“Guys, stop it,” Elna said, standing up. “Malin, it’s fine. Calm down. The doc and I talked about it, and we agreed that he would go look for water. It’s fine.”
Some of the heat seemed to leave Malin, and his shoulders slumped. “Okay, I got carried away. I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.” He bent and retrieved the compound.
“I will not be scolded like a child,” Mark said. “You get a pass this time because you don’t know me.”
“I wasn’t trying to scold you,” Malin said with a sigh. “My tone was wrong. Forget about it.”
“It’s forgotten,” Mark said, then added, “I see you didn’t catch anything on your hunt.”
“Not this time,” Malin said tightly. “I’ll try again tonight.”
“We can’t count on hunting to provide for us when the food is gone.” Mark knelt beside the cart and began arranging the supplies better, stacking them carefully. He picked up one of the wine bottles. “You can always barter for food in one of the towns. These will get you more food than you know what to do with.”
Elna felt a twinge of unease at the mention of the wine. It reminded her of Grover all over again.
“Can we not talk about the Gold Label wine that almost got us killed?” Malin said.
Mark slid the bottle back into the crate. “There are things we have to deal with, and discussions we must have, whether you like it or not. I suggest you check your attitude and try to be rational about these things. I don’t know where you came from, but out here, you’re either a predator or prey, and even the most harmless looking will readily stab you if you don’t watch your back.” He gave Malin a cold look, his eyebrows lowering until his eyes practically disappeared. It was a look that could have cut through steel, and Malin finally looked away.
Oh, God, will these two calm down? Elna thought, suppressing an urge to groan loudly. It wouldn’t help to participate in their mutual grumpiness.
Intentionally or not, they had moved so far inland that when they topped a rise and got a clear view of the surrounding landscape, Elna could no longer see the ocean. It was just steep hills and trees on all sides, speckled here and there with clearings that contained houses. She spotted a small town due south, and she thought about trying to press on until they reached it. But Raymond was in miserable shape. He’d tried to walk for a while, but he went so slowly, it was a waste of time.
“I guess we stop here for the day,” Mark said, parking the cart on the crest of the hill. “We’ll reach that town tomorrow. If you’re willing to part with your treasures, you can barter for more food and water. Otherwise, we’ll have to figure something out.”
Malin glanced at Elna, and she saw the heat in his eyes. He grumbled something under his breath. She was pretty sure it was, “Those damn Gold Labels again.”
Again, they opted not to start a campfire, afraid the light would be highly visible. They ate a little more of the meat and some dried berries. An unfulfilling meal, but Elna was too worried to eat anyway. They were moving so slowly, and the mainland felt as hostile as ever. As they sat eating, nobody spoke. Every face looked unhappy, and Malin occasionally grumbled under his breath.
“Just sleep as much as you can,” Mark said, pointing at Raymond.
Mark unrolled the sleeping bags, but Elna was too tired and anxious to lie down. She sat down and listened as Raymond sank into sleep. Her brain seemed to have gone into a low-power mode. She scarcely thought about anything but their immediate situation. She wasn’t trying to solve a dozen different problems, or thinking far down the road, or planning for the return trip. It was a strange condition, but she couldn’t pull herself out of it.
Your mind is protecting you, she realized, from the hopelessness of the situation.
Even then, realizing it so clearly, somehow, she didn’t feel it. Her mind let the reality drift just out of reach.
She lost track of time, staring off into the darkening sky, as Raymond resumed his god-awful snoring. Mark sat with his back to them, his medic kit in his lap.
Anyone tracking us can just following the sound of Raymond, Elna thought.
She heard footsteps, but she recognized them this time. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Malin walking out of the forest. He hadn’t caught anything, but he had a funny look on his face, almost as if he were in pain. He approached the row of sleeping bags, stopping near Mark.
“I thought you were taking first watch,” Mark said.
