She held out a package of hamburger meat. It was cool, but not cold.
"Let's not risk it," I said. "Is there anything else?"
"We have plenty of canned goods," she said.
"How much of the cold stuff will we lose?"
"We ate most of it," she said. "There's this meat, and there's a bag of stir fry vegetables. They're kind of mushy. We have some cheese and mayonnaise left."
"I'll feed the vegetables to the goat," I said. "Let's pitch the rest."
I drove the truck and trailer, which was a new experience for me. Jen followed me in the Escalade. It was already dark by that time, and it was much too dark to drive without the headlights. I just hoped we could do what we needed to do without being noticed.
I wanted to get the trailer far enough away from us that when the horse decomposed, we wouldn't smell it. I drove two miles away. I didn't know if it was far enough, but there was a church there with a wide lot, and I didn't think I'd find an easier place to park.
I didn't want to leave the truck, because it was practically new and had a full tank of gas, but I also didn't want to be out there in the dark trying to figure out how to unhitch a trailer--something I'd never done before.
I parked it and got in the Escalade with Jen.
"You know," she said as we headed back to the house, "this might be the first time in a while that I will actually be able to relax a little. It's going to be nice to finally feel safe and be in a comfortable house for once."
"Yeah," I said, "I think this new place will be secure."
In the distance, I saw light. I couldn't tell what it was exactly. It was far away, and it just looked like a glow moving over the trees.
"What is that?" I said. "Is that another car?"
"I don't know," Jen said.
"Quick, turn your lights off, and pull off the road."
"But there isn't a place to pull off," she said.
"It doesn't matter," I said. "Just pull over on the shoulder--"
"There is no shoulder!"
"Just stop the car and turn off the engine!"
She stopped and turned everything off. The light grew and moved. Then bright headlights came over the hill.
"Get down," I said.
We both hunkered down below the dashboard. The lights got brighter as they got nearer.
"I left a note for Brian back at Blaine's house," she whispered. "I didn't want him to look for us and not find us. Maybe it's him."
"We don't know who it is," I said. "And we don't know if they are friendly."
The light filled the interior of the Escalade. The vehicle slowed to a crawl as it came by but didn't stop. There were abandoned cars on the roads everywhere, and ours looked like another one.
I sat up and looked out the back window once they had moved on. I watched the taillights disappear around a curve then continued to watch the reflection of the headlights on the trees until they were gone.
"I don't like feeling scared," Jen said, sitting up. "I should be used to it by now, but I'm not."
"No," I said. "You shouldn't be used to it. No one should."
Dinner was Vienna sausages and canned tomato soup. I was hungry enough that I didn't mind it, but eating like this everyday would get old quickly.
"I don't know why anyone would be out at night unless it was Brian or the Somervilles looking for us," Jen said.
"We were out after dark," I said, "but I see what you mean."
"Maybe you should have stopped them," Sara said. "They were probably okay."
"Probably," I said. "But I was being careful. Stopping cars on a dark country road just isn't something you do. I didn't want to lead them back to us here either. Like Jen said in the car, I feel safe here."
After dinner, I tried to start a fire in the fireplace. The smoke came back into the house. I adjusted the flue, but the smoke continued to fill the living room. We were all coughing and had to open the windows.
"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong," I said.
"My grandpa had a fireplace," Sara said. "He never used it, so he sealed the chimney to keep the birds and squirrels out of it."
"Sealed it permanently?"
"I don't know," she said.
"We're going to need a fire," Jen said. "We don't have any kerosene for the heater."
"What am I supposed to do about it?" I said.
"Someone needs to check the chimney," Jen said.
They stared at me expectantly.
"Oh," I said. "So you don't want to be coddled unless it is cold, dark, and raining and you need someone to crawl up on the roof."
"You are the man," Jen said. "It's kind of your job, I think."
"Funny how these gender roles conveniently pop up," I said. "Okay. Let's find a ladder."
There was an aluminum extension ladder hanging on hooks on the side of one of the barns. I carried it back to the house while Jen walked with me under an umbrella showing the way with a flashlight. I propped the ladder on the side of the house, took Jen's flashlight, and climbed up while she held the ladder for me.
There was a piece of plywood over the opening of the chimney with a concrete block on top of it to keep it from blowing off. I pulled it off, and the smoke hit me in the face. My eyes burned, and I coughed a little. I left the plywood and block on the roof and climbed back down.
"Problem solved," I said.
"My hero," Jen said.
"Whatever."
The rain continued through the next day.
Over breakfast, we'd discussed what to do with the horses. Jen and Sara decided to keep six--one for each of us, and three backups. We had no knowledge about horses, so we didn't know which six would be best. Sara thought we should keep the most docile. She had an idea of calling them and keeping the first six that came to us, which sort of made sense in a childlike way. Jen thought we should keep the healthiest. Once again, I made my point that we should rid ourselves of all of them, but I was outnumbered.
