Going to Clint's

Outside of the police station, Chris and Katrina took a left turn and headed towards the church. Instead of stopping, Katrina announced that they were going over to Clint’s. Chris was excited, he desperately wanted to hear Clint's story about Emily. Once They walked through the headstones, past the bell tower and through the other-side of the church, they were in the residential area. Another few minutes of weaving through streets and ducking under over grown trees, they arrived at a smaller, one-storey brick house. Chris noticed the brush was grown out and the grass hadn’t been mowed in about a month. There were trees in the front of the house that were so big and full, they looked like ancient guards hovering over the front yard; scaring away any unwanted intruders.

Katrina walked up to the door and pushed it open with no hesitations. Chris tentatively followed, examining the interior walkway decorated with family pictures. Clint obviously hadn’t had the heart to take them down since his wife’s passing. Everything was neat and tidy, but Chris assumed Mama had a hand in that.

Katrina was sad at the appearance of Clint’s house; she could remember playing in the front yard with Emily. Now the front yard resembled a house that neighborhood kids all over would be afraid to come to on Halloween; afraid they would be gobbled up by little old witch.

She pushed through her feelings like a velvet curtain, walked up to the door and opened it like she was to be expected. She had already been inside since she’s been back, but it still surprised her how unchanged the house was. She would have thought Clint would have tried to re-decorate, renovate or even move out of the house when the chaos started to subside.

She walked through into the living room where Clint was sitting with Mama on the long, brown, faux-velvet couch. They were already looking up to see who had walked through the door uninvited. Both smiled at the sight of Katrina, but Katrina noticed the smile melt off Clint’s face when Chris came out of the hallway.

“Who’s this?” Clint demanded.

“This is Katrina’s friend Clint, all the way from New York.” Mama offered.

“I met him on the plane out here.” Katrina said. “We told you about him.” Katrina said excitedly, trying hard to diffuse the bomb that was about to explode.

“The one reporting on the infection?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Chris smiled the biggest smile he could muster and walked up to Clint to shake his hand— despite the fact Clint was still sat comfortably on the couch. Looking through Clint’s eyes into his angry and destroyed spirit made Chris feel sympathetic and intimidated all at the same time.

Clint didn’t shake Chris’ hand, instead he got up, excused himself and walked down another hall into what Chris assumed was a bathroom.

“Sorry,” Mama and Katrina blurted.

“It’s OK.” I’m an unwanted guest, trying to pry into his life again.

“Maybe just don’t ask any questions until he gets to know you a bit more around here chicken.” Mama warned.

“No problem.”

Clint came out of the bathroom and stopped in the entrance to the living room. “Look, I’m kinda tired. It’s almost two O’clock. I think I’m gonna take a nap. Katrina, if you want, go down to Emily quickly and then I’d appreciate it if y’all would leave.” He turned and walked through the hallway into his bedroom.

Chapter 9: The morning after

9

Chris woke-up and looked at his watch; It was eight O’clock on Saturday morning. He tried to piece together the night before but his pounding head and stale tasting mouth reminded him.

“Ugh, I’m never drinking again.” He said to himself. It had been a long time since he had that much to drink. The memories of the rest of the night were washed away with his second beer on the rooftop.

He thought about sitting up and getting dressed. He could hear Jerrid and Mama in the Kitchen and he didn’t want to be rude, sleeping in all day. First he needed to lay a little longer until his head and inner ear allow him to be vertical--for more than three seconds. He curled into a fetal position with half of his legs hanging over the bed. He could feel a draft making it’s way down his back, he tried to pull the covers around him some more but they wouldn’t budge. He tugged a little harder then they tugged back. He flipped over to his right side to confront who or what was playing tug-O-war with him.

Katrina was laying with her back to him. She kept her eyes closed with the light from the window penetrating her eyelids. Her whole body was in pain from the level of toxicity in her blood.

She was still dressed in her clothes from the night before so Chris assumed nothing happened between them, but he had to be sure.

“Hey...” He shook her lightly, “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“This is my house,” she mumbled.

“I know. What are you doing in my bed?”

Katrina turned over and stared at him a moment. “You asked me to sleep here last night,” She waited for a response from him and leaned up on her elbows. “Oh, you don’t remember,” She rubbed her face, “You said you were scared and asked if I would protect you.”

“I did?”

Katrina nodded and chuckled “You were joking I think. We were both pretty drunk though.”

“Did anything happen?”

“Well, you’re still alive aren’t you?”

“No, I mean between us? Did we…?”

“Oh, no. Look I’m completely dressed.” She lifted the blanket to flash him her fully clothed figure. I wouldn’t have minded, she thought before mentally disciplining herself.

“Okay good.”

“Good?” Katrina was aware she took that the wrong way; thinking Chris would never want to have relations with her.”

“Don't take that the wrong way. I just meant I’d hate to complicate this for you.” He would have been open to start something with Katrina if they lived in the same city; she was his type but he didn’t want to use her for sex. “I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“I get it. Okay. Just think of it as a sleep-over.”

“I’m going to get dressed and go out to the kitchen, it sounds like Mama and Jerrid are up.”

“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute. I can smell egg and pastry; breakfast is almost ready.”

Chris sniffed the air, but couldn’t smell anything.

Chris grabbed his jeans off the floor and pulled them on under the covers. He grabbed a shirt nearest to him and glanced at Katrina who was lying with her eyes closed, willing her stomach to stop turning. She needed to give herself a shot as soon as she could stand. That would cut her hangover in half. She was starving and knew the medication would cut that in half, too.

“I’ll see you out there?”

“Yup.”

Jerrid was sitting at the kitchen table sipping a coffee and reading a newspaper. He looked up and nodded at Chris as he came in. When he looked back at the paper, Chris walked over to the kitchen where Mama was making something that smelled like it would help his hangover.

“Sit Chicken, I’ve made a breakfast quiche for y'all, it’s just cooling. Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” He sat down in the wooden chair waiting for someone to strike up a conversation.

Mama set a cup of terra-cotta colored coffee in front of him, along with two Tylenol and one vitamin.
“Multi-vitamin, it will help your hangover.”

“How’d you know I take cream in my coffee?”

“Oh, lucky guess I suppose, you look like a cream type of guy.” Jerrid chuckled through his nose and peered at Chris through the tops of his eyes. Mama winked at him and wandered back towards the kitchen. “Where’s Trinket?”

Chris stiffened, wondering if she already knew where she was. He glanced at Jerrid who could be less interested in him at the moment.

“Uh, sleeping I guess?” Mama didn’t reply which made Chris even more curious. “Do you want me to wake her?”

“No no, hangovers affect her more than us. Leave her be.”

“’Kay.” Chris could hear the crackling of bacon in a frying pan and his mouth started to water. “Smells delicious.”

“Thanks Chicken.”

