Chapter 4
A cliff with at least a four-story drop lay only a few short feet from the tip of his boot. Beyond that was a black hole of destruction as far as the eye could see—torn-down buildings, twisted metal, charred wood, overturned cars, and broken-up pavement.
The smell of burning wood and rot assaulted his nose even from this distance.
No life grew here, not even weeds. Mud covered the ground. Trees were broken off at the trunks, revealing only sharpened wood points.
As they all stood on the edge of the cliff taking everything in, a rogue tarp flapped in the wind, and a scream rang out in the distance, followed by a gunshot. In the distance, a car alarm sounded, glass shattered, and a dog barked.
Are the Others out there?Krieger wondered.
He still held her shoulder but with less tension in his grip. “What caused this?”
“Mother Nature and humans.” She paused, then said, “It happened slowly. The deterioration of the world we knew. When the scientists warned of global warming’s negative effects on climate, no one listened. Nothing was done to change our ways, even when the storms began to worsen all over this planet. Not when our winters lasted eight months out of the year, or even when the tsunamis took out the coastal cities and the fires wiped out the west. My village, we banded together. We were lucky for the most part, for a long time.”
She sighed. “We hoped the world would return to normal. Until it all finally caught up to us here.” She tilted her head to the ground. “It was as if Mother Nature was on a crusade to beat humanity to a pulp.” She laughed. “Payback, maybe, for centuries of polluting and mistreating the earth. I was nine years old the night the ground began to shake. The earth opened up and tried to tear down the walls around me. My parents half carried me, half dragged me kicking and screaming to the closet. We only emerged when the rumbling stopped. Then we walked out into the street.”
She stared at the devastation with cold features. Krieger saw the quiver at the corner of her lip, the glassiness in her eyes, and heard the hoarseness in her voice. Eva swallowed hard. “We saw them then.”
“Them?”
She nodded. “The tornadoes. The sky fell upon us with a vengeance, ripping up the land and everything on it. My father hurried us back into the house. It sounded like an airplane had landed just outside our door. Everything fell around us. Hours later, we dug out with our bare hands.”
Krieger looked at the rest of the crew, who all shared the same look as Eva. Except Derek—he busied himself with his pack, not giving the land before him any of his attention.
Eva tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she said, “We thought it was over.”
Luke grunted. “We all thought it was over.”
She shook her head before looking to the ground. “The rains came soon after. Flooding the rivers and valley. We were able to make it out before the rising water blocked any means of escape. There was nothing left here for us. It was as if a dark cloud hung over the valley and settled in for the long haul. We came to the hills, full of trees and life, seemingly unaffected by the floods and tornadoes. Inclined as it was, the water couldn’t reach us... we were lucky. Some were not.” She took a deep breath. “We met other survivors. One had a radio, could decipher Morse code—”
He took a long drag on the air. “What?”
“Natural disaster, stop, across the world, stop, seek shelter, stop, survive, stop.”
She turned to him. “Krieger, that’s why we live in trees, in this area, our home. We try to stay out of reach of man and Mother Nature. Some people looked for help. Others, well, they started destroying whatever was left standing, in the name of survival. Fear controlled their actions, hope inspired ours.”
“What about the earthquakes and tornadoes?”
“The rock is dense beneath Everwood. We don’t feel the full impact of the earthquakes often. Sometimes we do, and we repair the damage as it comes. As for the tornadoes... We’ve been lucky.” Eva moved away from the edge. “Let’s keep moving.”
Krieger kept his head tilted toward the devastated village. “Do storms still pass through here?”
Over her shoulder, she said, “Yup. Like I said, dark cloud... long haul.”
Okay, then.
They sped up their descent into the destruction. It was a steep drop from the knoll. They had to scramble over debris, being mindful of their footing, dodging broken pieces of cars, houses, and street lamps. The garbage was overwhelming, covering the ground and squishing under their feet.
From the cliff, the area had looked demolished, but from the street, it looked like a wasteland. Nothing remained in the sea of cars and broken-up concrete, collapsed buildings, and downed power lines.
Eva charged forward to a slanted school bus. The tires were flat, and the whole front end sat wedged between heaving blacktop and debris. Soot and black spray paint marred the side of the yellow metal. And if he thought the crew was on edge before, now they were borderline paranoid in the valley. Here, they didn’t have the brush and trees as cover, they were exposed.
