by E. M. Fitch
"Michael," Kaylee breathed in surprised. "You scared me."
"I thought we were heading out from the front," Michael said. "Have the plans changed?"
"Only for us," Andrew answered, coming to stand next to Kaylee. Michael shook his head as a slow smile spread.
"That's not the way it works here," he said. "C'mon, back with me now."
Kaylee went to argue, hoisting the straps of her backpack higher, but the very audible, surprisingly loud click of a gun cocking stopped her. Michael smiled down at them, his hands spread and open, palms facing them. It wasn't his gun. But it was his warning. Michael nodded towards the front of impound lot. They turned, walking alongside the fencing until the line of waiting vehicles was clearly in front of them. It wasn't until they were in full view of the population of the Circle, some still scampering about the nearly empty lot and others just the impression of faces, pressed to the reflective glass of the buses and motorhomes, that Kaylee felt comfortable speaking again. She could only hope the Michael would feel at least some hesitation at shooting her in front of so many witnesses.
"We can't go with you," she said into the silent bubble around the small group. The scattering of people, the packing of bags and hauling of canned foods to the buses was all very loud only a few feet away, but somehow, in the dark along the outside of the fence, out of the pools of light that were still flooding sections of the lot, it was quieter, almost still. "Our family is out there. We can't go any further from them."
"Someone just leveled a city, not that far from us either. We need all the man power we can get right now," Michael said. Here and now, he was the charismatic charmer, a leader if he wanted to be, though he seemed content to let Patricia step into that public role. Kaylee could see it though, see how easily it could be him, if he wanted it. "It won't be like this forever, running and scampering about for food. That's not the plan, it won't work long term, we know that."
She turned to face him. He was staring down at them intently, his eyes easily passing between the three. His features were casual, not stressed, and almost, Kaylee thought, gleeful. He was not upset to see that city burn.
"What is your plan?" she asked, watching for any sign of distress. He didn't flinch.
"Build something better," he answered without pause.
"So why haven't you started?" Kaylee asked, all the questions she had bubbling up, even though the nearby engines were revving. "Why all the running around? Why not find a spot, build a wall, set up crops?"
"Why bother if it would be torn down again?" The snide voice came from behind them and Kaylee spun, taking in Patricia striding towards them.
"Who-"
"It doesn't matter," Patricia said, cutting Andrew off. "None of that does. We gave the order to move out, you are supposed to be in the bus."
"We're not going," Anna said. She came to stand close to Kaylee's elbow, as did Andrew. Neither said another word.
"It's not an option," Michael said smoothly. "Later maybe, but once we give the order to move, we move."
"We're not-"
"You are!" Patricia yelled. "You will be charged with jeopardizing everyone's safety through non-compliance if you do not."
"Isn't that just another way of criminalizing anyone who doesn't agree with you?" Andrew accused as Anna asked, "What the hell does that mean? Charged?"
"Why do you keep all these people locked up with you? You give them no sustenance, no real safety, no way to feed themselves. You keep them miserable and scared and suspicious of each other. Why do it?" Kaylee asked, firing up. "Because you're afraid? Afraid that if they could, they would run? Afraid they'll find someplace better, tell all your secrets?"
She wasn't sure where the accusations were coming from, for all she knew, they could be baseless. But something about the conversation she overheard the other day had stuck with her. They didn't want anyone leaving, and especially not to find another group of survivors.
"That's why all the cars are stripped around here, not because you need the parts, but to keep anyone from getting out."
The men behind Michael, before just faceless shadows, all shifted in discomfort. Kaylee had hit a nerve. Patricia hissed low between her teeth, a snake ready to strike. Michael alone stood unmoving, staring down at Kaylee with a look of cold calculation. She heard, above all the restless murmurs, the soft click of a holster being undone.
"I'll take them to the bus!" Rebecca cried, appearing out of nowhere from behind the fence. "I was looking for you three. C'mon, I got a spot for all of us."
