"I've been raising him just fine these past three years."
"Well, I don't-I don't have anything to say about that. I-"
"I'm not going to hurt any of you."
"That's not what I'm saying."
"Then get to it already." she says, snapping at him.
He inhales deeply and leans forward again.
"We don't feel comfortable with you being here anymore.
"We?"
His eyes close for a moment as he nods to her question.
"We talked about it while you were getting eggplant."
She looks away, her head slowly shakes, her eyes shut, and her face scrunches.
"Does Mikey know?"
"No, we haven't told him anything."
"Good."
"But we would like Mikey to-"
Rosaline jumps up from the stump.
"Fuck you!"
His hands raise, palms out, in a show of submission.
"Okay, okay."
He rises from his seat as well. Her head still faced away from him, he can see tears glistening as they roll down her cheek.
"I'm not gonna make you leave at night, but I'd appreciate if you guys left before sundown tomorrow."
"Yeah, we will." she says, then storms out of the barn.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
They reach the top of the incline, Karo stops, detaches the canteen from his pack, and takes a swig of water. He scans over his companions. Jack has broken a light sweat, but doesn’t appear exhausted. Norman is in good physical condition, and as such doesn’t look weary. Daisy, though a slender woman, and presumably well conditioned, is sweating profusely.
It’s not Daisy that gives Karo pause, however, it is Patrick. Daisy is more than capable of asking to take a break. Patrick stands in the rear of the group, hunched over, with his hands upon his knees.
“Let’s rest for a while.” Karo says, his voice low and stern.
Norman pats his husband’s back as he leaves his side. He ventures over to Patrick.
“How are you feeling?”
Patrick shrugs his shoulders, but doesn’t audibly reply. Norman is accustomed to nonverbal responses from Patrick. The boy rarely speaks, and when he does it’s in short bursts.
“Dizziness or queasiness?”
The teen shakes his head.
“Just tired?”
Patrick grimaces, nods, then he takes a seated position on the ground.
“I think we’re all tired, a break will do us some good. You took your medicine this morning right?”
The boy nods again, intently bobbing his head at a diagonal angle, the early formation of irritation beginning to show.
“Alright then, let us know if you go to use the bathroom or to have a look around.”
The boy doesn’t respond this time. His mind fixated on the stick he’s moving dirt around with. Norman joins back with the others, a short distance ahead of Patrick.
“I’d say five, maybe six, more hours of daylight.” Daisy says, her head titled up to the sky.
“Five.” Karo responds, flatly.
“Might have to camp in the woods then?”
“Looks like it.”
“Rotating shifts to keep watch?”
The grizzled man only nods, his gaze having moved away from Daisy after his first reply. Daisy’s attention turns to Jack and Norman giving them a sarcastic look of mild frustration. Jack softly chuckles. She looks back to Karo.
“So what’s the plan then?”
“Plan?”
“What’s the goal here? What’s our endgame?”
“Staying alive.”
Her eyes roll, sharply darting up into her head.
“Yeah, no shit. Are we going somewhere particular? Staying in the south? Heading north? East? West?” -she throws her hands in the air, waves them around, then slaps them on her hips- “That’s all of them!”
“No destination. Just where ever we find safety.”
“Well, that’s comforting.”
He glares at her, his annoyance empathetically conveyed. She relents, holding up her hands. A long moment of silence falls them before Karo speaks again.
“I didn’t claim to have answers. Just the ability to keep us alive.” he says through his teeth.
“Okay. I just, you know, like information.” she says, under her breathe.
Karo grunts as he rises from his kneeling position and walks away from the group. Daisy scoffs, looking back to Jack and Norman.
“He’s a bundle of joy today, huh?”
Jack chuckles again. Her sarcasm easing his tension.
“Let’s play nice Days.”
“Me? I’m nothing but nice!” she proclaims.
Norman’s eyes widen, “Ha!” he exclaims.
“Don’t start with me Doc.” she says, deviously grinning.
“What’s it like to have worked in a profession that isn’t helpful now?” Norman asks, a coy smirk painted across his face.
Her brow raises, her grin grows more defined.
“You. Are. A. Shit!”
The three laugh, only toning down once Patrick approaches them.
“Hey buddy, everything alright?” Daisy asks through giggles.
His head remains down, hands in his pockets. She extends an arm to him, bouncing her fingers around.
“Wanna sit with me?”
Patrick meekly takes her hand and sits next to her. She intertwines her fingers with his, rubbing her shoulder against him.
“We’re talking about our new friend, Captain Jolly. What do you think about him?”
Patrick’s head doesn’t move, his eyes do not meet any of theirs. His usually timid demeanor holds.
“Yeah, me too.” she says.
Through laughs Norman is able to muster out “Stop!” to Daisy. Karo returns, seemingly from out of thin air, startling them. His shadow looms large over the group.
“Woods for miles ahead. No clearings.”
“Alright, what’s our best option?” Jack asks.
“Get as far as we can. Make camp at dusk.”
“That’s our cue.” Daisy says, rising to her feet and helping Patrick up.
