Read The Last Legacy (Season 1): Episodes 1-10 Online
Authors: Taylor Lavati
Tags: #Science Fiction | Post-Apocalyptic
“I don’t have to prove anything to you. But I can assure you I’ve lived through some terrible things. Try spending your adolescence as a girl in foster care. The things I’ve seen…” My body actually shuddered at my memories surfacing.
“I love her so much.” He shook his head as tears fell down his face. I had to re-think what he had said. Gone was the man who spewed anger. Instead Mike was a wreck. His lip trembled as he struggled to keep it together. “She was the only reason I even wanted to live through this war. Now I have nothing.”
“That’s not true.” I shook my head but didn’t want to get too close. He was volatile. I feared what he might do if I pushed him too far. I knew from experience the repercussions. “You have Marcus.”
“And Maggie.”
“Maggie isn’t going to make it much longer, Michael.” I didn’t want to lie to him. He needed to be strong and prepared to console Marcus and live with her absence. He was the adult here. “She was bitten. You saw what happened with Kev. You should say goodbye while you still can.” Just then, the thought of what Gabe was doing in the hut hit me. Michael wasn’t going to be able to say goodbye. They were in the middle of killing her right now. I had to stop them.
“Lana! Michael! Come! Something’s wrong!”
I widened my eyes as my mouth dropped open. They already did it. Holy shit. This was going to blow up in our faces. I bit my lip to maintain my control. Michael wasn’t going to be able to survive this. Both his wife and daughter died in one day. Nobody could handle such a tragedy.
Michael shoved past me. I chased after him. Tears ran down my cheeks in rivers. I had to do something. Mike tore open the front door, and it clattered against the metal.
Jim stood in the center of the room with his arms dangling by his sides. Gabe hunched over Maggie’s body. I could tell he acted through the part, pretending to take care of her, genuinely worried about her heath.
“What’s going on?” Michael dropped to his knees beside his daughter.
“She just stopped breathing for a second. I thought she might start seizing so I got her on her side and held her down. But she’s grunting. I don’t know what’s going on.” Gabe paused and ran his fingers through his messy hair. He shook his head in fake confusion. “The only thing I can think of is that she’s changing faster since she’s so young. But I don’t know what’s happening.”
I had to give it to Gabriel. The lies rolled of his tongue so honestly I believed him. He sold his story like it was truth. He had killed her in cold blood with his bare hands, but right now, he was just a concerned doctor. My trust in Gabe plummeted.
“My baby girl. She looks just like Margaret, doesn’t she?” Michael held onto Maggie’s head, brushing his hands over her hair, patting it down. More tears blurred my vision as the scene unfolded. I didn’t dare leave the doorway.
“Michael, this is the time to say goodbye,” I told him, trying to keep my voice from shaking. But it was useless. I was a wreck. But more so, I was scared. I didn’t know what would happen now with Mike’s sanity.
“Goodbye, my last love.”
Michael pulled out a knife from his pocket and plunged it into her ear. He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her face towards him. Their cheeks pressed against each other. He twisted the knife, pockets of air squishing and popping. I covered my mouth with my hand and ran from the hut. My stomach pinched, and I threw up, heaving against the side of the building. My throat burned as I choked on air.
“What’s the matter?” Jim followed me out. His hand pressed against the small of my back, his fingers drawing circles against my bare skin. My chest constricted again as the noises refused to quit sounding off in my head. Pop. Click. Squish.
“I’m fine. Go back in.” I didn’t want him to see me like this, hunched over and powerless. I didn’t want anyone to. Seeing that girl be murdered, knowing what Gabe had done, tore at my soul. My body ached at the viciousness behind it. I knew it was all in self-preservation, but she was just a child. I couldn’t imagine having to do it to Marcus.
I had to get a grip on my emotions. I couldn’t care. The good of the group outweighed the good of the single. It was a fact of life now. People died, and that was that. It should’ve been second nature by now. I had killed, so why was I so affected?
