“We found some stuff,” Scruff reported to Clean, getting them off the subject of gunfire in the streets.
“Us, too,” Clean stated. “We’ll get what we can here, and move west. There’s a little town called South Hill that has a general store. That’ll be a treasure trove if the locals didn’t get to everything first.”
Sutton didn’t want his group heading to South Hill where he hoped the others were staying, but he dared not dissuade them. They already harbored suspicions about his loyalties and beliefs. Holding his tongue, he decided to follow the group’s lead until that method no longer proved possible.
“Let’s finish up here, load the stuff into the truck, and see if we can find a second vehicle,” Clean suggested. “With luck, we’ll make it to South Hill in plenty of time to set up camp and spend the night.”
As Sutton prepared to return to the last building he’d been searching, he noticed Scruff sizing him up as though he might take action at some point. Either way, Sutton knew a conflict was in his future, and he needed to decide his best course of action.
“Let the kid go with Goatee,” Scruff said to Clean. “I need to talk to you about something.”
Sutton didn’t trust the man, but he wanted the opportunity to speak with Hawk a bit more privately, so he welcomed the pairing for the moment. Their fifth group member wandered off to explore a different nearby street, so Sutton walked with Hawk back to the building he’d already gone through once.
“That was weird,” Hawk noted as they entered the front door.
“You’re telling me,” Sutton replied with a sigh. “Your buddy Scruff doesn’t trust me very much.”
“He doesn’t trust anyone, but in particular he doesn’t think you share the group’s values.”
“And you share in their beliefs one-hundred percent?”
Hawk held the door open for Sutton, not answering immediately.
“I firmly believe in doing whatever it takes to survive.”
Sutton considered the answer a bit too vague, causing him to wonder if he was being tested by the group. He needed to frame additional questions carefully to avoid raising suspicions and putting his own well-being in jeopardy.
“The less you say around these guys, the better,” Hawk stated once they began picking up boxes and packing loose items into whatever containers they could find nearby.
“They seem like bullies,” Sutton noted.
Hawk shrugged.
“It’s their nature. It’s the nature of the world now. Eat or be eaten.”
A few minutes later, each of them picked up as many boxes and containers as they could handle. Sutton led the way toward the door when a brief crash, followed by a rattle, reached the ears of both men. It sounded like a dropped metal lid to a frying pan wobbling atop the floor in the storage area above them before it suddenly ceased. Hawk looked to Sutton as though questioning whether or not they wanted to investigate the noise. Sutton didn’t particularly care if someone was hiding in the attic above the main floor, figuring such a move indicated they didn’t want trouble, but Hawk set his items down.
Knowing the etiquette for exploring a building silently, Sutton didn’t say a word as he reached for the semi-automatic pistol at his side. Fortunately, the attic space wasn’t reached by some pulldown ladder, or a hole in the ceiling that required a ladder to reach. A door behind the main portion of the store led to a narrow hallway with another door at the end. There, a staircase ascended to a closed door, and presumably the attic. Sutton wasn’t certain if he would have gone through the trouble of looking behind every door or not, because the group’s time was precious at the moment. They simply wanted enough supplies to carry them through the next few days to a week at most.
Hawk silently led the way because he fit through the narrow doors and hallways better than Sutton. Moving up the stairway silently proved impossible, because their footwear clopped against the uncovered stairs, no matter how silently they attempted to trod. Hawk gave a virtually silent sigh as he reached the door, looking upward as though in prayer because neither of them knew what lie behind the closed door.
For all Sutton knew, the store owner might be huddled against a wall, aiming a shotgun in their direction, waiting for backlight to silhouette them before blowing them away. Hawk pulled out a flashlight, turning it on before reaching for the doorknob and crouching down to make his profile a smaller target.
When the door creaked open, however, they found a black woman huddled in a corner, holding a young black boy in her arms for dear life, as though exiting a sinking ship on a lifeboat and fearing him falling out. Numerous boxes occupied the room, storing various decorations and seasonal items, but they weren’t sufficiently large enough to conceal two human beings. Several toys, pots and pans, and dirty plates were visible along the floor, making it readily apparent the woman and child lived in the attic at least part of the time.
Sutton immediately saw that neither of them posed a threat, and his eyes shifted to Hawk, who returned his gaze. Both of them tested one another, and before either made a regrettable move, Sutton tapped Hawk on the shoulder, indicating they needed to back out. In his right hand he held the pistol, prepared to use it on his companion if Hawk proved his beliefs mirrored those of the other three men.
Both the woman and the child shivered in fear for their lives, and Sutton didn’t know what brought them to the building, or the town for that matter, but he wasn’t about to shoot anyone in cold blood. Several agonizing seconds passed with everyone breathing heavily and no one uttering a word. Finally, Hawk holstered his gun and showed the woman his hands to indicate he meant no harm. Sutton began to holster his firearm, but his eyes didn’t leave Hawk for one second in case the man attempted some kind of trickery.
