth wood on his skin. He wasn’t sure why he still had them. Whatever God he prayed to stopped listening.

He shoved the beads back into his pocket and paced the room. He was always restless. He hadn’t slept or eaten anything in days; that need had vanished. The only thing he wanted to do now was waste away. He wanted to drift off as his children did every night, but he never wanted to wake up.

Those terrifying moments when he did drift off to sleep, he would be holding his wife’s lifeless body in his hands, begging for her to come back.

There was no escaping what happened. It haunted him while he dreamed, and it tortured him while he was awake.

Jung bent down slowly, picking up a nearly empty bottle of liquor. That was the one thing he couldn’t get enough of. Whatever he could do to numb himself he indulged in.

He did have some pills he managed to steal from the pharmacy, but Fay found them and tossed them down the drain. She’d come by every day to check on him and the kids.

The thought of someone else taking care of his children used to be such a ludicrous idea, but now he was glad someone was there to make sure his children were safe, although he wasn’t sure how much longer that was going to last.

He knew that Mike and the rest of the group were planning to head to Cincinnati soon. A week ago he would have been going with them, but not now.

Jung thought back to their first meeting at the airport. He remembered the talks the two of them had about family, and keeping faith.

Mike didn’t have to help him, but he did. Mike opened up his home, his supplies, and his protection to Jung’s family and he repaid Mike by spitting in his face.

The need to protect his own family blinded him to everything else. The moment he tied Mike’s family up at gunpoint, along with the rest of the group, leaving them to die at the hands of the bikers, was the point of no return.

There wasn’t a doubt in Jung’s mind that Mike wanted to kill him. He wasn’t sure what was stopping him, but he wished Mike would come and finish the job. Maybe that was his punishment though, a fate worse than death: to live with the guilt and shame of losing his faith.

The sound of the Jeep’s engine outside snapped him out of the stupor. He kept the bottle of liquor in his hand as he walked to the window. He pulled back the curtain slightly and peeked down into the motel’s parking lot. He could see Sam, Nelson, and Kalen by the bikes. Fay and Mike were talking by the Jeep. 

If the Jeep was working they’d be leaving any day now. He drew the curtain back and set the liquor bottle on the carpet.

***

The grave marker rose from the earth like a lump, nestled between two trees. The branches provided good shade. Billy and his family decided to lay Ken to rest here, next to his hunting spot, where he started his day every morning.

Billy had visited the grave every day since his father was buried. He never set out to start his morning hunts here, but each time he began walking into the forest his feet led him there with a mind of their own.

His mother and younger brother still hadn’t forgiven him for what he did. Every time he tried to explain himself he would be greeted with the same disgusted look. He just stopped trying after a few days.

He couldn’t force them to listen to him. Deep down he knew they knew what kind of man his father was. If Billy hadn’t done something to stop him, more people would have been hurt.

The sound of a gunshot would wake him each night. It was never real, but he couldn’t stop the dreams from coming. Each time he closed his eyes, and laid his head to rest, he would see the bullet he fired from his own gun flying through his father’s chest.

The dreams never ended with his father dying though. Screams of betrayal and hate flew from the mouths of his mother and brother. Then he would wake up with a cold sweat covering his body, shaking.

Billy wasn’t sure how long the nightmares would last. Maybe it was something that would always be there, hanging over his head.

The rest of the morning was spent hunting game. He enjoyed being out in the woods now, more than he did before his father died. Whenever he went hunting with his dad it felt malicious, void of anything good.

Now, he felt a purpose to it. The skills he learned were put into practice to provide food for his family. He no longer felt the pang of guilt every time he sent a bullet through a bird, squirrel, or deer.

After nabbing two turkeys, Billy called it a day. He was on his way back to the farm when he bumped into Joey, who had a string of squirrels and rabbits on his belt.

Joey hadn’t said a word to him since they buried their father. In fact, the two had barely seen each other. Neither of them wanted to discuss what their minds were begging to say.

“Nice haul,” Billy said.

Joey had his gun over his shoulder. He said nothing. He brushed past Billy and kept walking.

That’s how their relationship was now. Whatever brotherly bonds the two of them had had ended with their father’s last breaths.

“Hey, we need to talk,” Billy said.

“No, we don’t.”

Billy grabbed Joey’s shoulder and spun him around.

“Yes, we do,” Billy said.

“What’s there to talk about? You want to tell me what it was like to kill Dad? You want me to forgive you? I’ll never forgive you. I hate you. I HATE YOU!”

Joey squirmed free from Billy’s grip and ran. Joey wove in and out of the trees until Billy couldn’t see him anymore.

The last bit of hope started to dissipate out of him. His brother wasn’t going to forgive him. That hate would burn in him for a long time. The only thing Billy wasn’t sure of was if he’d still be alive when his brother’s hate finally burned out.

***

The front door was open when Billy made it back to the farm and the house was empty. He walked out back and could see his mother coming from the barn with the pelts from the rabbits and squirrels Joey brought back.

