Lives We Lost,The (8 page)

ten

We walked for two days, stopping briefly in the few towns we passed and coming up with nothing we could drive. My stomach, hips, and legs perpetually ached. Conversation dwindled, and then stopped almost completely.

On the second afternoon we achieved a minor victory, finding a shelf of canned food in a garage, as well as a spool of steel wire. As we walked on, Leo used it to demonstrate the snare-making techniques he’d learned from his dad. “I hated the hunting trips he planned more than anything,” he said, twisting the wire. “But they did pretty much save my life getting back to the island. If we’re lucky, we can catch a few rabbits.”

When we stopped for the night at a lone farmhouse a short distance off the freeway, Leo, Gav, and I set the six snares around the closest field. I woke the next morning to Gav sliding out from under the sleeping bag beside me. Only a faint glow of dawn light lit the room.

“Up already?” I murmured.
“I want to check the snares before everyone’s awake,” he said. “So they don’t hold us up heading out.”

My eyelids still felt a little heavy, but I suspected I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. I slipped away from Meredith to join him.
The sun was just starting to rise beyond the trees, but I could already feel there’d been a shift in the temperature. The snow felt mushy under my boots as we circled the house. Somewhere to the left, I heard a faint trickle of melt water.
It wouldn’t last. January melts never did. As soon as the temperatures fell again overnight, the ground would be slick with ice formed over half-melted snow. We’d have to walk even more cautiously tomorrow. Drew had broken his wrist on one of those days—eight years ago, but I could still remember the crack of bone when his feet had slipped out from under him on the front walk.
Drew, of course, had turned it into an opportunity. He couldn’t write properly with the cast, so he’d talked Dad into “lending” him the old work laptop that mostly sat in Dad’s study gathering dust. When the cast had come off, Drew had headed off any request for the laptop’s return with the open audacity he’d possessed even at ten years old. “Wasn’t it nice not having me and Kaelyn fighting over the living room computer anymore?” he’d said, and Dad had let him keep it.
My chest tightened up at the memory. Drew was so smart. So determined. It wasn’t totally crazy for me to think he might still be alive, was it?
“Nothing here,” Gav said, bending to tug an empty loop of wire from beside the wooden fence that ran along the field. “Well, we might as well hold on to them.”
He eyed the snare for a second longer before hooking it over the sleeve of his coat.
“You okay?” I asked as we tramped toward the next.
“Yeah,” he said. “Just . . . a little impatient, I guess. I miss the truck.” He laughed, but it sounded strained.
“Me too. At least we haven’t run into that woman in the green van again.”
“No kidding.” He pulled up the second empty snare and looped it over his arm with the first. “It’s funny,” he said after a moment. “I keep thinking about how much I wanted to get off the island before. Have some long road trip with Warren, see the whole country and all the things I was missing. Figure out where I fit in. But then, this virus comes, and . . . it’s all the same now. Everything’s screwed up, everywhere.”
A lump rose in my throat. “Gav,” I said, quietly.
“And it turned out the one place I could make a little difference was right there on the island,” he went on. “Who would have thought?”
