HOOD: A Post Apocalyptic Novel (American Rebirth Series Book 1) (22 page)

“Maybe. Or they want it to look that way,” Whiskey muttered.

Hood's stomach turned. The Sheriff had said it. He’d said they were going to the Church of the Epiphany. He bit his bottom lip, wondering how far their search might take them. Probably into the heart of the Kaiser's lands. For what felt like an hour, they surveyed the solemn church.

“Stay here.” Whiskey said, gripping his shotgun. “I'll make a sweep. If they
are
here, they got to have sentries.”

“You think that's a good idea?” Hood asked.

“I won't be long. If I draw some attention and they come stormin' out, it might give you a chance to sneak inside.”

Hood nodded slowly. “Yeah, that might work.”

“Just hang tight. We need to find out more before we go chargin' in.”

“What should I do?” Kerry asked, hopping off her barstool.

“Stay here. With eyes glued to that church.” Whiskey produced his Glock. He checked the magazine, replaced it and pulled back the slide.

“Guys, it looks abandoned,” Kerry said. “I know you might not want to hear that.”

“Yeah, it does look like it. But if we're wrong, we don't get a do-over.” Hood shifted his left shoulder. The wounds burned with every movement. It was bearable, but the pain urged his mind away from the task at hand. He ignored it.

“If we get split up, meet back up near Metro center. Somewhere out of sight.” Whiskey said.

Hood nodded.

Whiskey turned and headed out the back of the bar.

Ahead, the church lay dormant. The trees planted in the gardens around it clung pathetically to life, sporting only a sparse few green leaves on their thin branches. The bright red front doors were closed, and the last light of the day was gone.

“Well, considering we have time on our hands. I'm making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.” Kerry pulled off her backpack and tossed it onto the bar. “Best part of having all those supplies to ourselves, is we get to eat the good stuff whenever we want,” she grinned.

“Silver lining,” Hood said wistfully. Hood hadn't thought much about eating, but his stomach was calling out for food. That seemed to always be the case, though.
You've got the metabolism of a hummingbird, like your father. Sending the grocery bills through the roof!
His mother's voice echoed in his head.

It was years ago, and he’d been eating a bowl of cereal after polishing off some leftover ribs at two in the morning when she came into the kitchen, bleary-eyed in her pajamas. She just sat down next to him, watched him eat, told him she was proud of him. Hood remembered it vividly, because he thought she was going to be pissed, thought a life lecture was coming.

What the hell was there to be proud of anyway? He had no job, no idea what he wanted to do, student loans out the ass, and he stayed out all night getting drunk only to come home and eat his parents’ food. But she just smiled and said she was proud of him.
I wish I could tell you guys that I'm still alive. I wish I could just sit down and talk with you guys about anything, about nothing.
Being a parent must be a special kind of hell at the end of the world.

The smell of peanut butter and the sight of double-stacked graham crackers with jelly oozing out of them snapped him into reality. Hood took the sandwich, looking at Kerry. She sported an impressive look of self-satisfaction.

“Try it. It's pretty goddamn delicious. As delicious as you can possibly get nowadays.” She took a bite, nodding with raised eyebrows. “Ahm tellig you,” she said through the peanut butter, covering her mouth.

She wasn't wrong. He devoured the entire thing in moments, the sweet cracker and jam complimenting the salty peanut butter magnificently. He pulled off his backpack and produced a canteen of water, washing it down. He held it out to her.

“Thank you, sir!” She grabbed the canteen and took a drink. “It's the little things, right?” She inhaled in appreciation, dabbing the corners of her mouth with her fingertips.

“Yeah.” A faint smile crossed his face as he stared out once again at the church. He felt her gaze lingering on him.

“Isn't weird to think. . .we've come all this way, and your sister is either just across the street or miles and miles away. But we don’t know which.”

“Schrodinger's cat.” Hood muttered to himself.

“What'd you say?”

“Nothing. . . It's stupid.” Hood shook his head.

Kerry leaned her hip against the doorframe, looking out the window, her arms crossed. Hood glanced over at her for a moment.

“Y'know, I think he's getting used to me.” Kerry said, nodding towards the back of the bar.

“Yeah, I think so too.”
He's smart enough not to turn down help we need, even if it takes some persuading.
“He's a good guy, y'know. He just doesn't trust easily.”

“Well, he hasn't tried to kill me in a while. So I'm taking that as a positive sign.”

Hood chuckled, brushing his mouth with the back of his middle and pointer finger. “Thanks for patching me up, by the way.”

“I figure now we're even.” She sounded satisfied.

“Let’s get it straight: you still owe me.”

“What? How do you figure?”

“Well, I saved you
twice.
And you didn't have to fight a fat Frankenstein while chained to a wall.”

“Oh, get over yourself,” She waved him off. “I should've let that bitch eat you.”

Hood laughed, rubbing the scruff on his jaw.

“And it shouldn't count that you saved me from your own psycho friend! That's like wearing clothes made of bird seed and blaming the pigeons for eating you alive.”

“What? What kind of analogy is that?” Hood furrowed his brow.

“It's
my
analogy. The point is, we’re even, okay, asshole?” She waved her pointer finger back and forth from him to herself.

“Oh, okay. So you'll be leaving us then?” Hood said.

She paused, biting her bottom lip. “Maybe I will.”

Hood smiled at her.

The back door swung open with a clank and a squeak. The two of them whipped their guns to sight and pointed them down the hallway in the back of the bar.

“Don't shoot, Robbie,” implored a familiar voice. A voice from home.

