Mass Extinction Event (Book 11): Days 349 to 356

by Cross, Amy

  “There's nothing wrong with hoping for the best,” Riley replies. “If we don't, we'll just -”

  “We have to face the truth!” she yells suddenly, shoving him hard in the chest, sending him back a couple of paces. “We're starving to death out here! That's not a joke, it's not scaremongering, it's simply what's happening! Things are getting worse and worse with each day that goes by!”

  “Calm down!” he says.

  “I won't calm down!” she shouts. “We barely have enough water! We need three things right now! We need food, we need water, and we need gasoline! When we run out of any one of those things, we're dead!”

  “You don't know that,” he replies.

  “Actually, I do,” she says, stepping toward him again.

  “We'll be fine.”

  “And we should all listen to you?” she asks. “You're the one who led us to that Colby dump, and there was nothing there for us.”

  “It was worth a try,” he says firmly. “It was my home.”

  “It was a waste of time and effort,” she spits back at him. “It was probably barely even better before the apocalypse happened.”

  “Let's just take a break,” I interject, grabbing her arm and holding her back before she can shove him again. “Martha, we all know that things aren't looking good, but that's why we're setting off again soon. We can't just sit around and accept the end. We have to keep going.”

  “We need a plan,” she replies, before sighing. “The problem is, there are no plans. We're basically relying on luck now.”

  “And our luck has to change soon,” Riley says. “I already told you, sooner or later we're gonna have some good luck.”

  “We're already having good luck,” Martha tells him, “and it's barely keeping us alive. We can't get any luckier. It's only downhill from here, and that's when things are going to get really bad.” She sighs again. “You don't get it. None of you do. I'm going to make sure that the car's ready to roll. We need to move on, and fast.”

  “That was intense,” Riley says to me, as Martha storms away. “Even by her stands.”

  “I'll go and find Katrina,” I say, turning and heading back to the broken window. “I think I know where she was going.”

  ***

  “You scared me!” Katrina gasps a few minutes later, leaping to her feet as I step into the doorway of yet another trashed store.

  “Sorry,” I reply, “I thought you heard me coming.”

  I wait, but she seems particularly upset about something, and I realize after a moment that there are tears in her eyes. She's been very jumpy over the past week or so, and I'm pretty sure that something's very wrong with her. I've asked a few times, but only in a casual way, and she's always insisted that she's fine. Now, however, she's actually having to wipe tears from her face, and there's no way she can deny that something's troubling her. Whatever's wrong, I get the feeling that it's on top of all the obvious things that are wrong right now.

  “We're thinking about moving on,” I tell her.

  “I'll be right there.”

  “No rush.” I pause for a moment. “So -”

  “It's nothing,” she replies, cutting me off. “Seriously, Thomas, just leave it.”

  “Have you talked to Riley about it?”

  “There's nothing to talk to him about,” she says, stepping past me and heading out across the atrium of the mall. “This place was a waste of time, huh?”

  “Looks like it,” I mutter, glancing around one more time before turning to follow her.

  After just a couple of steps, however, I see that she's stopping a little way ahead. She still has her back to me, but I quickly realize that she seems to be crying again. I hesitate, feeling as if I'm really not the best person to deal with this, and then I walk over and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “It's gonna be okay,” I say cautiously. “We still have some food from that place back in -”

  “I'm pregnant,” she blurts out.

  I freeze, convinced that I must have misheard her.

  “I've thought it for a while,” she continues, “and then I found a test kit in the pharmacy here. I went and tried it and...”

  Turning to me with tears running down her face, she looks utterly terrified.

  “I knew you and Riley were... getting close,” I tell her. “I mean, it is his, right?”

  “Who else could it belong to?” she snaps.

  “Sorry, you're right.” I pause again as I try to take in the implications of this news. I want to calm her down at least a little, but I can't think of anything to say that won't – in all likelihood – make everything seem even worse.

  “I don't know how far gone I am,” she says after a moment. “I'm guessing two months, maybe. Either way, it doesn't matter. What matters is that I don't know how I can bring a child into the world when...”

  Her voice trails off.

  “I don't know anything about delivering babies,” I reply.

  “It's not that, it's the state of everything that's around us,” she points out, as more tears run down her face. “Thomas, the world is dying. There are actual, literal zombies roaming the streets.”

  “We haven't seen any since we left the farm.”

  “This is not a world that's fit for a child!” she says firmly. “I mean, I thought I had a bad childhood, but at least there wasn't a genuine chance that I'd get my brain eaten! There's no way I can bring a child into the world, it'd be inhumane to do that, it'd be irresponsible.”

  “Have you talked to Riley about this?”

  “I can't. He'd be so worried.” She sighs. “We should have been more careful. I knew that at the time, but I stupidly figured that we'd be okay if we took a few precautions.” Putting her hands over her face, she takes a deep breath. “How can I welcome a kid into a world that's filled with zombies? I'd be a terrible mother at the best of times, but this situation is really not helping. I won't even be able to promise my kid that he or she will be able to grow up!”

  “I guess you've just got to try your best,” I reply, even though I know that's not very helpful. “And you really should tell Riley soon, 'cause you're gonna need a lot of help.”