The group travel with little communication over the next four hours. About an hour before the sun begins to descend Karo lead them east. He stops them as soon as the trees start to thin out.
Karo carries a small tent in it’s own pack, not large enough for the five of them. Only three will be able to sleep inside it, provided two of the three are the smaller Daisy and Patrick. One person will have to keep watch, and the other will have to sleep on the dirt.
This first night together passes without incident. All of them, save for Patrick, rotate shifts of keeping watch, roughly every three hours.
At dawn Karo packs up the camp while the others empty their bladders and bowls. They resume their journey to nowhere, stopping only when rest is needed. At midday Karo divides the cooked rabbit he’s had wrapped in foil among them. Small portions for each to ensure there’s enough for later that night.
After a few days in the woods the tree line is gapped by a road. The group follow the road into a desolate and tiny town. Only a few buildings are passed by, offset by more roads leading in different directions. They travel east again following one of the new paths closely.
The first trailer they come upon is at the end of a short dirt driveway. Two old, worn down cars reside on the lawn, neither of them on the driveway itself. Karo inspects the property before venturing inside the trailer. He returns after a short while to report no occupants are inside, living or dead.
Karo intends for them to spend the next few days in the trailer. Karo and Jack work out a plan to search the buildings they passed for supplies. Karo advises to wait until the following day before leaving again. The trailer is small and dirty, but it’s better than his dingy tent or the hard ground.
This is their life now. An endless travel for survival. Breaking off into small towns when possible. Searching for supplies as nee
ded. Waiting for Patrick’s next episode, hoping and praying the time in between them lengthens while the duration of them shortens. It's not a good life, but these days there are no good lives.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Rosaline huffs as she marches to the house, a scowl firmly written upon her. She throws open the front the door. Mikey, startled by the sudden noise, jumps from the couch. Zee, who had been sitting with him, jolts as well. Mikey looks over Rosaline with an inquisitive gleam. Rosaline’s glare darts to Zee and locks on.
“Are yo-”
The child begins to say, but Rosaline cuts him off, her gaze never breaking from Zee.
“Go upstairs.” she says through gritted teeth.
Zee slides off the couch and straightens up, Rosaline’s furious mood bringing her to attention.
“But we ar-”
The boy starts in again, but stops when Rosaline’s eyes cut to him.
“Now.” she says sternly.
Mikey slumps into a defeated posture, starring at her for a moment, droops of sadness in his pupils. He turns to Zee then looks to the floor. As he passes by her she runs her hand along his hair, causing Rosaline’s fists to clench and her stance to widen. Noticing this, Zee halts the act before even sliding all the way across the small child’s head.
Rosaline watches as the boy climbs the stairs and turns the corner out of view. Her gaze then moves back to Zee, her lips scrunched, her face long, concern and guilt held in her eyes. Zee’s hand comes up, attempting to ease the enraged woman before her.
“Listen, I know you’re angry-”
“Damn right I am.”
“I’m sorry. I-I don’t agree with this, but-”
“But not enough to stop it.”
Zee’s hand drops, her face flushes, shame washing over her. Her head shakes as she speaks.
“What can I do about it Rosaline?”
Rosaline doesn’t reply to her. Her chest heaves in and out, anger flowing through her veins.
“I’m sure you don’t think this is fair, but they’re scared. We’ve never, we’ve never had to deal with something like this before. Hawaii just wants to protect us.”
“By fucking throwing us out?! After all this time? Mikey’s used to being here now. It’s going to crush him to leave.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t fucking say that. You don’t get to say that.”
Zee’s cheeks glisten as tears begin to dribble down them.
“But I am. I-”
A catch in her throat pauses her for a moment.
“I don’t want you two to leave. I like Mikey, I like having him here, it’s good for him.”
“I’m not leaving him here without me.”
“I know, I know.”
The door opens behind Rosaline and Hawaii enters. Zee wipes the wetness from her face, forcing a fake smile. Rosaline’s gaze does not break from the distraught woman, she doesn’t even acknowledge the man behind her.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“Yeah, everything is fine.” Zee says, nodding her head more than she should be.
“Maybe we should go upstairs.” he says.
Zee nods again, trying to keep the dam to her emotions from cracking. As the two trod up the stairs Sweetie emerges from the kitchen. Rosaline’s expression drops and her scowl loosens.
“Nena, can we talk?”
Rosaline remains rigid, her anger still swirling, but tapering off. After a short moment she bobs her head. Sweetie approaches her and motions to the front door. Rosaline steps back outside, with Sweetie in tow. The Latina pushes the door closed. She turns to Rosaline, but can’t bring herself to look the upset woman in the eyes.
“I-I didn’t know they were gonna do this.”
Rosaline keeps silent, presenting no indicators other than the mild scowl that still resides on her face.
“I think...I don’t even know what I think, not really. I just...I liked you...”
She trails off, unable to finish her thought. Rosaline’s scornful look fades into one of grief.
“Liked?”
“Like, liked, what’s it matter now?”
