The Roaming (Book 2): The Toll

by Hegarty, W. J.

  It had been eight days since they fled Pepperbush, and Vanessa was still barefoot and wearing a filthy shirt she found among some wreckage miles back. The shirt smelled slightly better than the one Bernie gave her, but the woman was in desperate need of new attire.

  “Hey, this is cute.” Lillian handed Vanessa a small tank top.

  Vanessa squeezed into the extremely small shirt, its tight fabric hugging every curve and line of her torso. She looked herself up and down in a cracked full-length mirror, hands pressed against her exposed flat stomach, the shirt ending a few inches above her belly button. “I like it. Thanks, Lily, but it’s not very practical, is it? It’ll do for now, though. God, this other thing smelled horrible when I found it. Good riddance.” Vanessa balled up the grimy shirt and threw it behind a darkened display case.

  “No, it’s not very practical, but I’ll keep looking. A light jacket might not be too bad. You could wear it over that and take it off when we’re not running for our lives. Whoever got here first sure didn’t leave much,” Lillian replied.

  “I can’t fit into any of this, guys.” Casandra held up a tiny tee to her huge belly.

  “Just bring it with us, Cas. After you pop out the little one, we’ll all be sharing clothes. You’ll see,” Vanessa suggested.

  “Tropical beaches, bikinis, and martinis, huh?” Lillian held up a skimpy yellow bikini.

  “Yeah right, more like this,” Casandra said as she lifted a corner of a tarp duct-taped to a cracked window.

  “Oh, stop it. You’re not even that big.” Lillian disregarded Casandra’s attempt at self-loathing.

  “As a matter of fact, try this on. Here, come with me.” Vanessa pulled Casandra by the arm and led her to the changing rooms.

  “Why did I even follow you guys in here?” Casandra said with a sigh.

  “Hush.” Vanessa slammed the curtain shut.

  Lillian changed out of her bloodied clothes into something a bit more practical for travel: a tight long-sleeve yellow shirt over jeans and boots. The less loose fabric, the better, she imagined. She wouldn’t give the infected anything to grab onto. She just wished her mother would do the same and change out of that damn dress.

  Casandra inched from the dressing room with Vanessa close behind, lest the pregnant woman try to turn and flee.

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

  “Quiet, you. Keep walking,” Vanessa instructed.

  “Whoa, you look amazing, Cas.” Lillian’s eyes went wide. She clapped and bounced in place as Casandra walked an imaginary runway.

  Casandra’s ear-to-ear smile was unmistakable, even after she raised her hands to her face, eyes welling with tears of joy. She returned to the storefront, bathed in light, a yellow string bikini accentuating her pregnant frame. She cradled her stomach lovingly, smiling at Vanessa’s handiwork. “Thank you,” she managed through the tears.

  “Come here,” Vanessa said.

  The three women stood there, huddled together in the center of a clothing shop in a strip mall far off the beaten path. None of them knew what town they were even in, and it didn’t matter in the slightest. Right then, trying on clothes with friends in a ruined store, Casandra was overcome with joy. Lillian held up another suit for the expectant mother. Casandra posed, her hips out to the side as she held the new bikini against the one she wore. Vanessa topped her off with a large, brimmed, straw sunhat. The three women’s banter boosted each other’s spirits, a much-needed rise from the despair brought on by the road.

  “You got it, girl,” said Lillian.

  “I never lost it,” Casandra replied.

  “That’s what I want to hear, ladies.” Vanessa joined the other two in picking out future outfits for Casandra.

  Outside the boutique, Radzinski peered through the window. “Goddamn, are you seeing this, man?” he asked a passing Jeremiah.

  “I’ve got other things on my mind. If you prefer to keep yours in the gutter, then by all means, carry on.”

  “You’re such a buzzkill, Jerry. For Christ’s sake, would you live a little? This is the hottest thing I’ve seen in months.”

  “Like I said, enjoy yourself, and when you’re finished, zip it up. Miller’s been looking for you.”

  “Holy shit, I think that was a joke. It was, wasn’t it? Dammit Jerry, I knew you had it in you.” Radzinski waved off the thought of meeting Miller and returned to his show.

