Chapter Fourteen—Trace
We hear Kyra start to clamber down the stairs. The six members of her group unconsciously sit up straighter. I raise an eyebrow, curious as to why they need to prove themselves to this tiny girl.
She starts talking before she even enters the room. “All right guys, if we’ve got everything ready, I’d like to be out of here in, say—” She halts when she sees them sitting on the couches in their pyjamas.
“What’s going on?” she demands aggressively, running a hand through her damp hair, presumably to uncover her eyes and make her glare more effective.
“Kyra, we need to talk,” Danno begins.
“Way to make it sound like you’re breaking up with her. You know, when nothing even happened between you two,” Archie says, somewhat gloatingly. Daniel frowns at him.
My eyes widen. Kyra Leigh and Daniel. Well, that’s news to me, then again, there’s always surprises when it comes to this girl.
“Boss, listen, we just wanted to explain that...” Tamsyn stops, unsure of how to finish.
“That we like it here,” Izzie picks up, “and we don’t know why you want to leave.”
“We’d have a nice life here. We’d be protected,” Jackie adds.
“You!” Kyra Leigh turns to me and points an accusing finger. She stalks towards me and I take a step back without even realizing it. So that’s why they listen to her, she’s bloody terrifying when she needs to be. “You put them up to this, didn’t you? You have them...you have them brainwashed or something!”
“I have them brainwashed? Take a look in the mirror. Who do they call ‘Boss’ and listen to their every word like it’s a law? Who commands them and orders what happens and when it happens? Not me, Princess. Not me,” I retort.
“What? So you think I’m some sort of dictator?”
“I never said that!” I reply, trying to curb my anger.
“It was an implication!”
“I didn’t—” I start to explode, but Danno cuts me off.
“Kyra, he’s trying to tell you something,” he says in a quiet voice.
“Yea, I got that,” she snorts.
I sigh. “Sit down.”
“What?” she asks, confused.
“Please just sit for a moment.”
“I want to leave n—”
Eruption. “Just sit down!”
She glowers at me but complies.
I look to Danny who nods his head. “I want—”
“Why are there so few supplies in the front hall?” Kyra interrupts.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Because, Kyra Leigh, you aren’t leaving.” She starts to argue, but I shout over her. “You want to be away from me and that’s fine, I get it, but I will not let you lead your friends into danger. You can have the house, your friends know what to do. I will leave.”
This is news to everyone except Danny. They all stare at me. My eyes don’t waver from Kyra Leigh as she frowns at me.
At last, she turns to her team. “Is this true?”
They slowly nod their heads. Kyra glances down at her hands, and for a moment, I think that she’s got the message. Then she looks up at us with fire in her eyes,
“Fine. If you guys won’t come, I’ll go on my own.” She pivots and leaves the room.
“Kyra, wait!” Archie starts to stand.
“No, you guys stay here, take care of things. I’ll make sure everything’s all right and bring her back. Graham, could you take care of the animals when I’m gone? Jackie, watch Fang for me please,” I tell them as I run after her. I open the closet and retrieve my swords and a new quiver of arrows, just in case we need them. I also snag my giant emergency backpack. Just before leaving, I remember my jacket and quickly slide it off the hanger. Then I race out the open front door. Kyra Leigh stands at the gate, yearningly looking out through the fence. Last night I cleaned up the zombie bodies as to get rid of the nasty smell that came from their burnt, decayed flesh.
I slow down as I approach her.
“Let me out. Now,” she growls.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” I ask.
“Yes!”
“Positive?”
“YES!” she hollers.
“All right then,” I reply. I hand her the quiver and open the gate. She steps in after me. I dial in the code, and the door swings open. She pushes past me and starts walking away. I step out after and close the door behind me.
She turns and scowls. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Go back!” she commands.
“Can’t. The code can only be entered from the inside, remember?” I say. It’s a partial lie, there are other ways in besides this front door, but Kyra Leigh doesn’t need to know that.