Ian stepped into the hall. His eyes met Hood's. His short cut blond hair was shorter than Hood remembered, and he looked so much older, carrying more worry in his face. His boots, gray jeans and thick long sleeve shirt looked well-worn. Ian slung his rifle onto his back and ran towards him. Hood dropped his rifle, running to meet him. They embraced each other, Ian pounding his fist against Hood's back.

“Ah!” Hood grimaced at the pain, inhaling sharply. “I fucked up my shoulder.”

Ian released Hood from his bear hug. “Shit, sorry bro.” Ian shook his head in disbelief, a look of euphoria on his face. For a moment the two of them stood there, at a loss for words. Ian carried himself in a different way now. This life had inevitably changed him, as it had done to everyone. But just seeing him made Hood feel like the person he was in his old life still was alive. And he loved that feeling.

“I can't believe it's you. I can't believe you're here. I saw you guys enter the area, I was on watch. I got down to ground level as soon as I could. How did you guys get this far into the city without being seen?” Ian said.

“We went through the Metro.”

“You serious? There's a horde of feral motherfuckers down there.”

“Yeah, we found that out. Hence the shoulder,” Hood nodded towards his wounded side.

Ian clicked his tongue. “You sick bastard! From emo kid to badass!”

Hood laughed. “Haven't quite shaken the emo kid part yet.”

A toothy grin grew on Ian. “Of course.”

“You don't know how good it is to see you.” Hood clapped his hand onto Ian's shoulder.
If he's here, Taylor has got to be here too. He wouldn't stay far from her.

Ian face turned solemn. “I do though. I've been alone in all this.”

Alone? What happened to Jen?
Hood wasn't sure he should ask about Ian's wife, fearing the worst. And he had a thousand other questions. “I saw you at Clearwater. I saw you take Taylor. Where is she? You're working for the Kaiser?”
I want hours just to talk. What happened? How did you end up like this?

“Yeah. It hasn't been easy.” Ian looked down at the polished floor of the bar, working his mouth. “I had to get her out of there. I didn't want the other soldiers to get a hold of her. She's okay.”

She's still alive.
Hood felt a surge rise up through him.
This wasn't for nothing.

Kerry stood by the bar, holding her forearm. She looked nervous, unsure of what to make of the encounter.

“Kerry, this is Ian.” Hood moved towards her, gesturing towards his foster brother.

“Hi. Ian. Nice to meet you,” he shook her hand, turning to shoot a devious look at Hood. “I see you still have great taste.”

Hood scratched the back of his head. “I see you still have no filter.”

“Some things don't change.” Ian shrugged.

“Do you—”
Boom, boom.
Muffled echoes of distant gunshots stopped Hood.

Shotgun blasts.

If they were Whiskey’s, those were his last rounds. Kerry's scrutiny turned to Hood to see his reaction, her face a picture of cold fear.

“Whiskey.” Hood said aloud, as if saying his name would keep him safe.

“Is that the guy you guys came in with?”

“Yeah. He's Taylor's guy.”

“He probably ran into the other patrol.”

“Oh shit.” Kerry hid herself behind the doorframe. Hood made himself flat against the wall. Six armed men filed out of the side door of the church, moving swiftly down the street with guns raised, heading west.

Ian grabbed Hood's arm. “This is our chance. Taylor's in the church. We can get her and get the hell out of here,” Ian's voice carried a unexpected intensity.

“What about Whiskey?” Kerry said pointedly at Hood. “Are we going to leave him behind.”

Hood cursed.
This is our chance. This is what he would want. He would kill me if he knew I came for him when I had the chance to free Taylor.
“This is what he wanted. He'll be okay. We'll find him after.” Hood said, trying to sound calm.
Will we?
Hood's heart wanted to leap out of his chest.

Being scared is better than not being scared enough,
Whiskey had said to him on their first raid together.

“I'm coming with you.” Kerry said, visibly steeling herself.

“No, stay here. Take my rifle. You know how to shoot it?”

She nodded.

“I need you to unload on anyone who chases us if we come running.”

“Okay.” She exhaled forcefully, putting the rifle butt against her shoulder, taking aim at the window.

“Come on.” Ian urged. “We have to go now.”

Hood pressed himself up against the door, and turned to look back at her.

“If this goes to hell . . . don't forget what you promised about Taylor.”

She nodded slowly, working her mouth. “I haven't.”

Hood nodded, pushed open the door and crept outside with Ian. Everything was dark. The only cars in the road sat sunken into the pavement with blasted tires and blown out windows. He pulled out his .38 and cocked the hammer, the two of them walking without a sound across the street to the church.
If we can just all make it through this.

The air smelled of dust and the only sound was the squeaking of the paddle sign as it waved with the wind in front of the church.
All Are Welcome!
Hood scoffed. They approached the short steps that lead to the red wooden doors. With a nod, Ian pulled one open by its black metal doorknob and Hood stepped inside. The double glass doors in the foyer were open. Inside, orange glow from candlelight lit up the interior of the white stone church. There were brown wood pews and arched ceilings. The smell of death and incense filled the air.

Carefully, Hood walked down the aisle. Ian followed behind him. The silence broke with the metallic clank of the front door closing.

Two bodies hung from ropes attached to the wooden supports running the length of the ceiling. His heart dropped what seemed hundreds of feet through his body.

He could only make out the silhouettes of the bodies. One was a man and one was a woman. Part of him wanted to turn, run out the front door. But his legs carried him slowly ahead.
God, don't let the woman be Taylor.
Hood turned to look at Ian. His face was placid, and he nodded ahead.

The woman wasn't Taylor. He could tell as he got closer. But something about the two of them was very familiar. He looked up at their faces, nearly underneath them now. His muscles froze, his feet stuck in the ground.

Mom? Dad?
It didn't register as reality.

What? How, why are you here? Who did this?