by Cross, Amy
"I brought you some food," I tell her. "Just like I promised. I'm sorry it took a while, but I had to make sure no-one followed me. It's all a big tense in there right now, but I think it's gonna be okay".
She stares at me, clearly not convinced that she can trust me. She looks to be about my age, although her white-blonde hair makes her seem a little older. There are still some cuts and bruises on her face, which I assume are left over from her encounters with Bob.
"I'll just put this here," I say, placing the bag on the counter. "How are you feeling?"
"Sore," she says, hurrying over and opening the bag. Without saying anything else, she eats the two sandwiches I brought, before washing them down with a small bottle of orange juice. It's like seeing a starved animal devouring its first meal for days, but then I guess Mallory probably didn't get much, if anything, from Bob.
"We don't really have much food," I say. "I don't even know if they'll notice that this stuff's gone, but it should be okay".
Once she's finished eating, Mallory wipes her mouth and takes a few steps back.
"I'm not gonna hurt you," I say. "I just brought you some food 'cause you seemed so hungry. I don't even think I can bring you much more, maybe not until tomorrow. They've noticed you're missing, so you can't come anywhere near the building. They think you're gonna run off and tell some gang all about us. Bob's convinced you're part of some heavily-armed group that wants to come storming into the building and take all our stuff". I pause for a moment. "You're not, are you?"
"That guy's insane," she replies, staring at me wildly.
"I know," I say. "He's got some serious issues. Whatever he did to you -"
"He hasn't got 'serious issues'. He's a fucking psychopath. He's completely off the deep end. You know that, right?"
I nod. "He thinks he's a -"
"Look at my hands," she continues, showing me the crusty, bloodied ends of her fingers. "He told me he'd rip off my fucking fingernails if I didn't tell him about my friends. He kept saying I must have friends; he kept going on and on about it, like he thought the three of you living in that building are the most important people in the whole fucking city. He wanted to know where they were hiding, and how many there were". She pauses for a moment. "At first, he said he wanted to offer them help, but later he said he was going to kill them and take their food. He said that's the kind of world we live in now. He kept telling me over and over again that life isn't fair and that I shouldn't expect it to be. One time, he even tried to come onto me, telling me I should give him things if I wanted him to let me go. I swear to God, if I had the spare energy right now, I'd go right back in there and stick a knife in his gut".
"He's dangerous," I tell her, "but I'm not".
"Yeah, well..." Her voice trails off for a moment. "Forgive me for being suspicious, but someone who hangs out with a psychopath clearly has some problems of her own".
"It's not like that," I reply. "We were kind of thrown together. This is just how things are right now".
"And that little helper of his," she says. "He's just as bad. Beady-eyed little shit".
"Helper?" I pause, realizing she must mean Henry. "That's my brother".
"Well, he's evil," she continues. "He just stood there, watching what the bigger guy was doing to me".
"But he didn't join in, did he?" I ask. "Please. Tell me he didn't join in".
"He helped," she says. "The big guy asked him to fetch stuff, like pliers and things, and the kid went and got them like an obedient little fucker. The big guy took my fingernails off, one by one, and dropped them into this little cup that the kid was holding. I was fucking trying to scream, but I had this gag over my mouth. I kept hoping the kid might come and help me, but he didn't. He just watched and followed orders. So, no, the kid didn't actually do anything, he didn't actually touch me, but he sure fucking helped".
"He's not like that," I reply. "He's a good person, he just -"
"You're his sister," she says, interrupting me. "You don't see it, but he's bad". She pauses. "Thanks for your help," she says after a moment, "but I can't stay around here. I have to go".
"Where to?" I ask.
"None of your business".
"Are there other people?"
"That depends on your definition of people," she replies. "There's a few people on the other side of town. They're working together. They're gonna head out of the city soon, find somewhere safer. I'm gonna go with them, if it's not too late. I can't stay here. I'll die".
"Where are they gonna go?" I ask.
"They're gonna head west," she says. "That's all they've decided so far. They figure going west is their best chance of finding decent land. I guess the plan is to try growing food, that kind of thing. There's only five or six of us, but we've seen enough of this place to know we can't stay. Not with those things around all the time".
"What things?"
"The things. You must have seen them. Dead people, but they're not quite dead. There's this guy named Kendricks, he's got all kinds of theories. At first, people were saying there were zombies, but Kendricks thinks it's more to do with a virus. I don't really know, but he sounds like he knows what he's talking about. He's the one who thinks we should abandon the city and head out west". She pauses for a moment. "You know, you might be able to come with us, if you want. Kendricks says that anyone who's fit and healthy can be useful".
"I can't leave my brother," I tell her. "And I can't leave New York, not while there's a chance that my parents might show up".
"You're making a mistake," she says. "No-one's coming back. There's not gonna be this big 'on' switch that magically makes everything okay again. That's what I thought for the first couple of days, but eventually I realized there's no chance. The best thing to do is to get into a group and then come up with a plan. Staying in this place is definitely not a plan. It's suicide".
"What about your parents?" I ask. "Don't you have family here?"
"They're dead," she replies.
"What happened to them?"