Chris heard his bedroom door open. He turned in his chair to look down the hall. Katrina was closing his door and opening the bathroom door. He turned back towards Jerrid-- who saw the same thing. Jerrid stared at Chris a moment before clearing his throat and re-occupying himself with the two-day-old newspaper he was reading. He glanced at Chris only once more through the corner of his eye. Chris, in a moment of panic shook his head; he wanted to yell that nothing happened, but Mama hadn’t seen it and he didn’t want to make a bigger situation of it than it already was.

“What’s your plan today Chicken?” Mama put a slice of the breakfast quiche in front of them both, along with silverware and napkins. They both looked at her to see whom she was referring to. She looked at Chris waiting for a response. Jerrid folded his paper and set it on the chair beside him. He grabbed the quiche with his hand like a piece of pizza and finished it in three bites.

“Oh, I have to go talk to Glen O’Hare. Soon actually.”

“About what?” Jerrid asked through a mouthful of egg and crust.

“Oh, didn’t you hear? I’m thinking about becoming one of Forest Hills’ finest, Glen’s going to show me the ropes. I think I might even get a badge today.”
Mama chuckled and took Jerrid’s plate to get him another helping. Jerrid finished chewing his food, “Are you being a smart ass?”

“Yes.”
They both dropped the subject and Mama came to sit with them.

Chapter 8: Jerrid's story

...Jerrid thrust a shot in front of each of them. “Drink.”

“Oh, Jerrid. I really don’t want—“

Jerrid downed his shot in one gulp, “You heard me.”

The rest of them took their shots and left the glasses on the table. Chris could feel his stomach bile and Whiskey re-creating the civil war in his belly.

“So,” said Jerrid looking over at the pool table. “I guess you won. Too bad I didn’t see it, so it doesn’t count.”

Chris felt annoyed. “You were too busy crying like a baby behind Katrina. But I’ll happily kick your ass again if you want.” Chris was smiling until Jerrid stepped up to him, their chests almost touching. “--At pool I meant.”

“I thought so.” Jerrid smiled and backed down. “No, it’s not worth my time.”

“So we have a deal then?”

“We’ll see.” Jerrid walked over to grab his drink from beside Gregory.

The haggard waitress that Jerrid called ‘Darlin’’ came over and grabbed her empty drink tray, giving Jerrid a dirty look. “You said you’d bring this right back.”

“Sorry, guess I lied. I wanted to make you come get it.” He winked at her and she smiled back at him and walked away. They all moved to a table in the middle of the room.

“So kid,” Gregory turned to Chris. The bar was almost full now and the music was a lot louder. “Why you writin’ an article about the infection? What kinda things you wanna know?”

“Everything: how it started and what it was like; how people dealt with it; what the town was like living in while it was happening. Just everything.”

“Well, let me tell you: nothing you write will portray what it was like living during that time. It was like living in Hell. Family members were killed, or transformed. You don’t know what it’s like to see a family member chase after you wanting to eat you, or seeing babies and toddlers with blood dripping from their lips after they’ve just fed on their household pet. Could you imagine having to kill your own child, or someone else’s?”

“No, I couldn’t. But neither can the rest of America, and they don’t even know it can happen. That’s why I want to write this article.”

“And how do you think that you can get this article out when the rest of the people that have tried couldn’t?”

“I don’t know that it won’t get killed like the rest, but once I tell my boss about this, he has to publish it. He just has to,” Chris said reassuring himself more than Gregory.

Jerrid turned his chair towards the bar and rested his ankle on his knee while he lit a cigarette. “I don’t think you know what you’ve gotten yourself into kid.”

“You make it sound like there’s still infected people running around out there.”

“There is,” Gregory said.

“What?”

Gregory shook his head as if to erase what he just said, “I mean they’re not all gone yet. Every once and awhile we’ll come across a decomposing body with the eyes sucked out, or a limb that’s been torn off and the flesh chewed all around it. That means there’s still some out there.“

“We got a live one the other week; not from around here—-as far as I could tell--and we thought that he was our last problem. But another body turned up after him. Look, don’t tell anyone. We have it under control and we’re pretty sure there’s only one running around. We’ll get him.” Jerrid inhaled and winked at a different waitress.

Chris’ heart rate rose and Gregory could see it on his face. “Don’t worry kid. No one’s going to get you.”

Katrina leaned over the table, “So, the blood on your shirt today Jerrid, that was—“

“A bird. I told you that.”

“Just checking.” Katrina lit her cigarette.

“So Gregory, how do you guys work your watches? Or how did you? You couldn’t both have stayed up all night and all day.”

“No, we had a lot more watchmen during the peak of the infection; we had recruiting sessions like an army and even practice during the day. But, too many of the watchmen were being killed or getting infected, so we decided that we would take care of the whole thing alone, that way we wouldn’t have any more unnecessary blood on our hands. I would do nights and Jerrid would do days and we’d trade sometimes. Whenever we needed a break, Clint-- Katrina’s uncle—would come help sometimes too.”

“So what made you guys so immortal?”

“Nothing, we’re just that good.” Jerrid said. Everyone laughed.

“Jerrid, can I ask what happened to your neck? Where you got that scar?”

Jerrid tamped out his cigarette and took a long sip of his drink. He didn’t acknowledge the question and Chris didn’t want to ask again. He looked at Katrina for an answer. “He doesn’t tell everyone that story.” Katrina comforted him.

“It’s Okay kid,” Jerrid started, “I was about fourteen and went camping up in Northwest US with my parents and brother. We had been there about three days and there were bear warnings all over. My family had always been avid campers; we knew what kind of precautions we had to take. Plus, we had been in bear country many times. After the third day, we had all gone to bed, my brother woke-up and had to go to the bathroom. My dad got up to take him. Jeff insisted on going deeper into the woods so my dad couldn’t see him. Seconds later he started screaming. It was a scream I had never heard before—and never want to again.
“My mother and I heard it from the tent. She grabbed the shotgun my dad left and we went running towards them. My dad was running towards us with Jeff in his arms. Jeff’s leg had a massive chunk taken out of his thigh. My mother dropped the gun and ran over to him. She was screaming, ‘what happened? What happened?’ My dad had trouble answering. He would repeat himself, ‘A bear. I think it was a bear.’
“Jeff had passed out by then and they laid him on the ground, trying to figure out what to do. My dad yelled at me to get the car. I ran. The truck was parked out on the main road--over a hundred yards away. My dad always left the keys in the ignition, but since this was a new spot, he hid them under the steering wheel; it took me awhile to find them. I drove as close as I could get and when the lights shone on the campground, I could only see blood and flesh strewn around the place. I couldn’t hear my mom or see my brother. When I looked closer, the flashlight was on the ground pointed at my dad who was lying on his back and had his arm stretched out reaching for the shotgun about four feet away. I wondered why he didn’t get up to grab it, but when I got closer I saw my dad’s right leg had been ripped—or chewed--off above the knee. He was obviously in some kind of shock or something. I grabbed the flashlight and that’s when I saw my mother’s body underneath the bear. She was already dead.” Jerrid stopped a moment and took a mouthful of rum and Coke.