  Jeremiah wasn’t impressed with the man’s immaturity. Disregarding a request from Miller was to be expected, though letting his guard down for a peep show gave the medic pause.

  Markus chucked an empty soda can down the trash-strewn parking lot. “The pumps are all dry, man. Same with the store. Not even a fucking candy bar left. Someone beat us to it. You were right, Tobias. We should have put Pepperbush in our rearview weeks ago.”

  “That’s what I’m hearing from everyone. The places that aren’t burnt out have been thoroughly looted. We’re not going to find anything here, but none of that matters now, Markus. This is where we’re at and we have to make the best of it,” Tobias suggested.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still sucks, though.”

  “It does, but you need to keep your mind off of it. Why don’t you grab Bernie and check out those cars over there? See if we can at least siphon some gas from them. Grab the batteries, too, and anything else you think might come in handy.”

  While most of the civilians kept themselves busy by rummaging through ransacked stores, Miller was busy discussing options with some of the others. “Anything we find close to the highway like this is going to be similarly looted already,” he said. “I think we’re looking at two options here. We can stay on the highway all the way to the Outer Banks and get there quicker or take the back roads and maybe find supplies.”

  “If we don’t find anything on those back roads, the extra miles could leave us out of gas and stranded in the middle of nowhere,” Marisol suggested.

  “That’s a possibility I’m inclined to take my chances on. Middle of nowhere means less infected.”

  “Keeping that glass half full, I see,” Rachel added.

  “We have to,” Miller replied. “That being said, it’s going to be dark soon, maybe an hour of light left, so I want input. Now we can huddle up in and around the cars as usual or make use of that furniture store over there.”

  “The upside is there’re beds for everyone and then some. Problem is, if we have to bug out, we’re that much farther away from the caravan,” Rachel added.

  “Be nice to sleep in a proper bed,” said Sam.

  “I see no reason why we can’t stay here, at least for a few nights,” Marisol replied.

  “Then we’re agreed?” Miller asked.

  “Yeah, I think this will be good for all of us,” said Tobias.

  “No arguments here,” Seth responded.

  “Good, then inform your people and start picking spots.” Miller abandoned the group as it continued marveling over beds to rejoin Soraya out by the caravan.

  “We stay, yes?” Soraya asked.

  “Yes, we stay.” Miller touched her shoulder. “Why don’t you and Aiko take first watch. Then get some sleep. I’ll see to setting us up with a few bunks.”

  • • •

  Miller and Jeremiah patrolled the parking lot on midnight watch with Tobias in tow. Most of the others had already turned in for the night, exhausted from so many days of travel.

  “I don’t like this at all, Miller.” Jeremiah’s head was on a swivel. “Staying overnight in a place like this, out in the open in a strip mall no less, is far too dangerous. Any number of things could go wrong, not the least of which is the infected surrounding us with our guard down. This place is an open invitation for disaster.”

  “I don’t like it, either, but it’s really our only option. It was stay here or travel at night, and I will not do that. Not with so many civilians.”

  “Wait a minute,” Tobias interrupted. “You’re not suggesting t
hose things are following us, are you? All the way from Pepperbush? I would have voted against staying here if I thought there was a chance of the infected catching up with us.”

  “Not at all, no,” said Jeremiah. “We’ve covered far too much ground with the vehicles for them to catch up with us at this point. That particular group is the least of my worries.”

  “Oh, okay. Good. That’s a relief. Then what’s the problem? We have a clear view of anything approaching, and we even have doors we can lock at night.”

  “Jeremiah’s concerned about roving gangs of looters,” Miller admitted reluctantly. “We saw quite a bit of that in Philadelphia. It got real bad, fast.”

  “I’ll never understand the mentality of people stealing TVs and game consoles during an emergency. Doesn’t make any sense.” Tobias scanned the nearby throughway, half-expecting to see a mob of looters descending upon them.

