Elijah let him putter, only letting out a shaky, breathless laugh. “Sorry,” he said at last. Neil was already shoving things aside in his pack looking for the tube of antibiotic cream. “You were out like a light when I left. Stop that, stop, I’m fine.” Elijah pushed his hands gently away from the pack and zipped it closed again. “Just raspberry brambles and some splinters, that’s all that’s wrong with me. I thought you’d be asleep until I got back. Should have left a note or something, but then I’d have had to go find some paper and who knows how far that would have taken me.” He laughed again, slowly straightening up. “I thought you were ditching me when I saw you rolling down that hill and I about burst a blood vessel trying to catch up.” He patted a hand against his chest, as if his heart was still straining to pump the blood through him. His laugh stopped abruptly. “You— weren’t, were you, brother? If you want me to go you can just ask me t—”
“Shit, no,” said Neil. “I thought you maybe decided I was just dead weight after yesterday. You don’t know Joan or Randi, no reason for you to be out here. You have people that care about you. People that want you back. It would make sense that you thought this— I was crazy and just turn around.”
Elijah shook his head. “I’m not going back. Not unless we go back together. You think I have people who care, and maybe I do. But most of them don’t know what that means. They don’t really understand what I’ve done, what I’ve been. I don’t have many Cured friends. Most of you don’t ever want to see me again after the camp. The Cured just want to pretend it was a distant dream. Something that didn’t really happen to them. That they just— sleepwalked from the time they got sick to the time they entered the City. But you haven’t pushed me away. You know what I’ve done, near as I can put it into words anyway. And have done enough yourself to make a good guess at the rest. I came with you, Neil, because you still care what happens to people. People you don’t know— or didn’t at first. Thomas and Danica. Shay. The man who jumped into the fire pit. The strangers in a long-crashed bus. The people left in the quarantine camp. Me. I know why you didn’t want to do what we did yesterday. I know. I was nervous at first, leaving the Cure camp. I thought maybe I was making a mistake. That there were still people I could help. And there are, back there. Sure. For a little while, until they decide I’m too burnt out. But they aren’t the only ones. And I’m not so sure that I’m really helping. The City— isn’t perfect. We’re always going to be— less in the City. Less than the Immunes. Unreliable. Crazy. Dependent on handouts. That’s how they’ll always see us, no matter what we do to prove them wrong.” Elijah stopped, rubbed at one of the long scratches on his skin. “Don’t know about you, but I’ve been treated as less my whole life. Long before I got sick. And I’m tired. This plague was terrible. We all wish that it didn’t happen. But now that it’s done, the City and most of the Immunes just want things to get back to normal as soon as they can. There’s comfort in normal. Security. Even when normal means you’re barely hanging on. Everything’s changed and some people don’t like that. But I keep thinking, if everything changed for the worse, then why can’t everything change again? For the better. Maybe we don’t have to live like that anymore. Where someone’s always less. I know maybe it’ll be the same when we find your family. Maybe you and I will still be less. Or if we found more people. Maybe it wouldn’t change. But it could. And us, you and me, not treating each other like less, that’s a good start. And maybe how it starts is how it stays. Maybe it’s just been inertia this whole time. And now that we’ve stalled out, maybe we can change direction. I’m not going back. I’m going with you, instead. You don’t have to worry that I’ll just disappear.” He waved at the trailer behind him. “I just went to get that. I saw it yesterday when we passed that submarine, sitting off in the brambles. Didn’t think much of it then, but your leg— we’re going to need to take it easy a few days until the scab toughens up. I just didn’t expect it to be quite as much of a pain to get it out of the brambles. Or the deck planking it was sitting on to be quite so rotten. Or for you to wake up before I got back.” He brushed off some shards of rotten wood from his pant legs. Then he stuck out a hand toward Neil. “I hope we’re friends, Neil. I’d like to be. Not in spite of what you did yesterday, but because of it.”
