Survival Instinct (Book 5): Social Instinct

by Stittle, Kristal

  Deciding that the sheets were clean enough after only about half the time she should have spent on them, Shannon hauled the sodden mass around. She brought them to a path that received a decent amount of light during the day and draped them over the wooden rails that had been built specifically for laundry. When Shannon ran back to the bridge, her shirt was damp but she didn’t care.

  “I want to cross,” she told Paris.

  “You and all these other people,” Paris told her, gesturing to the crowd Shannon had pushed past. “Everyone has to wait.”

  Looking up and across the gorge, Shannon could tell that there was a gathering in the central cave. The new people had said something to Horace and Chuck that had convinced them to bring them here. Who were they? Shannon was desperate to know, but until they were certain the newcomers could be trusted, the home warren on this side of the river was to be cut off. Dropping her eyes, Shannon watched the fishing platforms coming in and got an idea. She pushed her way back through the people waiting for the bridge to be lowered, and then ran down to a shore point.

  “Rocky! Rocky, don’t get out yet!” she called to him.

  Curious as to why he was being yelled at, Rocky paddled over to Shannon. “What’s going on?”

  “New people, up in the central cave. They won’t lower the bridge. Can you take me across?”

  Rocky knew how much she enjoyed meeting new people. “All right, hop in.”

  Shannon giggled as she awkwardly climbed onto his lap. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but was smiling too. He was also waiting for her to turn eighteen. They had one more year to go. Shannon knew she was lucky to find someone willing to wait until she was old enough for courting. Rocky was already twenty, and plenty of single young women had made passes at him. Single young men too: Rocky was the kind of guy that appealed to just about everyone.

  “We might get in trouble for this,” Rocky told her as he pushed them across the river, fighting against the current that wanted to sweep them into the rapids with its hungry jagged rocks.

  “I need to cross the river and they wouldn’t lower the bridge. Just tell people it was an emergency.”

  “Yeah? The emergency of you wanting to meet the new people?”

  “You know, I saw them first. I was out in the stone tree looking for herds. The only reason I didn’t get to go out to meet them was because I had to do my chores.”

  “Should have done those first thing in the morning.”

  “But then I wouldn’t have seen them following the unseen path.”

  “They were following the path?” Rocky wondered as they bumped into a shore point on the opposite side of the river and Shannon scrambled out.

  “Exciting, isn’t it? Thanks for the ride.” Shannon reached back and squeezed his hand. They weren’t supposed to have any physical contact, but she thought people would be too distracted to notice. She then turned and bounded up the cliffside through its tunnels and along its paths.

  In the central cave, plenty of dwellers had gathered to see and greet the new people. Weaving through them, Shannon heard Evans’ name mentioned. She had liked Evans, and was glad to hear that his name wasn’t being mentioned as a dead man. Apparently he had sent the newcomers, from a community that wanted to reach out to others.

  Shannon finally made her way to the front of the crowd. The three strangers were sitting on a log bench, drinking water. Tired, dirty, and blasted by the sun, they looked ready to fall asleep for seven years.

  “We started out with six of us,” one of the men was saying. “Three of our friends died along the way.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Horace sympathized.

  Shannon listened to the story of zombies, and wild dogs, and an accident in the hills. One of the men did most of the talking, while the other man and the woman merely drank their water and ate the fish when it was offered. Eventually Horace’s interview was complete and Shannon saw her opening.

  “Hi, I’m Shannon,” she said, stepping forward and offering her hand.

  “I’m Lenny,” the speaker introduced himself. “This is Shaidi and Winchester.”

  “I’m sorry about your friends, but I’m glad you made it.”

  “We’re glad to be here,” Lenny agreed.

  “I’m the one who first spotted you following the unseen trail. Did Evans tell you about it?”

  Lenny nodded as he ate some fish. “Even knowing about it, it’s hard to spot.”

  “Hence the name,” Shannon joked. The unseen trail was a series of carefully chosen and placed rocks that led to the top of the cliff path. Anyone who didn’t know what to look for, wouldn’t recognize it. “So you came from beside the sea?”

  “We did.”

  “Shannon!” her mom barked. “Come over here.”

  “Oops, I think I’m in trouble.” Shannon grinned. “If you need anything, ask for me. I know everything about this place and would love to hear about yours.”

  “Thank you, I think we’re all right for now.”

  “Shannon!”

  “Coming, Mom!” Shannon turned and walked over to the woman, who started berating her for this and that. Chores, Rocky, running along the paths and through the tunnels. There was always something for Shannon’s mom to get upset about. Shannon just listened for a while and then began the process of soothing her with promises they both knew wouldn’t last a week. Especially with newcomers. Shannon was eager to hear all they had to say. While she loved living on the cliffs and had no desire to leave, that didn’t mean she couldn’t also love hearing about far away places and how the people there lived.

