Chapter 1
Alone
The hot sun beat down on Riley in waves that visibly rose from the pavement. The waves of heat stretched out for an eternity. The new season was approaching fast, and even though summer was always bad in Southern California, this year was already one for the record books. She questioned whether the state of the world and the subsequent decay could be attributed to the extreme heat this early in the year. She hated the stifling heat that intensified on the asphalt, and as much as Riley wanted to get out of the sun, take a break, and sit under a shaded tree, she knew she didn't have that kind of luxury.
Taking a quick look over her shoulder, Riley Reese glanced past the broken glass and burned-out cars. She bit her bottom lip, a nervous habit she picked up when she had turned eight-years-old and had just joined Little League Baseball with her brother. Every time she would be up to bat and face that little, hardball with red stitches, she would bite down on her bottom lip, as the nerves got the best of her. Then, just like that, she would swing with all her might, and knock that ball to the outfield, either bringing in a run or scoring herself, always to loud cheers from her family on the bleachers. She sighed and turned back around to continue forward. She traveled at least ten miles that day, but unfortunately, she knew it wasn't even close to her destination.
The steady cadence of Riley's fast-paced walking sounded like her personal metronome, always providing a beat to step to. It kept her alert and made her aware of the surrounding area. It also forced her to keep up her steps to the beat she set in her head. It reminded her of a favorite old memory: hearing the metronome in the background as her mama sang in their old garage as she tossed another load of laundry in the machine.
She was five or six when they still lived in Riverside, in a small little house that always smelled of her father's cooking and clean laundry. She loved her father's cooking, and he made sure to teach her everything he could when he was in the kitchen. He could always make any meal a special one, so tasty and full of flavor, and she swore she could always taste the love he put into every dish he cooked.
The memories of her childhood crept up on Riley so quickly that she wasn't prepared for the onslaught of emotions that came with the memories. She was usually very adamant about preventing anything even resembling the past from slipping through. She had begun to realize that it was safer that way, and she had begun to comprehend that is how it needed to be if she wanted to stay safe, but for some unknown reason, she did not even attempt to stop these memories. She allowed these old childhood memories to come in and settle around her like an old, warm knitted blanket.
She was still walking at her set pace, moving around debris and cars randomly left in the lanes to rot. Steadily, she made progress towards her set destination, Lytle Creek. Even though she has her usual steadfast ways of always being ready for anything and her general need for safety, she seems to have forgotten about them around the same time she heard her mama's voice singing and smelled her favorite food that her dad would cook especially for her.
The sun relentlessly blazed down on Riley, like a spotlight set up just for her, reminding her that nothing would be easy, including the weather. Sweat formed on her forehead and dripped down the sides of her face. She stumbled as a drop of sweat rolled straight down the arch of her eyebrow and landed in her right eye, on the inside of the bridge of her nose, stinging and blurring her sight momentarily.
She stopped when she realized how far away in her head, she had allowed herself to go. She stopped in the middle of the interstate and looked around. She made a complete circle, trying to see if she missed anything when she was visiting memory lane. Unsure of just how long she had been stuck in her past, Riley decided to quicken her pace a bit and suddenly felt on high-alert. Her eyes roamed the landscape and scanned the overgrown brush for any sign of danger.
There was a smashed car in the left lane that drew Riley's attention, and when she glanced at the passenger seat, she stopped everything. Eyes blinking, she stepped closer, determined to make sure she had really seen what she thought she had. With another glance around the area, she stepped up to the car door and reached her hand inside, being careful not to get caught up in the shards of glass still sticking out. With a steady hand, she reached in and grabbed the CD case that caught her attention. In perfect condition, not a scratch was found on the case. She opened it and, to her surprise, the shiny silver of the CD caught the reflection of the sun and revealed a pristine copy of Purple Rain.
Riley let out a little sound of surprise, and she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. Riley incredibly finds her favorite CD of all time by her favorite singer ever, and she finds it in perfect condition. She gently closed the case and hugged it to her chest. She allowed herself this one moment to remember the best times in her life and knew this CD was the soundtrack to her childhood. She closed her eyes and let the songs flow over her, and she could hear the lyrics in her ears. A smile from ear to ear remained even when a tear fell past her cheek and landed on her arm.
