The Last Legacy (Season 1): Episodes 1-10 (45 page)

“I worked a lot of long hours and made my body tired. I’d go home, drink whisky, then pass out. Repeat Monday through Friday. Weekends sometimes I’d go to John’s. He had a wife, you know?”

“Your brother did?” I cocked my head, because so far all I knew about the evil man was that he raped women, kidnapped me, looted houses, and overall was just a shitty, conniving, murderous person. I didn’t really want to hear about him before the outbreak. I didn’t want to humanize him in my mind. But my curiosity was too vast.

“He wasn’t like this before. Things turned bad fast. After his wife was eaten, it was like a switch flipped in his head. We watched our families get murdered in the most revolting way. I’m not justifying what he’s done, but I experienced some of his pain.”

“What was his wife like?” I should’ve shut my mouth. This man who had most likely raped Scarlet, attempted to rape me, and held women captive had a wife. How does someone change that much in just a few short days?

“Johanna was a sweetheart. She painted for local stores, mostly watercolor pieces and greeting cards. She’d watch my dog when I was at work. Probably only thing I ever loved,” he said as his head fell back against the wood plank. He looked up at the ceiling like he was reminiscing.
 

“You loved her?” I glanced up at him.

“No, the dog. Whisky was like my child, only thing I ever had to take responsibility for. The girl never left my side.”

“What happened to her?” I asked. My throat choked up.
 

“Ran away, got eaten. Not sure. We had to escape the mill after my parents and most of the workers were eaten. Nobody knew what the people were doing, why they were trying to kill us. John and I took off with Kev and a few other guys in my truck. I had to leave her back there when I couldn’t find her near the house.”

“I’m so sorry,” I told him. Sorrowful waves pulsed from his body. His fingers twisted the hem of his sweatshirt, balling the fabric. I decided to drop the subject. “Why don’t you nap? I’m going to read a little bit.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. I’d never seen him torn up before, and the transformation jarred me. He always gave off such a leader-vibe, strong and concise in his arguments. But with his eyes perked, he appeared young and vulnerable.
 

“Positive.” I leaned forward, kissing his lips. I tried to push all my love and hope into him, wanting to transfer it. He rolled onto his hip and rested his head on my lap. I stretched my legs forward, crossing them at the ankle as I turned on the lantern and opened my new book.
 

About two hours later and halfway through the book, the sun started to stream through the red-tinted window. Jim snored on my lap, drool soaking my leg, but I didn’t care much. I folded the corner of the page I had last read and tucked the book behind my back.
 

I stroked his grown-out hair as I stared down at him, watching him sleep. I found myself wondering how his nose got broken so badly. There was a clear break above the ridge, the bottom half tweaking a little to the left. His eyebrows were way too bushy, looking like fuzzy caterpillars, but mine were probably just as bad.
 

There was a scar above his eyebrow. His rosy cheeks had sunken since I first met him. He wasn’t eating nearly enough for a man as large as he was, but we had to conserve what we had, so I didn’t think there was anything I could do. His facial hair had begun to take over his face, a beard growing out from weeks of not shaving.
 

Gabe was first to awaken. He slept farthest back from the front of the store, covering the back end from eaters. He sat up, stretched wide, and then looked around. I snapped my fingers to get his attention. He tilted his head to the side as he glanced at Jim and then back up at me.
 

He grabbed a bottle of water from his bag and maneuvered around the sleeping bodies towards me. He sat down across from me against an empty rack. “How long you been watching?” he asked as he took a large sip. His eyes drooped, bags puffing underneath.
 

“Few hours. Jim was up most of the night so I gave him a break.”

“You could’ve asked me,” he whispered.

“I know, but you need your energy for today. We have a long way to go.” I ran my fingers over Jim’s hair-covered cheek.
 

“She needs this.”
 

I cocked my head, confused by his statement.
 

“To find her sister. I don’t know what’ll happen if she’s gone or dead. I think Scarlet will lose her mind.”

“I agree.” I nodded.

“Should we run a perimeter check and then wake them all up?” Gabe nodded towards the back door.

“Sounds good. Let me throw on another jacket. It’s cold out.”

“Meet at the back door.” I scooted to the side, laying Jim’s head on the floor without jostling him too much. He grumbled in his sleep, but tucked his hands under his head and curled up in the fetal position. I grabbed my book and the lantern off the floor and put them into my backpack so I’d have them later. I pulled on a camouflage jacket and a new pair of socks and laced up my shoes before I ran around the sleeping bodies and out the back door.
 

“What the fuck?” My reaction was immediate. I retched, turned my head to the side so I wouldn’t throw up on Gabriel. Above us was a hangover roof with wooden planks that ran to the edge of the roof. Attached to a plank was a long rope and Michael’s dangling body.

“We can’t tell anyone,” Gabriel whispered. He grabbed onto Mike’s body, trying to get it down from the rafters. I didn’t think I could help, my stomach still churning. But he was right. Marcus could never see this. The others didn’t need to be worried.

Without looking up at Michael’s eyes, I held onto his hips while Gabe reached up and untied the loose knot. “I’m surprised it held his body. Should’ve come undone with his weight.”

“How are you so calm?” I hissed as I tried to breathe through my nose. It wasn’t like he smelled or anything, but touching a dead body made my psyche all sorts of messed up.
 

And then I felt it.
 

Michael’s hand moved around my back, grabbing onto my sweater and pulling on it. “Gabriel,” I whispered, my heart pounding in my ears as I stepped backwards. I pushed Michael’s body away from me, and it fell to the ground making a loud thump. He began to move in slow motion as if he just discovered that he could.