  Section 6:

  Homecoming

  31: Claire

  9 Days After the Bombing

  The water might have been low enough for them to leave by nightfall, but no one wanted to go out into the dark. Claire had managed to nap for an hour or so while guarding the room with Larson, but it hadn’t been a restful sleep. Her dreams were disturbed, full of rats and silent screams. She was still exhausted that night, but she wasn’t looking forward to sleeping.

  When the others returned from scavenging, they reported nothing about the mannequin man. A few more of his traps had been found, but there was nothing to indicate that he had survived the fall. Nothing new appeared in places they had already been, and there were no strange sounds.

  Claire volunteered to take the first night shift. While the others slept, she sat by the window, occasionally getting up to peer into the dark hallway through the peephole. She found herself strangely hoping to hear a thump in the apartment upstairs. Apparently the silence was worse than the strange noises.

  After trading off with Rose, she fell asleep within minutes. This time she had no dreams, and didn’t wake up until Danny began to gently shake her shoulder.

  “Come on, time to get up,” he spoke softly.

  “What’s going on?” Claire whispered, and not entirely on purpose as her voice took a little longer to wake up.

  “We’re heading out soon. I thought you’d want some time to pack and eat.”

  “Oh. Okay, thanks.”

  When she went out to pee over the balcony, Rose silently accompanied her. Claire wanted to ask her what was wrong, for she was usually so much more talkative in the mornings, but was afraid of the answer. She didn’t want to hear that the others were worried about her. Maybe they weren’t; maybe it was just a quiet morning, but still. She couldn’t help but think about what Danny had said about her not being cut out to be a scavenger. Not yet, anyway. Did he mention these thoughts to the others while they had been searching the rooms? What kind of conversation might she have managed to sleep through that morning?

  Everyone’s bag was stuffed to the gills, and everyone’s pockets were overflowing when it was time to leave. The laundry sack they had found, and a few other bags, were also crammed full and were either hung down people’s chests or tucked under an arm. The water hadn’t completely drained away yet, so they had wrapped everything in plastic bags and tape. It was als
o still raining, so Claire draped her poncho over herself, hoping to at least keep her head dry.

  As they reached the ground floor, they had to slow down, taking one careful step at a time since they couldn’t see what lurked below the water level. Some floating wooden ornaments clacked together as Claire stepped into their midst.

  “Warmer than I thought it’d be,” Rose commented as she slid deeper just ahead of Claire.

  “Hurricanes draw their power from warm water,” Bryce spoke up from the back of the line.

  “Is that true?” Rose didn’t know.

  “According to the Discovery channel it is,” Danny told her from just behind Claire.

  “You still remember what you learned from the Discovery channel?” Jon asked.

  “Some of it.”

  “Okay, but I learned it from actually paying attention in class on the Diana,” Bryce said.

  “I rarely paid attention,” Larson admitted from his place ahead of Bryce.

  “That’s because you knew I would always help you with your homework,” Bryce ribbed him.

  By the time Claire stepped off the last step, the water reached her lower ribs. She held her arms up out of the water instinctively, but she knew that she would have to lower them soon when they tired. At least it turned out that her backpack was slightly buoyant, taking a little bit of the weight off her shoulders, unlike the messenger bag slung across her.

  “We should have built a raft for our stuff,” Danny commented as they moved out of the stairwell. He carried the awkward laundry sack, sometimes by hugging it and at other times by throwing it over a shoulder.

  “Too late now,” Jon told him, slogging his way forward, toward the grey light, after turning off his flashlight.

  When Claire looked ahead, she saw that most of a rather large tree had been uprooted and smashed through the front doors. Jon found a way through by breaking some branches and ducking under others to head out into the rain.

  Once outside the apartment building, they no longer needed to walk in a straight line but continued to do so anyway. Despite Jon’s warnings, Claire often found herself banging her shins against mysterious submerged objects. Everyone tripped a few times, dunking themselves in the muddy water before being able to get their feet back under them. Several times they had to pull one another back upright. Claire was disappointed that she hadn’t been able to keep at least her head dry.

  There was a current that frequently caused something unseen to brush against Claire’s legs. Each time, her heart jumped, as she wondered whether it might be a zombie, or an alligator, or something else with teeth.

  The ground was not level. Sunken detritus resulted in a lot of up and down, and during the low points, Claire was more swimming than walking. Stuff that was floating bumped into them. Claire hoped none of it would turn out to be the mannequin man.

  “How do you know where we’re goin’?” Rose asked Jon.

  “Well, we need to go east, so I’m walking east. You got a better idea?” He grunted as he pushed a floating mattress to one side.

  “No.”

  After about an hour of walking, they changed positions. Jon dropped back to the rear of the line, and Rose began leading the way, pushing aside debris and calling back warnings when she came across suspect footing. Another hour later and it was Claire’s turn. It was hard work being the lead. Some of the floating debris was difficult to shove aside, which included stuff just beneath the surface that snarled around her legs. She just kept heading east, occasionally referring to the compass that Jon had given her to make sure that she hadn’t wandered off course. That hour felt longer than the others, and she was extremely grateful when it was her turn to drop back, allowing Danny to take charge. Walking was easiest at the back of the line and she wished she could stay there all day.

