by Kate L. Mary
Once he had disappeared from sight I turned to look at Tessa only to find her scowling at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Seriously?” My sister’s frown deepened. “Logan is Rick’s best friend. You know what that asshole did to me.”
“Tess—” I sighed, and the sound was strangled with tears. I didn’t just want her to grow up, I needed her to. I couldn’t take on all the responsibility by myself. “—do you really think that’s what’s important now? Look at everything that’s happened. Think about everything we’ve lost. Who gives a shit if Rick left you at the altar? He’s probably dead now, anyway.”
My sister let out a gasp and her hand flew to her mouth. Then she sank back against the seat and her shoulders slumped. It was as if the thought had never occurred to her before now. It should have, though. Everyone else had died.
Chapter 4
I STAYED IN THE MIDDLE of the STREET, THE CAR idling while I waited for Logan to return. I had no clue where he lived and I hadn’t thought to ask him, but it wasn’t like we were impeding traffic by sitting here. There was no one else around.
Tessa said nothing after the bomb I dropped on her, and even though I knew she had needed that little dose of reality, I couldn’t help feeling bad. She was my baby sister and I’d always looked out for her, but no matter how I looked at the situation, it was impossible to cushion this blow.
Logan was gone for exactly ten minutes. I knew because I stared at the green numbers on the dashboard the whole time, watching as minute after minute ticked by. I didn’t want to drive off and leave him alone. Not because of the night we’d spent flirting, but because it would have been a shitty thing to do and I was not a shitty person. Still, for some reason, I couldn’t help feeling like with each passing second, safety slipped further and further from my grasp. Which was crazy. They weren’t going to shut down the refugee center when things were still so crazy, and it wasn’t like things could get any worse. Most of the population was already dead, including three of the people I loved most in this world. This was as bad as it could get. I was certain of it.
When Logan finally reappeared, breaking through the darkness as suddenly as he had vanished, he had a bag over his shoulder. His dark, wavy hair was messy, as if he hadn’t brushed it in days, and the sight of it made me reach up and smooth my own hair down. I didn’t know what I looked like, but I doubted it was good. It had been maybe three days—no, four—since I’d showered, and I hadn’t bothered with makeup in a week. Or longer. There had been no point. Seeing Logan’s disheveled hair made me wonder if I’d even bothered to brush mine since all this started. I couldn’t seem to remember the last time I’d done it, which told me it had been a long time.
Logan opened the back door and slid inside, shutting it without a word of hello or even thanking me for waiting for him. Not that I needed it. Like me, Logan was probably in a state of shock. All of this, the virus and death and the loss of the world we had always known, had made things like social niceties seem pointless. The only thing that was important now was survival, and that meant getting to a place where someone could tell us what to do.
Just as silent as he was, I took off, heading down the road I had been driving on before Logan ran into us. Every house we passed was dark, and in the distance it was more of the same. Blackness that seemed never-ending stretched on as far as the eye could see, only broken up where the moon glimmered off surfaces. A car, the small pond in the center of town, the river as we crossed the bridge onto the interstate.
“Everything’s gone,” Tessa whispered.
We had been in the car for nearly fifteen minutes before she broke the silence, and something about it seemed to break us out of a trance.
In the back, Logan shifted and leaned forward. “This feels like a dream.”
“A nightmare,” I corrected.
“Yeah,” he said, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw his head bob.
“It’s going to be okay, right?” Tessa asked.
My hands tightened on the steering wheel when a pit opened up in my stomach. “Yes. We’ll find help at the refugee center. They’ll have emergency procedures set up and they’ll be in touch with the government. The people there will be able to tell us what to do.”
“Let’s hope,” Logan said.
Tessa turned to face him for the first time since he had climbed into the back seat. “What does that mean?”
“Only that this thing is huge and there seems to be no way of stopping it. How do we even know if the people in charge are still alive? How do we know they haven’t all been killed by the virus too?”
He was right. It was something I hadn’t thought about before, but with most of the population gone, there was a good chance the people in authority positions had succumbed to the virus as well. The president, I knew, had died, but beyond that I was unsure. Was the Vice President alive? Was anyone in the chain of command alive, or were they all gone as well?
“Someone will know what to do,” I said, mostly as a way to make myself feel better.
“Yeah,” Tessa whispered, but there was no confidence in her tone.
The silence in the car grew when I pulled off the interstate. This area was usually pretty busy since there were dozens of hotels and restaurants around, as well as the outlet mall, but at the moment the streets were nearly deserted. We passed a few cars pulled off to the side of the road; doors wide open so we were able to see how empty they were. Every single one of them had been there long enough that the interior lights had burned out. Or maybe the car’s battery had died. It was hard to say, but seeing those abandoned vehicles made me feel like I was watching an episode of The Walking Dead, and I couldn’t help scanning the area for a horde of zombies. Which was, of course, insane.
“Why do you think they left their cars?” Tessa asked.