Kaylee's eyes were stuck on the barrel that was slowly being taken from the holster on Michael's hip. Sudden fear clogged her chest and she was unable to respond. His eyes bore down on her, fathomless pits of black, void of emotion.
"That sounds great, Rebecca, thank you," Anna said, her voice too bright, forced. The hand that gripped Kaylee's was firm and familiar. She followed Anna's lead and looked forward to the illuminated messiness of Rebecca's hair. Andrew walked closely behind her.
The entrance to the bus was on its other side so they crossed in front of a motorhome to get there.
"Did you see him pull that gun?" Andrew hissed. Kaylee nodded.
"It looked strained over there, figured you might need rescuing," Rebecca said, her voice wobbly. Anna thanked her.
Kaylee's hip caught on the edge of the motorhome as she squeezed through. She was having trouble focussing on where she was going, her mind still replaying the image of Michael casually removing his gun. His eyes were intent and focused, not at all clouded by what he was contemplating doing.
She had never before felt truly a part of the Circle, not really safe in their company, and she knew now that she never would.
"I don't think we have any other choice," she whispered. Andrew stopped walking and caught her eye. He nodded, knowing exactly what she was talking about.
~
They had boarded the bus with Rebecca, letting Michael and Patricia see them through the dirty glass windows. But they left their bags at the door. There was no one else on this bus yet, though some of the seats were already packed with people's belongings. They must have been out collecting the rest.
"We can't stay," Anna whispered to Rebecca. She didn't seem surprised. "You can come with us."
The older woman considered it for a moment but eventually shook her head. She smiled softly, resting her hand for a moment on Anna's shoulder. "You've been kinder to me than most. I'll cover for you, for a bit."
Andrew and Anna thanked her, rising to leave. Kaylee paused.
"Michael said they had a plan, that this wasn't the goal," she said quickly, talking fast. "What did he mean?"
"Oh, that," she said, looking startled. "I guess you haven't heard Michael really speak before, he's been out a lot lately. He makes speeches sometimes, tells us all about the group he was kicked out of. Apparently there's thousands of them, somewhere up North. But they're crazy. They have awful rules, very strict, and if you break one, they kick you out.
"It's safer though, aside from the people. They have walls and food, crops, stores, schools, everything. Like it was before," her voice turned softer, the longing plain.
"But they're dangerous?" Andrew asked, confused. Rebecca nodded.
"He wants us to take it."
"Take what?" Anna whispered.
"Everything they have."
~
The chaos of the Circle was dying down. The fires were all snuffed out and almost everyone was in, or lingering near, their vehicles. Kaylee didn't see Patricia or Michael. She didn't have time to wonder where they might have gone. Andrew was already moving towards the front of the motorhome before them. He was slouched over, keeping his head below the line of windows. Anna was directly behind her, brushing into her every time Kaylee stopped short, waiting for the crossing of hurried footsteps to move on or the conversation to die down with distance.
Andrew gestured for them from a dozen yards away. The girls ducked their heads and ran, both t
rying to keep their movements light on the pavement. The line of motorhomes and buses stretched out into the night, well passed the open gates of the impound lot. But they couldn't steal any of those vehicles. They were too large, too bulky. There were too many other vehicles in front of them. Their only shot was to carjack the lead jeep, the one they had first passed to get back into the lot, the one Jim had been so casually leaning against, not protecting, not watching for any living threats.
Because why would anyone in the Circle want to break away and steal their supplies? It would be suicide, knowing that the Circle controlled the area and the only other shards of civilization were lunatics that had walled themselves away up North.
Which is exactly the direction Kaylee, Andrew, and Anna would head. North. To the explosions, the burning city, and possibly beyond.
But not back here. If they stole this jeep, that door would be forever closed to them. Patricia and Michael would never let them just stroll back.
