Read Online Tails of the Apocalypse by David Adams, Nick Cole, Michael Bunker, David Bruns, E. E. Giorgi, Deirdre Gould, Jennifer Ellis, Stefan Bolz, Harlow C. Fallon, Hank Garner, Todd Barselow, Chris Pourteau - Free Book Online
Authors: David Adams, Nick Cole, Michael Bunker, David Bruns, E. E. Giorgi, Deirdre Gould, Jennifer Ellis, Stefan Bolz, Harlow C. Fallon, Hank Garner, Todd Barselow, Chris Pourteau
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food had looked like enough to last forever. But now that she knew the water could stop, the supplies no longer looked so large. They were going to need more.
That was the one lesson of the new world: you would always need more. If you weren’t busy getting it, you were busy losing it.
She’d visited enough of the nearby shops to know they’d already been looted. But there were hundreds of houses right behind the hospital. She’d been avoiding them. She knew what lay in the beds. What she’d found when the angry man on the street chased her. But she couldn’t be afraid anymore. The bodies couldn’t kill her. But fear could.
That night, Raina got her pack and her kitchen knife and walked outside. She meant to go alone, but Knife snuck out the door after her.
“Fine,” she muttered. Then her face softened to a smile. “Come on.”
Early on, she’d used snips from Target to cut a hole through the fence between the hospital and the home on the other side. She ducked through it and walked through the shaggy yard to the house’s back door. It was unlocked. She stepped into the entrance and was stopped by a wave of rotten stench. She took a step back, ready to turn and run. Knife trotted past her into the darkness. He sniffed at the kitchen table, then turned to stare at her.
“You’re much smaller than me.” Raina put her hands on her hips. “You should be afraid of everything. But that’s why you’re afraid of nothing, isn’t it? Or else you’d never stop running.”
She walked through the door. Inside, cans of food filled the cabinets. Human food: beef stew and chicken soup and cream of potato. She ate a can of stew on the spot. After weeks of dog food, the beef tasted like pure strength. She gave a bite to Knife, followed by a second. He ate in fast little jerks.
There were many houses, but less food than she thought. Much had been taken. Much had gone rotten. It would let them last longer, but not that much longer. They ate most of what they found each night, saving the dog food, which seemed made to last a long time.
She’d need more food, but what else could she do to find it? Could she teach the dogs to hunt? Some were too slow and loud, but Knife and Tough might be able to snatch crows or the rats that ran along the fence out back. It would be better than nothing.
The only other choice was to move somewhere she could grow corn they could all eat, but it would take weeks to haul the bags and cans of food anywhere. She could take one of the cars, but she didn’t like them. They made too much noise. Noise was how others found you.
So every night, she went out to scavenge. The first few nights, she only took Knife, but it was a good chance to take the others farther than they were used to. One at a time, of course—she wasn’t sure every house was unoccupied. Sometimes she heard a car engine or a gunshot, but these were always distant. She avoided any house with buckets on the roof for collecting water or gardens in back. There weren’t many of those.
One day, she turned on the hospital sink and nothing came out but a sputter of air. On her nightly runs, she started looking for water, too, and cans of soda for herself.
She was out with Knife and Smiles that night. Outside a Spanish house with broken windows, she turned to Smiles.
“Sit,” she said. Smiles sat. “Stay.”
She went inside with Knife, moving quickly through the cabinets. When she came back outside, Smiles was nowhere to be seen.
She moved to the corner, straining her ears for the click of claws. Noise could get you killed, but she had no other choice. Not if she wanted to see Smiles again. She whistled. Knife peered into the night, nose twitching. Raina whistled again, then jogged back past the house to the next block. She whistled a third time. Down the street, Smiles lifted his head from the bush he was snuffling.
Raina ran to grab him. “Come on, stupid. Time to go home.”
She went back to the house for her wagon
That was the one lesson of the new world: you would always need more. If you weren’t busy getting it, you were busy losing it.
She’d visited enough of the nearby shops to know they’d already been looted. But there were hundreds of houses right behind the hospital. She’d been avoiding them. She knew what lay in the beds. What she’d found when the angry man on the street chased her. But she couldn’t be afraid anymore. The bodies couldn’t kill her. But fear could.
That night, Raina got her pack and her kitchen knife and walked outside. She meant to go alone, but Knife snuck out the door after her.
“Fine,” she muttered. Then her face softened to a smile. “Come on.”
Early on, she’d used snips from Target to cut a hole through the fence between the hospital and the home on the other side. She ducked through it and walked through the shaggy yard to the house’s back door. It was unlocked. She stepped into the entrance and was stopped by a wave of rotten stench. She took a step back, ready to turn and run. Knife trotted past her into the darkness. He sniffed at the kitchen table, then turned to stare at her.
“You’re much smaller than me.” Raina put her hands on her hips. “You should be afraid of everything. But that’s why you’re afraid of nothing, isn’t it? Or else you’d never stop running.”
She walked through the door. Inside, cans of food filled the cabinets. Human food: beef stew and chicken soup and cream of potato. She ate a can of stew on the spot. After weeks of dog food, the beef tasted like pure strength. She gave a bite to Knife, followed by a second. He ate in fast little jerks.
There were many houses, but less food than she thought. Much had been taken. Much had gone rotten. It would let them last longer, but not that much longer. They ate most of what they found each night, saving the dog food, which seemed made to last a long time.
She’d need more food, but what else could she do to find it? Could she teach the dogs to hunt? Some were too slow and loud, but Knife and Tough might be able to snatch crows or the rats that ran along the fence out back. It would be better than nothing.
The only other choice was to move somewhere she could grow corn they could all eat, but it would take weeks to haul the bags and cans of food anywhere. She could take one of the cars, but she didn’t like them. They made too much noise. Noise was how others found you.
So every night, she went out to scavenge. The first few nights, she only took Knife, but it was a good chance to take the others farther than they were used to. One at a time, of course—she wasn’t sure every house was unoccupied. Sometimes she heard a car engine or a gunshot, but these were always distant. She avoided any house with buckets on the roof for collecting water or gardens in back. There weren’t many of those.
One day, she turned on the hospital sink and nothing came out but a sputter of air. On her nightly runs, she started looking for water, too, and cans of soda for herself.
She was out with Knife and Smiles that night. Outside a Spanish house with broken windows, she turned to Smiles.
“Sit,” she said. Smiles sat. “Stay.”
She went inside with Knife, moving quickly through the cabinets. When she came back outside, Smiles was nowhere to be seen.
She moved to the corner, straining her ears for the click of claws. Noise could get you killed, but she had no other choice. Not if she wanted to see Smiles again. She whistled. Knife peered into the night, nose twitching. Raina whistled again, then jogged back past the house to the next block. She whistled a third time. Down the street, Smiles lifted his head from the bush he was snuffling.
Raina ran to grab him. “Come on, stupid. Time to go home.”
She went back to the house for her wagon
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