Page 4 of Purgatory (Devil Dogs of the Apocalypse #1)

Hawk

“Fuck, if we’re gonna look for antibiotics, we might as well look for some booze... We could use some booze.”

He’s not wrong. We need to unwind... I need to unwind.

Normally, I’m the one suggesting we get shit faced so if Doc is bringing it up, you know it’s getting bad.

Cole has always been quiet but he’s never been grumpy.

Looking over at him, that’s exactly what he is right now.

It’s understandable, though. This shit is getting to all of us and we just need an outlet.

But this is what I was always good at: toning down the tension, and these days are no exception.

I side-eye him, huge obnoxious smile on my face while I wait for my sarcasm to smack Cole in his. When he finally busts out laughing, I know I’ve done my job well.

“Fuck you!” he says while laughing and pushing me away playfully. I push him back as he points in front of us.

“Hey, maybe this next house will be full of liquor. We haven’t seen anything so far in the other ones. Statistically speaking, eventually we should come across something.”

We turn to go up to the front porch of the 2-story green ranch.

It's our third from the last house today and I can’t wait to be done.

It's been a long, fucking day. Every day, it’s the same damn thing, day in and day out.

Cole’s right, we need an escape from the monotony of just simply surviving.

If I've said it once, I'll say it a million times again - Surviving is not living and I want to live.

We push through the front door, not even knocking anymore. There’s no one left in this town. Hasn’t been for a while now, besides us that is. Cole looks back to me.

“I’ll get the kitchen if you get the bathrooms”

“Got it”

We’re about to separate and search when a door slams above us. We both stop, pull back into the kitchen and grab our Glocks. Years of training and use coming on instinct. We crouch behind the island, listening to the footsteps above us with curiosity.

All of a sudden someone goes rushing past us, and into the living room, racing outside. Cole and I look at each other, stunned at what just happened.

“What the fuck?!”

“Was that a girl?” We speak at the same time. Our confusion and sudden awareness clearly evident on each other's faces.

Slowly, we walk to the French doors she ran through.

Cole plasters himself to the wall to the left of the doors, myself to the right, mirroring his position.

I peek through the window, keeping myself hidden behind the curtain and there she is.

It wasn’t a girl running past us but a woman.

Long blonde hair that’s been tied up, she’s a petite little thing.

.. twenty-four maybe twenty-five years old?

She’s staring at the clouds talking to herself, her entire body shaking.

“I’m ok.... It’s ok...”

You sure about that, sweetheart ?

“Oh my God, man, I thought we were the only ones left here? Where’d she come from?” I whisper shout at Cole. My eyes practically bugging out of my head at our discovery.

He pushes his side of the curtain to look out and shrugs, shaking his head. “You got me. How the fuck should I know? There hasn’t been anyone living here in months. What I do know is that --” he points out the window to her withering state. “Doesn’t look like she’s ok.”

Cole takes another moment to observe our little Goldilocks, his eyes squinting in contemplation.

“Should we take her back?” He looks at me expectantly, as if I have all of the answers in the universe.

What the fuck do I look like? A fucking Zoltar?

Magic 8 ball? It shall be so. The odds do not look good in your favor.

Sheesh. Shake your own balls and see what they tell you.

Looking back to the shaking flower amongst the weeds, I take a deep breath and focus my mind on Cole’s inquiry.

Should we take her back? Now that’s the question of the century.

On the one hand, I would say yes. Look at her.

She's having a nervous breakdown or something and is obviously in need of some sort of help. Cole seems a little more than concerned at her current state and if Doc is worried, we should probably be worried. On the other hand, it’s not my place to bring her back.

It’s Jax’s place. Jax’s home. Jax’s compound.

Jax’s sanctuary. And he doesn’t like, doesn’t trust and doesn’t accept outsiders.

Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Then, of course, there’s her hand.

Would she even want to come with us? How long has she been on her own?

Where the fuck did she come from and what is she doing here in bumfuck nowhere?

Too many questions and not enough answers.

I shake my head. “Let’s pull back and wait. Watch her a little bit. She may not be alone and I don’t want to bring new people down on us if we don’t have to.”

He nods back .

“Recon. Let’s go.” He flips his thumb back towards the entrance.

We quietly head back outside the front door and into the house across the street to wait for any sign of others arriving.

It doesn’t take long till she decides to leave the house. Probably in search of the same stuff we are. She takes her time and heads down the main road towards the little grocery store in the distance.

