Dawnland (Book 2): Hella Kills Read online

  “What do we do with these?” Stan asked, coming to the table and grabbing a sack.

  “You tie them to the pillars and swing them over the edge. Make sure you open them first.” Sivan proceeded to open a sack, which contained oats, and tied it around the stone pillar on the outward wall of the patio. When the horses saw they were finally being fed, they neighed and whinnied in delight. The woman gestured to the remaining bags. “Let’s hurry. They are very hungry today.”

  Stan and I helped the woman feed the horses. The golf course, dotted with vacant golf carts, clubs strewn on the growing lawn, and the occasional corpse lying face down in the mud, had become the horses’ new home. It used to be that people paid a premium to live here, pesticides covered these lawns to keep the wildlife out. Now, the beasts who were tamed to be ridden by their affluent owners were free to roam around as they pleased.

  Zeke stood back and watched. His face was stern as his gaze shifted from the golf course, to the closed doors of the club house and all around. I could tell he was angry at himself for being surprised by the woman, and wasn’t going to let that happen again. I wanted to tell him everyone makes mistakes, to reach through his tough exterior, but he would only take those words as an insult.

  “I mean you no harm,” the woman addressed Zeke without taking her eyes from her horses. They were nibbling the oats and nuzzling the woman’s hands. “If you keep pointing a gun at me, I will have to ask you to leave.” She went over to say good morning to the next horse, who whinnied in response.

  “Come on, Zeke,” Stan said. “You grew up around horses. Help us out.”

  Zeke took a feedbag from Stan and sauntered over to the edge of the patio. I wondered how Stan knew about Zeke’s growing up. I wondered what other information they shared when I wasn’t around.

  Stan knew much about the old me, the one who was obsessed with doing a good job—a perfectionist who was never perfect, who insisted on planning and organizing everything, so much that she couldn’t take a step forward without a rehearsal. That was the old me, and I cringed when I realized I didn’t want Zeke to know anything about the old me. Why did I care so much about how he felt about me?

  I put a feed bag over the edge and a chestnut brown horse approached. He dug in the bag and then looked up to me with soft and loving eyes. His expression tugged at my heart, this horse wasn’t angry or scared or sad. He was happy and affectionate.

  “He wants you to say good morning,” the woman said.

  I smiled. “May I?”

  “Certainly,” the woman said. “His name is Drifter because he likes to drift around from horse to horse.” She pointed to the rest of the horses while she named them. “And that’s Loner because he’s always alone, except when Drifter tries to make friends, and Midnight goes to bed very late, and Trouble and Tramp are the best of friends—but they are both rather unruly.”

  “How many are here?” I asked.

  “Oh a little over a dozen.” The woman tussled Midnight’s mane, and he shook his head in reaction. “They bring more to me every few weeks. I don’t know how they find each other, but they do.”

  “I’d do anything to go for a ride,” Zeke said. He came up to Midnight and the horse bowed to him and whinnied and then started prancing around.

  “That’s an excellent idea,” the woman said. “Midnight has taken to you—he’s a stallion and can be a bit feisty. I try to ride the tame ones when I can, but I’m afraid several of them are going more feral every day. You need to ride horses often to keep them in touch with their human side. The stables are on the other side of the pond, they have the most magnificent equipment here. I’d love it if you all helped.”

  “Can we try riding later?” I asked, extremely aware of the fact that I couldn’t ride and that I had never been around a horse. “We have to get Huck some medicine.”

  “Oh dear, is someone sick?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, my friend,” I said. “He has an infected wound.”

  “I can surely try to help out,” the woman said.

  “Are you a doctor?” I asked.

  “The next best thing,” the woman said. “I’m a vet.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Sivan agreed to come back to the mansion we were sharing. I felt strange inviting her back to a house that wasn’t mine, stranger still when Sivan admitted to knowing the family who lived there. Before we left, she took me to the stables so that she could grab her medical bag. The stables were warm and inviting and smelled of sweet hay mixed with the musty smell of horse. It somehow reminded me of Zeke, even though I shared no memories of Zeke and horses, it just seemed like a place where he would be.

