The older man groans and mumbles something that sounds like, “Oh, brother” and I can tell that he’s rolling his eyes, even though they’re covered by the sunglasses.
The boy ignores him and continues, “Dude, we have to get out of here! I’m not sure if you noticed all the zombies in the shops, but they won’t stay hidden for long.”
“Uh huh,” I reply, looking from the man to the boy and noticing how similar they look. Both have strong, square jaws and a prominent, slightly crooked nose. Their hair is the same dark shade of blonde, although the older one wears his cropped short. They could be father and son.
“She’s crazy,” the older man says to the younger one, then turns to address me. “They would’ve shot you down, the Gov. You know that, don’t you?”
“I don’t know that,” I say. “Why would the Gov want to shoot me?”
They both stare at me for a moment before the older man pulls off his sunglasses. He’s younger than I originally thought, maybe only a few years older than me, and definitely too young to be the boy’s father. The similarities in their appearance are even more pronounced now that I can see the older man’s eyes. They must, at least, be brothers.
“Shoot you, collect you - what does it matter? Either way, you’re toast. Get it?” At my blank stare, the older man continues, “Have you been living under a rock?”
“No,” I reply lamely, then add, “In a MegaMart.”
“Oh,” says the man, genuinely surprised. “That's... not a terrible strategy.”
I resist the urge to become indignant at the man’s implication, and instead turn my head and take a few steps further into the alley. “Well, if going’s the best tactic, then let’s get to it.”
“Not that way,” says the boy, prying at a hatch that leads down to the sewer system.
“Do I look reptilian?” I ask, making a face, but I already know that they aren’t joking. “I'm not going down there.”
The man has already disappeared into the dark tunnel, the boy gesturing politely for me to precede him.
When I don’t budge, he points to the coolers, still strapped securely to the dolly. “Do you need that?”
“Leave it,” shouts the man from inside the sewer.
“No!” I protest, and drag the dolly over to the hole. By the time the boy has helped me lower it into the sewer, I realize that I’ve been tricked. I sigh and climb down after my luggage, then wait for the boy. Once he’s half way down the ladder, he pulls the hatch closed, then hops down to join us. “Shall we?” he asks cheerfully.
The man grumbles something under his breath, and then leads the way, pulling the dolly behind him. I straggle a few feet behind with the boy, intent on talking with him alone. These are the first non-infected people that I’ve seen in months, and I already don’t like half of them.
“I’m Kyle,” says the boy with a smile, then jerking his thumb in the direction of the man, adds, “And that's my brother Derek.”
I was right. They’re brothers.
Kyle continues, “You seem sort of... uh, unfamiliar with the city. You said that you were living in the MegaMart?”
I nod my head, but say nothing.
“We’ve never checked there.” Kyle says. “You’re a long way from it. How did you get all of the way across town without getting picked off?”
I think of the MegaMart that I worked at before I was transferred to Carnassey, the one just a few minutes outside of Middleton, at the north end of town. On foot, it would have taken hours to walk here from there, and I can imagine how crazy I looked from his point of view, wandering in the middle of the street, surrounded by Passives.
“I came from the one in Carnassey,” I say, then add, “But I actually used to work at the one at the north end.”
Both Derek and Kyle stop to stare at me. I hadn't realized that Derek was even listening, but he speaks up as though he was included in the conversation all along. “You've been outside of the city? How did you get here?”
“I drove,” I respond flatly. “Why? What’s wrong with outside of the city?”
The two brothers exchange a very loaded look, but neither responds to my question. Instead, Derek turns back and starts walking again. “We need to hurry, we’re already late.”
The rest of the walk is long, and filled with awkward silence. We finally arrive at our destination, a sewer hatch that looks like every other sewer hatch, but leads into the boiler room of some sort of building. Once inside, we’re greeted by two men. They seal the sewer door shut behind us.
The taller of the doormen looks at Derek. “We were about to close up for the night. I was just waiting for the final word from Glory.”
“Glory would never lock me out,” Kyle breaks in jovially.
The men ignore him, looking past Derek at me. “Who’s this?”
“We went a little off course. Found her along the way,” Derek says, adding with a flat look at me, “That’s why we were late.”
“I didn’t ask to be found,” I respond just as flatly.
The men ignore me as well as they turn and start down the hall, intent on talking about me as though I’m not present.
Kyle nudges my side with his elbow as we lag behind. “They do that a lot.”
We weave through several more hallways and into a large and dingy entranceway, then up a flight of stairs. When we near the top, I can just make out the sounds of people talking nearby. The voices are faint, but surprisingly content. It’s the happy chatter of friends sharing food, not the hushed whispers of survivors.
Derek and the two guards veer into the first room on the left, followed by Kyle, but I pause in the doorway, looking down the hall towards the cheery voices. I’d rather go and meet those people.
I take a step into the room, intent on asking the men where exactly we are, when two voices cry out in unison.
“Katie!”
I know those voices. Startled, I turn and find myself staring into the equally surprised faces of the Ims.
