Silence.
Silence. Maybe the others decided to come back…
Footsteps.
Someone is inside the Ax, and he or she is trying to be very quiet.
Another set of footsteps approaches from the other side of the room. My hand trembles as footsteps grow in number and volume. There are too many of them to keep count - too many to be the others returning. I stare out though the opening in my drywall. It’s nearly black, but some movement on the far side of the building catches my eye. The star's light from outside the glass windows creates silhouettes of the many people now in the Ax. It's not them. My hand begins to shake even more – there's dozens of them. The heavy darkness is mildly encouraging; I doubt they will see me unless someone stops right in front of the broken wall with a light. The footsteps grow louder.
And closer. I hold my breath.
A voice echoes through the Ax from the outside. “Bill, he’s in here. He’s beat to hell, but he’s all right. He says they probably high-tailed it out of here when they learned we were all coming.”
My God, they’re actually buying Ryan’s story.
“Yea, it looks like they left in a mighty hurry. Stuff is scattered all over.”
A flashlight illuminates and sweeps along the far side of the room. I can barely make out the speaker’s face. He is wearing a faded green ski-cap and his lower face is covered with thick stubble. His mouth opens.
“Definitely isn’t anyone here. Stuff here looks broken.”
A few more flashlight beams move along the inside of the Ax. The lights scan the floor and the walls. The bandit who we captured steps into one of the beams. His face is even more bruised and half of it is covered in red. Ryan did a number on him all right.
“God man, who did that to
you?”
“It was a white fella and some black boy.”
“Watch it, Smith.”
“Sorry Sam. The white one did most of the damage. I thought I heard some other voices, too when they walked me into that greenhouse, but my head was already spinning at that point. These
guys are pretty tough. I reckon they were smart enough to take me seriously when I said you all would come looking. Doesn’t look like they left much.”
“No,” a voice says from beyond my vision. “We should start heading back. Sampson found some goods in the basement of that gas station, so we had better get it back home. We’ll be able to give those children a decent breakfast in the
mornin’.”
The footsteps dissipate as they make their way out of the Ax. Some voices echo from outside and fade into the distance. We are almost in the clear. I slowly and still quietly fill my lungs with the first full breath of air in minutes.
A beam of light reappears in the room.
There’s still one.
The beam points into the closet beside me. One must have stayed behind. The beam enlarges with a series of footsteps. He moves closer to the closet – closer to me. A small layer of drywall hides me from his eyes.
Please just go way. There's nothing in here.
The cone of light disappears, but then focuses again on the opening of the closet. The man with the green hat steps into my view and lingers, standing inches from the threshold and inches from me. He turns toward the direction of the exit – away from me. If he turns the other way, there’s no way he won’t see me.
“Hey guys, I’m gonna give this place one last check. I’ll catch up in a few.”
Some voices shout back, and I make out a “be careful” among some other things.
His breathing gets heavier. The light disappears as he turns and checks the opposite wall. He stops and hesitates right in front of me. If
he merely turns his head, he’d be looking directly into my face.
My grip tightens on the knife while I focus on the throat of the figure a few feet away.
In the distance, I hear gunshots.
Chapter 3: Caitlyn
“Are you sure this is what you need?” I ask, turning back to Nate in the small white room. A single, dust-covered window illuminates the room in a soft, yellow hue. The sun's early morning beams light up the newly disturbed particles of dust floating through the air. It has been years since someone alive was in this room. I turn to the examination table against the wall to my right. It holds the last occupant of the room. Judging by the tattered remains of clothes, it was once a man. Now all that is left are bones amongst black dust. I imagine six years will reduce anyone to next to nothing. Luckily, the smell didn’t last that long.
In my hands is some piece of medical equipment. It has a small dark screen and an extension cord that leads back to the outlet.
Hopefully, this box still works.
“Yea, Caitlyn,” Nate reassures patiently while lifting his glasses to the top of his nose. His thumbs
are hooked to the straps of his large backpack. He turns his back to me. The zipper is already down, and I load the small box inside along with all the other supplies we have salvaged in the small community hospital. All of our backpacks are full of similar provisions. This is our second trip to the isolated building to find supplies that Laura and Nate need for their research. When the looters came, they had no need for what is now on our list.