  Sivan walked me into the first stall, which was setup as a store room. There were shelves of all kinds of medical supplies, some behind small glass-encased boxes that she must have imported from somewhere else. She took a large black bag off the shelf. When she opened it to add extra bandages, I saw that it contained long and short needled syringes, thermometers, a stethoscope, medications and sharp looking instruments that I hoped she didn’t have to use on Huck.

  “These are my children here,” she said as she gathered her supplies. “I never had any of my own.” She regarded me with her light brown eyes, they were warm and inviting. “I believe it’s what saved me from all of this madness, being alone with my horses. What saved you?”

  “My virus,” I said simply. I was over hiding it and I didn’t want Sivan to think that being with us would draw the zeroes to her.

  “Oh, dear, are you sick too, my child?” She moved toward me with an unexpected grace and quickness and placed a hand on my forehead. Her kindness reflected again in her eyes.

  “No, not at all,” I said. I then proceeded to tell her about my virus, with the exception of the fact that my bite can turn people into zeroes. She believed me, especially since she had found some dead zeroes last night, several in the middle of the field.

  “I knew at once they had been killed by a disease, a bacteria or a virus,” Sivan said of the dead. She examined my eyes, my face, my arms, with a curiosity that only someone in medicine would have.

  Zeke strode into the stables, his motions were casual but deliberate and calculated and angry. “What’s taking you so long?” he asked.

  I almost answered him but he gazed at me with such an intensity that it made me catch my breath. I looked away and patted the horse next to me to cover up my blushing face.

  “Mating season is beginning,” Sivan said. I gulped, hoping she was talking about the horse. Sivan pushed my hair away from my face, similarly to the way she brushed the mane from a horse’s forehead. “You’ll have to let me take a closer look at you after I’m done with your friend.”

  “Why?” Zeke asked. He turned toward me. “You’re not sick.” I cocked my head back to look him in the eyes. He was so tall that I had to strain my neck at such close range. He evaded my connection, looking instead to Sivan.

  “I told her,” I said.

  Zeke snapped his head around, this time unable to avoid my eyes, and opened his mouth for a moment before he spoke. “You told her?” he asked. There wasn’t anger in his voice, more like astonishment. “You don’t have to tell the whole world, you know.” He laughed, it was rich and emphatic and surprised me by how warm it made me feel. I wanted to laugh along with him, to free myself of all my secrets, but I wouldn’t indulge.

  “Why are you laughing?” I asked.

  I turned around and stroked the horse to distract myself from Zeke’s gaze. His confidence made me increasingly more uncomfortable. “Anyway, we have to get to Huck,” I said, emphasizing Huck’s name to imply that he had forgotten about his best friend. But this backfired too, because now I felt guilty—for no reason at all because I didn’t have any feelings for Zeke. I remembered what Zeke said about me, kid sister. That’s what I was to him, nothing more—and that’s what he was to me, an older brother.

  Zeke, Sivan and I headed out of the stables, back over to Stan who was watchi
ng the horses feed on the oats.

  “Bet you wished you took those riding lessons now,” Stan said to me.

  “Does everyone else know how to ride?” I asked, more grumbled to myself—not wanting an answer.

  “Let’s see,” Zeke said. “Huck knows. We’ve been riding on multiple occasions—great entertainment on a cool mountain afternoon. Zora and Boa, I’ve heard them talk about riding. Broder—I’m sure he knows how to ride. Ana, my guess is she does too.”

  I knew Zeke was teasing me by the tone in his voice, and I should have taken his lightheartedness as a sign of friendship—brother to sister—but he made me mad. Why did I have to be the one that couldn’t do anything except kill zombies with my freaky virus? I had never ridden a horse before, or a motorcycle, or shot a gun, or—heck there were a lot of things I had never done before the apocalypse and countless more that I would be forced to try.