“The weird thing was, the bear’s fur was brown but it was patchy; pieces of it missing and the skin showing through was all infected, like mange on a dog--but worse—not as scabbed, more raw. I ran over to grab the gun, as I got closer to my dad, the bear was distracted by the light from my flashlight. My dad screamed at it to leave me alone, it jumped at me anyways. I got the gun cocked and shot him, but on his way down, one of his nails—which was broken and infected—caught my neck.”

“How did you survive when you were so far out in the woods?” Chris asked.

“I got to the truck where he had a VHF and called for help. My dad died in my arms before help got there. I woke-up in a hospital with news reporters and people trying to put me into foster parent programs. They tested the bear for its infections. All tests came back negative for anything and only my neck had a severe infection. I was in the hospital for over a month."

“Did you go to a foster home?”

“A couple, until I was about eighteen, then I ran away and came back here to work for Katrina’s dad.”

Chris nodded. He didn’t know what else to say. Jerrid didn’t seem to care. He turned around in his seat.

“I lost my brother too,” Chris blurted out. Jerrid looked back at him. “He was young. He got hit by a car.”

“Sorry,” Jerrid replied. He lifted his glass to cheers Chris and the others. “To good friends being the best family one can have.” They all clinked their glasses together and gulped down the last drops. Jerrid got up to get another round.

Chapter 8: At Stumps

........“She doesn’t look like she was hoping to see anyone tonight” Chris whispered to Katrina. She just about spit the drink out through her nose. The waitress glared at her While she pressed her breast against Jerrid’s arm. He pretended not to notice.

“Hey Darlin’, How ‘bout you get us a round of shots—-whiskey—and I’ll have a rum and coke. Greg?”

“Uh, yeah I’ll have the same—-minus the round of shots.”

The waitress didn’t acknowledge Gregory’s presence. “Okay, so a round of whiskey and a rum and coke, what about y’all?” She looked between Chris and Katrina, snapping her gum between her teeth.

“Just another beer and…”

“…Gin and seven.” Katrina finished.

The girl turned on her heels, winking at Jerrid as she walked passed. He smacked her on the butt, giving her a jolt like a cattle prod.

Chris was finding it hard to believe that Jerrid was once a dedicated husband and father.

“I don’t think she likes you after last weekend Greg, you’re better off gettin’ your own drink from the bar.”

Gregory didn’t say anything and walked over to the bartender.

“So, kid, how ‘bout we play a game? I’ll rack ‘em, you break ‘em.”

“Okay.”

“You wanna put some money on it?”

“How about something better?” Jerrid and Katrina gave each other a surprised glance. “If I win, you have to stop bothering me and let me talk to you about the infection; If you win, you don’t have to tell me anything and you can continue hating me,” Jerrid laughed and slapped his knee. “Either way, I wont ask about your wife.” Jerrid stopped laughing and both him and Katrina kept their eyes on Chris. Chris knew he probably stepped over the line, but it was effective.

Jerrid put out his cigarette, grabbed the billiard triangle and walked over to the table. Chris took that as a yes.

Gregory came back with his drink, followed shortly by the waitress with their shots and drinks.

The bar was starting to get busy and the music was slowly getting louder.

They each took a shot and slammed it back. Chris and Katrina both made a funny face that Gregory and Jerrid laughed at.

“Okay then, lets get this bet started.” Chris walked over to the table.

“What bet?” Gregory asked Katrina. She explained making his massive frame shake with laughter.

Chris sunk a low-ball on the break. He shot again sinking another and another until he missed on the third shot. Jerrid caught up, tying the game. Chris sunk one of his balls by an accidental trick-shot, which passed the turn to Jerrid. Chris got to the eight ball, leaving Jerrid with only one of his balls, which he missed again.

Jerrid walked up to the table to take a sip of his drink. Chris went to take his shot and heard some murmuring wave through the bar followed by an “oh no. Don’t let her see me,” Chris quickly looked up to see Jerrid hiding his face behind his rum glass and his body behind Katrina.

That is about as efficient as a black bear hiding behind a fire hydrant in the middle of winter Chris thought. Chris called ‘corner pocket’ and took his shot, sinking the eight ball, winning the game. He turned around to see what Jerrid was hiding from.

The blonde girl from the plane had just walked in. She was stood in the doorway, her eyes locked on Jerrid. She smiled and walked towards them trying to look around Katrina at Jerrid.

“Oh No, no, no. Make her go away.” Jerrid pleaded with Katrina. Gregory just stood there and Katrina didn’t know what to do. Chris enjoyed watching such an intimidating man quivering behind a girl less than half his size.

“Hi Katrina.” Mary-Anne gave Katrina a calculated hug and smile intended to get past her to Jerrid. “I thought I would have gotten a bit of a warmer welcome than that Jerrid.” She attempted to give him a hug but he planted his pool cue firmly in front of him. “How come you haven’t called me yet?”

“Uh, I’ve been busy and I heard a rumor you weren’t coming back to Forest Hills.”

Mary-Anne waved her hand like she was shooing a fly, “Ha, who would start such a rumor.” She took a step closer to Jerrid and lowered her voice to a seductive tone “You know as well as I do that everything I have is here in this little town.” She stepped back laughing as if she just said something funny. Jerrid nodded and leaned towards Gregory.

“I think I need another shot.” He said, loud enough for everyone to hear. They both walked to the bar leaving Mary-Anne watching them, bewildered.

Katrina felt the urge to break the tension. “Mary-Anne, this is Chris; Chris, this is Mary-Anne. Her parents bought my family’s company and you’ve met her aunt Mary-Jo-- who owns the café.”

“Oh yes, good coffee. It’s nice to meet you,” Chris politely extended his hand.

“Likewise. You were on the plane sat beside Katrina weren’t you?” Chris nodded, “What brings you to Forest Hills?”

“An article. About the infection.”

“How interesting. I hope it works out for you. It was nice seeing you.” At that she turned and walked across the room.

Chris and Katrina both gave a sigh of relief. “She makes me feel un-easy and I don’t even know her. Why?”

“Because, that’s Mary-Anne. She’s a little loopy and you can feel it. Mama can’t even stand to be around her with the energy she picks up.”

“What’s the deal with her and Jerrid. Why’s he so afraid of her?”

“I don’t know for sure, but you know how she bit her sister who then infected others and it continued from there?”

“Yeah.”

“He thinks she started the whole infection.”

“But how’d she get it then?”

Katrina cleared her throat when Gregory and Jerrid walked up. Jerrid thrust a shot in front of each of them. “Drink.”

Chapter 8: Going to Stumps

8.

Dusk was starting to press on forest hills; the setting sun was playing off the buildings and trees, creating supernatural shadows. Chris commented on the eerie feeling that the pursuing darkness was giving him and Katrina laughed.

