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by Matthew Costello

  “If that’s what they do, what we do … how are we any different? The so-called normal ones.”

  “Good question.”

  “And there’s something else.”

  Helen smiled. “You mean Simon’s adventure on the mountain? Colonel wasn’t too happy about that, I bet.”

  “No. Something happened to Kate.”

  Again, Helen’s eyes showed a flash of understanding of words not being said.

  “Yes?”

  “One of the Colonel’s men got her to go down to the basement, those tunnels down there. He cornered her. My little girl.”

  Helen shook her head. Then:

  “I didn’t want to worry you. But I gotta tell you. It’s something I’ve been thinking about. Something I’ve been worrying about. She’s a beautiful girl.”

  “A girl! Exactly!”

  Helen nodded. “But in this place, these days…”

  Christie looked away.

  Neither said anything for a few moments, and when she turned back to Helen, her mind had been made up.

  A decision reached.

  And with what had happened to her life over the past few months, once a decision was reached, there was only one way to go.

  She looked down the hallway. No one there.

  And then she told Helen her plan.

  36

  Out of the Castle

  “I’m going to leave. Me, my family.”

  Helen waited a moment.

  Then: “Where? Where will you go?”

  “I don’t know. I only know that I can’t stay here. Not with my kids. With these humans turning into animals. How long before something really bad happens? And … is it even safe here?”

  “You mean the attack? Last night? Turned out okay—”

  Now it was Christie’s turn to reach out and grab Helen’s arm.

  “Turned out okay … maybe because my son, a boy, he sneaked past their guards, nobody saw him go up that mountain, and he saw them? That’s safe?”

  Christie’s voice made Helen turn and look back to the dining room.

  “I hear you. Maybe all these men, their guns. Place this big. Maybe it’s too big.”

  “And I was thinking. Winter’s coming. What do animals do in winter? When food is scarce?”

  “Animals. You mean the Can Heads.”

  Funny question, Christie thought. Obviously … yes.

  But then.

  Standing in this hallway, whispering, maybe not.

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  Unconvinced that it was simply the Can Heads she should worry about.

  “But where will you go?”

  Christie shook her head.

  “I don’t know. It’s a big country. There have to be places where no matter how bad things got, no matter how long we have to wait until the government does something, discovers something, people still live decent lives.”

  Helen didn’t respond.

  Which Christie took to mean that she didn’t agree.

  “I gotta think,” Christie went on, “that there are places better than here. Even—” and this thought was new. Terrifying in its implications.

  “Even—if we have to live all on our own.”

  Helen nodded.

  Then: “If you do this, if you want, and if—” a smile—“you got room for an old lady … you can count me in.”

  Now Christie smiled, suddenly not feeling all alone.

  “Great. I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “One last question, and then we better get some breakfast before they shut down…”

  “Yes?”

  “When?”

  Good question, Christie thought. When indeed?

  She’d need to pick a time, get the kids all set to leave. Make sure they had gas for the car, their weapons back, the food they brought.

  Would the Colonel do what he said? Simply give her back all their stuff?

  “You can leave anytime you want,” he had said.

  Was that true?

  “Soon.”

  She wondered if Helen was also thinking about the Colonel, whether simply leaving his redoubt—no questions asked—would be easy.

  Or even possible.

  “Okay. I think sooner rather than later. Like you said—”

  And it seemed to Christie that Helen’s next words were not just about changing weather, a changing mood in the fortress, but about something larger.

  “Winter’s coming.”

  And with that, they both walked into the dining room as people started to stream out, no one paying attention to them as they entered.

  * * *

  But as soon as they sat down with plates of oatmeal like stuff, the dining room nearly empty, Christie felt someone’s eye on her.

  From the front of the room, the Colonel.

  Helen turned to her.

  “Steady. I think Captain Crunch noticed our late arrival.”

  Christie nodded as she dutifully turned back to her bowl of gooey pseudo-cereal.

  But out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the Colonel stand up and start walking to their table until he stood beside them.

  “Morning, ladies,” the Colonel said.

  “Morning,” Helen said.

  Christie nodded.

  Then the Colonel pulled a chair from a nearby table and turned it around so he could sit near them.

  “I wanted to tell you something. I like letting people know … what’s happening to their things.”

  Now Christie looked. It was as if he had read their minds, their talk of leaving.

  My things?

  “What do you mean?”

  “We got a great report from one of our night patrols. They found a place—miles from here, some kind of big warehouse. I guess people stockpiled things and left. Might be a lot of things we’ll all need for winter in there.”

  “Good,” Helen said. “Lucky us.”

  The Colonel paused as if he picked up on the trace of sarcasm.

  “Yeah. Still, we have to go get the stuff … while it’s still there, before anyone else comes along looking for it. Things will get pretty desperate this winter.”

  The Colonel looked at Christie.

