(Book 2)What Remains by Nathan Barnes

as they
followed the direction of the James below. My pulse pounded so
fiercely that it felt like it was in fact the Kukri’s wooden handle
that had a heartbeat. Quickly tracing the path of the blade, I saw
it disappear within the gut of the man that had saved my life not
hours before. Viscous crimson echoes of his existence oozed past
the gleaming steel to blend with the coating of filth that hinted
towards the hardships which had led him here on the railroad bridge
with me. Through the gloom of night I could see the shine of Phil’s
pupils; pupils that had grown wide as his humanity fled and the
virus took hold. The face of a man, not the ghoul he was becoming,
was wrought with sorrow. I was his last friend on this Earth. I
betrayed him. I murdered him.
    Sarah’s lips tenderly met mine. A shock of
realization flashed into my battered mind bringing reality back to
the foreground. A gentle, caring hand lightly ran over the healing
gash in my forehead then down to wipe away a tear that had slipped
past my defenses.
    “Shut up, you big sap. Let’s go make our
rinky-dink Thanksgiving dinner before the kids eat all of our
supplies.”

Chapter 8 - Thankful

1820 hours:

    Everyone was given their own task to make sure
things happened quickly since so much of the day had been stolen
from us. The lack of time and ability to cook anything extravagant
would make Thanksgiving meager in comparison to the feast that was
normally associated with the day. Sarah was first downstairs. She
looked out the peephole in the family room and then the kitchen
first to ensure there wasn’t anything close enough to make our
presence downstairs short-lived. As soon as she called up that we
were good to go I passed orders to the eager little ones.
    Both of the kids were under strict orders to
stay in the attic. I told them that we would bring the cooked food
to the ladder and they would be able to prepare our rinky little
table however they wished. Maddox showed some wisdom in his slight
age difference and didn’t protest. Calise looked very bothered by
it all.
    “What’s the matter, baby girl?” She sniffled; a
tear streamed down her delicate little face. “Calise, what’s wrong?
You can tell me, sweetie.”
    “I don’t...” her words trailed off into a
mumble. A distant shotgun blast somewhere outside didn’t help the
poor girl speak any louder.
    “Sweetheart, I can’t understand you. Please tell
me what’s wrong so we can get going on dinner.”
    “I’m scared, Daddy. I don’t want you to die
again.”
    I scooped her up in a big hug. Her swirling hair
tickled my face as she buried herself in my shoulder. When the
trembling of her sobs settled I placed her down in front of me then
knelt down to her level. It was a struggle to keep the positional
aches and pains I felt from showing in my face. “I am just fine.
Mommy is just fine. Monkey is just fine. YOU are just fine. We’re
together and we’ll make it to Grandma and Grandpa’s where the
monsters won’t hurt us. I’m scared too, princess. It’s okay to be
scared because that means I’m still alive. The monsters outside
don’t get scared but if they did do you know what would scare them?
Me. I promise they would be so, so very scared of me . Oh…
and maybe Maddox.”
    She giggled, as did Maddox.
    “Now I have an idea of what might make you feel
a little better about us being downstairs. Tell me the names of two
of your favorite kitties in your room. But think carefully because
they must be the very bravest of your kitties.”
    Her eyes lit up with the mention of her beloved
plush felines. “Hmm.... I think Van Gough and Colonel Meows-a-lot.”
Each member of her collection had a special name with some funny
story behind it. I saw them all as mementos; memories alluding to a
simpler time that ended abruptly weeks before. However, all the
mattered then was that she could see them as trusted friends.
    “Great choice! Now sit right there at the top of
the stairs while I