Finding Home - A Post Apocalyptic Novel (The Ravaged Land Series Book 2) (5 page)

“Ready?” he asked anxiously with a smile on his face.

“Did you even sleep?”

“Some…. I tried really hard though.” He was almost a completely different person than the one that had fallen at my doorstep weeks ago. This guy was brave, motivated and strong. Definitely something positive for me to be around. After I first found this place, I felt all those same things. But with each passing day I became even more weary than the day before, and things seemed even more bleak. I inched back to my old weak self.

“Let’s go,” I said, as I slipped into my jacket.

He pulled on his winter hat and stood next to me. After he took a quick glance at me as if making sure I met some kind of standard he was looking for in a travel companion, he bent down and picked up the packs. He handed one to me and put the other over his shoulder.

“What’s with all the stuff?” I asked feeling like my pack was far too heavy. I reached around my hip to make sure my gun was placed securely in my waistband right where I liked it.

“Just in case we’d get lost, or something happened. I want to be prepared.”

“We won’t get lost,” I said as I turned to collect my notebook. But before I could even take a step, I was hit lightly in the chest with my notebook.

“Probably not,” he said, “But better safe than sorry. After what I’ve been through… this is smart.”

I wasn’t exactly sure what he’d meant by that since what he had been through with his dad and his sister wasn’t really something someone could have been prepared for. He had managed those situations pretty well if you asked me. Better than most would have.

We walked out the front door and locked it behind us. I tucked the key inside my jacket pocket and then tripled checked that I had actually put it there. I taped a small piece of paper at the top of the door where it met the frame. Every time I left the house I did the same thing as an extra measure of security. It was my version of a burglar alarm. That way if someone from HOME came looking for me, I’d know it. It would tear the paper or pull the tape off.

The look on Penn’s face after I had finished my little trap showed he was impressed. It made me feel good to see that he seemed to think it was a good idea instead of thinking I was crazy, paranoid, or both. Then again, in this new world, I thought we were all paranoid to some extent. Maybe we had to be. I, thanks to HOME, was extra paranoid.

We spent the afternoon traveling along the stream. Taking care to map out the new unexplored area accurately. We were organized and efficient. I easily covered twice as much area with Penn than I did when I was alone, but still we hadn’t found HOME. After several hours and probably several miles, we decided to turn back to make sure we were at the cabin before nightfall. Neither of us wanted to wander around out here in the dark.

I stopped abruptly and dropped my backpack into the snow. Penn didn’t say anything he just watched me take out a pack of peanuts and tear it open with my teeth. I poured the salty nuts into my mouth when I heard a sharp whistle nearby. For a split second I wondered what kind of animal would make that noise, but quickly realized it hadn’t come from an animal at all.

The package of peanuts dropped to the ground as I spun around and reached for my gun. But it wasn’t there. My heart sped up, and I started to panic. Had it fallen out somewhere without me having noticed? I felt around frantically in my waistband as if maybe it had just shifted out of place, but it wasn’t there. My eyes scoured the surrounding ground.

I barely noticed the man standing in the trees half dressed in camouflage. He was pointing his hunting rifle at us while trying to keep himself mostly hidden behind branches. My heart was in my throat while my hand was still trying to conjure my gun. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Penn standing there, holding a gun. My gun. He had it aimed at the man in the trees. Slowly he reached out his arm and pushed me behind him.

The cold air was drying out my mouth that was hanging open. Somehow he had disarmed me without me having noticed. Of course he had known where I kept my gun. He had seen me put it there every day since he started staying with me. But what didn’t feel right, was how he had gotten it from me without being noticed. I hadn’t once felt anything unusual. When had he taken it? I also wasn’t sure how I felt about the fact that he’d taken my gun leaving me with nothing to protect myself with. But he was standing between me and the bullets that could be potentially fired, so I guess that could count for something.

“Send over the girl,” the man grunted, “and the packs.” It was almost as if the backpacks were an afterthought. “Do it, and I won’t kill you where you stand.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Penn said confidently. I felt helpless without my gun. I hadn’t let it out of my sight since leaving HOME. Truthfully I was probably nearly helpless with it as well.

“Kid,” he laughed, “I’ll shoot you both before you even figure out how to get the safety off.”

“Should we find out?”

I could tell Penn was smiling by the sound of his voice. He was over-confident. Yes, he had killed before, but that was different. That had been for his sister’s life. He barely knew me. In fact, he could easily just send me over to this guy and walk back to the house with my maps, and all my supplies, and be just fine all by himself.

“I’m not playing games kid, send her over with the stuff, or I’ll shoot you and take them anyway. One way you get to live.”

I kept my eyes on the man semi-hidden in the trees. I could see his eyes and I believed he would do it. He had that desperation in his eyes, the one where you stop caring at all about other people. His hand jerked ever so slightly near the trigger, and he adjusted his aim towards Penn.

But before there was any more talk, my body jerked back. I had been standing so close to Penn that the jolt knocked me off balance. I fell backwards and landed on the ground.

He had pulled the trigger.

Chapter five.

There was a high-pitched ringing in my ears from the pop of the gun. My eyes couldn’t focus on anything. I slapped my hands over my ears in an attempt to stop the noise, and I curled my body up to make myself smaller. What had just happened? When I felt his hand on my shoulder I jerked away as if his touch was poisonous.

“What did you just do?” I shouted at him as tears filled my eyes. My voice was loud and unusual. It hadn’t even felt like it had been mine.

“I was protecting you,” he said without batting an eyelash. “I’m not going to let anyone do anything to harm you. You saved my life, I will protect yours as long as I need to. I will do whatever it takes.”

“You took… you STOLE my gun!” My eyes grew even wider as things started to come back into focus.