Rosaline reaches for Sweetie’s hand, but it’s pulled away from her grasp, bringing forth a dejected look from her.
“It matters. To me it matters.”
“I don’t know what to say nena.”
Rosaline slumps down into the chair next to her.
“You can’t even look at me.”
The usually energetic Latina’s gaze finally breaks from the wooden porch and wanders up to meet Rosaline’s.
“We don’t really even know each other. We’ve only been hangin' for a few weeks.”
“But there’s something here. I feel it. I know you feel it too.”
Sweetie’s lips part, but she stops herself. Her eyes have become glossy, as beads of liquid moisten their corners.
“I do, but-but I think we were moving too fast.”
“Do you really? Or are you just saying that now?”
“Don’t nena, please.”
“Don’t what?!” Rosaline says, her voice raising.
“Don’t make this harder. I-I can’t take that.”
“You think this is easy for me?”
“No!” Sweetie exclaims, her bottom lip quivering.
Sweetie’s composure gives way, her tears flow like a babbling brook. Rosaline leaves her seat, moving closer to her.
“I’m not trying to upset you, really, I’ve just never felt this way about anyone before.”
“Me either.” Sweetie says through sobs.
Rosaline tenderly reaches for Sweetie’s hand, and this time is allowed. Rosaline pulls Sweetie into her, embracing her gently. Both of them now weeping together, feeling the full weight of the situation.
“Nena...I'm so sorry.”
“Me too.”
Sweetie pulls away from her again.
“I’m sorry, I can’t, I can’t.”
She nervously runs her hand through her long dark hair, then only a moment later, grabs the door handle, flinging it open in a rush of emotion.
“I’m sorry.” she says again, barely able to muster out the words.
She hastily enters the house, leaving Rosaline outside, and alone. When the door shuts again Rosaline drops to her knees on the porch. Her hand clutches her chest, no longer able to hold back her feelings. She weeps intensely, rocking back and forth on her knees. Her forehead rests on the rigid wood. During her convulsions she extends herself out, laying prone on the porch. Her sobs convert to dry-heaves, sucking in air then bellowing it out in howls of sorrow.
The front door cracks open again, but it does not gain her attention, unable to process anything else in this moment. Though a child, Mikey knows what grief looks like. He knows when Rosaline needs to be left alone and when she needs comfort. The boy gently lays out on the porch behind her and rubs her back.
Rosaline turns over to face the concerned child. She presses her face against his chest, pulling him close and wrapping her arms around him. He embraces her with all his might, his little arms locking around her head.
She’s not one to snap at him, and never before has she not allowed him to voice himself. He knew something was wrong. He couldn’t shake that feeling, so after a few moments of being in their room he went back to the stairs, only to find Rosaline gone. When Sweetie came in upset, and Rosaline didn’t follow her, he knew he had to check on her. He doesn’t know what is wrong, or what caused this, but he knows that right now she can't be alone. He'll lay here outside, in the dark, holding her for as long as she needs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
As Karo and Jack trudge across the muddy trail, the rugged nomad’s gaze zips across the landscape, never staying fixed to one area for more than a few seconds. Always on the lookout for danger, and never settled, Karo maintains an ever present mind.
The two set out for the abandoned buildings an hour ago. Their travel has been slowed by the soggy terrai
n, having rained the previous night. They must be aware of the increase in noise their steps now make.
“I imagine this weather isn’t ideal for supply runs.” Jack says.
Karo doesn’t look back to this companion, and his reply is so soft it’s almost inaudible.
“You’d be right about that.”
Picking up on Karo’s hushed response Jack lowers his own voice.
“So, you worked in finance before all this?”
Karo nods his head.
“How’d you come to be so, well, good at killing the diseased?”
“Practice.”
“That all it takes?” Jack asks, chuckling.
“And knowing each confrontation could be my last.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“It’s not something I want to be good at, I just am.”
Karo points to the west as he adjusts his path. Jack follows, picking up his pace to be next to him. Karo glances at his traveling partner, sensing their conversation isn’t over, he sighs before speaking again.
“What did you do before all this?”
Karo’s demeanor more than tells Jack that there isn’t any true interest behind the question, but he’s going to take the opportunity regardless.
“I was a chef.”
“So you cooked?” Karo replies, in the most matter of fact way.
“No, not just cooking. I have a culinary degree. I worked in a five star restaurant. I ran the kitchen.”
Karo doesn’t seem impressed, not that Jack was expecting him to be.
“It’s been helpful knowledge. Knowing what we can and can’t eat, and how to prepare it safely.”
Once again the only conservative gesture Karo offers is a simple nod.
“You’re not an easy person to have a conversation with.”
“Not much worth talking about these days.”
With that Jack let’s their conversation dwindle. After a few minutes of silence filled walking Karo comes to a stop in front of a patch of woods. He studies the environment for a long moment.
“We could probably go around this, adding unnecessary time.” Karo says.
“Why not just go through it?”
“This is thick brush. Lot of noise, low visibility. Things tend to blend together under all that green.”
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