  “No,” she says, with a hint of fear in her voice, “what I need is a miracle. Because without one, the kid in my belly doesn't stand a chance.”

  Thomas

  By the time we get back to the car, Riley and Martha are properly yelling at one another.

  “There are no more miracles!” Martha shouts at him. “Everything's been picked clean! The ways we all survived in the beginning are not going to work anymore! We have to come up with something else!”

  “I don't hear you offering any bright ideas!” he snaps.

  “We've been avoiding the cities,” she continues, “but they're our best bet now! There might be people there who've found ways to survive! The four of us, driving around like this forever, are just circling the drain!”

  “If you want to go to the city,” Riley replies, “then go to the city. But you're gonna have to walk, because I'm not taking that kind of risk!”

  “Hey,” I say, stopping on the other side of the car, with Katrina right behind me, “you guys are just wasting energy. We need to get out of here.”

  “Tell this idiot!” Martha hisses at me. “Maybe he'll listen to you, Thomas, because he sure isn't listening to me! He thinks we're gonna magically find some place with loads of food and water, but we're not! We'll end up like those corpses we keep seeing by the side of the road!”

  Sighing, Riley leans against the car. He seems differently lately, more manic and wired, as if he's getting close to his breaking point. Then again, I guess we're all more or less in the same boat.

  “Maybe we should hit the road,” Katrina says listlessly. “Find another place. You never know, we might get lucky.”

  “That's what you said two days ago,” Martha points out.

  “I know, but...”

  Her voice trails off, and it's clear that she doesn't h
ave an answer. I turn and look at her, and we make eye contact for a moment before she turns away. I can't imagine how she feels, knowing that she's carrying a child in her belly, but I totally understand her sense of hopelessness. Right now, standing here hungry and thirsty and lost, I feel as if bringing a kid into this world would be tantamount to cruelty.

  “We're near Philadelphia,” Martha says after a moment. “Let's head that way and at least see what's going on, at least for now. There might be people there, they might be making things work.”

  “What if there are?” I ask. “Some other asshole'll just come along and blow it up. I was in Boston, I saw what happened.”

  “I know,” she replies, “but...”

  She pauses, and then she comes over to me.

  “You were always set against us going to a city before,” I tell her. “What changed?”

  “Nothing,” she says, “I just...” She pauses again, and I can see the sense of dread in her eye. “I'm more and more convinced that when we left the farm a few months ago we made a mistake. Potentially a fatal mistake. But does that mean we should try to go back? It might be too far. We might not make it.”

  “Hey,” Katrina says, nudging my arm.

  “You can't mean that,” I tell Martha.

  “What if there's no way to survive?” she asks. “Not out here, at least. There's nothing left to find. There's nothing left to steal. We're done picking over the ashes of the old world, and now we really have to start fending for ourselves. And let's face it, we're spectacularly ill-equipped to do that. I'm starting to think that our only hope is to head back to the farm and try to salvage whatever we can. There's land there, good land, and equipment too. Sure, getting started again would be really hard, but at least we'd have something to aim for.”

  “We must be about a thousand miles from home,” I point out. “Where are we even going to find the gas to get back there?”

  I wait, but it's clear that she doesn't have an answer.

  “Hey, guys,” Katrina says.

  Turning to her, I see that she's looking into the distance. I glance along the road, and that's when I see that something's kicking up dust a few hundred meters away. Whatever it is, it's heading this way, and I've learned over the past year to be wary of any new arrivals.

  “Is that a vehicle?” I whisper.

  “Someone's coming,” Katrina adds.

  “What do we do?” Riley asks.

  “They might have food,” Katrina suggests.

  “They might be dangerous,” Riley says.

  “It's too late, anyway,” Martha mutters. “We can't move the car out of the way in time. They're almost on top of us.” She turns to me, and I can see the fear in her eye.

  “I'm sure they're friendly,” I tell her, even though I know I sound pretty naive. “It's worth a shot, at least.”

  “Everybody be ready to fight,” Riley says as the other vehicle, which looks to be a camper van, gets closer and closer. “Don't let your guard down, and don't show weakness. Remember, these people are probably just as scared of us as we are of them.”

  I look over at Martha, but she's simply watching the approaching van. Martha's not the kind of person to issue pep talks and bland reassurance. Just from looking at her eye, I can tell that she's already trying to figure out what to do next. She always carries a knife slipped into her belt, and I wouldn't put it past her to have a few other tricks up her sleeve.

  “It's probably just a family,” Katrina suggests nervously. “They might even have news about where to go.”

  The camper van is already slowing as it gets closer, but I can't quite make out who's behind the wheel. As the van comes to a halt, I can't quite shake a sense of fear, and then the door opens and a large, tough-looking guy steps out. A moment later, a second guy emerges, then a third, and it's pretty clear that this is far from a family. They look more like a gang, and they're all wearing ripped clothing that exposes large, tanned muscles.

  “Well, they look lovely, don't they?” Riley whispers. “Sure, just lovely. I can't wait to get to know them better.” He turns to me. “Do you think they'll rape us and kill us, or kill us first and then -”

  “Shut up!” Martha hisses angrily.