Beth’s hands and apron were bloody. She looked older than she did before, rougher. The small hunch she had seemed more prominent. It was as if she was retreating within herself.

“Joey still back there?” Billy asked.

His mom didn’t answer. She didn’t even look at him. A few minutes later Joey appeared, heading in his direction with the meat from his game, following their mother’s example in silence.

Billy spent the next hour cleaning the turkeys. When he walked back into the kitchen his mother was canning the squirrel meat. He dropped the cuts on the counter. Beth picked them up and threw them in the garbage.

“Hey!” Billy said.

Beth slammed the knife into the counter. The force of the blow caused Billy to pause before reaching for the meat.

“It’s a waste if we don’t eat it,” Billy said.

“We don’t eat anything you bring in this house,” Beth said.

Billy stood frozen, half bent reaching for the turkey in the trash, half watching the knife gripped tightly in his mother’s hand. Her tone was low. It wasn’t a statement. It was a threat.

“Mom, I—”

“Don’t.”

There wasn’t anything he could say, or do, to get his family back. The trust was broken.

“I’m sorry,” Billy said.

Billy left his mother in the kitchen and walked upstairs to his room. He passed his brother’s room and the door was cracked. Quiet sobs escaped through the sliver of an opening and Billy stopped. He leaned in close to listen and peer inside.

Joey was on the edge of his bed, his face in his hands. He looked up when Billy entered, his face red.

“Get out!” Joey screamed.

“Joey.”

“Get OUT!”

Joey jumped off the bed and shoved Billy out of his room, slamming the door in his face. Billy stood in the hallway, the door inches from his nose. He gently rested his forehead on the cool wood of the door panel and let out a slow breath.

Billy went back to his room and collapsed onto his bed. The pain of his family was weighing on him.

Under those layers of hate, he knew there was still a foundation of love. If he could hold onto that he might be able to get his family back.

***

Anne threw the last of the medical supplies into the bag. She wanted to bring as many of the modern amenities they had with them as possible. As optimistic as she was about Cincinnati having everything they hoped it would, she still wanted to be ready if it didn’t.

She lugged the bag up the basement stairs and stacked it on the growing pile of supplies everyone had packed for the journey.

“Anything else we need to grab?” Katie asked, walking down the hallway toward the living room.

“No, I think we’re all set,” Anne said.

“The boys are ready.”

“Good.”

Katie sat down on one of the chairs in the living room. Anne repositioned some of the gear.

“Do you think it’ll be today?” Katie asked.

“Well, Sam said he’d be done with the Jeep by today, so I guess we’ll know when Mike gets back.”

“What if Cincinnati isn’t what we think it is? What if it’s just as bad as everywhere else? The broadcasts we heard could just be loops of old recordings.”

“That’s a lot of trouble to go through for a prank.”

“But what if—”

“Katie, we’ll be fine.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Why don’t you get breakfast ready for the boys. I’ll go and grab them.”

Katie nodded and headed for the kitchen. Anne noticed that she had been hesitant about going to Cincinnati. She figured it was because of what happened in Pittsburgh. The “relief” center Katie was stuck in didn’t hold up to its name.

Anne had her doubts too though, after hearing the stories of what went on in Pittsburgh, and seeing firsthand what happened here. A part of her thought it was too good to be true, but there was another part that desperately wanted to believe. Both were dangerous.

Freddy and Sean were playing on the floor when she entered Freddy’s room. She knocked on the door and the two boys looked up, realizing she was watching them.

“You boys hungry?” Anne asked.

“Yes!” both of them answered at the same time.

“Sean, your mom is getting breakfast started. Why don’t you two go and help her?”

Freddy and Sean tore out of the room, past her and down the hallway. Anne stayed in the doorway of Freddy’s room, listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen.

It’d been a long week, and it was starting to wear her down. She’d exhausted a lot of energy nursing Mike and Kalen back to health, and it wasn’t just the physical demands but the emotional stressors too.

Her husband and daughter had been beaten bloody, within an inch of their lives; it wasn’t an easy thing to see. She made sure Freddy didn’t have to be witness to it. She kept him out of their rooms for the first few days, giving them time to rest.

Anne wasn’t worried about Mike, but she was concerned about Kalen. Her daughter had been through a lot, and it changed her. The girl she’d known was gone. The person that worried about boys and school and getting her own car had vanished, hardened by the harsh realities of the world around her.

“Mrs. Grant?”

“Mary, you scared me,” Anne said, laughing a bit. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“I know we’re leaving tomorrow, and everyone’s busy getting ready, but I wanted to take my sisters down to visit our parents’ graves. Give us one last chance to say good-bye.”

“Of course. Let me finish up here and we’ll head down together.”

“Thank you.”

Mary disappeared into Kalen’s room and Anne listened to the boys’ laughter coming from the kitchen. That sound kept her going. Whatever burdens she felt lifted with the voices echoing through the cabin.