Hayden was as far as they’d gotten in the van. Glancing behind them, Margie could just barely make out the van where they’d left it on the highway. The boxy form broke up the endless emptiness of the asphalt as it spread north and south, the ends disappearing into the night.
Overall the gunshots had stopped and they’d walked a mile, maybe more, maybe less. Sporadic breaks in the buildings and neighborhoods gave room to untamed forests, lending the feel of the great outdoors to the town.
The moon was at their backs and Margie’s stomach growled. She stopped, glancing at Ryker as he paused beside her. They weren’t panting or even breathing too hard to talk, they just opted to stay quiet out of self-preservation.
No words passed between them, but Margie reached into her bag and handed Ryker a snack bag of almonds – one of the items she’d taken from the convenience store.
Margie tried not to boss Ryker around like she was his mother or grandmother, but he needed someone to look after him. She had no problem doing that for him. She needed to be needed. If nothing else, to at least get her to where she had to be. Her drive to continue on came from helping others. She was nothing without helping others.
Another growl made her push her hand to her stomach. That one was loud and she hadn’t even felt it. She glanced at Ryker with a self-conscious smile on her lips. She opened her mouth to say sorry but stopped as she tilted her head to the side.
Ryker’s eyes widened, the whites of his eyes bright in the moonlight. Opening his mouth, he jerked to the side at more sounds of growling and barking. It wasn’t Margie’s stomach making all the noise.
Margie stepped off the path they were walking, moving closer to the highway. She put her arms out, in front of Ryker, and then stared into the dark shadows of the trees. Were there feral dogs already? Without being fed, it made sense, but that fast? Under her breath, Margie breathed, “We need to get inside.” But where? They weren’t by any homes.
A sharp bark and yip as well as harder growling brought the goosebumps to her arms and neck. Just when she was sure the animals were going to jump her and Ryker, someone started to whimper, cried out, and then screamed as the dog snarling became violent mixed with snapping.
Mixed in were the sounds of a few people laughing.
Spurred on by fear, Margie turned Ryker and pushed him toward the highway. They had to cross and get into the shadows. She wasn’t sure who that was in the trees with the dogs, but they couldn’t be good.
As they rushed across the pavement, checking both direction out of habit even though there were no cars coming to the left or right, Margie whispered, “Zip up your hoody. Cover that white shirt. It stands out.” In the broad expanse of the highway, they weren’t protected and could easily be seen. She pushed his shoulder again, spurring him to a faster pace. Moving was hard with the heavy bags weighing them down.
The scrape of their shoes on the ground flooded her chest with even more panic. Margie swung her arm out to the side opposite the side of her body the bag snugged against. Ryker’s zipper whirred up while they ran. He listened to the things Margie told him. They might survive… they just might.
Reaching the other side, they stepped into a collection of trees and stopped running. Bending over, Margie breathed deeply to slow her panting. She stood, bracing her hands on her hips. Lifting a finger to her lips, she shook her head at Ryker and hoped he could see her in the shadowy darkness. She could barely see him, his outline the only thing telling her where he was.
After they caught their breath, Margie moved closer to the teenager and spoke softly. “We need to keep moving. I’m not sure we’re going to make it to Cady’s by morning. If we find a place to hunker down, we might be able to get a couple hours of sleep, but let’s keep pushing.” She spoke in a slow whisper so he wouldn’t miss anything.
The moon came out, reflecting off the metal clasps of Ryker’s bag and illuminating the triangle of his white t-shirt above the zipper of his sweatshirt.
Margie glanced down at her orange bag with its reflective yellow safety strips that might do more harm than good. If they wanted to continue traveling, they couldn’t be seen. They couldn’t risk it.
Day or night the bag would be easy to spot. She had to cover the bright sides or drop it. But she couldn’t drop it. There were too many important supplies they needed to get to Cady’s. She could cover it, but with what? As the temperatures lowered faster and faster as the night circled around them, she couldn’t give up her jacket to cover the bag. They needed everything they had.
But if she didn’t cover the bag, she’d have to get rid of it. Risking being seen wasn’t an option at that stage of the game. They had to make it to Cady’s. At Margie’s daughter’s place, there was plenty of supplies. The small amount in the bag wouldn’t be missed.
Getting there, though. They had no way of knowing what was going to happen to them as they made their way north or what they would need on their journey. Keeping the bag or ditching it was the only two options she had at the moment.
Did she really have a choice when survival was the most important thing? The question she had to ask herself had nothing to do with what she wanted to do and everything to do with what would keep them alive longer.
Margie considered Ryker in the moonlight. Another gunshot rang out from the direction they had just ran from. Margie pressed her back against the nearest tree and met Ryker’s gaze as he copied her movements.
Were they being shot at? Or was that just a residual effect from the mess they’d hurried to get away from?
Chapter 20
Bailey
Bailey grabbed a shawl her grandma had crocheted a few years back – her dad’s mom. She used the dark purple and cream shawl for a baby wrap and secured the sleeping Jessica to her torso by tying the ends of the shawl at her waist.
