From Across Their Walls (Behind Our Walls Trilogy Book 2) Page 6

  "Yeah, well I needed to keep out of the way and not have to worry about people being nosy and stumbling over my place. No one makes it all the way out here. Besides, you guys were on foot, what's the problem with a little walking?"

  "What is it, some kind of cabin or something?" Mel asked.

  "It's an old army lookout station. At some point, someone dug out an area and made some ground cover to hide it. It's hard to spot unless you literally walk right past it. If you aren't looking for it, it's almost impossible to spot."

  "Bullshit."

  She shrugged. "You'll see it when we get there, I guess. Don't lag too far behind, though. I'm not going to be keeping an eye out for you and I want to get this over with."

  They walked on in silence. Heidi listened to the birds overhead, confident that the chance she needed would be provided somehow or she would end up dead and none of it would matter for long. Release herself into the void and put it all to rest. The sound of leaves and branches crunching underfoot sent a shiver up her back. Somehow the sound seemed to echo more loudly around them as they stomped towards whatever destination awaited. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing.

  "So where did you guys come from?" she asked as they walked. "Were you roommates or something?" She resisted the urge to giggle as she talked. "Security guards at the same roller rink? Fluffers for some guy's glory-hole film studio for—"

  "Shut the hell up!" Mel screamed at her, half raising the gun up as he did so.

  Now she was laughing. "I'm sorry. I just don't get where all this anger comes from. It's just a question. All this drama for a few cans of green beans? What, you're not quite bright enough to do anything better for yourselves?"

  "Lady, you've got one hell of a mouth on you if you think that—"

  "What the fuck is this?" the other one interrupted before Mel could finish.

  Heidi looked up to see that the woods had thinned out. Her nonsense story had just fallen apart as she looked down the slope onto the parking lot for a shopping mall, just a hundred yards away.

  They came to a halt and Mel turned to face her, his hand tightening on the gun. "Thought you said this place was out in the middle of the woods. Isolated and away from everything. So either you got lost or you're full of shit. Which one is it?"

  It wasn't ideal, not what she would have chosen. But fate had made this decision for her and she would have to do the best with what she had.

  "You didn't really think I was just going to show you where I live, did you?"

  In a wild, jerking motion, Mel's gun came around to bear on her. Before he could get far enough, her hand flashed out in an arc, meeting his wrist and knocking it to the side.

  "Dammit!" he screamed as he struggled to keep hold of the grip. Stepping in close, she brought up an elbow into his nose, hearing bones shatter as she did so. He howled and as he stepped back, she took hold of the gun hand and twisted it, pulling out as she did so. His fingers slipped loose and she grabbed the gun.

  Spinning back towards Mel, she brought a knee up into his groin, feeling him double over against her with a whoosh of exhaled air. She vaguely heard the shrieking cry of the other one as he began to flee into the woods. She brought the gun across Mel's head and he toppled back to the ground. Turning, Heidi brought the gun up, taking aim at the other as he ran. She took a moment to track his movement, to get comfortable with his stride before taking in a long breath, letting out and squeezing the trigger.

  It took a second before she saw a tuft of his hair flip up, blood spraying up in the air as he toppled forward, as if his legs had stopped functioning. He landed face first and slid forward, leaves exploding up into the air from the impact.

  Heidi moved to where Mel was on the ground, returning to his senses. Seeing her approach, he put a hand up and screamed at her.

  "Please! Don't, I'm sorry, we'll leave you—"

  Heidi place the gun against the side of his temple and pulled the trigger. She felt blood splash against her arm and cheek as he fell back, staring vacantly up into the sky as he hit the ground. Heidi strode to where the other was lying, clearly dead. For good measure and to be sure, she aimed and put another shot in the back of his head. The body didn't move from the impact.

  Letting the gun drop to her side, Heidi looked back and forth between the two bodies, ensuring that there was no longer any kind of threat before she turned and began the long walk back to the car.

  -15-

  Heidi drove back to the bunker, barely aware of the road or anyone she might have seen along the way. The dull sounds of the shots still rang in her head, her ears hot from the memory. She pressed the pain of it out through her foot, into the accelerator as she flexed her fingers on the wheel. Storm clouds rolled in from the west along with hints of thunder that matched her mood perfectly.

  The blood of those men was on her hands. She had to accept that, despite the fact that they clearly intended to do her harm. Two deaths directly caused by her.

  It seemed progressively less likely that she would ever encounter anyone decent out here, nothing left but abject violence. Why would she ever trust anyone when this was how her trust would likely be repaid?

  Maybe this was all she was destined for anymore. Running circles around a track, revolutions that would be repeated over and over until the day her body and spirit finally gave in and she was given over to eternity. Wasn't the entire planet simply living on borrowed time anymore?

  Pulling up near the entrance to the bunker, she stepped out and hurled the door shut. The sound of it slamming echoed around her in the open, expansive space. Mel's gun was still on the passenger seat, and for a moment she considered leaving it there. But she didn't want it sitting around, waiting for even the slim chance that someone could walk past and pick it up. God only knew what would be done with the thing and she didn't want to deal with any more emotional liability. Besides, this wasn't the kind of world anymore where it was wise to leave tools lying around.