And
, we need to find these items quickly.
It's been five weeks since Ryan intercepted the New American broadcast. Thousands are dying
along the coast, and the plague appears to be slowly spreading to the west. Most New American cities are in quarantine, and that action seems to have effectively slowed the westward progression of the virus.
But
, the plague is still traveling. We don't have long until it finds our farm. At first, we considered stockpiling goods and sealing up from the rest of the world. However, the cities to the east must be doing the same, and they are failing. The Ax will not be any different; isolation is too risky. By Laura's estimation of the virus’s growth, Washington will start falling ill within the next few days. Within a week of their exposure, it won’t be far from us. Granted, these are all estimates; it could come sooner, or it could come later. I still have no idea what caused the plague or what was causing this current outbreak.
Nate and Laura have an idea though.
Despite our panic due to the news of the plague’s return, the nerds remained calm. They were more prepared. Making moonshine and running water was just the tip of the iceberg with them. They’ve already modified our new car, a much smaller sedan, to run on some liquid bio-fuel or whatever they call it. Science doesn’t mean a damn to me, but it is everything to them. And, that may save our lives.
It may save everyone.
Since the broadcast, they have turned the old walk-in refrigeration unit in the Ax into a laboratory of sorts. They have studied over all of their notes and instruments tirelessly. While at the Resistance's school, they said that they spent most of the time analyzing the virus for the sake of science. Their curiosity gave them a head start on figuring it all out.
A tall man walks into the small room with Nate and me. He’s not quite as muscular as he used to be, but he is still formidable. He wears a dirty maroon polo beneath an open gray wool coat and
carries a cardboard box filled with things that look, well breakable.
“You two find what you need in here?” David asks. He adjusts the box in his hands and the items inside clang together.
“Careful!” Laura yelps from behind him. A few loose blonde hairs fall over her tired eyes. Laura and Nate know we are running out of time and barely spend time sleeping.
“It’s fine; it’s fine,” David says with a smirk towards Laura. Nate walks in front of me while aggressively tightening the straps on his backpack.
“Yes. I suppose we have exhausted this resource,” Nate quickly says, bringing a folder to his eyes and turning a few sheets. Honestly, I hate the overly intellectual way he talks. He walks towards Laura and gets her attention.
The two quickly walk down the hallway with each of them holding a different end of the folder. They speak in light whispers. This is how they usually talk to one another.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” David asks while we both proceed to follow the nerds down the hospital hallway. Aside from some turned over chairs and a thick layer of dirt, it looks similar to a hospital hallway I walked down with Sara a long time ago after our parents died.
I’ve been able to start thinking about her. I still don’t talk about her, but I’m managing it all the best I can. I’ve wandered out of the Ax in tears a few nights, but it’s been weeks since the last instance. They needed me to try to move on. The final time I ran out, I haphazardly cut off most of my long black hair with my knife. It reminded me too much of her, and I just wasn't thinking. Jo helped me even the hair out so it actually looks quite nice as compared to the butchering job I did with my dull blade. I like it better short. It helps give the impression of a fresh start.
“Who knows,” I simply answer. I don’t talk much at all really, unless it’s important. I just am not motivated. David gives me a slight nod, and we continue down a stairwell and make our way towards the exit.
“Wait up,” David shouts to the pair who seems to be lost in a discussion. They freeze and turn toward us about ten feet from the entrance. Laura's head turns while her hands tuck the folder into Nate’s backpack. “They are going to start worrying about us; so, you all ready to head back?”
They nod. We came to this hospital yesterday and spent the night here. Judging by the sun, it is still early in the morning, and we told them we’d be back early today. The sky is rarely this blue, so it was best to take advantage of the weather. A freak snowstorm could strand us out here. Laura gives a smile.
“Yea let's-”
SCREECH.