“You’ve been amazing,” I said. Could he really not know that? “And it’s not going to stay like this. If the vaccine works, if people can stop getting sick, we can start fixing everything.”
“Yeah,” he said. He wrapped his gloved hand around mine and held it as we continued our circuit of the field.
The next three snares were undisturbed too. “I was hoping we’d get
something
,” Gav said.
“When Leo was traveling back, it was still fall,” I pointed out. “Most of the animals are hibernating now.”
“Right.” He paused as we headed toward the last snare. “You and him . . . You weren’t ever anything more than friends, were you?”
“What?” I said, my face going hot, grateful for the scarf that hid my cheeks. Had he seen something, overheard something? But what had there been to see or hear, really? The fact was, I could say with complete honesty, “No. We’ve always been just friends.”
Gav stopped, sliding his arms around me. “I’m sorry,” he said, his head bent beside mine. “I don’t know why I was thinking about it.”
“It’s okay,” I said. As if I could prove it, I nudged down our scarves and kissed him. His lips were dry but warm. He held me close for another few seconds, and I wished we were anywhere but in the middle of an empty field, hundreds of miles from anything familiar. Somewhere we could be our normal selves, if only for a moment.
When Gav drew back, the longing in his expression suggested he was thinking the same thing. A tingle shivered over my skin. But he just cocked his head and gave me a grin that was a little less strained, and said, “We’d better finish up before the others send a search party.”
As we came up on the last snare, I spotted a furry shape beneath the bush where we’d set it. “Hey!” Gav said, hurrying forward. I followed, slowing when I made out a long slender tail.
“That’s not a rabbit,” I said. I forced myself to take the last few steps to Gav’s side.
It was a cat, a brown tabby, its scrawny body rigid, head twisted where it’d struggled to free itself from the snare. I closed my eyes. From the looks of it, the cat might have died soon anyway, thanks to starvation or the cold. We might even have done it a kindness. What made my stomach lurch was the thought of what we might do with it now.
“Doesn’t look like it has that much meat on it,” Gav said uncertainly. I could feel him watching me. And suddenly I wanted to hit something. This was all because of the virus. The virus had stranded us here with no heat or food or people to help. The virus had put us in the position where we had to consider eating what had once been someone’s pet. I hated it. I hated it so much.
There was no way I was letting it beat us, no matter what it took.
I made myself shrug, exhaling my anger. “A little bit of meat could be the difference between making it one more day and . . . not making it, right?”
“True.” He crouched down by the bush. “I think it’s mostly frozen. We could pack it with snow so it stays that way, not use it unless we have to.”
I nodded. “Let’s get a bag. I don’t want Meredith seeing it.”
We didn’t speak, walking back to the house, but just outside the door, Gav turned and touched my face. Tears sprang into my eyes. I blinked, willing them away.
“I’m okay,” I said. “I’m fine. I just want to get out of here.”
“That makes two of us,” Gav said with a crooked smile.
He went back for the cat with a bag, and stashed it in the middle of his sled. We didn’t mention it again.