  Also, the gun might provide one other option.

  She walked to the edge of the drop-off, looking at the rushing water of the river, the whitecaps of frost atop the surging current. There always seemed to be an upsurge of cold wind when she looked down, as if standing face-to-face with her own imminent future. If she had harbored any uncertainty as to whether or not the fall would kill her right away, the gun would certainly do the job. The answer to every problem she faced could be held within a shell casing, just fifty feet behind her. She could make it quick, a brief taste of metal on the back of her throat before the burn and blasting sound of her exit from this world. One second and it would all be over with no fears or obligations left behind to deal with.

  But then, why had she bothered to defend herself in the first place? Why hadn't she simply let those two douche-bags kill her like they had clearly planned? Did it hint at some deeper desire to live, to go on and survive? Was that spark still burning in there somewhere? Or had it merely been ego? The refusal to give up in the face of such colossal incompetence?

  Regardless, this was not who she was. She wasn't the one who simply gave up, or took the easy way out of a problem life had laid before her. Fundamentally, it would be a decision counter to everything she stood for. One pull of the trigger might seem simple now. She wouldn't have to fix anything once she departed from this world for the next. She knew, deep down that society would never be fixed anyway. It would never get any better. She craved a release from it all, a path to something other than this perpetual hopelessness.

  But her father didn't raise her to walk away. And she had made an agreement. She paid for her survival with the promise that morning in his home. She looked in his eyes and agreed to do what he asked for. His one, final wish of her.

  Her promise.

  So, she departed the real world, taking the gun and descending to her concealed shelter. It served to protect her from the outside as well as seal her within her own miserable discontent. It was like being buried alive, except you never
actually died.

  It was all life had left to offer.

  -Interlude-

  I feel like the walls are cracking.

  I know that isn't possible, it's reinforced steel and there's a layer of concrete around that. No way the outside pressure could make the sides crack. Still, that's how I feel. Just a little while ago, I went over and ran my hand along what looked like a hairline fracture. Turns out it was just some of the paint peeling loose. I know what it is and I still catch myself glancing up at it, as if it's going to get wider, like the earth out there is going to start seeping in to reclaim me.

  I'm alone down here. I wonder how many are left up there.

  Dad was in here last night.

  No, not in a dream. I don't mean that I had a few disoriented moments coming out of sleep and I was confused. I was sitting here on this bed and all of a sudden he was in the room with me, sitting over there by the table. He was watching over me, smiling like wherever he was, he didn't have a care to speak of.

  Was it supposed to make me feel better? Or worse? Was he trying to tell me that he's in a better place? Or was he trying to give me a hard time from the beyond because I still don't seem to be doing what he asked of me? I don't know. How am I supposed to know that? All I'm saying is that he was here with me.

  There was a low rumbling last night, like something going past overhead and the bunker shook a little bit. It was barely perceptible and I was probably making it up. What could have caused something like that? The main road is a ways away so I suppose it could have been a fleet of semis going past. Otherwise, I'm too deep and I'm too insulated to feel the impact of any sound up there. Maybe it was an earthquake. Now there's a lovely thought I can leave percolating for a while. What if I finally got down here to safety, only to be finished off by something as bland as geology?

  I'm so tired, I can't even work up the energy to sleep. That sounds like the most idiotic notion ever but I close my eyes and nothing happens. I lie on this cot, staring up at the ceiling. Nothing happens. There's plenty to do down here. Dad stocked this thing up with distractions. There's books. There's music and movies. Most of the time, this is great, far and away better than what most people have to keep themselves safe. But every once in a while, I don't think I'm hiding out in a train car underground. I feel like I'm in the inside of a giant monster, slowly being digested.

  I hate my life.

  I'm also relieved for my life. Relieved that the things I do down here can even be possible, that I'm not spending my day to day routines hacking it out in strange lands. I might be alone but at least this is familiar. Up there, it's a graveyard. There's nothing left.

  Something is scratching underneath the bed. Sounds like an animal of some kind but how could that be? Now it sounds like there's two or three of them. I've got the gun here. Because that's exactly how Dad taught you to deal with a dangerous situation. Take out the gun and just start shooting. God knows where those bullets would go in these close quarters. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'd get a round ricochet up through the mattress and end up in my ass. I could spend the next few weeks dying from infection.

  It's definitely a scratching, something moving around. I have no idea why I'm writing this out, as if I'm narrating a fucking teleplay or something. I need to stick my head down and see that it's nothing. The only way in here would be through the air vents and there's no way a rodent could get through all the grating and filters installed along the way.

  Of course there was nothing there. I'm an idiot and guess what, sports fans? Turns out, I might be going a little fucking crazy as well.

  Aces.

