Desolation: Chapters 17 & 18
Dominion of the Damned: Book One
In a world where zombies roam and vampires rule, how far will Hannah Jordan go to survive?
Desolation is the first book in my post-apocalyptic horror trilogy, Dominion of the Damned.
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Chapter Seventeen
Paula had packed them a picnic. When they reached the historic section of the base, they found a grassy spot beneath a lamp post and spread out a blanket.
“Let’s see.” Chris pulled some foil-wrapped mystery packages out of his mini cooler. He peeled back the foil to peek at its contents. “We have some quiche.” He unwrapped it and set it before them. “And here’s the good stuff.” He reached back in and pulled out another lump of foil. “My mom’s homemade peach cobbler.”
“Mmm,” Hannah said, getting a whiff of the still-warm cobbler as he unwrapped it. “That smells like heaven.”
“Wait’ll you taste it.” He reached back in and pulled out two bottles of Budweiser. “I know it’s the cheap stuff, but the good stuff’s a little harder to come by these days.” He twisted the top off of one before handing it to her. “You do drink beer, right?”
“I’m a college student, aren’t I? Or at least, I was.” She accepted the bottle and took a swig. Cheap beer or not, it was one of the best things she’d tasted in a long time.
Chris grinned as he handed her a fork. “What were you in school for?”
“Nursing. I was studying to be an RN.”
“Where were you going?”
“I was at Northern State. What about you?”
He shrugged as he opened his own beer. “I was at the junior college.”
“So you weren’t in the Army?”
He laughed. “No. My dad would’ve loved that too much.” He reached for his cobbler.
Hannah smiled. “Do you always eat dessert first?”
“Whenever I can get away with it.” He shoved a bite in his mouth and closed his eyes in obvious pleasure. It was too tempting. She tried her own bite of the cobbler, her own eyes closed in sheer ecstasy. Forget the beer. This was the best thing she’d tasted in recent memory, if not ever.
“Anyway,” said Chris, “I was an Army brat growing up. We moved all over the place and I was sick of it. I just wanted to settle down and stay in one place for more than a couple of years. Of course, that thrilled my mom. She said it was bad enough having to worry about Dad going off to war without having to worry about me, too.”
“Can’t say I blame her. What were you in school for?”
“I hadn’t decided yet. I was also working at Walmart, trying to save up enough money to transfer out to UCLA. My girlfriend—my ex-girlfriend, I mean.” The amendment had a touch of bitterness to it. “She got a scholarship out there. We tried to do the long-distance thing until I could go join her, but then last winter she e-mailed me to tell me she wanted to date other people.” He took a drink before adding, “Now I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”
“That’s terrible.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Don’t you just love it when you go out with someone and all they can talk about is their ex?”
“It’s okay. It’s part of your story.”
“What’s your story?”
Hannah shrugged. “I don’t really have one.” She didn’t want to talk about what happened to her parents. She was having too nice a time to go there. “I didn’t date much. I was too focused on school. My mom was only eighteen when she had me and she always made me promise not to let boys get in the way of finishing school.” She laughed, but it wasn’t joyful. “Of course, here I am anyway, twenty years old with a baby to raise.” She took a long pull on her beer.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but have you thought about giving him up? I know there are people here who would be glad to adopt him.”
She stared at him a moment before answering. “No. I mean, I haven’t had time to think about anything like that. Since the day he was born, I’ve just been doing my best to keep us both alive.” She looked around at their peaceful surroundings and shook her head. “We haven’t even been outside the shelter for a whole week. Only a few days ago we were in prison. And now all of a sudden we have a house, and I have a job, and here I am on a date… just the idea of having options is something I have to get used to again.
“But no. I wouldn’t give him up. He’s my brother. I don’t want him to be brought up by strangers.” She picked at her quiche. “Anyway, he’s all I have.”
“That’s not true anymore. You have friends now.”