“Of course we’re friends,” said Neil, grasping his hand. The weight of the faith Elijah seemed to be putting into him unsettled Neil slightly. “But I’m just a cook, Elijah. I’m just trying to find my daughter. I don’t think I can develop a new civilization or anything— maybe Joan—”
“You don’t think we can because that’s what the old world said. That we had to be anointed by God or make a million dollars or inspire a revolution first. I’m not asking you to do or be anything other than what you are. We’re not going to build a complex society or anything. We’re just going to live as well as we can. Be neighbors. Maybe we’ll find a few more neighbors. Maybe not. Just stay my friend, that’s all I want. Just someone who knows who I am and tolerates me anyway. Even if you’re the only one who does.”
“I won’t be the only one,” said Neil, but pulled him into an awkward hug anyway. “So, how’s the trailer supposed to help us?” he asked a moment later, releasing him.
“We’ll hook the bikes together. You can ride in the trailer, rest the leg,” said Elijah.
Neil laughed. “I may not be as solid as I was a few years ago, but I’m gaining. There’s no way you can haul me, too, not up the hills that are coming. If it gets bad, I can walk awhile instead of the bike.” He hesitated when he saw Elijah frown slightly. “But the packs— I won’t object if you want to haul them on the trailer.”
“If you hurt yourself it’ll take us even longer to reach your cabin,” Elijah warned him.
“I know. And if you overtire yourself it’ll take just as long. I’ll be careful.”
27
“How far is it again?” asked Elijah, staring up at the dead neon sign that dangled crookedly above the store entrance.
“Another twenty-two miles. And this is the last big one before then. Next one’s another thirty miles past. I mean— there are convenience stores, a couple of old antique shops and a handful of restaurants. We could go to one of those. But if they’re wiped out—”
“No. The water’s one thing. Plenty of ponds on the map between here and there. But the gas to boil any water we do find, that’s going to be harder to track down. And if we get there and there’s not a large food surplus, Joan’s not going to look too kindly on us raiding her stores either way. And winter clothes. Bike tires. Batteries—”
“What happened to just getting what we went in for?” asked Neil.
“That’s what we’re doing. Making a shopping list. The point of that rule is to stop us wandering or trying to carry too much at once.”
“Well, speaking of carrying it, we’re never going to fit all this on the bike trailer.”
“Good idea, we’ll get another trailer,” said Elijah glancing down at Neil’s leg. A shiny pink crescent crossed the middle of his calf. “If you think you can haul some extra.”
“It’s been a week, Elijah. It’s closed, there’s no infection. I’ve been asking you for two days to swap the trailer with me,” said Neil.
Elijah sighed. “Guess we can’t put this off any longer. Stay together. You’ve been here before, better if you lead us. Quicker.” He pushed his bike into the corner of the overhang.
“We aren’t taking the bikes with us?”
“We’ll move faster without them. And if we get in trouble, they’ll be ready for us to just take off, instead of trying to run through aisles with them.”
“But someone could take them—”
“We haven’t seen any signs of anyone. And in the end, it’s just stuff. Important stuff, but replaceable. Just like what we’re about to get. We get in trouble, just drop it. Remember the rules. If we get in real trouble, meet me at that old phone store over there.” He pointed across the large parking lot. “Nobo
dy’s going to be scavenging there. I’ll find you there if we get separated.”
“Okay,” Neil agreed, parking his own bike next to Elijah’s. Elijah yanked on the large glass door and muttered in surprise when it opened easily.
“They’re usually locked,” he said softly.
“Nothing’s ever locked up here,” said Neil.
“Still— best be as quiet as we can. Might be a frequent scavenging spot. Or Infected could have wandered in,” Elijah whispered. Neil crept past him into the dark store.
It was alarming how quickly the light from the front doors diminished and failed in the shadows just past the dead registers. Neil clicked on his flashlight. “Where first?”
“Bikes first, the trailer will help us haul the rest,” Elijah said.
Neil swung the light down the large aisle and headed for the back. Racks of clothing erupted out of the dark and sparkled in the passing beam of light before melting away again. Neil disliked the murky voids that opened on either side every time they passed an endcap and started to sweep the sides with his flashlight before Elijah gently stopped his hand.