  “It wasn’t like that at all,” Jeremiah said. “It was almost as if on some primal level the people knew this was something different. Like they sensed it, felt it. It wasn’t luxuries they were after. It was the shoes on your feet, the gear or medicine in your pack. They wanted everything you had, and they’d kill you for it to avoid the conflict.”

  “My God, is it really that bad out there? Don’t they realize we should all work together to figure this thing out?” Tobias was confused. The notion of killing an innocent was alien to him. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it, no matter how hard he tried.

  “Jeremiah’s right. If—” Miller corrected himself. “When we run into a group of survivors out here on the road, and we will, let us do the negotiating, but be ready to act.”

  “Human nature dictates that desperate people are capable of nearly anything to ensure their survival,” Jeremiah added.

  “Well, that’s comforting,” Tobias replied.

  Tobias returned to his family’s corner of the furniture store. Two beds were pushed side by side, one for him and Isabelle and the other for Tommy, who was fast asleep. Lillian was sleeping somewhere else in the building with Vanessa and Casandra. The Burkes’ area had a modicum of privacy. Tobias and Seth had pushed a wall of dressers around the beds and a couple of nightstands. The structure gave the illusion of a walled room. Little Tommy was in awe. He was convinced his dad had just built him a fort. Tobias crept in to find Isabelle still awake, sitting in a rocking chair near the center of the makeshift bedroom.

  “You’re up late. You want me to see if I can scrounge up something to eat? I think Bernie still has a whole bag full of jerky,” he offered.

  “No.” She snorted, almost outright bursting into laughter.

  “Oh, okay. What’s got you so worked up tonight?” Tobias asked while attempting to rub his wife’s shoulders. She immediately pulled away.

  “What is there to say, Tobias? Don’t cozy up to me now that we’re forced to spend time together. Go play with Sam or your new friends,” Isabelle said with a disdainful wave of her arm at Miller and Jeremiah, who were passing by in front of the building through a break in the stacked dressers.

  “Isabelle, please, can we just talk?” Tobias laid his hand on her shoulder. She pulled away hard this time and shoved him back.

  Tobias was momentarily off-balance. He tripped over an end-table display and fell to the floor. A lamp shattered on the ground beside him, alerting everyone inside to the commotion.

  Isaac ran up, nearly ready to draw down on a perceived threat. “Is everyone alright over here?” he said but backed off before either of them could answer. It was clear what was transpiring. “I’ll leave you be, then,” was all he said.

  Nisha heard the commotion, too, but wasn’t about to back away over a case of embarrassment—theirs or hers. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you two, but now is not the time for this,” she scolded. “Come on, you’re sleeping with me tonight.” She escorted Isabelle to another section of the store.

  Tobias sat alone on the floor, stunned. He watched as his wife was led away, comforted in the arms of another woman. Nisha looked back and gave an apologetic shrug. The gesture helped, if only slightly, knowing Isabelle had someone to talk to, even if it wasn’t him.

  Seth offered a hand and helped Tobias to his feet.

  “Don’t even bother explaining, pal,” said Seth. “Come on outside, man. I’ve got something for you. I found some cold ones. Well, they’re warm ones now, but it’s still beer, right?”

  • • •

  Dawn crept into the abandoned shopping center as the Pepperbush survivors slowly began to stir. Lancaster sat amidst the ash-laden ruins of a burnt-out liquor store two units down from the furniture shop. A blackened minivan was lodged into the front of a walk-in refrigerator at the far end; it appeared to have exploded on impact or was otherwise set ablaze. Most of the inventory that survived the ensuing fire was long ago looted, although if you dug deep enough through the remains, you could stumble across a gem or two. Lancaster found a half-empty bottle of the worst rotgut imaginable, dragged himself into a corner, and indulged. A far cry from his beloved Brandy, but the end result would be the same.

  “You won’t find it at the bottom of a bottle,” said Sam, emerging from the shadows.

  “Oh, the ever-so-wise Sam graces me with his divine wisdom. Spare me your false platitudes. A few weeks ago, your opinion meant less than dirt to me. Why should that change now?” Lancaster sneered.