  “So we’re doing a big run tonight, every vehicle we can trust. Grab everything we can and get it back here.”

  The car, Christie thought. He’s talking about the car!

  “You’re asking to use my car?”

  The Colonel shook his head. “Not asking. I told you when you came here, everything is communal—unless you leave. And we’d need to plan that. Just like I told you.”

  Christie didn’t react to that. Helen took in a spoon of cereal.

  “But I only wanted to inform you of what we’d be doing. That’s all.”

  Christie held his gaze, her mind racing.

  The possibilities … racing through her head. What if something happened to that car? What if it blew a tire, broke down, whatever?

  Then they would truly be trapped here.

  Options … gone.

  She took a breath, nodded.

  “No.”

  The Colonel’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Look, Christie—you don’t—”

  “You can use the car. But I go. I drive.”

  The Colonel made a small laugh.

  “I don’t think you want to be driving all that way, over those dark roads at night. Miles from here, in the dark. No telling what the men will face. And—”

  “I’ve killed more of them than most of your men. Maybe—all your men. You can use my car to get whatever is there and bring it back. But I go. I drive.”

  And all the time, Christie was thinking—

  That way—I’m with the car. I’ll see how they park them down below, where they keep the keys, the gas, the guns—

  Yes. It was the only way.

  Still, the Colonel could say no.

  He started shaking his head.

  “It’s dangerous. You should stay with your kids.”

/>   Then Christie saw a card to play.

  “But they’ll be here. You’ll have guards staying here, yes? They’ll be safe.”

  Helen cleared her throat.

  “I’m going too, then. Because I know I’ve killed more of those things than most of your men. Besides—”

  She reached over and patted Christie’s forearm.

  “—we’re a team. I watch her back, and vice versa.”

  The Colonel didn’t say anything; he didn’t look convinced.

  Christie lowered her voice and leaned across the table closer to him.

  “You don’t want me making noise about this, Colonel. Just take the car, and me with it—”

  “And me,” Helen added.

  The Colonel looked away as if checking who might be within earshot of this standoff. But except for a few people cleaning up near the large serving table up front … nobody.

  “Okay. Against my better judgment. Everyone leaves tonight a little before sunset. In a caravan. You head down below later and Sam will get your keys—”

  “And my guns?”

  “You have a gun.”

  “The rest of them. You did say you didn’t know what to expect.”

  “Right.”

  The Colonel stood up.

  He stood there for a second as if searching for something to say.

  But having lost this battle, he walked away.

  * * *

  And when the Colonel was gone, Helen turned to her.

  “That—was amazing. You got balls, girlfriend.”

  Christie smiled at that.

  She herself didn’t know where she got the will to pull that off.

  Jack would have been proud.

  “I had to do it. If we lose the car—”

  “I know. We’re stuck. Still, you sure you’re up for a road trip miles away? Got to be prime Can Head country out there.”

  Christie smiled. “Thought you said you’d have my back?”

  “That I did.”

  “And…” Another look around … “after tonight, we can leave. Whether we get the Colonel’s permission or just take the damn car, the guns, the gas.”

  “Guess when you make up your mind, you make up your mind.”

  “Yeah.” She took a breath. “I had a good teacher.”

  She was about to add that it was easy to do when you had kids. When you worried about your kids.

  When their survival was your job.

  Instead—

  “Thanks for coming with me.”

  “As if I’d let you go out there on your own…”

  Christie nodded.

  This, she thought, might be her last day—last night—in this building, this cloistered castle of men and guns and growing fear.

  Something inside her … told her that that feeling was indeed true.

  37

  The Caravan

  “You two okay?” Christie said to Kate and Simon.

  Simon nodded, still so quiet after his time on the mountain.

  But Kate had a question.

  “I don’t get why you have to go?”

  Kate knew about her decision. To leave.

  But neither of them had told Simon. Best, she thought, that he find out at the last minute.

  “I want to make sure that the car is okay. That it comes back. It’s our car, right?”

  As soon as she said it, she knew how wrong that sounded.

  Our car.

  Actually … the Blairs’ car.

  Our car blew up in the Adirondacks.

  Kate didn’t ask any more questions.

  Good girl, Christie thought.

  Stay with me.

  “Now, they say it’s only about fifteen … twenty miles away. Imagine we’ll load all the cars, the trucks, and get back, real fast. A couple of hours at most.”

  She paused, for a moment questioning her own decision to leave.

  Was there any right thing to do here?

  Stay with her kids and let whatever happened to the damn car … happen?

  But she knew … if they had a future, it wasn’t here.

  “I want you to stay in here, in the room.”

  Simon rolled his eyes.

  “I know. Bor-ing. But a few hours. Just do it for me.”

  “Okay,” Kate said quietly.

  She saw Simon’s eyes dart to the lower drawer. Another decision she had made.

  “And leave those exactly where they are, okay?”