The melodies of a piano and a soulful voice singing about "The Beautiful Ones" or a riff of a funky guitar rhythm from the start of "When Doves Cry" could always be heard pouring out of any given speaker in Riley's house. Her mom was A huge music fan who understood the difference between good and great music. This had Norma playing Prince every chance she could, giving Riley every opportunity to grow to love him too. That's when she realized just how much she missed music. She used to use music like therapy, and all her favorites became her therapists. By the time the record was over, she felt every note, every lyric run through her very being. The music was a balm to her hurt soul.
Suddenly, the sound of broken glass under her boot jolted her back to the present and made her steady pace falter. Riley hadn't even been aware that she had started walking again. She internally criticized her mistakes, and she rolled her eyes in frustration.
She knew she was being careless and not at her best. She knew that she had practically announced her location to any other ears that could be lurking nearby, even though realistically, she knew the sound was not as loud as she feared, but she didn't want to take any chances. Her cautious, brown eyes flitted to the left and right of the freeway. She turned around and suddenly stopped where she was. She held her breath to silence the sounds of her own breathing, with the hope of increasing her hearing range. Riley took in the burnt-out cars that lined each lane on both sides of the highway and noted the blood that was smeared on almost every car she saw. Releasing the breath, she convinced herself it was safe for the time being.
She adjusted the straps of her backpack as she steeled herself to continue forward. She knew this area well, and with a quick look around, she observed the overgrown sage scrub, fir trees, and bushes of Manzanita that lined both sides of the freeway. They had turned brown and dry from the heat and lack of water. She saw the dilapidated building that used to be her family's favorite Mexican restaurant. She tried to overlook the mutilated bodies that lay out over the landscape, rotting away to nothing. She was almost able to pretend they weren't there, but the smell of death is hard to ignore.
She knew she was in the city of Rialto and knew she still had some miles to travel before she would get to Lytle Creek. She almost wanted to turn around and go back to her family's home. She wanted to give up and just find a place to lie down and sleep forever. She thought about putting one of her guns in her mouth and eating a bullet, but she just couldn't see herself giving up.
Maneuvering her way down the middle of the freeway divider, Riley is loaded down with every possession she now owns in this world. Ironically, it still doesn't add up to very much. She just had her backpack she had remembered to grab from her house. It carried a few changes of clothes, plus extra socks and underwear. A notebook, several pens and pencils, extra hairbands, a small sewing kit, a first-aid kit, a can opener, granola bars in the side pockets, a few cans of fruit cocktail, three boxes of 9 mm bullets, a black bandana, and the copy of Purple Rain she had just found. Her weapons had accumulated with help from her father and brother over the last year, since the beginning of the end. Two hunter's knives with a 10-inch serrated edge blade, one in each boot, a Beretta 9 mm pistol strapped to each leg, by leg holsters, with two extra clips in her back pockets.
Then there was her most valuable and prized possession, her Colt AR-15, which she got off of a dead guy on her street in the canyon. She has only found half a box of ammo for it, so she doesn't use it very much, but just having it has made her feel better. She insisted on keeping it despite her father's attempts to take it away from her. She was given permission by her mother, who also encouraged her father to show her how to use it. And with that, her father's mission became to teach Riley how to survive. He immediately asked her brother for help, and together, they were able to train Riley for almost every scenario, except for the absolute worst case that no one could imagine.
When this began, 11 or 12 months ago, not a single person wanted to share what they had seen. What their eyes had seen and what their brains had told them had happened. It just couldn't be possible. Nobody wanted to admit out loud what it was, but everyone knew what it looked like. We all saw them and at least once in their lives, they have dressed up as one for Halloween. Riley was always taught that if it walked like a duck and talked like a duck, then it was obviously a duck. Or in this case, it was a zombie, but nobody would say that word. Nobody wanted to be the one to say "zombie." Especially not the government. So, instead, they started calling them "The Infected," because they knew who these people used to be and how they got infected.