The six of us didn’t reach the next town until the sun had arced across the sky and started slipping back down toward the trees. Tobias spotted it first, pointing to a ripple of snow-patched rooftops in the distance. Clouds were bunching along the horizon above them.

Without speaking, we all picked up our pace to cross the last few spans of field. The warmth had let us open our jackets and loosen our scarves as we walked, but the soggy snow dragged at the sleds. Every muscle between my feet and my waist burned.

The town looked about the same size as the one where we’d lost the truck. I reached for Meredith’s hand as we marched down the first street we came to, our sleds bumping sides. The emptiness was almost comforting. I’d rather we were the only ones here.

We didn’t stop, but slowed to scan the laneways and side streets. On the first few blocks, we passed a couple cars, but both of them were obviously too small. Then I noticed a black pickup truck at the back of a driveway, its bed full of half-melted snow.

“You think that’d do it?” I asked.

“We might as well try,” Gav said, his eyes brightening. “Let’s take a look.”
We tramped down the driveway together. Tobias tried the driver’s-side door. It opened, but he shook his head.
“Looks like someone already tried to hotwire it and didn’t know what they were doing,” he said. Frayed wires dangled beneath the steering wheel. “I don’t suppose any of you know how to fix that? ’Cause I don’t.”
Gav shook his head and kicked one of the tires.
“So we keep looking,” Tessa said calmly. “Sooner or later—”
She was interrupted by a low voice from the other end of the driveway. “Hey! It’s been a long time since I’ve seen anyone over here!”
We spun around as footsteps thumped over the snow. A young man, tall and broad-shouldered, was lumbering toward us, sniffling and scratching a spot on his hip. His eyes flickered from us to the open door of the truck, and narrowed. “What are you doing to Mr. Mitchard’s truck? You shouldn’t be messing with that!”
He barged toward us, his round face flushed, and I instinctively flinched back, grabbing Meredith’s shoulder. Tobias froze, going white. Leo shifted to Tessa’s side.
Only Gav went forward.
He charged between our sleds a second before the guy reached them, throwing out his arms. “Hold—” he managed. The guy looked like he might have stopped, but he slipped on the slushy ground and crashed into Gav.
They both tumbled over, a pained breath escaping Gav as the guy’s shoulder smacked his chest. I shoved Meredith behind me and ran to help, not entirely sure what I intended to do. The guy who’d come after us rolled to one side, wheezing and then coughing. Gav scrambled up and backward, staying between him and us. He waved me back as I caught up with him. I ignored the gesture.
“He’s sick,” I hissed. “Your scarf!”
Gav’s hand leapt up. He tugged his scarf back over his lower face. Leo and Tessa came up behind us. Tobias hovered by the truck, staring at our attacker as if transfixed.
It wasn’t the guy he was afraid of, it occurred to me. Of course not. It was the virus. The enemy all his army training couldn’t prepare him to fight.
“Man,” the guy said, pushing himself up onto his knees. His jeans were soaked through from the melting snow, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Whoa, I’m dizzy now. Why’d you do that? I just wanted to see what you were doing.”
“Matt?” a voice called. A second figure appeared at the end of the driveway: a young woman, slender and delicate-looking in her puffy coat. She blanched when she caught sight of us and hurried over, covering a sneeze with her gloved hand.
“He ran at us,” Gav said as she took the guy’s arm to help him up. “We’re just passing through—we don’t want to hurt anyone. Just don’t want anyone hurting us, either.”
“I wouldn’t have
hurt
you,” the guy protested. “But you shouldn’t be getting into other people’s trucks. That’s just not right.”
“We were wondering if we could . . . fix it up for him,” I offered, wincing inwardly at the weak lie.
The woman looked at us, tight-lipped. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I understand. Matt, you freaked me out, wandering off like that! You don’t even have a coat on. Let’s get back to the house.”
“But there’s people,” Matt said. “We haven’t seen people in ages! I want to talk to them. Gets kind of boring only having you around, you know.”
Even as he talked, I could see the cold seeping through his fever. He shuddered. “Maybe you all could come back to our place and hang out a bit? We’re lucky—got a generator—it’s nice and warm. There’s that bottle of whiskey Jill’s been making me save.”
The woman, who I guessed was Jill, tugged at his arm. “We can go back and get you some dry clothes, and then these kind people will stop by in a few minutes. Right?” She smiled at us, her sad eyes saying the opposite.
“Sure!” I said, a little too brightly.
“We’d be happy to,” Gav added, and then, softly, “You take care.”
She nodded to us thankfully, and Matt sighed and turned to follow her. “Don’t forget!” he called as they reached the street. “We’ve got lots to talk about. I don’t even know your names yet!”
When we heard their door shut, I let out my breath. Tobias jerked forward, grabbing the rope of his sled.
“Let’s get the hell out of here before that guy decides we’ve taken too long and comes back.”