The sound of brakes on asphalt blasts through the hospital’s entrance. A car must have hit an ice patch, and now it
is stopped in the parking lot. After the sound of opening and closing car doors, heated voices travel from the outside.
Nate and Laura back up, and Laura pulls out her silenced pistol. Another one of the nerds from the Resistance had modified her gun to make it quiet and accurate. Nate reaches into his own holster and pulls out a small steel pipe. I’ve seen him use one like it
before. It is a grenade.
“Should we conceal ourselves?” Nate asks. The voices move closer, probably feet from the door. David sets the box down on the reception desk and pulls up the rifle from his back. They’ve made me carry a gun, but I hesitate to bring it out. I just can’t fight anymore.
Not yet. None of them can blame me. I suppose that if they really need me, I won’t let them down. The remaining fingers on my left hand move to the straps of my backpack. I prepare for David to say run. I hope he says run.
“We don’t have time for this,” David says. The voices grow from outside. I hear a burst of laughter, and some arguing. Whoever they are,
they aren’t trying to sneak up on us. “Stand your ground.”
I was afraid he would say that. I take a slight step backwards while the other three focus on the entrance. The voices from outside become clearer.
“Can you believe her…” the stranger’s voice ends in a gasp. A group of five men freezes as they come to the entrance and see all of us in front of them. Three of them have pipes or bats, but none have guns. Their eyes are wide.
“Whoa, whoa.
Don’t shoot,” one yells. Most of them throw their hands up. “We ain’t got any guns. We are just checkin’ for supplies.”
“On your knees!”
David yells. He moves closer with the rifle and motions towards the ground. They move to the side of the hallway and some of them start to get down. One with a green ski cap remains standing. He has the beginnings of a beard around his mouth and down his neck.
“Listen buddy, we are just here to get some supplies.” He gestures towards one of his group. The man has bandages over a large portion of his face. His jacket is white and the top of it
is stained with blood. “He got beat up pretty badly last night. We just ran out of medical supplies at our home and thought we’d come here. We’ve been here before and hoped that maybe we missed something to help clean him up. Man, we’ve had a long night. We’re lucky we all didn’t end up worse.”
David nods and glances to us.
“Fine. You just stay there for a few more moments, and then we will be on our way.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” the man says, now lowering to his knees. I pick up the box and the four of us make our way past the group and head outside into the cold. David brings up the rear. The man in the green ski hat nods to us as we proceed down the hall. Our car hides a few hundred yards down the road in a garage. Nate figures that if something happens, it can always be
a safe fallback point to reach in the event that we become separated. Luckily, we’ve never needed to make a run on any of our supply raids before. This time came dangerously close.
I pass the kneeling group’s car parked right outside. It's a beat up station wagon. While running, my eyes catch a glimpse of a book in the backseat. Jo has been reading the same book. Even the cover
is torn…
It is the same book. I feel my eyes widen as I maintain pace with the rest of them as we run down the street. We turn down the cracked driveway and the car comes into view.
No, maybe it’s not hers.
No, it is. It’s exactly her book.
I place the box in the trunk then David closes it and jumps into the driver’s seat. Laura gets in the passenger seat, and we are quickly moving down the road.
It is her book.
“I’m pretty sure they were in the Ax,” I finally say.
“What?” Laura says turning in her seat.
“Before us?”
“No. In the backseat of their car is a book. It is Jo’s book.”
David stomps on the brake, and we come to a halt. He turns.
“Are you sure it was her exact book?”
“Yes,” I say. I barely speak, so when I do, people tend to believe me.
“Do we go back?” Laura turns to David. Nate pulls off his glasses and massages his eyes.
“That would probably be the most logical-” he begins.
“No,” I cut him off. “Either way, what’s done is done. Maybe it was just a trade. If we go back there, someone is going to get hurt.”
“Most likely,” Nate says.
“Caitlyn is right,” Laura says. “Let’s just get back there and see. I feel like if they had been there by force, more of them would be hurt.”
That made sense. The car moves again.
“Drive fast,” I insist.
David’s foot comes down hard, and we take off down the road.