Riley had realized early on her trip, it was going to be hard and slow-going, especially on foot, but she was determined. She kept walking, and knew where to go and could easily manage a few more miles before she stopped for a break. But on foot, and alone, traveling was turning out to be more difficult than she anticipated. She had initially set out to find a car decent enough to get to Lytle Creek, and it would make a two-day trip by foot, a 45-minute trip by car, but after so many months into this, all usable cars were already claimed by other survivors.
Riley pushed through, she continued to walk, she held the rifle in her hands, ready for anything. The weight of it, a comfort she had grown to love. She tried to keep her head clear, eyes sharp and focused, knowing any distraction was a death sentence, but she couldn't stop it.
Riley felt like she was fighting against herself, with every minute of every day, finding herself with images of her family. Her dead family. Shaking her head quickly, trying to dislodge the images, the thoughts, and the memories she hated and loved at the same time.
This time was different. It wasn't just her mom and dad. Now, another face was added to the image of her parents. Her twin brother, Ruben was the newest addition to the slide show that played on repeat in her mind. But to make Riley's life just a little bit worse, there had been an added element of torture. Riley could now hear the sounds like a soundtrack of the infected feeding and eating everything they could, and the screams of her brother as he was overtaken. Riley knew that was when they started eating him, while he was still alive. He screamed, and she lost every sense of family she had left. Now, it is in her mind, a vivid memory forever scorched into her brain, and it replays whenever it wants to.
Riley couldn't consciously go there yet, she was fighting these images hard. She couldn't focus on her goal. She couldn't concentrate and after fighting these things in her mind long enough, she decided to stop and gather herself before she got worse. All she needed was time to gather her thoughts and regroup. She chose the underpass of the upcoming exit because it was the closest thing around. She carefully climbed down the side of the bridge, sitting out of view from everything.
Her mind filled with so many things and whipped around like a hurricane, with no way she could stop it. Her thoughts had come from all different directions. No logic or understanding of the thought or images that flooded her mind. Her breath began to come out in rapid pants, sweat poured down her temples and dripped down her back. Riley was in the throes of her first panic attack, and she had no idea what to do. Riley grabbed both sides of her head and squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to get some sort of control over this, and needed to find a way to make it stop, but deep down in Riley's mind, she already knew she couldn't stop it. Tears streamed down her face and she found herself falling further away from reality and what made sense.
All she could do was plead for it to stop, and beg a god she didn't believe in anymore for mercy.
"Please, please, please, please. Stop. Stop. Please, make it stop."
Gulping as much air as she could with each breath she took, she started to hyperventilate, and the sensation of drowning swallowed her whole. Disorientated and quickly losing control even more, all she could do was try anything to make it stop. Inhaling a lungful of air, Riley screamed at the top of her lungs, for as long as she could.
The feeling of complete helplessness surrounded her, and she started to come to terms that she had finally lost her mind. Knowing she was in a fight for her life, she held on to whatever sanity she could find. Her scream echoed over the land, and the birds sitting in the treetops, startled and suddenly took flight, away from the perceived danger. Riley wished she could do the same, but she was stuck in her situation, and her strength was slipping.
Just as she felt the hands of anxiety squeeze the last of her remaining air out, Riley felt them loosen, and finally, she was able to take a much-needed breath. Taking in a few rapid breaths to replenish her depleted oxygen levels, Riley was brought back to the present. When the realization of the amount of danger she had caused for herself, was like a slap in the face, and she could start to feel anger bubble up in the pit of her stomach
The gluteal growls and uneven shuffling from the infected floated through the air and found their way to Riley's location. When she realized the danger she had put herself in had become clear, fear started to take over her mind again, and it became that much harder to concentrate. The infected became louder the closer they got, causing her to finally be able to snap out of the hysteria and Riley couldn't believe this was how it was going to end. After all the training and fighting, sharpening her skills, getting her ready for something bigger than this, she imagined. But here she was, practically a meal served on a silver platter for them.
Riley finally came to her senses, just as the smell of the infected reached her, making their presence known just how close they were to Riley.