He walked over to the man, picked the rifle up off of the ground and flicked a lever back. Nothing happened. He tossed the gun into a pile of snow.

“I borrowed it,” he said as he turned my gun around and handed it back to me. I almost felt weird about taking it now that it had been used to shoot and kill someone. Someone that was lying like ten feet away from me. But I took it. Pinching it between my thumb and fingers as if it was covered in moldy cheese. I shivered as I tucked it back into my waistband.

“Was it loaded?” My voice squeaked. I wasn’t sure if he had heard me. I asked again, “Was his gun loaded?”

Penn looked at the ground, “I had no way of knowing.”

I knew that meant it hadn’t been loaded. The man was sprawled out on the ground. Penn was trying to block him from my view but he was failing. His white and tan camouflage had hidden him well in the snow and twigs, but not well enough. The snow around him was turning red and spreading out further, almost as if it was growing. I felt like it was coming to get me, to take me with him.

“You can’t just go around shooting people!” I was annoyed and scared and in shock. I grabbed my hands to stop them from shaking.

“You can when they are threatening your life and the life of someone you care about,” he said offering me his hand to help me up. I pushed it away and stood on my own. “What did you want me to do Ros?” he said, his frustration apparent.

I felt small. Insignificant. Powerless. I shrugged my shoulders. If I pissed him off too much maybe he would grab my gun again and take me out too.

“I wasn’t going to let him kill you OK? Or me for that matter. We’ve both been through too much to be taken out by a guy like that. Who knows what he would have done with you. Arrr!” he sighed. He started walking away from me back towards the cabin. After several steps he slowed and called back, “Let’s go.”

We walked for a long time in complete silence. I stayed about ten steps behind him, and if it ever dropped to eleven he’d pause a beat until it was back to ten. I was trying to make sense of it all. What kind of person could just snatch a gun out of someone’s waistband without them even noticing? And then be able to hit his target with perfect aim? Had he just gotten lucky? Even if he had just randomly landed the perfect shot, the fact remained he had disarmed me.

But he had given me my gun back. Not that it mattered, apparently he could just take it back any time he wanted to and there wasn’t much I could do about it.

When we got back to the house and my trap hadn’t been broken, we went inside. Though, I was always a little worried an intruder would spot it, fix it and I’d be none the wiser. I looked around and listened for anything out of the ordinary, but didn’t bother to do a full check of the place. I didn’t want to give into my ever-increasing paranoia. Since nothing had been obviously disturbed, it was unlikely that anyone had been inside my cabin.

Penn put his hand on my back, “Maybe tomorrow. We’ll find them.” He smiled at me as if nothing had happened. I didn’t know what to say or how to react. I had questions, and I didn’t think I’d be satisfied with any of the answers he’d give.

We hadn’t gotten any closer to HOME. Penn killed a man. I don’t think I could have felt as though I had drifted further away from my friends than I had at that moment.

Penn prepared dinner which was canned tomato soup, something I had grabbed from a random gas station months ago. It was always canned soups or preservative-filled dry goods. The soup had probably expired a long time ago, but I never even bothered to check the dates any more. Food was food, and you had to take what you could get. It was without a doubt for the best that I couldn’t remember what a cheeseburger tasted like any more, but for some reason that didn’t stop me from wanting one.

“We have to talk about what happened today,” Penn said breaking the silence.

I pushed my food away from me as if the thought of talking about it made me lose my appetite. It hadn’t. Pretty sure there wasn’t much that could make an almost starving person lose their appetite.

“Not much to talk about. You killed a man… with my gun, and without much provocation. At least as far as I’m concerned. Oh and let’s not forget you somehow removed my gun from under my coat and out of my waistband. Without me knowing. What on earth could we have to talk about?” I said with so much sarcasm it dripped out of the corners of my mouth and into my soup.

“I can explain,” he said waving his hand at me, as he took another spoonful of soup.

“Of course you can,” I mumbled. Did it matter if he did? I didn’t think I’d be able to believe anything he’d say anyway.

“My dad was a cop,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He looked into my eyes, but I quickly shifted them back down to my bowl.

“OH! Well then… that expla—”

“And before that he had been in the military. He was a big gun enthusiast. He took both me and my sister to the shooting ranges. It started when we were pretty young, seven or eight. We did it together as a family. My dad considered it to be spending quality time with us. Anyway, he thought that if we were going to be around guns all the time we should know how to use them correctly, and safely.”

I pulled my bowl closer and started eating again. True story or not, my stomach didn’t care. After all the walking we had done today, I needed to eat. I glanced up at him waiting for more of his tale. I wanted him to know that wasn’t enough to satisfy me in explaining his gun thieving abilities. All his story had done was explain why his shot had been so accurate, nothing more.

“Eventually, I got into the competitions, I won several in fact. I can hit my target with a wide range of guns. Although, with the lack of practice I can tell I’m starting to get rusty,” he said standing up to rinse out his bowl. He put it in the cupboard and sat back down resting his forearm on the table.

“OK I get that you know how to use guns. I had that figured out when you told me the story about your family. But what I don’t get is how you disarmed me so easily, or even why,” I dropped my spoon and it clanked hard against the bowl. “And, in my opinion, it was awfully easy for you to take that man’s life.”

He looked away from me as if maybe he was trying to hide something from me, “Well obviously I didn’t want to kill anyone. I didn’t set out today thinking it seemed like a good day to shoot someone, but if it’s us or him that takes a bullet, it’s always going to be him. I saw his finger move, and I reacted.” Penn reached across the table and raised my chin with his finger so our eyes met. “Look, no normal person likes killing another, me included, but after what I’ve been through, I believe with all my heart he was going to shoot me and take you. I wasn’t going to let that happen.”