“Get Fang.”
“I can’t. He’s inside and can’t hear me.”
“You—ugh!” she groans and marches away. I follow, skillfully putting on my jacket whilst still moving and without having to put down the bags. I take pride in this accomplishment.
“Go away!”
“No can do.”
“You are so annoying!” she screams.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
She decides to walk in silence. I hum a tune to go with my song. She huffs at me, trying to tell me to stop without actually saying the words. I completely ignore her.
Kyra leads the way, bushwhacking the entire time. She tries to make it so that the branches snap back and hit me, which I find to be endlessly amusing. Just as the morning promised, by early afternoon it starts to rain. Even in the cover of trees we become drenched. When she starts to shake I suggest, “Maybe we should make camp?”
“W-w-what t-t-time is it?” her teeth chatter.
I check my watch. “A little after five.”
“Th-th-that’s it!” she exclaims.
“Well, to be honest, I was surprised you’ve walked for this long.”
She looks over her shoulder and glares at me.
“Turn right,” I tell her.
“W-why?”
“Must you always argue? Here.” I step around her, grabbing her elbow in the process, and pull her to the right. We hike for awhile before coming to a clearing.
“H-h-how did y-you know this was h-here?” she questions.
“Man’s intuition,” I joke as I slide the bag off my back. Actually, I’ve been walking through these forests for years and know most of it off by heart, no map or compass necessary. I set up tags and such in case I ever needed them, which reminded me of the clearing. I reach into the knapsack and pull out a little tent and toss Kyra one of the packs of thermal blankets. “Here, use this to keep warm.”
She catches it, but drops it, her hands too numb to hold it. I pick it up and open it, unfolding and draping the blanket over her shoulders. She ducks her head and murmurs a thanks. I go back to setting up camp. The tent is a two person one, intended for myself and Fang. I grab some clothes out of the pack and throw them inside our shelter. I turn and wave for Kyra to come closer. She starts to go into the tent, but I stop her.
“Take your shoes off, I’ll put a tarp over them. There are some clothes inside. Change into them and toss me your wet ones,” I say.
She does as I say. I can tell the weather and longing for her friends is getting to her. The fire in her eyes is smothered. I wrap her clothes in a smaller canvas and place them under the tarp with her shoes. I take off my own footwear and jump into the tent. I zip up the entrance. I have to crouch in here which absolutely sucks. I turn to Kyra. She’s curled in the corner, the tin-foil-like blanket pulled tightly around her. I dig into the sack again, this time retrieving the sleeping bag and a tiny pillow.
“Here, take these.” I lay them on the floor and gesture for her to crawl in.
She looks at it longingly but doesn’t move. “W-what about y-y-you?”
I shrug. “I’ll be fine. It’s not cold out.”
“Y-y-you’re crazy,” she says. I’m starting to think that’s her catchphrase.
“You know, I’m beginning to wonder about my sanity. I think your presence may be ruining it. One of these days you’ll make me pull my own hair out and run away. Anyway, I’ll keep you posted, let you know if I near the psychotic level due to overexposure of Kyra Leigh.”
She squints at me. “Jerk.”
“Speaking of jerk...” I once again stick my hand in the backpack, “beef jerky?”
She takes a handful and stuffs it in her mouth. She grabs another one. “Whoa, Princess. Save some for me.”
She snorts and continues wolfing down her food. I take out a box of soda crackers as well, which Kyra quickly snatches out of my grasp and rips open. I guess she’s pretty hungry.
She ogles the giant backpack in amazement. “How much stuff have you fit in there?”
I chuckle. “You’d be surprised.”
After that, neither of us can think of something to say. I sit cross-legged, racking my brain for anything.
“Why did you follow me?” Kyra Leigh murmurs.
I lift my head to see her staring at me, her hand frozen halfway to her mouth, jerky forgotten in her fingers.
