More than Survival (A Zombie Apocalypse Love Story Book 1) Page 3

  By afternoon I’d managed to get all my main chores done, so I went out back to the shed to feed the animals. Seamus usually did it, but since he hadn’t come home it was up to me. No matter how much the dread grew in my stomach with each passing hour, I couldn’t let the animals suffer. They were counting on me, and I needed them so I could survive.

  During the morning a light snow had started to fall, covering the forest around me in a thin blanket. Our cabin was secluded, high up in the mountains where there had been little to no civilization before the virus wiped everything out. Uncle Seamus had always lived here alone, coming to our house only on holidays or special occasions. The nearest settlement was a good four hours away on horseback, and a bit longer coming back since it was an uphill climb and he had to work to avoid his own traps. As far as I knew, there was no one else living within ten miles of us. The silence and seclusion had never felt as heavy as it did now, though. The only sounds around me were the clinking of branches as they swayed, the rustling of leaves as animals dug for food or searched for shelter, and the howl of the wind as it swirled through the yard. It’s tone was threatening. Like it was warning me of what it was about to drop down on my head.

  I walked faster, pulling my coat closer to my body and keeping my face down.

  The rabbits scurried around in their pen when I stepped into the shed, and Nelly let out a loud neigh that seemed to shake the tiny building. We were fortunate to have any animals at all, but we’d been hoping to get a few pigs come spring. Maybe a goat so we didn’t have to trade for milk, although that would be expensive and something my soap couldn’t buy.

  Once the rabbits were fed and I’d dropped some more straw in their pen—it was about to get really cold out there and I wanted them to have the extra bedding—I stopped in front Nelly. I patted the horse on the head and she blew air out of her nostrils like she was angry.

  I let out a sigh. “I know you miss your buddy, but I’m sure they’ll be back soon. Uncle Seamus would never let anything happen to Max.”

  Nelly snorted again, and my stomach dropped.

  Why did it feel like she knew something I didn’t?

  Back inside I tried to read my book, but I couldn’t focus. The words swirled around on the page, jumbling together until nothing made sense. I read one paragraph three times in a row before I finally gave up. Until Seamus came back I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on the story.

  Only he didn’t come back. The sun set and I ate a bowl of stew by myself, dunking my bread in it while I stared out the window. It tasted like dirt and my stomach gurgled like it was angry to have the company. I needed to eat, but I was also afraid I’d throw up if I forced too much down. The bowl was still half full when I pushed it aside.

  Night passed in a fitful sleep that was filled with long shadows and growling animals, and when morning came Seamus still hadn’t returned. On my second day alone I did nothing but sit by the fire in my pajamas, listening to the quiet emptiness of the house as more snow fell outside. The absence of my uncle’s pounding footsteps made me feel more alone than I had in my entire life, and I’d watched both my parents die in a matter of weeks. This was different, though. This was me realizing for the first time that I didn’t have anyone, and it scared me so much I could barely breathe. I knew Seamus wasn’t coming back, but I didn’t know how to deal with it. All the carefully thought-out plans he’d made seemed stupid now. Pointless.

  Days passed and I stuck to a routine to make the shock of the loss less intense. It didn’t help ease the pain, but it did make the days go by faster. Soon a week had come and gone, then two. By the time I realized that the silence in the cabin had begun to feel almost normal, Seamus had been gone for three weeks.

  In the meantime winter swept in, dumping a foot of snow on the cabin and adding to my workload. It kept me busier than ever and my focus off the things I didn’t want to think about. Like what I’d do when I ran out of supplies. I knew when spring came I’d have to go to town on my own so I could trade, and just thinking about it scared me. Seamus had left a map and specific instructions about who to deal with and how to act, as well as what to wear. That was the part that scared me the most.

