Mandy was sitting in a chair nearby.
“You’re awake,” she said, getting up.
“What happened?” said Max. “Is everyone OK?”
“Typical,” said Mandy. “You want to know about everyone else first. Don’t you want to know if you’re OK?” She was smiling at him as she spoke.
“I must have passed out from the pain,” said Max.
“Your stitches came out,” said Mandy. “It’s amazing you did as much as you did with that wound.”
“What about everyone else?”
“Well, as you can tell, we’re back in the farmhouse. The guys who came in… they’re both dead. Georgia shot one at the front of the house.”
“You mean the back of the house.”
“I’m going to let that slide, considering your condition.”
“And Chad shot the other one?”
Mandy nodded at him.
“Where’s everyone else? Who’s on watch?”
“Georgia, James, and Chad are all outside.”
“Don’t tell me Chad’s still on the roof.”
Mandy shook her head. “Georgia’s up there.”
“I hope she got some rest or something to eat.”
Mandy shook her head. “I gave her some more caffeine pills from the supplies.”
“We’re going to be running out of those soon enough,” said Max. “I’m glad there are three people on watch. I don’t know what we were thinking having just one person on the roof. It’s clearly not enough.”
“That’s what we decided,” said Mandy.
“I’ve got to go talk to them,” said Max, starting to rise up in bed.
“It took me forever to get those new stitches into you,” said Mandy. “You’re not going anywhere. If you do, don’t think that I’m going to stitch you up again.”
Max grunted, but he sunk back down into the bed.
“Sadie’s sleeping,” said Georgia. “We can bury the bodies tomorrow.”
“We need food,” said Max. “Everyone’s running on empty. I don’t know how much longer we can last like this.”
Mandy nodded. “Georgia said she had a deer in her sights before she saw the other men. There’s food out there…”
“It’s going to be tougher than I thought,” said Max. “I guess I was naïve. I thought we’d just bunker down here, set up defenses for the occasional intruder, and that’d be that. But there are more people arriving than I’d thought, and sooner… Even if we can defend the farmhouse, it’d going to be too dangerous to hunt. And forget about growing food.”
“What are you saying?” said Mandy.
“I’m saying we take that van and leave,” said Max.
“Are you crazy?” said Mandy. “This is the only place we have. This is it.”
“I know,” said Max. “The farmhouse was my whole plan, but we need to get farther out.”
“This is just your mania of getting to the absolute least populated area.”
“Well, it worked so far, didn’t it?” said Max.
“Fair point,” said Mandy, bending over to examine Max’s leg. “I wish we had those painkillers of Chad’s.”
“I’m fine,” said Max, gritting his teeth. “That guy needed them more.” Max was referring to the man who’d no longer be able to get his dialysis treatments.
“I don’t get it,” said Mandy. “What makes you think that anywhere else would be any better than here? You’ve been saying that the EMP must have hit the whole country, maybe even the whole world.”
Max nodded. “Definitely,” he said. “If it was just our area, we would have heard about it by now. They would have sent the army, or something.”
“So the rest of the country is in the same condition? But you think it’ll be better?”
“Think about,” said Max. “We’re just a day’s drive from Philadelphia. And we’re not that far from New York City. Two densely populated cities. And don’t forget about the surrounding areas. It’s not like everyone’s been wiped out all at once. But if we can get farther out…”
“Where? Kansas? New Mexico? We don’t even have maps. How would we even survive the journey?”
“The college kid who owned the van made it pretty far,” said Max. “Maybe it’s not that bad in the middle of the country. There are fewer people, and that means less chaos.”
“I don’t know,” said Mandy. “What do you think the others would say?”
“I don’t know,” said Max. “They can stay here if they want. It’ll be their house. It’s not like property titles mean anything anymore.”
“They all look up to you,” said Mandy. And she added, in a softer voice, “And I do, too.”
Max didn’t say anything.
“We all know we wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you,” said Mandy. “Whatever you decide, everyone’s bound to follow. Do you think we can get everyone in the van?”
“Yeah,” said Max. “But I need to think about it. I need to talk to Georgia, too. And Chad.”
“Chad?”
Max knew that Mandy had never had a high opinion of Chad. And apparently the fact that he’d shot the attacker hadn’t changed her mind.
“Yeah,” said Max. “He’s traveled the country more than I have, probably more than any of us.”
Mandy moved away from Max, headed towards the window. She stood there and looked out at the dark night.
“Are you OK?” said Max.
“My finger’s fine,” said Mandy. “It’s just a cut. It’ll heal.”
“I don’t mean your finger,” said Max.
Mandy turned to look at him. She didn’t say anything. But there was a far-off look in her eyes.
“It’ll pass,” said Max.
“I’ve never felt so bad about anything I’ve done,” said Mandy.
“It was either you or her,” said Max. “There was nothing else you could have done.”
“That doesn’t make it any easier.”