“Sick, maybe? Out of gas?” Logan replied. “Maybe they headed out here looking for help and ran out of gas, so they decided to go on foot.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, but my thoughts were still on Rick Grimes and how he had awoken from a coma to find himself living in a nightmarish world of reanimated corpses.
A shiver shook my body, but I did my best to hide it from the others.
We saw lights when we turned the corner, and I literally felt the weight of responsibility lift from my shoulders. In the distance, around the entrance to the coliseum, emergency lights had been set up and figures were visible moving through the darkness. In front of us sat one of those electronic signs you usually found in construction zones, the words bright orange against the dark night: REFUGEE CENTER LOCATED HERE.
“Thank God,” I said as I turned the car into the parking lot.
The closer we got, the more I could see. People were carrying boxes inside, unloading a big truck that was full to the brim. I spotted cases of water, pallets of canned goods, and boxes of cereal by the dozens. I had no doubt that there were first aid supplies too, as well as extra clothes and bedding and toiletries. We were going to be okay.
A man in his sixties with shaggy gray hair broke away from the group and headed our way. Even in the dim light the circles under his eyes were prominent, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t be the last person we saw today who looked exhausted. Not by a long shot.
I slowed to a stop when he waved and rolled my window down. The man smiled, and despite his exhaustion and the haggard way he carried himself, it looked genuine.
“Hi there.” He stopped at my open window and looked past me into the car. “Three of you?” Something in his tone told me that number disappointed him.
“That’s right,” I said. “We heard on the radio that there was a refugee center here. I’m happy to see it was true.”
“That it is.” The man waved to the parking lot behind him. “Park anywhere and head inside. Someone will be there to greet you. Bring whatever you want, but I’m afraid we have a strict no weapons policy.” He gave me a sympathetic look. “We want everyone to be safe.”
; “Weapons?” Tessa said, and I glanced her way long enough to see her shake her head. “Why would anyone need weapons?”
I ignored the question because I didn’t want to explain to her all the things that could happen in a post-apocalyptic world. Not right now.
“Luckily, we aren’t armed,” I said to the man instead.
“Good to know.” He nodded twice, his shaggy gray hair flopping around his head, and then straightened. He slapped the roof of the car and said, “Find yourself a parking space and head on in. We have everything you need.”
He turned away and I rolled up the window as I steered the car through the parking lot. It wasn’t nearly as full as I’d hoped. No more than fifty cars. No wonder the man—I hadn’t even gotten his name, I realized—had been disappointed by the measly three survivors in our car.
I pulled into a spot and put the car in park, but for a second none of us moved. Since I had no idea what was going through everyone else’s heads, I found myself twisting in the seat to face Tessa, and then glancing back at Logan. They both looked shell shocked, but also scared. As if leaving this car and going into the refugee center wouldn’t be a way to find help, but would instead bring on a new list of worries.
“There are other survivors,” I said, and then paused so I could swallow. “They’re organized and they have supplies. That’s good.”
“Yeah,” Logan mumbled.
He turned his gaze on me and I really studied him for the first time since he bumped into our car. Dark circles lined his eyes and even though they were the same beautiful gray ones I had stared at back in May, something about them was different. Older. Wiser. Maybe even a little broken.
“Things can only get better,” I said when neither he nor Tessa spoke.
“Yeah.” It was my sister’s turn to respond, and I turned my gaze her way.
Looking at her, I saw the same things I’d seen in Logan’s eyes. Maybe I looked the same way. Maybe it was how we all looked now. How we would always look from here on out.
“Let’s go in.” I turned back to face the front and yanked the keys out of the ignition. “It’s going to be okay now.”
I didn’t feel it deep inside the way I thought I should, and I also didn’t miss that the tone of my voice reflected my doubt. For a reason I couldn’t quite pinpoint, I felt like things were only going to get worse.
We climbed out of the car, just as silent as we had been since leaving Daniel Island, and grabbed our bags before heading for the building. The coliseum loomed in front of us, large and imposing and pitch black other than the small section they were using for the refugee center. Inside there were multiple auditoriums set up for dozens of different activities—plays, comedians, and even sporting events—but we were on the side with the ballrooms.
The front doors were open and a steady line of people were busy carrying supplies into one while a woman stood at the entrance of the second one, watching us approach with her arms crossed over her chest. She wore a stained, oversized sweatshirt and an expression that was either a scowl or a look of utter exhaustion, but thanks to her tiny eyes it was difficult to tell which it was.
When we stopped in front of her, she uncrossed her arms and pushed her greasy hair out of her face, using the hand that held the clipboard. As a result, she practically smacked herself in the forehead with the little plastic board, but since she didn’t react, I assumed it either didn’t hurt or she was as shell shocked as the rest of us.
“Names?” she barked out.
Behind her, I spotted a few people milling about in the lobby, but once again I was struck by how few people there were. I had expected crowds, but this… It was scarier than the darkness we had just driven through.
“Tessa Smart,” my sister said.
Logan gave his name next, and then it was my turn. The woman didn’t crack a smile or utter a word as she scribbled them down.