They stepped around everything with quick, crafted movements, their hands readied on the triggers, their eyes peeled, waiting for the unexpected. Are the Others out here? Watching us this very minute?
His feet moved through the muck, sticking in the dense thickness as he made his way over to the vehicle. Darkness lay on the horizon, and so did dinner, he realized when a low growl sounded from his gut, sending vibrations up his chest.
Eva circled back around, motioning for the crew to come to her. “We’ll camp here tonight. Luke, start a fire. Sarah, get to cooking. Derek, run a quick perimeter check with John. I’ll inspect the bus and ready it for the night. Krieger, you’ll assist me.”
Shouts of approval and grunts of exhaustion sounded as they each set off to their directed duties.
Eva started to work on getting the bus door open, and Krieger stepped over some well-picked carcasses to help her; thankfully the bones didn’t look human. After a few heaves from her and a jerk from him, the door popped open.
The smell of mold and mildew overwhelmed his olfactory senses before he even saw the once leather seats that were covered in dry mud. His shoes scraped over piles of gritty sand and rocks, and he wondered if this bus had been flooded by the water she spoke of.
He shifted his weight. The bus held steady. The frame sat at an angle but would hold them for the night.
Eva went farther into the bus with her hand primed on the butt of her gun. “Clear,” she announced before turning to him. “Hurry.”
He took a step toward her. “What do you need me to do?”
With wide eyes, she said, “Take off your shirt.”
“What?”
She rushed over to him. “Just hold still, I need to inspect your wound.” Eva shoved his hands out of the way and lifted his layers of shirts.
“This isn’t necessary, but if it makes you feel better.”
She prodded his abdomen with cold hands a few times before letting his shirt fall away. The contact caused his skin to break out in gooseflesh, but not from the cold.
“Feel better?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “I’m just following up on my patient.”
He took hold of her wrist. “Then why do we have to hurry?”
She yanked her hand away. “I didn’t want them to think you’re sick or injured. People like that can be a liability on these types of missions.”
He set his bag down on one of the seats. “Why did you agree to let me come, then?”
She smirked. “Would you have stayed behind?”
Deflection. “No. I would have followed you.”
“Why do you care about Everwood so much, you’ve barely—”
He closed the space between them and leaned forward. “No. You misunderstand me. I would have followed you. I owe you, after all, for saving my life.”
Her cheeks flushed under his gaze, before she said, “Your wound looks fine, and you don’t seem to be burning with fever...”
To his frustration, footsteps sounded just outside the door, and Eva moved away from him, dropped her bag of gear, and looked out the front. Luke bounded up the stairs.
She motioned for him to come in. “What news do you have for me?”
He hooked his hand behind his back. “The fire is started and the food is cooking. Derek and John have not returned yet from their scout.”
She removed the pelt from her pack and straightened. “Not to worry, Luke. You know Derek likes to be efficient. We’ll be out in a minute. Make sure Sarah doesn’t burn our food, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Luke said as he made his way off the bus.
After readjusting her gun in her pants, she grabbed his bag from the seat and started investigating. “Tucker stocked you good.”
“Yes, in fact—”
“Here.” She handed him a sheathed knife and the pistol that had been stuffed into the bag. “Keep this close.”
He nodded and accepted the items, placing the knife in his boot and the pistol in the band of his pants. Once he had them situated, he arranged his shirt around the metal, then met her eyes.
“It’s most dangerous at night. The Others smell the food, hear our movements... We need to be ready. They will kill us for the provision we carry, it’s important we arm and protect ourselves.”
“I understand.”
When she went to go past him, he stilled her with a hand on her arm. “Thanks, for keeping me informed and... for checking my wound. You didn’t have to—”
Her hand covered his. “Just alert me if you’re not feeling well. I meant what I said about the sick and injured being a liability.” She waited for him to nod, then got off the bus.
The last thing he wanted was to be a liability to her, but he wouldn’t let that happen.
He zipped his bag closed, then descended the steps off the bus. His feet sank into the mud as he took in his surroundings.
Darkness had fallen on them, and the light of the fire cast eerie shadows on the debris. The area they’d parked in contained only a few stacked tires, broken sheets of metal, and a shattered tree trunk. Perpendicular to them was a row of abandoned buildings; some had no roofs or side walls, but they all were missing the glass in the windows.
Derek and John walked into the light just as wooden bowls were being passed around. Eva handed him a steaming bowl of brown slop that resembled the muck under his feet.
