by John L. Monk
When he couldn’t carry any more, he strode to the doors and called out, “Heading to the car.”
Once outside, Jack popped the trunk and deposited the books in the back. A quick look around showed nobody there, which suited him fine. He passed Lisa on the way in. She had an even bigger stack than his—because she’d found a book return cart.
“I left the trunk open,” he said, feeling faintly betrayed.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling smugly and pushing the cart gently along with one hand.
And so it went for the next hour. Jack found as many books on science and math and engineering as he could, and Lisa snapped up everything she could find on animal husbandry, farming, and homesteading. He also broke down and snagged some interesting science fiction books and a bunch of age-appropriate stuff for the children.
“Hey, Jack, check this out,” Lisa said at one point. When he came over to look, she showed him a book on raising rabbits.
“Rabbits,” he said, smiling. “You’re really going to eat cute little bunnies?”
“The cuter the tastier,” she said innocently.
Later, as they were bringing out their last load of books, having filled up the trunk and the entire back seat, Lisa said, “Do you smell something?”
Jack sniffed the air and said, “Shit!”
He dropped his books, rushed to the front doors, and saw a big pile of books burning in the parking lot. Worse, their car was gone. Clearly someone other than Lisa had learned to hotwire cars.
Parked nearby were two sports cars with little checkered flags tied to the antennas. Sitting on the hoods or standing casually were several boys and girls in their early teens. All of them were armed. When they saw Jack, they waved for him to come out.
17
“Now what?” Lisa said. “We going out to meet those gunslinging book burners?”
“Maybe they just want to talk?”
“Sure. Because they’re sociable that way.”
Jack grimaced. “Come on.”
Without looking back, he delved deeper into the library, heading for the doors leading to the parking lot out back.
“If they’re smart,” she said, “they’re guarding there, too.”
“Don’t count on it. My guess is they’ve never used the library even once in their dumb cabbage lives.”
When he looked out the back doors, sure enough, there was a sports car out there, too.
Lisa smirked. “Cabbages, huh?”
Jack swore. “We’re trapped. And we don’t have a ride home.”
“Sure we do,” she said coldly. “There it is, right there.” She was looking at the car the kids were using. There were three of them, all about twelve or older, two carrying pistols and one a hunting rifle. “I think we have the advantage. The sun’s behind the building and the doors are shaded. They can’t see us very easily, but we can see them. First shot breaks the glass, the rest break us out of here.”
Quietly, Jack said, “Is that what we’ve come to? Killing to steal a car?”
She shook her head. “More like killing to stay alive. See how healthy they look? I’m not trying to scare you, but what the heck are they eating? Not like the farmers brought in a bunch of crops over the summer. And I didn’t see that many little kids on the way in …”
Jack grinned. “What are you saying? Cannibalism? How’s that not trying to scare me?”
A moment later, a car from the front joined the one in the back parking lot.
“So we take the one out front,” she said, already moving.
He stopped her at the entrance. “I don’t want to kill anyone else. Not if we can help it. Okay?”
“Fine,” she said quietly. “But if they raise their guns or do anything threatening, we do what we have to. It sucks, but what choice do we have?”
“I agree,” he said, then leaned in to kiss her. She tensed at first, then fell into it.
Since that first kiss on the bus, they’d been too busy to see what it meant. Half his reason for coming here together was to see if it might happen again. She was the smartest, prettiest girl he knew, and he wanted to protect her from every danger, up to and including herself. If she started thinking all her problems could be solved at the end of a gun, she was lost.
After pulling apart, they counted to three, then pushed through the glass front doors. Aiming as they went, they shouted things like, “Drop the guns!” and “Away from the car!” and “Don’t even think about it!”
The three out front were completely taken by surprise. Jack felt a powerful surge of relief. These weren’t steely-eyed commandos they were facing. They were just kids.
One said, “Don’t shoot!” and dropped his gun. The others dropped theirs too, blubbering pathetically while backing up.