They reached Stumps in less than five minutes and were greeted at the door by a heavyset man testing the strength of a stool he was perched on. He opened the door when he saw Katrina approaching. She smiled and nodded in thanks before she walked through. Chris continued behind her but felt a hand press against his chest before he made it over the threshold.

“Identification.” The man said without looking at him, or removing his hand.

“Oh, yeah sure,” Chris pulled out his wallet and obliged the man.

“I knew you weren’t from around here,” He said, handing the card back to Chris. He waved Chris in. Chris realized the bouncer was profiling him instead of checking the legality of his attendance at the bar.

Once inside, Chris could see that the bar was named appropriately; to the left of the entrance--past the restroom--was a long burl-wood bar extending the entirety of the room. The bar stools were made out of tree stumps, this was the same for the tables, however, they were at least three feet in diameter. The inside of the building was made to look like a log cabin complete with heads of various animals and an old stove converted into a freezer for ice. On the far wall there was a hundred inch TV projecting the scene of a lake out a cabin window with jet skiers and boats passing through.

There were hardly any patrons in the bar, and the only two servers were chatting outside the kitchen; neither of them paying attention to the newcomers. Katrina didn’t know anyone in there so she lead the way over to the pool tables. After she put her purse down on top of a tall table in the corner--also carved out of a tall, skinny tree stump—she asked Chris: “You play?” Nodding towards the table.

“Uh, yeah I guess I can give a good rally.”

“Good. Will you rack ‘em?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“What do you want from the bar?”

“Just a beer, whatever’s on tap,” Chris grabbed some quarters out of his pocket to insert into the table and was happy to see the tables didn’t cost anything; they were real billiard tables.

Katrina came back and set their drinks next to her purse.

“Thanks,” Chris sipped enough beer out of the glass to keep it from spilling. “You wanna break?”

“No, you go ahead.” She unwrapped a new pack of cigarettes and lit one.

Chris sunk two solids and moved onto his next shot. He lined up the shot with his cue before he bent over to take it.

Katrina took notice to his broad shoulders and lean back muscles. She was thinking of how long it had been since she had any mutual contact with a man. She shook the thought out of her head, taking a drag on her cigarette and closing her eyes. She heard the crack of the balls hitting, followed by the sound of a ball being pocketed. She exhaled, feeling the roughness of the smoke leaving her chest and throat. She opened her eyes.

“I sunk a high ball, it’s your go.” Chris smiled and passed the pool cue to her. She assessed her best shot and continued with the cigarette still hanging out of her mouth; the smoke making her squint.

Chris took notice and asked: “Why do you smoke anyways?”

She missed and passed the cue back to Chris. “It keeps me relaxed. Despite what you may think, I actually hate it but I get nervous and jittery sometimes for no reason. This keeps me calm and relaxed when that happens.”

“Do I make you jittery and nervous?” Chris asked coyly.

Katrina rolled her eyes.

As Chris was about to shoot the eight ball for the win, he saw Jerrid and Gregory walk through the bar door. Jerrid was showered and clean, but still looked un-done and tired. He glanced around scoping out the scene when his eyes rested on Chris and Katrina. He smirked at Chris and said something to Gregory that made them both laugh. They started to walk over and Chris missed his shot, sinking the white ball and losing by default.

The two men walked over to stand beside Katrina. “Aw, kid did we make you nervous?” Gregory laughed and Katrina hit them both on the chest. They seemed about as bothered as if a housefly bumped into them.

Gregory was just as big as Jerrid, but his build was more muscular. They both could have been brothers by the way they looked the same. Gregory had darker hair and lighter eyes and let his beard grow long on purpose, where Jerrid’s was just days of overgrowth.

“No way. I just miss-judged my shot.”

“Uh-Huh.”

“He’s actually quite good, he kicked my ass there for awhile.” Katrina vouched for him.

“Well, that’s not hard to do.” Gregory nudged her.

Jerrid cleared his throat, “Anyways, Greg this is that kid I told you about that you almost shot in the forest.”

“Oh, yeah. You were right: he does look like he could be infected; the frightened little look he has on his face.” Jerrid laughed, the cigarette smoke coming out his nose.

“Ok, you guys stop it. Why can’t you just play nice? He’s with me, he’s staying with Mama and I and we like him. Get over it.” Katrina took a step towards Chris and put her arm around his waist to show she was on his side. Chris was pleasantly surprised and wrapped his arm around her small shoulders.

A waitress in a green flannel-printed T-shirt and small brown shorts walked over to them. Her brown hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head and her make-up looked like it was put on last night before she went to bed. Chris imagined she was in her thirties, but looked about forty-five. He assumed it was from the habits one could obtain living in a small town and working in a bar.

“Hey Jerrid, I was hoping you’d come in tonight.”

“She doesn’t look like she was hoping to see anyone tonight,” Chris whispered to Katrina. She almost spit the drink out through her nose making the waitress glare at her. ...

Chapter 7 cont... GLEN

.......he was excited to see more of the town.

The gap between the buildings was too small for a car, but big enough for emergency fire escapes for each building.

“So, are all these buildings just empty? Where does everyone live?”

“They were full at one point and most people still own them, but when the infection hit, no one wanted to live by the forest anymore.”

“Since that’s where they were hiding out?”

“Yup.”

“Everyone moved into houses and buildings closer to the church whenever--” She paused looking for the right words. “—Whenever a new unit became available.”

“I see. And the people that weren’t able to move because there was no ‘availability’?”

“They got better locks.”

They made a right turn into an alleyway behind the Doctor’s office. The building across the alley was brick like everything else in the town. Instead of glass for windows, there were filled with bricks and the back door was reinforced steel. Chris rapped his knuckles on it just to check.

“That’s the morgue and crematorium.” Katrina said.

“Seems the Doctor doesn’t want anyone to get in.”

“Or out rather.”

Chris left it at that. They took a left through another small walkway and ended up on Roseberry Street where they took another left on the sidewalk.

“All these buildings are occupied it looks like. What makes this street different than the one back there? It’s just as close to the forest!”

“I don’t know. They only thing I can think is that this road has more businesses. And a police station.”

Katrina was right: there was a soda fountain and pharmacy, a small furniture store, a bank, a hair salon and hardware store. This street was more welcoming with trees lining it’s sidewalks and people sitting in chairs outside of the buildings; even if they were mostly elderly people.

As they passed the small police station, a stalky kid with glasses, in an officer’s uniform came running out. He had spikey blonde hair and small, evenly placed facial features.

“Katrina, hey.”

“Hey Glen.” He response was less enthusiastic.

Katrina saw this moment coming and she wasn’t overly keen to talk to her ex-boyfriend of two years; not while Chris was around anyways. She knew Glen was still in love with her, she had gotten letters from him while she was in Colorado and while they were relatively innocent, they were always ended with “I can’t wait until your pretty face gets out of there and comes home. Love always, Glen.” It was as if she had gone to jail. Katrina knew she’d always have a soft spot for him, but knew it would calcify soon enough. Glen wasn’t good for her anymore; they had nothing in common. She was infected, he wasn’t. He always talked about having a big family; she couldn’t bear children. She stopped and mumbled under her breath to Chris “Sorry.”