She smiled. “I had a friend at the prison, too. At least, I think she would have been a good friend if I’d stayed.” She frowned, thinking about Phyllis. She hoped she was still okay. “I wish there was a way to bring her here.”
“Maybe there is. Have you asked the doc about it?”
“No. Not yet.”
They ate in silence for a moment. “Speaking of the doc,” said Chris, “I don’t want to pry, but, well, a guy goes to pick a girl up to take her out, and there’s another guy in her house looking kinda like he just rolled out of bed… it’s a little awkward.”
Hannah laughed. “He came by early in the morning. He was just going to leave a note, but I had insomnia, and when he saw my light on he decided to knock. Anyway, we got to talking and lost track of time. I couldn’t exactly kick him out into the daylight.” She shook her head. “I almost didn’t let him in to begin with.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, you know. The movies and stuff all say that you shouldn’t invite a vampire inside, because then they can get in whenever they want.”
“I don’t think that part’s true. I mean, I think if they really want to get in, they’re not going to wait for an invitation.”
“I know. It was stupid.”
“Hey, no.” He reached over and placed a hand on top of hers. “It’s not stupid to be careful.”
She looked down at their hands. It felt nice, the human contact. The warmth of his hand was in stark contrast to the coolness of Alek’s touch. She turned her hand over and clasped his. “Thanks.”
He smiled and squeezed her hand. He didn’t let go. “So why’d you decide to let him in?”
“Curiosity, mainly. I mean, I didn’t actually invite him. I wanted to see if he could come inside without an invitation. Obviously, he can.”
“So, you’re not afraid he’ll come back in the night while you’re sleeping and have his way with you?”
Chris was laughing, but his question summoned a mental image of herself with Alek that startled her. “Um.” She tried to think of a way to change the subject. Chris was still looking at her, smiling, and as she locked eyes with his, he started to lean closer. Hannah’s heart sped up and she closed her eyes. She could feel him getting closer, only a breath away. Then she heard a low, moaning sound, muffled, but close. Her eyes snapped open and she jumped to her feet.
“What—what’s wrong?” Chris stared up at her in confusion.
“Shh!” She listened, and then heard it again. It seemed to be coming from inside one of the buildings. “Did you hear that?” She looked around for a weapon. Her best bet seemed to be either a fork or a beer bottle, both of which would require getting too close.
“What, you mean Bob?”
She looked down at him. Why wasn’t he on his feet yet? “Bob?”
“It’s okay, it’s just Zach’s pet shambler. They keep him locked up in the old jail house.”
“Why?”
“They use him in their research. Come on, sit back down. It’s okay. We’re safe, I promise.”
Warily, Hannah lowered herself back to her knees, but her eyes roamed their surroundings. She stayed tense, ready to spring. “What is this place, anyway?”
“It’s the old fort. It was originally a cavalry post, back in the late 1800s.” He pointed to the building where the moaning came from, a squat, white stucco structure with a broad porch. “That was the jail, where they used to keep outlaws and Native American prisoners. And back there—” he pointed behind her, but when she looked it was too dark to make it out— “is the old stockade. They used to take cover in there whenever the fort came under attack. That’s where we holed up when the outbreak reached the base. We camped out in there for weeks.”
“Yeah, your mom told me.”
Chris nodded. “That thing’s at least a hundred years old, but it’s still formidable.”
Like Alek. She pushed the thought away. It bothered her that her mind kept straying to the vampire. “We’d better head back. It’s getting late and I don’t want to impose more on your mom than I have to.”
“You’re not. I mean, she’s doing it for me. Well, for her, too. She loves babies, can’t get enough of ’em.” Still, he stood up and offered a hand to help her up. She took it. “You’re really shaken up.”
She hugged herself. “Sorry. I guess I’m still pretty jumpy, after everything that’s happened.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s understandable. I think probably the entire human race has post-traumatic stress, so it’s not like you’re alone.”