“Now run away!” Lisa shouted and shook her rifle.
They didn’t hesitate—they dashed in all directions, sprinting as if they’d never stop. The two friends didn’t wait to find out. They hopped in the sporty two door—still idling, wasting gas—and roared away without buckling in.
A sudden hiss of static sounded from a CB radio mounted under the dash, and a boy’s voice said, “Kirby, you see them yet?”
Jack jerked the wheel in fright, nearly taking them into one of the quaint little streetlights decorating the town. Lisa screamed, raising her hands defensively and slamming her rifle hard against the side window, cracking it.
Jack steadied the car and kept going. “You may want to stow that.”
She stashed her rifle on the back seat and pulled her pistol.
Static from the CB, then: “Dammit, what’s happening? Pick up!”
Lisa moved to turn it off, but Jack stayed her hand. “Can’t hurt to listen.”
Doing his best to control his breathing and calm his jangling nerves, he wormed his way to one of the main roads leading back to the interstate. They didn’t pass any other cars, but they did see more children out—little ones, none older than about ten. Again, he marveled at how well fed they looked, which made him think they had older brothers or sisters taking care of them. Despite the tenseness of the situation, he took comfort in that.
The CB crackled: “I know you can hear me! Bring back the car and we won’t hurt you. If you keep running, you’re dead!”
Jack snatched up the handset and looked at it, then pushed the side button. “You stole our car and tried to trap us. You do that to strangers, what do you expect?”
He waited for a reply, then realized he had to let go.
“—my city taking our stuff! You gotta give us something back.”
Jack clicked the mic again. “First off, it’s not a city, it’s a town. Second, thanks for the car—full tank, too. And as for your dumb threats: my gang’ll be back later to kill you all. We’re pretty good at it, too. You won’t even see us.”
With an angry twist, he flicked off the power.
“Why did you say that?” Lisa said in a shocked tone.
Because I’m pissed.
A minute later he said, “The cabins aren’t that far away. If we put them on alert, they’ll spend more time defending the town than looking for us.”
She didn’t reply immediately.
“What?”
“We could do like you said. Hit them before they hit us.”
He cast a worried glance her way.
She’s just upset.
Shortly after finding the main road out, they passed another car with one of those checkered strips of cloth tied to it. The car stopped, half turned to follow them, but then just stayed there as if the driver were torn with indecision. Jack allowed a small sigh of satisfaction and kept going. A minute later, he pounded the steering wheel in frustration.
“What?” Lisa said.
“We needed those books.”
“We’ll get more,” she said. “There’s like a million libraries.”
He nodded. “But I only know where my local one is, back home.”
“Then we’ll have to go back home,�
�� she said.
Shortly after getting on 66, Jack noticed they were being followed. Whoever it was kept their distance, pacing the two friends by the length of a city block.
“Are you sure they’re the same ones?” Lisa said, peering through the side mirror.
He nodded. “They have one of those dumb flags. We can’t let them follow us back to the cabins.”
She turned in her seat and stared back at the car. “Looks like … I think there’s only two of them.”
“Yeah, with a CB to tell their friends our exit and how to get to Big Timber.” He swore. “Better get out that rifle. You were right after all. Sorry.”
“Maybe not,” she said. “They’re flashing their lights.”
Sure enough, the other car’s lights were flashing on and off, repeatedly. Calmly, Lisa reached down and turned on the CB.
A boy’s voice finished, “—you hear me? Over.”
She picked up the handset.
“Hello? Uh … um … over.”
She didn’t forget to release the switch.
“Oh, thank goodness.” The boy’s voice was different than the one back in town. “Listen, can we come with you? It’s just me and my girlfriend. We have food. We can help. Over.”
Another voice broke in: “Steve, you’re gonna pay if I see you again! Traitor! Thief!”
Jack said, “What do you think?”
“Could be a trap.”
