by Ann Christy
Karen comes back down in just a minute, her face greenish and pale beneath her normal, dark-honey tones. She looks traumatized. She’s also covered in blood. I turn Laura so that she can’t see in case she lifts her head from my body, while Karen wipes down using the stack of clean kitchen linen on the table. We’ve ruined the museum-like quality of this house and all I want is to escape from it, go back to the warehouse, and forget I was ever here.
Today – Free Range and Deliveries
“Incoming! Incoming! Incoming!” Savannah yells as she races through the courtyard, yelling into each of the warehouses.
Without in-betweeners or Emily to care for while she’s off doing her testing, I’ve been keeping busy with the kids and all the work that has fallen by the wayside lately. At the moment, I’m up to my elbows in filthy laundry water while the kids help me by rinsing the clean clothes. Well, mostly they have fun getting wet while pretending to rinse, but that’s beside the point.
Savannah’s words stop us all in our tracks, Jon and Maribelle immediately looking to me for instructions, while Laura freezes in fear.
I gather Laura into my arms—there’s no time to coax her like I normally would—and run for the hiding place inside the in-betweener warehouse. There’s enough room behind the glass and mylar for all three of them if they’re quiet and still. Jon and Maribelle follow at a run, getting ahead of me as I struggle under the weight of a frozen Laura.
Once we’re inside, I set Laura down in the best spot since she’s the newest at this. I turn to Maribelle and Jon and say, “You know what to do. Stay here and help Laura.”
Both of them nod, no words needed. I take a quick glance to be sure the water bucket is filled and then duck out of the door, pulling the empty boxes in front of the opening as I leave. With Tom and some of our best shooters off doing the testing with Emily and the in-betweeners, we’re going to need all hands if one of the military patrols is really on the way.
I climb up to my shooting spot and pull my gear out of the box stashed there for just this purpose. I’ve got my rifle scope aimed toward the street beyond our fence within two minutes of Savannah’s call. I glance over at the other rooftops when I don’t see anything on the street. Matt, who was on watch and must have received the call, holds up his hand, fingers spread, and then mimes a walking motion with those same fingers.
Five people on foot.
That doesn’t sound like a patrol. Not at all. The military—and we’re still not sure they are military, only that they use military equipment—have done every single patrol using Humvees or trucks. Never on foot.
I shrug in his direction and he shrugs back. The little radio is propped up on the rooftop in front of him, and he points to it and shrugs again. He means we’ll just have to wait and hear.
The pair of hand-held radios was probably our most amazing find during our trip to the suburban enclave. Nothing electronic seems to have survived in the open. If you want to find batteries, you’d have the best luck finding them by opening up a deader’s stomach. The same goes for any small electronics. Deaders will eat anything metal.
These radios were in a little charging base inside one of the houses that was still sealed up. Only one would hold a charge, but just the other day Tom came back waving a battery pack that fit with a little adjustment. They aren’t great, but they work well enough that we can station a watch at the head of this street, which looks out onto a main thoroughfare, and give ourselves a huge advantage in terms of early warning.
I go back to watching the road and waiting from my perch. The weather broke last night, a storm coming that poured rain from the sky in buckets and gave us our first really comfortable night. Today the wind is fresh and cool, like summer just packed its bags and decided to leave us. That makes it damp at my perch, but not miserable. I hope the kids are alright, but I have to push those thoughts away so that I can remain focused.
The squelch of the radio is loud in the silence, since even the birds that normally cluster on our rooftops flew away when we came running. Matt fumbles it and then speaks. I wish I could discern the words, but they come to me distorted at this distance. Tantalizingly near, but just too far to understand.
Matt grins and whoops, so I know it’s good news, but what kind of good news? What kind of good can five people on foot be? It could be that Tom somehow lost the truck and is coming back, but that would mean he didn’t have everyone with him since five people went along with Emily, Luke, and the two in-betweeners. Still, Tom’s group is due back by tonight, so it could be them. I’m immediately worried, already almost grieving for Emily.