“It doesn’t have to,” said Max. “You’ll get used to it.”
Max knew that it was likely that Mandy would have to kill again. He knew that they all probably would.
If they stayed at the farmhouse, they would kill and kill until they themselves were killed.
Max was embarrassed about the amateurish operation he’d been running here. There were no real defenses. A single person on the roof wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
At least Max could now recognize his own weaknesses. His strategic weakness.
But if he wasn’t good at defense, there were still things he was good at.
If they could get farther away, maybe they could thrive.
“Look,” said Max. “I’m not saying we abandon the farmhouse forever. Maybe we just need to get away until things calm down more. Then we can turn it into a homestead. If we don’t find something else better, that is.”
“This was supposed to be the place to come to get away from it all,” said Mandy.
“I know,” said Max. “Trust me, I know.”
Mandy didn’t say anything for a moment. She continued to stare out the window.
“Do you ever think about the people you knew?” said Mandy.
“Sometimes,” said Max.
“I do,” said Mandy.
“It’s only natural,” said Max. “It’s your brain trying to make sense of this all.”
“How can you say that?” said Mandy. “You’re saying my thoughts and worries aren’t real?”
Max shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not really up for a philosophical discussion right now. We’ve got things to do. We’ve got plans to make, food and water to get before we’re ready.”
“Do you have any family?” said Mandy. There was a tone of annoyance in her voice. Max didn’t know what it meant, but he wasn’t about to get too concerned about it. There were more important things right now than people’s feelings.
“Yeah,” said Max. “I have a brother.”
“And…?”
; “What do you mean?”
“You don’t think about him? You don’t want to know what happened to him?” Mandy spoke like she wasn’t going to give up without an answer from Max.
The easiest thing to do would be to answer her.
“I’ve barely talked to him in ten years,” said Max. “I think he was pissed that I inherited the farmhouse. Not because he really wanted it. He had all the money he needed, and then some. He’s a resourceful guy, and he always looks out for himself. It’s one of his worst characteristics. Or it was. Maybe it’ll serve him a lot of good now. I don’t know.”
“I have a sister…” said Mandy.
“Look,” said Max. “We need to save our energy. We can’t really get into this right now.”
Mandy gave him a look that was more than mere annoyance. “How can you say that?”
The sound of a gunshot rang loudly outside, interrupting the conversation.
“Stay in bed,” said Mandy. “Don’t you dare move. I’ll see what it is.”
“At least hand me my gun,” said Max.
Mandy was peering out the window. “I can’t see anything. I’m going outside.”
Mandy took Max’s Glock and its holster from his clothing on the floor and handed it to him.
“Actually,” said Max. “You should take it. You might need it.”
“I have my rifle.”
“Take it,” said Max, holding out the gun and holster for Mandy.
She took it wordlessly, and left the room.
13
John
“Are you OK?” said Lawrence, helping John sit upright, his back against the building.
“I think so,” said John, wincing in pain. “That was some good work, scaring them off like that with the knife.”
“I don’t think I could have really stabbed anyone,” said Lawrence.
“Well, you’d better change your mind on that,” said John. “These guys were nothing compared to the others.”
“Trust me,” said Lawrence. “I know.”
“Then you’d better get your head on straight. None of this helping people shit anymore. You’ve got to have an iron fist. Do we still have the bag?”
“Yeah,” said Lawrence. “I’ve got it here. All the bar peanuts and limes we can eat.”
John grunted. He held his head, not that it helped the pain.
“So you don’t want me helping anyone, but it’s fine that I’m helping you?” said Lawrence.
“We’re helping each other,” said John. “Remember? You’ve changed your mind and realized you want to get out of the city.”
Lawrence didn’t say anything.
“Come on,” said John, getting slowly and unsteadily to his feet. “We’ve got to keep moving. And keep an eye on the alleys this time.”
They set off.
John’s head was killing him, and he felt nauseous and weak, probably from the lack of proper food.
They walked the city streets for what felt like hours. It was the same almost everywhere. There were abandoned cars, trucks, police cars, and military vehicles. There were countless bodies on the ground.
They peered carefully into every alley as they passed it, not to mention every side street.
John tried to keep his guard up at all times, but it was difficult with his head hurting, battling the fatigue and nausea.
His feet were killing him. He was used to walking only a short distance to the office, or taking a cab when he had a business meeting, or a night out.
Lawrence seemed to be fighting the same fatigue. Occasionally, he held his lower back with both hands, as if it was hurting him.
“Just a little bit farther,” John kept saying, over and over again.
Lawrence didn’t say much. And John was glad that he’d dropped the whole “I only know how to help” attitude.
“I can’t believe we haven’t been attacked yet,” said John, finally.
He’d practically been holding his breath the entire time, fearful that at any moment someone was going to simply shoot him, or jump out from behind an abandoned car and attack him.
John had never killed anyone before, and he didn’t know if he had it in him.