Chris shrugged; he didn’t know what Katrina was apologizing for.

Glen gave Katrina a hug that lifted her off her feet with her hands still by her side. “I thought I would have gotten to see you sooner. You’ve been here for two days now.” He put her down and stepped back to look her up and down.

“Well, I just got here yesterday—“

“And you must be the journalist guy.” Glen stuck out his hand “Nice to meet-cha!”

Chris obliged and commented “word travels a little too fast around here.”

“Pardon?”

“Chris. Nice to meet you too. There’s so many nice people around here.”

Glen smiled and turned to Katrina, “So I was thinking, maybe when you’re not busy we could go for lunch, or ice cream? My treat.” His face was beaming at Katrina and Chris immediately understood what Glen’s intentions were.

“Oh, um that’s very nice of you but—“she glanced over at Chris who shook his head to say: don’t look at me. “I’m going to be pretty busy as long as Chris is here. I’m helping him with his interview stuff.”

Glen looked disappointed and Chris felt bad. “I’m sure you can take some time if you like to have some ice cream of all things with Glen. Don’t let me take up all your time.” He smiled at Katrina who looked at him in disbelief. Glen looked like his parents just told him he could have a puppy. “But on one stipulation: I can come by and talk to you tomorrow sometime at the station?”

“Sure, my shift starts at seven in the morning and I get off at four, come around anytime. And then Katrina, you can let me know about that date.” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice a little. Katrina noticed his breath smelled like bubble gum. “I can take a break pretty much anytime I want, and they give me a free ice cream over at the soda fountain. Can probably get yours free too—but if not I’ll pay of course.”

Chris rolled his eyes and Katrina began to regret losing her virginity to him. “Such a gentleman.” She replied sarcastically.

“You know me. Anyways, it was nice meeting you Chris. And I’ll talk to you two later.” He beamed at them and pushed his glasses higher on his nose with his middle knuckle.

Glen walked across the street towards the Soda Fountain. Chris rolled his eyes but smiled at Katrina. “Sounds like someone has a crush on you.”

“Ugh, don’t get me started, and you didn’t help.” They continued walking again.

Chapter 7, leaving the Dr. office

7.

Outside, Chris was sitting with his back against the hot brick wall going over his notes, trying not to look at the picture of the little girls arm. He assumed that the Doctor wanted to talk to Katrina about her ‘condition’ so he wasn’t curious as to why she was being held back.

“Catch a cold?” The familiar voice hammered Chris on the head like the barrel of the rifle the man was carrying. Jerrid? He’s everywhere. He took a deep breath before looking up at the gargantuan man. Ugh. He was dressed in his camouflage, dirty from a day’s work. The rifle butt was peaking out over his right shoulder.

Chris jumped up to his feet and brushed off his butt. “No actually.” He waved his Moleskin at Jerrid. “I was just talking to the Doctor.”

“I see.” And before Chris knew it the journal was out of his hand and in Jerrid’s. He started to flip it open when Chris made a grab for it. Chris knew Jerrid wouldn’t let him have it back; it was the gesture to show Jerrid he wasn’t welcome. Jerrid spun on his heels so his back was to Chris.

“Not much in here kid. What kind of writing is this anyway? Some kind of short hand?”

“No, I just can’t write fast enough. Give it back.”

Jerrid dangled it above Chris’ head like a bully and the picture fell out. Jerrid bent down to pick it up. He unfolded it and glared at it, turning it around in his hands. He made a funny face and looked up a Chris. “Is that the Dawes’ girl’s arm?” He handed the journal back to Chris, still holding on to the picture.

“Yes.”

“I never did get a good look at the real thing, but that’s just as nasty as the Doc said! Poor girl.” He folded the picture up and gave it back to Chris who stuck it back in the Moleskin and pulled the elastic around it.

“Jerrid, hey.” Katrina was coming through the door shielding the sun with her hand.

“Hey kid.” Jerrid reached in his pocket and pulled out an extra pair of sunglasses and tossed them to Katrina. “Catch. Where are yours?”

“I always forget. Never used them before, you know.”

Jerrid nodded. “Just give ‘em back to me later tonight at Stumps. You’re going right?”

“We’re thinking about it.”

“I was only asking if you were going.” Jerrid threw daggers at Chris with his eyes.

“Jerrid!” Katrina glared at him. She knew that Jerrid was joking for the most part, but she could feel that Chris was uncomfortable.

Jerrid threw his hands up in the air to surrender.

“What’s on your shirt? Is that blood?” She leaned in to inspect it. She was always fascinated with the watch-keeper’s job and at one point wanted to join Jerrid before she left Forest hills. He wouldn’t let her.

Jerrid examined the stain on his chest. “Me and Greg were just having a little shot practice. Few birds is all.”

Katrina didn’t believe him for a minute, but there wasn’t enough blood to assume they were successfully patrolling for zombies. Chris on the other hand, hadn’t noticed the blood in the beginning and didn’t care who’s or what it was, just the fact that there was more than a paper-cut’s amount and it was still relatively fresh was enough to give him the shivers.

“Where are you kids headed?”

“I think we’re just going to go back to Mama’s. The long way, I wanna show Chris a bit of the town.” She watched Jerrid’s face for a reaction. “When’s the last time you seen her anyways?” Katrina waved her finger in his face.

“When’s the last time I was in that building Katrina?”

“Fair enough, but you need to go see her on her territory.”

“I know. I’ve seen her around town of course, but I’ll try tomorrow maybe. I would appreciate if you guys could try and stay out of the forest from now on. You should know better Katrina.”

Before Chris could respond Katrina opened her mouth. “I know, sorry Jerrid, I should have told Chris. I didn’t. He knows now.”

Chris put his hands on his hips and nodded. “Sorry.”

“Okay.” He glanced over at Chris. “I have enough to deal with already. Gregory was ready to shoot your ass. You’re lucky we’ve met and I recognized you!” Jerrid was now the one waving his finger in Chris’ face.

Chris wasn’t so sure about that. “Yes sir,” Was the appropriate response.

“Okay then. Maybe we’ll see you at Stumps.”

“Yeah. I might show up a bit later. I’m just going to give the forest a once over before I come.”

“Right. See you then, maybe. If not, tomorrow at Mama’s.” Katrina winked at him.

Chris started to take a few steps towards Mama’s to show he was more than ready to leave. Katrina obediently followed and waved at Jerrid who was already walking away but raised his hand towards her without looking. “Here, we’re going to go this way—“ She pointed at a small gap between the Doctor’s office and the next building. Chris didn’t know where she was taking him, but he didn’t care; he was excited to see more of the town.