  This little rambling narrative of mine doesn't seem to be going anywhere but I don't know what else I should be doing. I mean, it isn't like I have to go to work in the morning or return phone calls or get those emails sent out. Not checking my Facebook for notifications or Twitter for garbage pickup. The world has been left behind which means that any obligations I had to it are also long gone.

  Adios.

  I need to do something to keep myself fresh and active. Otherwise, it isn't going to just be an occasional split in the paint and a set of feet scratching underneath my bed. It's going to be everywhere. The creatures out there that only really exist inside of my head will force their way in here and the only way to confront them will be straight through the fires of my broken sanity.

  I need the mundane.

  I need the pointless scribbling on paper like this to keep myself on the straight path. No one is ever going to read it. I just need something I can focus on instead of the hushed voices around me that just want to be louder. I need to keep my shit together and maybe if I focus on this notebook, I can do that. I'm not saying I'm happy about my life or where I am but maybe this can help me get through it.

  The world is shit.

  Nothing I can do about that. Not one God dammed thing I can do. And I'm really fine with it. I stay down here and I do the best I can to survive and stay that way. It's what my father would have wanted. It was the reason why he rushed home to give me a chance to get away. I have to honor that, even though what's left of society are the parts I hate the most. I do the best I can to stay positive but how can I honestly look into the future we have laid out before us and see anything but darkness? I do what I can here but even I know I'm just going through the routines because they are there. It's all I have left to hold on to, to keep me sane. How about that, world? Only one thing I have left that I can depend on. And that's myself. Maybe I'll keep writing in this. Maybe I'll stop. Who the fuck knows anymore?

  My tomb is collapsing.

  -16-

  Months followed months, only to be followed by more months. The seasons ticked past but regardless of the weather, Heidi ventured up from her hidden residence and walked as far as she could. She went through the motions of getting the exercise and fresh air that her body craved. Sadly, it was one of the few things left in her life that made her happy. And holding to her most sacred ritual, whenever she did risk a trip up top, she always carried the note for Lot in her pocket, now close to the texture of a cocktail napkin.

  Sometimes, she departed and returned to her home on the same day. Others, she would stay away for days at a time, the prospect of getting lost actually fueling her through the monotony of life alone, in the midst of a barren landscape. She walked until her legs stopped carrying her and would collapse wherever she was, half hoping that someone would come across her and put her out of her misery.

  She was no longer seeing her friend from the stadium as much in her dreams. But rather than being replaced by restful sleep, she was now visited by her father. He stood just at the periphery of her vision, leaning up against some invisible object as he observed her. He never came close, never attempted to communicate with her, save for the clear look of disappointed scorn with which he cast in her direction.

  Had he really believed that she would be able to carry out this absurd task he had laid out for her? Was she supposed to work miracles out here on a dead landscape?

  Anymore, she found herself crying when she woke in the mornings. It had gotten to the point where she had to take his picture down from the wall. In those moments of intense guilt, the scorn she saw in those eyes was too present, too real. Her father walked with her every day but rather than providing comfort, it was to chastise. The ability of the world out there to make her feel better was less and less.

  No more than she deserved.

  -17-

  When she first spotted him, it was from such a great distance, she thought her eyes had been fooled into seeing something that wasn't there. It was hard to make anything out, save for the slim silhouette making its way towards her. She had a few moments to decide how she wanted to handle it before the person spotted her as well. Shaking her head, marveling at her own indifference, she dropped her gaze and walked on. The danger level was minimal out here. As she drew closer, she could tell it was a man who appeared to be alone. There was nowhere around where a person could have be
en hiding for an ambush.

  Still, this was no longer a world where anyone could just be taken on their word. Caution was the means by which people were most likely to survive and she would have to treat this guy as the threat he potentially presented. She was passing an abandoned gas station and took the opportunity to step behind one of the rusting pumps. Kneeling down, she tried to obscure as much of her body as possible and waited for this stranger to come shambling along. From his zombie-like appearance, she suspected that giving him a good scare would be enough to keep the situation under control.

  Closing her eyes, she forced herself to slow down her breathing. The wind was all she could hear around her until she detected the sound of his feet scraping past. There was no sound to suggest that he might have seen her, just the shuffling approaching and then past her. Peeking out from behind the pump she saw his now departing form, and she marveled at how pathetically frail he looked and how he had managed yet to stay on his feet.

  Her heart pumped wildly in her chest as she moved forward, staying on the balls of her feet as she jogged up behind him. As if feeling some pre-cognitive warning, he began to turn his head, but before he could, she snaked a hand around his throat. He let out a shocked cry that she quickly cut off. She kicked out the back of his knee, causing him to topple over backward, arms spinning out as he did so. Stepping to the side, she shoved him along the path of his momentum, bringing him crashing to his back. He half sat up, a whoosh of air departing from him before falling back down. Leaping up onto his chest, Heidi crouched down and quickly placed the blade of her knife against his throat.

  As if his body was controlled by a light switch, he immediately went limp and quiet, staring out at her from an expression that conveyed his terror at how quickly his situation had changed. She reached up with her free hand and placed a finger to her lips.