  I didn’t mind trying new things, I loved it. At least learning to ride a horse didn’t involve killing anyone. I hoped I’d be able to fit it in before we left for Durham. I wanted to feel the wind in my hair, like I did when I rode on the back of Huck’s bike.

  “I’ll teach you,” Zeke said. A smile crept on my face, but I didn’t say anything and kept walking. “That’s what you want, right?” Zeke asked.

  “Sweetheart, take the offer,” Sivan said. Her comfortable style, treating us like she knew us forever, felt natural and I accepted her friendship immediately. “Horses might be the only form of transportation left for us in the future and with a virus like yours, you have an obligation to us and to everyone.”

  I didn’t want to take riding lessons from Zeke, no matter how thrilling it sounded. To be alone with him on a horse—my commitment was to Huck, to make sure Huck recovered. Huck was my love, that’s what we said when we first met—love at first sight.

  “I’ll wait until Huck gets better. He can teach me.”

  “You can help me in the stables until you are ready to ride,” Sivan said. “And until your friend gets better. What’s his name?”

  “Huck,” I said.

  “Huck and Hella,” Sivan said, mulling over the sound of our names.

  “Catchy, huh?” I asked, feeling stupid as the words roll out of my mouth. Catchy like a show tune. We were almost to the house. “I’m going to run ahead,” I said. I didn’t want any more conversations about mating or spring or Hella or Huck, and especially not about Zeke.

  I ran inside the mansion and to Huck’s room to tell him all about the good news, that we had found him a doctor and medicine. He rested on the bed propped up by pillows, his face still flush with fever. His breakfast sat on the nightstand next to the bed and remained almost untouched.

  “You’re going to save me, huh Hella?” Huck asked when I was done telling him about the adventure. At the same time Sivan entered the room.

  “Not me, her.” I stood up and let Sivan take the chair next to Huck’s bed. Ana and the others must have seen us arrive, because they, too, gathered in the guest bedroom.

  “Everyone out, please,” Sivan said. “I need to be alone with the patient.”

  Ana stepped forward and said something in Spanish. Sivan replied to her in Spanish and to my dismay let her stay in the room.

  The rest of us gathered in the kitchen where Stan and Zeke helped me tell the story of Sivan and how we met her. Sivan was taking an extra-long time in Huck’s room so Lily convinced me to go exploring with her.

  “Don’t bring back any wallets,” Zora teased as Lily and I left. Zora was going to spend the rest of the day with her sister, who had picked up a bit of the stomach flu. Zeke and Stan, with Broder, were going to see if they could find any workable vehicles and maybe some more edible dinner. When Zeke mentioned squirrel, I hoped he was joking.

  “Where’s Trevan?” I asked as Lily and I crossed the street to the next house on the block.

  Lily shook her head. “He’s napping.” She turned to me but kept walking. She looked glamourous in her black yoga pants and white tee shirt, the pants matching her hair color. “I’m worried about him, Hella. He’s been saying all sorts of things about the Durham Association, that’s what they call themselves.”

  “I don’t blame him for being angry at them,” I say.

  “That’s just it,” Lily cuts me off. “He’s not angry. He keeps bragging about how great they thought he was and then he starts to whine about how no one here appreciates him. I can’t get him to stop drinking either. You know how he was at the beginning?”

  “I remember him sitting in that car outside your window blaring music and wasting the battery, banging on the steering wheel, wasting the gas by keeping the engine running.” I didn’t want to tell Lily how mixed up I thought Trevan was back then and how nervous I was to have the old Trevan return. He would be dangerous anywhere we took him, especially if we were to get Saudah. Who knows what he would do, turn us all in? Trevan and Lily would have to stay behind when we leave for Durham.

  Lily and I explored several of the houses, collecting useful items such as several gas fireplace lighters, a couple of large water bottles, a first aid kit and some extra heavy duty gloves for the more gruesome jobs. Lily found some super expensive looking thermal binoculars, which she grabbed along with a Leatherman for Trevan.

