by Angela Scott
He leaned forward. Resting his arms on his knees, he glanced at me. “Does it? From the way I see it, none of this should be happening. I already did my job. I delivered you to your family. You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know.”
“You and a kid? That’s a lot to ask of a person.”
“I completely understand. I feel that exact same way, but please.” I wasn’t against begging. I also wasn’t against tying him up and making him my prisoner if forced to either. “You can’t go. You can’t leave us. Not now. I need your help.” I pointed at the baby. “He needs your help. I can’t do this without you.”
He pressed his hands together as if in prayer and rested his fingertips against his mouth, obviously deep in thought. He stared at the wisp of a flame from a candle on one of the end tables. “Where did he come from, Tess, and none of that birds and bees crap?”
I settled back into the beanbag. “A dying old lady gave him to me.”
He nodded as if what I’d said made perfect sense.
“When?”
“Almost two weeks ago.”
He held his hands up to his mouth again, thinking. More so than I think I’d ever seen him do. “He doesn’t show signs of being sick?”
“No.”
“And you haven’t seen anyone else?”
“No.” I didn’t mention that I hadn’t really been looking since I got the kid. He didn’t seem to want long answers. “Have you?”
He shook his head. “No. You and the kid are the first.”
Of course. Had he seen other people, knowing what to do from this point on would be far too easy.
“They must’ve been leftovers,” he said.
I squished up my face. “What?” First, Snow White and now leftovers? He had a language all his own.
He leaned forward, dropped his hands in his lap, and looked at me. “People like us, Tess. People left behind in this mess. Only—” He shook his head again but didn’t finish.
“Only, what?”
He released his breath. “Do I really need to explain it to you?”
No, he didn’t. “Only everyone left behind is usually dead.”
He nodded. “I haven’t seen a ton of bodies, but enough to know that’s usually the outcome. Makes me wonder how a kid and an old lady could’ve lasted this long. It’s been months since all of this started.”
I hadn’t even thought about that. How had they survived?
“So, what’s your plan?”
Geez. Going right to the plan. I shrugged. “You’re pretty much looking at it.”
He released his breath again, a long, drawn-out breath. “Basically, your plan is to stay here at Walmart?”
He made it sound bad as if it wasn’t a plan at all.
“Cole.” I tried to act as though I knew what I was doing and changed the tone in my voice to match. “Walmart has everything I need to take care of that little guy — formula, baby food, diapers, medicine.” I pointed to the baby asleep in the playpen. “There’s enough clothes for him in this store, that as he grows, he could wear a new outfit every day until he’s an adult. I have books, puzzles, and I have crayons and pencils and toys to teach him whatever he needs to learn. We have everything right here.”
“Oh, alrighty then.” He nodded his head some more. “A plan. A plan to live in Walmart forever.” He dragged out the word in an annoying kind of way. “I didn’t realize that when I stepped inside I’d never be leaving again.”
I sighed. “I didn’t either, but here we are.”
“Only a few minutes ago, you said it was hard being young, on your own, taking care of a baby.”
“It is hard.” I raised my voice, but then quickly lowered it, not wanting to wake up the kid. “But you’re here now. It’ll be better. He’ll have both of us. We’ll figure it out together.”
He waved his hands. “Whoa, there, Billie Jean. The kid is not my son. I didn’t sign up for taking care of a baby and living in a Walmart for the rest of my life.” He pushed up from the beanbag and stood.
I stood, too, afraid and nervous this was too much for him. “If we can come up with a better plan, I’m all for it, but at least we have this.” I indicated the store. “It has everything we need for now.”
“For now. That’s the clencher.”
“Okay, fine. Then what do you suggest we do?”
He raised his arms but then dropped them to his sides. “Tess, I’ve been here less than ten minutes. I’m barely adjusting to the fact that you’re here, let alone a baby.”
I threw my arms around his waist and said the only thing I could think of. “You can have all the Skittles in the store. Every pack, big or small. You can have them all.” I squeezed him tightly and pressed my face against his chest. My mind raced to find the right words that would convince him to stay. The promise of candy was the best I could come up with. If he left, I didn’t know what I would do. “You can have first pick of everything. Everything. I won’t fight you about it, or at least I’ll try really hard not to. I’m open to listening to your suggestions and creating a better plan. Together we can do this.”
He inhaled and then slowly exhaled. Under his breath, he muttered words I couldn’t understand.
I hugged him harder. Maybe I wasn’t convincing enough. “I’ve missed you. I’ve thought about you almost every day. Now, you’re here when I need you the most. You might not believe that means anything, but I do. You can’t go, Cole. You just can’t. We’ll die without you.” My last sentence played dirty.
After a few moments of breathing in, breathing out and talking to himself, he wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me back. “Okay, okay. You’re right. You’ll probably die.” He sighed. “There is something about that kid that does intrigue me a little. It might be worth sticking around to figure out exactly what that is. And as for not fighting with me, don’t make promises you can’t keep. I know you too well.”