Sutton let Hawk slide past him so he could be a human shield between the younger man and the two terrified people huddled within a storage attic. Both of them navigated the stairs downward, and Sutton wondered if Hawk intended to inform Clean so the men could murder or enslave the duo. He didn’t like thinking the world had reverted back a century in one month’s time, but he knew people often clung to the past.
As they picked up the boxes near the front door, Sutton was about to speak when Hawk beat him to it.
“I’m no murderer,” the younger man confessed. “My way of thinking certainly isn’t perfect, but I’m not killing people for the color of their skin. If you’re going to say something to Clean, give me a head start, or just shoot me, but I can’t be that kind of extremist.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sutton said, pushing the door open. “We’re just two guys carrying boxes back to their group who didn’t find anything else.”
Hawk gave an uneasy smirk, knowing his choice wouldn’t have been so easy if one of the other three men had accompanied him inside. As Hawk brushed past him, Sutton worried just as much about where they were heading as he did about the scene upstairs. With so many unknown variables in play, he dared not say a word to Hawk, even if he trusted the man more than the others. Sutton hoped Clean changed his mind about their destination, or the members of Sutton’s other group had moved on, but he sensed trouble in his near future.
Eleven
Jillian sat beside the fire her father relit for cooking dinner just outside their chosen residence. None of the group had gone very far all day, and they seemed to be rather cozy staying inside a house that wasn’t trashed, having cooked meals prepared for them. Jillian knew the situation might last for her, but her friends would have to move on in the near future.
Vazquez and Gracine joined her outside, sitting on the ground near the fire as Luke kept Samantha occupied inside. Buster walked off to relieve himself in one of the nearby yards before returning to the group and sitting dejectedly between Jillian and Gracine. He missed Sutton, and hadn’t eaten much, despite being showered with affection and physical contact from everyone arou
nd him.
“We can’t wait much longer for Colby,” Vazquez said apprehensively. “At some point we have to keep moving, and looking for the rest of our families.”
“He should be here by now,” Gracine said with a concerned tone. “I’m afraid he did something stupid with those military types and got his ass killed.”
“Do we go back and check?” Jillian questioned in general, hoping someone would search for her if she got lost and found trouble.
“Look where?” Vazquez asked, raising his voice slightly. “He’s either a corpse with a bullet in his skull, or he’s a corpse looking to eat us when we go back there.”
Jillian stared into the fire momentarily.
“Maybe he couldn’t get a ride. We’ve gone through stretches where it isn’t easy to find a car.”
“He knew what he was doing when he stayed behind,” Vazquez said, his tone easing a little. “It was a sacrifice on his part for fucking up.”
“Those military types were assholes,” Gracine commented. “They’re supposed to be protecting what’s left of our country’s infrastructure, not pillaging off citizens.”
Luke walked outside, and when all eyes fell upon him, he looked taken aback slightly.
“Samantha’s asleep,” he reported. “A full day of scouring the neighborhood wore her down.”
“We were just discussing whether to callously abandon Sutton, or make an effort to locate him,” Gracine said.
“Isn’t it a little early to decide anything?” Luke said, sitting on a log Jillian’s father had placed in the yard for the group to use.
Jillian wondered if Luke worried about losing the group’s best protector when push came to shove, because he personally wasn’t adept at using firearms and bladed weapons. He worked with weapons sometimes, showing Samantha little tricks he’d learned from his partner, Albert, before the man was bitten. It showed that Luke still wasn’t confident about his aim, or his ability to put a knife through undead skulls.
Without electricity, mornings and nighttime were spent near the fire for cooking and warmth, giving the yard a summer camp feel. If not for the weight of their conversation, their gathering might have felt like many a night during her childhood in the town she grew to miss.
“This is pretty much the end of day two, and Colby could’ve made it on foot unless something happened to him,” Vazquez said.
“Do we take this to a vote?” Gracine inquired, attempting to be diplomatic with so many opinions in their group circle.
“Guys, I’m staying with my dad,” Jillian revealed. “I just wanted you to know, because I won’t be tagging along. He’s the last family I have.”
“What about you?” Luke asked Gracine.
“I don’t really have much family,” she answered. “The reason I drove a truck was to get away from my hometown.”
“I’m not sure where my sister is,” Vazquez said. “She could be anywhere between Washington and the Navy base. And those assholes wouldn’t let us through the front door.”
“Why didn’t you ask them about her?” Jillian inquired.
“She’s a civilian, and I don’t know if her politician connections would’ve gotten her safe passage or left her to fend for herself. Maybe it’s best I never know.”
He spoke the last words rather dejectedly, as though he’d already written her off in his mind.
“I’m not sure three of us can care for a child and a dog,” Luke said, realizing the group’s current predicament. “Why doesn’t your dad want to come with us?”
“His roots are here,” Jillian answered. “I thought maybe he’d want to leave after what happened to Mom, but he seems determined to make a go of it here.”
“Someone will loot this place,” Vazquez said. “Someone always does.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Jillian promised, “but I doubt I can change his mind.”