  Any free time I had was spent curled up in front of the fire, rereading the books Seamus had brought me over the years. I had everything from classics to crime novels to stories about vampires that sparkled in the sun, but the romances were my favorite. Stories of men sweeping women off their feet and saving them from fates worse than death. When I read those I couldn’t help wishing the same thing would happen for me. That one day I’d wake up to find a big, strong man in the cabin. One who would protect me and take the burden off my shoulders. With him by my side, I could live a normal life.

  Deep down, I didn’t really believe it.

  Seamus had taught me to hunt, and four weeks after he’d disappeared I decided it was something I needed to do if I was going to keep food in my stomach. I had the rabbits, but we killed them sparingly in the winter. The animals bred fast in summer, but winter not as much, and even though I had close to a dozen of them, they wouldn’t last me all winter long. The snow was thick, but not too bad yet, but the deeper we got into winter the worse it would get. Saving the rabbits for later was wise.

  I bundled up, putting on two layers of wool socks and a couple shirts before pulling my wool sweater on. The three layers on my legs made my steps feel stiff and lazy, but it would keep me warm. When I went out to hunt it could be hours before I even came across an animal, and I would need the extra insulation against the cold.

  The coat I pulled on was too big, making it possible to button it over my bulky clothes, and the hat and scarf were both things I had knitted for Seamus the previous Christmas. The last thing I put on before I stepped out into the cold winter day was a pair of thick gloves.

  My small bow was clutched tightly in my gloved hand as I pushed my way through the snow. It was past my shins already, and even deeper in the drifts that ran along the fence. The gate creaked when I headed out, and again when I shut it securely behind me. Even though the dead were definitely frozen by now, it was habit to shut it when I left.

  I didn’t wander too far from the fence before coming to the rocky area I usually rested on to hunt. I was eleven the first time Seamus took me out, and my uncle and I had sat on this very rock for hours while we waited for an animal to come by. He’d spent weeks teaching me to shoot the bow before allowing me to go with him, and I’d been thrilled to finally tag along. The day had been long and more boring than I’d expected though, and I’d just started to nod off when a deer stepped into the clearing only ten feet away. Seamus had stiffened ever so slightly at my side, and I had inhaled a slow, deep breath as I raised my bow. I worked hard to remember everything he’d taught me so I didn’t scare the animal away as I took aim. When I released the arrow, it pierced the deer exactly where I’d wanted it to, and I knew I’d gotten it in the heart. The thing jumped and took off running, but the smile on Seamus’s face told me I’d done well.

  We’d only had to track it for about ten minutes before coming across the body, and the stew we’d made that week had been the best I’d ever had. Plus, Seamus had been able to make quite a bit of deer jerky. Something that was essential during the hard winter months.

  Sitting on the rock by myself with the snow falling around me, I did my best to stay focused and not think of my uncle. Missing him would only distract me and make the time drag on.

  I got lucky and after only thirty minutes a large rabbit hopped into view. They were harder to hit with my bow, but easier for me to carry back on my own and skin. I was used to eating rabbit, even if venison was better, and making the kill would be fast and easy for me.

  Just like the first time I’d gone out with Seamus, I managed to kill the animal without much effort. The storm picked up as I skinned and cleaned him, and by the time I trudged back to the cabin the snow was so thick I could hardly see.

  I woke up the next morning shivering
more than usual, and when I managed to stumble out into the living room—with the small throw wrapped around my shoulders—I saw why. The fire was nothing more than a few glowing embers. The night before I’d gone to bed early, exhausted after my long day of chores, hunting, and preparing the stew. I must have forgotten to tend to the fire before turning in.

  Even worse: there was no firewood piled up on the hearth, and when I stumbled into the kitchen I found only two small logs. I froze, trying to remember how much had been piled by the shed the last time I’d been out there. Seamus had been gone for nearly a month, meaning I had to be getting to the end of the wood he’d chopped, and the little bit that was out there wouldn’t be dry. Especially not with all the snow that had most likely fallen while I was asleep. Even with a real fire going it could take all day for the wood to dry out, but with only two small logs to burn it would take even longer.