Yet I did care. I cared about Jim and Marcus and Gavin and Scarlet. Scarlet. Where was she? Who knew where she had run off to, if she was alive, or whatever else could’ve happened. Odds were we’d never find her again. Yet this one little shred in the depths of my psyche knew we’d find her. Ignorant hope made me care. Yet why would she leave us? I knew that she was upset over Kev’s death, but I only tried to support her. She lashed out at me. She showed her emotions—not me.
“Lana?” Jim’s hand on my shoulder jolted me out of my thoughts.
“I’m fine. Just a minor break down.” With my back still facing him, I stood and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. It wasn’t like I had anything to throw up, but I still felt gross.
“What’s really going on?”
“That’s it. It’s just a lot, you know?” I shrugged, turning to face him.
“Yeah, I know.” He nodded, but from the sharpness in his eyes, I knew he didn’t understand me. How could he? He thrived, enjoyed conquering. I’m sure it affected him, but he was more skilled at hiding it, masking it, ignoring it.
“Miss Lana!”
I turned towards the voice. Marcus sprinted towards me, a hobbling Gavin trailing behind him. I shook my head to switch mind-sets. I plastered a smile on my face and crouched down to receive him. He skidded to a stop.
“What’s up, buddy?” I asked. Jim swayed beside me awkwardly and took a step backwards. I wasn’t sure if it was Marcus or the fact that he was a child, but Jim appeared uncomfortable.
“We saw fish swimming under water. They pushed their mouths against the top!” Marcus laughed, and his happiness brought tears to my eyes. I averted my eyes to the sky to stop tears and wiped under my lids.
Marcus was so innocent. I didn’t want him to know that his father killed his younger sister. Sure, it would open his eyes to what was going on around him. But he was so young. I pulled Marcus towards me and held him tight.
“Miss Lana, I worked real hard with Mr. Gavin getting some wood for a fire.” I let go of him. He twisted his hands together, flipping his fingers around and fidgeting. “Do you think I can have another treat, maybe?” He reached forward, grabbing onto my hand, driving his point home.
“Sure, sweetie. Stay here, okay?” I turned to make Jim get the treats, but he was gone—Gavin, too. I didn’t want to go into the house and see Maggie on the ground. I couldn’t face Mike without getting upset. But Marcus deserved his treat since he did the work.
I grabbed Marcus by the shoulders and pressed his back against the hut. He faced the road, which had perfect visibility and kept his back covered. I wouldn’t be long, but I wouldn’t risk his life. He nodded up at me as I let him go and turned around.
Pulling open the door to the house, I saw everyone all piled into the small area. Michael held his now-dead daughter in his arms. He cradled her body across his lap, her head resting against his chest. He stroked her hair with his large hand.
Jim and Gabe sat on some boxes in the opposite corner. Jim leaned over and whispered something to him. Gabe nodded in response. Gavin stood near the door, closest to me. He rummaged through a small box of fishing supplies.
“Marcus is hungry.” Everyone’s head jerked towards the sound of my voice. I stepped into the hut and shut the door behind me, making sure Marcus wouldn’t get curious and walk in. “Are we staying the night?”
“I think we should. Scarlet could be anywhere. We’ll search around, then leave first thing in the morning,” Jim said as his eyes cut up to mine.
“Where are we going? We can’t go to Scarlet’s sister’s if we don’t know where she lives. We don’t have anywhere to go now. We might as well stay.” I crossed the room and found the box of chocolates on the top shelf. I fished out a bar for Marcus and one for myself, stuffing them in my front pocket.
“We can’t stay here long. We won’t last a New England winter without heat and water and food. South is the only way we can survive this year,” Jim said with regret in his tone. “You agreed before,” he said to me. Gabe nodded beside him, like they had thought up the plan together.
“We’ll never make it through the larger cities. I was stupid before. We’re all weak and hungry and cold. We have no options left.” To get south we’d have to pass through New York City. I knew from watching enough movies that that would be the worst idea ever. It felt like they were all against me, the men siding with each other. “It would take us months.”
I didn’t want to freeze to death. But I didn’t want to leave Scarlet, either. She could be somewhere close-by. She might need help. We were only in September and the air chilled. In a month or two, we’d be enduring snow storms without anything to keep us safe and warm. The eaters thrived in cool temperatures, too. They’re be harder to kill, faster to run from.