“We don’t know who else might be in here,” he said. “We have to use the light to get to where we’re going but if we keep it low and just where we need, we might not attract anything. I know it’s… eerie walking through here, but I’m here at your back. I’m not going to let anything jump us. We’ll hear it first.”
He still flinched every time he felt the cooler air as they passed an aisle opening, but Neil kept the light pointed toward the floor in front of them. There was an overturned cart just at the end of the toy section. Bright pink baby doll boxes scattered across the aisle along with a few stuffed bears, their shiny button eyes glinting in the flashlight. Neil stepped uneasily over them, holding out his arm to keep Elijah from tripping over the cart’s wheels. A thud somewhere far to the left made them both crouch. Elijah clutched Neil’s hand and they waited for more sounds. After several seconds, Elijah’s hand relaxed. Neil looked back toward the front door which was only a soft glow from back here. But Elijah patted his shoulder and he turned back toward the bikes. When they reached the bike trailers, they found all but one in convenient boxes for self-assembly. Neil swore softly. “Didn’t plan on sitting on the floor of an abandoned department store cursing at a set of illegible instructions trying to put together a shitty kit,” he muttered.
“We’ll take the display,” said Elijah.
Neil pulled experimentally on it. It was locked into place. He shone the light on the rack. “I was hoping it would be just one of those twist bar things, but it’s a real lock. Damn it.” He looked back at Elijah. “Break it? Go searching around the store for a set of keys? Or sit down and assemble another one?”
“Hold on,” said Elijah, fumbling in his pants pocket. “Shine the light on the lock there.” He pulled out a pocketknife.
“I don’t think you’re going to be able to cut it off with that,” said Neil. “We can go a few aisles over to the hardware section and get a saw if that’s—”
“I’m not going to cut it. That’ll make too much noise. It’s a lock pick set.” He knelt down, squinting at the lock before choosing a slim rod from the pocketknife. “Security guard, remember? Half that job was helping clients get back into their property when they lost their keys.” He moved Neil’s flashlight slightly and then bent over the lock. “Plus the scav team. Kind of a required skill these days.” He fiddled with the tool for a few seconds. “And these ones aren’t all that complicated. Just meant to keep someone from grabbing and running. It’s not Fort Knox or anything.”
“Why didn’t you do that back at the bridge? Or the rest stop?”
Elijah shrugged. “I was a little stressed. You were bleeding pretty bad and everything that had just happened— I didn’t think my hands’d be steady enough. And it still takes me a few minutes. Not exactly speedy at this.” It did, indeed, take Elijah what seemed like a long time. Neil kept the flashlight on the lock, but he kept looking out into the dark store as if he’d see something sneaking up on them. He could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck before the lock clicked and the trailer was free.
Elijah pulled the trailer easily behind them to the camping section. They were stacking half a dozen small propane cylinders in the trailer when there was another series of bumps from deeper in the store. Neil covered the flashlight lens and Elijah froze.
“Maybe we should go,” whispered Neil. “Just groceries left, we can—”
A plaintive wail floated up far to the front of the store. Neil laughed at himself and uncovered the light. “Cat. That scared me so bad I almost had to change pants and it was a cat.”
Elijah didn’t look comforted. “How’d a cat get in here? Why the hell would it have wandered in here in the first place?”
Neil shrugged. “Maybe the cargo bay is open. Enough for a cat anyway. Probably an army of mice in here eating up the cereal. The cat likely followed them in after a while. Perfect place to hunt, that cat’s living the life of Riley in here.”
“Yeah,” Elijah agreed reluctantly. “Yeah, you’re probably right. This place is getting to me. I’ll feel better when we’re done with this. Let’s move on.”
The erratic thumps continued occasionally as they found some winter gear and shoes, but it didn’t make Neil jump anymore. They found the cat in the canned vegetables. Sleek and fat, its orange fur bristling when the light hit it. It hissed loudly at them and raced off. Neil ignored it, trying to shove a case of water in among the other stuff crowding the trailer. Should have grabbed that cart. Going to have to carry the rest until we get back to the other trailer. Shouldn’t be too—
“Why is it so fat?” Elijah said.
“There’s got to be hundreds of mice in here. And he looks like the only cat so far.”