“Look, I owe you guys an apology,” he said. “I’m sorry I got irritated earlier. Doc, I had no right to talk to you that way. We needed water. You did what you thought was best. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“It’s fine,” Mark said, without bothering to look at him. “We’re all on edge.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it,” Malin continued, and he turned to Elna. “I know it’s not my place. It’s your decision to make, Elna, but I agree with the doc about the wine. I think we should barter them for some long-term provisions in the next town.”
Elna scarcely had the energy to argue with him. Something in her resisted. Partly, it was because the wine bottles were the only things of real value they’d brought with them. Once they were gone, they had nothing else to offer. Also, she had to admit, she hated to part with the last of the pre-EMP Gold Label. It felt a little like getting rid of the family picture albums.
Even though she didn’t say anything, Malin must have read the response on her face—or perhaps he just knew her well enough by now. “I know it sucks to get rid of them, but the thing is, lugging those bottles around makes us a target,” he said. “We’re already being followed by thieves who want to kill us and take them. If we don’t get value out of them while we can, we’re liable to lose them along the way, and then they won’t do us any good.”
Mark finally turned and looked at him. He seemed almost proud, giving Malin a nod and a brief smile.
“Elna, if you don’t want to do it, I understand,” Malin continued, “but the way I see it, with plenty of good food, we’ll make better time. Heck, maybe we can trade for a larger cart or even a working vehicle. Anything to pick up the pace. What do you say?”
Elna bowed her head. For a moment, she felt like crying, but she bitterly chastised herself.
Idiot. You brought those wine bottles for this exact reason. Don’t get sentimental now, not when it puts our lives at risk.
“It makes sense,” she said. She willed herself to say it. “Let’s talk about it some other time, okay? Let’s talk about anything else. Better yet, let’s not talk at all right now.”
And with that, she lay down on the sleeping bag.
16
“Why is he so weak?” Elna said. “His condition seems worse.”
Raymond was curled up on the flatbed cart, encased in a sleeping back. Though he didn’t snore, occasionally he sighed or groaned, as if he were in pain.
“He’s got an infection raging in his arm,” Mark said. “I’ve done what I can for him. I cleaned out the wound, but we don’t have antibiotics. Maybe at the clinic in Manchester…I just don’t know.”
“Could he get better without them?” Malin asked.
“He could,” Mark replied, “but then again…considering his state…” He left the thought hanging.
They were following a dirt road back to the southwest, aiming for the small town they’d spotted the night before. The cart rattled and thumped on the rocks and gravel, but Mark did a good job of avoiding the rougher patches.
After a few long, winding miles, the dirt road joined up with a major road, where abandoned vehicles were waiting once again, discarded bones of a dead world. This stretch of road was long and relatively straight, giving a long view in both directions. Elna found it disconcerting. She felt dangerously exposed.
They turned south, and with the smoother road, Mark picked up the pace significantly. Soon, Elna found herself on the verge of jogging, Malin taking long strides beside her. The wilderness gave way to a small town, with quai
nt little buildings set in overgrown yards on both sides of the highway. It seemed abandoned. It didn’t appear to be the same small town they’d spotted earlier from the hilltop.
“Doesn’t look like we’ll be doing any bartering here,” Elna said, gazing at a house that had broken windows and wide-open doors.
They passed through an intersection where the scattered remnants of a number of cars remained. A bad accident had happened here, probably right as the EMP hit, and Elna saw shattered windshields and crumpled hoods. She even spotted what appeared to be dried blood splattered on the side of a driver’s dented door. Fortunately, Mark sped past the accident, so they didn’t see much more than that.
They’d gone maybe fifty yards past the intersection when Elna heard the sound of a car door being opened and shut somewhere behind them. She dared a glance over her shoulder at the accident site. In the midst of the mess, Elna saw people huddled in the angle formed by three vehicles. She assumed they’d been camped out in one of the cars. She couldn’t tell how many of them there were, but then one of the people rose up. Though he was a good hundred yards behind them, she recognized his wild mop of hair and thin frame.
