Tonight, I’ll get my rest. And tomorrow, I’ll get in my car and find a place to heal up, and then I’ll find Bennett. And maybe someday, maybe sooner than we think, we’ll all find a cure.
Dr. Bradley and I walk back to the cafeteria together. The hall’s somehow brighter now, as we leave B Block far, far behind.
Chapter 21 – This is Good Luck
The hospital is bustling with activity by the time I’m ready to head out the next morning. Glory, the kids, and the younger teens have arrived, and all of the supplies have been transferred from the various bases across the city. Regular watch duties have been assigned to protect the boundaries that the Gov had set up to keep the infected ones out, and everyone is actually starting to settle in and choose their personal living quarters.
I jump back as a little boy runs to his mother, heedless of my presence, in his desire to get to her. She sweeps him up in an enormous hug, and swings him around and around while he makes whirling airplane noises. I suddenly recognize them as the sick woman from Deirdre’s group, and her companion’s son. She looks amazing.
I arrive at the main doors of the hospital to find Tim, Kimberly, and Dr. Bradley already waiting for me next to the armored truck that the Ims have packed. They’re heading out today, and agreed to give me a ride to my station wagon on their way.
None of them are excited about me leaving before my shoulder has the chance to heal, especially Dr. Bradley, but they all understand why I have to go. With all we know about the virus I carry, it would be highly irresponsible to let me stay.
Dr. Bradley hands me a prescription bottle with a hand printed label containing the antibiotics and painkillers that he’s been giving me for the past few days. He repeats the instructions that he’s printed on the bottle aloud, and then makes me repeat them back to him.
“And you need no less than a month of rest. Two would be better,” he adds, then begins a list on his fingers: “No heavy lifting, only sleep on your right side, or on your back, don’t forget to change your bandages, and keep an eye on your cuts. If they start to look infected -”
“I get it,” I tell him, laughing. “I swear I do. I’ll take great care of myself.”
“You’d better,” Bradley says.
“Where are you going to go?” Kimberly asks.
“There’s a MegaMart just outside of town,” I reply. “Doc says that the Gov used to have a setup there, so it should be safe, and there should be supplies. There might even be a radio so that I can check in here.”
I pause, thoughtful. “Where are you guys going to go?”
Tim and Kimberly smile at each other, and Kimberly replies, “We have a list of people who may know more about the evacuations out of Carnassey. We’ll go wherever it takes us.”
“Wait! Wait, wait!” Kenny’s voice rises out of the crowd. She dashes over and throws her arms around me. “I knew they’d find you.”
“Kendra?”
The little girl looks up at the doctor, her face lighting up with recognition. “Dr. Bradley?”
“You two know each other?” Tim asks.
“Yes,” Bradley says. “Her mother was a patient for years. If there was ever a family of survivors, they were it.” He turns to look at Kenny. “How’s your mother doing?”
Kenny’s face drops. She digs her toe into the ground, and looks down at her hands. “Just me now.”
For the first time since I met her, I see Kenny through the eyes of someone who knew her before the world tipped upside down. Someone who sees her the way that she’s supposed to be seen. Not the little survivor. Not the one who comforts people who hurt. Not even the bunny girl. But as just... a little girl. A girl who’s lost her mother.
And as Dr. Bradley comforts the tearful girl, I see him too. Not as the sympathetic doctor. Not as the man who protected everyone. But as a father. A father who’s lost his little girl. And I know in that moment, that they’ll be okay.
“It’s a small world,” Kimberly says quietly.
“And getting smaller,” Tim adds, squeezing her shoulders.
When we arrive at the edge of town, I hop out of the truck and look back at the Ims.
“So, I guess this is goodbye,” I say.
“No,” Tim replies. “This is good luck.”
They’re both smiling at me, and I nod in agreement, smiling back. I turn and walk over to the green station wagon, finding the doors unlocked and the keys in the ignition, just as I left them.