Chapter 6 continued still... Finishing talking to the DR.

“How come it lasted so long? Why wasn’t it nipped in the bud?”

“Well, there were different stages of the infection. As I told you, Mary-Anne didn’t know she was infected, but she gave the infection to Jennifer-Dawn whos body metabolized the infection completely, but not for a few weeks. If she infected anyone else—which she did—their time before they turned varied on each individual. But, the ones that were out feeding on people were the ones that were passing the infection quickly. Katrina, you told him about the café?”

She nodded. “As much as he needed to know, but he’s going to speak with Mary-Jo and Gary day after tomorrow.”

“Okay good. Well, that’s a case of quick transformation. If everyone turned as quickly as they did in the café, then maybe, yes we could have controlled it better because everyone would be visibly infected all at once.” The Doctor nodded as if to end his speech.

“Okay, next question: What was the hardest part of this for you personally?”

“That’s a rhetorical question Christopher.” Chris wished he would stop calling him that. “I had to deal with people dying all around me and you might understand that me, being a Doctor, it is my profession and passion to help people and do everything in my power to keep them alive. Not only was I not helping them, I was practically killing them with my hands.” He looked over at a picture he had on the corner of his desk by Katrina. He picked it up as gently as you’d lift a dying flower. “This was my daughter Karen. She was the same age as Jennifer-dawn. Jennifer-Dawn infected her and a few others at school and Karen died shortly after Jennifer-Dawn.”

“I’m sorry.” Chris could tell the Doctor was upset and would most likely not want to talk about this anymore but he had one more question: “If you don’t mind me asking: what do you do with the bodies?”

Doctor Stevensen’s head shot up at Chris as if he forgot there were people in his office. Chris jumped a little. “Oh, Um, I have a morgue in the building behind this one, where we burned the bodies. That was safest because of the infection. Do you mind if we end this now? I’m a very busy man as I’m the only Doctor in town.”

As if Chris had a choice: before he knew it, Doctor Stevensen was behind him opening the door.

“Oh, okay, well thank you for your time Doctor. I’m sorry if I caused you any grief. “

The Doctor shook his head at the ground. “No, it’s fine.”

“Ya’ll have a great day.” Lucy said with a smile. “Oh, I forgot: Katrina, are you and your friend comin’ to the party tonight at Stumps? They’re havin’ a big welcome back for y’all that were gone for so long.”

Katrina wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t heard about this. “I don’t know maybe. Who’s going?” As if that matters she thought.

“Oh, I think like most of the town. I know a lot of people said they’d come but you know how people are funny around here. But I’ll be there.” She directed the last part to Chris.

“Um, maybe. We’ll see what we’re up to. Maybe we’ll see ya.”

“That would be great!” She smiled.

Chris waved and was half-way out the door when Doctor Stevensen called: “Uh, Katrina can I speak with you a minute?”

Chris could see the Doctor’s eyes directing him out the door. “I’ll meet you outside.” he said to Katrina as he shut the door behind him.

Katrina waited until the door clicked in place. “Yes Doctor?”

“I just wanted to see how your treatment went in Colorado? I assume you’re not cured?”

“No, it’s not cured. It’s the same but it’s being kept under control. I take a shot everyday twice a day. I can’t infect anyone else, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.” He smiled at her. “And did you bring the extra back for…you know.”

“Yes of course! Plus I have to go back in two years for my check-up, I’ll get more then.”

“Great, that’s amazing. Let me know how it goes!”

“I will, of course.”

The Doctor gave Katrina a proper hug as they said their good-byes. Katrina waved at Lucy on her way out.

ending chapter 6 (part 1): the doctor's office.

......Luckily Chris was already holding onto his notebook.

They got out of the apartment and heard the lock click into place. Chris glanced to his left down the long dark hallway. There was a long, dust wooden railing on the right side of the hall which, if anyone had tripped just a little they would probably tumble over the side, landing on the switchback of stairs. At the end was a lilac colored door. Chris knew that Jerrid’s wife must have picked that color and he felt a wave of sadness for Jerrid sweep through his body.

Katrina lead the way down the steps and out onto the street. She made a swift right turn out of the building and walked towards the forest. “So how do you like this place so far?” She knew that Chris had barely seen any of the town but she just wanted to make small talk.

“Um, it’s hard to tell. It’s a cute little town. Seems like a good place to grow up. Especially if you had friends to go exploring with…or siblings.” He hadn’t forgotten about the birth announcement he found.

“Mmmm.” Katrina took off her thin jacket revealing her small figure. There was not much fat on her body at all Chris noticed, giving her the once over from behind. He admired the softness and even tone of her skin.

“The sun is definitely up!” He said glancing up at the sky shading his eyes with his hand. It was becoming extremely hot and muggy outside. “Glad I wore a T-shirt.”

Katrina didn’t acknowledge him. “We’re almost there. It’s just on the corner there by the forest.” She continued leading the way down the large sidewalk. The passing buildings all seemed unoccupied. If they weren't, someone was doing a poor job of keeping them clean; the cream colored brick was streaked with dark lines of dirt reaching the ground.

Chris hadn’t even noticed that any of the buildings were occupied when he drove by earlier. Now he saw the unmistakable Red Cross next to old ‘Stevenson Family Practice. Est. 1925.’ painted above the door. “So, tell me a little about the Doctor so I can be prepared.”

“Lets see. His father and father’s father were Doctors in this office. He prides himself in his work and has been trying to develop a cure for the infection in his spare time. He loves this town and the town loves him. He’s very warm-hearted and truly cares about the well-being of the town’s people. We don’t have a shrink here but he’ll gladly talk to people about their problems-- especially after the infection hit. OH, and he’s also the mortician, there’s a crematorium in the building next door to his. Just be polite and respectful. ”

“Okay. Good.” They were on the doorstep of the office and Katrina put a hand on Chris’ back to guide him through first. Chris took a minute to look at the brick building. The windowsills on each side of the door were wood, painted the same red as the lettering for the name. The blinds were closed so it would be easy for anyone not familiar with the building to think it was closed—or drive right past.

The door lead into the middle of a square waiting room painted a plain eggshell color. The reception desk was planted straight ahead guarding another closed door, which Chris assumed lead to the doctor and his patients.

“Why hello, how can we help you today?” The receptionist was a perky blonde and looked about twenty-two. Her breasts were bubbling over the rim of her pink shirt like a glass of soda that had been filled too high. In a last-ditch attempt to make her outfit business-casual, she threw a pink unbuttoned cardigan over her shoulders. Chris was immediately attracted to her.

“Umm, well, you see…”

Katrina came around from behind Chris to give him a hand. The receptionist recognized Katrina immediately. “Katrina! You’re back. Everyone said you were in Forest Hills, but I didn’t believe them.” Her smile stayed glued in the same position as she came around from behind the desk to give Katrina a hug.