I shrug. “I know what it’s like to be alone. I didn’t want you to have to go through it.” She scoffs, and starts to reply, but I talk over her. “Plus, it’s my fault you left. I don’t really know what I did, but I do know that I was the one who did it. So, sorry for whatever it was I did.”
She blinks, puzzled. “That’s you just being another guy and covering all the bases.”
I smirk. Though she’s irritating, Kyra Leigh is always straightforward. She just says it like it is. “Yea, I guess you’re right.”
“So, are you going to go back to the others?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Not without you.”
“Aw, look who’s getting all sentimental,” she coos.
“No, I’m just not going to have you die. I don’t need any more blood on my hands,” I say.
I can tell she wants to question me further, but she thankfully doesn’t. She just nods and continues munching away on my food supply. I sit there and go over everything in my head. I hope the others are all right. Graham knows what he’s doing and I’m sure Daniel will run things just fine.
“Wait!” Kyra yells, startling me out of my thoughts. “If we’re in here, how will we know if the undead are near?” she asks in a panicked voice around a mouthful of jerky and crackers.
“Ah, you’re quite right. I’m going to go set up some tripwires with little bells around our camp. That way if any zombies get any funny ideas about snacking on us, we’ll know they’re there before they can even take another step closer.”
She bobs her head in approval. “Smart.”
“Whoa, whoa. Hold up a second. Was that a compliment, Princess?” I laugh.
“Nope. It was merely an observation...peasant,” she answers.
“Peasant? Really?”
She shrugs. “I can’t think well on an empty stomach.”
“Empty stomach my ass, you just ate all of my beef jerky and crackers! And that, dear Princess, was an observed fact,” I reply.
She waves her hand in the air. “Don’t you have some traps to set?”
I smile and shake my head as I leave the tent. I set two traps up, in case, by chance, an undead happens to step over the first one. I set the bells up so that they are directly connected to the string and will not ring when the wind blows. Don’t want any false alarms. This part of the woods hasn’t seen zombie activity in a long time, so I am fairly certain that it is going to be a quiet night.
I discard my shoes and enter the tent again to see Kyra Leigh passed out. To those who don’t know her, she’d look kind of cute when sleeping. But, to those who do know her, they know that it’s just the monster at rest. I unpack another set of clothes and change into them. I have to awkwardly bend in order to get dressed, but I also can’t move too much, else I will wake the demon and face her fiery wrath. Damn this small tent.
From the bottom of my hiking backpack, I retrieve one of my sketch books and pencils. In the side pockets of the bag are flashlights. I take one and turn it on, making sure not to wake Kyra Leigh up. I have this itch to draw. I tap one of the pencils against my chin as I try to decide what to sketch.
“Bass,” Kyra murmurs in her sleep.
“The fish?” I whisper. “That is a horrible suggestion.”
I let my mind wander. I remember the time when Scarlett was by my side. I was still in bed, tired, sick, and weak. She was always there to make me smile, to make me want to fight.
“Here, I thought maybe this would help,” she said one day as she handed me a present.
“What’s this for? It’s not my birthday or anything,” I replied.
She giggled, her laughter like music. “It’s for you, silly. Just for being who you are.”
“I didn’t know that being me had so many perks,” I said with a grin.
She leaned over and kissed me. “Open it,” she whispered.
I did as Scar said. I carefully undid the tape from each corner, opening it the way I opened every present. Scarlett reached over and tore it down the middle, an innocent smile on her face.
“Hey! This is my present,” I laughed as I moved it away from her reach.
“Then open it properly!”
“I was not aware of the fact that there was a certain way you had to open presents.”
“Well, there is, and you suck at it. Let me do it.” She held out her hand.
“Fine,” I mock pouted as I gave it to her. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and then proceeded to furiously tear open the package. Bits of wrapping paper flew everywhere like confetti. My favourite part though, was seeing the totally joy on Lettie’s face. That girl has always been beautiful.
She held the gift out to me. I was too busy observing her that I didn’t even notice.
“Tray!” she tittered as she nudged me with the present.