  Should she take the guns? Or trust them to leave them untouched?

  For a moment—she felt immobilized.

  Then: “Okay, I gotta go down to the garage. Won’t be long.”

  She pulled them both close, hugged them so tight, then a kiss to each.

  She let them go.

  “Love you,” she said.

  She waited for the words she wanted to hear.

  Needed to hear.

  “Love you, too,” they said together.

  And then she turned and hurried down to the underground area below the inn.

  * * *

  Christie stood with Helen off to the side, watching as men brought the cars around to a narrow driveway that led up and out of the subterranean garage.

  She felt Helen give a nudge.

  “Check over there.”

  In the back, a storeroom with large double doors, a padlock dangling, that door now open as men carried guns out.

  “There are your weapons. In there.”

  Not far from the storeroom, Christie had already spotted a wooden chest on the wall, also open, with rows of keys like an NYC parking lot.

  She looked around …

  The gas. Where the hell do they keep the gas?

  But when another car was moved into position in the line leading out, she saw rows of mismatched plastic and metal containers piled at the back, dozens of them, stacked two, three high.

  Guess, she figured, they don’t worry about protecting the gas if the car keys are locked up.

  She saw her car being jockeyed out of its space, the smell of so much exhaust, so many cars in the closed area making her sick.

  Then the driver moved her car into position behind a pickup.

  She saw someone get out. A kid, only a little older than Kate. He didn’t make eye contact.

  Was he the one who had cornered her daughter?

  Could have been any of them.

  “Got a full tank,” the kid said, walking away.

  Another man, an older guy, walked over with guns in one hand and boxes in the other.

  “Here you go,” he said.

  Christie shook her head.

  “I had more. Another handgun, a lot more ammo.”

  Someone handed Helen a few boxes of shells for her shotgun.

  “Me, too,” she said.

  “This is plenty,” the man said.

  Christie thought of demanding it all—all the guns she brought in, Jack’s armory. The ammo.

  But would that tip them off that she may be planning to leave?

  Come back. Get Kate, Simon … and leave.

  So she kept quiet.

  She took the guns and walked over to the car, sliding the rifle and a handgun onto the backseat, pushing the ammo boxes toward the back of the seat.

  Helen got into the passenger side.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll keep mine with me. Up front.”

  “Don’t mind at all,” Christie said, sliding into the driver’s seat.

  Then they waited for the night patrol to get rolling.

  * * *

  Loud shouts from up front, the sound of doors grinding open, car engines revving.

  “Here we go,” said Helen.

  With the engines started, everyone turned on their lights, making the dust motes that filled the dank air down here look like snow.

  The heavy-duty pickup truck in front of Christie sat high, cutting off the view of the cars in front.

  In the rearview mirror, Christie could see another four or five cars. />
  We’re in the middle, she thought.

  Maybe for safety.

  The sound of the pickup’s diesel engine in front roaring as it slipped into gear.

  And then the line of vehicles—SUVs, trucks, cars—began rolling up the stone driveway and out of the underground garage, out into the night air where the sky—laced with a hint of blue and purple to the west—had already turned dark.

  * * *

  The line moved slowly.

  “You’d think they’d hurry. Just get there, grab whatever’s there, and get the hell back.”

  Christie had her hands locked on the steering wheel.

  “Seriously. And why do it at night?”

  “I’m guessing they don’t want any of the locals, the normal or otherwise locals, trailing along. This way the loot is all theirs.”

  Christie nodded.

  Daytime, and anyone who lived in the nearby towns, in the woods, who still hung on, would see them, wonder what the hell was going on.

  Could have people coming from everywhere to see what was up.

  “You okay?” Helen said.

  “Yeah. I’ll be glad when this is over and we get back.”

  “Me, too.”

  And then they both sat quietly as the caravan winded its way down the mountain road, and then toward the town of Wawarsing, where the warehouse waited.

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes into the journey, the line stopped.

  Then, from the front, the sound of gunfire.

  “That sounds bad,” Christie said.

  She sat listening. More shots.

  The door to the pickup ahead opened, and a short man in a flannel shirt hopped down from the high cab of the truck.

  He walked back to Christie.

  “A few of them came out of the woods,” he said. “I got my two-way radio so they let me know. No problem. They got ’em.”

  He moved down the line of cars, telling everyone the short news update.

  “No problem,” Helen said. “Right. I think we need to keep our eyes open. And I best keep checking the side of the road.”

  She shifted her gun so instead of pointing straight down, the shotgun now lay level on her lap.

  The caravan started moving again.

  * * *

  More time.

  Another fifteen, twenty minutes, the journey feeling like it was taking forever.

  From here, Christie had been told, the caravan was to take a back way to the warehouse, avoiding the actual town. A narrow two-lane road.

  Occasional shots rang out from the front, and then once from behind them.