“It’s black beans and water. Not very tasty, but it will keep you full,” Sarah said as she stirred the food over the open fire.
Eva placed a heaping spoon into her mouth and motioned for him to do the same. His mouth salivated at the hearty smell. Shit, he was so hungry anything would taste good at this point. He scooped up the textured water and shoved it in his mouth.
Well, at least it was a warm meal. After he ate a few spoonfuls, he said, “It doesn’t taste as bad as it looks,” which was more of a dig at how it looked than anything else.
Sarah shrugged, then stoked the fire.
When they finished their bowls, they rinsed them with water and returned them to the bag. The fire still crackled but was well on its way to becoming hot coals. At least the smoke from the flames seemed to drown out the smell of the moldy bus that was soon to be their bed.
“Everyone, get some sleep. I’ll take first watch,” Eva said, then retrieved her pack from the bus and planted it on a stack of tires.
As she settled, Derek approached her and said, “Wake me in a couple hours, I’ll take second watch.”
Without looking at him, she nodded, and Derek turned and threw his shoulder into Krieger’s as he moved past him, again, before entering the bus with the other members of the crew.
He stayed planted where he was, unable to will his feet to move from where he stood. He couldn’t believe they were just going to leave this young woman to protect them from what lurked and bumped in the night.
Not even Mother Earth could make him get on that bus. In a short stride, he was at her side, making a nest out of a pair of tires. He could feel her eyes on him, but he refused to look at her because he knew she would want to argue over him staying.
When she opened her mouth, he held up his hand. “Nothing you say will make me leave this position.”
Her head tilted to the side as she threw something his way. “I was gonna say ‘here, take this’ before you so rudely interrupted me.”
A soft blanket landed in his arms, a sign she was accepting his company. Did she want him close by?
He searched her face. “Thanks.”
She quickly averted her eyes, yanking her bag onto her lap. Eva dug through the contents and removed a plastic tarp, then shook it open. He didn’t need to ask what it was for—within seconds, it started raining. He felt the first drop on his forehead, then his hands. More water fell as she wrapped the tarp behind her back and over her head and sat on her tire.
The hot coals hissed as the water doused the small flames.
She extended her arms out and asked, “Are you coming or what?”
He sat next to her under the tarp and took hold of the edge just as the light rain turned torrential. With his other hand, he placed part of the blanket she’d handed him over her lap. The plastic thudded in protest as visibility became almost impossible.
“They won’t attack now. Can’t see shit,” Eva said over the thick, pounding droplets.
He nodded and turned his attention to her. She watched the rain with a serenity he didn’t understand. “Do you like the rain?”
She cast him a glance, gauging him as if deciding whether to profess some secret, then looked back out at the pouring rain. “My mom did. She said the rain left the earth with a clean slate.”
Her mother? “She lives at Everwood with you?”
“She’s dead.”
He shifted his weight on his rubber seat. “Shit, I’m sorry. How did she die?”
Her eyes scanned the darkness, trying to see through the rainy haze that covered the land. “My mother, Laura, was a nurse, as good as any doctor. She was born and raised in Germany. My father was in the military and had been stationed in Mannheim. They met and married there before returning to America. She cared for the people of Everwood—the people injured after the apocalypse. She even cared for them on the field of battle.”
She paused briefly before looking at him and continuing. “I was with her that day, seven years ago. Crouched in the grass, treating a man who had been stabbed in the gut, as the fighting raged on in the distance between us and Stone Haven. She’d wanted me to learn to heal, not fight with a gun. She didn’t hear it—I didn’t hear it. The shot that rang out, the bullet that coursed through the air... before striking her in the chest, killing her instantly.”
She took a deep breath, her nails digging into the rubber of the tire and her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “The man we’d been treating... he lived.”
He placed his hand over hers. “It wasn’t your fault, Angel.”
She turned her face away from him, in the direction of the abandoned building. He wasn’t sure if she could see anything through the heavy rainfall, but he was positive he heard her sniffle.
She pulled her hand out from under his and moved a stray hair from her face before glancing up at him. The pain and tension he’d just seen in her face were gone, hidden far beneath the surface.
In the span of only a few seconds, she’d built a wall, blocking out any comfort he might have given.
“My father took me under his wing, trained me to fight—harder than he had anyone else before—how to survive and lead the people around me. Never again will I be weak or defenseless.”
He believed her.