Grabbing her bag, she used what was left of the diminishing light to get to the garage door. In no time, Cady stood beside her and patted her arm. “We don’t have time for some sentimental goodbyes. Get out to the truck, climb in, and get seat-belted. Don’t make a sound and don’t close the door all the way, just hold it in place until we can get to the street.” Cady opened the garage door and softly pushed Bailey through. “There are men out there with flashlights.”
Fear almost froze Bailey’s muscles, but she used the inertia from her mom’s push and took long strides to the man door on the far side of the garage. Placing her hand on Jessica’s back, Bailey took a deep breath. She didn’t look back at her mom. If her mom said they were going to drive onto the road, then they were.
Bailey’s heart pounded and she wrapped her arm tightly around the soft curve of Jessica’s body. She didn’t know what else to do, but what her mom told her. Did forever pass as she waited for her mom to tell her to go? Bailey held her breath as her mom reached for the door handle.
Another moment passed and then, “Go!” Bailey’s mom opened the door softly and went to the driver’s side of the truck.
Bailey did as she was told. She didn’t breathe too deeply or cry out in fear. She rushed to the passenger side and pulled open the door. She reached up, using the handle running the side of the interior of the door and pulled herself up while stepping onto the step bar. She slid into her seat and pulled the belt across her lap, tucking it beneath Jessica. She slid her bag onto the floor at her feet and held her breath as she closed the door the small amount that she’d been told.
Her mom climbed into the driver seat and shoved the key into the ignition. She glanced at Bailey and took a deep breath. “Hang on.” Twisting the key, she turned the engine over and shifted into drive without missing a beat.
Lights shining in the forest to their left stopped their sweeping back and forth and shown their direction, bobbing as the people with them started running. Bailey held her breath, gripping the edge of the seat and the handle above the door way for more security.
Foot on the gas, Cady pulled forward, taking the curve in the loop and speeding toward the road
faster and faster.
Shots rang out toward them, soft dings breaking through the air as bullets hit the metal in the back of the truck. Someone was taking over their home. Their home.
Bailey’s home. They were leaving and there was no time for a proper goodbye. No time for one more swing on the tire swing out back, no chance to say goodbye to Ranger. Not time for anything. She blinked back tears and breathed as shallowly and controlled as possible.
“Close your door!” Her mom pushed her door open and slammed it shut.
Bailey copied her movements and then breathed a big easier that they were at least secured in the cab. She didn’t want to think of the things she’d left behind. The memories. Her home.
“Don’t look back. We need to keep moving.” Mom turned the wheel and powered the truck from their driveway onto the road. The dash of the old truck lit up her features with a soft glow.
“What if…” Bailey swallowed, glancing to the side into the darkness. She couldn’t even see the trees to say goodbye. She felt cheated and a lump in her chest made breathing painful. “Mom, what if we never see our home again?” She blinked back tears and tried not to curl into her lap and cry.
Her mom softened her voice but she didn’t slow down, swerving to miss potholes on the ungraded road and skipping the stop sign altogether. “We’re going to Grandma’s, honey. That’s like home. It’s okay to miss this place, but don’t be tied to it. We need to move on, okay?” She nodded tightly, glancing at Bailey briefly then looking back at the road.
Bailey nodded in reply, licking her lips. Did she ask? Did she dare ask what she was thinking? “But what if we don’t make it?”
Her mom didn’t answer for a second and Bailey almost repeated herself. Then her mom’s voice carried to her over the rumble of the engine. “Then we don’t. But we won’t know until we try. We don’t give up. There’s nothing else we can do. We can only try. A lot of people have died and lost even more. We’re blessed. You hear me?”
They were blessed and Bailey knew it, but it didn’t help the bitterness taste any better or go down any easier. They were blessed, but at what cost? They’d lost so many and… Scott. He was still back at the house.
“We didn’t leave Grandma a note!” Bailey cried out at the sudden realization. She pressed her fingers to the cold glass of her window and scrunched up her lips. How would Grandma know where to find them?
“We can’t go back, Bailey. We just have to hope that if she makes it to our place, she’ll know we went to hers.” But her voice didn’t sound convincing and that broke Bailey’s heart.
“What about Scott? He’s there with those men coming to our house. What about Scott?” Bailey caressed the sleeping baby’s back. She was only arguing with her mom because she didn’t want to stop talking and leave herself nothing to do but cry.
Mom hadn’t even mentioned him or the fact that they’d left with his niece without making sure he didn’t want her or letting him say goodbye. Her mom shrugged, the movement definite in the cab’s poor lighting. “He made his decision. We can only hope he does okay.” She didn’t explain or try to cover the break in her voice at the end of her statement.
Bailey hoped they made it to Grandma’s without incident, but that wasn’t likely. Nothing had happened without something else making it harder. At the rate they were going, Bailey wasn’t sure they would make it to Clagstone in one piece.