He nodded. “Doesn’t change the fact that we still need people. Think we should stop and see?”
“I think we should. Just be careful.”
“You’ll have to cover me,” he said.
Jack put on his right blinkers, pulled off to the side, and got out with his rifle drawn and ready to fire. Seconds later, the other car pulled up. The windows rolled down on both sides and two sets of hands popped out.
“Out of the car!” Jack shouted, muzzle forward but not actually pointing at them.
A boy in the older range stepped unsteadily from the driver’s side, hands raised, face white with fear. He was skinny without being emaciated and had a mop of shaggy brown hair.
“You too!” Jack shouted at the girl in the front-side passenger seat. There didn’t appear to be anyone else in the car, though he supposed someone could have been hiding in the back.
Carefully, the girl extricated herself and ambled over. Jack blinked and his mouth fell open. “What the …?”
“She’s pregnant,” the boy said. “Can you please put the gun away? We’re unarmed, see?” He turned around quickly, then motioned for the girl to do the same. She did so, too, though less quickly.
For some reason, Jack couldn’t get his mind around what he was seeing. Couldn’t she just be fat? How could she be pregnant? She was a teenager, sure, but she couldn’t be that old. The news said nobody older than about fifteen ever recovered.
Maybe she never got sick.
“How old are you?” Jack said to her.
Her voice was soft and light, with a slight southern twang. “Sixteen. I just turned it. Didn’t have no cake, though.”
She was the oldest survivor they’d found yet. Daring to hope, he turned to the boy and asked him, too.
Grinning goofily, the boy said, “I’m fourteen. She’s robbing the cradle, hah hah.” When Jack didn’t grin back, the boy’s manner switched to pleading. “I’m Steve, she’s Molly. We can’t go back. They’ll kill us if we do. They were gonna kick her out. That’s why we made our break. They said they didn’t want pregnant girls in the gang. They wanted her to take a pill to, uh, kill it, and she didn’t want to.”
“Because I’m a Christian,” she said defiantly.
Jack looked beyond their car and down the highway. Still no cars, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “Why did you people steal our car? Burn our books?”
The boy grinned. “Carter, that’s why. That was him on the CB. You were on his turf. We were supposed to beat you up, take your food, whatever. The gang has plenty of food, but it tastes like crap. Corn feed. Big, huge silo full of the stuff. Enough to last years, probably.” He bit his lip. “Please, man, can we come with you? Like he said, we’re dead if they catch us.”
“Stay here,” Jack said and went to talk to Lisa, who was covering him. Quietly, he explained the situation.
“Pregnant!” she said, eyes wide in wonder. “Of all the … who gets pregnant at a time like this?”
He shook his head. “People like that, who knows why they do anything? Question is, do we take them in? The girl’s sixteen. Just turned it.”
She didn’t hesitate. “I think we should. But we can’t let them follow in that car. Just in case. You know?”
Jack nodded. “Totally.”
He went back to the couple, who stood holding each other and shivering in the cold.
“You can come with us,” he said, “but we have rules. Everyone chips in and works.” He glanced briefly at Molly’s stomach. “Within reason. Also, what I say goes. What anyone says goes, actually, until we’re sure about you. Understand?”
“Oh yes, thank you,” Molly said, eyes shining with happiness.
“Man, thank you,” Steve said. “You won’t regret it, I swear. I’ll work hard, you’ll see.”
Jack told him his name and pointed back to their stolen car. “That’s Lisa. Molly, you sit in the front. Steve, you’re in the back with me. Wait a minute, turn around.” They turned around and waited while Jack awkwardly frisked them. “Just being careful.”
Steve nodded agreeably, pathetically eager to please.
“Hey, one thing though,” the boy said. “We brought some food we were saving for when we split. Didn’t think you’d take us unless we had something to give. That’s how it is in my gang … I mean my old gang. Nothing for free, and you gotta give something to get in or you’re in debt and gotta pay it back. Usually guns and stuff, or sodas. Everyone wants sodas.”