  “When everyone else was heading for the hills and looting places like this dry, we hid, cowering behind the berm, laughing all the while at the idiots on TV. Who’s the fool now, begging for the scraps they left behind?”

  “You and I could have accomplished greatness, Sam. Why were you always so against me?”

  “You’re either drunk or delusional if you can sit there straight-faced and tell me what you did in Pepperbush even resembled greatness,” replied Sam, ire growing.

  “Bah.” Lancaster rose and steadied himself against a partially burnt wall. “What do you know about it, anyway?”

  “I know those people were terrified of you, and for good reason.”

  “Is there a point to all of this, or are you here merely to gloat?”

  “Honestly? I came in here with every intention of putting you down once and for all, maybe give Tobias, Vanessa, and Marisol some peace of mind,” said Sam with a sudden air of serenity. “But seeing you like this, lying in the dirt, filthy, drinking bottom-shelf booze in the corner of a burnt-out liquor store, friendless and scared, I won’t give you that release. You are right where you belong.” He leaned on the doorframe, peering out upon a bright new morning. In days gone by, he would never have been so careless as to turn his back on Lancaster in any situation. By this point, the former mayor was nearly as low as a man could get. He wouldn’t dare make a move against Sam or anyone else. Not anymore.

  Tobias thought it best to let Isabelle cool off for the night. They could work it out in the morning before he joined Miller on patrol. After a few beers with Seth, he slept beside Tommy until well past dawn. He awoke to Isabelle gathering what little things she still possessed and quietly stuffing them into a trash bag.

  “I didn’t want to wake you, but I sent Tommy out with Bernie to look around the grocery store,” Isabelle said while continuing to pack.

  “Oh, okay. That’s fine. Bernie’s always been good with him,” Tobias said through a yawn. “Why are you packing up already? We’re not leaving until tomorrow.”

  “Tommy and I are going to start riding with Nisha and Sam. I’m putting our stuff with theirs,” she said with no air of uncertainty.

  “Just like that? No discussion? Can’t we talk about this, Isabelle?” he asked, flustered.

  Tobias tried to turn her around to at least look him in the eye before leaving.

  “No, I don’t want to talk about it, Tobias. Fuck.” Isabelle pulled away. “Get off of me.”

  “Izzy, please,” Tobias begged.

  “For Christ’s sake, would you stop calling me that?” she yelled.<
br />
  “What? Izzy? I’ve been calling you that for years. I thought—” Tobias began.

  “Well I fucking hate it! Sounds like you’re patronizing me, like I’m a fucking child. My name is Isabelle, and you are my husband, not my father.” Isabelle momentarily raged but calmed as quickly as she began.

  “Okay, okay, Iz—Isabelle. I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Tobias stammered.

  “Talk with me, not at me, once in a while, and you’d know these sorts of things,” she replied with a calmness. “Go find your son. He’s not Bernie’s responsibility and I shouldn’t have to watch him every hour of every day.”

  Miller paced the length of an aisle. His position atop the empty shelves afforded a 360-degree view of the grocery store. He obviously couldn’t see the goings-on of each and every aisle; that was what Marisol, Soraya, Seth, and Isaac were patrolling for. Miller had a clear line of sight to each exit; they wouldn’t be caught off guard, not here.

  A few pairs of survivors filed up and down each dusty, ransacked aisle. Not very dissimilar to better times when shoppers would be compelled to walk each and every aisle, rarely noticing their carts filling with items they didn’t need. A good portion of which would be discarded weeks or months later with no recollection of where, when, or why they even bought the things in the first place. Now their eyes were wide. They didn’t dare not scan every inch of every aisle for even the most mundane of items. A packet of ketchup would have been a godsend at this point.

  “Oh my God, wipes.” Lillian snatched up a plastic container of baby wipes that had been kicked underneath a shelf. “Do you have any idea how disgusting I feel right now?” she said rhetorically.

  “Of course I do. I slept next to you last night,” Vanessa replied jokingly.

  Lillian grabbed Vanessa in a bear hug, trying to force the woman’s face closer to her own filthy shirt. “I stink, huh? Well, what do you think about this?”