They passed the last of the motorhomes. A pair of jeeps, the ones with the guns mounted, were parked off to the side, a small group of men loitering between them. Not one looked up to notice Kaylee or the rest. To be safe, they edged to the opposite side of a van. Kaylee was surprised to find the hood warm when she let her fingers rest on it. She had assumed it was abandoned, but no, apparently it belonged to someone in the Circle.
It was odd though, she had never seen it circled with the rest.
Yet, she could plainly see when she looked inside, someone was definitely using it. The back was filled with cans. Kaylee thought to reach in and take a few before mentally chastising herself. They could find food. Just because they were going to steal a car, didn't mean they had to start stealing everything they needed. But even as the admonishment went through her mind, something else caught her eye.
They weren't normal cans. On first inspection, in the dark, they seemed to be. But the shiny metal sides were covered in something other than labels. Duct tape. They were all wrapped in the stuff. She almost missed it. And there was something else, something that reminded her of the fuses she and Jack set in her hometown. Each can had a short, black fuse sticking out at odd angles, like cherry bombs stuffed in soup cans. They weren't alone either, half a dozen boxes covered the floor of the van. Dynamite. The long tubes were packed in sawdust, fuses already curling from the ends.
Before Kaylee could inspect further, Andrew tugged on her arm. The men across the street were breaking up. It was now or never.
The final jeep in the line was twenty yards ahead, parked on the side of the road. It was alone, waiting for the signal to pull out. Its driver, Jim, was just where Kaylee and Andrew had last seen him, leaning against the side of the jeep, staring off into the woods. A cigarette hung out of his mouth. A thin curl of smoke lingered in the air around his head, a bizarre halo.
He barely even looked over as Andrew's fist landed on his skull.
It sounded so loud, his body collapsing to the pavement, Andrew's fist coming down after him; but in reality, it was muffled. His cry was cut off, something in the way Andrew was hitting him stopped him from yelling. Anna slid into the driver's seat, Kaylee sitting next to her. She opened her mouth to call for Andrew to get in when Anna turned to her.
"I can't drive stick," Anna hissed. Without waiting for Kaylee to say that she could, Anna launched herself from the driver's seat. Jim had just staggered to his feet, Andrew wheezing. Anna's fist connected with his jaw and sent him flying back down, her tiny body landing on top of his. Kaylee had enough time to see Andrew's boot disappear into Jim's chest, hear the whoosh of air as it was forced from his chest, before she twist the keys in the ignition and felt the engine come to life in the vibrations of the steering wheel.
When Anna and Andrew jumped into the jeep, Anna in the back seat and Andrew right next to her, Jim was still faintly stirring on the ground. Alive, though hurt. The tires crunched over gravel as Kaylee directed it onto the road.
She didn't turn the headlights on, she didn't dare. She pressed hard on the gas and the jeep lurched, revving loudly. The gear shift caught when she tried to shift, but only for a moment. They shot forward, a dark streak in the night.
If they weren't so focused on escape, on getting away as fast as possible, if the lights had been on or they had been more careful, she might have seen him.
The jeep was fast, yet everything it drove towards seemed frozen, like Kaylee was watching a movie in slow motion. She caught a glimpse of him in jerky frames. A look of shock and surprise at the jeep hurtling towards him, the barrel of a gun, a Glock like hers, rising up to point at them. He wore a dark hooded sweatshirt, no jacket, and for a bizarre, unreal moment, Kaylee thought how stupid that was, when it was clearly too cold to be without a coat.
She jerked the wheel, moving it fractionally away from him, but the moonlight glinted off the barrel and without thought, she pulled the wheel back. Her foot was like lead, pushing, pushing, and she hit him before he could get a shot off, before he could even try to stop them.
His body connected with the front grill of the jeep and rolled. She saw, with too much clarity, the moment his skull connected with the corner of the windshield, denting the bone with the force of the jeep's frame.