I gave him a giant squeeze. “Thank you. Thank you for finding us. Thank you for staying. Thank you for everything.”
He held me out in front of him. “Just so we’re clear, I get all the Skittles, right?”
I broke out in a huge smile. “Every last piece.”
Chapter 30
Cole flopped down on the edge of the bed beside me, no longer smelling of dirt and sweat. Irish Spring and mouthwash wafted toward me. He also donned new pajama bottoms but no shirt. It seemed odd, especially when he turned to me and asked, “Did you find them?”
He was such a strange person. I didn’t say so but held up the fuzzy socks I promised. “Are you sure you even need these?”
He smiled, took them from me, and tore off the tags before slipping them on. “My feet get cold.”
I gave him a funny look. “And your chest doesn’t?”
He laid down beside me but remained on top of the covers. “Not if I wear socks.” He wiggled his toes.
That didn’t make any sense. I had to remind myself that very little about Cole made sense.
He slipped his hands behind his head as he stared into the dark nothingness above us. “I can see why you’d want to stay here. That basketball hoop in the sporting section is calling my name, and I’m planning on checking out that R2D2 remote control over in toys.” He rolled his head to his side to face me. “I’m a huge Star Wars fan. Huge. Not sure if you knew that.” He rolled back and sighed. “Yeah, there’s definitely some perks to staying here.”
Sure, the variety of toys and games was a nice bonus, but hardly at the top of the list for reasons to stay put. I could scarcely walk to the other side of the store with the baby in tow without packing a diaper bag. Babies required a lot more than adults did. Trying to figure out how to travel with my own supplies, pet food for Callie, and everything the kid needed would be impossible. A back pack could only hold so much.
No diapers, no wipes? Oh, the horrors.
Staying right where we were, we could live comfortably for quite a while. Well, until supplies dwindled or expired
. I’d tackle that problem when it happened. Right now, heading out into the unknown, with no idea where to go or if we’d find what we needed once we ran out, terrified me.
Having a baby changed everything. Absolutely everything.
It was no longer about me or even about Cole.
It was all about what was best for the kid. Staying where we were seemed the only viable option. The risk simply wasn’t worth it.
But I also knew Cole wouldn’t see it that way even if I promised him all the basketballs and Star War toys the place had to offer.
“As much as I love Star Wars and Skittles, staying here is only a temporary fix, Tess.”
I turned and stared at him. What in the—how did he do that?
“Before you start thinking I have mind-reading powers, I don’t. It’s not all that hard to tell what’s going on inside your head. It’s like a conversation bubble forms above you when the gears inside start turning.”
Jeez. Maybe that was true, but it was still rather creepy.
He shrugged. “Creepy or not, when it comes to you I find it useful, and in a lot of circumstances, almost necessary.”
No freaking way! Not an angel-alien, my ass!
I was about to grab him by the shoulders and force him to be honest with me and tell me who he really was and where he came from, tell me everything. He turned his head and his eyes locked on mine in all seriousness. “At some point, you’re going to have to make some pretty big decisions before the decision-making process is taken right out of your hands and you have no choices at all.”
Those eyes of his, staring at me the way he did, took the questioning air right out of me, but whatever he was — alien or freak of nature — he was right. I hated admitting that.
I settled into my pillows. “Is it really such a bad thing to keep doing what I’m doing until I can’t?”
“It is if you’re not looking at the bigger picture. It’s almost like chess. You have to think three or four moves ahead if you’re going to survive. It seems to me that you’re not thinking ahead at all.”
I released my breath. “Honestly, I’m not thinking ahead. I wish I could, but how am I supposed to do that? Things change so fast, crap happens all the time. Having a plan seems pointless.”
“Well, when you put it that way, I guess there isn’t any point. I suppose we should just stay here forever.”
I really looked at him, knowing there was no way he was agreeing with me, but silently hoping he was.
“It’s called sarcasm, Tess.”
I knew it.
“We can stay for a while, figure things out, develop a decent enough plan, and then head out to find your family, and might I add, for the second time.”
His suggestion took me by surprise. I sat up, not sure I had heard him correctly. “What?”
“Your dad and brother. Aren’t you the least bit curious about them? Where they are?”
I shook my head. “What are you doing, Cole?”
He sat up as well but took his time in doing so. “I’m not doing anything.”
“I already told you.” I shifted away from him, putting a bit of distance between us. “They’re dead.” Those two words sat heavy on my tongue. Heavier than anything I’d ever felt before.
He held up a finger to me. “You said you think they’re dead. That’s not the same thing.”
I moved a little more. He reached out and grabbed my hand to keep me from going any farther.
“What if they’re alive? What if they’re wondering if you are, too? Wouldn’t you want to know? Wouldn’t you want to be certain?”
I shook my head again, not because I didn’t, but because he was suggesting the impossible. “Something horrible happened on that mountain.” I closed my eyes. A slideshow of images zipped across my memory, forcing me to relive those horrific moments again. “No one survived, Cole. No one.”
He poked me in the shoulder and kept poking until I opened my eyes. “You did,” he said. “You survived.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have.”