I looked down and saw the sketch book and pack of different pencils.
“What’s this?” I questioned as I took it from her.
“I’ve seen you draw on scrap pieces of paper. You’re really good. I thought maybe you should have a place where you can put all of your drawings. And, at the art store, I was told that there are different kinds of pencils, some with softer lead or graphite or whatever. You use them for different shading and such,” she elaborated.
“Lettie I—”
“Don’t Trace,” she said. “Just say thanks.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
She gave me a tiny smile.
I shake my head roughly. I don’t want to remember Scar. I live in the here and now, not in the past.
I flip to a new page and just draw. I let my arm go free. The picture I end up with is two hands. One hand, a hand of a male, is holding a rose. The other hand, a woman’s hand, is reaching for the flower. I like it. I plan to add a hint of red to the rose when I finally manage to bring Kyra back to the house.
I glance at my watch and see that it’s past ten at night. The rain still splashes against the tent, although it has slowed down significantly. I turn off the torch.
I slip out of my jacket, gently throwing it to the end of the tent. I take out another tin-foil blanket and lay down beside Kyra Leigh. I’m surprised by how tired I am. In almost no time, I become a prisoner of sleep.
...
Marshall and I cover each other as we near the spot where the sniper hides. He’s been taking out our men all day. Mars and I volunteered to track him and eliminate him. We had to go around the long way in order to come up behind him. We scouted the enemy lines and spotted the weak link on their defences. We quickly moved in and dispatched of them swiftly. Now, we watch our step as to not make a rookie’s mistake and snap a twig or something to give away our location.
We know the general area the sniper is in, but we were unable to pinpoint his exact location before we set off. Based on the angles and sites of the shots, I deducted that he was on top of this hill. I signal for Marshall to stay behind. He nods and raises his gun, aiming at the top, to cover me. I army crawl up the hill. Once I get to the peak, I watch. The sun is directly above, so if the sniper moves slightly, I may be able to catch the glint of his gun. Usually snipers work in pairs, but this one has been working on his own. If he had a partner, they would have taken out more of our men. This guy though, he is notorious for achieving the perfect headshot.
I patiently wait. I sign to Marshall to follow me up. He drops to the ground and slowly makes his way up to meet me. I am distracted by looking out for him, that I almost miss it. From the corner of my eye, I see what I’ve been waiting for. The metal of the gun catches the sunlight, making it shine. I raise myself up and fire at what seems to be a bush. I hear the sniper grunt as my bullets hit him.
I duck back down, waiting to see if he’s only injured and still able to fire back. Nothing happens. Marshall catches up to me. He points to the left, indicating that he’ll go around that way and we can check to make sure the sniper is dead. I dip my head in agreement. We make our way, closer and closer to the fake bush. We try not to move too fast and draw attention to ourselves. Once we reach the shrub, Mars gestures for me to move it. He lowers his gun, aiming at the spot. My heart starts to pound. I flip over the bush.
“No! No, no, no!” I whisper as I drop to me knees.
Staring up at me, with blank hazel eyes, is Scarlett. Three separate blossoms of blood are on her side and chest. Her strawberry blonde hair is fanned out around her head. I pull her into my lap.
“I killed her,” I cry. “Scar, I’m so, so sorry.” I close my eyes and try not to scream.
“You’re a disappointment son.”
I open my eyes. I’m in a hospital bed with machines attached to me. My gut throbs, feeling like it is repeatedly being stabbed. Standing at the foot of my bed is my father. He’s in his uniform, fancy hat tucked under his arm. His black hair is still cut short, poofy moustache still in place. His dark brown eyes gaze at me. I’m surprised he actually personally came to insult me, I’m not usually worth his time and effort.
“You are not a man. You can’t even fight for your own country.”
“Father, I tried. At least I was out there facing what was happening and not behind the lines ‘planning’ attacks like a coward,” I reply harshly.
“You implying that I’m a coward, son?” Father growls.