“You seem to be fine, though,” she said as she watched him pack up the remains of their picnic.
“Well, I’ve had more time to get used to the idea of safety. But it’s not like I don’t still have nightmares or anything.” He handed her the cooler while he folded the blanket. “You just need time. Like you said, this is all still new for you. But you’ll adjust.”
“I hope so.”
“Come on. Let’s head back.” They walked for a while in the direction of their neighborhood before he said, “Look, I hope you don’t think… I mean, I know you’re, like, the only single girl my own age on the entire base.”
“Slim pickings, huh?”
“No! I mean, that’s what I’m trying to say, badly. That’s not the reason I asked you out.”
Hannah found herself grinning at his discomfort. “Then what’s the reason?”
“I like you,” he said, simply. “You’re pretty, and you seem smart, and tough—”
“Tough? Even after that wiggins I had back there, you think I’m tough?”
“You didn’t wig out. Well, you did, but you were, like, on your feet, ready to fight.”
“I was ready to run.”
“But you didn’t. A lot of girls would’ve taken off screaming. Hell, a lot of girls our age never would’ve survived on their own for five months, or taken on the monumental task of raising their baby brothers.” He bumped into her with his shoulder. “You’re made of strong stuff, Hannah Jordan.”
She smiled, briefly. “You only say that because you don’t know how terrified I am all the time.”
“Of what?”
“Of shamblers.” She laughed, like it should have been obvious. “Of vampires. Of getting eaten, or worse. Of… of screwing up. Making a wrong decision and getting Noah killed. Or getting myself killed and leaving him all alone.” She blew out a long sigh. “And I’m scared that I don’t know how to be a mother. That I’m going to screw that up, too.”
“Then maybe don’t try to be his mother. Just be his sister, but on, like, permanent baby-sitting duty.” Chris shrugged. “But parents screw up sometimes. I think maybe it goes with the territory.”
“I already screwed up by leaving that shelter. We were safe there, and all I did was land us in that prison.”
He took her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. “Don’t beat yourself up about that. You would’ve had to leave sooner or later. You would’ve run out of food eventually. Besides, look how it ended up.” He squeezed her hand.
Hannah smiled. “Thanks.”
He returned her smile. “Once, when I was younger and my dad was on leave, I asked him if fighting over there in the Middle East made him scared. He told me that he was scared every day, that all of his troops were. That there was something wrong with anybody who didn’t feel fear in that situation. He said it’s pushing past the fear that makes people brave. That toughness is not letting your fear stop you from doing what needs to be done.” He squeezed her hand again. “Like I said, you’re a tough girl.”
By then they’d reached her house. They walked up to the porch hand in hand. “So you like tough girls,” said Hannah. “Does that mean I should go to the store and see if I can dig up some chains and leather?”
Grinning, he walked with her up the steps. “Not necessary. Although I bet you’d look good in chains and leather.” They stood facing each other on the porch. Hannah lowered her gaze. It landed on the spot where Alek had been sitting when they left. She forced her eyes back up to meet his. “I guess my mom’s still inside,” he said.
“Yeah. Do you want to come in?”
“I think I’d rather say goodnight out here. Maybe next time you can bring the baby over to our place instead.”
Hannah grinned. “Next time?”
Chris matched her grin as he leaned in close. “Definitely.” His lips met hers. His kiss was soft and sweet, and Hannah appreciated that he didn’t get grabby or overly bold. He lingered before pulling back. “Good night.”
“Good night.” She watched him go down the steps and the front walk, turning every few steps to look back at her. Finally, she went inside.
Paula stood up from the living room sofa as soon as she opened the door. “How’d it go?”
“Good.” She shut the door and went into the living room. “It was nice. Chris is really sweet.”
“Yeah, I did raise a sweetheart, didn’t I?”
Hannah smiled. “Oh, and that peach cobbler?” She put a hand on Paula’s arm and closed her eyes, unable to find words for how good it was. When she opened her eyes again, Paula was grinning.