He grabbed my upper arm and gave it a little shake. “Don’t ever say that. You survived for a reason.” He indicated the baby in the playpen. “Could you imagine what would’ve happened to him if you hadn’t?”
I didn’t want to think about that. “But being alive right now, dealing with all of this, is hard. It’s really really hard.”
“So?” He shrugged off my words. “Life has always been hard. You have to roll with it and keep going, like I said before.”
I stared at him in utter disbelief. “Look around us, Cole. This isn’t a ‘roll with it’ kind of experience. I’ve seen people die horrible deaths, more awful deaths than a kid my age ever should see. I’ve witnessed stuff that defies science and logic. This whole apocalyptic nightmare is a total mind game at the highest level of crazy. I feel like I’m barely holding on as it is.”
He held up both hands, palms up, and shrugged. “And look how good you’re doing. You’re here, you climbed down a mountain on your own, and you’re alive. How incredible is that? You also have a deer, and cat, and a baby, all alive, too. Sounds to me like you’re already rolling with things just fine. It’s like that movie.” He waved his hand around as if trying to remember. “You know the one with the forgetful little fish?”
Not sure where he was going with the conversation, but I gave him the information he was looking for. “Finding Nemo?”
His eyes widened. “Yeah, that’s the one, and she says to the other fish, ‘Just keep swimming.’ Well, that’s what we do. We just keep swimming.”
Unbelievable.
He laid down on the pillows. “I sure hope somehow Ellen survived all this. Would be a shame if she didn’t. Such a funny lady.”
I continued to sit there, my mind whirling amid thoughts of famous comedians and cartoon movies.
Even if Dad and Toby somehow miraculously survived that monster of an experience back on the mountain, they could be anywhere. The last time we were separated, I had a partial message on my cell phone to guide me, but this time? I had nothing.
Cole tapped me with his fuzzy-socked foot. “If they were alive, and searching for you, where would they start looking? Where would they go?”
I shrugged. “I … I don’t know.”
“You didn’t discuss with your dad a plan or anything?”
“No, not really. He figured we’d do our best and try to survive one day at a time. As long as we were together, we’d be okay.”
“Ah, I see. So that’s where you get your inability to make long term plans. That whole one day at time thing, you must have gotten it from him.”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that. My dad is pretty amazing, very smart. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ha!” He pointed at me. “You said ‘is’ and not was. That’s telling, right there.”
It was telling. I became quiet as I processed why I would say it the way I did. What did I believe?
He sat up, bent his knees, and rested his arms on top. “Where would they go if they were out there searching for you? Where would they start?”
If they had been alive, they would’ve come to the place where we’d all been tied to the trees to keep from being blown away, the same place where Marco had died. They would’ve seen the bonfire I had built to keep Marco warm. They would’ve seen the smoke and come looking.
But they didn’t.
They hadn’t come.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Would they have gone back to the bunker on the mountain?”
“There would be no point. They wouldn’t be able to get inside without Richard.”
He nodded. “What about that big ski lodge? You know the one where we found the sock and the clues?”
I shook my head. “Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Okay. What about your town or your house? Would they have gone back there?”
Probably, but talking about Dad and Toby as if the
y were alive, where they might be, overwhelmed me. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Stop, Cole.” I held my hands up. “Just stop. I can’t make plans. I can’t think about my dad or Toby. I want to go to bed, okay? That’s all. I just want to go to bed.”
If Dad and Toby were alive, it changed everything and changed nothing all at the same time. I still had a helpless baby to think of.
He nodded slowly and placed his hand on my upper arm. “I’m sorry I upset you. I only wanted to get you thinking about the possibilities.”
I removed my arm from his touch and laid down. With my back to him, I rearranged the blankets around myself.
As tired as I was, I doubted I’d be able to sleep.
If he wanted me thinking, then Cole succeeded in doing just that.
Chapter 31
“It’s been three days, Tess.” Cole blew a batch of bubbles above the baby’s head. The kid went nuts and giggled like crazy, reaching his tiny hands into the air to catch them. It didn’t matter how many times Cole blew the bubbles. The kid reacted as if it were the first time every time. His excitement never waned.
“See, you say it’s been three days as if that’s a really long time, but when I think of how three days have passed, I think of it like, wow, it’s only been three days,” I said, barely looking at him as I inserted a new package of film into the Polaroid camera.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Shaking his head without saying a word, he went back to blowing bubbles.
He was frustrated. His pressuring me to decide, to put some sort of a plan together, didn’t help anything. It wasn’t as though I didn’t realize the seriousness of our situation, because I did. Almost every minute that I didn’t spend taking care of the baby I spent trying to figure out what to do.
And so far, I had nothing.
Every possible scenario had its negative side, and I didn’t mean things like I might have to sleep on the hard ground or eat handfuls of granola.
Oh, dear lord, no. No granola. Never again.
I meant death in all its horrible forms. Dying of thirst. Dying of heat. Dying of starvation. Dying of cold.