Chapter 8 – All Together Now
The last time that I saw Tim and Kimberly was the day that they left the MegaMart, so many months ago. After that it was Dale and me, and then just me. I met the two brothers less than an hour ago, and now, somehow, I’ve come full circle back to Tim and Kimberly. Seeing the Ims again dredges up a minefield of memories that I really don’t have the energy to contemplate right now. When they left, it had been to go to the city and find their son, who had been evacuated with most of the rest of our small town.
When we said our goodbyes that day, I honestly thought that I would never see them again. I believed that they would succeed, and never come back.
Kyle turns to look back and forth between us. “You know each -”
“Katie!” Tim exclaims again, ignoring Kyle. He and Kimberly are on their feet in an instant, wrapping me in a hug that implies a lot more fondness than I was aware we shared. I hug them back just as fondly.
“I can’t believe you guys are here,” I reply.
The Ims are a lovely couple in every imaginable way. I remember the first time that I really noticed them, after lockdown, sitting on the floor in the MegaMart and holding hands. They were the perfect kind of couple for people-watching. Every movement and every look seemed to tell a story. Right now, as they stand before me, again holding hands, the story is that of defiant survival.
Kimberly is unreasonably tall, at least from my vantage point, with pale, creamy skin, green eyes, and a nose that tilts up ever so slightly at the end. Her hair is thick and messy, and billows out from her head in shiny waves of red. Tim is considerably shorter than her, by at least half a foot, and has red hair a few shades darker than his wife’s. He has a long and slightly rounded face, with a strong chin. His cheeks and nose are smattered with light freckles, and he currently sports a scruffy, unshaven look, which adds to his boyishly handsome appearance. His eyebrows are set close to his eyes, but always seem to be pulled up in an inquisitive expression.
In th
e silence that passes between us, Derek inserts himself back into the conversation, reminding me that there are other people in the room. “Like I was saying, we found her in sector three. She drove in from Carnassey.”
Our embrace ends, and I turn back to where Derek, Kyle, and the two guards are all facing someone at the end of the room. I can’t see the person that they are addressing from where I stand behind the group of men, but their respect for this person is evident in their pointedly formal posture. I try to imagine the kind of person capable of leading a group such as this in a world such as the one outside these seemingly safe walls. They would have to be strong, intelligent, and cunning. I also know that the Ims would never follow anyone of questionable standing, so this person, this leader, must be honest, and moral. I have an image in my head of a colonel. Someone like Dale’s father.
I’m surprised when the leader’s voice comes out soft and frail, almost a murmur, and better suited to someone’s sweet old grandmother than the leader of a band of post pandemic survivors.
“That’s good work, boys,” she says. I hear her stand up, one of the guards moving forward to help her, but she brushes him off, and looks around the other guard, at me. “It must be you, then.”
I step forward, and find my body straightening up of its own accord. I clear my throat, and offer my hand to the woman. “I’m Katie,” I say, and she shakes my hand lightly.
“I’m Glory.”
Glory has a warm smile that both lights up her eyes and draws attention to the lines and creases on her face. I’m not much for judging age, but if I had to guess, I would place her somewhere in her mid-seventies, maybe older. She’s about my height, with surprisingly good posture, and a walking cane held in one pale, leathery hand. There’s a warmth about her that makes me feel immediately at ease.
What is it with these people and making me feel so very safe, and welcome? It was almost the same feeling that I had when I saw Kyle, and the Ims greeted me with a lot more warmth than I would have expected, too.
“I'm glad you made it into the city,” Glory says, walking forward with her cane. She puts an arm around my shoulder, although I’m not sure if it’s for support, or just a kind gesture. “We don’t have much, but you're welcome to join us for the evening.”
“Oh,” I say, and take another look around the room. Joining some sort of partially underground resistance team was not something that had occurred to me. “I'm not... I mean, I'm just trying to find -”
“It’s been a long day for you, I’m sure,” Glory says with a warm laugh. “Please join us for dinner, and we’ll get you all sorted out tomorrow. It’s not safe out after dark.”
“Dinner... oh!” I exclaim, suddenly recalling my dolly, which Derek has left a few feet away from me. “I brought food with me.”
Behind me, the door creaks open and I turn to see several faces peek into the room.
I smile as I cross over to the dolly, and begin unstrapping the coolers. “I’m not sure if it’s still frozen or not, it might need to wait until tomorrow. Do you have a fridge?” I flip open the first cooler, which contains mostly meat, cheese, and an impractical chocolate dessert that I couldn’t stand to leave behind. “Maybe we can -”
“You had this frozen?” Tim interrupts, poking his finger into the topmost package of steak as though he doesn’t believe me.
“Yeah. I pulled it out right before I left. The bottom one,” I kick the other cooler with the side of my boot, “is mostly fruits and vegetables, and a bit of fish that wouldn’t fit into this one. I hope no one’s allergic. I didn’t really know if I’d find anyone else.” When no one replies, I get nervous and gesture to the coolers. “They're yours, you can have them.”
“Katie,” Tim asks again. “These were frozen? You had power? How did you get power back in the store?”
“We used generators,” I tell him. “Dale set them up. We, um, we had them all around the store. I... I should have brought one... but they’re so big and heavy. I thought the food would be a better choice.”