She also didn’t look up when she said, “We have two banquet halls set up with cots, one for men and one for women.” Her eyes darted up. “No exceptions. We want people to feel safe.”
“That’s fine,” I said even though I felt bad that Logan would be alone.
The woman’s eyes went back to the clipboard. “The third banquet hall is set up as a common area. It’s where you can get any supplies you need.” She whipped a stack of pink cards out of her back pocket and thumbed three off the top of the pile. “These need to be punched every time you get supplies. We want to make sure everyone gets their fair share. Write your name on top and don’t lose them.”
She passed them to me and I handed one to my sister and another to Logan. When I looked back at the woman, she was holding a Sharpie out to me. I took it and scribbled my name on the top of the card, wondering how anyone would verify that I was in fact Melanie Smart.
The card had items listed on it: water, bedding, clothes, shoes, toiletries, and snacks. Things like that. Next to each one was a small rectangle box where someone could punch a hole. I wasn’t convinced this little card would keep people from hoarding supplies, but I had to hand it to them for trying to set up a fair system.
“You will be assigned beds.” The woman looked at Logan. “You are in twenty.” Her gaze darted to Tessa and me. “Thirty-one and thirty-two. Questions?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Go on in. Get settled.” Her focus had already turned to something else when she said, “We’ll make an announcement when breakfast is served. It will be around seven. You missed dinner but you can get something to tide you over.”
We walked past the woman in silence, stopping when we had reached an open door. The room in front of me was dark, but I could make out the soft glow of a flashlight on the other side, as well as rows and rows of cots lined up across the room.
I turned to face Logan. “I guess we’ll see you in the morning?”
“Yeah.” He shoved his hand through his dark hair and looked around. “Thanks for the ride.”
“You’re welcome,” I said.
Tessa didn’t utter a word.
Logan nodded twice before turning toward the men’s room. I watched him walk away for a moment, suddenly feeling so exhausted that I wasn’t sure if I’d have the energy to take another step. My body felt weighed down both by emotions and lack of sleep, and even though all I wanted at this moment was to curl up and get some rest, the idea of dragging myself into the room filled with cots felt more final than anything else I’d faced so far.
“Are you okay?” Tessa asked when I didn’t move.
I nodded and swallowed before turning to face her. “Yeah. You ready to get some rest?”
She nodded in response, but like me she seemed to be dreading it.
The room was even more crammed with cots than it had looked on first glance, but most of them were empty. The ones that had already been occupied stood out thanks to the belongings gathered either on top or underneath them, or the fact that people were currently curled up on top. The few people milling around were quiet, some talking but most quietly going about their business, and other than a mom with two kids, it didn’t seem like any of the other women in the room knew one another.
“This is depressing,” Tessa said.
She was right about that, but I wasn’t going to admit it. We needed to cling to what little optimism we had, and the fact that anything like this existed at all was amazing as far as I was concerned.
“It’s going to be fine,” I told her as I moved deeper into the room, looking for our assigned cots. “They’re just starting to get things together. Give it a day or two and things will look a hundred times brighter.”
We set our stuff down when we found our cots. There was already a pillow and blanket on each one, but the people in charge had only provided basic stuff and I knew from my punch card that we could get more if we went to the supply room. Only Tessa had already plopped down, and the way her shoulders were slumped told me she might not care if she had a softer blanket. Not tonight.
I took
a seat on my own cot so I was facing her. “It is going to be okay.”
My sister’s eyes were on the floor when she nodded. “I know.”
She didn’t sound like she thought it was going to be okay. She sounded like it was the end of the world.
I put my hand on top of Tessa’s, and she raised her head to meet my gaze.
“If nothing else,” I said, “at least we still have one another. That’s something Tessie.”
“You’re right.” She let out a deep breath.
“That’s how we’ll get through this.” I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “No matter how bad things get, or how hard, we just need to keep in mind that we’re lucky. People have lost everyone, but we still have each other.”
Tessa swallowed once, then again when she apparently was unable to utter a word. The tears shimmering in her eyes reminded me that I hadn’t cried for my parents and Claire yet. It wouldn’t be long, I knew, before my emotions got the better of me. I’d done a good job of pushing them down up to this point, but I was exhausted and already finding it difficult to hold back.
“We’re together,” Tessa finally managed to get out.
I exhaled, trying to blow the tears clogging my throat out. When I realized it was impossible, I turned to face my cot and started arranging my bedding, not looking over my shoulder when I said, “We should sleep.”
Tessa didn’t respond, but since she started spreading a blanket out I assumed she agreed. A decent night’s sleep would do us both good, I knew. There was nothing a little rest couldn’t cure, or at least that was what my mom had always said.
Chapter 5
REST WAS A RELATIVE TERM WHEN YOU WERE crowded into a room with a handful of other people, but somehow I managed to catch a few fitful hours of shuteye. I woke when people started moving around and turned to find my sister awake and staring up at the ceiling. She looked more defeated than I’d ever seen her.