“Lucy. Good to see you.” Katrina had gone to school with the girl. She was much more popular than Katrina but that didn’t seem to affect her ego. Katrina liked her positive attitude and willingness to get to know everyone no matter how ’cool’ they were. She was a good fit for Dr. Stevesen’s office—even if her clothes weren’t. Katrina elbowed Chris to give him one more shot at presenting himself. “This is my friend Chris. He’s from New York.”

“New ‘Yolk’?” Lucy let out a little gasp “I’ve Always wanted to gaw there!”

“Oh, well. You should.” Chris glanced at Katrina then back at Lucy’s full chest. He quickly corrected his gaze to her teeth and continued: “Well, I’m originally from Virginia, but—um, is the Doctor in?” Chris’ mouth was dry and he really hoped the doctor could see him soon.

“Oh.” Lucy bounced back to the desk and tapped her pencil on the appointment book. “Well, he has one person waiting” She pointed the pencil to a woman sitting in the corner trying to look out the window—regardless if the blinds were shut. “but she should go back in a jiff. Can ya’ll wait?”

“Yeah we’ll wait.” Katrina replied for Chris.

“Great. I’ll tell him you’re here. Oh, can you just fill out this form for me?” Lucy pushed a clipboard with an information sheet towards Chris.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. I’m just here to interview him.”

Lucy’s smile faded a little. “I see. I’ll let him know. Have a seat.” She flashed her teeth at Chris and went through the door behind the desk.

Chris and Katrina went across the room from the waiting woman, next to the coffee table. “ Thanks for coming with me.” Chris wanted Katrina to know that he appreciated and welcomed her presence.

“Don’t mention it. It’s kind of interesting for me to watch.”

“Watch what? Me struggle?”

Katrina laughed, “Well it was interesting watching you try and tear your eyes from Lucy’s bundles of joy. But no, that’s not what I meant.” She was looking right into Chris’ eyes.

“One of your eyes is half green, half brown.” Katrina had a weird feeling take over her emotions. She had felt it before, but didn’t recognize it. Her heart beat a little faster and then she realized she was trying to get Chris’ attention.

“I do? Really? Maybe I should talk to the Dr. after all! Where’d that form go.” Chris smiled to portray his sarcasm.

Katrina smacked him on the arm and looked down to hide her face—now a darker shade of pink. “It’s neat, that’s all.” Katrina smiled and picked up a magazine off the table. ‘National Geographic’; typical Doctor’s office magazine. She looked at the date: March. Only four months behind. Not bad. She flicked through the magazine, looking for the cover story about Wolves. They were her favorite animal regardless if she had never seen one.

Chris looked at her just a moment longer before opening his notebook to jot down a few questions for the doctor. He liked how she was unconcerned that her hair was coming undone, letting little wisps of hair out, sticking to the thin sheen of heat-induced sweat on her neck. He quickly looked away because he felt he shouldn’t be concerning himself with such things.

Lucy came bouncing through the door over to Chris. She bent over to talk to him in a whisper. “Um, sorry Chris but Dr. Stevensen would like to know what business you would like to discuss with him.”

Chris took extra effort not to look at the crease of bosom that had just been thrust in front of his face. Katrina laughed through her nose. “Yeah, sure. I’m here trying to get information about the infection.” Chris said in an equally quiet voice.

“Oh. ‘Kay.” Lucy bounced up and went through the door again.

Katrina and Chris looked at each other with raised eyebrows. They both laughed.

Chapters are getting longer. We're still in 6.

.......“That’s precisely what it is chicken.”

“Would you tell me about it?”

“Sure. Are you going to use this in your story?”

“Yes, probably.”

Mama stared at him for a moment. “Don’t journalists usually have a notepad or something?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Chris got up feeling his face turn red and ran into his bedroom to grab the moleskin out of his backpack. He grabbed a pen off the desk on his way out.

Katrina was becoming more comfortable with Chris and what he was trying to accomplish in Forest Hills. In the beginning she wanted to avoid talking about things that happened to other people; now she just sat back in her chair to listen to Mama tell her story. Katrina had never heard the details of this encounter, only the need to know facts from her parents.

Once Chris was settled and Mama felt his pen was perched high enough she began: “ I assume you know that I once had neighbors.” Chris nodded. “ Well, one night I was home just reading or baking, or was I painting? No, I was definitely reading.” She swatted the air in front of her face as if to shoo an invisible fly. “Anyways, I heard some commotion in the stairwell so I looked through the peephole to get a better look and it was Jane, my neighbor. She was screaming and chicken, the look on her face...She was terrified. She was being chased. She banged on my door—because it’s the closest from the stairwell—I opened it without taking the chain off and saw that her hands were covered in blood, she had scratches all over her neck and shoulders.” Mama stopped for a moment. It looked like she was going to start to cry, but she was only collecting her thoughts. “I couldn’t let her in, the poor baby, I just couldn’t—for my own safety. I told her ‘I’m sorry baby. Please forgive me. God bless.’ And I shut the door. I moved the vanity in front of the door and made my way towards the emergency roof escape. I heard her scream all the way to her apartment down the hall while running footsteps followed her.”

Chris jotted down random points of Mama’s story that he thought would be crucial to putting the story back together on paper. He didn’t ask any questions because he just wanted to listen to Mama. She had such a soothing voice and manner. It went straight to the heart and filled your whole body as if you were being wrapped in a down comforter from the inside. Without wanting the soup to go cold, everyone took random bites in between pauses in the story.

“She managed to get into her apartment and shut out the infected. But she was now infected and she turned almost immediately after she entered the apartment. I heard a commotion next door followed by one gunshot, then another and another for three in total. She attacked her two children before her husband could make it into the living room with the gun. I think that’s the day that Jerrid lost a part of his soul with his family, but he had no choice. It’s all about self-preservation.”

“You mean Jerrid was your next-door neighbor?”

“Yes chicken. He was such a good kid until that day but after that he became a man. He made it his mission to rid Forest Hills of the infected ones killing all of our loved ones. Don’t get me wrong; he is still a wonderful person, but it’s deep down inside him and only bits of sunshine glimmer out of his eyes sometimes.”

“They didn’t want you? I mean they couldn’t smell you or something?” Chris asked.

“Oh, they probably could have, but once they hone in on their ‘prey’ its pretty much tunnel vision. Besides, Jerrid killed anyo—anything that was in that corridor.”

“And no one has been back in that apartment since?”

“No.” Mama shook her head and took a small bite of bread. “Jerrid removed the bodies and cleaned the place out. No one’s been back but I’m sure in a few months or years I will have neighbors again.”

“So, how do you know that people weren’t murdering other people out of cold blood and saying that they were infected?”

Katrina who had been impartial to the conversation raised her eyebrows at Mama. This question impressed her in a sense. No one had thought to ask that—out loud at least.

“Well, I suppose that would have been possible for the ones that were infected by only a scratch or so. I guess you just have to have faith in the people that you share a town with. I would never think that anyone in Forest Hills would do something like that.”

