The Survivor Chronicles: The Risen (33 page)

"What do you suggest?" Xander inquired.

"We'll see if we can make it to the
racetrack. There's got to be somewhere around there where we can
hide the vehicles for the night."

"Am I still going to drive the truck?"

"I'll be fine to drive," John said from
behind him. "My hand feels better and it's not like I have to
shift."

Xander nodded and turned away from him. He
was glad he wasn't going to be separated from Riley; he needed some
time alone with her. Riley climbed into the passenger seat of the
car and pulled open the glove box to dig out more bullets for her
gun. "You ok?" Xander asked when he sat behind the wheel.

"It was what had to be done," she replied as
she began to reload her gun.

"I know, but I'm asking about you."

She stared at the glove box before turning
her head toward him. "I would have let them take the vehicles
rather than risk accidentally hitting one of you, or causing one of
them to start shooting at you. Not having the vehicles may have
been a death sentence for us, especially for John and Josh but
we've made it this far, we would have figured something out. So I
was waiting until they left, but then they killed Josh and left me
no choice. You didn't have a choice either. So yes, I'm ok with
what happened. I should have shot sooner."

"It could have been even worse if you
had."

"It could have, or it could have been
better. Are you ok?" she inquired.

He pondered the question as he started the
car. There was a hole in his chest from the loss of Josh, tears
burned his eyes but he nodded and squeezed her hand. "It had to be
done and the four of us are still here."

"We are."

"I love you."

"I love you too." Her smile was enough to
ease some of the tension that continued to thrum through his body.
"And because of that I'd do it again."

He smiled at her before pulling out of the
open lot and following John down a series of back roads. Night was
beginning to descend more rapidly upon them when they drove back by
the track. Through the dark, he could see the shadows of the horses
still grazing by the fence before John turned onto a road that
twisted past a white fence and then a large grandstand. He saw a
sign for valet parking near the front entrance as parking lots
began to roll out on his left. John drove by the grandstand and
past another parking lot on the right before stopping in front of a
chain link fence running around another small building.

Carl climbed out of the passenger side of
the truck and approached the gate. He tugged at the chain wrapped
around the fence before pulling it free and pushing the gates
inward. Standing aside, he waved the truck and car forward before
closing the gates and sliding the chain back through. They drove
further onto the track's grounds and up the first hill on their
left. The road went through a grouping of barns. John took a left
behind the first barn at the bottom of the hill. He parked outside
of the barn doors and in front of a horse trailer.

"The gate wasn't locked?" Xander inquired as
he climbed out of the car.

"Just dummy locked," Carl answered. "I think
we'll be good here for the night."

"I think so too," Riley said, her gaze was
on the back of the barn. "It's a big place to search."

"It is," Carl agreed.

They all broke out their flashlights and
searched through the barn as rapidly as possible but it remained
clear of everything other than dust, cobwebs, feed, and a bunch of
horse equipment that he couldn't even begin to name.

Gathering supplies from the back of the
truck, they settled outside of the barn for the night. None of them
was willing to be inside where they would be unable to see
something coming at them. Xander took first watch with Riley at the
corners of the barn. He could see most of the barns, part of the
track on his right, and the vehicles. Riley sat at the other corner
where she could see anything coming in from the gate they'd entered
through, the rest of the oval track, and part of the
grandstand.

As darkness settled in around them, Xander
couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't alone here, even
though the only sound he heard was the chirrup of the crickets and
the movement of the horses on the hillside to his left.

John,

"There is still beauty in
the world."

John didn't know where the
voice came from as he turned to search the woods behind him. The
darkness continued to reign supreme and the forest kept whatever
secret it was holding. He supposed he should be unnerved that a
voice was whispering to him but he was pretty sure he'd met his
capacity for fear. Even now something worse than death could be
ravaging his body so voices weren't really his biggest
concern.

"There are still
secrets."

"More secrets than
beauty," he said to the voice and then felt like an idiot for
talking to himself.

"Maybe that's one of the
secrets," the voice whispered.

"Maybe what
is?"

"That there is more beauty
than secrets."

He'd never liked riddles,
and he especially disliked them when he was standing at the edge of
a forest staring into the gaping maw of nothing. Ridiculous, he
thought, but he didn't say the word out loud.

Was it so ridiculous? He
wondered as he ran his fingers through his hair. What did he know
about anything; perhaps the voice was right. He really had lost his
mind if he believed a voice whispering to him from the woods was
actually right, he decided. He glanced around but the others were
all sound asleep around him.

From the corner of his
eye, he saw a flicker in the woods but when he turned to look the
flicker disappeared. "What if we're only able to see the ugly from
here on out?" he inquired.

"Then you're not looking
close enough."

"Oh for crying out loud,"
he muttered. There were a dozen swears running through his mind he
would have rather said. He just wasn't so sure that cursing at a
strange voice, coming from the woods, was the best idea. It might
be the most absurd thing he'd ever experienced but he couldn't
shake the feeling that the voice had something to say to him and he
didn't want to piss it off.

"You just have to know
where to look."

There was that flicker
again. It danced amongst the trees like a firefly dancing between
lily pads. He'd considered the voice odd but that flickering was as
strange to him as a man with six heads would have been. "Am I
supposed to look in the woods?" he inquired.

"You're supposed to look
where you're willing to look."

