Eden's Root (16 page)

“I’m sorry Jeff,” he said quietly, “I wish you the best of luck, but I’m staying here.”

----------- Fi -----------

It had been one week since Fi’s Family escaped and no amount of training could have prepared her for the violence of the collapse. Her decisions to move the Family at night and to stay away from town had turned out to be critical. As a result, they had pretty well avoided the bloodshed that was taking place in cities and towns across the country, though they sometimes came across bodies, even in the forest. It was only because they desperately needed provisions and this small, quiet town had seemed largely abandoned that she had decided to break from her usual pattern. Selecting a detached garage belonging to the house farthest from the center of town, Fi and the Family settled in.

Just after sunset, the Family was startled by gunfire. The sounds were quick, almost like firecrackers and Fi’s heart leapt into her throat. Those had to be automatic weapons, she thought, as she closed her eyes in shock. Some Family Members were woken from sleep and sat bolt upright up from the hard ground in terror. Shouting voices accompanied the gunshots. The Family pulled themselves into a terrified ball against the garage door while all hell broke loose in the streets. An orange glow floated through the garage door windows above them as they cowered.

“Cover your ears, baby,” Fi whispered to Kiara below her. Turning around, Fi stood in a low crouch below the window ledge to peer out. She could see that the flickering glow came from cars and possibly houses that had been set ablaze. Screams continued to fill the air, along with intermittent gunfire. A group of men jogged past in the street. In the firelight, Fi could tell that these were the attackers. All wore the same black ammunition vests and they moved as a group. Her eyes scanned as they disappeared from view. They were citizens, she could tell, not soldiers, but they were heavily armed and they were ransacking the town. It was impossible to tell if they were the only attackers because gunshots continued to come from all sides.

Suddenly one of the marauders jogged back into view and began walking straight toward the garage. Fi gasped and dropped to the floor. She pressed her back against the door and crushed Kiara to her. Did he see her? Her mind whirled with possibilities and she struggled to maintain her grasp on her fear. No one breathed as his footsteps drew near and a flashlight panned over the inside of the garage. Kiara gasped when the shaft of light came close to John’s shoe, but he quickly pulled his knee up to his chest. The flashlight swung away and it was dark again as the man left.

“Thank God,” Lucy breathed.

“Yes,” Fi whispered. “Thank God.” Fi thanked God that the garage they were in was completely empty. There was nothing on the shelves, nothing in the laundry tubs at the back. No car. No gas tanks. Nothing of value. Lucky for us, Fi thought, her heart still pounding.

Throughout the night she kept sneaking looks outside to keep tabs on what was happening. One man kept drawing her attention. Big, bald, and mean, he appeared to be the gang’s leader and he was terrifying. Once as she watched him argue with one of his own guys, he raised his weapon and shot him right in the head. She jumped and her heart stopped as the man’s head swung around with the force of the blast and she saw his last expression cross his face. Fi dropped back down and grabbed Sean’s hand in terror. Her heart was racing and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She’d never seen someone murdered before.

Without meaning to, she found herself rocking back and forth, her eyes fixed on the ground. It was different to see it. God knows why, she thought, shivering all over, but it was. Clammy sweat broke out across the bridge of her nose and palms of her hands as she shook. She didn’t know if her heart would ever beat at a normal pace ever again. Sean squeezed her hand, his face concerned.

‘Are you ok?’ he mouthed to her and she shook her head.

“Soon.”

It was all she could manage. It was an effort not to throw up as her mind replayed that man’s head exploding. That was why she wanted Kiara to cover her ears. Despite being curled into a tight ball in her arms, Fi knew that she could still hear the screaming.

“You cover your ears too Zoe, Rachel,” she instructed and they did. Zoe whimpered. Kiara did not make any noises, but Fi could feel her body tighten in her arms with every shout and gunshot. Kiara’s terror made Fi realize that she could not afford to break down or else everyone might lose control. She had to stop the shaking.

With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and imagined that she was made of rock. As she drew each breath she imagined herself hardening, literally, into a statue until her shivering stopped. Several Family members sniffled as they cried in silence. Gripping each other in shock, they waited in a huddle until halfway through the following day.