His body landed with a thud on the pavement behind them, rolling to a lifeless stop. It all happened so fast, that by the time Kaylee processed it, his body was barely distinguishable against the dark concrete, a blur on the pavement. The wind whipped passed the windshield, hissing in her ear. She could hear the faint pants from Andrew next to her. His hands were pressed to his side. Anna was trembling. Kaylee could feel it in the way her headrest quivered where she gripped.
"Is he dead?" Kaylee asked wildly. "Did I just kill him?"
A familiar feeling swamped her, rushed from her stomach and through her throat. The car swerved, her fingers slipping on the steering wheel. Andrew leaned over and caught it in time as she veered to the side of the road. She was pushing through the door before the jeep rolled to a stop, tripping over her feet as vomit spewed from her mouth.
"It's okay," Anna murmured, getting out of the car and putting a reassuring hand on Kaylee's back.
"Kay, we have to go," Andrew muttered, now seated behind the wheel.
She hardly heard him. Her eyes were stinging, her gut roiling. Anger, fierce and hot and stronger than she had ever felt before boiled inside her. There was a rock, just below her, the size of a baseball. She was hunched over it as the last of her stomach contents were forced from her. She stooped and picked it up. She threw it as hard as she could at the nearest tree, watching as the bark splintered off on impact. She threw another and another. And when Andrew called out again, she turned. She kicked the tire, brought her fists down again and again on the hood of the car until the metal bent and her palms ached.
"Kay," Anna murmured, finally bringing her arms around her whole chest and squeezing tightly. Her arms were shaking but firm, too. Kaylee went to fight her off but deflated, nearly sinking to the pavement before Anna lifted her up and pulled her off the side of the road and into the back seat. Andrew hit the gas and the car went forward, bouncing over the curb.
The car was silent except for the whistling of the wind. It blew through the cabin, sweeping her hair back and then dragging strands passed her eyes. She stared forward, through the cracked windshield.
"I'm sorry," she said after a few miles. "I used to be a good person."
"You're still a good person," Andrew said gently.
Kaylee didn't bother to answer.
Chapter 13
"So, I'm your sister-in-law, huh?" Emma muttered, twisting to get her jeans back up and fastened. They had stopped, for the first time in hours, after Jack complained he had to take a piss. The men of the New North America grunted, indicating that he should go right ahead and do so on the side of the road. It was only after a very pointed look towards Emma, who was squirming herself, that they let her go off the road. Not too far, of course, and not alone, whic
h Emma would have preferred. Still, though embarrassing, it was infinitely better to relieve herself in front of Jack instead of those men.
Jack's back was to her and she kept turned away, aware of the sounds of his urination.
"Yeah, well, I thought it'd sound more serious, you know?" he answered.
"So it's not real."
"Well, it would be. At least for me," Jack said. He finished up and Emma heard his zipper being pulled. "But when your sister finds us, let me ask her first."
Emma couldn't help a small and pained smile at that. She kept trying to tell herself, this is what we wanted. They were headed north to find others, find the best chance of survival with a pocket of people who would have been least affected at the outbreak. That's why the goal was Alaska.
And here they were, arriving in the New North America.
The men had told them little, but enough, of the place they were taking them. The group had been out scavenging, but as soon as the explosion sounded they had been ordered to check it out. Their base camp was only a few hours walk away.
It was close to how they had envisioned it. Over two years ago, when the infection first swept the world, the northern most part of the continent wasn't much affected. The worst problem was the lack of supplies. People got sick, may died of disease and starvation. But some made it through. Food was still scarce though so, slowly, people starting migrating south. But they were smart about it.
"We built a wall, a huge one, you could probably see this beast from space!" said one of the men. He was short with brown skin and brown eyes and hair so black that the coating of road dust showed plainly. His name was Marco. No one refuted him, though Emma still thought it was probably a bit of an exaggeration.
They kept building, pushing the fences out further and further. The wall was the most solid, but from there, fences rippled out, circling ever further. They moved down the coast, pushing inland and south and killing every infected caught within the fences.