His normally green eyes darted open, now red and gray. I stepped back. My breathing picked up as panic overwhelmed me. How was this possible? I scanned him up and down searching for a bite or some sort of scratch, but his clothes were unharmed, no visible blood on him. Gabriel reached into his back pocket, producing his knife, and then stuck it right through Michael’s left eye. I couldn’t hold it in.
 

I turned again and threw up whatever was in my stomach—which was nothing. Greenish mucus-like bile came out of my stomach, emptying onto the dirt. I clutched my stomach, trying to be as quiet as possible as I continued to dry heave onto the ground.
 

My throat burned, my stomach shaking it hurt so bad. I turned around and saw Gabriel dragging Michael towards the next building over. Gabe grunted as he lifted Mike’s dead body. I ran over and got one of Mike’s arms, helping Gabe drag him through the dirt.
 

“Let’s check it fast,” Gabe said as he leaned Michael’s body against the outer brick wall. I pulled out my knife and held it in front of me as Gabe walked in through the back door first. The back kitchen had been ransacked, appearing to have been lived in not too long ago by the ash on the black tiled floor.

“Someone was here,” Gabe said as he tugged out his gun. I copied his movements, doing the same thing with my gun. I rummaged through the cabinets while Gabe fished around in a storage closet.
 

After we cleared the empty kitchen, I followed Gabe into the front area that appeared to be a cafe. Four-person square tables sat untouched with chairs surrounding them. The cash register had been emptied of all money. The small display case was full of moldy pastries.

“We’re leaving the body here?” I asked as I holstered my weapon. I trailed behind Gabe to Mike’s body outside. Each of us grabbed an arm and tugged him into the kitchen. We dropped the body near the far wall, hidden from anyone who might check the place out.
 

“Let’s get back. We don’t want anyone to notice we’re gone. Don’t tell anyone about this.” Gabe’s eyes were hard, serious and firm as they met mine.
 

“Not even Jim?”

“We can tell Jim. That’s it though. They won’t understand.”

“I don’t want Marcus to find out,” I said, knowing it would crush him. Losing his mother was hard enough. Losing his sister made it worse. But the one person he had left was his father, who chose to walk out on him. I hated Michael for the coward he had become.

“He’s going to have questions,” Gabe said. I stepped over a loose root, nearly tripping. Gabe grabbed my elbow to steady me.
 

“We tell him that Michael was gone when we woke up. We act like he’s just missing. It keeps Marcus hopeful. After a while, he’ll just get used to it or something. I don’t know. Is that a good idea?” I rambled, but I didn’t know how to navigate this complicated situation. My stomach throbbed with emptiness. It was hard to focus on much else.
 

“Okay. He’s missing. Don’t waver.”

“Got it.” I nodded.
 

When we stepped back into the store through the back door, there was movement. Everyone had woken, drinking waters and sitting. Jim stood near the front window, his rifle in his arms. His back was to us, his backpack hiked high up over his shoulders.

“Where were you, Miss Lana?” Marcus asked as he jumped out of his sleeping bag. He ran to my side.

“We were checking the perimeter. All’s good.” I wrapped my arm around his slender shoulders and faked a smile. My stomach still ached.
 

“Where’s my dad?” he asked, peeking around Gabe and me.
 

“We don’t know. He was gone when we woke up. Must’ve left late at night,” Gabe said, his voice unwavering. His lying capabilities frightened me.

“He’s just gone?” Marcus’s voice cracked like he was on the verge of crying. I squeezed him closer, hoping my comfort would make him feel better.

“Maybe he went ahead to make sure the road was clear. He could be anywhere, Marcus. We have to get moving. Hopefully we’ll catch up to your dad,” Jim said, catching on.
 

When Marcus wasn’t looking, Jim shot me a questioning glare, his eyes narrowed on me. I widened my eyes to get him to shut up. But nodded.

With Gavin limping along, panting like he was about to have a heart attack, and Scarlet whimpering with each step, we weren’t making enough ground to make it to the coast today. My motivation lacked, exhausted from being up most of the night.

“Let’s find a place to spend the afternoon. An hour or so break during the hottest point of the day will help. We’ll eat some lunch and then move again.” Jim veered off the middle of the highway and off exit 34.
 

Boutique stores, fast food restaurants, and big chains lined both sides of the four lane road. I put my hand on my knife, thinking a more populated area equaled more eaters.
 

“Let’s go there.” Gabe pointed towards a small modern church with a pointed A-frame roof and brick walls. It was sandwiched between a department store and grocery store, set back from the road with a green courtyard in front. Nobody objected, so we ran for it, not wanting to run into any eaters on the way.
 

Jim ushered us through the unharmed front door, holding it and waiting outside. He shut it behind us, making sure the click was near non-existent. The church was warm, with light accents. A few brochures were on the front table, everything untouched.
 

“Pray and leave,” someone said from the main area. Her voice boomed, echoing against the high ceilings. Jim cocked his gun and stepped forward near the pews. I followed behind him, Gabe to my side.
 

The church could easily hold a couple hundred people with rows and rows of seating. I didn’t really believe in much, but the enormity of the place surprised me. Clearly many people used to come and worship here.
 

The woman’s head poked up from front pew, her head bowed as she knelt on the ground. Her hands were clasped like a rock. She must’ve heard our footsteps because she turned her head towards us.
 

“Pray and leave. Or just leave. This is no place for war,” she said, nodding to us. Her light eyes were empty, uncaring.
 

“Can we rest here?” Jim asked, his voice soft.

“How long?” she asked as she stood. She wore black robes, all long-sleeved and layered on top of one another. The skirt part of her dress flowed to her ankles, black patent leather flats on her feet showing. Her hair was short and gray, curling around her ears.
 

“An hour?” Jim shrugged, trying to bargain with the priest.