As though summoned, Varitek walked out from the house, and Buster immediately ran to him. Jillian didn’t know if the dog thought her father resembled Sutton, or perhaps he found a human to identify with, but Buster stayed by her father’s side as he settled in with the rest of the group around the fire.
“All of you discussing how to fix the world out here?” he asked no one in particular.
Everyone chuckled awkwardly a moment.
“Worried about your friend?” Varitek inquired.
“It’s a mixed bag,” Luke replied.
“It sounds like he helped you out of some tight jams.”
“He did,” Luke added, “but he came with some baggage.”
Varitek sat silently a moment, scratching Buster on the head, which the canine greatly appreciated.
“If he was that much of an asshole, I feel like you all would’ve gone your separate ways, or kicked him to the curb. Believe me, I’ve seen some assholes come and go through this town the past month, and it doesn’t sound like he holds a candle to them.”
Jillian missed her father’s sagely words of wisdom, and she appreciated him sticking up for a man he’d never met. Whether they wanted to admit it, or not, the group needed someone with Sutton’s skills around. He could fix most anything, knew firearms better than any of the others, and he possessed a sense for detecting people’s intentions almost immediately. True, he put his own needs above others much of the time, but in the end, he always took care of those around him.
She felt rather certain if they decided to check on Sutton, and she chose to accompany them, her father would tag along to protect her. Glancing over, she caught him staring her way with a smirk, at least as thrilled to have found her as she felt about learning he was alive.
“What are you kids planning on doing about your friend?” Varitek asked, his gaze wandering between each of their faces.
“We were about to take it to a vote when you walked outside,” Luke admitted.
“It seems to me the four of you are rather split on the issue,” Varitek said. “Not to sound callous, but you’ve got a child, a dog, and one another to worry about. It sounds like your friend was more than capable of getting himself here if he were able.”
“We also run the risk of passing one another if he’s taking a different route here,” Gracine noted. She looked to Varitek. “What would you recommend?”
“Maybe one or two of you could head to that area to see what happened. A quick recon trip of sorts.”
Everyone looked around with uncertainty, as though expecting others to take up the figurative torch and run with it.
“I’ll do it,” Jillian said, pushing the issue. “We all owe our lives to him several times over, so it’s the least any of us could do.”
Her father looked at her with a mix of pride and concern, about to speak when the sound of multiple vehicles down the road reached their ears. Jillian looked, seeing a pair of headlights briefly when a truck traversed a hill down the road from them.
“The fire,” Varitek said, bolting to his feet and grabbing a nearby shovel to scoop dirt on the campfire, smothering it rather quickly. “Everyone, get inside and find a weapon,” he ordered while tossing the last scoop of dirt over the dying embers.
Jillian looked to the horizon, seeing the last bit of daylight and the sun struggling to stay afloat over the sea of dry land. She wondered if the vehicles had spotted the fire, or detected other forms of local habitation. Running for the closest door, she chose to be prepared for the worst, but hope for the best.
Experience, however, taught her to trust no stranger if she couldn’t point a gun at them.
***
“Did you see that?” Hawk asked from the bed of the pickup truck where he and Sutton rode.
Despite the group finding another vehicle on a side street, the two of them were relegated to the same spot while Clean drove the car they discovered alone. Sutton grew concerned that Scruff had the man’s ear, and voiced so
me suspicions about their newest member. Knowing each of the men were nearly his equal in firearms, he dared not make trouble, choosing to follow their lead in silence until he reached a real or figurative impasse.
Hawk referred to the glow of a fire in the distance when the two vehicles entered the town of South Hill. Sutton had indeed spotted the orange shimmer, feeling helpless to keep his new allies from heading straight for it if they chose to. He hadn’t experienced their interactions with strangers, so he wasn’t sure of what to expect if his two most recent groups of allies came face to face.
Within a minute the two vehicles were parked beside one another, and Clean stepped out just long enough to address Scruff, who remained in the driver’s seat of the truck.
“Shall we see who’s camping out?” he asked rhetorically, since he made all of the decisions.
Sutton considered the idea terrible, even if they were approaching people he didn’t personally know. As dusk overtook the town, they could easily be shot by people who knew the lay of the land while approaching the campfire. It dawned on him that Clean didn’t seek any new friendships, and he likely figured the quickest way to locating goods was through the people who already searched for them, or scoured the town ahead of time.
One look to Hawk revealed the younger man shared his concerns about disturbing a camp. While Sutton suspected a small group awaited them, Clean and his crew couldn’t know if they were about to impede upon a single person or a small army. Sutton questioned how the group survived so long while carrying out such impulsive acts. He couldn’t count on Hawk as an ally if guns were drawn, and shooting commenced, but the man appeared to share his reservations.
“We going to do this quiet like, or go marching in there?” Scruff asked his leader.
“We’re going to let these people know who we are,” Clean said with an almost sinister grin.
The Undead Chronicles (Vol. 2): Darker Days Page 14