Molly snorted angrily. “Sodas? Yeah, right. If you’re a boy, you mean.”
Jack looked quickly at her, but didn’t follow up. He wanted to get off the interstate as soon as possible. They seemed sincere, but he felt exposed. “Let’s see this food.”
He followed Steve to the back of their car and waited for him to pop the trunk. When he did, Jack’s mouth fell open. The trunk was filled with heavy-duty contractor bags his dad had once used to throw away drywall after the basement flooded. If it really was food, there was a lot of it.
“What’s in them?” he said.
Steve smiled proudly. “Like I said—corn feed. Tastes like cat shit, especially if you don’t clean it first. But it eats fine after you grind it. Better if you put it in hot water and add salt, like grits. Some people add hot sauce.”
Jack shook his head in wonder. “We’re going to need a lot of hot sauce.”
18
As a precaution, Jack tied the black and white checkered flag around Molly’s eyes. He made Steve pull his jacket over his head and lean forward over his shoes. Jack watched carefully in case he tried to peek out. When they hit the gravel road leading to Big Timber, Jack winced at the tiny reveal, then calmed himself with the fact that the county probably had dirt roads everywhere. Nobody could tell which was which by feel alone.
As they pulled into the meadow, Lisa gasped in alarm.
Greg and Brad were running toward them with rifles out, aiming at them. Their mouths moved, shouting instructions nobody could hear over the crunching tires, their faces tense with anger and fear.
Lisa slammed the brakes, sending their stolen car into a skid and bouncing Steve off the back seat.
Jack winced against the bite of the seatbelt. “Ooh …”
“Molly, you okay?” Steve said.
“I’m fine,” she groaned. “I think.”
Outside, Greg and Brad stalked forward, still looking freaked out—then surprised when they saw the driver of the sports car was Lisa. Immediately upon recognition, they lowered their wea
pons.
Lisa rolled down her window. “It’s us, you idiots!”
“We didn’t know!” Greg shouted back angrily.
Jack snorted, shook his head, and opened his door. “You’re gonna love it here, Steve.”
Most of the children were near the pond when they arrived. They came running over with Olivia, who had her gun out. Pete came running too with his, as did Tony. He’d have to give his former students grief for running with firearms. For now, though, he felt proud of their quick response.
“This is Steve and Molly,” Lisa said when everyone had gathered. “They’re joining our team—and they brought food!”
Excited looks and chatter followed Lisa around to the trunk, which she sprang open like a pirate’s treasure chest.
“Wow, what is it?” Greg said. “Beans? Rice?”
Steve grimaced. “Corn feed. Probably not enough for a big gang like yours.”
Big gang? Jack thought. Then he remembered his threat on the radio.
Brad didn’t wait to be told what to do—he grabbed a bag and carried it into the Skyline. Though Jack felt tired from yet another run-in with gun-toting cabbages, he nonetheless picked up a bag and followed suit.
“Greg!” he called back. “Seriously? Stop being a wimp and help out.”
With a groan, Greg lifted a bag and shared the burden, then came back with Brad and Jack until the car was empty. In total, they had eleven bags of feed, each weighing between thirty and forty pounds. Easily enough to last the group through the winter and then some, provided they fortified it with protein, fat, and vitamin pills.
After the bags were loaded into the pantry, everyone except Jack gathered in the kitchen—the unofficial Skyline meeting room.
“Where you off to now?” Olivia said when he passed her on the way out.
“Be right back,” he said.
He didn’t like the sports car, figuring it used too much gas. He also didn’t like the idea of knuckleheads like Pete and Tony speeding around and racing. Way too dangerous. To head that off, he parked it out in the grass on the other side of the Skyline. Then he crawled underneath the car and hid the keys in the undercarriage. When he got up, he dusted himself off and laughed as something occurred to him.