“You liked that, huh? Well, good. These days I don’t bake all that often, but this seemed like a special occasion. You want me to send over some of the leftovers?”
“That’s okay.” At Paula’s disappointed look, she added, “I mean, I would love some. But I’ve got to start getting back in shape.”
Paula scoffed at that. “Sweetie, it’s not like you need to lose weight.”
“I know. But I need to build my strength back up. And I need to work on my endurance. All that sugar…”
“Will help put some healthy meat back on those bones,” Paula insisted. “I’ll send some over tomorrow. And the quiche, too.”
Defeated, Hannah laughed. “Thanks. How’s Noah?”
“He’s such a little doll. He woke up not long after you left, and I fed him some peas and applesauce—he really loved that applesauce. Then we played and I read him the books I brought over.” She pointed to a stack of indestructible baby books on the coffee table. “You can keep those. He sure seemed to like them. Anyway, I put him back to bed about half an hour ago, and he went right to sleep.”
“Thanks for watching him.”
“It was my pleasure.” She turned to grab her purse from the side table. “You look about as tuckered out as he did, so I’m gonna get out of your hair.” Walking toward the door she said, “I’ll get over here about 3:30 tomorrow. That ought to give you plenty of time to get to your new job.”
Hannah walked her to the door. “Thank you so much. I really mean it.”
Paula grinned. “And I really mean that it’s a pleasure. You call me any time you need help with that little angel.”
Hannah smiled. “I will.” She saw Paula out, and then locked the door. Turning around, she noticed that the piano bench had never been pushed back in. She went over and scooted it under the piano. She paused, remembering how Alek had looked, all rumpled and straight out of bed, eyes closed as he bent over the keys, his face etched with a mix of grief and nostalgia. She wondered what he thought about while he played. Then she remembered how he’d looked afterwards, the hope in his eyes when he’d asked her to dinner.
Or had she imagined that? Along with the glimpse of disappointment she thought she’d seen after turning him down?
“He was just being nice,” she said aloud. He couldn’t have seriously wanted to take her out. He was a century old, and a doctor, and let’s not forget barely human. They had nothing in common. How could he possible want her?
How could she possibly want him?
She turned away from the piano and forced all thoughts of Alek from her mind. She replayed the date with Chris in her head while she got ready for bed. When she lay down she touched her fingers to her lips, remembering their kiss. The first kiss she’d had in a very long time.
She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow. It smelled like soap and men’s shampoo. As she breathed it in, her thoughts drifted back to the vampire who’d slept in her bed, the kiss quickly forgotten.
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning Hannah put the jogging stroller to its intended use. Noah seemed to enjoy the ride, babbling happily while Hannah jogged up and down the streets of her new neighborhood. She grew winded after only a couple of blocks and had to slow to a brisk walk, and then she jogged some more once she’d caught her breath.
It frustrated her that she’d gotten so out of shape. She’d been on the track team in high school. In college, although she hadn’t joined the team, she’d still kept up her daily run. Before the shelter, she’d been able to run five miles in thirty minutes. Now she couldn’t even run one.
She knew she’d be in big trouble if she ever needed to run for her life.
Fortunately, the infected moved slowly. Individually, they could easily be outrun. It was their tendency to mob up that made them so deadly. Vampires, on the other hand, were unbelievably fast. Hannah remembered the prison guard, how she’d had no hope of outrunning him, and shuddered. It was almost lucky that he’d wanted more from her than just a meal; otherwise he could have torn her throat out and there would have been nothing she could do about it. Out of breath and struggling, she pushed herself to run just a little farther, and a little faster.
By the time she got home, her heart felt like it was ready to burst. A truck was parked in front of her house. The old man who’d driven the tank was unloading boxes and stacking them on her porch. Doubled over, bracing her hands against her knees and struggling to breathe, she racked her brain for his name. Was it Ed? Or Ned?
