Based on their respective reactions, I gage that Glory was the only one who knew about this particular piece of information. Derek must have briefed her on a few more of the details than he did the others.
“Looking back over our encounters with ‘Aggressors,’ as Katie refers to them, with this new information...” Derek hesitates, lets out a breath, and then continues. “Based on what we know now, we could attribute the increase in Aggressor sightings in our area to Katie’s presence.”
My jaw drops. This is news to me. While we both agreed that the immunization didn’t mask me from the Aggressors, it hadn’t crossed my mind that it might have some opposing effect. When did Derek think of this? Was it during his quiet contemplation last night? Or while I was sleeping? This morning?
I am about to jump to my feet and shout at him for accusing me of bringing more danger upon the group, when something in my head stops me; the sudden, painful realization that he’s probably right.
When I first arrived in the city and was about to flag down that tank, the Aggressor across the street had noticed me. That was, of course, before the tank blew him to bits. Sightings increased notably after I arrived here. Everyone talks about the Aggressors just attacking out of nowhere, picking a target, and losing it. But thinking back, every one of them that I’ve seen could have chosen me as a target. We just never waited to see who or what it was going for. Instead, someone would always kill it before it got too close. But they always turn in my direction. They always notice me.
Maybe this is one of those side effects that Tim was so worried about, one of the unknown factors. Maybe this is the reason why Dr. Ashmore’s immunizations were deemed ineffective against the second strain of the virus. Not because they couldn’t prevent infection, but rather, because they couldn’t prevent you from being attacked. Or worse yet, they made you a preferred target.
“What does this mean?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Derek says, and he seems genuinely sorry.
Tim chimes in. “We double up on security. Cameron can help. We have enough food for now.” He looks over at me. “And no ground missions - you don’t leave the building, not until we understand this.”
“Tim, if I’m making this place more dangerous -”
“We don’t know that,” Erin says.
I remain silent for the rest of the meeting, falling away into my own little world of thought as the others discuss theories about why or how there are two viruses. I slide the journal onto my lap, pull out a pen and work on an entry on that very topic.
Firstly, I detail the conclusion that Derek and I made last night, referencing various pages of the journal as I go. The last time I wrote in the journal, I’d gone through and numbered each page, which makes referencing very simple and straightforward now. Then, I start a list, entitled ‘And Then There Were Two,’ and write the point form version of each theory that comes up around the table:
* The Other Side was being thorough.
* The virus mutated naturally.
* It’s one virus, but some people experience different side effects.
* The Other Side and our Gov each made one.
* Our Gov made both and lied.
Some of the theories are farfetched, others frighteningly plausible, but the hardest part to stomach is the fact that we have no conceivable way of determining which is the truth - if any of them are.
Everyone knew – but never discussed – that the war was being fought dirty. Car bombs, powdered diseases that you could mail, tainted water... and that was only what we heard about. Whenever something big and threatening would happen on our side, the media would jump all over it, reinforcing the idea that the Other Side was awful, and anything that we did to them was necessary. But we never heard too much about what we did to them. I can’t imagine, with all of those things happening, that we never fought dirty ourselves. Just once. Just a little. How could we not?
I review the list again. With the exception of a natural mutation, everyone at the table thinks that either our Gov, or the Other Side, is responsible. Somewhere, someone made this happen to us. They might not have meant it to get this far out of hand... but at what point do you throw your hands up in the air and find yourself ready to do just about anything to make it stop - to end the war?
Well, it has stopped, I guess. We have bigger things to worry about now. And I suppose, they do, too. This is the first time that I’ve ever even considered the Other Side. What must the world be like, out there, farther then we can touch? Farther than we can communicate with, now that we live in a shell of a country. Are they as badly off as us? Maybe worse? I don’t want to think about anything worse than what we face here.
Glory sits down next to me, putting her hand on my shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“Huh?” I mumble, coming back to reality. The room has cleared out, leaving the two of us alone.
“I want to make sure you aren’t taking Derek’s theory too personally. No one’s blaming you for anything that may have happened here. And even if he’s right, and the aggressive ones are here because of you, no one’s been hurt by them.”
“Not yet,” I say pitifully. “But I wasn’t supposed to stay here. I thought that I’d get to Middleton and meet with the Gov. I thought they’d give me the help I needed… I never imagined I’d have to fight for it.” I reach up to my neck, twisting the silver chain that rests there around one finger.
“I know things are difficult,” Glory says, “but you’ve done a lot of good.” She smiles. “And we’ve loved having you here.”
“I can’t thank you guys enough for taking me in,” I tell her, “but...” I trail off, unsure of what I want to say.
Glory pats my shoulder. “I’ll support whatever decision you make.”
I sigh loudly, releasing the chain. “I think it’s time for me to continue on. Bennett went to San Angeles, he must have. I don’t know if he’s still there, but even if he’s not... the Gov’s there. Whatever’s left of it.” I pick up the journal. “I have information they need.”
Glory nods, and we spend the next few minutes discussing how and when I will leave. When we’re done, I take one last look around the planning room. It’s more than served its purpose today. And by tomorrow, it’ll be another fading memory.