We spent our time that day doing much the same things that we'd done at Blaine's, but we did it in a real house, which made a huge difference in our moods. Plus, we had plenty of room to get away from each other when we wanted.
We also went through the house, trying on clothes, looking through closets and drawers, and being generally nosy.
I found a single-shot .410 shotgun and a box of shells in a bedroom closet. In the drawer of one of the nightstands in the master bedroom, I found a loaded .22 revolver and some racy photographs of Mrs. Lassiter holding the same gun and wearing only a cowboy hat.
The Lassiters' reading selection was limited to The Bible, Zane Grey, Louis L'Amour, and Good Housekeeping magazines, but we'd brought Blaine and Betsy's book leavings with us, too, so we had variety.
Around four that afternoon the rain finally stopped.
"The sun is coming out. It looks like we can do our supply run tomorrow," I said, standing at the front window and looking out.
"Good," Jen said, coming up next to me.
"Are you sure you want to stock up and hole up?" I said. "Haven't you been bored at all?”
"A little," she said, "but I'm a homebody. I've never liked going out much."
"I don't know if I'll be able to just hang out here all the time," I said.
"I won't make you do anything you don't want to do," she said. "But if we could ever get any real time alone, I think I could help alleviate your boredom."
We drove the pickup because we didn't want to alarm Charlie by arriving in a different vehicle. We pulled up in his driveway a little after 9 a.m. The old Cutlass was gone. The gas cans were gone, too. I knocked on the storm door, but he didn't answer.
I opened the door, and a piece of paper that had been wedged between the door and frame fell to the carport. It was a note from Charlie.
It said:
I have to know if Katie is okay. My brother has a little boat. I'm going to get it and cross the river. I probably won't be back. Take what you need from the house. Be careful.
>
Charlie
When I got back to the truck, I handed the note to Jen. She read it and passed it over to Sara.
"We'll come back and get whatever is left of his kerosene and food," I said.
"He'll never make it," Jen said. "She's probably gone now anyway."
"I know," I said, "but I can't blame him. He's just been sitting in that house all this time. He had to be losing it in there."
"At least he was alive," Jen said, sounding kind of defensive.
"That's no life."
"What do you want to do then?"
We weren't talking about Charlie anymore.
"I don't know," I said. "Right now, I want to go collect supplies."
"Only because I want to do that," she said. "What do you want?"
"Why doesn't anyone ever ask what I want?" Sara said. "Why do you treat me like I'm not here?"
It was shaping up to be an awesome day.
Jen and I looked over at Sara who was sitting next to the passenger door.
"Well?" Jen said. "Tell us."
"I think Charlie was right to find his daughter. I think we should find more survivors, too."
"You could go live with Mr. Somerville," Jen said. "That's what he wants to do."
"You keep saying that," Sara said. "You don't like having me around. You think I'm a naive kid because I don't talk much, but I know why you want me to leave."
"I don't see any reason why you shouldn't be happy," Jen said. "If you want to look for others, then you should."
"You want me to leave because you feel threatened by me," Sara said. "I know what's going on--"
"Bullshit! I--"
"Stop!" I said. "We have a lot of stuff to do today, and it is going to be dangerous, and we have one less person helping us. Let's focus, okay?"
"No," Jen said. "If the two of you don't want to do this, then go do what you want to do. I can do this by myself."
"Jen, you can't do this by yourself," I said. "That's the point. None of us can do this alone."
They were both quiet.
"Jen," I said, "I agree that it is wise to go out and collect supplies. There is no need for us to have to go out every day looking for food or fuel. It's too dangerous.
"But, I also agree with Sara. We should be trying to find others. We don't have to all live together, but we should help each other. If you don't want to go out, then you don't have to. I won't go every day, but I will be going. I need more of a purpose than just existing."
"It wouldn't be just existing" Jen replied softly. "I plan on having a real life for once."
"I plan on that, too," I said, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Now let's focus on what we have to do today."
CHAPTER 31
We approached Clayfield from the south. Our destination was the big chain stores and strip malls. The closer we got to the south side of town, the more congested it became. There was a long line of abandoned vehicles in both directions leading to the front entrance of Wal-Mart. Across the street from Wal-Mart was Lowes Home Improvement and a little rental place. Both of their entrances were blocked.
We turned around and entered the Lowes parking lot through the back and accessed the rental store that way. Our first goal was to get a moving truck.
There were infected everywhere. Some were still in their cars, unable to figure out how to open their doors. They'd been trapped in there for more than a week without food and water, yet they were still alive.
I parked in front of the rental store. There were two big box trucks parked out front. All of the infected in the street and in the Lowes parking lot started making their way toward us. They were slow but deliberate.
I got out.
"Honk if they get close," I said. "Be sure to give me enough time to get back."
Jen scooted over to the driver's seat.
"Be careful," she said.
I ran inside the store. I had no idea where they kept the keys, but I figured they would be behind the counter or in the office. I didn't see them out in the open, so I was opening drawers in the office desk when the horn honked. I ran back outside, and got in next to Sara.