Tim shakes his head and lets out a laugh. “Generators.” He looks over at Kimberly. “We should have stayed there.”
Kimberly shakes her head, and slaps his shoulder lightly, then turns to address me. “It’s wonderful Katie, thank you.”
“You don’t have anything like that here, do you?” I ask.
“No,” Kimberly says. “The Gov, they... no, we don’t. It’s mostly canned and boxed, and fruit when it’s in season. We, uh... we get some fresh meat once in a while.”
There's something like embarrassment in her tone, but I’m not sure why. I think of the gun on Derek’s belt and wonder if they've been trying to hunt their meals. There's not much wildlife around here. You’d see the odd deer in Carnassey, but I doubt anything that big ventures into the city. The only animals that happily live in metropolitan areas are usually pigeons and rats... oh.
I decide not to pursue this thought any further.
Glory finally breaks the tension in the room by closing the cooler and thanking me sincerely for the trouble it took to bring them here.
“There's more in the car,” I tell her. “Nothing perishable, but lots of food and supplies, and everything I could think to bring that would be useful.” I glance around the room to see that the doorway is now filled with curious faces. There must be at least fifteen people present, and I wonder how many others live here.
“Well, then,” Glory says, addressing the curious gawkers. “Tomorrow we'll send a retrieval team to the car. But right now...”
Everyone leans in hopefully.
“It’s time for dinner.”
I laugh as the room fills with shouting and cheers.
Dinner takes a while to prepare, as the food is prepped and cooked without the help of any of the modern conveniences that I have apparently been spoiled by at the MegaMart. Once the meal’s ready, everyone gathers in a large open space that they call the common room. Several tables are pushed together and surrounded by mismatched chairs. Around the rest of the room are chairs, couches, end tables, and a few games in small groupings. I assume that this is the place where the group spends their free time.
Eventually, everyone gravitates to the large table, and by the time the food’s all laid out, I have met each member of the group, although I can’t remember most of their names. A total of twenty-two people live in this particular location - twenty-three if you include me - with no less then twelve other resistance groups scattered around town. It’s difficult for them to keep track of numbers, as the only communication between the groups has to take place in person.
Our particular group is one of the smaller units, as far as they can tell, and frequently trades with another group that has set up their home base not too far away.
Derek heads up one of the ground teams, shadowed by his brother Kyle, who’s training to be a team leader. There’s a second ground team, but I can’t remember who’s in charge of that one. Just like the first team, there’s a leader, and a leader in training.
Each team makes daily rounds of the city in search of survivors, while completing hunting and gathering assignments as necessary. It was on one of these rounds that Derek and Kyle found me, so I guess the system works.
In addition, there are security guards, cooks, cleaners, child minders, and other jobs. Everyone pitches in, and Glory oversees everything.
The only other person whose name I can remember for sure is a nine-year-old girl named Kendra, who everyone seems to refer to as Kenny. She, Kyle tells me, is on permanent ‘bunny duty.’ Kendra’s family owned a small pet shop in the downtown quarter, which specialized in rare breeds of rabbit. When Derek’s team found Kendra and her mother, they had over three dozen rabbits in little cages in the apartment. I don’t ask Kyle what happened to Kendra’s mother, but her absence is implied when he informs me that Kenny does a great job of caring for the rabbits without any help.
Dinner is wonderful. Possibly even more wonderful because of how much everyone
else is enjoying it. I wish that I’d brought even more food from the MegaMart, and try not to think about the amount of food that lies rotting in the abandoned fridges and freezers of the store.
After dinner, the group peels off into small clusters of friends who park around the room to chat, play a game, or just relax. Watching the groups form as the table grows emptier is not unlike walking into a high school lunchroom for the first time, taking in the little cliques. At the corner farthest from the table sits Derek, the two guards from earlier, and a girl with shoulder length blonde hair. They all seem around my age, or maybe a little older. Sitting on the floor in another corner of the room are five kids ranging in age from what I guess to be about twelve to eighteen. I’m immediately reminded of the kiddie table at a family gathering - a place to banish all who are under the drinking age, so that the grownups can hang out. Kyle is amongst them, although he doesn’t seem all that engaged in their conversation. He glances over to where Derek sits, then turns back to listen to the kids around him.
The others are scattered about the room, except for Kendra, who sits at the far corner of the table, playing with her food, and Tim and Kimberly, who have moved to sit across the table from me.
“This,” Kimberly says around a mouthful of the chocolate cake that I brought, “is the best things that I’ve eaten in weeks.” Her plate now empty, she sets to work on the spoon.
I smile, glad that I had made space for that thing after all.
Tim speaks up in a quiet voice, asking the question that I had hoped to never have to answer: “Dale?”
My breath catches in my throat, and I let out a small noise before trying to reply. Tim cuts me off with a nod of his head. “It's just you,” he states, giving me the opportunity to add details or simply agree. I go with the second option, and nod my head back at him.
I try to change the subject, but the only question that I want to ask is, I’m sure, just as painful as the one they tried out.
Population: Katie Page 8