Her tone had changed. A harsher, rougher quality now replaced the soft, gentle tenor her voice once had. An angel from the front and a vixen from the back.
Yet even after all he’d seen and heard, he still didn’t understand. “Why do you stay? There might be rescue teams assembled, looking for—”
Her brow furrowed. “It’s been over ten years. No rescue team has ever ventured this way, and I’ve never heard of such a thing. All that’s out there now is more settlements, built on the last remaining viable land. We live to survive now, that’s all there is.”
He nodded. “Like Stone Haven—the Becks.”
She flinched. “No. They’re not like us. The Becks are no better than the Others. We nearly starved our first winter on the hills from their overuse of our lands. Killing females before they’ve had their offspring and leaving whole carcasses.”
He leaned back against the tires. “Maybe they just hunt differently—”
She shifted uncomfortably and shook her head. “There’s only one way to hunt, to make the last remaining gifts given to us by the land last. We use every last bit of an animal, and we respect the cycle of life. Nothing goes to waste. If they continue down this path, the hills and mountains will look like this area in no time. There is not much fruitful property left. If we let them destroy what is remaining, then how will we feed our people?” She looked to the ground. “Everwood and all the creatures in it are sacred. We need to preserve and grow what little we have. Our home is the only life raft we have. How would we survive without it? Where would we go?”
“True. So, the Becks started the war?”
She looked to him now as she recalled the past. “My father met with Mr. Beck that first spring after the apocalypse. He tried to tell him they couldn’t use the lands in such a way... One thing led to another—a shot was fired and all hell broke loose. I was high in the trees, trying to watch from above. It was a miracle my father made it out alive, but this I know for a fact, my father did not fire the first shot.”
“I see.” He did see—that each side fought for the survival of their people, and each side was willing to die to see it happen.
Had he known about the feud when he decided to travel to Everwood? Had he wanted to join the fight?
The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle and then to a fine mist.
He thought over what she said and asked, “But why does your father send you on these missions? You’re all so young.”
She laughed. “Because he knows I’m capable, that we’re capable. Besides, most of us grew up in this area. We know the land. We’ve been training for these types of missions for years. The older soldiers, they stay behind and protect Everwood. How easy would it be for another settlement to take it from us without a defense in place? The men that stay to protect Everwood, they don’t know the land like we do. They were already adults when Mother Earth turned the world upside down, and a lot of them traveled to Everwood as survivors. They are not from here. Us”—she looked back at the bus, to the crew inside—”we grew up in the apocalypse, we adapted.”
She stood and shook the tarp of water, then folded the plastic into a neat square. “We better get some rest, we have another long day tomorrow.” She walked over to the bus, and he wondered if it was Derek’s watch already.
He followed her to the vehicle, where she woke Derek. After he made a quick exit, she positioned herself in his leather seat. Luke lay flat on a bench, his legs and feet hanging in the aisle. John sat upright with his eyes closed, wrapped in a blanket, and Sarah would have been invisible, covered with a blanket from head to toe, if she wasn’t snoring like a freight train.
It was a good thing he still held the blanket she’d given him; the temperature had dropped, and his lids were heavy. He covered her with it and then took a seat across from her.
After she adjusted the blanket on her lap, she leaned her head against the window glass and closed her eyes. He did the same, not wanting to be a liability to her in the morning. He needed his rest, but so did she.
She’d been through so much, but... had he?
He couldn’t remember his past, his name, where he was the day the earth went haywire, or even if he had a family. Doubtful.
Not if he joined the caravan of people coming this way. Who were the other men he traveled with that died? What he would give to regain his memory. To share with her pieces of himself... He had nothing to offer her but his compassion and loyalty.
And after what she’d done for him, saved his very life, she deserved it and more. Angel.
He could feel his mind drifting... the voice of an angel singing a familiar tune...
Hours later, Krieger felt a pressure on his leg. His eyes expanded to take in the pack that now rested on his thighs and Luke’s large frame.
“It’s time to move out,” Luke said.
The sun was peeking through the window, but no birds chirped to welcome the day. The air in the bus was frigid; his breath crystalized as he exhaled, and Jack Frost had painted almost every window while they slept.
Sitting up, he noticed Eva was nowhere to be seen. He grabbed his bag and made his way off the bus.
When he got to the fire, everyone had mugs in hand.
“Here.” Luke handed him a piping hot cup of clear water. “It will warm you.”