Matt scrambles to his feet, cups his hands around his mouth, and yells in my direction. “It’s Charlie and Gregory. And some visitors for you!”
He turns to the others on the rooftops and yells the all clear, but I’m already packing my rifle and ready to run. I shout toward Savannah’s spot on top of the in-betweener warehouse, “Get the kids!” Then I’m off and climbing down the ladder as fast as my feet can carry me.
Charlie and Gregory were on patrol, trying to sneak up and get more information on the military encampment. It’s dangerous, but we don’t have a choice. And given that they’ve decided to set up camp in a parking lot at a discount shopping store, there are a whole lot of good vantage points to watch them from that they couldn’t possibly cover.
And, to get there, you have to go right past the welcome sign. It can only be Violet and Princeton. I hope it is anyway.
I make it through the gate and to the road in time to see them round the curve up ahead. I can’t see details from this distance, but I’d know Violet anywhere. She’s the only woman I know who is taller than any man left in this world. Walking next to Charlie, she makes him look like a little kid.
I whoop and take off running toward them. They all wave at the sound of my whoop, and I can’t stop myself from giving a little skip out of sheer joy. I spoke with Violet all of fifteen minutes, but she broke us out at risk to herself and made good on her promise to get us the nanites. To me, she’s a hero.
When I reach them I immediately start in with the hugging. I can’t help it. Violet laughs as I grip her in a tight hug, babbling like a lunatic the whole while. I even hug the guy walking on the other side of Violet and I’ve never seen him before in my life.
“Hey, hey! I’m glad to see you too. Don’t knock me down,” Violet says between laughs, gently disengaging from me, but grinning all the same.
It’s only after I’m not hugging people that I get embarrassed. It happens every time and every time it does, I tell myself that I will refrain the next time. I never do.
“Sorry! I’m just so glad to see you. I was worried,” I say.
We all start walking again and I can see how incredibly weary the three people are. Princeton isn’t a big guy, but he looks smaller now. All three of them are dirty and tired looking. And all three are carrying huge backpacks.
“Let me take your pack,” I say to Princeton, and shoot a look toward Charlie that he should do the same.
He just shakes his head like he knows something I don’t. Then Princeton says, “No, I’ve carried it this far. I want to bring it all the way.”
At those words, my heart jumps in my chest and I look at Violet. “Is it?”
She smiles at me and nods. I shouldn’t whoop this far from safety, but I do it anyway. That nod means only one thing.
Nanites.
*****
Tom’s group rolls up, truck rumbling in the near-dark, and the first thing I do is look for Emily. I see her almost immediately, even in the deep twilight. Her pale face hovers above the side rails as she stands there, looking ahead toward the warehouses.
“Emily!” I shout and run toward the truck.
Her head swivels and as I near, I see her nosing the air with a frown on her face.
“Don’t worry, Emily. There are new people, but they’re nice,” I say, looking her over for anything amiss. Aside from being covered in dried mud from her feet to her kne
es, she looks okay. I can tell she’s hungry by the growl that comes out of her when I get close.
“Bring the birds!” I shout back toward Charlie, who’s much closer to the warehouse than I am. He turns around and runs back the way he just came.
I look into the back of the truck and see both in-betweeners chained to the bed much more tightly than they were when they left. Luke is sitting on the truck bed like any other human, his hands handcuffed to one of the metal loops used for tying things down. He looks up, his face weary and tired, but doesn’t show any real emotion at all.
“She’s hungry,” he says, his voice deadpan.
It still makes me feel weird to converse with Luke. He should be dead, but I don’t think any of us really believes there’s any purpose to killing him now. He’s almost like a robot, an extension of Emily that might be of use to us. Still, I don’t like it when his eyes alight on me.
I look away and say, “Of course. We’re bringing food.”