“Right now, we’re waiting out to see if your friend, Scarlet, will come back. They’ll search, but without knowing her motives, it’ll be impossible to find her. I’ll go build a fire,” Gavin said. He put his hand on my shoulder as he passed by me out the door, hobbling.
“I’m going to give this to Marcus. Let me know if you need any help with—you know.” I scurried out of the hut, not wanting to discuss the dilemma of where to go. Squatting in a house felt safer, more secure. But at the same time, I knew we’d be constantly struggling. South sounded great and all, but at what cost—months of travel and insecurity?
I found Marcus right where I had left him, standing with his back to the wall. Tears streamed down his cheeks. When he saw me, he wiped them away fast. He smiled, but didn’t budge.
“You okay?” I asked even though I knew the answer.
“Yeah,” he answered. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t a compassionate person. I didn’t do well with empathy and making people feel better. I was awkward in that sense. But Marcus was a child who lost his sister and mother. He needed support.
“You want to talk?”
He shook his head hard. He sniffed in. “I don’t talk about my feelings. I’m supposed to only cry in my bed at night.”
My heart squeezed at his words. Who taught him this? “You can cry whenever you want. You don’t have to hold it in,” I told him.
“I don’t want to talk, Miss Lana.” His voice came out quiet, but firm. I didn’t want to push him. I didn’t know him well enough to pry. I figured he was just a child, if he wanted to talk about it, he would.
So instead of annoying him, I decided to divert his attention. I pulled out the chocolate bars from my pocket, waving them around like a golden ticket. He hopped, clapping his hands. I passed one over to him.
“Thank you,” he said with a mouthful. He appeared happier. I broke off a rectangle from my bar and let it sit on my tongue and melt. I pressed my back to the building beside Marcus and stared down the road. The sun began to set behind it, hiding on the other side of the pavement.
When Marcus and I finished our bars, I took his hand and found Gavin near the door, piling sticks and leaves. I knelt down beside him to help. Marcus sat too.
“You ever started a fire before?” Gavin smiled up at me as he positioned the sticks in a triangle formation. They looked like a baby pyramid.
“With a lighter, not with two sticks and some leaves.”
“Want to try?” he asked, holding out the two sticks for me. I shrugged and took them. I had no idea what to do. He held my hand over the top stick, making sure it was perpendicular to the bottom. Together they made a long T. “Twist to cause friction. It’ll heat up. Then we shove leaves to hopefully catch the sparks.”
“Don’t we have flint or something?” I asked as he grabbed the bottom stick to hold it in place. He furrowed his brows, frowning at me. “I watch too much Survivor. But they hit a rock and it makes a spark. You know? It seems easier.”
“Don’t have it around here. Get twisting!” He crossed his legs in front of him and crouched over with his face near the sticks. I put the upright stick between my palms and began twisting it back and forth.
“I’ll tell you when to stop,” Gavin said, but his words were background noise. It wasn’t a smooth stick. So with each spin, a little knob jabbed into my left palm. The skin began to break, rubbing raw, but I wanted to start the fire. I wouldn’t stop until I had a flame.
I spun and spun and spun until my forehead literally sweat. My lower back ached from hunching over the small pit, sharp pains going up and down my body.
“Do you need a break?” Gavin asked. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t risk losing my concentration. I watched the spot the sticks clashed as it turned black and became hollowed. The constant circles hypnotized me.
“There ya go! It’s smoking!”
A white stream of smoke came up from the spot I stared at, swirling near my eyes. Gavin leaned over his feet and stuck a handful of leaves underneath. Then he grabbed some smaller sticks and shoved them around where I continued to spin.
From the edges of my vision, Gavin flipped to his side and blew lightly where the smoke started to emerge. Marcus mimicked Gavin as they whispered. I didn’t understand what they were talking about. About two minutes later, it sparked a small flicker of orange.
“Oh my God!” I yelled as I twisted with my numb arms and hands. I widened my eyes and stared as the fire began growing and igniting. I had done this with my bare hands. I was able to start a fire.