  How could I have been so stupid? I’d been trying to keep up with all the chores since Seamus disappeared, but I just wasn’t used to doing it all on my own. The first few weeks it had been like an obsession, working from sun up to sun down, just so I didn’t have to think about how alone I was. But after the shock had worn off and things had gotten a bit easier, I had found myself slacking off a bit. Still doing what I needed to survive—at least I’d thought so anyway—but allowing myself a break at the end of the day as well. I had no clue how I’d missed how low the wood pile had gotten yesterday, but I had, and now I was in trouble.

  I threw one of the two logs onto the fire before hurrying to my room to get dressed. My stomach growled angrily, but I ignored it. Food wasn’t a priority. If I didn’t get more wood dried there would be no fire, then I could forget starving. I’d freeze. It had snowed all night and I had no doubt that at least another foot had been dumped on the cabin while I slept.

  The snow was past my knees when I stumbled outside, but I pushed myself through and headed for the shed. Getting as much inside the house as possible would be my first priority, then I’d have to find more. The snow was deep, but it was still falling steadily, and the deeper it got the more difficult it would be for me to find wood.

  I carried a load of logs through the yard and into the kitchen, then went back for more. Each pass was easier thanks to the path I’d made through the snow, but by the time I’d carried in every log my uncle had cut before disappearing, my fingers were numb. The gloves I’d worn the previous day were the thickest pair I had, but they were still wet from hunting. These didn’t do much to protect my digits from the cold.

  I laid several logs out in front of the fire in hopes that they would dry faster, but I didn’t have time to rest. With each passing second the wind picked up, and the harder it blew the more the snow came down. We were on the verge of a blizzard. There wasn’t much time to find more wood.

  Back outside I went, shivering from head to toe. My teeth chattered, but I did my best to ignore it, pulling my scarf tighter around my nose and mouth. Hoping to block out the wind. The cold stung my eyes and the tip of my nose had lost all feeling. So had my toes and fingers. My gloves were already wet from the snow, and I knew I needed to be back inside fast. I couldn’t risk frostbite or hypothermia.

  But I needed more wood.

  I shuffled through the snow and past the shed, the gate once again creaking when I opened it. In the woods I picked sticks up off the ground, pulling them out from underneath the snow as I walked. My arms were soon full and I was able to make a trip back inside, but I wanted to bring in a couple more armfuls so I wouldn’t have to dig through a few feet of snow later on. Anything to make my life easier.

  After the third trip I considered stopping, but the amount of snow that was now coming down frightened me. It could trap me in the house and then I’d be in real trouble. If that happened I’d have to resort to burning my books, then the furniture, which I might never be able to replace.

  I was hurrying through the woods, my arms loaded down with sticks and my feet tripping over branches and rocks buried by the snow. The toe of my boot caught on something and I felt my body lurch forward. I gasped as I fell, throwing my arms out in front of me to brace myself. Only they were full, and when my body slammed into the ground a sharp pain sliced through my left shoulder. A scream ripped its way out of me, echoing through the woods and my head, which pounded with every beat of my heart. My palms were flat against the ground and my arms shook as pain rolled through me. The snow was coming down so hard that I had a difficult time seeing three feet in front of my face, but it couldn’t hide the splatters of red dotting the snow beneath me.

  I rolled onto my back and grabbed at my throbbing shoulder only to have my stomach jump to my throat. My numb and trembling fingers wrapped around the branch that jutted out of my skin, just under my left collarbone. Just thinking about the sharp stick piercing my body made my stomach lurch so hard I had a difficult time controlling it. I closed my eyes and swallowed down the nausea, trying to figure out what to do. I needed to pull the stick out, but it was going to hurt like hell. As it was, the throbbing pain in my shoulder and chest was so intense that I felt on the verge of passing out.