“I’ve never seen a mouser get fat like that. That cat’s being fed.”
Neil frowned at the second case of water. It wasn’t going to fit. “It probably got into the cat food bags at some point. In a big box store like this, it could eat for years. Do we really need the second case? There’s an old hand-pump well at the cabin. Might need a prime but we only have thirty miles to—”
A light blazed from the left corner of the store ahead and Neil stopped. “A cat can’t open the back door like that,” hissed Elijah, grabbing the flashlight and clicking it off.
Heavy footsteps and a soft clucking followed the sudden light. “Where’ve you run off too, Tigger?” called a voice.
“They’re well,” said Neil excitedly. “Safe! We should—”
Elijah yanked him down when he tried to stand.
“Well is not the same as safe. Wait. Even if they are okay to approach, it’s not in here. We’d scare the hell out of her, two scarred people in the dark jumping out at her. We need to go. Find her outside, in the sun.”
Neil nodded and Elijah picked up the trailer. “Lead us out if you can,” said Elijah. “Keep the light off until we’re a few aisles farther.”
More footsteps and the voice called back to someone. “Can’t find Tigger. I heard him hunting in here when I came in.”
A second voice sighed. “I’m not turning on the damn generator for a cat, Sal. He’ll come when he wants. Let’s just grab the tarps so we can get the hell back to the field. I’ve got four more hours of daylight to get the potatoes dug. Besides, this place always gives me the creeps. I don’t know why Joe won’t let us just clear it and store the stuff closer to home.”
“Maybe if that barn ever gets finished, he will. There’s no place to store it all right now.”
Neil was tempted to turn around, comforted by the easy conversation, but Elijah pushed him gently. He’s right. No way to start a friendly meeting, scaring the hell out of someone like that. We’ll go around, meet them in the parking lo—
“Turn on the genny, Sal,” said the second voice quietly.
“Thought you said you didn’t want to for a cat.”
“Someo
ne’s been in here. Propane’s wiped out. Turn on the genny. Gonna find the fuckers if they’re still here. Looting no good—”
“Go, go, Neil,” Elijah hissed in his ear. Neil eased the case of water to the floor of the aisle and grabbed Elijah’s hand. He crouched and ran forward, praying not to run into anything. The trailer wheels were quiet but they sounded like rusty, screeching trolley wheels to Neil. A low rumble swelled from the back and a few seconds later, the lights overhead flickered. Once, twice and then a blaze of bright white. Neil squinted and stood up to run. No point trying to hide now. Footsteps darted and squeaked behind them, obviously checking each aisle. They made it as far as the jewelry counter before the first blast of a shotgun boomed through the air and shattered the glass display case on Neil’s left. He instinctively ducked but kept moving. Elijah’s hand was sweaty and slipping. Neil clenched it tight.
“Filthy thieves! Gonna gut you!” Another boom, this time it came from just ahead.
“They’re trying to cut us off,” said Elijah, tugging him in another direction.
The trailer rattled behind them. Another gunshot shredded the pile of yellow bath towels on a nearby shelf. “Leave it!” cried Neil. “Let it go.”
“Get around them Sal! They’ve got food!”
“Drop it, Elijah!” Neil shouted. The trailer rattled and clanged as the hitch tipped forward and dropped with a metallic ringing. A ceramic bowl on a nearby shelf shattered in a spray of sharp chips and Elijah yelped. Neil yanked him forward when he faltered and didn’t look back. “I’ll fix it, I’ll fix it, just get out of here,” he muttered, not even certain whether he was talking to Elijah or himself. He only knew that sound meant that Elijah was probably hurt. They rounded the corner and plowed through the racks of clothing. “Almost there,” he said. Elijah squeezed his hand but said nothing. Neil tried not to imagine him with a shard of ceramic in his throat or a hand pressed over a punctured eyeball. They came face to face with a woman at the registers. She was struggling to stuff a shell into a shotgun. He rammed forward, sending her sprawling and sprinted through the registers. They were out in the bright sun. The glass door shattered behind them.
Before The Cure (Book 2): The Infected Page 28