She couldn’t help wondering if dying from the virus wouldn’t have been a better option at that point.
Chapter 21
Rocky Jameson
Clicking his handgun into place, Rocky patted the butt of the pistol. He looked up as the rest of the group of people took a seat. Those that had come anyway. He’d hoped for more, but he’d take the number that had shown up. If more had survived, they probably would have made it to the meeting.
The cafeteria echoed the sounds of chairs moving across the floor and the slight coughs and whispers around them. Everyone had come for answers, for a leader, for someone to tell them everything was going to be okay.
His own agenda hidden from the masses, Rocky stood. They’d come because he’d left fliers all over town that there were plans to get society back on track – come and see how they could help. Everyone would have a role or they wouldn’t have a place in the new society.
Not everyone had died from the virus. Not everyone had been dumb and taken the biochemical agent that had been passed around the world and sold as the cure. The ones who had, if they weren’t grieving and hadn’t starved to death, were more than likely there at the meeting. Too many people had questions and nowhere to turn for answers.
None of it mattered. Rocky was going to help put everything back together. He just needed help figuring out how. Without all the skills to get the community back on track, they would just be twiddling their thumbs and hoping for the best. Rocky didn’t work that way. He wasn’t waiting or hoping for anything.
He cleared his throat, clasping his hands at waist level. He waited until almost all eyes were on him. The slight murmuring quieted and everyone waited for him to speak, curious why they’d been called out, why they’d come to hear what to do, and just what Rocky could do for them.
“I’m Rocky Jameson. I’m glad there are so many of you. We’re a lucky bunch since we don’t have a prison nearby or anything else dangerous. What we have is a rich community of diversity and talent.” The suburbs were ripe with people who had to make money before everything fell down. There had to be skills there.
“I’m sending around some paper with pens and pencils. Please put your name, address, and what your skills are – what you did, what you know how to do, what jobs you’ve had in the past, any training you’ve had – on there. Trust me, nothing is too small. If you’ve made your own cheese for fun, it will be helpful for us.” He tried capturing the gazes of each person, waiting until he’d connected with the individuals. “I don’t know about the government or anything else. All I know is we have a community that has needs and we have to figure out how to meet those needs. We’re in this together. Banding together will be safe, smart, and altogether beneficial for everyone here.”
Tears sprang to the eyes of some and their faces tightened.
Rocky softened his tone, rocking forward on the balls of his feet. “Now, I know, everyone in here has lost at least one person. I’ve lost everyone, myself. I’m the only survivor in my home.” He didn’t say anything about his wife leaving him six months before with their mostly grown son and daughter who were spoiled brats anyway. No, he kept his mouth shut and clenched his jaw. He grieved in his own way, but crying wasn’t his way. “We can’t sit around and wait to die ourselves. We might be able to cut our losses and get our lives back on track. If we work together, I think we can do some great things. I found a huge collection of food. I thought maybe we could all eat something while we get to know one another.”
He didn’t need to say anything else. The men, women, and youth there no longer looked doubtful at the mention of food. Interest lit their eyes and they shifted to the end of their seats as they waited for the go ahead to eat. They waited for his permission. He was already training them.
Rocky wasn’t stupid. Give people hope and something to hope for and they were so much easier to control. Of course, Rocky wanted to survive. Who didn’t? And he would. He knew he would. But more importantly, Rocky wanted to help people, because you couldn’t have power over dead people. And Rocky wanted power. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted?
No. Some people just wanted to get back to living easy, watching TV, eating food they got from the grocery store. If Rocky could get them back to that as fast as possible, they’d do whatever he wanted. That was so much more important than anything else they could do.
Taking control of the small piece of the world he lived in would be like taking control of the country. Rocky could handle that.
As he moved toward the serving area of the cafeteria, he pointed toward the paper that wasn’t really m
oving as people waited for the food. “As soon as that is filled out by everyone, we’ll get in line and get some food. I found some mashed potatoes, gravy, and canned chicken in here. It’s hot and ready to go.” He opened the door to the closed off area, releasing the aromas of home cooked food.
Almost as one, the group moved toward the papers, filling them out in silence and heading toward the door and getting into line, one by one.
Rocky was going to control them all.
~~~
Find out who survives another day in Fit In, book 8 in the 180 Days and Counting… Series.
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You know I write all sorts of end of the world craziness. One of my favorite series out of all of them is a zombie apocalyptic. Wait, before your eyes glaze over at the word zombie let me first say that it is from the point of view of a seventeen-year-old boy who has contracted the virus and it’s not a fast moving virus, but it is irreversible. The worst part is the way it moves and acts like Lou-Gehrig’s disease. They know it’s going to happen and these teens can’t stop it. If you’re interested in just sampling it, just keep flipping the page. Paul is seriously one of my favorite characters and jumping inside a teen boy’s head was a trip! Keep reading, just a taste won’t hurt.
Or will it?
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Move On Page 9