Good luck sweetheart, we’ve already cleared that out. All that’s left are chickpeas and marshmallows.

We stay a few houses back as we trail her down the street. Looking around, I still don’t see anyone else. It’s been a couple of hours since we entered that house; Fuck, I think she actually is on her own.

She starts to bop her head as she walks. Her arms drifting up and around in a serpentine motion. Then, I faintly hear her singing to herself. Is that “September” by Earth, Wind & Fire?

Hah! Good song.

Cole looks over at me, chuckling under his breath and shaking his head when he sees me start rolling my shoulders, nodding my head and lip-synching to her acoustic version. What can I say? I can’t help myself when it comes to good music.

She finally reaches the market and makes her way through the broken door of the grocery store, cautiously stepping over the busted glass.

We’re still a block or so away from the building when Cole grabs my shoulder and stops me, pulling me across the street to the post office to wait for her to step out again.

The door’s already broken just like at the market so we just push on it and make ourselves at home.

“She’s got to be alone. It’s been too long for someone to have just left her and she doesn’t exactly look like she’s waiting for anyone,” Cole says as we put our packs down on the floor, relieving our backs for a little bit.

I nod and solemnly reply, “Yea, I was thinking the same thing. Jeez, you gotta wonder how long she’s been at this by herself.”

“Honestly, probably a bit. Mentally, she doesn’t seem like she’s in the state of mind that a person, all alone, during a fucking apocalypse should be.

I mean, come on, singing and dancing down the street where there are dead bodies lying everywhere you look?

That’s some psychologically messed up shit. ”

He’s not wrong. After a while, even I tend to forget that there are, in fact, corpses lying about.

All over the damn place. I’m looking at one right now, lying just under the window I’m sitting next to.

Sup, Bernie. I mentally wave to him, hoping he got his post out before he croaked.

Granted, it’s not many since most that have turned into the literal walking dead have decided to migrate somewhere else but still, a dead body is a dead body, even if it’s just one.

Eventually, they just turn into their own version of a shrub.

You see that it’s there but you pay it no attention.

But, regardless, a normal civilian that doesn’t possess the dark humor we have probably wouldn’t be so cavalier about the death and destruction surrounding them.

They’d show some sort of reaction at least. Which means this girl has seen some shit. ..

Thinking back, I remember noticing a rather intriguing shape protruding from her bag.

“I wonder if her name is Harley. Kinda shows a resemblance, huh? Both physically and mentally. I mean, shit, she DOES have a baseball bat in her backpack.”

He laughs. “Yea, but if that’s the case then where’s the Joker?” He looks around with his arms out at his sides .

“Fuck it, I’ll be her Joker.” Pointing to myself and waggling my eyebrows. “She’s already ticking off a ton of boxes. Number 1: Female, Number 2: blonde, Number 3: likes good music, Number 4: confident, Number 5: crazy as hell...”

“Ok, ok, ok got it. You haven’t even met her yet and you’re already over the moon for her. Here’s a toast to your inevitably, impending nuptials.” He laughs to himself while raising an invisible champagne flute in the air.

“OH! If I’m the Joker, then Jax could be Batman!

He’s a fucking dark knight already, all miserable in his McMansion.

” I’m getting way too carried away with this but it works way too well for this scenario.

And who the fuck cares, what else do we have to do while we wait?

I left our poker cards back at the house anyways.

“If that’s the case, then who would I be?”

“That’s a no brainer... Alfred”

Cole was a Corpsman when we were in. Laymen's terms: a field medic.

He patched up plenty of guys when we were overseas, including myself and Jax.

Combine that will all of his other hidden talents, the dude is a modern-day renaissance man and can do just about anything yet will refuse to gloat about it. Totally Alfred.

“Fuck you! I’m not your fucking man servant”

“No, but you take such good care of us.” I pinch his cheek and he swats my hand away before he points a finger at my face.

“You bet your asses I do, but I'm still not fucking Alfred.” With a huff, he turns away and sits down on the window sill, focusing on the door where our self-proclaimed Harley disappeared through.

He might think that Alfred was just a butler, but little does he realize that Alfred was one of Batman’s strongest allies.

He cooked, handled all of the domestic business, was skilled in medicine and overwhelmingly protected Bruce Wayne and all of his secrets.

Bruce wouldn’t have stood a chance without him.

Just as we wouldn’t have stood a chance without Cole. Alfred all the way.