Wrapping his hands around the cup and letting it warm him, he took a generous gulp. The heat spread through his gut and expanded into his limbs.
Luke turned once more and handed him a handful of smoked meats. “Eat up, we don’t have much time.”
Eva stood opposite him. She was dressed the same, but her hair was different, her warm-colored locks combed back into a messy bun. She talked with Sarah, but Krieger still caught her assessing him from the corner of her eye.
He nodded to her to indicate that he was fine. No pain echoed from his wound, only his strained neck. Sleeping against a glass window—bad idea.
Krieger bit into the meat as he looked around them. A light fog had settled in, shadowing certain areas of the land, and gray clouds hung low over the broken structures, warning of a coming storm.
He turned to Luke. “Where to now?”
Luke slung his pack over his shoulder. “Don’t know. She’ll tell us—”
Before Luke could finish his sentence, a gun cocked behind him. He reached for his weapon, and a strange voice rang out, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
The Others?
Krieger’s hand moved with speed. He’d grabbed his pistol from his pants and had it trained on the stranger in no time. Worried, his eyes bounced between the stranger with the shot gun and Eva, but she held her gun with steady hands and an unwavering gaze on the newcomer.
The man had long black hair, brown eyes, and a severe problem with hygiene, if the heavy scent of garbage and body odor radiating from his direction was anything to go by.
His dark, dirty jacket moved around him as he took a step toward Luke, pressing the barrel of the gun into his side, just under his pack. “Who’s your leader? Is it the tall one?” The man’s chin tilted up toward him. “Or the dark one?” He indicated Derek.
Silence fell over the group as he used Luke as a shield.
Long Hair, impatient for an answer, shoved the barrel into Luke’s ribs, causing him to wince in pain.
Krieger’s finger hovered just above the trigger, noticing it felt natural to train a gun on a threat. Had he done this before?
Relief filled his chest as he thought maybe he knew what he was doing—if he just let instinct take over. Just because his mind couldn’t remember the steps didn’t mean his body had forgotten.
“Let him go, I’m their leader,” Eva said as she stepped forward, gun still in hand.
Krieger’s newfound relief slammed into his rib cage and crashed into his gut. She did not just address herself as their leader. How was he supposed to protect her if she deliberately sought out danger?
Long Hair shoved Luke farther into the group yet still kept him close. “No joke?”
Eva sighed. “What. Do you. Want?”
Derek’s finger looked twitchy on the trigger as Eva took a step toward the man. Sarah held her ground, gun positioned on the stranger as John’s eyes watched the fog around them, dagger in hand.
The man smiled. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Donald, and you are?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Your worst mistake.”
Donald laughed, filling the silence. “Original. Well, you see, I’ll be needing your supplies, and...” He looked Eva up and down. “You, if you don’t mind.”
She took another step in his direction. “I do mind.”
A knot had formed in Krieger’s stomach as unease washed over him. Someone was going to die. There was just no way around it.
Their enemy grinned and called out, “Boys!”
His men walked through the white haze, weapons positioned ready to fire. Over a dozen moved in on their group with hawk eyes trained on them. If they shot their weapons, they would not miss.
Eva showed no signs of concern. “A match, then.”
Donald’s face scrunched up, revealing deep wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. “With you?”
His men sniggered as Krieger shifted his weight. What did she mean by match?
Donald addressed his men. “Seems a waste of some pretty bounty, but what do you think, boys?”
When eager hoots and howls sounded, Krieger let out a low growl. How dare they speak to Eva that way?
Donald lowered his gun. “Why not, we’ve been short on entertainment in these parts as of late. Agreed.”
Eva dropped the point of her gun. “You know the rules?”
He nodded. “Let’s shake on it, but your people lower their guns first.”
“Your men as well,” Eva demanded.
Everyone lowered their weapons, including Derek. What was the matter with them? Why were they so calm? What the hell was happening?
He was not lowering his weapon.
Eva moved to his side and placed her hand over the barrel of the gun, lowering it without looking at him. Then she moved over to Donald and shook his filthy hand.
Donald turned back to his men and removed his jacket.
The men gathered around as Eva returned to them, her jacket already in hand, her long-sleeved green shirt visible now.
Krieger took a step in her direction. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Without looking at him or responding, she shook her arms and rolled her head side to side.
His temples began to throb. “Will someone please tell me what the hell is happening right now?”
Luke placed a hand on his shoulders. “A fight to the death.”