“Oh gosh, there he is,” she muttered. “Tomek.”
“Are you kidding me?” Malin said, turning to look behind them.
“Apparently, they were camped in one of the vehicles,” Elna said. “We must’ve walked right past them without realizing it.”
Tomek and the others just stood there, as if they were waiting for something to happen.
“They’re not following,” Elna said.
“They will,” Malin said. “They’ll wait until we get down the road, and then they’ll come creeping along.”
Mark brought the cart to a halt and signaled for Elna to take the handles. As she did, he picked up Raymond’s walking stick and moved up beside Malin.
“Ready to give them a good scare?” Mark asked.
“Yeah,” Malin said with a sigh. “Let’s do it.”
As Elna watched, Malin picked up the compound bow and fitted an arrow, and Mark raised the stick above his head like a club. Then they took off running toward the intersection. Mark gave out a primeval roar, and the group of people huddled in the intersection immediately took off running. They moved together, like a pack of wild dogs, headed across the intersection and up a narrow side street. A three-story brick storefront stood at the end of that road at the top of a low hill, and they headed for it.
“Yeah, you’d better run,” Malin cried, his voice cracking from the strain. “I don’t want to see your ugly faces ever again. You got that, Tomek?”
Tomek and his crew raced through the shattered front door of the storefront and disappeared into the shadowy interior. Malin and Mark came to a stop at the intersection, waiting and watching for a few seconds, then they trudged back to the cart.
“How much farther?” Elna didn’t realize that Raymond had spoken at first. His voice was so weak, it was almost lost in the morning breeze.
“To Manchester?” she asked. “Not far. Doc says we might get there tonight, if we make good time.”
“We wasted too much time wandering through the woods, señora,” Raymond said. He was curled up on the cart, mostly hidden inside his sleeping bag, but Elna saw one bleary eye peeking out. “Doc should have stuck to the highway. Why did we take so many winding trails and go all over the place?”
“Well, he was trying to lose our pursuers,” Elna replied. “We failed, but it’s okay, Raymond. Don’t worry. Just rest. We’ll be there soon. Very soon.”
Mark came up beside her and took the cart handles, setting the walking stick on the cart.
“They’re like cockroaches,” Malin said, tucking the bow among their supplies. “They scatter into the cracks and crevices as soon as you come for them.”
As Mark started to push the cart, Raymond moved suddenly. First, with a long groan, he sat up, working his upper body out of the sleeping bag. Then, he reached up and fumbled for the cart handle.
“I can walk for a while,” he said. “Let me walk.”
“Are you sure about that?” Mark asked.
“Yes, we need to go fast,” Raymond said. “I have rested enough. I can walk fast for a good hour or two, and we’ll make better time. I know I can. Where is my walking stick?”
“Right behind you,” Mark said.
The walking stick was propped beside the bow next to a stack of supplies. With one hand, Raymond tried to pull himself to his feet using the cart handle. With the other, he reached for the walking stick, but the sleeping bag was still wrapped around his feet. Elna saw the accident unfolding a split second before it happened, and she tried to call out a warning. Only the briefest little sound came out. Raymond took a step and stumbled. Losing his balance, he went to his knees, his right hand slamming into the walking stick and the bow, driving both of them against the stack of supplies, which toppled over in spectacular fashion. The box containing their leftover meat fell on its side, and the remaining slabs of venison flopped out onto the dusty road.
The crate of wine bottles had been carefully placed between boxes, but it tipped over. A couple of bottles slid out of their compartments and fell. Elna’s heart stopped. One of the bottles landed on the side of the meat box and slid down almost delicately onto a big venison steak. The second hit a corner of the box and spun, gold foil glittering in the morning sun. The neck of the bottle impacted the road, and the bottle broke open, gushing dark-red wine along the northbound lane and into the gutter.
Cursing under her breath, Elna pushed past Malin and Mark and went to their toppled supplies.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Raymond said. “I didn’t mean to. I slipped.”