When Fi gazed out the window, nothing could be seen but the feet of a body lying in the yard across the street. Otherwise there had been no sound, no voices, and no gunshots for at least five hours. Time to do some scouting, Fi resolved, ignoring her shaking hands.

“Ok,” she turned back to the Family. She moved in a crouch to the back door to the garage and checked her gun one more time. “I’m going to do a quick check around and I mean quick. I won’t go far until I get more information. We’ll go further and further out based on what I see, understand?” They all nodded, but John’s mouth opened to protest.

Fi shook her head before he spoke. “Again John, no you can’t come. No one can go out there without a weapon. I can’t guarantee your safety, one gun needs to stay here, and you can’t shoot, so you can’t cover me.” She shook her head one more time. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Hopefully that would suffice for reassurance she thought as she turned her gaze to Sean. His scowl deepened and she sighed. He always wore his feelings on his sleeve, she thought. Though he was angry at being left behind, he couldn’t argue with her position. The Family had to be guarded by someone who could shoot a gun. Who the hell knew what was out there? She couldn’t risk everyone. He was staying.

“If I do not come back by nightfall,” she said, “Get out of here. I know where we’re going and can join you later. You can’t wait.” They nodded, but Kiara sniffed. Fi turned to her with a nod. “I’m coming right back baby girl, alright?” Kiara wiped her face and nodded. Maggie nodded too.

“Be safe,” her mother’s whisper shook as she folded her arms around Kiara from behind.

Fi gently pushed the door latch and it opened without sound. Thank goodness, she breathed. As she slipped out the door, she drew her gun. It was difficult to fight the fear as her heart pounded. The daylight made her feel terribly exposed and she had trouble forcing her feet to keep taking the next step forward. She pinned herself against the garage wall and took a deep breath. C’mon, she told herself. You can do this. You have to do this. She slid to the end of the wall and peered around the corner. There was no one there. Fi stepped out toward the street and she gasped as she swept her weapon back and forth.

Burned out cars and houses smoked in the afternoon air, some with partially torched skeletons still inside. Glass glittered in the streets and bodies littered lawns and driveways. Fi’s stomach lurched and she doubled over and gagged. Though she had not had much to eat in days, she could not hold her stomach back as she turned cold and bile filled her throat. She coughed up spit until the heaving turned dry and she gasped for air, pulling her arm across her mouth and nose and sniffing. The burning in her nose and throat was excruciating. As she stood, a lightheaded sensation swept through her limbs and she thought she might faint.

‘No!’ Her mind shouted at her, snapping her back to reality. Her Family needed her to handle this. She reset the aim of her weapon, locking her hands to stop the shaking. She surveyed the situation. Despite the great number of bodies, her unemotional eye told her that all seemed stiff with dark, dry blood. Nothing and no one was moving. She heard birds, and wind, and…nothing else.

Fi explored the perimeter of the closest house across the street. She found nothing and decided to expand her search. Might as well check out the entire block to get a sense of how hard it would be to break for the woods once dusk arrived. In the back of her mind, the continual worry about food began to overcome her fear. If this place was actually a ghost town now, she thought and then she stopped. Ghost Town. There were going to be a lot of these, she realized. Regardless, at this point an abandoned town with leftover resources was a useful thing. There was no time or room to feel guilty about taking things from the dead, she resolved. They didn’t need their food and she did. Even if it was Sickfood.

Using the connected backyards, Fi passed the next two homes and selected one with a secluded back entrance. As she turned the doorknob, she prayed, and it clicked open. Thank you small towns, she breathed and slipped inside. She found herself in the kitchen. Perfect, she thought and began looking for the pantry. When she opened the large cabinet beside the refrigerator, she suppressed a happy laugh. They still had quite a bit in this home, she rejoiced, grabbing cans of veggies and soups, and one pie filling. She also grabbed granola bars. It was difficult to concentrate with her heart pounding in her ears and having her back turned to the room made her stomach sick. After last night’s horror show, the silence in the house was almost worse...eerie. She briefly wondered if the house’s owners were dead somewhere inside and she shuddered. Never mind, she thought. Her mission complete, Fi snuck back out of the home and moved down the row.