Chapter 16 – Just Another Walk
After the meeting, I hurry to find Kyle and catch him up on everything that happened, ending my monologue with the part about me deciding to leave.
“Where will you go?” he asks, and it’s a good question.
“To San Angeles,” I reply. “It’s what I’d have done if I hadn’t met you guys.”
“That’s silly,” Kyle says, clapping an arm around my shoulder. “If you hadn’t met me, you’d be a smushy pile of guts on the road in front of that tank.”
I laugh, but it turns into sobbing tears. Kyle wraps his arms around me and pats my hair.
“I’m gonna miss you so much,” I say into his shoulder.
“I know.”
At lunch, Glory announces my impending departure, keeping the details to a minimum, and my motivations vague but positive. Something about continuing on to find someone I need to see. I don’t really hear everything she says, finding it hard to concentrate on her words as the other people at the table take turns casually staring at me as though I am being forcibly exiled.
Right after the very awkward meal finishes, people whose names I haven’t learned yet, or even spoken to, approach me to ask if I’m doing okay, and if there’s anything they can do. I keep assuring them that this was my decision, and that I had never intended to stay long term anyway.
Luckily, Kimberly comes to my rescue. “I need to borrow her,” she says, linking her arm around mine, steering me away from the crowd, and out of the common room.
“Thanks,” I tell her once we’re safely in the hallway. “I think this may be the first time I’ve ever wished I was in training.”
She laughs and leads me to the sleeping room,
where Kyle’s waiting. He smiles and waves at me from where he is seated on my mattress.
“Alright,” Kyle says, as soon as we’re all seated, “so tell us your plan for tomorrow.”
“I haven’t had a minute alone with my thoughts to figure that out,” I tell them, and it’s true. Between the meeting, telling the few people closest to me about my departure, lunch, and then talking to everyone else, this is the first moment that I’ve had to myself all morning. Even my pre-breakfast conversation with Kimberly feels like it was days ago, instead of mere hours. So much for taking a day to rest.
I flop back against my pillow and sigh deeply, then begin talking through my plans. “I need to get to S’Angeles, which I can, more or less, by following the highway out of Middleton, and straight across the country. Well, not straight across... who knows what’s in the middle.”
“So, driving?” Kimberly asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “The station wagon could make it... probably... I’d just need to unwedge it. There are still a few cans of fuel in the trunk since there was no use for them here - probably enough to get me a good distance until I can find more.”
“Okay,” Kyle says, nodding his head firmly. He has that determined look on his face again, and I know that I’ll never be able to talk him out of whatever he’s about to say. I just hope it’s not something ridiculous. “I’ll help you carry supplies to the car, and get it unwedged.”
“What supplies?” I ask.
“Whatever you need,” Kyle says, and I see that Kimberly’s nodding her head in agreement. “Food, medical stuff, whatever’s left of the stuff you had with you when you arrived.”
“No way,” I protest. “I gave you guys that stuff. Consider it my rental fee.”
“You helped us get all of the other supplies,” Kimberly says. “Who’s gonna argue that we could have raided the hospital without you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “There’s a MegaMart just outside of town, I can stop there and stock up on anything I need before hitting the highway.”
Kimberly shakes her head. “That was the Gov’s base before things went sideways. They probably cleared it out when they moved things into the city.”
“Yeah,” Kyle says, “and for all you know, the thing’s full of zombies, the mean ones.”
“If the MegaMart were full of Aggressors, I’m sure they’d have all dealt with each other a long time ago. Worst case, there are a few Passives in there, and some stale crackers. Nothing my sharp wits and iron stomach can’t handle.”
“Alright,” Kyle says, “but we’re still sending you off with some supplies just in case.”
Later that evening, as I’m packing, Derek comes in to see me. It seems that Kyle has filled him in on the plan, because he informs me that a small team will be joining me on my pilgrimage to the station wagon early the next morning, before everyone else gets up. I try to protest, but he insists that there are still valuable supplies in the vehicles at the edge of town, and it’s been a while since they ventured out that way, anyhow. Knowing that there’s no arguing, I reluctantly agree to the entourage, but refuse to take more than a few days’ worth of food from the group. Derek concedes to this, as long as I also take a kit of bandages, antiseptic and antibiotics, so that I can take care of my leg properly.
By the time I’m finished packing, everyone’s filing in for the evening, so I just set my backpack beside my mattress and start getting ready for bed. Glory comes over to wish me well on my journey and gives me an extra sleeve that she’s sewn for me. It’s a close match to the one she made me earlier. I thank her and tuck the sleeve away in my backpack.
After that, Kendra, the bunny girl, comes over, jumping onto the mattress beside me. She has her hands clasped together and holds them out the way that I used to at her age when I wanted to show my grandfather a particularly interesting bug that I’d captured. Kenny smiles and opens her hands up like a clamshell, revealing something small, brown, and furry. “It’s lucky,” she tells me, shoving the item into my hand and giving it a little squeeze. I look at the offering and realize that it’s a rabbit’s foot, preserved and tied to a short, tan colored string. I thank her and add the lucky rabbit’s foot to the contents of my bag, wondering if it came from a rabbit we ate recently, or if it was something that she’d owned for a while.
