The Town of Last Haven: A Zombie Novel

Part 43

Jake saw footprints in the thin snow when he left the Brown House. He saw snow sticking to the tree trunk by Julia's window, and he knew full-well that Luke had been here. The sun high in the sky now, Jake shaded his eyes and saw Luke down the street turning the corner swiftly.

As much as I hate you, Jake thought to himself, I don't know if I want to see you die... even if you are a waste of space and breath. Jake headed in Luke's direction, then saw everyone gathering by a line of trucks--they were all heading beyond the town borders to attend to the matter of killing the zombie horde coming their way.

Jake had on a brown parka with a hood, and he felt the small circlet in his jacket pocket. When I return, he thought, I will give this to you, my sweet Natalie. Jake had this planned for so long now; he'd fallen for Natalie the second he saw her that day on the red pickup truck--what seemed like a lifetime ago already--and had planned to ask her for so long.

He didn't want to tempt fate, so he said nothing; he would, however, when he returned to her.

I love you, Jake thought, a picture of Natalie in his mind. Her blonde hair swayed in the breeze, her brown eyes Earthy and beautiful, her skin pale and porcelain. She was an angel in his eyes, and he would be her archangel and protector.

To her, to her whole family--to their whole family.

Jake pulled the strap of his rifle over his shoulder, then checked the ammo casings he had carried--they were all good to go. He'd kill as many of the dead as he had to in protecting Natalie Brown and the rest of her family.

Jake wound up on the same truck as Luke, who made sure not to meet Jake's gaze. Luke had a pistol in one hand and brass knuckles in the other. There wasn't much Luke could do against the dead like that, but he was still a coward showing bravado. And Jake could see right through it.

"Any word on our traveling guests?" Jake asked one of the men next to him, one whom he knew to have questioned the people with the information about the zombie horde.

"Yeah," said the guy. "They're about ready to pass out from the exhaustion of all this madness, but we had scouts check the whereabouts of the horde. They'll be cutting it close." The man wiped sweat from his brow despite the cold winter around them. "Jesus Christ, say a prayer for me, will you?" he asked Jake, who then nodded.

"There is no God," said another with his head down--Jake couldn't see his face.

"God tests his bravest and strongest children." Jake didn't care if he'd be thought of as an idiot, but he didn't want anyone dissing their Lord.

"If anyone's going to make it out of this, it's you," said a young blonde boy with sky blue eyes. He was looking to Jake. "You're handy with a gun--one of the best, my uncle says." Jake then recognized him. The boy was the nephew of one of the former Army guys. He didn't know the boy's name or his uncle's name, but he knew their faces now.

"Thanks," Jake said humbly.

The trucks drove onward until there came puddles of mud too deep to drive through. One of the trucks got stuck, its wheels sinking fast, and Jake watched as the gunmen got out of the vehicle. The other trucks were driving around it, the gunmen boarding and overcrowding the others, and Jake remembered something his dad once told him--it was something he was surprised no one else thought of.

His dad once said, when a car gets stuck in mud, the best thing is taking some sticks and rocks and circle them around the wheels for leverage and leeway, you know what I mean? Your grandfather once told me that, and I'm telling you that now.

Jake hopped out of the truck, followed by Luke, and listened to his late father's good advice. Luke was questioning him the whole time, but the truck became unstuck, and left him in surprise. "Where'd you learn that?" he asked Jake.

"My dad, just like a lot of other things." Jake wasn't one for talking much with Luke--he knew what had happened. Everything that happened. The two hopped on the now-unstuck truck and were off.