The Makarovs, after leaving Nightfall in Part 1

Sam and Peter Makarov walked the path through the woods a few yards from the highway. The sounds of vehicles rose like constant white noise through the forest, keeping the father and son on constant edge. Both listened for the sounds of the infected, even though Sam assured his son that few people traveled through the woods. It was the safest way to make their way outside of Nightfall.

They trekked for hours through the gentle rise of a Colorado hillside. When it leveled off, the forest thinned, and several houses cropped up. Paved roads were easier to walk. Sam picked up pace, and Peter trudged along only a few paces behind his father. The countryside was quiet, except for the natural call of birds and the chittering of insects. They moved farther from the highway and the sounds that came with it.

Peter’s feet ached. His shoes were a year old before they started, and a hole had already formed under the front of the left one. He always walked on the front of his feet, even more so due to the heavy pack on his back. His father carried one as well along with two trash bags filled with scavenged gear. Peter hated walking through the forest. He could not navigate and was lost without his father.

“The sun is going down. We find a house, and we stop for the night. Keep your eyes open, boy. See if you can spot any open doors,” Sam said and pointed towards the houses on the right.

“How can I see that far?” Peter asked. “It’s like fifty feet away. Maybe we should walk closer.”

Sam grunted and veered towards the houses. The first one had an extended driveway, with a car and a van under a carport. Three concrete steps led to the front door, and Sam climbed them with his pistol drawn. It was an old gun he had brought over from Russia, named a Makarov pistol. As far as he knew, his family had no relation to the inventor of the gun. He glanced through the window by the side of the door, though blinds blocked all but a sliver of his vision. An older woman stepped across the room and disappeared behind the door. Sam pretended he didn’t see her and knocked.

“Hello. Is anyone in there? We need help, please.”

No reply came through the door, and so Sam said, “My name is Sam, and I am with my son, Peter. We have been walking all day and only ask for a glass of water and any food you can spare. We can pay.”

Peter looked at his father, normally the strongest man he had ever met. He could walk all day on barely any food or water. Peter could not remember the last time he had been to the doctor’s. He took his blood pressure at the pharmacy which always read perfectly. It annoyed Peter since he was always going to the free clinic, and his blood pressure was never even close to perfect. He currently had a cold, and his father’s answer to this was, “toughen up.”

The door opened a few inches, though a chain still barred the door. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear you through the door.” She had dark gray hair and light pale skin, wearing a summer dress. Peter thought she was around his mother’s age, if she was still alive.

Sam smiled. “My name is Sam. I am traveling with my son, and we would appreciate water if you can spare any. We can pay.” He held the gun behind his back out of the woman’s sight.

The woman hesitated and looked away. Sam took the opportunity to look through the space made by the woman opening the door. When she turned back to him, Sam backed away and smiled again.

“I’m sorry if you have company. Maybe your husband or your family are home? I’m sorry to bother you. We will go,” he said.

“No, it’s just me here. But the news said there is an infection going around—“

Sam shoved the door inward with such force it knocked the woman in the face. The chain snapped and Sam stepped inside the living room. As the woman opened her mouth to scream, Sam covered it with his hand and placed the barrel of the pistol to the side of her neck.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want much from you at all but a place to stay and some water and food. I’m sorry about hitting you with the door. If you promise not to scream or try anything foolish, I will take away my hand. Yes?”

She nodded, and Sam took away his hand. Blood trickled from her scalp. He took out a dirty handkerchief from his back pocket and pressed it to her forehead. “Hold this there. I made you bleed, but it’s barely a scratch. Come, have a seat. We won’t trouble you.”

The woman held the folded cloth to her head and sat on the couch. Her lips quivered in fear. Peter walked across the room to an open kitchen and swung the refrigerator door wide. Fried chicken, potato salad, string beans. He took it all out and placed it on the table. As he picked up a chicken leg, his father walked over, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to the side of the kitchen.

“Do not mess up here, boy. We will eat this woman’s food, sleep in her beds, and leave in the morning. You will behave yourself. Yes?”

Peter nodded and went for a bite of the chicken. His father yanked it out of his hands.

“I want to hear you say it. Nothing will happen. You will behave yourself.”

Peter looked his father in the eye. “Nothing will happen. I will behave myself.”

His father broke into a smile. “Good. Get something to eat.” He took a bite of the chicken leg and walked away from his son.

---

The next morning…

Peter hurried behind his father who kept a quick pace. He reached into the plastic bag in his hand and took out a pack of M&Ms. As he walked through the woods, the uneven forest floor made it difficult to pour the candies into his hand. Every time he took a step, M&Ms fell to the ground.

“I cannot believe you. Trouble. Everywhere we go. I should break your leg and leave you here. Maybe then you won’t follow me.” Sam said, his voice strained in anger.

“Maybe you should.”

Sam stopped and spun around. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

Sam gave him a hard stare and then turned around to continue along the path. Peter followed in silence, listening to the sounds of nature around them: the cicadas, bird calls, a hawk in the distance. He shoved some M&Ms in his mouth and washed them down with flat ginger ale like they were medicine. He wished they were prescription pills that could help him control his behavior. He didn’t want to be trouble to his father. He just didn’t know how to be normal or even what that meant.

After thirty more minutes of walking, Sam stopped suddenly and stepped behind a tree for cover. He waved back to Peter who ducked behind a bush. They could both hear talking from the other side of the tree not more than five yards away.

“I don’t know where to go, but it’s not like we could have stayed at the hotel or gotten a room somewhere else. The infected are everywhere. We need to stay away from everyone.”

It was a male voice, strong and confident. Peter stepped through the high grass until he stood behind his father.

“You never trust anyone. We have to trust someone, Evan. We can’t do this alone forever.”

“Not forever, Trisha. Just until this virus goes away. We can last out here in the woods. We just have to avoid other people. Trust me.”

Peter saw the man was over six feet tall and muscular. He was putting up a tent and held a metal stake against the ground and hammered it, driving it inches deep with one strike. All the while he looked from left to right, watching, observing, while the woman sat on a tree stump staring at the sky. She was pretty. She had light brown hair and wore a thin yellow sundress. Peter started to smile and shook his head to make it stop.

Sam stood and grabbed Peter’s shoulder. He led him away even though Peter wanted to stay. He wanted to go introduce himself to Trisha. Maybe she would let them stay.

“Why are we going away from them? They have a whole camp,” Peter said.

“No!” Sam said in a stifled shout. He led him away a little further. “Every time, you do this to me. We meet nice people, easy people, and you do something bad. We are staying away from them. We will set up a camp over there.”

Peter followed his father into a clearing fifty yards away. He counted each step and took notice of the change from oak to pine trees, the wildflowers, and moss growing on one side of the bark. Without his father he was normally lost in the forest. But he knew the way to Trisha. He looked back towards the camp and smiled.