She wanted to ask what he was doing, but she couldn’t draw enough air to speak. Finally, she felt stable enough to push the stroller up the front walk. She sat down on the porch steps and waved to Ned as he unloaded another box.
“Sure is hot,” he said. Hannah nodded and dug her water bottle out of one of the stroller’s many pockets. “Humid, too. Not the best weather for a workout.”
She drained the bottle and then regained the ability to talk. “I used to be used to it. I guess it’s not the best weather for hauling boxes, either. What is all this?”
“Special delivery. Carl brought your things down from your old house overnight and asked me to deliver it this morning.”
“Thanks. And thank Carl for me.” She stood up. “Here, I’ll help.” She was still breathing heavy, and her legs felt like jelly, but she felt bad letting the old man do all the work.
“No need. Just got one more box.”
“Well, do you want to come in and get some water?”
“That’s all right, but thanks all the same. I need to get back to the farm.”
Hannah thanked him again and took the baby inside while he unloaded the final box. Maybe Ed, or Ned, didn’t need water, but she did. She drank two full glasses before putting Noah in his playpen so she could take a quick shower. Once she was dressed, she hauled some of the boxes into the living room.
There were about thirty in all, loaded with her family’s personal effects. As she opened the boxes and dug through them, she was happy to find her own clothes. She also found pictures, knick knacks that had sat around the house, her mom and dad’s clothes. One box was full of baby things, but most of them were meant for a newborn. Noah had already outgrown them.
It felt strange going through her family’s belongings in this new house. She didn’t know how to feel. Mostly, she felt numb. It would be a lot of work sorting through it, deciding what to keep and what to donate to the store. She couldn’t decide whether decorating the house with her mother’s things would be comforting, or if it would only make her sad.
She opened another box and peered inside. It took a moment to register that she was looking at her father’s duffel bag. She stared a moment longer before pulling it out. It felt as heavy as the last time she’d held it, and she set it on the floor with a thud.
She unzipped it and found everything she’d taken with her from the shelter. MREs, provisions for Noah, and guns. The bag still held her dad’s rifle, his Sig Sauer P220, and plenty of ammunition for both. Did they mean to give her these? The automatic shotgun was there, too, even though she’d left it in the foyer of her old house. Someone had to have intentionally packed it for her. Not that she was about to complain.
She pulled out the Sig and checked the chamber. Still loaded. She wondered whether she’d be able to find a holster at Paula’s store. She doubted it, but this was an Army base. There had to be a spare holster lying around somewhere. Thinking about how scared she’d been the night before, just hearing that thing moaning inside the old jail, she knew she’d feel a lot safer walking around at night if she had a sidearm, no matter how many supposedly good vampires patrolled the fence.
Hannah laid the handgun on the kitchen counter and stashed the rifle and shotgun in the coat closet. She knew she needed to find safer storage for them, and soon. Noah was already starting to crawl. He’d be walking before she knew it. Although it would likely be at least another year or two before he’d have the strength and coordination to actually pick up a gun, she didn’t want to take any chances.
But for now, it was time to get ready for her new job. Paula would be there soon. Hannah hauled the boxes filled with her clothing into her bedroom. She checked on Noah and found him sacked out in his playpen. She left him there while she changed into work-appropriate slacks and a button-down shirt. It felt good to wear her own clothes again, even if they hung a little loosely on her.
She clipped her hair up in a loose bun and put on just enough makeup to avoid being confused for one of the walking dead. She found a set of nursing scrubs that she’d been required to wear to her classes and stuck them in a tote bag. She didn’t know whether Zach would want her to wear scrubs, or if he’d supply her with a set, but she wanted to be prepared.
She put the gun in there, too. After a moment’s deliberation, she went to the closet to retrieve the spare magazine and added it to the tote.
Paula knocked on the door and let herself in as Hannah took a deep breath to steady the butterflies in her stomach. Time go see what her new normal looked like.
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