  My whole body shook when I wrapped my hand around the stick, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the pain. Maybe both, but I knew I needed to get moving. My skin was like ice and I was bleeding, only I didn’t know how bad the injury was. I wrapped my other hand around the stick as well and took a deep breath, then tugged. White-hot pain ripped through my body as a scream tore its way from my mouth.

  The edges of my vision grew dark and the sounds of the forest faded…

  I blinked and shook my head, bringing the world around me back into focus. The branch was still lodged in my skin and I wasn’t dumb enough to try pulling it out again. I had to get inside first. I had to get to my feet. I had to find the cabin.

  I rolled to my side in the snow and pain throbbed through me. Tears squeezed their way out of my eyes, freezing on my cheeks, and shivers shook my body. I had to get up.

  “Move! You can do this, Lucy!”

  I tried to get on my hands and knees, but the branch pressed against the ground, causing more pain to slice through me. My stomach lurched when more blood dropped onto the white snow. My head spun, but I forced myself to get to my feet. The forest swayed, a blinding world of white that made it impossible to find my bearing. I leaned against a tree and looked around, determined to get to my cabin, only I had no idea which way to go. The snow made everything look the same and it was coming down so hard I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me.

  I was lost.

  I stumbled forward a few steps, but had to lean against another tree for support. My vision faded and I blinked. My eyes didn’t focus any better. I forced my legs to move, trying to block out the blinding pain as the wind blew against the branch jutting out of me. It would be better if I could get it out, but if I tried to pull on it again I’d pass out for sure. Then I’d be dead.

  My feet felt like they were moving on their own as I made my way through the snow, but after a couple more steps my legs wobbled and gave out. I collapsed, falling forward. The branch hit the ground and I screamed in agony as pain tore at my shoulder.

  This time when darkness moved in, I couldn’t stop it…

  “Shhh. I’ve got you.”

  The words came from far away, and I tried to open my eyes, but couldn’t. Someone touched my throbbing shoulder, their hands gentle.

  “Damn. Looks like you got yourself in quite a mess.” Whoever it was had a deep voice, but it was softer than Seamus’s. More gentle. “This is going to hurt.”

  I felt pressure on the stick and every muscle inside me tensed, then there was a snap. The stick moved inside my body and stars burst across my already dark vision. I screamed again.

  “I’m sorry,” the man said just before darkness closed in around me.

  Chapter 3

  SAWYER

  The snow was coming down so thick that I couldn’t see more than a few fee
t in front of me and my feet had passed the point of numb. My fingers were even worse, though. They’d passed numb an hour ago and had now moved on to aching. It was bad. Real bad. When I’d left my cabin this morning I’d had a feeling it wasn’t a good idea, but had gone anyway. After all, we were still in early winter and I thought I’d had time before the heavy snow moved in. It was my last chance, or so I’d thought, to make it to town before I got snowed in completely. Being so high in the mountains made it impossible to get out once winter really hit.

  Like it had now.

  “Shit.”

  I stopped walking and turned in a slow circle, trying to find something that looked familiar. There was nothing, though. With the white flakes falling from the sky the way they were, I’d be fortunate to find a place to take shelter. If I managed to find my cabin in all this, I’d be the luckiest asshole alive.

  I was still trying to figure out where to go next when a sound broke through the silence, echoing off the trees and mountains around me and making it impossible to know where it had come from.

  “Was that a scream?”

  Talking to myself had become a habit thanks to years of being alone, but thank God I wasn’t crazy enough to answer myself. Yet. Instead, I held my breath and strained my ears, hoping to hear whatever the sound had been again or at the very least another noise that helped me figure out where it had come from. If there was a person nearby, that had to mean there was a shelter of some kind. I hadn’t really thought anyone but me was dumb enough to live all the way up here, but anything was possible.

  Less than a minute passed before another scream echoed through the forest, only this time I was ready for it. I took off to the left, dodging branches and fallen logs as I went, keeping my ears open. The wind was blowing hard and was as cold as shit, but when it carried a voice toward me I was glad for the help.