“Implying? Sorry if I gave you that impression. I thought that I was making it very clear that I do think that you are a coward.”
Father just stares at me. “Enjoy dying here then. You may live for a few years, but you know what the doctors said. You are just barely hanging in.”
With that he puts his hat back on, turns, and marches out the door.
“It’s all right, honey. Your dad doesn’t mean that. We’re going to get through this, I promise,” my mother grabs onto my hand and squeezes.
“You’re so brave, Trace. You’re so strong. Hold on there, sweetie.” She leans over and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes.
I open my eyes and scream. The restraints on my wrists and ankles dig into me every time I move. Still, I yank on them trying to free myself. I rip the skin and blood starts to drip.
“Trace, stop struggling! This is for your own good!” my mother calls to me from the corner of the room where she is sitting in a chair.
“I told you, I don’t want this! Let me go!”
“Trace, you’ll die without this, don’t you understand?” she tries to reason with me.
“I don’t care! I don’t want it! Let me out of here!” I yell.
“You will have to get your son to stop moving. We can’t help him if he keeps thrashing,” a doctor says from behind me.
“No!” I shout and start fighting back harder, slamming my head back and connecting with something, or, rather, someone. I hear bone crushing under my blow, but, at the same time, my vision goes hazy and my head starts spinning.
“Stop it! You’re hurting yourself!” Mom screams at me.
“I don’t care!” I repeat.
Hands start to grab at me, holding me in place.
“Stop it!” I bellow.
They don’t. I feel them jabbing my back and cry out one more time, before everything goes black.
...
I choke on air and wake up. I’m still safe in the tent. I sit up and check to see if Kyra Leigh is still sleeping. She is. I rub my eyes to clear them and inspect my watch. It’s just after six. Eight hours, that’s a record for me.
I start to stand before remembering that I’m too tall. I sigh and hunch over, creeping my way over to the exit, picking up my discarded coat along the way. I unzip the cover and step out into the early morning, stooping down to collect and put on my shoes. The forest is waking up with me. Birds fly over head chirping a part of nature’s symphony. A rabbit quickly hops away, frightened by my presence. I rotate around again, reaching into the shelter for my pencils and book. I start to draw the forest around me.
This is how Kyra Leigh finds me two hours later.
She tries to look around me to see what I’m working on. I slam the sketch book closed. I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but my art is private and I’d prefer not to share it with brash, unfamiliar girls.
“So what’s happening today, are we finally going to turn back?” I query.
She shakes her head, brown curls flying. “Nope. We’re going that way. Start packing up, peasant.”
“Enough with the peasant already, Princess,” I groan.
“Not until you stop with the ‘princess’,” she bargains.
I narrow my eyes. “Never.”
“Then peasant it is,” she declares.
I start to clear up while she wanders into the trees. “Hey! Where are you going?” I call after her. I wouldn’t put it past her to be the idiot to wander off and get herself killed.
“I need to pee,” she responds as she carefully steps over the wires I laid out.
I laugh at her honesty. I put all of the dry items in the bag. I’ll just have to carry the tent in my arms. I start to circle the campsite, getting the traps and neatly setting them away. By the time I’m packed up, Kyra Leigh is heading back into the site. She tucks her hands in the sweat pant pockets. Somewhere along her journey, she took off the sweater I gave her. She has it folded under her arm. The t-shirt she has on hugs her body, emphasizing her stellar figure.
"If you don't stop looking at my chest soon then I'll make it so all you can see is stars," she tells me.
“Is it really my fault if I am a guy who just so happens to notice when a girl has some great breasts?”
Her face turns beat red. She pulls the sweater back over her head. “I'm not your type, I'm not inflatable.”
For a moment I just stand there, shocked. Then I throw my head back and laugh. She smiles at her own joke, but doesn’t waste precious time.
“Grab the stuff. We have to get moving.” She picks up her quiver and bow, then leads the way once again.
“‘On the road again, I can’t wait to get on the road again’,” I mutter as I follow.