  I almost lost it with joy when I found a twelve inch steel knife sharpener like the one I had used to kill my neighbor, Mark. It was the perfect tool for close encounters of the zero kind. With my virus, I didn’t need to fight the undead too often, but if I did I would be able to sink the twelve inch steel point into their skull. I slid the tool in my holster next to my pink gun.

  Lily and I walked into a cul-de-sac with three out of the four houses for sale. It used to be that families had to worry about the slacking real estate market, now these families were probably gone, on the run for their lives or eaten or worse. A moving truck was parked in front of one, a do-it-yourself kind and I wondered why someone who lived in a mini-mansion would need to move on their own.

  “You think there’s anything worthwhile here?” Lily asked.

  “Maybe that truck will be useful,” I said.

  We approached the truck, which was open in the back, and looked in. A few moving boxes were stacked on one side and in the rear. A couch and some chairs were stacked on the other side, but the rest of the truck was empty.

  “You want to unpack, don’t you?” Lily asked.

  “Let’s do a check before we get carried away,” I said. “And then we can unpack.”

  We moved to the middle of the cul-de-sac with our backs together, a pose that had become natural. Our focus was on guarding each other first and then investigating the environment second. A quick scan around the area told us that there were no living souls around. Lily and I called out as we slowly moved in a circle, together as one, our backs still connected by pressure.

  “No one is answering,” I said. “No one is here or they don’t want to be found. Let’s poke our head inside the truck.”

  We returned to the truck, in the same cautious configuration. I glanced inside and knocked on the outside. For extra precaution, I hopped up and checked out the length of the truck before I felt comfortable inside. Dirt and debris had been washed in by countless rainstorms and windstorms, making me think it was open for a while.

  “It’s safe, come on up,” I said, reaching for Lily. She took my hand and I pulled her up. “What would you pack first?” I asked as I leaned against the couch.

  “Before or after apocalypse?” Lily asked.

  “That’s a good question,” I said. “When do you think they started packing? I wouldn’t move a couch after.”

  Lily opened a box. “Before, definitely before.” She held up silk sheets. “Sheets and curtains.”

  I opened another box and found some hand pruners, a trowel, clay pots, a mallet, plyers, wrenches, screwdrivers. “Gold mine,” I said as I held up a particularly vicious looking combo hammer-axe. “They are either the worst packers, o
r they did this in a hurry. I am going to go with after the apocalypse.”

  Suddenly we heard a high-pitched sound of a lawnmower, but in the sky. Both of us froze and then quickly made our way to the front of the truck to peer outside, grasping for our guns in the process. Thinking I was going to see a helicopter searching over us, I was surprised to see a small plane. It was flying high in the sky, originating from the west and flying east.

  “You think they saw us?” Lily asked.

  “Doubt it,” I said.

  “You think that’s good or bad?” Lily asked.

  “Don’t know,” I said. “It depends if they are good or bad.”

  “Let’s go back and tell the others.” Lily jumped out of the truck. I ran back and grabbed the hammer-axe and put it with my steel knife sharpener and then jumped down with Lily.

  “You collecting tools now?” Lily asked.

  “Yea,” I said. “What of it? At least they’re useful.” We started to jog back to the house, making sure to stick close to the buildings in case the plane returned. My hammer-axe hit my thigh with every step and with every other step it hit my knife sharpener. I would have to find a more practical way of carrying my new tools.

  On our way home, we ran into Sivan and Broder, who were walking back to the stables. Before we reached them, it seemed like they were engaged in a conversation, but I knew that was impossible because Broder didn’t speak. When we caught up to them Broder nodded and then walked ahead of us, keeping his eye on the sky.

  “How’s Huck?” I asked.

  At the same time, Lily asked “Did you see that plane?”

  Sivan smiled and touched my face. “Huck’s fine. He’s quite fond of you, you know?”

  I blushed, a guilty feeling tugging at my heart, one that I didn’t understand. “Great,” I mumbled, and then added with sincerity, “I’m fond of him too.”