  After Larson’s turn was over, they agreed to a short lunch break. There was a mound of collapsed housing they could sit on. No one spoke during the break. They were all drenched and sullen, despite their trip being rather successful, all things considered. They were bringing home a fairly large number of MREs, which should feed everyone for a day. At least, Claire was hoping they were carrying that much. She had never been in charge of food rationing, and so wasn’t entirely sure. She should probably learn more about it.

  When they got moving again, Bryce led the way, followed by Jon. They noticed that either the water level had been lowering all day or they had finally begun to reach higher ground. Claire didn’t have to half swim, as the flood water sloshed around her upper thighs, although it made some of the debris a little more frustrating to move. Once the water reached only to her knees it was much easier. They had definitely gone up a gradual rise, and Claire breathed a sigh of relief as the buildings around them were more intact.

  The shallower water actually enabled the area to smell worse. More rot and decay were exposed, including dead animals trapped in the wreckage. Everyone kept a sharp eye out for movement, wary of zombies and rats. Claire startled when she saw a mannequin sticking out through a car window, but it hadn’t been placed there deliberately. A clothing store nearby had had all of its windows broken, and sodden clothes were scattered about along with their various displays. They passed several more mannequins in that area, most of them in pieces.

  Claire was starving, but no one called for them to stop again until the sun began to sink. They found a restaurant with an apartment above it and made their way inside. Stepping around tables and chairs and broken dishes, they eventually found their way up. Everyone found a place for their bedding, and then they hung their clothes off whatever was available.

  “I don’t think my feet will ever be dry again,” Claire commented once she peeled off her socks. Her feet were pale and wrinkled, and she rubbed them as she sat inside her sleeping bag, wearing only her underwear and a sports bra. Her hands, having spent all day in drenched gloves, weren’t any better.

  “I hear that,” Rose agreed.

  Food was passed around but it was barely enough to stop Claire’s stomach from growling. It was strange to be carrying so much food, and to be so hungry at the same time. Unlike their departure from the container yard, there was nothing to forage while they walked. No overrun gardens to find, no wild berries to pick; they weren’t even going to stumble across a nest of eggs. The water had swept it all away.

  “My legs are going to die tomorrow,” Larson lamented from where he and his sleeping bag were sprawled.

  “It won’t be too bad,” Jon commented, perhaps to lift Larson’s spirits, but also maybe to lift his own. “They’ll hurt when we start out, but the exercise will soon loosen them up again.”

  “Or they’ll seize and I’ll face plant into a tire,” Larson quipped.

  “Yeah, or that.”

  Hearing Jon joke with Larson was strange for Claire, who, throughout the day, kept remembering the way he had cut the mannequin man’s rope with zero hesitation. She understood that she was struggling to reconcile the boy she knew with the man he now was. Danny’s words had haunted her all day, I don’t think you should change. They were sweet, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he meant more by them. Was he worried that she would become like Jon? Did he think that what Jon had done was wrong, but he didn’t want to say anything because of Jon’s anger? Her thoughts whirled around and around, fading away only once her exhausted body dragged her mind down into sleep.

  ***

  Claire had no idea what woke her. Maybe it was a dream, but she couldn’t recall having one. She was asleep one minute, and awake the next, sitting up with her heart racing. The apartment was pitch black; there wasn’t even moonlight lining the curtains. She strained her ears in the dark, listening for anything that might have drawn her from slumber. The others were breathing gently on either side of her, and the wind rustled something outside. They hadn’t posted a guard, no longer believing that they needed one as they had on that first night. That first night when they had woken up to mannequins outside the window.

&
nbsp; Snatching up her flashlight, Claire brought the beam to life. She thrust the light into every corner. No rats, no zombies, and, most importantly, no mannequins. The door was still locked, and the furniture they had placed in front of it hadn’t moved. She next shone her light on Rose to her left, and then on the boys to her right. They were all present, and all breathing. Bryce mumbled something in his sleep and rolled away from the light.

  Still not satisfied, Claire slipped out of her sleeping bag and went to the window, turning her flashlight off as she grabbed the curtains. There was nothing to see outside. It was just as dark out there as it was within. A faint patch of clouds could be seen, but that was it. Everything else was black nothingness. Still, Claire continued to stand there, her eyes adjusting. She wasn’t sure whether she hoped to hear something moving around out there or not.

  For several minutes she stood at the window without hearing or seeing anything out of the ordinary. The sudden energy she had been shocked with upon waking wore off, and she was left feeling weary. Not just tired, but exhausted with everything. She wished she could just teleport home. She wished that home was still the Black Box. She didn’t want to be out here anymore.

  To make her way back to her sleeping bag, Claire flicked her flashlight back on. As the beam passed over Jon again, he blinked and squinted, coming awake.

  What’s wrong? he asked in sign. He probably couldn’t even make out who he was talking to.

  Claire settled into her sleeping bag before turning the light so that they could make out one another in the dark. She told him about her sudden awakening, and about how she couldn’t find anything wrong.