“We’re lucky,” said Lawrence. “But at night, we won’t be.”
“I don’t get it,” said John. “It’s like humanity here has gone nocturnal. It doesn’t make sense. Why would everyone come out at night, if night is the most dangerous time? It’s not like these people have lost all of their thinking and reasoning ability.”
“Sometimes,” said Lawrence. “Sick people on their deathbed become functionally nocturnal. Their circadian rhythm swings around when they’re extremely stressed.”
“You’re saying that’s happened to everyone here?”
“I don’t know.”
They walked in silence for another half hour.
“I know you’re telling yourself,” said John, “that you’re going to try to help everyone out there in the suburbs or wherever. But we both know you’re just trying to save yourself, which is fine with me. In fact, it makes more sense to me. Anyway, my brother Max, he’s bound to be at this farmhouse. I know him. I know his thinking. I’m sure he’s got it all fixed up to withstand the apocalypse. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s set the place up like some impenetrable medieval fortress, booby traps and all. We can head there… Maybe he’ll be glad to see me after all this time. And if not, I’m his brother, and he can’t exactly not let me in.”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Lawrence. “First, we’ve got to get out of the city.”
“Sounds like you’re finally thinking sensibly,” said John. “We’re not that far from the boat rental place.”
“Let’s just hope there are still boats.”
“Why wouldn’t there be?”
“Who knows.”
When they finally arrived at the river, they were exhausted. Almost by accident, they had arrived at exactly the right cross street, exactly where the boat rental place was located.
But there weren’t any paddle boats, the small boats rented sometimes to tourists.
Instead, there was one large boat, bobbing gently in the water, tied up to a pier.
“Think the motor will work?” said John.
“I doubt it,” said Lawrence. “Nothing works. Remember?”
“I’m going to give it a try, but I’ve got to eat something first. I feel like I’m going to pass out.”
“Well, we’ve got limes and nuts.”
“I’m going to go for the beer,” said John, slumping down against a concrete wall.
“Don’t you think we should get on the boat first?” said Lawrence. “And get under way?”
“What’s the rush?” said John. “We’ll see anyone coming.”
“I don’t know…”
“You’ve really changed your whole attitude,” said John. “Now it’s all about looking out for your own safety. As soon as I gave you the hope of getting out, everything changed.”
Lawrence didn’t respond. He seemed to have been growing more sullen all day.
John doubted that his own jabs at Lawrence’s personality were helping at all, but he was too hungry and tired to care.
Lawrence sat down cross-legged on the ground, across from John.
They both opened up their sacks of hops, and started digging around for limes and nuts. John opened a growler of beer and drank greedily from it, trying to quench his thirst.
“Hey!” yelled someone, from not that far off.
“Shit,” said John, rising rapidly to his feet. “Come on, get on the boat.”
There were footsteps coming, pounding along the pavement.
John barely looked up. He saw two men running towards himself and Lawrence. One had a machete, and the other held a handgun.
John was rushing right towards the boat. Lawrence was only a few feet behind him. John could hear Lawrence’s footsteps.
The boat was one of those clumsy tourist boats m
ade for holding a lot of people, and certainly not made for speed.
John already suspected that the engine wouldn’t start. And that was even if the keys were in there. And John had no idea how to hotwire a boat.
His only option was going to be to cut the boat free, and hope that he didn’t get shot in the process.
John jumped onto the boat. His feet hit the metal deck of the boat hard.
Lawrence jumped, landing partially on John.
John was out from under Lawrence, moving as fast as he could on his hands and knees towards the rope that moored the boat.
John tried to keep his head down. He didn’t want to get shot.
“Keep your head down,” he yelled to Lawrence, but he didn’t turn to look to see what Lawrence was doing.
With his expensive kitchen knife, John started hacking away at the rope. It wasn’t as easy as he’d thought it would be. The rope was thick. But he finally cut through it. There wasn’t a satisfactory snap like in the movies, but the boat was free.
He knew the men would be incredibly close.
The boat was already being pulled south by the current.
John poked his head above the crude metal edge of the boat. The two men were just arriving at the edge of the dock. It was too late for them. John and Lawrence were already drifting away. It was too far for the men to jump onto the boat.
But the man with the gun raised it.
There was anger in his eyes and on his face.
A shot rang out.
Lawrence screamed.
“Lawrence!” shouted John, turning around.
Lawrence was on the floor of the boat, bleeding from the torso. His face was pure agony.
John looked up. The man with the gun still held the gun straight and true. There was still anger on his face.
John didn’t know how far a handgun could shoot. He scrambled behind one of the metal seats for tourists, trying to protect his body from subsequent shots.
Another shot rang out. But it didn’t seem to hit anything.
John poked his head partially around the edge of the seat.
Lawrence was screaming in pain. They were floating down the Schuylkill River, heading south, which was the opposite direction John wanted to head. The sacks of food and beer lay on the dock, abandoned.
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