That’s one of the few things that has changed in Luke. He still likes meat, but he’ll eat it cooked. And now he now eats other things too. And it’s not from desire or preference. He seems to know what his body needs at any given time and that’s what he eats. And when he’s had enough, he stops eating. It’s very strange.
When Violet shows herself, Tom freezes where he is on the step of the truck like he can’t believe his eyes. Then he whoops much like I did.
“She brought more nanites,” I say. “She made it!”
He looks at me while he takes in my words, then he grins, hops down from the truck step, and comes over to slap me on the back…hard. “You were right! They did come!”
“Maybe next time you guys will listen to me,” I mutter, meaning anything to do with Emily, which is obvious.
He shakes his head and says, “You sure can hold a grudge, girl. But in that case, you were dead wrong. Emily can do more than we ever thought.”
Is that good or bad? I don’t know.
He waves a hand, as if to dismiss his words. “Never mind that for right now. Let’s just get these guys fed and locked up. I’ve got a lot to tell you and it looks like you’ve got a lot to tell me.”
Charlie appears from between the warehouses with a big bucket that we filled up with birds in preparation for this return. He runs carefully, trying not to slosh any of the blood that fills the bottom.
“Yeah, that we do,” I say, then look back up at Emily. She’s still sniffing, but has her gaze glued to me. “And yes, let me take care of Emily first. She needs me now.”
Tom looks up at Emily and then back at me, a little frown creasing his face at my words. To me, it looks like concern, but really, I don’t care. I know what I know. She needs me and she’s inside there, helping us even now.
Four Weeks Ago – At Play in the Land of the Dead
It’s my turn to watch the kids. I’m also supposed to be trying—emphasis on the word trying—to get them to do some school-work, but I gave that up after about five minutes. We got a good rain last night, the kind that comes down hard and scours the ground clean, so the air is washed clean of dust and there are puddles to play in. And, as a bonus, all the baby pools we laid out are full of fresh water and they’re allowed to use one to play in. So, that’s what they’re doing while I watch them. I can’t stop smiling.
Laura is recovering well. Mostly, she needs the kind of emotional and mental healing that there are no professionals for anymore. Time and care will help. That’s what has worked for all of us—to an extent—so I’m confident it will heal her as much as any of us can really be healed. Otherwise, she needed a more varied diet, some serious tooth-brushing, and a whole lot of cleaning up. I had to cut her hair, because the knots had become something like dreadlocks. Now, she looks like an adorable pixie with her short, brown hair and wide, blue eyes.
Charlie’s footsteps are loud behind me as he approaches. None of us are very good with surprises, so a heavy tread when possible is sort of our default mode. Not when we’re scavenging, of course. But here at home, it’s far safer. Especially since we’re armed all the time.
His arms slide around my chest from behind as he crouches behind me. His words are low in my ear when he says, “Hey, beautiful, aren’t you supposed to be teaching them how to read?”
I laugh and crane my neck to get a glimpse of him. He’s freshly washed and smells like soap. “Would you want to read ‘See Spot Run’ if you were them right now?”
When his arms slide away so that he can sit next to me, I want to tell him to keep holding me like that, but I settle for tucking my shoulder under his arm and leaning on him instead. I like the way his chest rumbles when he laughs at the antics of the kids. It’s like the best kind of punctuation. For a little while, I’m happy to sit there in the shade, enjoy the break in the heat, and just be. We don’t get much of that in our world.
So, of course, it doesn’t last.
Matt’s deeper shadow darkens the light beyond our awning and then goes still, clearly waiting for us to acknowledge him. I can tell the shadow belongs to him by the way his hair always sticks up, especially after a haircut, and the slightly angry way he stands with his hands on his hips.
I sigh and say, “What’s up, Matt?”
The arms of the shadow drop from his hips and he blows out a frustrated breath. “I’m irritated and I don’t know why.”
Charlie yawns and it sounds like a bellows inside him. “Aren’t you supposed to be on watch?” he asks Matt.