Elna righted the box of meat, picked up the filthy slabs of venison, which had acquired a generous layer of road dust and debris. She rewrapped it and put it back in the box anyway. Then she picked up the other loose wine bottle.
“It’s like burning a pile of money,” Mark said.
“I’m so sorry,” Raymond said again. It sounded like he was crying.
Elna didn’t have it in her to comfort him at the moment. She was furious at the waste, not just of expensive wine but of the memory. At least it might have helped them. Instead, it was seeping into a culvert like gray water from a sewer pipe.
Fighting the anger, she began restacking their supplies. Malin stooped down to help, but she waved him off. As she put the unbroken wine bottle back into the crate, she noticed that two of the compartments were now empty. That made one bottle unaccounted for. She rooted through their supplies but didn’t find it.
“What the hell?” she said. “A bottle is missing. Two fell out. One broke. I put the other one back in the crate, but there are still two empty compartments. How is that possible?”
She turned and looked at Malin, at Mark, but they were just staring back with confusion.
“One of them is missing,” she said. “It’s not here.”
As her words sank in, Malin’s face became tense, his lips pressing together into a tight line as his eyebrows drew down. He turned slowly to glare at Mark, who gave him a blank expression in return.
“What are you looking at?” Mark said.
“We’re missing a bottle of wine,” Malin said. “It didn’t happen on my watch. I would have heard something.”
“Would you?” Mark replied, tightly. “Are you suggesting I let someone slip into the camp and steal a bottle? Or, perhaps, you’re suggesting I drank it. Which is it, Malin?”
“Nobody would be dumb enough to drink Gold Label,” Malin said, “so clearly it was pilfered. Did you fall asleep during your watch? Did you wander off to find water?”
Elna could see the tension in Mark’s neck, the strain of tendons as he clenched his jaw. “Maybe it’s neither. Maybe you wandered off to do a bit of fruitless hunting while you were meant to keep watch. Is that possible?”
“No, it’s not,” Malin said, almost yelling, “because I didn’t. When
I kept watch, I kept watch.”
“Incorrect, you fell asleep during your first watch,” Mark said, his voice getting lower and more threatening. “You haven’t been particularly competent at any point on this journey.”
It was finally enough to break through Elna’s anger. She stepped in between them.
“Just stop it, both of you,” she said. “This is ridiculous. We don’t know what happened to the missing bottle. For all we know, it fell off the cart along the road somewhere and no one noticed. That makes us all equally liable, so just drop it.”
She tried to meet Malin’s gaze, but he was too busy staring daggers at Mark. “I don’t trust this guy,” he said, flapping a hand in Mark’s direction.
“If you don’t trust me, then maybe we don’t need to travel together,” Mark said. “I offered to help because I know the way, but I don’t need this.” He let go of the cart handles and took a step back. “Help yourselves. Find your own way, deal with your own problems. Go ahead.”
“No, no,” Raymond said weakly. “We need his help to push the cart. This was my fault. Please.”
“I’ve had about enough of this guy and his mouth,” Mark said, moving around Elna and taking a menacing step toward Malin. He started to raise his hand, and Elna thought for a second that he might backhand Malin across the face. But then he seemed to reconsider and lowered his hand, letting his sheer height do the intimidating for him. “Did I come to you people for help? No, I was safe at home, minding my own business, and you came to me.”
“Are you suggesting you have nothing to gain from going to the clinic?” Malin said. Though he was leaning back slightly, he did not back away from the towering doctor. “That it was a completely selfless act?”
“Of course it wasn’t selfless. I need medical supplies if I have any hope of treating those who come to me for help,” Mark said. “As I told you, there’s safety in numbers. I might be a big guy but I could just as easily be overwhelmed. Predator or prey. That’s how it works out here. Look, I don’t need this. I’ll turn right around and head home. You guys can find your own way, and good luck on the road.”
Island Refuge EMP Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 41