"I didn't find them," I said. "Let's draw them away from the building, and we'll come back and try again."
Jen pulled away slowly, and the people followed.
"The keys might be in the register," she said.
"If that is so, then we won't be able to get them without electricity," I said.
She pulled around the other side of the building back toward Lowes. She neared the corner of the Lowes store, through a cluster of cars and stopped.
On the outside edge of the group of cars was a black Porsche 911.
"As far as I know there's only one person in Clayfield that has one of those," she said.
There were too many infected around for us to get out of the truck. So Jen drove slowly around to the rear of Lowes. The crowd followed us. When she got near the loading bays, she sped up, leaving them behind.
"I don't know why he would be here," she said. "He should have gone to Blaine's house like he said he would."
"Maybe he's looking for supplies like us," I said.
"In a Porsche?"
"You told him to drive it," I said.
When we came back around the building, we saw three men hurrying away from the front of the store--from the entrance farthest away from us. One of them was almost to the Porsche. The other two were headed to a blue pickup truck. We presumed they were infected like the rest, but then they all turned to look at us, and they were wearing masks. One of them pulled a pistol from a holster at his side. Another waved at us with both arms as if to attract our attention.
Jen started to creep forward.
"What do you think?" she said. "That one looked like he was going to get into Brian's car."
"They're armed," I said.
"So are we."
"They could be nice," Sara said. "We should at least go talk to them."
"Stop the truck," I said. "I'll walk up there and say hello. If there is any trouble, I'll pull my mask down to signal you. Don't question, just do your best with the rifle, then get the hell away from here. Don't lead them back to the stables."
"Why don't I just pull up there, and--"
"No," I said. "Stop the truck. If something happens, in a couple of days try to find Mr. Somerville. Okay?"
Jen nodded.
I stuffed one of the revolvers down the front of my pants and got out. I was more scared right then than I had been since it all started. At least I knew the intentions of the infected. These were healthy men, and I had no idea what sort of men they were.
My legs felt wobbly as I approached them. The one that waved came out to meet me. He was a big guy in new clothes. There was even a tag still on the sleeve of his brown Carhartt coat. He was wearing a black cowboy hat, and he had a machete hanging from his belt. I didn't see a gun, but I figured he had one stashed away somewhere.
"G' mornin'," he said.
"Good morning," I said.
"It's good to see there's more people out and about," he said. He looked past me to the truck. "How many of you?"
"Three here," I said. "More around."
"More around," he repeated, staring at the truck.
"How about you?" I said. "How many?"
"Oh, just the three of us," he said.
Another man came out of the store pushing a cart full of stuff. He stopped when he saw me.
The man in the Carhartt coat turned to see him then laughed.
"Looks like you caught me," he said. "Sorry. I didn't think it would be smart to tell you about everything."
"Yeah," I said. "I understand that."
I noticed the man by the Porsche begin to slowly move off to my left.
"You lucked out," Carhartt man said, laughter in his voice. "You got you a truckload of pretty girls."
"What's your name?" I said, feeling uncomfortable and trying to change the subject.
"You can call me Ha
nk."
The man continued to move around to my left in a wide circle.
"Where's he going, Hank?" I said.
Hank looked over his shoulder.
"Oh, he's just walkin' around," he said, casually.
"He's making me nervous," I said.
Hank turned and motioned for the man to stop. He obeyed.
"We probably shouldn't stand around here very long," Hank said, pointing toward the road. Infected people were approaching.
"Where are y'all stayin'?" Hank asked.
"I don't want to tell you that right now," I said. "You understand."
"Yeah," he said. "Y'all have plenty of guns? It's real dangerous out."
My gut was churning. My bad feeling was getting worse.
"That's a nice car you got there," I said, nodding at the Porsche. "Where'd you find that?"
"Around," he said. "If you like it, I'd be willin' to trade it."
"I don't have anything for trade," I said.
"Oh, I think you do," he said. "You got all kinds of good stuff over there."
"No," I said, backing up. "Not interested."
"You don't need two of them," he said. "Tell you what, let's go ask them what they'd like to do."
"No," I said. "We're leaving now."
He opened his coat. I didn't know if he was going for his gun, and I didn't want to wait and see, I turned and ran back toward the truck, pulling my mask down.
Jen was on the ball. My mask hadn't even cleared my chin when I heard the gunshot. I looked up, and she was hanging out the driver's side window shooting Mr. Somerville's shotgun left-handed. I didn't expect her to hit anything, but when I looked over my shoulder I saw Hank was stumbling around clutching his face with both hands, his cowboy hat at his feet. The other men were pulling weapons and running for cover.
Sara opened the passenger door and stepped out with the .22 rifle and fired. I tried to pull the revolver, but it hung on my pants. I got around the door of the truck and a bullet came through the windshield just above the wiper on the passenger side, spider-webbing the glass. I climbed in anyway and grabbed Sara, pulling her back into the truck.
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