Oh the wonderful fucking
riddles again. If the voice had been corporal, and in front of him,
he may have just strangled it even if it did have something to
reveal. John frowned as the flickering grew brighter. It no longer
resembled a lightning bug dancing within the woods but more like a
lantern being led onward through the dark.

"I hate riddles," he
muttered.

"Riddles are some of
life's greatest mysteries. When one is solved yet another one can
unfold."

"Sometimes mysteries are
just plain annoying," John retorted before he could
think.

The voice didn't take
offense though as it released a tinkling laugh that drew his
attention away from the lantern swaying in the distance. His
mother's laugh had been like that, carefree and girlish both rolled
together. A pang of yearning stabbed his chest. The image of his
mother swelled so clearly within his mind that for a disconcerting
minute he believed she stood before him. He almost reached out to
touch her but even as the image burst forth, it was fading away. It
had been weeks since he'd recalled her face so vividly, heard the
sound of her laugh so clearly, and doing so now caused tears to
burn hotly in his eyes.

What was this voice? Was
it a savior or was it the devil coming to torment him?

John shook his head and
took a step back. "That they are," the voice agreed. "And some of
them are just waiting to be solved." The lantern within the woods
grew into a bonfire that would have burnt the trees around it, if
it had been real. Unlike a normal fire, this bonfire wasn't red. It
had an odd yellowish hue to it that wasn't healthy or vibrant.
Instead of being a welcoming yellow like the sun, it reminded him
more of snot. "Some are so close to being solved that you can
almost touch them. You just have to look."

John tore his eyes away
from the woods to search for the voice. What was it talking about?
Did he look for the voice or did he follow the light moving toward
the center of the racetrack?

"Not here, you can't look
here," the voice whispered. "There is nothing to see
here."

"Then where?" he demanded
growing more impatient as the strange fire began to rage
higher.

"You have to open your
eyes to be able to see."

Oh just wonderful, even
more riddles. How on earth was he supposed to open his eyes to see
when his eyes were already open and he could see perfectly fine?
John continued to stare at the yellowish flames spreading
throughout the woods. It was the strangest fire he'd ever seen as
its flames never scorched anything around it.

"The answers aren't what
you're expecting," the voice whispered.

"They never are," John
muttered.

"Do not be afraid of
them."

John frowned as he finally
tore his attention away from the flames and sought out the voice
again. "Who are you?" he demanded.

The voice had decided to
choose silence as the light grew and shrank in a pulsating wave
that reminded him of a lighthouse beam flashing through the fog. A
breeze tickled the hair at the nape of his neck and cooled him in a
way that he hadn't been cooled since all of this
started.

"I am your friend. Wake up
now."

John woke with a start. He almost fell over
as he'd fallen asleep propped up against the barn door with his gun
in his good hand. It was the last thing he'd planned on doing but
sometime during the night, exhaustion had claimed him. He raised
his head and blinked against the black night enshrouding him. He
lifted his hand to rub at the kink that had formed in his neck from
his awkward sleeping position. Awe filled him as he took in the
stars twinkling above him while he worked on his neck.
There really is beauty in the world
too
, he realized as he studied the constellations.

Inwardly, he searched himself for any sign
of the sickness. His hand throbbed like a son of a bitch but he
didn't think he had a fever and he definitely didn't feel like
eating anyone so he guessed that was a bonus. He was thirsty though
and his clothes stuck to him from the heat and his sweat.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Unlike the other voice, he knew exactly
where this one came from. He turned toward where Riley sat at the
corner of the barn with her elbows on her knees. "You should have
woke me," he said.

"You needed your rest."

"So do you."

She shrugged and dropped her elbows off her
knees. "But I'm the one that's still awake."

John glanced around him and realized the
others were asleep too. How she had managed to stay awake, sitting
in the darkness, was beyond him but her eyes were more alert than
when he'd last seen her. "Did you fall asleep?"

"No. There's no sleep for me, not tonight."
She said the last two words so low that he barely heard them.

John frowned as he pushed himself further up
against the barn. He winced when he jarred his hand and his stiff
body protested the movement. It didn't matter how uncomfortable he
was, the sight of those stars in the sky was enough to make even
the worst aches fade as a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.
He found the Big Dipper before turning his attention back to
Riley.

"You did what had to be done back there,
with those men, you should try to sleep," he told her.

"I know that but it's more than what
happened earlier, it's more than losing Josh even."

He winced at the reminder of Josh. Things
had gone bad so fast, and they had lost another friend, one that
had been far too young to die. "Then what is it?" he asked her.

Her fingers tapped against her shin as she
frowned thoughtfully at the sky. Finally, she tore her attention
away from the stars and to him. "It might sound crazy."

"You could tell me the ocean is red and I
would go look to make sure. Nothing is crazy anymore," he told her.
"There's little you could tell me now that I would find
shocking."

"Didn't you know that the ocean really is
red?" she asked with a tired smile.

"I didn't but I'll be sure to look. Tell
me."

Riley sighed, rose to her feet and stepped
away from the barn. "I'm not saying I'm psychic, or anything like
that, because I'm definitely not. But sometimes I just get these
feelings that something isn't right," she said. "Like I'll be
driving down the road and I'll just know to slow down before
rounding the next curve, or coming across the next U-turn area on
the highway. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the feeling is right
and there's a cop there. It saved me a lot on speeding
tickets."

John frowned as her words made him recall
his dream. "You're seventeen, how many speeding tickets could you
have gotten in your lifetime?" He tried to sound light but he
couldn't keep the tension from his voice.