“Can I stay here with you guys tonight?” Kenny asks in her casual way.
I smile and nod at the little girl, who hops cheerily back to her pile of blankets in the corner, grabs up her pillow and returns. She places the pillow in the very center of the mattress, squeezes between my bunkmate and me, and settles in for the night without another word. In the time that I’ve been here, I’ve never actually seen Kenny sleep in her own little area. I remember my first night here, seeing her crawl into bed next to Kimberly, who’d been having a particularly difficult day. And every night since then, she’s found a different mattress to occupy. It seems that she hones in on the person who she thinks most needs a bit of company and comfort. I suppose today, for the first time, that person is me. I wonder if Kenny used to crawl into bed with her mother when she was lonely, too.
Derek wakes me so early the next morning, that for a minute, I flash back to the night before, imagining Kyle kneeling over me, instead. It’s the eyes that have me fooled, but I quickly notice his age, the shorter hair, and the lack of boyish enthusiasm that Kyle generally emanates.
I can see the faintest traces of light seeping in from the window, but the room’s still dark. I crawl out of my blankets and paw around for my bag. I swing my backpack over my shoulders, and quietly slip out of the room.
At the end of the hall I find my entourage, consisting of Derek, Kyle, and Erin. The Ims are with them.
“Guys, you didn’t have to get up so early to see me off,” I tell Tim and Kimberly as they greet me with warm hugs.
“We wanted to,” Kimberly assures me. “You were there to see us off when we left Carnassey. It only seems fair that we return the favor.”
I can’t help but smile as I think back to the last day at the MegaMart with the Ims, before they left for Middleton. It was goodbye forever at the time; yet somehow, amongst all of the chaos and against all odds, we managed to find each other again.
“Are you ready?” Derek asks.
I nod my head in assent, smiling and bidding goodbye to the Ims before heading down into the basement.
We enter the sewers and head back in the same general direction that we took to get here, more than a month earlier. Even though we use them often to travel longer distances across town, I find their odor particularly offensive this morning.
“Ugh...” I mumble. “It’s too early for smells this bad.”
“They’re slower in the morning,” Derek tells me, referring, I assume, to the Passives, “so it’ll be easier to get to the edge of the city. We won’t have time to get the car out for you if they swarm us right away.”
“I guess,” I half-heartedly agree. It’s a long walk before we climb back up to the surface, and our group of four quickly divides up into pairs. Derek and Erin are a ways ahead, discussing boring training tactics, while Kyle and I straggle behind, chatting about nonsense. I’ve explained all of the rules of the chessboard game by the time we have to climb back up to the surface, instructing him to challenge the Ims to a game when he gets back.
We’ve passed several access ladders that could have led us to the surface and fresh air, but apparently this particular ladder is the closest to the outer edges of town, even though it’s still a bit of a walk to get to the station wagon.
Derek climbs up first and tries to push open the manhole cover, but meets with more resistance than he expects.
“I think there’s something on top of it,” he grunts, awkwardly wedging his shoulder against the cold metal.
“Are you sure you should open that?” I ask tentatively, taking a few steps towards the ladder to look up at Derek.
“I don’t hear anything,” Derek says. �
��If there was something up there, it’d be moving around by now with all the noise this is making.”
“Still -” I begin to say, but before I can compose a formal protest, the metal cover jars loose, and something large and dense tumbles down into the sewer, landing in front of me with a wet thud.
I let out a surprised scream, jump back, and stumble into Erin, who catches me around the shoulders and pushes me back into a standing position, laughing the whole time.
I look down to see that the thing that fell in front of me is a severed arm, which clearly belonged to a woman, based on the silver bangles still around the wrist.
Kyle claps me on the back, also laughing. “Don’t panic Katie, she’s unarmed!”
“Oh, that’s gross!” I yell at Kyle’s back as he starts up the ladder after Derek, who’s already on the surface.
Erin gestures for me to go next, so I climb up the ladder, grumbling to myself the entire way.
“Can I give you a hand?” Kyle asks, holding a graying arm out towards me.
“Still gross,” I say as I pull myself up onto solid ground.
Kyle lifts the arm into the air. “High five?”
Behind him, Derek’s actually laughing. I continue my glaring tactic until Erin joins us on the surface.
Around the manhole, there are a concerning number of mismatched arms, legs, torsos, and various half-dismembered bodies. Something in the brutality of the scene brings the Aggressors to mind, and I’m thankful that the road between the station wagon and us is a short one.
We move along quickly, and, just as Derek predicted, there are very few Passives on the street this time of day, their numbers dwindling even more as we reach the outskirts of town.
Derek and Erin are once again ahead, while Kyle continues to think up more and more limb related jokes. He quickly moves on from arms to legs, demanding I remain at least ten feet away from him after I take a half-hearted swing at his side. From there, he starts picking body parts, seemingly at random, as he continues to mercilessly tease me for my moment of weakness.
Population: Katie Page 18