The next home also yielded a few more cans, though not as many as she would have liked. She had gotten some other good resources including First Aid and personal hygiene supplies. The Family would be pleased with those, she thought. Still, she wished there had been more food.

The backyard of the next home had a small chain-link fence that Fi easily hopped. She’d only taken one step when she raised her head and froze. In the yard with her stood a large, emaciated, brown dog. He barked and lunged. Paralyzed, she screamed and covered her face with her arms, waiting for the pain of his attack. Suddenly the dog yelped. Fi dropped her hands and saw that he was tied to the tree on the other side of the yard. He’d been cut short in his lunge, she realized, her heart pounding. Despite his continued barking, Fi bent over with her hands on her knees for one moment to regain her breath.

As she watched him struggle, the old animal-lover in her felt enraged for him. They tied him up! They didn’t even give him a chance! Then she thought about what she saw last night and she realized that his owners might have been murdered. Her stomach squeezed and she made up her mind. She snuck around the back edge of the fence and approached the tree where the rope was tied. The dog barked and yelped and Fi winced at the noise, but the town around her remained still. She pulled her buck knife and sawed at the rope. After a few swipes, the twine separated and the dog was freed from his bonds.

Fi scurried away. It wasn’t ideal. She knew that he was still behind a fence, but he was big and she hoped he could get over it. He also would be dragging a rope that could choke him, she thought. Or he could starve. She sighed. Stupid, she thought. Still, she felt like she had to give him a chance. It was the best she could do.

She continued in her mission, sweeping homes for resources. As she started to leave the last house, a low groan from upstairs made her nearly jump out of her skin. Run! Run, her mind urged, but for some reason she moved toward the staircase instead. Her weapon still drawn, she scaled the stairs with caution. Halfway up, she detected voices.

“Shhhhh baby,” she heard a warm female voice. “Just rest.” Then Fi was startled by a child’s high, boyish voice.

“Daddy, squeeze my hand. It will make your head hurt less.” Fi exhaled, relieved and lowered her gun as she continued up the stairs. This was a family, she realized. The door to the room was cracked open and Fi pushed it. The family inside turned and gasped.

An African-American man laid on the bed with his head in the lap a beautiful African-American woman, who must have been his wife. His bloodied scalp left no question as to who was hurt. On the floor beside him crouched a boy wearing wire-rimmed glasses who appeared to be about nine years old. All looked shocked and terrified to see her.

“It’s ok,” she said, putting both her hands above her head. Her gun was still in her hand, but she wanted them to know that she was friendly. “It’s ok, I was worried you were going to hurt me,” she explained. “But I heard your voices and knew you were safe.” She holstered her gun. “I’m Fi,” she held out her hand to the woman on the bed. “It looks like you folks could use some help.”

As she stepped forward she saw a movement in the corner, and in a flash she drew her gun and swung around. The family behind her screamed. The girl facing her was pointing a gun at her as well. She was petite, Caucasian and freckled with a long red braid, and she was dressed like a soldier.

Jesus! Fi lowered her gun. It was a freaking mirror. The long oval mirror tilted backward, making her appear even smaller than she was in real life. It felt like a long time since she’d seen a mirror. Besides the obvious dirt visible on her skin and clothes, the most pronounced difference was her eyes. They were set and flat. She sighed. I look tired, she thought. Turning back to the family, Fi re-holstered her gun.

“So sorry,” she apologized. To put them at ease, she knelt. “Still a little edgy after last night,” she explained and the woman nodded. “So tell me about yourselves, how badly is he hurt?” The man groaned and sat up against the woman’s protests.

“No, Ronald, stay down,” she urged, but he pushed her hand away.

“It’s ok Aliyah,” he said, wincing as he touched his head. Fi could see that he had a good lump with a small cut that had bled a lot. It looked gruesome, but it was probably mostly just painful. He reached out his hand to Fi and she took it. His hand was warm and dry.

“Doctor Ronald Cooper. ‘Doc Ron’ for short.” His voice was warm. “This here is my wife, Aliyah,” he indicated the woman. She held out her hand and Fi took it. Her grip was strong, her fingers long and slender. “And this fine young man is Aldous,” he nodded to his son. The boy with the wire rimmed glasses smiled tentatively and held out his hand.