  “I get pissy when I'm nervous,” he says through gritted teeth, as the three large guys make their way toward us. “Did I ever mention that? Did you ever notice? I start saying dumb things, and I find it hard to shut up and -”

  “We get it,” I mutter, nudging his arm.

  He turns to me.

  “Was I doing it again?” he asks.

  “Hey,” Martha says suddenly, stepping toward the new arrivals. She suddenly seems quite friendly, although I know that's an act. “How are you doing?”

  Two of the guys hang back while the third, taller member of their group wanders over toward Martha. He's well over six feet tall, and he has a few scars on his face, and he stops for a moment to look Martha up and down before – finally – a smile crosses his lips.

  “We didn't expect to meet anyone out here today,” he says with a gravely, damaged voice. “We haven't seen anyone out here in a long time.” He hesitates for a few more seconds. “Please to meet you. My name's Krex.”

  He holds his right hand out toward Martha, for her to shake, and then he waits for a moment before laughing. He has a loud, obnoxious laugh, the kind that instantly puts me on edge.

  “Sorry,” he adds, lowering the hand. “That was insensitive of me, I didn't think.”

  “No problem,” Martha replies, holding her left hand up. “We can adapt.”

  “I like that attitude,” he says, shaking her left hand. “Allow me to introduce my two friends, Maddog and Blayde. That's Blayde with a 'y', by the way.”

  The other two nod and grunt.

  “Interesting names,” Martha replies.

  “Well,” he chuckles, “we all figured that since the world has gone to pot, we might as well throw away our old names and pick something new. Something that reflects our new roles in life. Personally, I named myself after a character in a novel I wrote years ago. It was never published, it was about pirates in space, and Krex was this very big, very tough captain of a space barge. I liked the name, and a while back I figured there was no-one left to tell me I had to stick to my old name.”

  “And what was your old name?” Martha asks.

  “You know what?” He chuckles again. “I don't remember.” He looks down at Martha's right arm again. “And you, young lady, appear to have been in the wars, but you've managed to carry on. For that, you have my respect.”

  “Thanks,” she replies. “That means a lot.”

  He stares at her for a moment longer, before turning and coming over to the rest of us.

  “Thomas,” I say, shaking his hand even though I've still got a bad feeling about all of this. “Thomas Edgewater.”

  “Good solid name,” he replies, before turning to Katrina.

  “Katrina,” she tells him cautiously.

  “A pretty name for a pretty lady,” he says.

  She smiles nervously, but it's clear that she's feeling uncomfortable.

  Krex heads over to Riley.

  “Last but not least,” he says, holding a hand out, “you would be...”

  Riley pauses for a moment before shaking his hand.

  “Cutter,” he says firmly.

  “What?” Katrina says, turning to him. “Riley, what are you on about?”

  Riley sighs.

  “That's okay,” Krex mutters with a grin. “We can call you Cutter if you prefer, it's not a bad name. I'm glad that you're getting into the spirit of things.”

  “Riley's cool,” Riley replies. “I mean... Yeah, just call me Riley.”

  “And where are you headed to?” Krex asks, turning and wandering over to take a closer look at the car. He leans inside for a moment, before turning to Martha again. He seems to have her pegged as the leader of our group, which isn't necessarily incorrect. “You seem to be right out in the middl
e of nowhere. Are you scavengers? You won't find anything for miles and miles around here. We cleaned everywhere out.”

  “We're just passing through,” Martha tells him.

  “And what are you doing for food and gas? What about water?”

  “We can manage.”

  “You can?” He raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Have you got a stash of stuff hidden away in this car?”

  “We're fine, thank you,” Martha says firmly. “Like I told you, we're just passing through and soon we'll be well away from here. We really don't have any intention of bothering you.”

  “You don't, huh?” He pauses. “And there I was, about to extend a welcome to you, to come and stay with us for a while in Philly. You'd have been especially welcome, what with all the Atherius business that's about to kick off. We're planning a big old party in the next couple of weeks, and we'd have been more than happy to have you drop by.”

  “We've got our own party to get to,” Riley says.

  Martha, Katrina and I turn to him.

  “Sort of,” he adds, clearly realizing how ridiculous he sounded. “It's complicated.”

  “Okay, Cutter,” Krex says with a smile, “then I guess we should let you all be on your way. Shame, seeing as how we can be very hospitable, but people often have their own roads to take in this crazy world. I just hope you all stay safe.”

  “We will,” Martha tells him. “And thank you. We hope you stay safe too.”

  Thomas

  “Cutter?” I say a few minutes later, as Riley and I sit in the back of the car. “Seriously?”

  “I was trying to think of something on the spot,” he replies grumpily. “At least I gave it a shot.”

  “Sure,” I mutter, and then we sit in silence for a moment as Katrina continues to drive us along the barren road. “But Cutter?”

  He turns and glares at me.

  “There's obviously life in Philadelphia,” Martha says from the front passenger seat. “We shouldn't let those assholes scare us away. If we were to go and take a look, at least around the suburbs -”

  “No way,” Riley says firmly.