“I am on watch,” he snaps. “I’m just out here at the moment.”
I push myself upright and off of Charlie reluctantly and look up at Matt. Poor guy. I understand what he means. The summer is dragging on and we’ve not yet gotten anything at the welcome sign. The in-betweeners require watching and it’s a strain to do that. It seems like we’re in a limbo that’s about to burst open, but without us being able to tell which way the opening will go. Will it be toward hell or heaven?
The respite I found with Charlie is gone and I’m with Matt in our limbo again.
“Something will happen soon. I’m sure of it. We’ll go to the sign and we’ll have news and then we can start our lives new again,” I say. I don’t add that we might never get a package and then we’ll have to figure out what to do from there.
Matt nods and joins us in our shady spot. Maribelle stops her playing for the half-second it takes to give us a measuring look, trying to decide if something bad is going on, no doubt. Then she splashes Laura and they forget about us once more.
Matt waves at the kids, then says, “I know something is going to happen. That’s what I mean. It’s like there’s a piano hanging over my head and the rope is creaking. I just don’t know when it’s going to drop.”
That’s pretty good. Matt’s not the poetic type, so I’m guessing he got that from a cartoon, which is exactly where I remember it from.
“Well, you’re going with me to the sign next week, right? Maybe we’ll finally have some luck,” I say.
Matt only grunts an answer while he wipes the sweat from his brow.
Just then Gloria comes out of the home warehouse and stretches in the sunshine. When her arms rise above her head, her shift-dress tightens around her middle enough for me to see that her belly is growing further. Usually, she wears loose things so as to not display her condition, or maybe simply because none of her clothes fit now.
Seeing her like this really emphasizes the fact that we’re going to have a new member of our group in a matter of months. And it will be a member who cries, needs to be fed, watched at all times, and soothed. It will be one that can’t protect itself in even the slightest way.
“Wow,” Charlie breathes. I see he’s looking the same place I am, at Gloria’s middle.
“Yep,” Matt says.
Yes, Matt is right. We do need to have something resolve itself soon. Even I have to admit that I don’t know how we’ll manage here with a baby and two cages of in-betweeners. We’re running out of time.
Today – A Trip to the Zoo
“And this is Emily,” I say, stepping aside so that Violet, Gordon, and Princeton can make their way down the little corridor between the two cages.
I’m very nervous. They step cautiously, like I do when I’m trying to be quiet and not sure what’s waiting for me during a scavenging run. All three of them are sticking to the exact middle of the corridor, their flashlights up and ready. They’ve seen Luke and the other two, since the opening in their barrier is before Emily’s. To me it looks like they’re nervous walking between two sets of potentially dangerous revived dead people.
Luke said hello just like any other person would, but only after prompting, and he immediately put his head back down on his desktop, as if dismissing the visitors. The way he did it reminded me of an orangutan I saw in a zoo once. That orangutan had that same bored and dismissive manner that somehow made me feel bad for watching him. Luke’s been doing that since he woke up, so I wonder if he does feel like he’s in a zoo.
It sure makes me think differently about zoos.
I shake that thought off and hang my lantern from the hook in the corridor so that its light will spread around the area. Charlie does the same at his end of the corridor and the soft yellow light brightens enough that the shadows are chased to the floor.
Emily growls low in her throat when the three strangers appear, her arms coming up to her chest as if to protect herself, and her feet shuffling as if preparing to run. She looks from them to me uncertainly, so I say, “This is Violet, Gordon, and Princeton. It’s okay, Emily.”
Her brow wrinkles at the name Princeton and she eyes the people warily, her nose searching the air for whatever information she gets from it.
I step in front of the visitors and get closer to the cage. “Emily, remember how I went to the hospital and found friends to help me? Violet and Princeton helped me. Remember that?”
“Ospidal!” she exclaims, a grin appearing on her face.
“Yes, Emily! Exactly,” I say, cheering her on with some soft clapping.