I sit down and sigh contently. Someone has placed the first aid kit on the passenger side floor, next to my backpack. I adjust the mirrors, letting my fingers brush against the soft fur of the lucky rabbit’s foot hanging from the rear view mirror, then start the car and head off.
It takes a few minutes and a bit of maneuvering to get back onto the highway, but once I do, the drive’s easy and uneventful all of the way to the MegaMart. I park the car next to the front door entrance, then swing my backpack over my good shoulder and grab the first aid kit.
The store’s on lockdown, but luckily, I know its secrets. This is the location that I used to work at, the one that I transferred from when I went to Carnassey. I walk around the side of the building, past the staff door near the bathrooms, and to the loading dock at the back. My paranoid and forgetful manager used to keep a spare key hidden, and luckily it’s still there.
Once inside the building, I walk quickly back to the main entrance and find it heavily barricaded. I can’t move the crates that are stacked in front of the large metal door by hand, but I should be able to find and use one of the forklifts to move them later so that I can get the door open and the station wagon inside.
If I’m going to live here for the next month or two, there are a lot of things I’ll need to do. I walk around the store, making a mental list of the biggest tasks, and in what order they need to be completed.
Just like Dr. Bradley had said, the store was obviously inhabited until recently, and by people who were organized. All of the fresh food is missing, although I’m not sure where it’s gone, as the large fridges are empty too, and I can’t smell anything unusual. There are plenty of boxed and canned foods, and if I get desperate, there are several cases of the Gov issue gravy stuff in the office.
I finish my quick tour by the bathrooms, where my old home used to be at the Carnassey MegaMart. It’ll be a lot harder climbing up to the Tops with my arm in a sling, so I drop my backpack and the first aid kit and find a ladder. I drag it over noisily and set it up against the wall. In an emergency, it could be kicked over or pulled up.
I make a note to collect bedding and other supplies to haul up there later. My next task is checking out the Cage.
The Cage is a small area next to the bathrooms where cigarettes used to be stored. It’s secure, and an ideal place to keep a Passive since I can easily observe him or her from my home on the Tops, which run parallel with the chain link top of the Cage.
I need to find out more about the Passives and how they act. I want to know how they learn, if they learn at all. I want to know why the Passive with the thick glasses became confused when I took them away from her. I want to know why Jenny stopped attacking the door. And more than anything, I need to know if they are still people.
I crouch down in front of my backpack and start digging around in search of the journal. There’s a lot of information to add from my last few days in Middleton, and I might as well get started. I pull the journal out, and then begin fishing around for a pen when I get the sudden feeling that I’m being watched. I freeze, the hairs on the back of my neck sticking up and a pit dropping into the bottom of my stomach.
Slowly, very slowly, I stand up and turn around. I gasp, but remain still and mostly silent as I find myself facing another person. I look up, up, and up some more, until my eyes meet his.
The man looks down at me from a lofty height. He must be at least six and a half feet tall, and proportionately wide. His eyes are that dull, muddy color, and his hair is dark, thick, and curly.
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“Whoa,” I say aloud. “You’re a big one.”
The man, who’s clearly a Passive, as he has not attacked me yet, sniffs the air and snaps his mouth a couple of times.
I reach down slowly and pick up a discarded wooden broom, using the end to prod at the enormous Passive. He swipes at it with his hands, catches it, and pulls it into his mouth, biting down awkwardly on the handle. I pull it away from him, and he groans, swiping at the air, then looks down at me again.
Still holding the broom out between us, I look from the Passive, to the open door of the Cage, and then back to the Passive.
I smile up at him. “I guess that makes you the first volunteer.”
About the Author
Katelyn Jane Harrison lives on the West Coast of Canada with
her adorable husband and collection of corgis and bunnies.
For news on the next book in this series,
and more information about Katie’s world,
please visit me at www.kjharrisonbooks.com
Population: Katie Page 24