"They got sick, like everyone else got sick. Probably, anyway. I never really..." She pauses. "There's something wrong with this place. We all need to get out".
"I haven't got a choice," I point out.
"You've always got a choice". She sighs. "I have to get going, but thanks for helping me get away. That guy was insane. I'm pretty sure he was gonna kill me". She turns and heads toward the door, before looking back at me. "Do you know the bridge on the north side of Central Park?" she asks suddenly. "The little white one with the old-fashioned lights at each side?"
"Yeah," I say.
"If you change your mind about staying here," she continues, "that's where I'm probably gonna be for a couple more nights, while we get ready to move on".
"I won't change my mind," I tell her.
"I know, but if you do, that's where we'll be. Like I said, the original plan was to move out of the city in a couple of days. Until then, we're gonna be gathering stuff together, ready for the journey. It's not much, but it's a start. Just..." She pauses, as if she's not sure whether she can say the next thing. "Just don't bring your brother," she adds finally. "After the stuff that happened here, I don't ever wanna see him again. If you come to the park and you bring him, I won't let him join our group. You understand that, right?"
I nod.
"Seeya around, then," she says. "Or not, most likely". Turning, she heads out the door and I'm left standing alone in the kitchen, listening to the sound of her footsteps as she walks away.
Once she's gone, I turn and look across the kitchen. While I'm here, I figure I might as well check that there's nothing that might be useful. I spend a few minutes going through various cupboards, but the only thing I find is a bunch of cooking pots and some utensils. Eventually, just as I'm about to give up, I spot a door over in the corner, and I find a small pantry. There's not much left in here, but there are a few sachets of powdered soup and some blocks of noodles. I figure I can take this stuff back with me, and at least I'll be
able to make Henry and Bob think that I came out scavenging today. Henry, at least, is probably already suspicious of my actions, and I need to make sure I don't do anything to heighten those suspicions. By bringing food to Mallory, I've already taken a huge risk. Now I just need to find a way to make Henry realize that Bob's a bad influence, and then I need to work out what the hell we're going to do next.
THOMAS
Oklahoma
"I don't see anything," Joe says, staring out the windshield of the parked truck. "Do you?"
"Looks dead to me," I reply.
We sit in silence for a moment. Ahead of us, the first few buildings of Scottsville sit in ominous silence. There's no sign of life, no sign of movement. There's nothing. It's like the whole place is abandoned, although we haven't actually dared to make our way into the center of town. Scottsville's a small place with just a couple of hundred residents, so it's not like it should be a hive of activity. Still, there's something about the place, even when viewed from outside, that seems strangely subdued.
"I don't hear anything, either," I say, rolling down my squeaky window. "Listen. There's no sound of anything".
"What do you think?" Joe asks. "Do we carry on, or do we go around?"
I take a deep breath, trying to work out what we should do next. For the past few days, the answer has always been easy: go to Scottsville. Although I could tell that something serious had happened, I was always able to fool myself into believing that going to Scottsville would somehow make things okay. I lied to myself and imagined there being people here; people who'd know what had happened, people who could explain everything, people who could tell us what to do next. If I'm honest, I guess I was relying on there being someone in Scottsville who could wave a magic wand and make it seem like everything would be okay again.
I was wrong.
"I mean, we can just carry on," Joe says after a moment. "We can head on to Dudley. How far's that? Another fifty, sixty miles? It's not so much more. Maybe there are people in Dudley who -"
"Why would there be people in Dudley when there's no-one in Scottsville?" I ask. "Scottsville's bigger than Dudley".
"Okay, so we carry on until we hit Oklahoma City if we have to. Tulsa, maybe".
"And what if there's no-one there, either?"
He sighs. "If there's no-one in Oklahoma City? Then we're fucking screwed. I mean, people don't just vanish. They have to physically be somewhere. There's no magic trick in the world that can take all the people out of Oklahoma City and just make them all disappear".
I stare at the buildings up ahead. After all this planning, we can't just drive around the place and not stop to see what's been happening. "We need to go through the main street," I say, turning to Joe. "Let's just drive through slowly. We can always speed up and get out of there if there's any kind of problem, but we need to see what's happening. Lydia said it was empty. Let's go through the middle and take a look".
"Okay," he says, "but at the first sign of trouble, I'm flooring the pedal. You got me? I'm not wasting a fucking second". Without another word, he starts the engine, and we drive slowly past the first houses. "You see anything?"
I shake my head. The truth is, Scottsville looks deader than dead. I can't put my finger on it, but something about the place just seems totally still and undisturbed, as if no-one's been here for days. It's almost as if a faint layer of dust has descended on the whole town, and there was no-one around to clean up. As the truck continues to move slowly along the street, it's hard not to think about what might be inside these houses. After all, people don't just disappear, and there could be bodies hidden just out of sight. Eventually, Joe takes a left turn and we reach the main street, which is wider than the others but just as deserted. Where once there would have been a few people wandering from store to store, now there's nothing but a few abandoned cars and a whole lot of dust.
"Lydia wasn't kidding," Joe says as we drive slowly past the convenience store. "Look at this place. Middle of the day, and there's no-one about. Where the hell did everyone go?"