Chris nodded in satisfaction.

“Well…” Katrina smacked her legs and stood up, pushing the chair out with her calves. “Are we ready to go?”

“Yes, you children go and I’ll take care of these dishes!” Mama exclaimed.

“Are you sure? I can help clean—“ Chris was brought up to always offer a hand in the home he was visiting.

“Go, go gooo.” Mama shooed them out the door, barely giving Katrina a chance to grab her purse off the kitchen counter. Luckily Chris was already holding onto his notebook.

End of Chapter 5, Beginning of 6!!!!-- and I finally found the buttons to adjust the text!

........He took pictures so he could ask Katrina about it when he got back.

Around back there was more of the property scattered with bushes and trees that looked in as bad of shape as the house. The foundation of the cabin was surrounded by dead rose bushes—no roses, all thorns. Peaking out of the corner behind one bush was a broken window to the basement, only partially covered from the inside.

Chris tapped the wooden fence post in front of him to make sure there was no charge being conducted through the wood. Once he was satisfied that he wasn’t about to be a six foot two barbeque, he braced himself on the post to lean in and get a better look. He took his camera back out of his pocket and zoomed in to take a better picture. When he looked at the digital screen he was startled when a pair of small eyes were looking back at him through the bottom of the window. He dropped the camera just as he took the picture and it hit the carpet of leaves with a thud. Looking back at the window there was nothing there but pieces of glass. Chris took a step back and lowered himself to the ground and stretched his hand underneath the fence where his camera had bounced. He was able to reach the wrist strap and pull the camera towards him. The leaves were so matted down, the camera slid right along the surface. He quickly looked at the picture on the camera: there was nothing in the window. He convinced himself it was just the light playing off the shards of glass in the windowsill.

In the back, far corner of the cabin was a silo—or at least it looked like it could have been. It was a tall cylindrical building made out of wood with a flat top and covered in vines. At about twenty feet tall and fifteen feet in diameter, Chris had never seen a silo like this; it looked like the top half had been removed. It reminded Chris of an eighteenth century insane asylum hidden in the woods of Virginia. Chris’ father used to tell him and his brother: “it was used to house the people that were just too crazy to be in the hospital”. The brothers were so curious to see the inside that they would go there often to try and catch a glimpse of the inside, but they were always stopped by barbed wire wrapped tightly and haphazardly around the base, the doors and windows were boarded, but more of a deterrent than the wire and boarding were signs nailed all around that read: ‘Fines up to $50,000 and possible jail time to those who are caught trespassing’. Chris and his brother talked endlessly about pulling and prying their way through the wire to get inside and climb the spiraling staircase to the top where the only windows were. They imagined what the inside looked like; lobotomy tools left lying around, random splotches of un-cleaned blood and bone shards on the walls—for no reason at all—but when they thought of what their father would say when they got caught and fined, or worse: put in jail, their thought immediately dissipated into thin air.

This silo wasn’t boarded up at all and seemed to be in better condition than the house. Chris’ nerves had enough and he got all the pictures he needed; since he didn’t even know if this farm would have any potential for his story. It was time to go.

The digital clock on his dashboard told him that a little less than an hour had past; Katrina should be back at Mama’s any minute now. On his way back through the forest, he saw a man crouched down behind a tree. His heart jumped until he recognized the scruffy beard and furrowed brow. Ugh, Jerrid Chris thought. Must be out on the prowl for Zombies. Maybe he should get a real job. He was with another man that was about the same size and stature as Jerrid. He was crouched too, both staring at the car as it drove by. Chris knew he’d be grilled about his presence in the forest next time he ran in to Jerrid but for now Chris just waved at the men and kept driving.

6.

Mama’s apartment was empty when Chris let himself in. After searching the cupboards for a glass, he filled it with tap water and walked in to the living area. He was drawn to the fireplace where Mama had a few nick-knacks and small, framed pictures. Most of them were of what Chris assumed were Katrina’s parents, aunts and uncles. On the left corner of the self, squished between two stones were about eight dusty old books: classics like ‘White Fang’, ‘Robin Hood’, some Leo Tolstoy’s and Jane Austin, but what caught his eye was a photo album in between. The spine was almost the same worn brown canvas as the other books so it blended well, but up close and with no title it stuck out like a sore thumb.

Chris pulled it out and blew the dust off the top. He set down his water on the table and sat in one of the chairs, resting the album on his lap. The book was old and had been thumbed through many times; the photo sleeves were starting to rip at the seams and the pages were coming out. He very gently turned each page looking at the short photographic history of Katrina when she was no older than six years old. She looked so much happier when she was young and free. Her skin was golden from the times playing outdoors and her hair was either pulled back with a ribbon tied into a bow, or flowing over her shoulders in sun-streaked ringlets.

Her parents were well kept and nicely dressed. Katrina’s dad was easy to spot; he looked so similar to Katrina: they had same facial structure and chin dimple—something you always get from your father. He was a lot slimmer and taller than Chris had imagined. He was always pictured with a cigar; if it wasn’t in his mouth, it was in his hand. Katrina’s mother was always in the background watching Katrina and She always kept her hands busy with glass of iced-tea or a cigarette. Her choice of clothing was either a floral printed dress or a pair of slacks and loose fitting silk blouse. It was hard to see her resemblance to Katrina because she always wore large sunglasses. The few photos of Mama were of her playing with Katrina and another girl about the same age as Katrina. This other little girl caught Chris off guard: she looked identical to Katrina. They could have been twins, but Katrina never mentioned a sister. Chris pulled out a picture that had the little girl sitting on a man’s lap. The man had the same look as Katrina’s father but looked slightly more worn and alot stronger. On the back of the photo had the names ‘Clint’ and ‘Emily’ written on it. The little girl was Katrina’s cousin.

They look so happy Chris thought. He imagined them all playing in the massive yard in the photos; Mama bringing them iced-teas and the parents laughing while the girls ran through the sprinkler.

Once Chris had flipped through all the pages of the photo album, he reached over the armchair to put it back between the books on the shelf. His reach wasn’t long enough and the book fell to the ground landing on its spine. It opened up to the middle of the album. “Shit.” Chris bent down and noticed a folded piece of paper emerging from the back cover. He slowly picked up the book and turned to the back. The last page had been glued to the back creating a small pocket. He carefully pulled the paper out. It was an article from The Lexington Times:

Katrina Marie Jones and Emily Leah Jones

Fraternal twin girls born November 12, 1988

To the founders and owners of The Forest Hills

Logging Company.

Both weigh less than six pounds each and are

Expected to be in perfect health.

The family is overjoyed at these new additions as

James Jones says: “We couldn’t be more overjoyed with

Our two girls. My wife had an amazing birth and I'm so proud of her.

We just can’t wait to get them home.”

The Jones’ haven’t been available for comment since,

But the local Dr. says: “they’re all relaxing, recovering

And getting to know their new additions”.