Beneath Dark Skies (Rolling Hills Ranch #1)

6. Theo

SIX

THEO

THE BEAR TRAP

Day 394

Deep breath in. Hold for three. Deep breath out.

The mantra Kenji taught me as a child plays on a loop in my mind as I try to calm myself down, knowing what awaits us today.

With each step taking me further away from last night’s makeshift campground and a bit deeper into the small patch of woods, the weight seems to ease from my chest. I’ve always felt a sense of calm when I’m alone in the natural world, finding sanctuary amidst the towering trees and mossy earth. A place where each step, each breath, was a declaration that life pulsed and persevered even in silence.

Early morning sunlight filters down through the canopy of leaves, casting a golden hue around me and bringing a subtle warmth to my skin. Every single one of my footfalls on the floor seems to reverberate through my body, connecting me to the earth below. The rustle of leaves in the gentle morning breeze is like a soft whisper against my skin, and the earthy aroma of soil and falling leaves envelop me.

I pause, reaching out to trace the bark of a large tree next to me. As I crane my head up towards the sky to see how far this tree towers, I can’t help but wonder what this tree has seen in its long life. How many people before me took notice of this tree, just like me? How many people made their way past without a second glance?

The thought of people makes my chest constrict again.

I sit down, leaning against the tree, the rough bark scratching at me slightly, and tilt my head back with my eyes closed.

Deep breath in. Hold for three. Deep breath out.

For months, it’s been Kenji, Adrian, and me against the infected.

Although, for years, it’s felt like the three of us against the world.

When Momma Suzie first came to me as a child, I thought there was no way things were ever going to be okay again. It’s an awful and difficult thing to lose your mom. It’s worse when you have nowhere else to go, and you fear where you’ll end up, especially as the Deaf kid who adults find ‘difficult to deal with.’

I remember the first responders on the scene pulling me out of the car while I screamed and cried for my mom, begging them to take me to her. I remember one of the firefighters turning my head away, hoping to spare me from the visual of the car on fire with my mom’s unconscious body still in it. I remember waking up in the hospital and the moment when our next-door neighbor Suzie May ran in, throwing her arms around me and softly rubbing my back, trying to reassure me that everything would be okay.

It didn’t feel like it would. It didn’t feel like anything would ever be okay ever again.

I didn’t realize I was hyperventilating until my eyes focused again right on Suzie’s terrified face. Her hands were framing my face, and she was speaking, saying something but there wasn’t any sound with it.

There was never any sound.

I felt a hand grip one of mine and squeeze - not to the point of pain, but just enough to grab my attention. I turned to the left and noticed Suzie’s son sitting next to me, his eyes on mine. I’d seen Kenji before, spending time outside with another boy his age who lived on the same street as us. The other boy always smiled and waved when he saw me, but Kenji only stared. Just like he was staring now.

He was saying something, too, and then he took a large, exaggerated breath in, never breaking eye contact. This was followed by a large, exaggerated breath out. He kept repeating this, and I found myself following his movements. When the ache in my chest seemed to ease and my breaths were coming normally, he pulled back from me, drawing my attention to his face.

Even if he hadn’t just pulled me back from my first panic attack on the worst day of my life, I would have remembered this moment forever. Because there was Kenji, speaking slowly, giving me time to read his lips.

“You’re not alone.” He said to me before pointing at himself. “I’ll be your brother. You won’t be alone.”

Not alone.

And so he was. He became my brother that day, and Adrian became my other brother shortly after. They protected me whenever someone wanted to pick on me, which was unfortunately often. They, along with Momma Suzie, learned ASL to make sure they could communicate with me, even signing along while they spoke when I wasn’t around. They calmed me down and did the breathing exercises with me whenever panic started to set in. They supported me as I explored my interests and went out of state to college. They protected me and fought with me as the end of the world came crashing down around us.

Kenji and Adrian knew, understood, and loved me as I was. They communicated and respected me for my knowledge.

Could the same be said for the people we will encounter later today in this new place? Would they respect and accept me, even if they can’t easily speak with me?

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t realize something is wrong until a shadow falls over me. Opening my eyes, I come face to face with three infected, all coming right at me.

Jesus fuck, how could I be so stupid? The three of us hadn’t seen a single infected for days as we’d gotten closer to the community, so we assumed it was safe. We should have known better. I should have known better. Hoping that Kenji and Adrian were safe back at the little campsite, we made last night, I pull the machete I have from its holster and swing.

The blade slices cleanly through the throat of the first zombie, spraying dark, congealed blood into the air as its head falls to the ground. Without hesitation, I pivot and swing again, the machete biting into the arm of the second one with a vile shudder. The limb dangles by a thread of graying flesh and tendon as the creature’s mouth twists in what looks like a guttural, enraged snarl.

I push away from the tree, my heart pounding in my chest, and sprint in a wide arc to get behind the third zombie, which is trailing sluggishly behind the others. With grim determination, I shove the knife into its lower back and drag it upwards with a brutal twist, feeling the resistance of bone and muscle giving way easily. Too easily–a grim reminder of how decayed and far from humanity these things are. The creature crumples to the ground, gurgling black blood escaping its lips.

The second zombie, now missing an arm, stumbles towards me again. Its eyes are vacant, driven only by a relentless hunger. I aim a swift, punishing kick to its shin, the bone snapping beneath my boot, flesh ripping off as I do. As it collapses, I bring the machete down in a swift arc, the blade sinking into its neck. I watch its head bounce once on the forest floor, finally coming to rest against a tangle of roots, the eyes still wide open but lifeless.

I was lucky. So damn lucky that I opened my eyes in time to see them coming at me after being so stupid and complacent in a world where survivors couldn’t afford to let their guards down. So damn lucky that there were only three of them coming for me and not a larger horde that I wouldn’t have been capable of taking on by myself.

This brings my mind right back to Kenji and Adrian, back at our campsite, probably asleep and unaware of potential zombies wandering around. Deciding to keep my weapon unsheathed in case I came across more of them, I turn and run to make my way back to the other guys.

If I had been more careful and paid more attention to my surroundings, I wouldn’t have left the campsite this morning without a word to the other guys, letting them know where I was off to.

I wouldn’t have gotten so close to the infected almost getting me, resting against a tree with my eyes closed like a sitting duck.

I probably would have noticed that a section of the ground in front of me had more leaves than normal, almost like they were left there intentionally.

I would have stopped to look at this and see what was going on.

I would have caught that there was a bear trap set up right in front of me.

I wouldn’t have stepped into this bear trap as I returned to camp.

And if I were capable of hearing, I probably would hear the sound of an awful crunch as that trap wraps right around my left leg and takes me down, my ankle twisting awkwardly as I fall.

I would hear the sound of my scream echoing around me.