We didn’t bother checking for more cars. We just walked—through town and on into the stand of pine trees beyond the last few houses. The clouds loomed over us now, stretching across half the sky and dimming the sun. The breeze had risen. I zipped up the collar of my coat and pulled my hat down over my ears. My heart was still thumping.
I peeked sideways at Gav. He was striding along beside me as if nothing was different, as if he hadn’t just thrown himself into what could have been a wrestling match with a guy half a foot taller and at least fifty pounds heavier. A guy who was sick.
I watched the trail appearing from under Tessa’s sled in the snow ahead of me, feeling the minutes slip past, unable to speak. My emotions were so churned up I didn’t know how much I was angry or afraid or just plain upset. Maybe we shouldn’t go into the towns at all anymore. But we were never going to make it the whole way to Ottawa on foot, were we?
The wind whistled through the twigs of the trees. Snowflakes drifted down. One landed on my nose and melted there.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said finally. “You ran right up to him—”
“We didn’t know what he was going to do,” Gav said, an edge in his voice. “He could have wrecked the sleds, grabbed our food— broken the vaccine samples! Isn’t that the most important thing?”
I wanted to say no. It wasn’t more important than his life. But I’d been letting him risk his life for the vaccine just by agreeing to have him come out here with me, hadn’t I?
“I’m not saying it was smart,” he went on. “It’s not like I had time to think it through. It happened in a second—I reacted.”
“I know,” I said. “I just wish your natural reaction was safer.”
He laughed, a little shortly. “Hey,” he said, “at least I did something useful. More than I’ve done since we left the island, anyway.”
“That’s not true,” I said, but maybe it was. On the island he’d had the food runs, the volunteers he kept organized, the amateur firefighters he joined in with when the gang tried to burn down another building. Now there was only one thing we needed: to get to Ottawa. And so far there hadn’t been a single thing Gav could do to make that trip quicker or less unpleasant.
He hadn’t even wanted to be here, not really. He’d wanted to be back there, helping the island recover from the helicopter’s attack.
“Thank you,” I said. “Maybe I’d rather you didn’t do that again, but I’m still glad all our stuff is safe, and us too.”
I took his hand, and the side of his mouth curled up, just slightly. As the trees thinned around us, the sky came into view. The clouds were choking it now, thick and gray. I blinked away the snowflakes that had started plummeting down even faster.
“I think we should get inside soon,” Leo said. “It feels like a real blizzard’s on its way. How far to the next town?”
The map was all but burned into my brain now. “At least a couple miles,” I said, looking around. “There should be farmhouses along the way, though.”
“I think I see a building over there,” Tessa said, pointing. I followed her gaze. When I squinted, I could make out the faint angles of a structure in the distance, over the fields. It looked strangely translucent, as if it wasn’t totally real.
“I don’t know if we should go that far from the road,” I said. “What if we can’t find our way back?”
Her eyes had lit up. “It’s a greenhouse,” she said. “It’ll be warmer inside. I don’t think it’s that far.”
“I’ll take warm,” Tobias said, hunched inside his coat. I looked at Gav and he shrugged, his expression resigned.
“Let’s hurry, then,” I said. The falling snow already felt heavier than it had a moment ago.
The next time I looked up, I couldn’t make out the greenhouse at all. Cold prickled over the skin around my eyes. The freeze was settling in. With each step, my boots either cracked through the forming ice or skidded on it. My sled bumped and jarred. Meredith slid along beside me, pushing out as if she were on skates. Gav had pulled ahead of us.
The snow kept whirling down. It pattered against my face, coating my eyelashes. I tugged my scarf tighter.
Then I blinked, and Tobias and Gav all but disappeared in front of me. Snowflakes clotted the air. It was like swimming through a blank page, nothing but white all around. My breath came heavy through the wool scarf. For a second I felt as if I were drowning.
Behind me, Tessa yelped. I spun around. Leo stopped by her side as she groped along the ground. “I tripped,” she said, a frantic note in her voice. “I lost the rope. Where’s the sled?”
I scanned the ground, but all I could see was snow. “It doesn’t matter,” Leo said after a few seconds. “We’ll come back for it. If we stop to look we’ll lose our direction.”
Meredith was already slipping out of my view. “Mere!” I shouted. Leo and Tessa pushed forward with me. The frigid air pierced through my scarf, stinging down my throat. The rope of my sled dug into my waist, and in that moment I wished I could throw mine away and just run.
Then three figures wavered into sight just ahead. The others had stopped to wait for us.
As we caught up with them, a fourth figure shifted out of the white. It raised an arm, the business end of a revolver pointed straight at Gav’s chest.
“Hello,” a nasal voice said. “Going somewhere?”