"Maybe they were evacuated," I reply.
"By who?"
"The military. Maybe the army came through and rounded everyone up. I guess they missed us 'cause our farm's so far out".
"We'd have heard," he says. "We'd have seen helicopters or something. Somehow, we'd know what was going on".
"It's the most likely explanation," I say. "What else could have happened? You think everyone just upped and died in their houses?"
"Maybe," he says, suddenly parking up in the middle of the street. "So do you think we should go take a look around? There might be some decent food in the store".
"I thought you didn't want to get out of the truck," I remind him.
"Doesn't look too dangerous," he says with a shrug. "I don't see no rampaging hoards, do you?"
"No," I say, "but I saw the cop back at the -"
"For fuck's sake, will you knock that off?" he says. "I don't know what you saw when you found that cop, but I'm damn sure you're confused about the whole thing. Dead cops don't just crawl around, okay? This isn't a zombie movie, there's no aliens coming down from space. Whatever happened, it was something weird but it wasn't something crazy. Look at this place. It's totally empty".
Staring out at the storefronts, I feel a knot in my stomach as I consider what it might be like in there. I feel like there's a really good chance that we'll find dead bodies, and I'm also worried about that cop from yesterday. If he could keep moving even after he seemed to be dead, there's no reason why others couldn't have done the same. Then again, if the two hundred people of Scottsville were in a similar state, I guess we'd have seen some kind of a sign by now.
"You can wait here if you want," Joe says, getting out of the truck. "I'm gonna go take a look in the store".
"I'll come," I reply quickly, getting out and following him across the dusty street. I keep glancing over my shoulder, expecting to see someone or something.
"So," Joe continues as we reach the store and find that the door is locked, "you got any moral objections if I break this thing down?"
I shake my head.
"Cool," he says, standing back. "If this goes well, I might even try busting down the door of the bank later. I've always wanted to be an old-fashioned highwayman". With that, he runs at the door of the convenience store, which gives way easily. A thin cloud of dust immediately floats out into the afternoon air, along with a foul smell that I can only hope comes from nothing more grizzly than some rotten fruit.
"I don't think there's gonna be anything in there," I say, keen to stay outside.
"We've gotta check," Joe replies, stepping through the door. "I'll just be a couple of minutes".
Part of me wants to go in with him, but I find myself loitering out in the street. It's weird being here when there's no-one else around. I must have been to Scottsville a hundred times, and I always thought it was a dead little place. It never seemed like anything was actually happening here, and I always dreamed of heading off somewhere to experience a real town, or even a city. Suddenly, though, I find myself desperately wanting the old Scottsville back. I just want to see one person come around the corner.
"There's nothing in there," Joe says, emerging from the store. "All the fresh stuff's rotten, and it's not like we need more chocolate, right?"
"Did you find anyone?" I ask.
He shakes his head.
"Did you look behind the counter?"
"Of course I looked behind the counter. There's no-one in there". He walks across the street, before stopping to look around. "What the fuck happened to this place?" he asks, before cupping his hands around his mouth. "Hello?" he shouts at the top of his voice. "Is there anyone still here?"
"Don't do that!" I say, hurrying over to him.
"Why not?" he asks.
"What if there's people here we don't want to see?"
"Like who?" He pauses for a moment. "Are you still banging on about that cop? Thomas, you're letting your ima
gination run away with you. Does it really seem like there's gonna be a bunch of fucking zombies sitting around this place? It's dead as all hell. The only chance is that maybe there's some people holed up somewhere and they're asleep. I don't wanna just drive through and maybe miss the chance of making contact".
"A few minutes ago, you didn't want to drive through at all," I point out.
"Let's not do this," he replies, walking over to the other side of the street.
"Do what?" I ask, following him.
"Arguing's a waste of time," he says as we walk along the sidewalk. "It's a waste of fucking energy, too. Let's just get on with doing what we need to do, like -" He stops in front of a bar and grabs the handle; the door swings open, revealing a dark interior. "What do you know?" he says, turning to me. "At least there's one place that's still open".
"You're not serious," I reply. "There's no way you're serious".
"Relax," he says, pulling the door shut. "Even I'm not dumb enough to think we should stop for a drink. But I'll be damned if I'm not curious about what happened here. It's like someone just came along and sucked up all the people. A whole town doesn't just disappear like this". We start walking again, making our way to the end of the street. "There's got to be someone here," he continues. "There's got to be someone, somewhere, who knows what the fuck is going on. I refuse to believe that the whole fucking town of Scottsville has just upped and vanished overnight. There's someone somewhere, I swear to God, and we're gonna find them".
Just as he finishes speaking, there's a noise in the distance. It's not much, and it only lasts a couple of seconds, but it sounded like something hitting a piece of metal. Joe and I exchange a worried glance, and we stand in silence for a moment, waiting for the noise to return.
"It was probably just the wind," Joe says eventually, his voice filled with tension.
"There's no wind," I reply.
"We're going back to the truck," he says, grabbing my arm and starting to pull me back the way we came. We only get a few steps along the street, however, before we both spot the same thing up ahead: a figure, climbing into our truck.